August

~~~

#1 - Morning time

Cleo is at the farmers market, shopping list in hand, mildly fretting about dietary needs and dinner plans and school lunches and getting things finished at home. 

She's staring at the new seafood stand of all places, trying to determine which ones would be cheaper and healthier to get when a hand lands on her shoulder. 

Martyn asks "Is there anything I can help you with, ma'am?" as the owner of a stand is supposed to be polite and helpful to customers. 

Cleo being her stubborn and mildly sarcastic self, she responds with "Yes, actually. An improvement to my sanity would be immensely helpful right now." She waves her shopping list around with a grimace. 

Martyn offers to help her with her shopping list, but Cleo refuses, saying she's done this on her own for years now. She doesn't need the help. She just wants the cheapest salmon he has and then she'll move on. Simple as that.

With a sigh, Martyn relents, pointing her towards what she wants. As she leaves, he reminds her that there will always be people to help, even if she thinks she doesn't need it now. 

#2 - Mid-afternoon

Cleo has just got out of a parent-teacher meeting at the school regarding Bdubs. She's ticked off because they asked if he has a father figure in his life to look up to. She cant understand why they can't recognize how hard she is trying to raise them without their father in the picture. 

In order to calm herself down and treat herself for how much she's trying, she goes to a local cafe to grab a coffee (because tea is just not her thing). It's nice, sitting in a booth by a window and sipping on a piping hot drink.

Of course, Martyn walks into the cafe and orders himself a cup of tea. When he spots Cleo, he comes over and asks if he can sit at her table. Reluctantly, Cleo agrees.

Martyn asks how things are going. Cleo gives a mild and slightly vague answer. It's a small, stretched conversation. 

Maybe Martyn asks if Cleo has a partner. Cleo retorts back in suspicion that he's only being nice to get her phone number and meet her kids. He disagrees, saying that he was only asking authorities needed to get involved — to him, she looked like she was being overworked and if it was her partner's fault, then he would have reason to get the police involved. Cleo says she has no one but her boys, and that she's doing fine, like she has been all along. She says that Martyn has no reason to be prying about her personal life and that he should just leave her alone.

He decides that he will leave, but not before leaving a reciept with his phone number on it on the table. Cleo pockets it for no other reason than to block him, which she ends up not doing at all. 

#3 - Evening/night

Cleo is sitting in an armchair in the living room, enjoying the peace she obtained when Bdubs was put to bed without a fight and Scar is enjoying a sleepover with Grian and Mumbo. She's letting her thoughts drift to the nicer times, before Etho left the three behind. She mourns that old life in quietness now.

It's sometime past 11pm when there is a knock at the front door. She startles out of her armchair, eying the curtained windows with confusion. Who would be needing her at this hour?

She opens the door and sees Martyn. She begins to ask how he had found her house but stops when she sees Scar beside him. She's confused, badly. 

"Why do you have Scar with you, Martyn?" she asks, pulling the tired and kinda out-of-it Scar close to her. "Why isn't he at his friend's house?"

"I found him roaming the streets. I asked him if I could bring him home, and where he lived. He told me this address— I didn't realize he lived with you."

"He's my son. Of course he lives with me." Cleo then pauses, looking down at Scar before returning a now softened gaze towards Martyn. "I'm sorry. I— thank you for bringing him home. But I need you to leave, please. And don't come back. I appreciate your help here, but I don't need anything else from you. Okay?"

Martyn assents, leaving Cleo and Scar in the doorway. Cleo lets Scar cuddle with her on the armchair until both of them fall asleep. 

+1 - Morning 

Both of the boys are at school again. Cleo is washing the previous night's dishes and watching the birdfeeder outside the window. The birds' camaraderie is something she finds herself envying, to her dismay. She really doesn't have any friends. No one to spend adult time with, no one to struggle with, no one to celebrate with. Not since her ex-husband took all of his friends with him. She scowls absent-mindedly at that thought.

She finishes the dishes, dries her hands, then sticks her hands in the pockets of the long flannel she decided to wear for the morning chill. Her fingers find the slip of paper given to her that day at the cafe with Martyn. She pulls it out, finds the man's phone number and considers it with intent. 

Martyn was persistently there. Even though she denied it, she loved it. He recognized her burnout and her strength. What hurt could it do to call him?

After some hesistation, she dials the number on the paper. The phone rings two times before the call is answered. Martyn's sleepy voice comes through the speaker. 

"Martyn's phone, who is this?" "It's Cleo." "Cleo? Oh! It's nice to hear from you! I honestly thought you'd forgotten about the number I'd given you. What can I do for you this fine morning?"

Cleo pauses, unsure exactly what she wants Martyn to do for her. "Can you come over? To my house?" "What time?" "Any time, but before the boys get home from school, if possible." "No problem. Everything alright?" "I think it will be once you're here." "Gotcha. Give me twenty."

Fin.

---

The building's large wooden doors opened before he reached them, two cloak-covered servants with heads bowed standing at the edges of the entrance. They were shivering, though from the cold or from fear he could not discern. But he cared.

Once he was face to face with them, he knelt down and lifted their heads with his hands. Their eyes gleamed with fear — he only wanted them to be comforted. He took a deep breath, and when he exhaled, the eye on his chest started to softly glow. He began to chant.

"Look into my eyes, nothing but my eyes. Once everything is said and done, to freedom will you fly."

A short incantation, but enough to ensure the two servants' safety in the matters to come. No one deserved this lifestyle. No one. 

Without another word to the sweetfaces at the door, he walked. He knew exactly where he needed to go, so he strode down the halls and corridors and passageways like he owned the place, and he might as well have. No one else was going to stand in between him and his prize, or they would fall without any hope of getting back up again. They had stalled him for too long — he was not going to hold back now.

---

--- Eye contact blatantly being avoided, the younger glared at the ground. "I don't need your babysitting, Doc, I can manage myself just fine." Then, with a weaker voice, he added, "I don't need another one constantly hounding me for something I can't control."

This remark struck something in Doc. "Like what? Bdubs making sure you're still sane after your bouts of isolation? Beef checking in every day to remind you to eat something? That's not hounding, Etho, it's caring. And lately, you've been drastically losing sleep. I won't let you try and destroy yourself that way too!"

"I am not trying to do anything! I. Can't. Control it. My mind decompresses after dark and sometimes it takes forever for me to feel not needed enough to even entertain sleep!" Etho was crying now, a mix of emotions and exhaustion crowding his system. "I'm sorry you feel the need to keep an eye on me, but I am fine. I am just fine. I don't need anything from you or from Bdubs or from anyone!"

"Well I guess I'll leave you to your delusions, then! You clearly don't want anything to do with —"

His words were suddenly cut off by a scream. Etho's scream. ---