Douglas made a decision, one he should've made a long time ago. He doesn't know what to do with Martin's living arrangements, except maybe calling his siblings for help. He doesn't do that, but he knew he couldn't keep Martin in a hotel room for the rest of his days. Even if the poor Captain got paid, he'll go through his savings within weeks, if not days.

Douglas doesn't make any phone calls toMartin's siblings, wanting to allow at least one option left up to him. Douglas then spent the rest of night researching, and in the morning, called Carolyn that neither he nor Martin could fly that next day.

She doesn't take it well.

Most of the conversation had Carolyn screaming at him, and Douglas trying to get a word in edgewise.

"Carolyn! Would you just listen to me?" Douglas nearly yelled into the phone. He had never screamed at Carolyn before and he certainly didn't want to be starting now. "Martin's house burned down."

There was a moment of silence on the other end. "Is he alright?"

"He's fine. Homeless at the moment, but fine. Look, Carolyn, I have a lot more details to talk with you over with, but I'm going to meet up with Martin in another hour."

"Details? About what?"

Douglas sighed. He knew he was going to do this eventually, long before the rape, but it felt like he was doing it out of obligation rather than the right thing to do. "I want you to give Martin half of what I earn."

A gasp. "Douglas! Is this a joke?"

"No joke, I am serious. Look, I need to go. I'll call you later." He hung up on her.

He made a quick detour to the hotel to grab coffee and pastries. Douglas had learned Martin was easier to get along with when his stomach was full and the conversation Douglas was planning on having needed Martin's full attention.

He knocked on Martin's door. "Martin, are you awake?"

When Douglas received no reply, he put the bag of pastries in between his teeth and reached back to take out the electronic key from his back pocket. Just as he opened the door, Martin walked out of the bathroom.

He was patting down his face like he had just finished shaving. He hadn't combed his hair yet and it stuck up in different directions with its natural curl. His eyes were unusually red, like he had been crying. Douglas decided not to comment on that. "Breakfast," he said, indicating to the bag and coffee. "Are you hungry?"

"Not particularly," Martin said, his voice rough. Definitely was crying.

"At least have some coffee," Douglas indicated to Martin to sit down at the table near the window. "It'll help with that hangover."

Martin's face scrunched up. "Douglas, I am so, so sorry-"

"Stop. Nothing happened last night."

"I-I pushed you against the wall. I kissed you-"

"Martin, shut up and sit down before you fall over."

Martin hesitated for a second, wringing the towel in his hands, unsure what to do. He then tossed the towel onto the bed and crossed the room, making it very obvious he was keeping his distance from Douglas, taking a seat and then angling his body away from him.

"Here," Douglas pushed the coffee towards him and the bag of pastries. He then pulled a pamphlet out of his coat pocket, slapping it on the table in front of Martin. "Eat while you read this."

Martin doesn't bother with the food. Instead, he picked up the pamphlet, read it, then frowned. He looked up at Douglas. "Rape therapy?"

Douglas flopped down in the chair across from him. "For both you and me."

"Douglas-"

"I should've done this in the beginning," the older man interrupted. He had not realized till last night of the large weight sitting in his chest. Douglas had not slept in his own room since he assaulted Martin. He could barely look at the wall without feeling like he was just kicked in the groin. And if this was how he felt, he couldn't imagine how Martin was dealing. "We tried to ignore it, tried to pretend what we have between us wasn't there. Well, I was wrong, Martin. I raped you. I should've done the right thing and turn myself in, get you some help, but I was a coward and a fool. A part of me was glad you made the decision not to tell. You were the victim and the whole time I kept thinking about myself. About me, my reputation, my safety."

Martin gaped at him. "You apologized for it," he said confused. "You didn't mean it, and I know you didn't-"

"That doesn't matter," Douglas hissed out. "It doesn't change the fact that I hurt you. And neither of us are going to be able to move forward until we acknowledge what happened. This is not something we can put a bandage over. We need to get some real help."

They don't speak much after that. Martin doesn't read the pamphlet, not really, idly flipping it over and over while Douglas distributed the pastries between them.

The room is quiet except for the sounds of traffic coming from outside, far below the window to see.

()

They both go to therapy once a week for the next two months.

Douglas thought it would be best if Martin went alone, went without his rapist, but the younger man insisted. Wishing he was there with a friend than with a bunch of strangers.

Douglas was not sure what that said about the both of them.

With his sudden downgrade in pay, the very first thing Douglas did to keep himself from swimming into debt was selling his house. It was for the best, really. Keeping such a huge home with no one but himself to live in it was silly. Near the end he could barely stand to look at it and was glad when he finally moved out.

Martin kept his van job because half a Captain's wage still wasn't enough to pay for a new flat, clothes, and everything else that was taken by the fire. It would be months more still until he could balance the pay equally and finally indulge in something more than pasta and potatoes.

When that day finally came, Martin announced he was going to buy himself a pizza.

He and Douglas never really talked about it, not outside the therapy sessions, though both of them knew it was there, thrumming silently under every word game they had. It was there every time Carolyn forced them to share a room due to her cheap ways. It was there every time Arthur pulled them close for a group photo.

It would take some time, they were told, before the day comes in which neither of them will think of that night. It will either come as a shock or they won't even notice it. The point was to consider it as a step moving forward, and try not looking back.

"Exterior checks completed, Captain."

"Thank you, Douglas."

Today was not that day. But Douglas was a patient man.

He can wait.

End.