Chapter Three

"So, how are you these days?"

Martin took a deep breath. "I am continually frustrated by the physical aftereffects of my ordeal."

Dr. Francis scribbled a quick note. Appointments with her had ended up a requirement for his return to work. The first few weeks had been difficult. She assumed his lack of communication was due to trauma, not understanding that he'd never been comfortable speaking with strangers. 'Empties' as he'd been taught to think of them as a child, soulless creatures with human forms. Only by putting on a character and a performance could he get through something like the passing of Arthur's father.

After nearly three weeks, he had gritted his teeth and said "I need to know something about you first. Anything."

She had blinked at him and explained that mental health professionals were not supposed to share personal details. Martin hadn't replied to that statement. Maybe some of it was trauma. They kept working.

She had a husband. Played softball in college. Liked cats but was allergic to them. Called them sweet balls of histamine.

"Are you still having migraines?" she asked

"Yes."

She made another note. Actual shorthand she had learned at her mother's insistence. "Have you spoken to your neurologist lately?"

"He said they should eventually fade in severity, but currently they are still easy to trigger."

"Any other triggers?" Dr. Francis asked gently.

Martin sighed internally. He did not like this, at all. "I have an elderly neighbor who is unable to properly clean his apartment. There is sometimes a damp smell that is… particularly unpleasant." It left him gagging, hands shaking with phantom cold, and leg aching in remembered pain. Dr. Francis didn't push for exact details. They had reached an understanding that Martin would acknowledge when he had a problem, and she would in turn acknowledge his acknowledgment.

"Is there anyone who can help him clean?"

"I have offered. He is less social than I am. I have attempted to contact his adult children in hopes that they will handle the matter. If that does not work, I will discuss it with the building manager."

"Hopefully, it won't come to that. Do you have plans for the holidays?"

"I work on Christmas, then spend two or three days in New York attending to legal matters."

Dr. Francis nodded. "Okay, you're in a relationship now. Partners often spend holidays together."

Martin had not considered that. He had filed the appropriate paperwork at the insistence of Human Resources, as had Arthur. He didn't allow himself to stumble over words. He simply did not speak as he considered this new aspect of his life. One of the few sermons he remembered from the Farm was that Silence had Power, especially when dealing with Empties, and that Empties liked to fill the air with words, scared of the power of your silence. As an adult, he understood it was a form of control to discourage gossip among the group and insure as little information as possible was passed from members to outsiders.

It didn't change the fact that one of the things he found interesting about Arthur was his ability to simply sit in silence. Even before that sermon, he had avoided the children who chattered, preferring the quieter ones like himself.

"I shall ask him what his holiday plans are."

Dr. Francis smiled. "Good. That is exactly what you should do."

"May I ask what your holiday plans are?"

Arthur looked up from his soup. The average outdoor temperature had dropped to the point where he had an almost constant rotation of soup on his stove. "Normally, I volunteer to work over the holidays. My mom usually guilts me home every few years. This year I figure I should be a good son and visit my mom, seeing as how she's going to be alone. I have the time saved up. How about you?"

"Historically, I spend the 27th and 28th of December in New York City attending to legal matters. Sometimes the 29th as well."

"Get out before the New Year's Eve madness."

"Yes."

"I've never been to New York. Always been a bit of a bucket list thing. The Met. Ice skating at Rockefeller Center. Broadway. Stupid tourist stuff."

Martin nodded and Arthur wondered exactly what 'legal matters' meant but he didn't push. Martin told him things in his own time, at his own pace. He had a few more sips of soup.

"Would you like to join me in New York? I could extend my visit into the new year with minimal difficulty. I also have considerable leave time saved."

Arthur couldn't stop his smile, not just at the thought of a vacation but at the idea of being somewhere with Martin outside of the spinning routine of the Agency. And an extended stretch of time where he might not feel the need to go through the world wearing the work mask of a cold, unsocial, agent. "You know, I'd like that a lot."