The world is cold and distant when Martin wakes up, much like his dreamless nights. He doesn’t try to change the cold, nor does he care any longer. He floats through his morning, not caring to try to find something to eat for he knows that his fridge is now rancid and molding from lack of use. He’d go through the motions of getting ready for work, however he doesn’t see the point, he didn’t change last night and no one is going to see him anyway.
He doesn’t know how he ended up at work, but he did. He doesn’t even know what work he should be doing, it’s just a habit to go to work. He’s tired of all this waiting, and he’s tired of Peter Lukas not providing any answers. He’s oh so tired and oh so cold.
He feels vague, he lets himself wander and comes back to the living world to realize he spent his whole day blankly staring at the wall. He vaguely remembers someone coming and looking for him… Jon maybe? Or Peter? He doesn’t know, he wasn’t there to know. He was somewhere else, somewhere safe from the watching eyes of others. Somewhere cold and distant and- and safe.
He finds his body is less important these days, just a fleshy thing that carries him around, he doesn’t know if his consciousness is even attached to a body anymore nor does he care to find out. He wishes people would stop trying to talk to him for christ sake, stop trying to find them. He finds that he’s angry when people do find him, they interrupt his peace and calm.
Jon finds him, going on about how they can quit, how they can gouge their eyes out and quit. But he knows why Jon came to him, he wants him to stop him to keep him from doing it. He says as much and they argue, he finds he’s relieved when Jon is gone. He doesn’t care about that either though he really should, not that he cares what he should or shouldn’t care about.