THE PRESENT

Where was he now, the ''Survivor''?, Martin wondered.

Had he ever really been there?

Or was he just a fierce mask, something for a terrified 14 year old to hide behind, to cope with the loss of his father, to help a tiny scared kid find purpose, and navigate trough a world that was too vast to comprehend, intimidating, terifying, and utterly and completely lonely.

''What do you do whe you've lost everything you ever loved, everything you've ever cared about?''

You keep on going, that's what. What else is there to be done?
You keep taking one breath after the next, walk one step and then another and another, and you survive, because you're too scared to just sit down and die.
And when there is nothing left in your life, no reason, no goal, no purpose, and all you are able to do is exist, then existence must become your purpose.

You survive, for the sake of surviving.

And when you are 14, and the world has gone silent, with nothing left but your own thoughts for the next 4 years of your life, you need to put on a mask, and become someone else, someone strong, become a hero to protect the real you hidden away inside.

But, the Survivor was gone.

Walt had cut the mask off, and stripped the protective barrier away, layer by layer over the course of a year.

Now, all that was left was again the frightened 14 year old, terrified by the world around him, still stricken by the loss of his father.
Tiny, helpless, scared.
Grieving.
And lonely.

Where was his purpose now?

He felt raw, exposed.

Walt had stripped away his skin, layer by layer.
It would need a long time to regrow.
But..

Martin was no longer completely naked.
Even in his sleep, he felt it.
Where once his skin- where The Survivor had been, now something much, much stonger had appeared.

It encased him from head to toe.

Tight and vast and unpenetrable - a second, protective skin, that Martin knew instictively would cover him completely, shielding him from all, while holding him tightly enclosed within, until his own skin had regrown.

On the bed, surrounded on all sides by a gargantuan body and utterly trapped under the firm pressure of Sam's enormous hand, Martin smiled in his sleep.

It was his first true smile in over 5 years.

***

Walther Jenner sat on the floor in what used to be his study, his back leaning against the now dusty book-shelf. He sat there, just like he had that day over a year ago.
The day everything had started.
Or ended.
Both.
Probably.

After Martin had escaped, he had been angry. So very, very angry.
Then desperate.
Now, he was drunk.
Memories of that day came and went.

''She left a note you know.
Says not to try and look for them, and she would call the police if she saw me near my daughters.
Like I'm some kind of child-molester.
I never did a thing, but suddently I've turned into a monster.
Do you think I'm a monster?''

Walt held his free hand up to his face, regarding its blurry outline through the wet film on his eyes that would not go away, no matter how much spilled down his cheeks onto his button-down.

Do you think I'm a monster?

I never did a thing, but suddently I've turned into a monster.

The shirt had once been clean, he remembered.

I never did a thing

Clean and unsoiled.
Like him.
I never did a thing
Innocent and nice.
I never did a thing, but
Like him.
I never did a thing, but suddently
Friendly
I never did a thing, but suddently I've turned
Kind
suddently I've turned
Happy.
I've turned
The shirt of someone
I've turned into
Clean
into
Like him

into a

[''Do you think I'm a monster?'']

I..
Never did a thing..

Now it was creased.
Filthy.
That shirt.

I never..

When had he last changed it?
Walther didn't remember.

[''So, tell me, Martin, what do you do whe you've lost everything you ever loved, everything you've ever cared about?'']

Filthy.
I never did a thing..
Rotten.
I never did those things..
Cruel.
I never did anything..
Like him.

I never did..

what I did..

They left.

[''I'm sorry for you'']

She took the children, and they left.
[''So, what about you? Are you gonna leave too?'']
Like I was some kind of monster.

[''That depends.'']

Even though I never did a thing..
[A smile.]
Not a thing..

[''You survive.'']

You survive.

You survive...

What
[''I'm sorry for you'']
have
[''I'm Martin'']
I done?

Suddenly I have..

[''What do you do whe you've lost everything you ever loved, everything you've ever cared about?']'

[''You survive.'']

I've turned into a monster.

Walther smiled, and
[''Do you think I'm a monster, Martin?'']

https://youtu.be/SdmD70OCx94

pulled the trigger.

[''... one of the nicer ones, maybe.'']

***