Fics like talk to the neighbors and tip my cap, on a little road barely on the map

Martin was honestly amazed he’d convinced Jon to come today. He’d hardly left the safehouse since they got there, spending most of his days curled up by the fire reading for pleasure or sitting at the kitchen table reading for sustenance. Martin couldn’t exactly begrudge him his reclusive tendencies, given that they were technically on the run, but it still worried him. Martin himself had tried to stay equally isolated, for safety’s sake, but he had to admit that he’d failed. When he’d realized that their nearest neighbors, an elderly farming couple, seemed to, like them, rely on a wood stove for heat, Martin couldn’t help but offer them some of their excess firewood. One thing had led to another, and now Martin was in the habit of coming over on the weekends to help out on the farm. It was nice, the routine. It felt good to be connected, in some small way, to a community. After the Lonely, Martin desperately needed that connection, and though he wouldn’t say it, he thought Jon needed it, too. Jon and Martin help out on a neighbor's farm. This goes well, until it doesn't.