It doesn't take Martin long at all to settle in as John starts to tell his story, leaning forward a bit subconsciously, his elbow resting on the desk and his chin in his hand. His body language communicates active interest, but also a bit of nervous tension; he's invested, but it wouldn't be right to say he's enjoying himself. The story is unpleasant even before anything supernatural has a chance to occur. Martin has to tamp down a reflexive urge to protest John's assessment of his own childhood character—it's not as if he has any evidence with which to contest it. But he's also all too familiar with John's tendency toward self-deprecation, to say nothing of his own, and it strikes him as unfair to characterize himself thus when he was all of eight years old, an age where no one is without little quirks and flaws. But all too quickly, this becomes the least distressing detail of it all.
Martin isn't so successful at containing the quick spike of rage that rises in him when John tells him rather plainly that an eighteen year old had 'knocked him around,' and that he'd hidden it. He understands wanting to keep that sort of thing a secret. He'd certainly never gone to his mother over any of the bullies he'd suffered throughout his youth. But John's grandmother sounds a bit more present than she'd been, at least; maybe she wasn't the most equipped caregiver, but... well, surely she didn't hate him.
But it doesn't matter. John had kept this a secret, that a near-adult was hurting him, and it's all Martin can do to limit his reaction to a scowl, so small and transient that it's just a twitch of his lips and a subtle narrowing of his eyes, while he balls his free hand into a fist, hidden in his lap where John can't see. John's moving onto the books, and Martin feels a bit lost in the weeds for a moment, unsure how this connects to the bully, when all of that fades rather abruptly into the background.
At the mention of Jurgen Leitner, he stiffens quite noticeably, lifting his head from his hand and blinking at John in astonishment. He'd expected the capital-S Statement part of this to come later on, like all this was some sort of setup, or at least that it'd be something more indirect, something John pieced together later, when he had context. He'd never realized, never known John had encountered something like this so directly and so very young.
And why would he? Christ, he'd apparently recorded this at some point, but it's not likely anyone else would have heard it. And John probably never told anyone. So nobody knew this. Nobody but Elias, he supposes with a sick twinge in his gut.
Mr. Spider is too easy to place, and it makes Martin regret a bit how pushy he's always been on the point of spiders not being so bad; he's never talking about actual horrible Web spiders, of course, but he knows that at some point, that doesn't matter.
"Jesus," he says softly, unable to keep quiet. He makes a face like he's bit into something rotten, afraid of what comes next, fixating on little details. "Sounds like a bloody... kids' book."
no subject
Martin isn't so successful at containing the quick spike of rage that rises in him when John tells him rather plainly that an eighteen year old had 'knocked him around,' and that he'd hidden it. He understands wanting to keep that sort of thing a secret. He'd certainly never gone to his mother over any of the bullies he'd suffered throughout his youth. But John's grandmother sounds a bit more present than she'd been, at least; maybe she wasn't the most equipped caregiver, but... well, surely she didn't hate him.
But it doesn't matter. John had kept this a secret, that a near-adult was hurting him, and it's all Martin can do to limit his reaction to a scowl, so small and transient that it's just a twitch of his lips and a subtle narrowing of his eyes, while he balls his free hand into a fist, hidden in his lap where John can't see. John's moving onto the books, and Martin feels a bit lost in the weeds for a moment, unsure how this connects to the bully, when all of that fades rather abruptly into the background.
At the mention of Jurgen Leitner, he stiffens quite noticeably, lifting his head from his hand and blinking at John in astonishment. He'd expected the capital-S Statement part of this to come later on, like all this was some sort of setup, or at least that it'd be something more indirect, something John pieced together later, when he had context. He'd never realized, never known John had encountered something like this so directly and so very young.
And why would he? Christ, he'd apparently recorded this at some point, but it's not likely anyone else would have heard it. And John probably never told anyone. So nobody knew this. Nobody but Elias, he supposes with a sick twinge in his gut.
Mr. Spider is too easy to place, and it makes Martin regret a bit how pushy he's always been on the point of spiders not being so bad; he's never talking about actual horrible Web spiders, of course, but he knows that at some point, that doesn't matter.
"Jesus," he says softly, unable to keep quiet. He makes a face like he's bit into something rotten, afraid of what comes next, fixating on little details. "Sounds like a bloody... kids' book."