Chapter Text
Martin Blackwood has always been kind to spiders. Something about them sitting silently in the corners, catching pesky bugs and not asking for any thanks has always made him feel like they deserve a thanks. Just think of how many flies would be everywhere if there weren’t any spiders.
His mum is, always has been, and always will be, afraid of spiders.
He remembers when he first saw her kill a spider. He was 6 or 7, his father was still around, and Martin was not yet called Martin by anyone. It was a strange and colourful thing, spinning its web on Martin’s chair. Martin didn’t mind it at all, but his mum was horrified.
“Wretched thing!” She screamed as she crushed it with a spatula.
“For christ’s sake, it’s just a bloody spider,” his father had replied.
“No vermin like that are allowed in my house, disgusting little thing.”
That night, Martin had snuck downstairs to scoop up the spider’s corpse and bury it in the back garden.
“I’m sorry my mum squashed you. She doesn’t know how lovely you are. I-I hope your friends stay away from here so they, y’know, don’t get squashed too.”
Martin didn’t see another spider in his house until he was 8. His father hadn’t come home for a few days, and his mum had started having trouble getting out of bed, often sending Martin to bring her food instead of getting it herself. He was heating up soup for her when he saw the spider sitting in the corner of the living room, atop a beautifully spun web.
“Oh, Little spider, you shouldn’t be here,” he had said as he sits next to it. “If my mum comes down here, she’ll surely squash you. Come on, let’s get you outside.”
When Martin extended his hand out to capture the spider, it instead had happily crawled onto his palm. Martin smiled to himself that the spider accepted his help. He likes being helpful.
“Stay out here, okay?” he whispered to the spider when he had put it on the fence outside his house. “It might not be safe from storms and stuff, but it’s safe from my mum.”
Martin’s mum is not pleased with the wait time for soup.
“Couldn’t find it? You’re the one who put it away [Martin]. You should’ve remembered where you put the soup.”
“Yes, I’m sorry mum.”
“No you’re not.”
“I am-”
“A truly sorry [son] would’ve gotten me crisps as an apology. You’ll never make a good [husband] or [father] if this is what you’re like.”
“I’ll… I’ll do better next time.”
“You’d better.”
Martin did his best not to cry that night. Looking out his window, he watched another family have a barbecue in their backyard and smelled the smoke seep through his partially opened window. A spider had also found its way through the window, and gently crawled onto Martin’s arm.
“Oh, hey, I told you to stay outside. It’s not safe here. I mean, mum’s not gonna come into my room, but still. You should probably go outside. More bugs out there.”
He sighed, and the spider does not answer.
“Mum said that dad’s not coming back. I don’t… I don’t know if I believe her. He wouldn’t just abandon us, would he? Right as mum starts to need so much help?”
Tears had started to well in Martin’s eyes, and the smoke had begun to curl around Martin, but the spider waved it away.
“Heh… thanks for that little bud, but I dunno if that’s gonna be much help. Even if there’s no smoke to sting my eyes, I’m still gonna- I’m still-”
And Martin cried, he wailed, and the spider let the smoke turn fog so Martin’s mum wouldn’t hear him cry. And Martin didn’t feel so lonely with the spider on his arm, even if he knew he was alone.
“...Sorry,” He’d said once he’d calmed down. “I thought you’d leave once I cried but… thank you, for listening. For staying.”
As Martin smiled at the spider, he could’ve sworn it smiled back. Little did he know, he’d just gotten a new Mother
So if Martin meets a strange girl who helps him with his groceries and calls him her little brother, and some fog makes some bullies forget they were teasing him, and a mannequin helps him find the perfect clothes, and if those who hurt him are hunted down by strange wolves, and if there is always an eye to watch him and an ear to listen to him, and a strange yellow door helps him get to wherever he needs to be right on time, well, who is he to complain.
And if a fire burns his old documents, the fog ensures no one remembers he was ever not called Martin, a spider makes him new documents, and a man with too many bones makes his body something he’s more comfortable with, well, he knows to thank his Mother and not his mum.
So when he is recommended a job at the Magnus Institute, and his Mother says the head of institute may be a dick but he won’t fire you, Martin knows to thank her, as she will thank him for trusting her. For loving her enough to save her children from the wrath of his mum.