Martin’s always a carer, a protector, a helper… Someone who’s willing to jump in and do what’s needed, someone that watches out and tries to predict what’s going to happen so he can help, so he can stop things from going wrong.
I don’t need to tell you that this is probably a product of his mother’s behaviour; if he kept everything in check then what reason would she have to hate him anymore? It never worked, of course, but that’s besides the point.
We see it too in early seasons. Anyone would be eager to impress their boss (particularly if they’re in love with them), but Martin’s eagerness is always filled with such care, such desperation to please. Just because a trait came from a bad place, does not necessarily mean it is a bad thing.
Along with this, his Web-like desire to keep things under control makes him irreplaceable, a valuable person to have around, because he’s entirely unable to conceive that he could be valuable solely as himself. He’s so devoted to others that committing himself to the lonely to save them was an obvious choice, which says more on the matter than I ever could.
These traits all shine through particularly visibly when things are out of control, like during Daisy’s appearance in season 5. From the beginning of the situation it’s clearly not going how it’s supposed to, and Martin finds himself alone faced by a monster that he can do nothing about.
Without Martin there, there’s a chance that Basira and Jon could’ve missed Daisy altogether, so as usual he’s responsible for holding things in place, but as the situation degrades so does his handle on it. Of course his kindness makes it hard to deal with, makes him flinch at the wrong moment-what’s another thing to blame himself for?
But when Daisy attacks Jon, that’s when things really fall apart. Seeing his partner at risk and in pain after the comfort of his resistance to injury? Attacked not only by a beast, but one that was a friend at some point, if she ever really was… Perhaps this was what was in front of him the whole time but he never could bring himself to look hard enough.
Jon trying to sacrifice himself, Basira trying to take action, Daisy uncontrollable; all Martin has in him is to yell! To scramble for control and some semblance of survivability. And there’s no relief at Jon’s release, the mess carries on.
The injury is bad. The type of wound that makes you feel the blood drain from your face, that makes you want to burst into tears, but no, there’s no time for that. Feeling emotions is not as important as regaining composure. But God, there’s barely enough time to even help Jon, Basira needs guidance too, if she can’t go through with this who knows what will happen?
Basira and Jon are living through the experience whilst Martin tries to control it, but some things cannot be controlled and there’s simply no use trying to fight against the tide. Nothing could be done to change the outcome, but if Martin doesn’t try then of course it’s his fault.
Whatever he did, things would end the way they did. You can hear him reaching out though, desperately trying to keep the group tied together; being bound by the archives was awful but at least the group was kept together to some extent.
But here there’s nothing he can do. Their paths have parted, things play out the way they always would, and they’re sent marching towards their awful fate.
I know the implication in Basira getting rid of Jon’s spare clothes from the archives was that they were ruined when the flesh attacked, but wouldn’t it be so much sadder if it was because of how his absence affected them?
You know how smells stick to fabrics better than most things? Even if you don’t know a colleague that well there’s a good chance you know what they smell like, even subconsciously. But everyone in the archives knew eachother well, even if they didn’t like it.
With Jon gone everything was left to Basira, we all know how much she had to do to hold the group together, even at the expense of her own emotions. Perhaps she could tell herself it was for the benefit of others that she bundled up the neatly folded clothes, still strongly scented with that fresh, bright, laundry powder smell.
After all, she’d seen Martin standing there in the office, before Peter Lukas showed up of course. Standing there like he’d been looking for something, the cupboard open but his arms hanging by his sides. The smell of clean clothes in the air and a tear on his cheek.
And Melanie, her anger almost as potent as Martin’s grief, but her tears were tears of anger. She’d been looking for a pen-Jon always seemed to have them on hand, but being in that office, that scent in the air mixed with the musty smell of the old books in the place that has her trapped, the place that caused the death of friends, that stripped her of her liberty.
And so perhaps as Basira held a bin liner full of slightly dusty clean clothes and a handful of pens from a desk drawer, she told herself she didn’t feel guilty. She had to do this, for the good of her team. Or at least what was left of it.
Rosie: Uses margarine instead of butter.
Daisy: Doesn’t turn the volume up in multiples of 5.
Martin: Hates that seam inside the toes of socks that kinda digs in sometimes.
Melanie: Always has a bottle or can of fizzy drink around.
Jon: Has a thing about the quality of paper.
Elias: Rhythmically taps the tip of his toe on the ground whilst waiting.
Basira: Likes notebooks.
Georgie: Has pink headphones.
Sasha: Always wears boots that click on the floor.
Tim: Ties his shoelaces weirdly.