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a_belladonnaTitle: Spider Spider
Rating: G
Pairing: None
Word count: 1119
Summary: Captain Haddock discovers that Tintin isn't that fond of spiders.
Author's notes: A little study of Tintin and Haddock's friendship and an excuse to have Haddock be protective and fatherly.
If spiders are not your thing, I must warn that poor Tintin doesn't have the best experiences with them in this fic. Nothing graphic, though.
Beta read bydelphi - thanks! :)
Can also be found on AO3 here
Captain Haddock was just about to crawl into bed when a knock on the bedroom door stopped him. Grumbling, he went to the door and opened it. Outside in the hallway was Tintin, not looking his usual self. In fact he seemed rather uncomfortable.
"Sorry, I hope I didn't disturb you," he began.
"Apart from preventing me from going to sleep, no, not at all," Haddock grumbled, sounding a little more cross than he actually felt.
"Oh. It's just that I hoped you could help me," Tintin continued, fidgeting with the sleeve of his pyjamas.
"With what?"
"A...a spider..." He trailed off, looking embarrassed.
"A spider!? But surely a spider is no match for you! You've faced down all kinds of dangerous animals! What can one harmless spider do to you?"
"But it's a really big one..." Tintin argued feebly.
Haddock sighed. It was clear that he would not be able to go to bed for the time being.
"Fine, show me the murderous beast, then."
They returned to Tintin's room. The lights were on, although the lamp on the bedside table had been knocked over. The covers were thrown back, but otherwise the bed was untouched.
"So, where exactly is it lurking?" Haddock asked, expecting to receive some quip back. That was, until he looked at Tintin's face. He was pale and glancing around nervously.
"It's...it's not there anymore," he whispered.
"It was right there, on the pillow. Black, this big."
He indicated a circle with his thumbs and index fingers, and Haddock had to admit that unless he was exaggerating, it had been a spider of a fair size. Sensing Tintin's unease, he grabbed the pillow and shook it.
"See, it's not there."
He also shook the covers for good measure. "Nope, no spider there either."
Tintin didn't seem too relieved, yet he did go and sit on the bed, careful to fold his legs under him. "Okay, so it must be hiding," he said, while craning his neck to look around. "I'm not going to sleep while it's still somewhere in here!" he added, almost defiantly.
"But it's just a spider," Haddock began. "Spiders in this part of the world are harmless. Infact, they eat flies."
"That may be so, but not in my bedroom!" Tintin said, surprisingly hotly.
"What is it with those spiders, if you don't mind me asking?" Haddock said, sitting next to him.
"Don't laugh."
"I won't."
Tintin drew a deep breath. "Well, I guess you remember what I told you about the giant spider on the meteorite?"
"Yes, that was quite a beast. I understand why that might have made you afraid."
"It didn't make things better, to put it that way. But it began a long time before that.
I was around four, perhaps five years old. Old enough to remember the incident, anyway. Small enough that it scared the wits out of me.
"Somehow some of the older boys at the orphanage had managed to lure me into the oldest room in the basement. It was way in the back, and was mostly unused. It was extremely dusty, filled with old, broken things. Cobwebs everywhere.
And then they locked the door. I was terrified.
"There were shelves with old, pickled things, long forgotten. Rumours went around the orphanage that once upon a time they used to pickle the most disobedient children, and in the dim light I could all too easily imagine that. I guess I feared I'd end up in one of the jars.
It was dark in there, but just enough light shone through the tiny, grimy windows that I could see the big fat spiders in some of the webs. I cried and begged for the other boys to open the door, but they didn't.
"Finally one of the monks arrived, suspicious of where we'd gone off to. We all received a good spanking, them for locking me up, me just for good measure.
But they'd noticed how scared I was, and somehow they convinced themselves it was my fault they were punished. So it became a sport, of sorts, to throw spiders at me, leave them on my pillow, that sort of thing. Once, one boy actually managed to slip a live spider down my collar. I nearly wet myself."
"Those troglodytes!" Haddock exclaimed, noticing how subdued Tintin looked while recounting his story.
"I guess they thought it was fun to torment the short, skinny sissy."
"You're not a sissy!"
"I'm getting to it, Captain. I guess I was when I was smaller. Anyway, I decided to show them. Show them I wasn't some frightened little poofter. So when some boys once kicked the football up in the highest, thinnest branches of a tree, I climbed up after it. And although I had trouble sitting down for a few days after the caning, I decided not to show any discomfort in front of the others.
I decided to be as stoic as possible when punished at school, you know, no matter what. I began fighting back if the older boys wanted to pick a fight.
"It took many years. The oldest still remembered the incident in the basement, and I guess the story got passed down. But it became harder and harder for them to believe that it had happened to me, because when the older-but-not-the oldest boys wanted to push me around, I didn't budge. And I reached a point where I could beat up my peers without breaking a sweat."
Haddock stared at him. He'd seen Tintin getting into fights, yes, but he had trouble imagining the amount of black eyes and bloody noses the boy claimed to have left in his wake. And all because of spiders?
"I never got into fights with those younger than me. After all, they didn't know about the story. Instead I tried to protect them. And when I was one of the oldest, no one ever spoke about that incident," Tintin concluded.
Haddock was silent for a moment, trying to digest the story.
"So...the spider now? Did it remind you of something?"
"No, not as such. It was just awfully big. I could see the hairs on its legs." Tintin shuddered.
"Well, it is the time of year when they seek a way indoors, you know..." Haddock began, but was interrupted by a cry from Tintin.
"There! You see it!? Right in the middle of the floor! Kill it!"
"But it looks like it's on its way out. Think of the amount of flies and mosquitoes it'll eat next summer... How about sparing its life?" Haddock suggested.
"How about no?" Tintin said, arms crossed.
Sighing, Haddock got to his feet, slipper in hand.
Rating: G
Pairing: None
Word count: 1119
Summary: Captain Haddock discovers that Tintin isn't that fond of spiders.
Author's notes: A little study of Tintin and Haddock's friendship and an excuse to have Haddock be protective and fatherly.
If spiders are not your thing, I must warn that poor Tintin doesn't have the best experiences with them in this fic. Nothing graphic, though.
Beta read by
delphi - thanks! :)Can also be found on AO3 here
Captain Haddock was just about to crawl into bed when a knock on the bedroom door stopped him. Grumbling, he went to the door and opened it. Outside in the hallway was Tintin, not looking his usual self. In fact he seemed rather uncomfortable.
"Sorry, I hope I didn't disturb you," he began.
"Apart from preventing me from going to sleep, no, not at all," Haddock grumbled, sounding a little more cross than he actually felt.
"Oh. It's just that I hoped you could help me," Tintin continued, fidgeting with the sleeve of his pyjamas.
"With what?"
"A...a spider..." He trailed off, looking embarrassed.
"A spider!? But surely a spider is no match for you! You've faced down all kinds of dangerous animals! What can one harmless spider do to you?"
"But it's a really big one..." Tintin argued feebly.
Haddock sighed. It was clear that he would not be able to go to bed for the time being.
"Fine, show me the murderous beast, then."
They returned to Tintin's room. The lights were on, although the lamp on the bedside table had been knocked over. The covers were thrown back, but otherwise the bed was untouched.
"So, where exactly is it lurking?" Haddock asked, expecting to receive some quip back. That was, until he looked at Tintin's face. He was pale and glancing around nervously.
"It's...it's not there anymore," he whispered.
"It was right there, on the pillow. Black, this big."
He indicated a circle with his thumbs and index fingers, and Haddock had to admit that unless he was exaggerating, it had been a spider of a fair size. Sensing Tintin's unease, he grabbed the pillow and shook it.
"See, it's not there."
He also shook the covers for good measure. "Nope, no spider there either."
Tintin didn't seem too relieved, yet he did go and sit on the bed, careful to fold his legs under him. "Okay, so it must be hiding," he said, while craning his neck to look around. "I'm not going to sleep while it's still somewhere in here!" he added, almost defiantly.
"But it's just a spider," Haddock began. "Spiders in this part of the world are harmless. Infact, they eat flies."
"That may be so, but not in my bedroom!" Tintin said, surprisingly hotly.
"What is it with those spiders, if you don't mind me asking?" Haddock said, sitting next to him.
"Don't laugh."
"I won't."
Tintin drew a deep breath. "Well, I guess you remember what I told you about the giant spider on the meteorite?"
"Yes, that was quite a beast. I understand why that might have made you afraid."
"It didn't make things better, to put it that way. But it began a long time before that.
I was around four, perhaps five years old. Old enough to remember the incident, anyway. Small enough that it scared the wits out of me.
"Somehow some of the older boys at the orphanage had managed to lure me into the oldest room in the basement. It was way in the back, and was mostly unused. It was extremely dusty, filled with old, broken things. Cobwebs everywhere.
And then they locked the door. I was terrified.
"There were shelves with old, pickled things, long forgotten. Rumours went around the orphanage that once upon a time they used to pickle the most disobedient children, and in the dim light I could all too easily imagine that. I guess I feared I'd end up in one of the jars.
It was dark in there, but just enough light shone through the tiny, grimy windows that I could see the big fat spiders in some of the webs. I cried and begged for the other boys to open the door, but they didn't.
"Finally one of the monks arrived, suspicious of where we'd gone off to. We all received a good spanking, them for locking me up, me just for good measure.
But they'd noticed how scared I was, and somehow they convinced themselves it was my fault they were punished. So it became a sport, of sorts, to throw spiders at me, leave them on my pillow, that sort of thing. Once, one boy actually managed to slip a live spider down my collar. I nearly wet myself."
"Those troglodytes!" Haddock exclaimed, noticing how subdued Tintin looked while recounting his story.
"I guess they thought it was fun to torment the short, skinny sissy."
"You're not a sissy!"
"I'm getting to it, Captain. I guess I was when I was smaller. Anyway, I decided to show them. Show them I wasn't some frightened little poofter. So when some boys once kicked the football up in the highest, thinnest branches of a tree, I climbed up after it. And although I had trouble sitting down for a few days after the caning, I decided not to show any discomfort in front of the others.
I decided to be as stoic as possible when punished at school, you know, no matter what. I began fighting back if the older boys wanted to pick a fight.
"It took many years. The oldest still remembered the incident in the basement, and I guess the story got passed down. But it became harder and harder for them to believe that it had happened to me, because when the older-but-not-the oldest boys wanted to push me around, I didn't budge. And I reached a point where I could beat up my peers without breaking a sweat."
Haddock stared at him. He'd seen Tintin getting into fights, yes, but he had trouble imagining the amount of black eyes and bloody noses the boy claimed to have left in his wake. And all because of spiders?
"I never got into fights with those younger than me. After all, they didn't know about the story. Instead I tried to protect them. And when I was one of the oldest, no one ever spoke about that incident," Tintin concluded.
Haddock was silent for a moment, trying to digest the story.
"So...the spider now? Did it remind you of something?"
"No, not as such. It was just awfully big. I could see the hairs on its legs." Tintin shuddered.
"Well, it is the time of year when they seek a way indoors, you know..." Haddock began, but was interrupted by a cry from Tintin.
"There! You see it!? Right in the middle of the floor! Kill it!"
"But it looks like it's on its way out. Think of the amount of flies and mosquitoes it'll eat next summer... How about sparing its life?" Haddock suggested.
"How about no?" Tintin said, arms crossed.
Sighing, Haddock got to his feet, slipper in hand.
