"Oh god, no," Martin blurts with a brief surge of panic. Christ, he doesn't want to even think about that. But if he's not going to take that offer, then he needs to answer immediately. If nothing else, John deserves to be put at ease.

Martin breathes out in a soft, defeated gust and tries to get himself to look at John, though he can't get any closer than the vague direction of his shoulder, too embarrassed and too frustrated for anything as intimate as eye contact.

"I, I just..." He sighs, feeling some of the tension in his shoulders turn to more of a slump. "A little while ago I caught myself wishing that- that I hadn't been so useless, that I'd been the one to figure out how to... to deal with all this, like last time. Or even if I didn't figure it out, at least that it was down to something I could offer. I mean, like... telling you about myself, or... or the City giving me the box. I..." He feels himself blushing hotly, and he turns away, chewing his lip. "I wanted it to be me that fixed it, but I couldn't even help, and now... now it's all fine, and it's so incredibly selfish to be upset about it now, I'm well aware, but... It was just one of those thoughts I couldn't stop having once it started. That's all. It's just childish nonsense and I wish I could shut it off, but..."

He runs out of steam and shrugs wearily. It is a bit of a relief to have it out, in the end; he's only now realizing how tired he'd grown of being stuck in this unpleasant, ridiculous thought loop. Much as he hates having to admit to it, it is immediately better not to just be stuffing it down.