Peter Parker (oldparkerluck) wrote in thedoorway, @ 2015-01-28 22:28:00 |
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Entry tags: | !log, ben reilly / spider-man (616), peter parker / spider-man (616) |
Who: Peter and Ben (616!)
When: 1/28
Where: Ben's studio apartment
What: STOP BOTTLING EVERYTHING UP, YOU TWO, GOD.
Rating: Low!
The one bad thing about window apartment entry? The cold air came right on in with the people and no amount of super speed in opening and closing the window could stop it. Ok, maybe Quicksilver wouldn’t have a problem with this, but he’d probably also break the window in the process. Anyways, having to wait for the heat to get back up to normal inside was better than sitting crouched outside in the near single digits chill. Just a few cups of cocoa, maybe some coffee, and then the two of them could get back out patrolling. A shudder ran through Ben’s whole body as he crossed the small studio apartment. The one room was better furnished than any apartment he had rented back in their universe. The furniture actually matched and was designed to make the most of the typical Big Apple space instead of being a mish mosh of whatever cheap or free stuff he could find out on the street. The rest of the decorations were minimal though, just the signed Indiana Jones poster hanging up, the scratch off map propped up against a wall, and a few photos stuck to the fridge. “Geez, and I thought New Years was bad,” he muttered as he pulled off his red mask and tossed it onto the minimal counter space. It took some rummaging before he came up with two clean mugs. He filled them with water and set them heating up in the microwave. “So what’s your poison?” he asked the other spider as he rubbed his hands together. “Cocoa? Suffer through some insta-coffee? I think there might be a packet of cider somewhere…” Instinct was to wrap his arms around his body. Even with a few adjustments to the spider suit, Peter couldn’t fault it for not being able to fend off single-digit chills. At this point, anything warm or hot would be welcome. It could be wheatgrass juice, and he’d probably gulp the thing down just for the heat. But since hot chocolate was on the menu… “Cocoa. You can’t lead in with that and expect me to not jump at it,” Peter replied, giving a shiver as he wandered further into the small apartment and pulled his own mask off. “Got any marshmallows around here? Maybe a portal to the tropics, too?” A snort answered the two questions. “Cocoa without marshmallows? Y’think I’m some kinda heathen,” Ben called over his shoulder. Ok, more like just spoke. There wasn’t really enough space to require much voice raising. Or well, friendly voice raising. His head nodded towards the exposed radiator in the corner as he gathered together the packets of cocoa and marshmallows. “Old steamy over there can be helpful, but I’m so not explaining any burns to MJ.” He gave a quick glance to the map before going to retrieve the mugs from the microwave. “If you find that portal, give a yell. Because if I had one, I would so not be suffering through the weather finally remembering it’s winter.” “I think forgetting important stuff runs in the family, and I can count off a buncha times when I had a nice, hot mug of chocolate waiting for a big, fluffy marshmallow that my scatterbrain didn’t remember to get before coming home. Story of my life, Ben,” Peter answered, similarly raising his voice his a hint as he strolled over to the radiator in an attempt to inject some life back into his frozen digits. “Aaaand since I gave myself that nice segue, I was meaning to tell you that MJ and I booked a little vacation. Next month, you’re gonna have Kaine all to yourself,” Peter continued, giving a shrug that might have been half apologetic. “Give it a few months. We’ll be in the middle of a March chill and, bam, this’ll story of your life will come back to haunt us,” Ben joked. “For now, we can bask in the glory of well stocked cupboards due to the New Year.” His eyebrows raised as he paused in mixing up the cocoas to glance over at Peter. “Y’know, you had me with having the place to myself and totally ruined it with the babysitting. There goes that city-wide super party idea.” Plopping a healthy amount of marshmallows into each mug, he carried the mug over to Peter. His brow furrowed slightly as he offered Pete the cocoa. “Wait, next month? That’s February, right?” “Ben Reilly: Master of Food Stock. You’ll be like the last outpost before the tundra or something. Can he make you a hot chocolate? You betcha. And he can put whipped cream on it. He doesn’t mess around.” At that, Peter gave a small salute, with one hand cutting a line across from his brow. “But, yeah, February. Can you believe it? One year later, and I still didn’t take her on a honeymoon, so we’re… I guess you’d call it a honeymooniversary? We’re doing that.” There was a pause. “In Hawaii.” And because maybe it needed a little more oompfh: “The island. Like the actual island with the sand and the beaches and the warm weather.” “I think I need to move a few more streets north to get that title. Not to the full tundra yet.” Ben laughed as he shook his head. “And all out of whipped cream. That.. uh… lives in a different kitchen.” He cleared his throat as he brought his mug up to block part of his face. Ok, to warm his hands and face, but also cover considering what the last round with whipped cream entailed. “Man, only a year? Aren’t you rushing that honeymoon there, Pete? And only to Hawaii the island? I hear Hawaii the planet is much cooler.” He tilted his head. “Warmer? Warmer works better with the whole tropical thing.” He took a sip before he raised an eyebrow at Peter. “So where do I put the anniversary present money so that I don’t find it webbed right back on my window?” “Y’mean the Bronx?” Peter gave a shudder, halfway for show, but halfway because his back was still thawing. If not for the fact that Felicia rarely zipped her costume up, then Peter would have to give her that the fur trim was a smart idea. But maybe on the inside. Line the whole costume with fur, and -- Peter shook himself out of it. “Huh? Oh -- c’mon, you know your money’s no good on me. Just dip it into… well, you have that shelter, right?” The one they’d never really talked about, at that. “And throw in a singing card. That would do just fine, Ben. You know how we work.” “Yeah, yeah. I’d just buy you two tickets to something you definitely need to do there instead, but…” Ben shrugged. “Research for once. Well, more than the usual ‘does that place even still exist’ research. Never did make it to Hawaii…” A hand wave dismissed that train of thought as he leaned back against the wall and then shifted to perch on it, the curled up ball position helping with the warming up as he sipped at his cocoa. “Yeah, there’s the shelter, but we got some pretty good donations. ‘Nough to actually pay people and everything. But actual honeymoons and anniversaries, that’s a biggie. So, when you get to Hawaii, you’ll be all surprised when you go to unpack and find a singing card with… surfing’s a thing there. Money that you can pretend is some fancy ticket for surfing lessons. Yup. There you go. That’s the plan.” “I’ll tell ya if it’s worth going yourself. Kinda feel like the answer’s yes unless I end up sitting next to this world’s Doctor Doom or something on the flight. Then again, Doom would never deign to fly coach!” For emphasis, and because it felt right for the moment, Peter lifted one hand, palm upward and fingers tensed. “Doom expects more than a complimentary snack and beverage on Doom’s flights.” Less for emphasis, Peter gave a test sip of his hot chocolate. It was still a little too hot, but that marshmallow was about melted, and he wasn’t going to let it slip away. Ben received a look of contemplation over the rim of the mug, though, as Peter mulled over the chances that he could shake his brother off that opportunity to stuff a fistful of bills into his hand. Odds were that he wasn’t going to win, and it was hard to turn down a gift meant for MJ, as well. “Only if surfing lessons don’t run up a scary credit card bill,” Peter answered, holding his mug out at Ben to punctuate the point. “I don’t need to start unpacking, and I got money falling out of random socks and stuff because you can’t take no for an answer.” “Doom demands to know why other people are on Doom’s plane,” Ben added with a chuckle. “Y’know you just jinxed yourself now, right? You’ll plop down in your seat and then, surprise! Sandman sitting next to you on a trip to commune with the best sand in the world.” He cupped his hands around his mug as he shrugged. “Oh but the TSA would so love you for all the coins dumped in your bag. What are the weight limits now a days?” He offered Pete a warm smile. “Well, I don’t know about the going price on surfing lessons, but… I suppose I could settle for just giving you enough for a nice Tuesday night dinner.” A finger unpeeled from the mug to point at Peter. “Nice dinner. At a restaurant and fancy-ish clothes. Not ordering in Hawaiian pizza at the hotel. Got it?” Peter offered a simple shrug. “I jinx myself by breathing. But if I get Sandman, at least he wouldn’t need to slump into my cut of the aisle to suit his beefy arms. Silver lining!” And, even better, the feeling in his toes was starting to come back. A quick wriggle beneath his boots earlier assured him that they hadn’t given up completely, but it was much preferred to have sensation back. The answer to the question of why Spidey fell off the side of a building occasionally happened to be that his foot fell asleep or froze entirely in the chill of winter. It happened. “Weight limits? Less than a Kaine. More than a Verne.” The smile was mirrored back at Ben. “And there he goes, putting conditions on dinner like I couldn’t pick a nice spot for MJ on our anniversary. C’mon, just ‘cause I still get tripped up on tying a tie -- wait, what’s the ruling on Hawaiian shirts?” Ben chuckled. “Like you wouldn’t go ‘hey, we’re in Hawaii! Let’s see if they deliver Hawaiian pizza! We can eat them while wearing Hawaiian shirts!’” he teased. “‘And then I can web Ben his change on his window when we get back.’ I know your wily ways, Mr. Parker.” A sip of cocoa. “Mmm, so, yup, conditions. But I’ll allow the Hawaiian shirt. As long as it’s the brightest one you can find.” He gave an amused snort before taking another sip of cocoa, his body relaxing a bit more now that he wasn’t completely frozen. “My bike weighs less than Kaine,” he pointed out. Which he felt he was a pretty good judge of considering his last extensive run-in with the other clone. He pressed his lips together as he studied his cocoa. That’d been months ago, but the encounter still weighed on him. And all this talk of upcoming trips kicking at that fitfully slumbering wanderlust… “I started it,” he blurted out before he could clamp his mouth shut again. He blew out a sigh over his cup of cocoa. “In Mexico. The fight that-” He gestured a hand over his face in the general area that the bruises from that long ago picture had been. “I started it.” “Gotta compare the pizza, Ben. Every New Yorker needs to make sure his home state isn’t slipping. If I come back here and someone goes, ‘So, how’s the pineapple and ham pizza out there?’ and I don’t have a reply? I’m not fit to live here. I’m just not.” And with that dramatic statement, Peter paused to slurp loudly on his cocoa. A snort followed at the crack at Kaine. He was too easy a target. Then again, it was tradition by now that the Parker trio just gave each other equal shares of ribbing. The snicker fizzled as Ben carried on. Peter lowered his mug. He stared for a moment, but then the easy question was on his lips: “Why?” The shrug was an automatic response. Diffuse the situation. Dodge and counter. Even if Ben was the one who brought it up and opened his own can of worms. He took a deep breath, his eyes staying locked on his cocoa as he curled up into a slightly tighter ball on his spot on the wall. Well, he blurted this on out, so no going back to the pizza. Especially since Pete deserved some sort of explanation, even if it was months later, right? “He bailed,” he puffed out. “After all that shit with Connor’s, he just-” He waved his hand off to the side. “I mean, there wasn’t anything in stone for locations or anything, but there were dates and it was gonna be making good on that road trip promise and I just wanted…” He shook his head. “I don’t know what I was expecting, but it turned into a solo trip and once I got to Oklahoma, I figured, why not Mexico? Might as well. Maybe tequila will work better.” A hand rubbed over his face and up through his hair. “So… so it’s Halloween night and I’m already a few shots in and he shows up and…” He pressed his lips together, his head hanging a bit farther in shame. “I just couldn’t let it be that easy. Him coming in at the eleventh hour after trying to make it out that I’m the one that wants to go off alone and he was just helping me get what I really want when I was the one asking him to come along and wanted him ‘round…” Another shrug. “So I punched him…” Peter heaved a sigh, his hot chocolate momentarily forgotten. “Guess that’s about right with how we all deal with problems. Ever wonder what life would be like if we just talked about stuff before it festers for half a year?” There was a semi-frown given, but considering the news was ages old now, it was hard to get mad or upset over it. It was just an admission. A belated one. Like Peter himself hadn’t bottled stuff up from his brothers in return… “He’s always fighting to get away -- feels like it. I get that. Maybe I’m just used to being grateful for having people around that it’s easier to ignore the grumbling. I mean, I dunno how this family dynamic’s supposed to work, but I thought we were all doing pretty good with it?” The frown deepened. “Barring the house splitting up. I just couldn’t stand to walk past her room after…” Peter cleared his throat. His voice had gone just a little scratchy. “Anyway, that’s not what this is about.” A short wry laugh bubbled up Ben’s throat. “Only half a year? Wow, that’s such a short time. I thought a year was the low end on that count.” He blew out a breath as he shook his head. “Plus, y’know, you actually have to have people to talk to about stuff to do that.” His lips twitched down in a frown. “Or remember you got those people around… And be able to counter that grateful thing enough to actually dump your problems on people who already have enough on their plates and don’t need extra things to worry and suffer about.” His eyes raised their focus from his mug up to Pete. His lips skewed up in a knowing smile. “Right?” There was another quiet pause. Peter eyed his half-full cup of cocoa, giving a brief nod at Ben’s words. It did help to remember that family was here. Family would listen. If you needed to talk, family would always listen. And that was more than just MJ bearing the load all the time. Peter lifted his gaze to meet Ben’s. “Hey,” he started, with such a tone that suggested it was going to get a little dicey in the next second. “How are you really? I mean, it’s great that we’re all around and all, but… end of the day. You’re here, unwinding. How are you really, Ben?” The smile slid into place automatically at the first question. Just bright enough to cut through people’s worries. For the split second, the knee jerk response almost had Ben going with the deflection and the ‘I’m fine’s. But Peter kept talking and by the time the repeat question came around, his expression crumpled and his eyes darted off to the side, scanning the small room being a much better option than eye contact right now. “Really?” He took a deep breath and puffed it out slowly. He still pushed down the urge just to go the ‘I’m fine’ route. But that wasn’t fair. Not when Pete was asking and after his own spiel about talking. He crossed his arms over his knees, resting his chin on his bicep. “Been better…” he mumbled. Not much but it was a start and better than the default of fine. “Trying to just focus on that grateful thing, y’know? Like you said, we’re all here. Me, you, Kaine, MJ, Gwen and ‘em… Got to meet people I’d never get to meet. Got a good job and a great girlfriend.” He tipped his mug slightly to gesture at the room. “Warm, dry place to sleep.” His shoulders lifted in a slow shrug. “But.. uh… that’s more of a doing than being thing, isn’t it? Uh… scattered… untethered…” He pressed his lips together. “Really? Ok, um, yeah, you can probably toss depressed on there… but we’re heading into spring so that’ll get better, yeah?” A brief pause before he raised an eyebrow and shot a glance at Pete. “You?” The response, belated as it was (and Peter knew how tough these admissions were), softened the expression on Peter’s face. There had been ups and down in this world, and for a while, it seemed like they both didn’t have home to count on as a place to live out their days. But now it was just Ben who didn’t have a future if this whole thing came to a close. That had to be part of this. “This place patches up holes, rips old ones open again…” There was a thoughtful glance towards the window, despite that the shade was drawn. “It’s orbital. You get closer and closer because that gravity is pulling you in, and then you’re sailing past and the moment’s gone. And then you do it again and again and again. Nothing stays as it is. Guess that’s always been life, but you feel it more when someone goes home and suddenly you’re the only one who remembers that first day and having pizza on the sofa because you didn’t know… exactly what she liked…” There was a wave of a hand. “I just try to keep busy. Best anyone can do, right?” “Tears open ones you didn’t even know ‘bout…” Ben tacked on in a quiet voice. He rubbed his thumb in a circle against the side of his mug, watching the motion for a moment before turning his attention to Peter. The other man’s musing reassured him in that odd way of almost hearing his own thoughts spoken. Worded a bit differently and with different experiences, but the feeling was the same and Pete had it right. Nothing stayed the same and that was life. That’s all his life had been for years and still it blindsided him. “A full time official job plus a full time unofficial job does help with the busy. Plus all those other part time hobbies. Worse comes to worst, there’s always knitting.” He shook his head to disrupt his words. Right, the jokes. To try and brighten Pete’s mood because even if the understanding was reassuring, it did have that habit of flipping the switch. Someone else’s problems and worries to fix. Something else to focus on. “You could write ‘em down. Those moments… I…” He nodded towards where the majority of his stuff was still packed under the bed. “For a bit, I was doing that… so… so I’d remember if… Or if there was something I didn’t get to say. That it’d be there…” He gave a very soft laugh. “I never realized just how much harder it is when you’re not the one leaving and you gotta stay put…” There are many who would be shocked to know that being quiet and listening was actually in the Parker skill set. It was just always running on a belated schedule. How many times had he been out with Ben? How many missed chances to have this talk had come and gone? Because, as ever, it was easier to default to humor and pretend like it was all fine. Hearing Ben had been pushing the boundaries of that unshakable sadness, though, snapped Peter alert. Maybe he was looking for the clues now. Little laughs that weren’t completely matching the smiles that were fixed on… small things like that. “You’ve been writing things down for if you got pulled back?” Peter’s eyes followed the nod towards the boxes beneath the bed, as well. “What -- wait, you’re losing me. You weren’t planning on leaving for good?” Ben jolted out of his thoughts, his eyes wide as he shook his head swiftly. “Oh, no. No, no, I’m not. That’s nowhere in any plans. I couldn’t leave you guys like that.” Another chuckle. “Those week long road trips are hard enough.” He breathed a heavy sigh as he scrubbed a hand over his face. “Was writing things down. I haven’t in a long time. Not since…” Sadness twitched across his features. Alright, change tactics. “We’re not always good at the straight forward talking and all, right? So, yeah, I was writing it down so if I went through the revolving door, I’d just have it all there. And that if I didn’t get to say everything I wanted… well… it would’ve been something he- they could’ve had. Y’know, to know his dad, or a version of him, more than just what Matt remembered.” Groaning, he let his head fall forward, resting his forehead against his arm. “I’m just making this worse, aren’t I?” “No, no --” Now it was Peter’s turn to shake his head, forgetting the mug in his hands wasn’t completely empty and sloshing some of the cocoa into the air. Quick reflexes took care of it before it hit the floor. “No, listen… I…” Not trusting himself, Peter moved to the window and sat the mug on the sill. “Sure, it was all unconventional, but… you get this whole scenario where you get to be something like a parent, and…” Peter closed his eyes. “Then it’s over. They’re gone. You didn’t get to say everything you wanted to, you didn’t get to explain everything. I know she was never -- they weren’t ours like that. Just leaves you with a head full of wishes for someone that wasn’t in your cards.” “And wondering which is worse, that card that completely blindsides you or… or the one that had flitted through your hand before.” Ben breathed out a heavy sigh, shifting his grip on his mug so he could reach down and balance it on top of the radiator. Which took a lot of focus of course to make sure the bottom was solidly enough on the raised parts to not just teeter over. Very serious work that required very serious focus. Yup. “Did I ever tell you that I saw her?” His voice came out quiet and just a bit hesitant. He wasn’t sure if this’d help, but, well, words were coming out. “Back before the trial and the…” His voice lowered and a frown twitched across his features. “...that whole thing with the tests… Y’know, super advanced technology, she was just a little bean of a thing, but…” A small genuine smile tugged at lips. “Most amazing thing I’ve ever seen. Probably could’ve just stood there for weeks staring, if there weren’t pressing matters to deal with and all… Might’ve done it anyways if MJ hadn’t nearly knocked me out by asking how it felt to be an uncle…” The lingering quiet stayed a bit longer, as Peter turned his head down once again. The corner of his mouth tugged a little, but the resolve remained true. “I’m glad,” he finally replied. The last thing he’d expected to come in here and have a chat about was little May, but somehow she was still that glue that bound people together. He couldn’t even imagine a life where she hadn’t existed at all. It had been a hard time, but she still meant the world for even the short time any Mayday Parker had been in his. “I’m glad you got to see her. Y’know, some days it feels like everything’s just… so unfair. Can I tell you something, Ben? I know I can’t -- I can’t really tell you I miss being a father. Never really got the full gig. But…” Peter breathed out, teetering a little on the spot as he debated backing out of finishing the sentence. “Maybe one of these days we’ll get the whole family thing. All of it.” “Me too,” Ben let out in a puff of air. “Even if…” He shook his head. The long road of what ifs and could have beens. He would have gladly traded that one glimpse back if it had meant things went differently. Went better. Even if that’d been the first rumbling of the possibility of being a part of a family. Especially when MJ knew the weight of the world ‘uncle’ with them. “You can tell me anything, Pete.” He smiled softly. “And you can tell me that. Yeah, not conventional like you said, but… you had the build up. You had your time with her here. Might not have had all the years in between, but I’d say you got a pretty full gig. Enough that you shouldn’t feel guilty about saying you miss it.” His own guilt started to bubble up again, the familiar brand from the last few months. His mouth opened and then pressed shut before he ducked his head. “You’ll get it one of these days, Pete. We’ll make sure of that. You deserve it.” “You. You, too,” Peter quickly answered. He reached out to prod Ben in the ribs. “You get a fair cut of the family thing because I’m not leaving you behind here. If we ever get to go home without that creepy random vanishing act, you’re coming with me. You and Verne.” It was big talk, Peter knew, but hope kept that flame burning. There shouldn’t have to be a life without his brother again. It shouldn’t have to be like that. “Hey, how ‘bout another hot chocolate to top it off? I can almost feel my fingers again…” That knee-jerk urge to deny came just as quickly with Peter’s words. Ben didn’t deserve a family, not the way that Peter did. Maybe not at all. The bits of family he had were manufactured or… well, on the worst days, the word would be stolen. And all the attempts he made to make something of his own, well, those all had ticking time bombs on them. Usually exploding when he could be caught most off guard. Leaving him scattered, usually running as far as he can go. At least back in their world. Here… well, there was just that constant push and pull between habit and that hope that never went away. The hope that was even harder to win over when it had Peter rallying its side. Pushing out that selfish spike of bitterness at having felt left behind before with that overwhelming optimism of getting to see Aunt May and all of Peter’s old friends again, being with his brothers, and getting to check up on his old gang, even if their world now sounded just about as strange as this one. But it was home still. The turmoil flickered across his face before it settled into a genuine warm smile. “I like that plan,” he said softly as he unfolded himself from the wall and returned the rib jab. “And you better take Verne too. No one else’ll put up with that stink bomb monster. Plus, oh man, so many ideas on Matchstick birthday pranks that require that cute pooch of yours.” He wiggled his fingers in the direction of the mug on the windowsill as he picked up his own from the radiator. “Gimme. One more round of liquid courage and then out to brave that cold again.” |