Peter Parker (oldparkerluck) wrote in thedoorway, @ 2013-08-04 00:37:00 |
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After twenty-four hours, the relief was starting to wear off. Yes, there was plenty of good to focus on. Peter was back. Otto was gone. Life could keep going now without having to worry about which new plan to try in order to get Peter back in control of his own body. Dinner had gone pretty well too considering the weight hanging over them all. But Ben knew Peter and he worried. Ok, worrying was a constant thing anyways, but he knew this sort of situation. He knew the types of thoughts likely going through Peter’s head and that edge slowly sneaking closer. They had things to do, tasks to focus on. For now. What would happen when those were done? What would his mind fixate on when there wasn’t any purging or planning left? He nabbed the webshooters from his room before climbing out the window. Made with someone else in mind, but for now they’d do. They were untainted and safe. A quick scale up to the ninth floor and he was perched in the living room window of Peter’s apartment. Where Peter was sitting. Staring. At a bot, but not really. Oh this wasn’t good... He didn’t know what to say, wasn’t sure if any of it would actually help at this moment. So, he tapped the spare webshooters loudly against the window frame before wiggling them around and raising his eyebrows. “Think you can spare two more extra shirts to mummy it up?” It was one of a pile. A small pile, fortunately. Peter had to guess Otto didn’t have a robot lackey to churn out the spider-bots as fast as he needed between tormenting the network and entirely messing up the Spider-Man costume. But the compact bot Peter held between his fingers was just one more real, tangible bit of proof of what was to come back home. Or what was happening right now for that matter. It was a steep slope as far as what-ifs went; the past hour had been spent mostly tumbling down it, unable to get the traction to climb out of the rut at the bottom. Ben’s arrival shouldn’t have been a surprise, but Peter started at the sound of metal on glass. He jerked his head around, expression swimming between lost and alarmed. Recognizing who was there, though, set him back into a more eased slouch into the back cushions. The bot was wrapped up in a fist. “We missed something out there?” It was instinctive. Peter had been running solely on one motivation: erase all proof that Octavius had ever been here. Maybe it was a safety issue as much as it was trying to cut down on the reminders that a killer -- his killer -- had been roaming free and clear for a few days. With a heavy sigh, Ben dropped the attempt at a light air as he slid out of the window. “No, Peter, we didn’t miss anything,” he said softly. He set the webshooters on the side table as he circled around the couch. He passed up the spot beside Peter, instead clearing enough of a spot to sit on the edge of the coffee table, his weight balanced more on his toes on the floor than the actual table. “Just to swing around, y’know? Get you outta your-” He winced, his hand paused mid-reach to tap at his temple. Bad word choice. Very bad word choice. He ducked his head a moment as he took a deep breath. “It sucks. I know. It really does. And I know it’s a lot to ask for you to try and ease your mind up off of this, but...” He shook his head and looked up at Peter, not bothering to hide the worry on his face. “I don’t want you getting into that headspace... Deeper into that headspace. It isn’t a fun place.” Peter’s brows raised at the reply. They probably missed something, and he’d kick himself for not being more aware. With any luck, the universe would cut a guy enough of a break that one slip wouldn’t set off dominoes of the catastrophic variety. Parker Luck tended to make that less a possibility, more an inevitability. But Ben’s swivel around in front of him, and that fretful expression set an immediate smile on Peter’s face. Yeah, it was purely a show, but worrying Ben wasn’t on the agenda. “Hey, I’m good. Little distracted --” He’d used that line. Wait. No, that was Octavius who used it. The smile dropped off as if gravity snagged a hold on it. “I’m... just taking a minute or two to get it out now. Once May’s back, I can’t...” He breathed out, not really sure if he wanted to say more. Ben leveled a disbelieving look at Peter before he raised an eyebrow slowly at the smile and attempted brush off. Like that was going to work. Except it had, but he knew what was wrong now. It was harder to skitter away to hide when someone was actually in the know and they had both played this game before with each other. He left it at just the look though, words weren’t needed on that part. He nodded, a very small knowing smile tilting his lips. “Then you gotta be her dad and make it so that nothing’s wrong and everything’s peachy and she’s safe and happy. Doesn’t leave much breathing room, does it?” The side of Peter’s mouth tugged vaguely downward. He took a distracted glance at May’s room, then back at Ben. “I...” It was holding back a flood of words. Let one latch loose on the gate, and the whole dam was bound to break. Fingers rubbed at his eyes, which felt raw and stung with lack of sleep. He’d just have to keep to the questions asked. Maybe if he focused on what Ben was asking, he’d get through this. Maybe even feel a little better. “Nah, it doesn’t. She’s got no idea about all the screw-ups I’ve had, and she just... it’s unconditional, y’know? She loves her dad, and I’m the next best thing in this world. She doesn’t need to deal with my mess, so I keep it swept under the rug.” Ben watched Peter carefully, just letting the other man take his time. No pushing. What’d come out would come out when it did in the long line of issues, stresses, and insecurities. Had to be a long line considering the moods going on even before Otto showed up. He ran a hand through his hair as he pressed his lips together. “Um... Hate to break it to you, Pete, but from what I’ve heard and the fact that her dad is still Peter Parker, pretty sure she’s got a bit of a clue what our life is like,” he pointed out before wooshing out a breath. He knew the unconditional part. They were family and that made it easier to just fit together, but his situation was different. His history ended in the same place in both their worlds. No new information, no twists or turns or why aren’t you and mom togethers. The answer to the last one was obvious. But... “We’re all family,” he said softly. “You know you’d do everything in your power to help her through all her problems and pretty sure she got double helpings of that from you and MJ. You’re her dad and she’ll want to get to know you.” A short chuckle and head duck. “Which is terrifying and makes running for the hills sound like a great idea, but it’s worth it, right?” Ben had a point. Points in the plural, even. But it wasn’t as easy as navigating the choppy waters of meeting the teenage version of a child you never had the chance to watch grow up. Here, Peter stayed silent. Things reached so much deeper than May, which was even a deep concern in itself. There was a small shift forward, as if to adjust for the switch onto parallel tracks of conversation, but Peter ended up drawn forward, arms hugging each other. Luckily, in that short stall, the urge to open the direct line from his thoughts was detoured. “Worth it. Go figure, huh? You and me, sitting here, talking about family.” Peter reached out a foot and tapped the front of Ben’s shoe. “You and Reilly getting along all right?” “Never really pictured it quite like this,” Ben admitted with an amused shake of his head. The difference of years. Before all this universe jumping, he could have rattled off a million different scenarios of the adventures of family man Pete. Him and MJ finally getting the life they deserved raising their daughter with her Uncle Ben showing up every now and then to spoil his niece and dodge diaper duty. But their universe obviously didn’t like that idea... He nudged his toe back against Pete’s, letting the topic slide. Even if the next topic wasn’t fully sunshines and rainbows. He shrugged, his eyes skirting around the room before focusing on the spare webshooters. “We’re doing alright. I mean, probably more like great on the scale of awkward situations. Couldn’t wish for a better kid and he’s been a great help with everything and seems to be taking everything in stride and getting his life all in order, but...” He worried his bottom lip and tapped his fingers against his knee a moment. He could stop there. That was the actual situation after all, the rest was just a maze of his own inner drama over everything. Except he had to end with that ‘but’. And maybe it’d help out Pete even if they weren’t talking about his own brand of parental issues. “I feel like I’m holding my breath and just waiting for the other shoe to drop...” Still being Peter Parker despite the levels of mental and physical exhaustion, Peter thumped his shoe against Ben’s one more time to get the last ‘word’ in. There as a genuine hope that Ben had a good, if not halfway hopeful answer about Reilly. Someone had to be getting the parent thing right, even if it wasn’t so much a parent thing when your kid was fully grown. And it was sounding pretty promising until the ‘but.’ Peter raised his brows, head tilting during the pause. “Depends on what shoe you’re talking about?” It did help, having something else to focus on. “I don’t think his story gets any worse. You’re just worried about messing it up from here and going forwards? ‘Cause, Ben, unless you throw him a birthday party and find out he doesn’t like the color of balloons you picked out, I don’t think there’s too much that you two couldn’t move past. Other people? Lots more forgiving of us than we are to ourselves.” Ben let out an amused snort as he rolled his eyes and bumped his leg against Peter’s. “Pretty sure he’s past the balloons stage of things,” he pointed out, trying for that typical joking air. But that was part of that other shoe, wasn’t it? Yeah, there was the messing up that was bound to happen, but the disappointment for that wasn’t nearly as scary as the chance of dismissal. He’d already let Reilly down in the biggest way possible and yet managed to keep screwing up his life after that. And he’d likely do it again. Might be doing it right now to some poor toddler in their world. He didn’t even know when his own son’s birthday was. For what wasn’t the first time and would hardly be the last, he wondered what Reilly could possibly want or need from him. He ducked his head, long enough to cement a knowing smile. He reached out and squeezed Peter’s shoulder before giving it a few pats. “Yeah, I know.” He pushed himself up and scooped up the webslingers. “Which is why we’re going to swing all around this town so that when we find the unhealthiest food that this city has to offer, we’ll impress everyone by eating two platefuls each.” His head tilted to the side as he lobbed the webslingers lightly at Peter. “Game on?” Peter gave a half snort in return. He only resisted thwacking Ben on the shoulder because he was busying his hands with shoving himself off the sofa. It was probably about time he got around to that, anyhow, and going out with Ben...? Seemed smart. If anything did happen, Ben would be right there. Which, naturally, struck a pang of guilt that his brother even needed to be on watch duty in the first place. “What a catch we are, huh? Speaking of which...” Peter pushed forward a noble attempt at a smile. “You need to tell me how things’ve been with a certain vampire slayer.” Webshooters were fitted to each wrist -- a little awkward as far as the sizing went, but he knew the ones Otto had tweaked couldn’t be trusted -- and then a brief salute was flung in Ben’s direction. “Let me Invisible Man it up, and game definitely on.” |