Ben Reilly (theotherparker) wrote in thedoorway, @ 2014-08-05 14:06:00 |
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There was only one way to shake off being stuck in airplane for hours on end (even if it was first class and involved good company). Ok, there were other ways, but Ben was back in the city after days away. He needed a swing through, to stretch out his muscles again, check to make sure city was still in one piece. Or as much of one piece as it usually was. So, people at home, bag stowed safely for now, suit on. Swing away! Plus… Ok, maybe checking the network before swinging out would’ve been a good idea. Hindsight, 20/20, oops again. But whether the aging mess had been fixed wouldn’t really matter much in finding Pete. If it was fixed, seventy to eighty percent chance that his brother would be out here. Fun tesseract events like this always needed a bit of brain clearing afterwards. And if it wasn’t fixed… well, that’d just push the chances up. …and right on cue! Ok, twenty, thirty minutes late, but still, for them that was right on cue. Even early. An hour or two late would be more on cue really… But there was the all too familiar red and blue, swinging along one of the old routes. Familiar enough too that he’d put money on it being his Pete and not this world’s Peter. Only one way to find out! He hesitated just a moment before plunging ahead and opening the comm channel that he knew Pete had equipped in his suit. “Hey, Web Head, swinging my way? Because I know a great hot dog stand in desperate need of some patrolling.” So long as he had web fluid, this was probably the easiest coping mechanism: go out, stay out, avoid people. It was just hit after hit. Guess what, Peter? You’re married. You have a daughter. You have clones! Gwen doesn’t look like Gwen, and Harry doesn’t look like Harry. You buddied up with the Avengers, and somehow everyone seems to know you’re Spider-Man. All told, it had the right notes for a country song, but the Shih Tzu didn’t completely fit in. Merle Haggard never wrote a song about a Shih Tzu. Peter hooked sharp around a corner, using the arc of his web to speed his swing before letting go and taking a short free-form twist through the air. He aimed his webshooter for a bit of masonwork jutting out of a nearby apartment building, but the voice in his ears caught him fully off-guard. The events unfolded like this: A scream. “ARGH!” A scramble. A flail in midair as his web instead struck a lower window, only to force him to drop awkwardly down into said window with a majestic thump and a groan. He clung desperately to the surface with all fours while trying to calm his heart. “...hello?!” Was there something in his ear? What the heck? Ben winced, not only at the scream, but then at the most ungraceful display of spidering happening just around the corner. Oh man, that looked painful. Well, more for the ego than for the actual impact, but still painful. Aaaaand that answered elephant in the room question… “Hey there, this is your conscience reminding you that Aunt May told you twelve times already to clean your room, so have you done it yet?” Ok, the knee jerk joking reaction to nerves probably wasn’t the best approach right now… Considering Pete all crouched there looked pretty freaked even without having any facial features to go by. “Ok, sorry, serious now,” he continued as he landed lower down the building than Pete in an easy crouch. Just in case. He wasn’t going to let his brother fall if he had another flail moment. “It’s a new feature. Comm link…” Right. Eighteen. That world then. “Communications device in your mask. It makes it easier to talk with your teammates when there’s a fight. Y’know, instead of having to yell and ruin your lovely singing voice.” It took a second to process that the voice in his ear was essentially his own plus a few years, and Peter blew out a held breath. Clones. Clones. This had to be the blond one, since he’d already been told grumpy one was the… well, sandy-haired one that came in an XL. What did MJ say the name was again? “You’d think there would be a doorbell or something first. A friendly little telephone ring? I…” Beneath the mask, Peter scowled slightly. “Can you hear me? How do I --” He jabbed at the ear of the mask a bit, trying to figure out if there was a button or a switch. “Why’s everything so complicated these days?” was added in low tones, Peter entirely ignoring the people gathering on the other side of the window to snap instagram pictures. At least it looked like Pete wasn't going to go sliding backwards. That was a plus. As Pete talked and jabbed at his ear -oh God, they really were such a dork then, weren't they- Ben crawled up the windows, slowly so he wouldn't take the younger boy by surprise. Which would really work better if wall crawling's default setting wasn't stealth mode. "Because it's our life," he supplied with a tilt of his head as he came up beside Peter. "Want some help? Or just head up for a chat? I wasn't kidding about that hot dog cart." He wiggled his fingers. "Or we could just communicate with our freaky mind merging powers." Peter tipped his head when the voice started to sound like it was below more than in his ear. It didn’t take much to spot the bright red and blue sneaking up next to him. Okay, so this was a conversation that was happening one way or another. All right. No need to bolt off without explaining because, surely, he wouldn't get too far away from a guy who could also websling. That wasn’t the best mindset, but it wasn’t wrong. “Help? No, nah. I do this all the time. I…” Peter’s eyes met one of the looky-loos, who was directing a camera at a region that would generally be considered personal. “Actually, up. Let’s go up to the roof,” he added, not waiting for concession or agreement before he skittered up the last few floors to find purchase on the top of the building. Ben tilted his head to the side in a much used gesture of ‘really? you expect me to believe that?’. But he didn’t voice it though. That could be done on the rooftop where there was more space to move around and pace. He’d been so focused on Pete that it wasn’t until he scrambled up that he noticed their audience. Ah. Yes. Ok. Definitely rooftop. He offered a wave to the onlookers before scrambling up after Peter and vaulting himself up onto the roof. Where he finally got a good look at the other man. Boy. Wow. In his mind, eighteen didn’t feel like that long ago. Farther for Peter and Kaine, but it still didn’t seem that long ago. Maybe because he got dragged out of college when he had to go on the road. But looking at the other Spider-Man and just how…smaller he was. He blew out a disbelieving laugh as he shook his head. “Man, look at you…” he said before his head moved with a roll of his eyes. “And yeah, right, you deal with comm links all the time. Uh-huh, pull the other one.” Speaking of… He reached up and turned his off. “So, scale of thirty to fifty, how much you still freaking out about future-AU-ville?” How many rooftop conversations had Peter had that didn’t end with someone trying to punch him off the side? Eyes narrowed behind the mask. None. Not a single one. It was way too easy to feel uneasy up here. It was exposed, and his own voice kept giving him verbal nudges in the side to open up about how ridiculously hard it was to getting footing going in a year you didn’t belong and around people you didn’t remember. He absently folded his arms and hedged up against one of the big vents coming out of the center of the roof. “Just got up here to get away from being looking at, buddy. Keep it up and I’ll have to start charging you,” Peter flung back, closing his eyes and trying to remember that this was a friend. Or he had it on good authority that Ben was, at least. MJ wouldn’t lie. He had a good feeling she wouldn’t steer him wrong. “And I’m not freaking. I’m…” Peter swept a hand out. “I’m still in an adjustment phase. Numbers go down as the streets head south just like I remember -- what more do I gotta know?” “No thanks, last time I went in for that kind of talk, it turned the whole house upside-down,” Ben quipped back. That had happened already, right? He was pretty sure it had happened before college started. Sometimes it could all be a jumble. He held his hands up in surrender, moving so he was still within talking distance with Peter, but leaving the boy plenty of escape routes. Last thing he wanted was for him to feel trapped. “Hey, I get that. It’s a lot of punches to roll with, right? Streets might work the same, but the buildings change. And then the tech’s just lept and bounded forward.” He tapped his finger against his ear. “I can show you how to turn it off completely so no one else bothers you.” Maybe not the smartest idea, but… it was an offering he could make. Eyes narrowed once again between Peter’s eyespots as he tried to figure out if there was an inside joke that he should be getting. Odds were on yes, but he couldn’t even keep track anymore. More than that, though, he couldn’t help but notice the little tweaks in Ben’s costume that made it stand out from his own. There was a fluidity in the design with how the red and blue tapered into each other. Similar, but different enough -- it had to have been one of those permission scenarios, too. Peter slapped a hand against the back of his neck and rubbed at a vaguely sore muscle. Future him had to have given his blessing. That was the upshot, wasn’t it? After a pause: “All right, where’s the off button?” Well, it was a start. A fond smile at the gestures tugged at his lips even as Ben narrowed his own eyes behind his eyespots. He tilted his head up and crossed his arms loosely over his chest. “Promise to hang around for at least five minutes after I tell ya?” he joked. “There is a hot dog in it for you. Those haven’t changed at all and promise no funny business. No Mysterio or Chameleon or any of that weirdness.” He held his hand out to Peter. “Deal?” Peter tilted his head to look at the outstretched hand, then back up at Ben, then back down. “I’ll give you five, but you might have to convince me about anything past that,” Peter finally answered, a hidden grin beneath his mask. Maybe it was the mention of Chameleon and Mysterio. If this guy had dealt with them, too, then he couldn’t be so bad if he was still standing here. A gloved hand was clapped into the awaiting and open palm. “Deal, but only ‘cause you have a voice that makes me think you’re trustworthy. And I’m hungry.” Ben laughed as he squeezed Pete’s hand a moment before letting it go to gently bump his knuckles against the slighter boy’s shoulder. “That doesn’t change either. We… actually have a bit of a rep for it. And I’ve been told I’ve got a trustworthy face too.” He waved his hands around the eye spots. “I think it’s the eyes.” He nodded his head towards the edge of the roof as he walked backwards in the same direction. “Well, we haven’t come to punches yet, so I’m thinking my convincing chances are looking good. But first…” He tapped his ear. “Voice activated actually. Hopefully it’ll still work and if not, we can work on the calibrations some place safe.” “Oh, good. Reliability.” Peter tried to not dwell on the ‘we’ that had snuck into Ben’s sentence. Trying to think about someone else as yourself to the point that even traits like that were shared? It just made a guy want to bolt, but Peter anchored his feet. He promised. Besides, this communication gizmo in his ear needed to dealt with before someone else caught him off-guard. “Okay, so what do I say? Off? Off? ...please turn off?” Another chuckled as a fond, amused grin spread across his face under the mask. Yeah, just a bit of a dork. Ben shook his head. “Comm link off. Blo-” He frowned as he eyed Peter. “Y’want everyone to just bug off or you still want some emergency calls if, well, y’know, New York decides to implode in Sinister Six times a hundred?” “I…” Peter bit at his lip underneath the mask. “Better put through emergencies. I’m not about to get mad if someone needs me to rescue Fritz the cat from a burning building. I got a heart,” he added, almost on the same breath as a sigh. “It’s Ben, right? I have that right?” Peter ventured after a slight pause. “Comm link off. Emergency calls only. That should do the trick.” Ben smiled. “Y’know. Since we can’t have Fritz the cat worrying about any singed fur.” He ran a hand over the back of his mask, starting at his neck and circling up to the top of his skull as he glanced around. “Aw, c’mon. I need to talk to the press if you don’t even know who Spider-Man is.” Alright, alright, got the jokes in and no spider-sense, so no eavesdroppers, right? He nodded slowly as he rested his hands on his hips. “Yeah, I’m Ben. Pleased to meet you. You’re Stark, right?” A chime in Peter’s ear seemed to suggest that the command had worked, although he gave it a brief second to see if something else happened. There was nothing like having a suit that you had no idea came with special features. For a guy who routinely stuck to walls, this whole brand new world thing was slipping right through his fingers. “Ben as in Uncle,” Peter supplied, and even though Ben couldn’t have seen the eyes behind the eyespots narrow, he would probably had a good idea why the younger man had leaned in, almost as if he could sniff that answer out. “Right?” The question of his own name was benched in a show of Parker evasion. Ben opened his mouth to let loose another joke, but then snapped it closed. Yeah, there was the Grimm angle and how he'd really slimmed down, amazing what getting rid of a few kidney stones would do... but this was Uncle Ben that Pete was bringing up. Just three years gone. He took a deep breath and blew it out, despite the mask making the action not as nice with the ugh airplane breath, before slowly nodding his head. "Yeah, Ben as in Uncle." A pause. He didn't talk about this regularly, let alone when he was all garbed up, it's not like he had to explain it to the folks who knew enough to piece it together, but... Well, a gesture of faith went a long way, right? "And Reilly as in Aunt. Because, y'know, Ben May would've just sounded weird and led to too many 'Ben may what?' jokes..." He pressed his lips together to stop himself from talking. Just for a moment though before tilting his head to the side. "How much has everyone actually told you?" There was a slow nod from Peter after a moment, but the defensive pose had only swapped from pressing in towards Ben to leaning back and his crossing arms. Who’d signed off on him using the names, anyway? It wasn’t like Uncle Ben was around to give approval -- not back home and not here. He’d visited the grave; it was just the same as it looked back home, save for the dates engraved. It twisted Peter’s stomach around, but then so did most of what had been tossed on his plate since he’d woken up ‘wrong.’ “I’m supposed to be married, three clones? There’s a dog. I have a job, but they know I’m whatever a refugee is. Daughter. I… look, I’ve heard plenty. Doesn’t mean it sinks in a day or two later,” Peter replied, probably in a slightly harsher tone than he meant. “Might as well just tell me what’s the same ‘cause it’s probably a way shorter list.” Peter huffed, taking a quarter turn away from Ben. “So I’m okay with you being Ben?” Even with the harsh tone directed at him, Ben’s stance softened up. He knew that feeling well. Maybe not the exact same thing, but he’d had the rug of what his life actually was yanked out from underneath him enough to get it. Just trying to catch up with five years of history that wasn’t even his own was tough enough without then making it something that actually happened, or will happen, to you. “Or a week. Or a year. I’d put money one some of it not even being capable of sinking in.” He shrugged. “For what it’s worth, good ol’ jolly JJJ hates Spider-Man here. Seems to be a trait that transfers across every universe. Not sure if anyone has webbed him to a chair yet though, so if you want to get in that first again, go for it.” Which just left… He rubbed his hand over the back of his head, shifting his weight uncomfortably. “He- you… I don’t know…” he breathed out. “We never really talked about it actually… You were probably just relieved I wasn’t going by your name. I mean, multiple Starks going around like that would be highly problematic. At least in our world. This world? No biggie.” Another quiet moment ticked by, as Peter tried to wrap his head around how much Ben seemed to know, before he replied. “I’ll think it over. Guy’s probably old as the hills by now, though.” Or not. It was impossible to figure out how time worked here. But the iffy response on Ben’s part snagged Peter. He chewed the inside of his lip slightly, then offered a small shrug. “Maybe you should have a conversation about that one. Just -- just calling it as I see it. If -- when I’m…” Peter cringed, but not quite visibly. “When everything’s back the way it should be, I mean.” “Probably more like how you remember him now actually. This world’s weird. All future city and all, but… well… closer to your time people-wise. With random changes.” Ben could’ve continued on. Just rambled about the same parts and different parts. Anything to avoid… that. He couldn’t fight the tension creeping through his body though, the automatic response to ready for a fight. He took his turn for a quiet moment before waving his hand dismissively. “I’ll think about it. It won’t change anything though.” Best case scenario, he’d bring it up, Peter would be surprised and brush it off, and they’d both laugh about it. Worst case… he had over another year of memories here to distance himself from it, but those awkward times before they embraced the whole ‘cousin/brother’ thing still weren’t that long ago for him. If Pete actually wasn’t ok with it… Well, it’d just make things awkward. He’d lost so much already, he wasn’t going to give up his own name too. “Y’know what?” Peter flung his hands up. It was partly a move to shirk the topic, but also just to spin the conversation back into neutral territory. “Everything about this place confuses. You gonna keep me here all day to chat, or can we get out of plain sight for a bit? I get a feeling losing you isn’t gonna work out for me.” As much as it pained him to admit that. The other Spider-Man moved faster and with more confidence. Peter knew the score and he wasn’t after a fight. “Hot dog? You promised.” The tension visibly left Ben’s body with a whoosh of breath. Oh good, that was a relief. And here he was worrying he’d have to find a way to deflect, but keep the younger Pete around. “And you haven’t even been around for the other aging shenanigans, the body swap, the gender swap…” He tapped his finger against his chin before shrugging. “There were other things too. So, yeah, I think we can change this from Alterna-New York to Confuse-verse. You can even take all the credit for that.” He nodded as he started to edge towards the rooftop ledge. “Y’could try. But you’d lose out on that hot dog.” He raised his hands and wiggled his fingers. “And I know where you live. So, hot dog. On me. I can try and explain a few of the confusing things or we can talk about pigeons. Whatever you like.” Perched on the edge, he smiled behind the mask. “Plus that cart with the really good chili dogs still exists, so one more thing to your short list of non-confusing things that stay the same.” |