transemacabre (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
transemacabre) wrote2006-05-04 12:42 am
transemacabre) wrote2006-05-04 12:42 am
Dead Guys: A bridge between...
Marvelfic, PG.
The whispers began, and grew into a roar. Spider-Man first heard them from Daredevil, who had some contacts in District X. Rumors, half-truths, wishful thinking. There was some guy in town, two strange guys actually, who would pop up randomly and any ex-mutant who came in contact with them suddenly had their powers again. Most freakish of all were the descriptions, vague but intriguing: both youngish guys, one with a white stripe in his hair and the other would sometimes turn blue and fly.
A white stripe.
Peter found himself on the Brooklyn Bridge, in the rain, at two in the morning, and he couldn't remember why he had come here. He had been patrolling more these days, since the anti-mutant hysteria had been growing again recently since some of the ex-mutants had been getting their powers back. He was beat, aching all over, all he wanted was to go home and crawl in bed next to MJ and listen to her soft breathing. Warmth and love. This bridge held nothing but bad memories.
"Hi, Peter. I knew you'd come."
The voice shattered him down to the marrow in his bones. Rain lashed him in the face. A brilliant flash appeared in the darkness, and a ghost was hovering beside him. "Nate Grey," Peter croaked.
"None other." Nate was wearing a pair of ragged jeans and a dirty trenchcoat, his hair was shorter, but it was definitely him. Or was it?
"This is some sort of trick," Peter said aloud. He shook his head. "I'm hallucinating. Or someone's brainwashed me. You're dead. You died a long time ago."
Not a trick, Peter, said the voice in his mind. I came back -- or rather, someone brought me back. It's a long story. Genis-Vell is alive, too.
"Who?" Peter was momentarily too stunned to think clearly. "That guy from the Thunderbolts? Captain Marvel?"
"Yeah," said Nate aloud. "He brought me back, and then I brought him back. Or somethin' like that. I missed you. I've been gone too long."
Something cracked inside Peter's chest, and then he was on his knees, gasping for breath. He gagged. "You... you killed yourself..."
"I had to. To save the earth. There were these aliens, you see... whatever." Nate's face twitched. "I didn't think it'd be so hard on you. I thought you'd be over it."
"Over it?!" Peter yelled, unable to feel anything other than helpless anger or sheer helplessness, and deciding on the former. "What in the world would make you think I would ever get over that?!"
Nate landed beside him, his bare feet resting on the cold steel beams. "I'm sorry," he said. "Since I came back -- I ain't been the same. Something's messed up in my head. I think Genis did somethin' to me when he brought me back." His hand reached out for Peter's shoulder. "I would never have... done what I did if I thought I had any other choice, okay?" So close he could pick up Peter's surface thoughts, whirling with relief and sadness and regret and images of Goblins and blonde girls and Chameleons. Peter didn't have good luck with bridges. He thought back, soothing, murmuring. He couldn't bear to think of Peter in pain.
They embraced there on the Brooklyn Bridge, both breathless. Several long moments in which the only sound came from the driving rain, and the only motion the beating of two hearts.
Heartbeats. Living heartbeats.
Peter was too shaken to speak for a long time, so they sat side by side, leaning into one another, and watched the cars drive by below. The city glimmered through the rain. At last, Peter said, "It's you giving those mutant kids back their powers, right?"
"Only the ones who wanted them back," Nate said, playing with the edge of his coat.
"Why?"
"Because I have to do something. I can't sit still. I can't be still. I was born for one purpose, and now that's over, I've got nothin' left. But I can't sit around feeling sorry for myself, I have to move." Nate stood up. "Where do you live now?"
"The Avengers Tower." Peter explained the whole situation, but Nate picked up most of it from his surface thoughts. "Come by sometime. Mary Jane would be happy to see you again. Maybe we can find you a place to stay."
"I'd... like that." Nate smiled, and it was like the lightning on a dark night. "But first, I gotta go find Genis. He's lost. But I'll be back soon, I promise."
And then he was gone, leaving Peter with endless questions and no easy answers.
The whispers began, and grew into a roar. Spider-Man first heard them from Daredevil, who had some contacts in District X. Rumors, half-truths, wishful thinking. There was some guy in town, two strange guys actually, who would pop up randomly and any ex-mutant who came in contact with them suddenly had their powers again. Most freakish of all were the descriptions, vague but intriguing: both youngish guys, one with a white stripe in his hair and the other would sometimes turn blue and fly.
A white stripe.
Peter found himself on the Brooklyn Bridge, in the rain, at two in the morning, and he couldn't remember why he had come here. He had been patrolling more these days, since the anti-mutant hysteria had been growing again recently since some of the ex-mutants had been getting their powers back. He was beat, aching all over, all he wanted was to go home and crawl in bed next to MJ and listen to her soft breathing. Warmth and love. This bridge held nothing but bad memories.
"Hi, Peter. I knew you'd come."
The voice shattered him down to the marrow in his bones. Rain lashed him in the face. A brilliant flash appeared in the darkness, and a ghost was hovering beside him. "Nate Grey," Peter croaked.
"None other." Nate was wearing a pair of ragged jeans and a dirty trenchcoat, his hair was shorter, but it was definitely him. Or was it?
"This is some sort of trick," Peter said aloud. He shook his head. "I'm hallucinating. Or someone's brainwashed me. You're dead. You died a long time ago."
Not a trick, Peter, said the voice in his mind. I came back -- or rather, someone brought me back. It's a long story. Genis-Vell is alive, too.
"Who?" Peter was momentarily too stunned to think clearly. "That guy from the Thunderbolts? Captain Marvel?"
"Yeah," said Nate aloud. "He brought me back, and then I brought him back. Or somethin' like that. I missed you. I've been gone too long."
Something cracked inside Peter's chest, and then he was on his knees, gasping for breath. He gagged. "You... you killed yourself..."
"I had to. To save the earth. There were these aliens, you see... whatever." Nate's face twitched. "I didn't think it'd be so hard on you. I thought you'd be over it."
"Over it?!" Peter yelled, unable to feel anything other than helpless anger or sheer helplessness, and deciding on the former. "What in the world would make you think I would ever get over that?!"
Nate landed beside him, his bare feet resting on the cold steel beams. "I'm sorry," he said. "Since I came back -- I ain't been the same. Something's messed up in my head. I think Genis did somethin' to me when he brought me back." His hand reached out for Peter's shoulder. "I would never have... done what I did if I thought I had any other choice, okay?" So close he could pick up Peter's surface thoughts, whirling with relief and sadness and regret and images of Goblins and blonde girls and Chameleons. Peter didn't have good luck with bridges. He thought back, soothing, murmuring. He couldn't bear to think of Peter in pain.
They embraced there on the Brooklyn Bridge, both breathless. Several long moments in which the only sound came from the driving rain, and the only motion the beating of two hearts.
Heartbeats. Living heartbeats.
Peter was too shaken to speak for a long time, so they sat side by side, leaning into one another, and watched the cars drive by below. The city glimmered through the rain. At last, Peter said, "It's you giving those mutant kids back their powers, right?"
"Only the ones who wanted them back," Nate said, playing with the edge of his coat.
"Why?"
"Because I have to do something. I can't sit still. I can't be still. I was born for one purpose, and now that's over, I've got nothin' left. But I can't sit around feeling sorry for myself, I have to move." Nate stood up. "Where do you live now?"
"The Avengers Tower." Peter explained the whole situation, but Nate picked up most of it from his surface thoughts. "Come by sometime. Mary Jane would be happy to see you again. Maybe we can find you a place to stay."
"I'd... like that." Nate smiled, and it was like the lightning on a dark night. "But first, I gotta go find Genis. He's lost. But I'll be back soon, I promise."
And then he was gone, leaving Peter with endless questions and no easy answers.
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But oh my god, poor confused Peter.
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