2013.05.04 - Man in the Mirror

The Baxter Building is like most buildings in New York. A tall leviathan that draws out people's curiosity and wonder from its design. The same design can be a little off putting to most until they go inside. Usually people see a sterile environment with a front desk that's more than ready to check any and every one that enters inside. Smells of cinnamon rolls from the cafe off to the side gives an inviting atmosphere for anyone who enters. Yes, there is a security desk parked a little father back just as ready to check people in. Yet the Baxter Building seems more apt and ready to give tours to elementary, middle and high school with the hope of introducing the world of Science and Wonder to eager minds. 
In the same cafe sits Ben Reilly in a lab coat that covers his red button up shirt that's currently unbuttoned and showing off a white undershirt. His legs are clad in typical blue jeans that even cover part of his black vans shoes. Usually he would dress a little more refined for the job of working at the Baxter Building, but today is a jeans and t-shirt day. A lot of the time if he is on a break or needs a moment to relax the cafe would provide solace. Notes are jotted down into a notebook that he sometimes flips over a few pages then draws something on that page before going back to his notes.
Midtown High's annual Sophomore field trip to the offices of the Daily Planet ends with a stroll up 42nd Street to Times Square. Mr. Delbert, the English teacher, is notoriously engrossed in his walking, verbal history of the City and doesn't notice when students slip away to smoke, make out or, in Peter Parker's case, visit the Baxter Building. 
He's not entirely sure why he's there. He had made some assumptions about who this Scarlet Spider in the Fantastic Four was, but he wasn't sure he was correct. Not until the little display at the Asgardian party last week. He keeps a Mets ball cap pulled low of his face as he strides across the floor toward the reception, pausing when he catches sight of a familiar face out of the corner of his eye.
He turn, moving towards the cafe and reaching into the satchel he wears over one shoulder. From it he produces a fanciful top hat, tossing it onto the table that Ben sits at and clearing his throat, “That's yours.”
Hearing his voice, well a slightly younger rendition of his voice, brings Ben to attention. His eyes snap forward to Peter while completely ignoring the black tophat. Silence sits between the two that could easily be mistaken for brothers. "Well this isn't awkward or anything," Ben says to try and lighten the mood. This day is and has been long overdue. 
Lightly pushing the chair across from him out, Ben holds a hand showing he wouldn't mind some company. "So, how are things?" the question is asked because there's really no way to approach the guy you're cloned from in your first BIG meeting with him. It's not like someone wrote, "The Idiots Guide to Meeting Your Clone." Wrapping his fingers against the small grayish white table that has enough room to comfortably host one person and their things, Ben tries not to look at the hardwood floors of the cafe. He's sure Sue would be waiting on him the second this meeting thanks to Security Camera feeds giving her details.
“I'm fine,” Peter offers, sitting down and resting the school satchel in his lap, “But I'm not the guy who took off from the party.”
Probably not the most diplomatic way to approach it, but if you can't be brutally honest with yourself then who can you be honest with? He lifts the camera from around his neck, taking an unsolicited photograph of the man across the table from him.
“Sorry, this is just too weird.”
Smirking at Peter's honesty. Ben offers himself a smile, "Yeah. No kidding. Make sure to get your good side," the photo goes off then the honesty comes out both ways. "You've started a revolution you know. Kind of like you're a nerdier version of Dr. King."
“I don't know about that,” Peter mumbles, distractedly messing with the camera and leaving the comment to hang in the air while he changes the subject, “So, how much do you actually know? Like, did whatever they did to make you come with memories? What do you call yourself?”
Smirking and knowing the change of subject because it's what he would do. "Trust me you have. Look at me. I'm here as per the revolution. So is Spider-Woman," Ben lets that bit of information hang in the air for a moment. He wants Peter to picture a genderbent version of himself walking around New York. 
Eventually the clone grins, "She's not like us. At least not in the genetic way. Likes Spiders though. There'll be more and they may not be quite like us," Peter has to face these facts because they'll eventually smack him the face. 
"I'm not sure on that one...," he confesses then gives a grim look, "Think of everything that it took to make me. Is it that far fetched to believe that they didn't have the means to create some kind of mind-map too?" 
Then the question of "What do you call yourself?" comes out. Dark brown eyes do an eyeroll, "I have a name. Name, social security number, education history, girlfriend. All legit. All solidified due to Dr. Richards," then he blushes for a moment. "Girlfriend was kinda all me."
Peter rolls his own eyes in turn at the mention of the girlfriend, finally letting the camera rest on the table. He nods his head as he takes in the rest of what is said, though the mention of more spider-people causes his mouth to tense up strangely.
“I guess not. Well, if you had to get all that stuff set up by Mister Fantastic then I guess you're not just calling yourself Peter Parker – which is, I'll admit, the number one concern. Not much I can do about you using the powers, since something tells me you've had the same lesson that I had. I wouldn't even try to tell you not to. I guess I should just be grateful you're not trying to take my life or something.”
He takes a look around the cafe, “You could do worse than the Fantastic Four.”
Seeing the tensing mouth Ben tries to assure Peter, "The girl is alright. She knows Spider-Style or something. Apparently it's like Crane style but cooler," he smiles then admire the camera. "Digital?" Technology did have a way of distracting Peter, both of them. 
"I was even thinking of asking her for training lessons. You should come by one time," his own thought about Spider-Unity shows. A heavy sigh escapes his lips becaue now it's Ben's time to be brutally honest with himself. "I wanted to take over your life. It's why I was created even. Someone wanted to oust you from your position and put me in it. That or they wanted someone as cute as us as their own private super-soldier. Either case they wanted you out," again his brown eyes go to the hardwood floor. He can't even bring himself for eyecontact in this case, "I wanted to be you because of the memories. You never thought you'd hear anyone else say this but I wanted to be Peter Parker. All the dateless nights, times we got picked on by Flash, all of it. I wanted it." 
His eyes glance upward, "When you have the memories of someone else you want to be that someone else. Everything you rely on comes from the life you wish you had because it's all you have. If you're a good person then you know you shouldn't because as Ben would say, 'With great power comes great responsibilty.' Nothing is as powerful as knowing you could replace someone else and most of the world wouldn't notice." Well except for the aging by three years thing, that could have been noticed. Sighing, "I won't replace you but I'm not going to sit idly by either. Not when I can do all the things you can do...So, I set out and created my own identity. The name's Ben," and Ben gives Peter a serious look, one that would hopefully convey that he understands the gravity of taking that name. "Ben Spencer Reed Reilly. It's nice to meet you Peter Benjamin Parker."
Peter nods his head slowly, saying nothing about the choice of the name. He doesn't seem mad or offended, but there's nothing for him to say on it. He just nods his head, listening but keeping whatever his own thoughts are to himself. Like it or not, he's a teenager and a socially awkward one at that. In costume? Yes, he can tell jokes and speechify and everything else but without that shell he's more like, well, this.
“Film,” Peter corrects about the camera, turning if over in his hands as though looking at it anew, “I've got a digital one for the belt. The components were easier to miniaturize.”
A pause and then, finally, he speaks up, “I'm not going to ask you to stop being a – a spider-guy. You're just as entitled to it as me. You didn't ask to get made, I guess. And this Spider-Woman? It's not like I have a patent. Judging by what I've seen of her, the name fits. I'll, uh, I'll think about coming.”
The tone, familiar to the both of them, hints that he probably won't attend. It's all too weird. Some time is needed to process it.
Knowing that tone and look Ben knows Peter will need some time. "Good man. Film is always better than digital when you want a real quality shot," he smiles then starts to tug at his wrist for a moment hoping the comment and action would segway them into different conversation. Hopefully Peter would feel a little more at ease. 
"Fantastic Four are good people. So are Young Allies. That's where I lurk. You're welcome to swing by either. One important matter lingers between us though," he can't believe this question is going to come out. Still it has to be asked, "What are we going to do when it comes to backstory? I mean my striking good looks aren't exactly different than yours. How do we avoid people thinking I'm you and you're me. We've both got friends and family. We need a story so no one confused Ben and Peter when they easily can." Which Ben has already had to deal with once or twice already. He just didn't want to run into any of Peter's exes without a story ready to go. Not that there are many but still, one couldn't help to be prepared.
“Well, one of us could dye our hair?” Peter suggests, though the tone hints that it not be him, “Maybe cut it a little differently?”
He removes the glasses he wears, turning them over in his hands, “I don't really need these anymore, but I'll keep wearing them. That's another little change. Other than that, we could just tell people you're a cousin or something? I don't think anyone is going to dig into it too much.”
"Would you really dye your hair? Because I think you know my answer to that," he gives a polite smile. "Cutting it differently is fine. Also, you should dress and be how you want to be. I am too. We're kind of like the transporter problem come to life." Hopefully Peter would remember the transporter problem where taking a Transporter, like the one in Star Trek, beams someone off planet. One day it malfunctions and not only does it return the person home it leaves a person behind on the planet. Both live their lives according to how they would do things. Questions about whether or not the one left behind is real come about. He thinks he's real. He believes he's real. The man thinks, feels and does things accordingly. Yet the people debate if that makes him real. At the moment Ben is the one that's been left on the planet while Peter is off with Kirk telling him the latest plan to whoo an Orion is Illogical. "I would be honored to be your cousin."
“Alright,” Peter answers, turning the glasses around in his hands, “Well, I'll keep wearing them. Okay, well, you're going to have to ask Mister Fantastic to set up whatever paperwork that we need to say you're my cousin. I've never tried hacking social services but I don't really want a criminal record. Something tells me the World's Smartest Man would be better at it, too.”
“Okay, so, I'll tell people you're my cousin if they ask. But I think we ought to try to keep things separate as much as we can. I live in Queens and I assume you're living here? That seems to take care of that. I don't think we'll be seen together that often outside of masks.”
Nodding understanding the concerns. Still one other question has to be asked. "Why are you running? From me that is...Y'know the World is too small of a place for us -NOT- to cross paths at some point." Ben knows the answer but he wants Pete to admit it's there.
“I'm not,” Peter answers, putting his hands on the table as though separating an invisible substance into two distinct piles, “These are Spider-Man problems. These are Peter Parker problems. They don't mix. They can't. Something tells me you know that well enough.”
"I know they're separate problems. At the same time they're not. Calling one stack O2 then another Oxygen doesn't mean it's not the same substance. But it sounds like you're trying to keep your distance from me. If you're trying to distance yourself just be honest with yourself. I've had more time to cope," he looks at the invisible line. "I try to keep the O2 look different from yours. Maybe one day if we have a team I'll go with the giant white eyes or something, but not without your permission. You know me better than that." Which is true the best person that would know you is yourself.
“We'll see what happens,” Peter says succinctly, getting to his feet and gathering his things, “I'm going to need time to process this whole thing. You've had more time for that than I have.”
He pulls the strap of the satchel further up his shoulder, taking another look around the cafe, “I've got to go.”
He nods understandingly, "However long you need. You've got it," a flood of emotions run over Ben. Seeing himself, in a matter of speaking, walk away. There goes the life he could easily have. Yet he knows he never will, for better or worse.
Category:Log