#Curly reacts more to people distress than the actual cause of the issue if you havent noticed

[dykedvonte]

Curly's attempt to prioritize the crew's happiness over safety is very in line with the internal struggles he is going through with wondering if he is happy in his life and path or should he forfeit that security.

It's upsetting cause while as understandable as that projection is, the want to be happy in something you don't feel secure in, he can't see past it and allows it to clog his judgement. This is no longer a matter of happiness but safety, but he in the end was the safest member of the crew in practically every aspect. It's not something he's going to understand the weight of from his position.

His current state is also a reflection and inversion of his mindset at the beginning of the game as well as a metaphor for the exact type of endangerment Anya felt. Where as with Jimmy, he gets to feel that "safety" Curly felt with the position but the lack of happiness he perceived he had.

[ghostiewriter]

chapter one | tale of a slightly unstable teen hero

Summary: JJ is starting to gain recognition around New York as the new hero in town. However, some complications arise with his new chemistry partner. Oh, and turns out he isn’t the only bloke around here with powers.

Warnings: John B is a simp, I feel like that needs a warning tbh. Umm there’s a lot of swearing (I’m Scottish, don’t judge), again some violence and fighting, also some cute ass moments between JJ and his mum so enjoy that

Word Count: 8.1K

A/N: Sooo there’s finally some Jiara in this chapter!! Hope you enjoy👀and I’m not responsible for any feels caused by JJ and Georgia Maybank!!

masterlist // taglist // ao3

“Spider-Man does it again! Report of our favourite web-slinging hero saving the day once again after a fatal accident left an apartment complex on the corner of 5th and 36th street in flames. The teen hero arrived at the scene not long after the distress call was made to the local fire department and managed to rescue over twelve people that were trapped on the top floor. New York thanks Spider-Man once again.”

JJ grinned as he leaned back in his seat, sparing a smug look towards John B in the driver’s seat. JJ didn’t usually carpool with John B but it was getting colder and his extra-curricular activities were wearing him exhausted by morning. Plus, the last time JJ skated to school when he was half asleep, Pope had to pull him out of a trash can. Turns out raccoons can be very territorial and did not appreciate the blond taking a small visit into their home. He was pretty sure he still had scars on his back from some of those little bastards.

“Three weeks on the job and you already have a little fanbase,” John B commented, reaching over to turn the radio down a little since the reporter moved onto some irrelevant news neither of the boys cared about. “Soon you’ll have a swarm of fangirls chasing after you while you fight crime.”

“Don’t be jealous, JB,” JJ grinned, both arms behind his head as he looked at the passing view. “I’m sure one of my groupies will slum it down for you.” He teased, only laughing when he felt the flick on his forehead.

As much as he hated to admit it, JJ had seriously enjoyed the past three weeks. They were intense, impulsive and unpredictable. Just how JJ liked his life to be. It wasn’t easy at first though, it took a good few attempts before the people of New York actually labelled him as a hero. Maybe it was because he was some young bloke who popped out of nowhere with abilities that no could really understand. Or maybe it was because he was going around in a red ski mask, blue shirt, a red vest with an awfully drawn spider on it and some blue joggers. He looked like a right on idiot, especially with the chunky goggles Pope added to his costume. But if it kept his identity secret, then so be it. The last thing JJ wanted was a bunch of journalists swarming his apartment, especially since he wanted to keep this whole alter ego away from his parents. In fact, he wanted to keep it away from anyone who wasn’t John B or Pope.

It was safer that way.

“At least that’s one more that Pope.” John B said nonchalantly.

“As if, dude!” JJ scoffed, grinning at the distressed—and fairly high pitched—‘WHAT’ that came from the brunette. “Oh, c’mon, Pope created a whole ass bat signal for me! You just sit there and look pretty! Pope gets at least two groupies.” He said with a shrug.

It was true. JJ knew Pope was smart, but this was next level. After realising that JJ wasn’t getting the recognition he needed to be labelled a ‘superhero’, Pope had come up with the ingenuous idea to infiltrate the police radio stations. Not only did they have full access to updates on crimes around the city, but Pope even felt a little fancy and made it so JJ would get a notification sent to his phone the second there was a job for Spider-Man. That boy was way too smart for his own good, but JJ was grateful for it.

“Aw, you think I’m pretty?” John B asked with a teasing grin.

“Yeah,” JJ smiled, reaching to place his hand on John B’s shoulder with a squeeze. “Pretty fucking ugly.”

John B’s smile instantly dropped as he scowled at JJ, who was happily snickering at the sudden change in mood. “Whatever, Spider-boy.”

“Yikes, low blow.”

The rest of the journey was spent in a similar vibe, except with JJ checking his phone every five minutes. He couldn’t help it, but the past three weeks had been some of the most exciting in his life. JJ had been labelled the troublemaker his whole life, the one that was throwing pencils into Mrs Ramirez’s curls because they looked like little hoops. Or even just doing his damn best to avoid the work he was given. It was a force of habit. JJ’s brain was running at a million miles a second. Nothing could hold him down, keep him entertained for longer than thirty minutes at most. And his teachers had constantly reminded him that his impulsive nature and high energy would lead him nowhere good in life.

All JJ had to say to them now was a massive ‘FUCK YOU!’ because how wrong they were. It was those qualities that made JJ the perfect hero. He could react quick to a sudden change, he was always on his feet, he had found something that not only could he channel all his energy into—but he was damn good at it as well. John B and Pope had warned him that it was best to keep himself humble, to not get too arrogant. But who was he kidding? JJ made a pretty fucking bomb superhero and everyone loved him. It seemed like he deserved to feel arrogant, to soak in his time in the spotlight. He enjoyed every single second.

So, can you really blame JJ for checking his phone, wanting an excuse to put that mask on and do the one thing he is good at? Except for skateboarding. Everyone knew JJ was the best skater in Queens.

Unfortunately, there was no sudden crimes that JJ could use as excuse to ditch school. A true tragedy, if you asked him. It seems like he will just have to suffer through another day of learning things that either happened way too long ago, didn’t make sense to him or he just truly didn’t care about. Which just happened to be basically every subject—excluding wood-shop. Except he was taken out of the class because apparently making mini bongs for birds is not okay. Who would’ve thought.

“I don’t see what the issue is—it’s a fool-proof plan!” John B argued as the two boys made their way through the corridors of Midtown High. Only stopping once they reached John B’s locker where he exchanged his books and JJ checked out the hallway for anything that caught his eye.

“Bro, you have a ten-year plan to end up with Sarah Cameron,” JJ stated bluntly. “And even then, you end up as her second husband—“

“No one can prove what happened to the first.”

“It’s fucking sad, JB.”

“It’s a solid plan.” John B stated simply and shrugged his shoulders, deciding to ignore JJ as he rolled his eyes, muttering something about John B being a ‘hopeless fool’. John B only grinned wider and glanced at his watch before whispering a small ‘shit’ to himself. “I gotta go, see you at lunch.” And with that, John B was zooming his way down the corridor.

“You know it’s really creepy that you plan when you bump into her!” JJ called down the corridor, but he doubted John B heard him. “Like really fucking creepy…like restraining order level creepy!

Once he noticed John B’s head turn the corner, undoubtedly on his way to ‘coincidentally’ bump into Sarah Cameron, JJ calmly made his way to his first period class, not in a big rush to get there.

**********

You see, after the incident in wood shop and many others after that, the school had taken the decision to move JJ into a class they deemed more valuable of his time. Chemistry. Stick the ADHD kid in a room full of chemicals…seemed about right. However, JJ was being transferred half way through the term with absolutely no knowledge in chemistry other than how to make a Molotov cocktail. Therefore, he didn’t really see an issue in showing up to a class he was already hopeless in. His teacher disagreed.

“Mr Maybank, it’s nice of you to finally join us.” Mr Marino—a middle-aged bald man who had looked as though he had been through one too many divorces and contained most of his knowledge in the form of his beer belly—commented as JJ entered the class.

“Oh, you wouldn’t believe what happened to me!” JJ sighed dramatically.

“Let me guess: your alarm didn’t go off.”

“It was my pet monkey, sir. Has a mind of its own.”

“Your pet monkey?”

“Yup, his name is JB. Nasty wee guy but I keep him around, he’s a good laugh. Could do with a shower though.”

“Take a seat, Maybank.”

“I can feel the love.” JJ grinned before he turned to look at the class. It was set up with eight workbenches, two seats at each. His eyes scanned over each one before he caught an empty seat at the back-left workbench, the only empty seat—and just his luck it was next to the curly haired beauty for the trip.

JJ was starting to think he might actually enjoy this class.

“We just keep meeting, sweetheart. I think it’s a sign.” JJ whispered to her as he took his seat next to her, definitely sitting a little closer than he had to. He tried not to smirk when he noticed her subtly moving away from him. JJ always loved a challenge.

“Or a punishment.” She replied bluntly, not even sparing JJ a glance.

“Aw, is this how it’s going to be for the rest of the year, princess?” JJ muttered with a pout. He tried not to smile when she finally turned to look at him.

“Rafe got a concussion.” She hissed.

“So?” JJ frowned.

“So? You caused it!”

“And I should care because?”

“He is banned from the football team for six weeks!”

JJ stared at her blankly. “And…?”

“He is the captain!”

“Boohoo, they’ll survive without him.” JJ shrugged, leaning back in his stool as he flashed her one of his usual girl-charming smiles. “But hey, if you’re really stressed out about it, I’m sure I can help you find a way to relax.”

“You’re a pig.” She stated with a small huff, stubbornly turning to face the front, planning to not even give him the chance to redeem himself. Trust me when I say Kiara is an open person, always there to give people a second chance. But JJ Maybank was not one of those people. In the three times she had met him, he had been nothing but a shameless flirt who had no care for the world beyond his sex life. She could be judging him too quickly, but in her defence, he hadn’t given her anything else to work with.

However, Kiara assumed her behaviour was clear enough that she didn’t want to talk to him, that she could gladly go the rest of the year without willingly speaking to him. But this is JJ. Hyperactive, unable to sit still JJ. He didn’t get the hint.

“So, do anything interesting this weekend?” JJ asked her, that classic smirk of his on his lips. But she didn’t answer him. Instead, she kept her gaze on Mr Marino and his oh-so interesting talk on bond orbitals within an atom.

JJ raised his eyebrows when he received no reply from her. “Giving me the silent treatment now? That’s a bit rude.” He commented.

“So is giving someone a concussion.” She stated.

“Do you want to know what I did?” JJ asked.

“No.”

“Geez, princess, no one ever taught you manners?” He teased, taking the pen he was spinning between his fingers to gently poke her arm. She only huffed and moved her seat further away.

“Okay, alright, fine! I get it…” JJ trailed off, and Kiara couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief. But she spoke to soon. She heard the scrape of a chair and suddenly she could feel the warmth of JJ right beside her, their elbows just touching.

“Is there an issue, Mr Maybank?” She heard Mr Marino call out but the boy next to her just shook his head, that mischievous glint shining in his eyes.

“No, please carry on, Alan.” The blond replied, his fingers tapping against the worktop counter.

Kiara sighed. She knew very well that she could put her hand up and complain, or even ask Mr Marino to change seats after class ended. But she was stubborn, and she would be damned if she gave JJ that satisfaction of knowing that he got under her skin.

This was going to be a long year.

**********

“She called me JB! That basically takes three years off my plan!”

“Dude, I don’t know if this is really sad or creepy now…” JJ grimaced. He had spent the last fifteen minutes listening to John B and his ‘coincidental’ encounter with Sarah Cameron. And if he was being honest, he was concerned for his friend. And his stomach…this boy needed to let JJ eat his lunch before he had to hear one more comment about how ‘yellow is totally her colour’.

“I mean, it just compliments her complexion so well! C’mon, how many people do you know that can pull of yellow and not looked totally washed out!” John B argued. But JJ just met him with a blank stare.

“When the fuck did you become a fashion expert?” JJ spoke up, his nose scrunched in confusion.

“I took a class once.”

JJ looked at him with his mouth agape. “Who the fuck are you?”

“Piss off, I wanted to learn how to dress better.”

“Says the guy that wears horrible thrifted Hawaiian shirts.” JJ deadpanned. John B only rolled his eyes and turned his attention back onto Sarah.

JJ followed his line of sight towards Sarah Cameron and her group, and he was shocked at the sight. He noticed the usual people in their uptown outfits and obnoxious laughs he could unfortunately hear from his seat. But it was the sight of his chemistry partner looking quite cosy under Rafe’s arm that caught him off-guard. His eyebrows furrowed a little, but hey, JJ should have seen this coming. The uptown kids like to stick with each other. Yet, JJ couldn’t help but find the sight quite uncomfortable to look at—Rafe had that effect on people. It was a surprise he managed to score…JJ paused. He had spent a whole hour with her and yet, he didn’t even know her name.

He nudged John B, yet neither one of them looked away from the group. “Hey JB, who’s Sarah’s new chick?”

“Who?”

“The pretty curly haired one standing next to her, dumbass.”

“Oh…I don’t actually know—“

“—Kiara Carrera. Relocated here from Kernersville, North Carolina. Her father owns a large chain of restaurants around the country. She is also the only junior other than yours truly doing three AP classes, including environmental science, biology and English.” Pope finished, panting a little considering he had literally just ran into the cafeteria and heard the last few words of their conversation.

JJ looked up at Pope with a mix of awe and fear. “What, you forgot her national insurance number as well? How the fuck do you know all that?”

“The school files.” Pope answered easily as he turned his laptop around and with the screen facing them, JJ decided he was definitely a little scared of Pope.

“Those are meant to be locked away in some super, secret network thing!” JJ hissed, only to be met with a smirking Pope.

“As if, it’s easy as fuck to hack something as amateur as the school’s firewall. Could do it with my eyes closed.” He grinned at the two of them. “Why, JJ? Hiding something from us like…I don’t know…your middle name being Belinda.” He snickered.

“YOUR NAME IS BELINDA?!” John B gasped, looking at JJ with wide eyes.

“Shut up, would you!” JJ hissed at the both of them, leaning over the table to flick John B on the forehead. “I was named after my grandmother.”

“Aww, Grammie Belinda.” John B cooed. JJ only glared at him.

“Hey, Grammie Belinda was a saint, don’t disrespect her like that.” JJ huffed, pointing a finger towards John B. He then turned to Pope who had made himself comfortable in the seat next to him.

“Why were you asking about Kiara?” Pope asked JJ, snatching a few chips from his plate. JJ swatted his hand away but didn’t stop Pope from doing it again. “Does JJ have a little crush?” He teased, pouting a little.

“Piss off,” JJ laughed as he nudged Pope with his shoulder. “She’s just my chemistry partner.”

“Ooh, so you guys have chemistry together?” John B grinned, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Fuck off, JB. Go back to stalking your little uptown princess.” JJ commented, returning the grin as both friends shook their head. They both knew the other meant no harm.

“Well, if you two little lovebirds are done having your moment,” Pope piped up, both boys looking over at him. “I need you to meet me on your rooftop at nine sharp tonight.”

“Damn, Pope, finally taking me out?”

“You wish, Spider-Boy,” He grinned, but the look he was giving made JJ a little nervous for what Pope had hidden up his sleeve. It could honestly range from a pet raccoon he befriended to creating some weird Frankenstein bug. “Just be there.”

John B pouted. “What about me?! Is this where I become the third-wheel?”

**********

“Mama?”

“In here!”

JJ dropped his bag by the couch as he made his way to the kitchen, the soft sound of the click telling him the door shut behind him. He sniffed the air as he walked in, seeing his mum at the stove and grinned a little, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

“What’s for dinner?” He asked, peeking over her shoulder.

“Spaghetti,” She hummed, a soft smile on her lips as she peeked a glance at her son. “How was school?”

“The usual,” He answered with a shrug as he made his way to the fridge, grabbing a bottle of water before heading towards his usual spot on the counter. “Teachers still don’t appreciate my comments, Pope said smart things I didn’t understand and JB was a love-sick puppy.”

She grinned, shaking her head a little. “I find John B’s attempts to woo that girl quite admirable actually,” She commented. “It wouldn’t kill you to be a hopeless romantic every once in a while.” Yet, she only laughed when she saw JJ’s face scrunch up in disgust.

Despite JJ’s reputation for being an adrenaline junkie who loves to live life on the edge, these were actually his favourite moments. The little moments he shared with his mum, just the two of them. It is one of the few moments in his life where he feels relaxed, no expectations or pressures. And as sappy as it sounded—and no offence to John B and Pope—but JJ wasn’t ashamed to admit that she was one of his best friends, one of the few people in his life he truly cared about. People like her are the reason he enjoys being Spider-Man, because despite the shit people in the world, there were some genuinely good people out there, like Georgia Maybank.

It was hard to believe JJ and Georgia Maybank were related. She was a sweetheart, the type of woman who would take time out of her own life to volunteer at local food shelters despite having just done a twelve-hour shift at the hospital. She is the type of woman to buy flowers and hand them to strangers on the street just to brighten someone’s day. She is the type of woman who would work her ass off to give her son all that she could, despite the struggles she faced with the bills and rent because her son was her life. She was the opposite of JJ’s hyperactive self.

But boy, did they look very similar. From the sandy blonde hair the two of them shared, to the bright blue eyes, to even the exact same smile. JJ really was a carbon copy of his mother. And there was a small part of her, one she would never outwardly admit, that adored the fact JJ looked so much like her. Like a primal mother instinct, she loved her son and she loved that everyone knew he was her son. She would be damned if someone ever asked her to hide that.

Georgia was the type of mother that had that warm aura around her, the one that made you just trust her with your life. The hugs she gives just makes you want to stay in her arms forever, because everything is just better with Georgia Maybank. JJ knew that and he always reminded himself of that. No matter what shit he gets into, no matter how much he may envy the uptown kids—none of them will ever have Georgia Maybank and he would gladly flaunt that.

He may not have designer clothes or a fancy car to drive to school. But they don’t have Georgia Maybank, dancing around barefoot in the kitchen while she badly sings along to some old 80s song that is playing on the radio, just to make him crack a smile.

JJ grinned as his mother grabbed his hand, pulling off the counter before they jokingly began to waltz around the small kitchen, some classical song playing from the small radio that sat on the counter by the stove. JJ only laughed as he apologized for stepping on her toes again, but she didn’t mind. She just smiled and continued to dance.

“Why do I have to do this? I’m starving, woman!” He whined playfully as he twirled his mum around a few times.

“Because, JJ, one day you’re going to have a beautiful girl—or boy, I won’t assume—that will somehow fall for that charm of yours,” She spoke softly, placing a hand on her son’s cheek, a proud glint in her eyes when he rolled his eyes at her statement but still had a small smile on his face. “And I will be damned if I don’t teach my son how to sweep a girl off her feet.”

“Nothing says romantic like stepping on a girl’s toes.” He stated bluntly.

Georgia only laughed and ruffled his hair before she turned back to the stove. She grabbed two plates, putting in a larger portion for JJ—which with his new transformation wouldn’t actually be enough but he will sneak out during the night to eat the leftovers when she’s asleep—before placing them on the small dining table in the corner, gesturing for him to join her.

The rest of the dinner was fairly uneventful, simply just JJ telling her about John B’s updated seven-year plan with Sarah Cameron and Georgia sharing any particularly interesting stories about patients she had to deal with during her shift. JJ really let this dinner sink in. As much as he loved his mother, her inability to say ‘no’ and be so giving kind of bothered him. Because she had taken up extra shifts for a few of her colleagues due to something about the ‘stress of wedding planning’. JJ had been seeing her less and less—and though it was good for his recent Spider-Man shenanigans—this dinner made him realise just how much he missed her. Just a nice, wee dinner with his mum, nothing else. And everything seemed to be going well, until he heard the radio presenter’s voice flowing through the kitchen.

“Locals say that Spider-Man is the next best thing to happen to New York since deep-fried pizza! But I don’t know, Janet. I mean, who is this kid? Where did he come from? There just seems to be a lot of unanswered questions with this so-called hero. Can we really trust some prepubescent boy who probably spends his day with his head in a textbook? It just doesn’t seem—“

The radio presenter was cut off by Georgia turning the volume down. “People can’t appreciate a good gesture anymore.” She huffed. JJ watched her closely as she finished off washing the last of the dishes before turning to face him, a small frown on her lips.

“I think he’s doing the city a favour.” JJ said half-heartedly with a shrug.

Georgia nodded, her fingers gently fiddling with chain around her neck, well more specifically the gold ring attached to it. “I know but,” She sighed. “What a shame, putting all this pressure on a poor teenage boy. Oh, I feel bad for his parents!”

JJ coughed a little. “It could be his decision, you know.”

Georgia continued as though she hadn’t heard him. “I could only imagine how stressful it would be have your son out there, throwing himself at danger.” She shook her head as she made her way to where JJ still sat at the dining table. “Promise me you wouldn’t do something so careless?” She asked sweetly, gently cupping his face in her hands as she looked down at him.

Now, JJ knew there was a teasing tone to her words. She wasn’t being serious because, how could she? Her son being a superhero with crazy powers? Not possible. She and JJ shared everything and it was because of that he couldn’t help but feel a wave of guilt wash over him. He hated lying to his mum, he hated keeping secrets from her. They were always close, JJ never felt the need to hide things from her. There was always such a comfortable vibe between them. But he knew how she would react if he told her the truth. He knew she would freak out and make him stop. And JJ didn’t want to stop. As much as he hated the guilt that bubbled inside him, he pushed it away and gave her a grin.

“Of course not, I would come up with a better name than Spider-Man.” He joked lightly and closed his eyes when he felt his mum press a kiss to his forehead. He nuzzled his head slightly as he wrapped his arms around her, resting his head against her stomach. He smiled softly when he felt her hands running through his hair, just like the way she used to do when he was younger and struggling to fall asleep. He tried to hold back a yawn.

“That’s my baby boy.” She said with a gentle laugh.

“Mama, I’m a not a baby! I’m a man now.” He whined but he didn’t pull away from her grip just yet. He missed his mum’s hugs, sue him.

“You’ll always be my baby boy.” She commented with a small shrug.

“Yeah, yeah,” He murmured. After a few moments of silence, he looked up at her, giving the best puppy-dog eyes he could. She was always a sucker for those. “Can I go hang out with JB and Pope tonight?” He asked with a sweet smile.

She rolled her eyes but nodded. “Just be back before your father gets home.”

**********

JJ rubbed his hands together as he stared at the view from the roof. New York looked absolutely stunning this time of year, especially at night. The sky was pitch black, and it should’ve seemed daunting. But the bright lights of the city illuminated everything. It was mesmerising, a sight that JJ would never get tired of seeing. And with his newly discovered powers, he found something therapeutic about swinging around the city and being surrounded those bright lights. It felt like he was swinging through the stars—he obviously didn’t share that with the boys, they would take the piss out of him. Speaking of which…

“Where the fuck is he?” JJ hissed, turning to look at John B who only shrugged in response. As much as JJ liked New York at night, it was cold. The lower body temperature caused by the spider bite really didn’t help the situation. He had a hoodie and a jacket on and still the light breeze was making his teeth chatter.

“I don’t know.” John B shrugged. JJ rolled his eyes in annoyance. It was 9:15pm and JJ was about five minutes away from freezing to death.

Just then, the rooftop door opened and a wild Pope was sprinting towards then, panting heavily as he ripped his backpack off and quickly unzipped it. Words were leaving his lips but between the panting, neither of them could work out what he was saying.

“Dude, calm down, breathe!” John B exclaimed. Pope nodded and took a minute to catch himself.

“Your lives are gonna change forever!” He grinned before looking at JJ. “Strip.”

JJ raised his eyebrows. “What?”

“Strip.”

“Dude, it’s like fifty fucking degrees, I am not gonna fucking strip!”

“Stop whining and do it!”

JJ huffed and started to take his clothes off, muttering some very…colourful phrases towards Pope. However, he didn’t get much time to question his friend’s demands because the second he was stripped down to his boxers, he had a bunch of fabric thrown at him.

“Wait…is this…?” He trailed off, looking at Pope with a new look of excitement shining in his eyes.

“You bet,” Pope grinned. “Say hello to your brand-new suit, Spider-Man.”

JJ excitedly began to pull the suit on, suddenly forgetting all about his theatrics with the cold. But Pope wasn’t done with his surprise.

“The suit is a total upgrade!” He began, his hands moving wildly as he spoke. “The fabric is strong but flexible. I have added small web-shooters to go over your spinneret glands so you can have a more direct shots. There are a few extra things I’ve added like a small heater to keep you warm and a few sensors, so we can keep track of your vitals. Oh, and for us—” He paused before handing John B a silver bracelet.

John B looked at the bracelet in confusion. “Uh, thanks?”

Pope only grinned and showed John B that he was wearing a similar bracelet. He slipped it off before unclipping a small oval shaped device from the middle of the bracelet. “This is the coolest part,” He nodded for John B to copy his movements. “To be honest, these took the longest. I had JJ’s suit done like two weeks ago but—”

“And you made me wait this long? Dude, I looked like a weirdo running around in joggers!” JJ groaned, but there was no real hostility in his voice.

“Just put on your mask, dude!”

JJ rolled his eyes but didn’t answer as he slipped the mask over his face. He was a bit surprised at how easily he could see through it, way better than the goggles he had before. The suit was a perfect fit—props to Pope after it took an hour to get all of JJ’s measurements. The material was tight and breathable, practically clinging onto JJ like a second skin. Oddly enough, he felt far more comfortable in it than his last costume. Pope clearly liked the colour scheme, having kept the red and blue palette but with a massive spider on his chest, with lines wrapping around him to look like a web. He looked totally badass, he felt badass. He felt like a proper hero from one of those comic books and posters Pope has around his room.

“So, how do I look?” JJ asked, flexing as he gave the boys a little spin. Pope only grinned, proud of his creation. John B gasped, clearly just as hyped as JJ was.

“Dude, your ass looks great.” John B commented, causing JJ to snort.

“When does it not look great?”

“Guys! The last surprise!” Pope piped up, causing both boys to stop staring at JJ’s ass and instead turn to him.

“These little guys,” He said, nodding between the small oval devices in his and John B’s hands. “Are gonna help us keep in contact with you while you’re swinging around. Little ear pieces so we can help you out and keep tabs on you if you need any help.”

“Where’s my bracelet?” JJ frowned beneath the mask.

“You don’t need one, dumbass. Your ear piece is connected into your mask!” Pope grinned proudly. JJ let out a scoff, shaking his head.

“Pope, you fucking genius!” He yelled, and he pulled his friend into a tight hug. John B, feeling a little left out, quickly joined the hug.

“This is so cool, dude, now we are like an actual team!” John B grinned.

Pope was the first to pull back, looking at JJ with a wild look in his eyes. “I think it’s time for Spider-Man to show the city his new look.”

JJ grinned under the mask, already beginning to take a few steps back. “I think you’re right.” And without a second thought, he left himself fall off the edge of the building.

On that October night, New York watched their own hero swing through the streets, letting the cheers and whoops of the strangers sink in. They watched their hero in a new light, a more professional one. The next day, he was no longer that kid running around like some wannabe. He was Spider-Man, the new saviour of New York and a beloved hero.

It was wild what a good new suit could do for your reputation.

**********

“Did you see the pictures The Daily Bugle released?”

“He looked so hot!”

“I’d let him save me any day!”

“You don’t even know what he looks like…”

“So? Have you seen those arms? Nothing else matters!”

JJ couldn’t help but let the smirk on his face grow as he walked through the corridors of the school. It was the day after his new suit reveal and he wasn’t going to lie, he was soaking in all the attention. He was particularly enjoying the twitter thread that was made about his ass. John B didn’t lie, his ass did look good in this new suit.

He continued his way through the sea of students before he made it to his chemistry class, not surprised that people were still talking about Spider-Man. His eyes instantly glanced over at Kiara, who was sitting at their workbench scrolling through her phone.

He grinned as he quickly past the other students and sat quite comfortably in his seat. His eyebrows raised slightly when she didn’t react at first to his appearance. His curiosity got the best of him as he leaned towards her, peeking over her shoulder to see what she was looking at. Now, JJ won’t lie to you, but when he saw her staring at pictures of Spider-Man, his ego definitely inflated a little. Okay, maybe more than a little but you get the point.

“You a fan?” He couldn’t help but ask, trying to keep his smirk to himself.

Kiara quickly snapped her head to look at him, slamming her phone down screen first onto the desk. “Can you mind your business?” She huffed, trying to calm her heartbeat a little. She didn’t even hear him come in, which is odd since usually you could hear JJ from a mile away.

“Aw, c’mon, Kiara! I thought we were besties now.” He grinned to her, wiggling his eyebrows a little. He leaned forward on the desk, bringing him a little closer to her. His forearms were pressed against the desk, his body leaning on them. She noticed how close their hands were. But after yesterday, she refused to left JJ get under her skin again. Or at least let him see how much he is bothering her. So, she stayed where she was, not moving back like he expected.

“You know my name.” It wasn’t a question, more a statement.

“Surprised?” He whispered, smirking a little when he noticed he wasn’t moving away. JJ risked it a little more and moved a bit closer.

“Took you long enough.” She replied with a shrug. JJ’s grin only widened.

“Oh yeah, counting down the days, princess?” He raised an eyebrow. He noticed her lips quirk a little, like she was fighting back a smile.

“You wish, pretty boy.”

“You think I’m pretty?”

“Shut up.”

“I think someone has a little crush, Kiara.” He grinned at her, only to witness her roll her eyes and push him away.

“In your dreams, Maybank.”

“Oh, you’re definitely in my dreams, Kiara.”

She rolled her eyes again but didn’t bother replying this time. She instead focused her gaze on the front of the class as Mr Marino entered the room, beginning the lesson. But if she had glanced over to the blond sitting on his right, she would’ve seen he was smiling throughout the whole lesson.

**********

“Thank you, dear!”

JJ nodded his head a little in acknowledgement and gave the older woman a small salute. “Always here to help, ma’am.” He said, handing her the small handbag that he had just rescued from the hands of some man who had tried to steal it from her.

“Aw, you’re really starting to win over the senior citizens.”

JJ rolled his eyes when he heard Pope’s voice through his earpiece. “Dude, I think she pinched my ass.”

“Lucky you, older woman, that’s hot.”

“JB, shut up.”

JJ snorted a little at the bickering, extending his arm out before he was swinging between the buildings with no trouble. He had been using any free time he had lately to be out in his suit, getting used to all the cool, extra bits that Pope had added. And he won’t lie, the boy really outdid himself. JJ felt like a total badass, being able to swing around and save people and feel like a real hero. He also enjoyed the change in attitude people had with him. He was Spider-Man, the city hero. He was appreciated. He was wanted. Not something JJ felt very often.

“Anything happening around town?” JJ asked, his eyes scanning the streets below, waiting to see any conflict. He couldn’t help but feel as though there was a part of him that was on edge. He couldn’t really explain it, it was like a bad shiver down his spine. It was a similar feeling he felt before that bank robbery fiasco a few weeks ago. It was a nasty wee feeling, one that had him on alert. Something was wrong, he didn’t know what. But he could sense it.

“Nah, everything seems to be fine. Maybe you should take a break, you’ve been swinging around for, like, three hours. You need to rest, dude.”

“What?” JJ muttered, so quiet that the boys on the other side barely heard him. That couldn’t be right, he can feel it. Something isn’t right, something bad is going to happen. “Guys, are you—”

He was cut off by a series of screams.

JJ’s body was reacting way before his brain did, like his hero side just leaped into action at the alert of any distress. He was swinging as fast as he could, his arms burning a little as he got closer and closer to the sound of those screams. He could hear his blood pumping in his ears, could feel his heart rate pick up. The adrenaline coursing through him, making him forget about the burning in his muscles from the three hours of patrolling he had done.

“That’s fucking weird, there is no police reports coming through.”

JJ ignored the voices coming through the earpiece, his whole body feeling rigid as he crouched on top of a building, looking at the carnage below. There, in the middle of the square stood what looked like a moving black cloud. Civilians were screaming and running away, but the black cloud just remained. His eyes narrowed slightly, like he was waiting for it to do something, to lash out. But it didn’t. He opened his mouth, ready to ask Pope if he was just imagining something when he heard the black cloud speak.

“Spider-Man, oh Spider-Man! Come out, come out wherever you are!” It spoke in a raspy, demonic voice. Whatever this way, it wasn’t human. JJ may have failed biology, but he knew that for sure.

“JJ, don’t. We are have no idea what this thing is. It could be a trap—”

“I got this, Pope.” JJ muttered, ignoring his friends’ pleas to think this through as he swung down, landing a couple of feet away from the black cloud. “You called?”

Suddenly, in the middle of the cloud, JJ swore he could see lips begin to materialise. He frowned beneath the mask but didn’t move away. His fist was clenched at the side, ready to react if the cloud tried anything.

“Ah, we finally meet, Spider-Man.” The cloud spoke again. The voice sent shivers down his spine. JJ pushed away that feeling of discomfort. Something about the cloud felt familiar, but he couldn’t tell what. It was like an annoying itch he couldn’t reach.

“Am I supposed to know who you are?” JJ questioned. “Look, dude, if you’re a fan, I appreciate it, but you don’t need to scare away a whole block of people to get my attention. You can just ask for an autograph like everyone else.”

“JJ stop provoking it!”

“You’ll know me soon enough.” The voice replied ambiguously. JJ furrowed his eyebrows together. Whatever this cloud was, it was being far too vague for JJ’s liking.

“PEOPLE OF NEW YORK, I SPEAK OUT TO YOU!”

JJ winced, clutching his ears. His body was on high-alert, his ears sensitive to pick out any small noise or rustle. He looked at the cloud and then at his surroundings, noticing how every screen—every phone, every billboard, every electrical compliance in this vicinity that he could see—was projecting the black cloud. It was broadcasting to the whole city. JJ couldn’t help but wonder where the fuck the hidden camera was. How was it doing this?

“YOU LABEL THIS KID AS YOUR HERO! YOU TRUST THIS CHILD WITH YOUR LIVES! YOU ARE FOOLISH!” The voice boomed, suddenly the black cloud began to form tentacles that were slithering from whatever was at the centre of it. “LET ME SHOW YOU THE TRUTH! LET ME SHOW YOU WHO YOU HAVE TO PROTECT YOU!”

JJ was a little too distracted by the concept of a cloud broadcasting to the city that he didn’t even notice one of the tentacles slithering towards him. It wrapped itself around his leg before swinging him into the nearest building.

JJ let out a small oomph as his body made contact with the brick wall. He could hear yelling in the distance, the sounds of people screaming. But nothing was overpowering the ringing in his ears as he slowly dragged himself to stand up.

“JJ, GET UP! JJ!”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” He muttered, blinking a few times before he turned back to look at the cloud. He felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise and quickly rolled over to the side, the tentacle that threw him smashing into the wall not even a second later. That rush of adrenaline hitting JJ again as he quickly swung out of there, not even looking behind him until he knew he was a good distance away to assess the situation.

“IS THIS WHO YOU WANT PROTECTING YOU? A COWARDLY TEENAGER? C’MON, SPIDER-MAN! LET’S SEE WHAT YOU’VE GOT!”

JJ swore under his breath, trying to catch up with his thoughts as he watched more tentacles appear from the cloud. “Where the fuck are they coming from?” He muttered before swinging down to a lower building rooftop, crouching at the edge. He narrowed his eyes as he extended his hand out, shooting a web towards the centre of the cloud. There had to be something solid within this thing, something he can grip on to, something he can fight. But he was met with nothing. “Fuck.” He frowned before he began to crawl down the side of the building.

“You seem a bit jealous, mate!” JJ called out, watching as all eight of the tentacles seemed to snap their attention towards him. God, that was scary. “Don’t you have to tell me some wild origin story before you kill me?”

“MY AIM ISN’T TO KILL YOU, SPIDER-MAN. NOT YET!”

“Oh, that’s really reassuring, thank you so much.”

“I WANT NEW YORK TO SEE HOW PATHETIC YOU ARE. HOW USELESS THEIR SAVIOUR IS.”

“A bit of an odd wish, if you ask me.” He murmured to himself, quickly snapping his wrist before swinging around the black cloud. He watched as the tentacles reached out for him, just grazing him as he swung between the buildings.

“JJ, FIGHT BACK!”

“How the fuck do I fight something that isn’t solid? Get a vacuum? If you have one big enough, please do share. Call the ghostbusters or something!”

He heard more screams, some closer than he expected. He assumed everyone ran off, but when he turned his head to the side, he noticed a man standing there, frozen in fear. More importantly, he saw a car heading straight towards the scared man.

“Shit, shit, shit,” JJ yelled as he quickly yanked his web, spinning around and landing in front of the man, his hands extended out in front of him. Seconds later he felt the impact of the car, the weight and momentum it came crashing in at hit him strong enough to make him slide back a few feet. “Go, dude!” He yelled at the man, who had finally come to his senses and thanked JJ profusely before sprinting away. JJ groaned and threw the car away from him, huffing slightly.

“HOLY SHIT, JJ! THAT WAS A CAR!”

“Oh, no shit, Sherlock! I thought it was Barbie’s Dreamhouse.” Only JJ would be sarcastic while his life is in threat.

But it was that sarcasm that distracted him long enough for one of the tentacles wrap around his ankle, yanking him down from the small jump he had taken so the web he was currently gripping snapped with ease, preventing him a quick escape like he planned. He didn’t even have time to scream before he noticed the tentacle bringing him closer to the middle of the cloud, his eyes widening slightly.

He wiggled around in the tentacle’s grip, trying to find a way out but it was relentless. He wasn’t sure what was real or not, not sure if he imagined screaming in his head or if he actually did as he was dropped into the centre of the cloud.

Then, he felt nothing.

JJ was vaguely aware of his surroundings. He didn’t know if his eyes were open or not, but it was dark. He tried to move his arm, but it felt constricted, like he was swimming in something really thick. His brain was screaming at him to call out for Pope and John B, to move his hands and swing out of here, to do something. But another part of JJ felt completely content in this situation. He couldn’t explain it, but something washed over him, like a massive electric shock that made him aware of just how…familiar this seemed. It was similar to the feeling he had earlier.

He felt safe, understood.

And then that feeling was gone.

Suddenly, JJ found himself being thrown around in circles, something holding a tight grip on his ankle. But soon enough, that let go too and JJ was soon flying through the air, too out of it to even react fast enough to web onto something or soften his eventual crash.

JJ felt the air be completely knocked out of him, his body bouncing off the concrete a couple of times before he rolled over. It took him a few attempts to finally open his eyes, take in his surroundings, to see he was in some dingy alleyway. He turned his head to the side, briefly seeing a black blob in the distance. He could hear some muffled yelling.

“HEED THIS AS A WARNING, SPIDER-MAN. NEXT TIME WE MEET, IT WILL BE OUR LAST!”

JJ vaguely furrowed his eyebrows together before turning his head to stare at the blue sky above instead. When the ringing and the muffling was over, he could hear the screams of his friends coming through the earpiece.

“JJ! JJ, PLEASE FUCKING ANSWER, DUDE!”

“JJ, ARE YOU DEAD?!”

“WHY WOULD HE FUCKING ANSWER IF HE WAS DEAD!”

“SHUT UP, I’M FLUSTERED!”

JJ frowned a little, his whole throat felt dry and numb. There was also a metallic taste in his mouth that told him he must’ve bitten his tongue at some point. God, he hated the taste of blood. “It…It felt…”

“OH MY GOD, JJ!”

“IT FELT LIKE WHAT BUD? YOU GOOD?”

“It felt just like me.” He finally got out.

Then everything went black.

[leonawriter]

To Change A Sombre Morrow (chapter ten)

Read it on AO3

Fandom: Final Fantasy VII

Characters: Genesis, Sephiroth, Angeal, others.

Summary: Various people get to play the asshole. Some more intentionally than others. Genesis is vaguely ignorant - and unaware - and is starting to realise as much.

...

Genesis' mind turns into white static at the sudden addition of a familiar long blade unexpectedly appearing to clash against his own in the middle of his training.

His body responded automatically, patterns coming back by reflex while his mind is still struggling to catch up - not even Jenova cells at their strongest could recover that fast from a flash of fire to the face, a kick to the stomach area, his sword brought around to-

Nothing.

Adrenaline buzzes in his ears, a warning that something is wrong. The feeling that any moment now, there will be black feathers and silver hair. The conflict between the need to bring out his own wing for the ability to fly and to utilise the advanced combat capabilities it gave him and the agitated feeling that he was forgetting something, with how the wind didn't sting and the dust didn't dry his eyes or burn his skin-

There's a slight breeze as he turns around, only to see Sephiroth regarding him quite calmly from several feet away. Masamune is still drawn, but not attack-ready. He tilts his head, and the slight wind picks up his hair, obscuring his face even further. 

A Behemoth lay, sliced apart and completely motionless, on the ground between them, before disintegrating into pixels. The landscape stayed the same, although now that he was reminded that it was merely a digital representation of the Midgar wastes, a lot of things made much more sense.

"So. It seems your reaction to my presence wasn't merely a one off occurrence. I had wondered."

"If you wanted to spar, you could have just asked," Genesis bit back, nerves still on edge.

"That," Sephiroth said deliberately, "would have defeated the point entirely. And besides," he added, matter of fact, "you've been avoiding me again." 

Genesis' mouth opened to retort that no, he had not, but his hand tightened around Rapier's hilt. Remembered how his regained memories that had given him the unwanted gift of nightmares had left him unsure of how to handle his interactions for a time. He looked away, grimacing as he realised that they had noticed.

Avoidance hadn't been an issue in the past. His issues hadn't been the kind he'd felt the need to avoid people over, and in the few cases where they had been, it had been easy enough just to not bring up the problem, pretend it didn't exist. 

Being a deserter and fugitive had meant that the only times people had wanted to find him were when they wanted to hunt him down - and not usually to have a friendly discussion. As though he would have encouraged that sort of idea in the first place, at the time.

Waking up to a world post-Meteor had meant that he had been left to himself for the most part again. It was taken as a given that if you'd been part of SOLDIER, if anyone had worked for Shinra, then you'd need time to sort your head out.

Here and now... there was none of that. It seemed that he would constantly be discovering new ways in which his temporal displacement made life harder for him.

"...Honestly, I can't imagine what could have happened to you, to cause my presence to be that distressing." Sephiroth sounded... disturbed. Frustrated. Of course you wouldn't, was Genesis' immediate reaction, but that wouldn't do anything for either of them. "But if that is the case, then I will... remove myself."

Genesis closed his eyes, unsure who or what the surge of disgust and hatred brought about by those words was caused by or aimed at, as Sephiroth straightened, suddenly cold - no, withdrawn, that's what Cloud looks like whenever he's in one of his moods - and walked past him, dismissing his sword and terminating the program as he went, so that the environment around them dissolved into digital data as it turned back into the training room.

This is what I'm good at, isn't it? I push people away, and then I wonder why none of us can handle the pressure. Cloud's group had never been like this. Cloud's group had stuck together for as long as he'd known them. And before they'd been Cloud's group, Zack had done the same. I wonder if that's why all of this happened in the first place. 

They would probably know what to do, he thought bitterly. But the Goddess sent me.

"My friend, your desire is the giver of life, the Gift of the Goddess..."

Sephiroth paused, at the door.

"LOVELESS, again? You've moved to Act Three," he said, the words halting rather than the easy ribbing they'd once been.

"What else? But... no. I think we're still in the prologue."

Remembering what he'd said to Vincent, back in Nibelheim. Remembering how he looked at the calendars and found himself flicking through diaries and organisers, irritated at how slowly time passed, how much was still yet to happen, to be changed, to be stopped, and he felt like he had hardly moved, despite everything that he had accomplished.

"What an odd thing to say."

"Well, we still have a long way to go." He turned on his heel, to talk to Sephiroth's back rather than the wall. "I mean what I said before. If you want to spar, ask me. No one likes the ass who pokes at a person's issues just to see how they'll react," he said wryly.

"Oh? It almost sounds like you're speaking from experience."

Even knowing he was probably just referring to something relatively harmless, Genesis still flinched.

"I can't say I'm not fool enough anymore to say that's wrong," he mused, half in answer and half to himself.

Sephiroth huffed, head tilting forward slightly as he made the amused sound, before picking up his feet again and moving out of the training room altogether, but not before Genesis noticed that despite not knowing what he had been doing, some of the tension in Sephiroth's shoulders had loosened.

"Ha..."

Somehow, he didn't think that it could possibly be as simple as that.

...

"If it weren't for how you seem to have become allergic to doctors recently, I'd warn you away from the science department's floors," Angeal started saying the moment Genesis got in through the door of his office. "Actually, I'm still going to warn you to be careful."

He rolled his eyes, swept his hair away from his face, and leaned Rapier up against the wall before sitting heavily into his chair, and reaching for a pen, which he immediately started to tap onto the desk, taking some small pleasure in the fact that he knew it irritated his friend.

"I know that that already. They've been buzzing around like irritable wasps in white coats for a while now." Tap tap tap. He knew why, too, of course. Not that he was going to admit that any time soon. "The more pressing matter is why you're here. Don't you have an overexcitable puppy to be training?"

Angeal's brows raised, making Genesis wonder if he'd said something wrong, or if something had happened. 

"Lazard wanted you to look over these," Angeal said, waving a hand at a pile of files on his desk that he hadn't even noticed until then, "and I figured I'd stay to make sure you actually did."

Genesis flipped open the top file, only to find a nondescript, unfamiliar face staring back at him. A glance at the rest of the page showed him a name, some basic details, and notes from the Instructors that tested the cadets.

He opened up a few others, creating a small pile of chaos on his desk. Once or twice, a name or face stirred faint recollections in the back of his mind - years old, dusty memories - and even rarer, was the one time when he knew he remembered the prospective cadet, but that wasn't necessarily a good thing.

"Lazard seems to have mixed up which department he's running, then. This is SOLDIER, not human resources. Or-" He cut himself off. There was no way that saying that SOLDIER were the human resource would be taken well. 

Angeal rolled his eyes, smiling even though Genesis could tell that there was at least some annoyance in his friend, too.

"That's more or less what Sephiroth said, but at least he's able to get out of it with the excuse that they're sending him back off to the frontlines in the next day or so. And supposedly, according to Lazard at least, they seem to think that if they play things right, the war will be over soon, so they'll be able to be more picky when it comes to new recruits."

Genesis bit back a snort at the poor excuse the science department had come up with; if Shinra had the resources, then they would continue creating SOLDIERs, and if they had the SOLDIERs, then they would create their own wars. The one they'd had with Wutai had been that way.

His amusement bled out at the reminder of how little time he had left.

"And they expect us to be able to tell just by looking at paperwork?" he asked. Typical Shinra.

Not for the first time, he was struck by how strange it was that he was working for them again. 

"Maybe they just didn't want to terrorise the cadets so early into their training."

His hand stilled as his eyes passed over a photo of a cadet with blond hair, but it was too curly, too dark, the face wrong, and when he looked closer, the eyes were still a light brown. Had to remind himself that no, Cloud would not be here yet, because if nothing else Genesis had flown back, and Hojo had probably used a company helicopter to get as close as he could. Cloud, having none of that, would take longer. Far longer.

He had to assume that in the original timeline he'd come from, none of this had happened. He certainly couldn't remember being asked to do such a thing before, no matter how distant or close he'd ever been with any of the cadets. Shinra had vetted the SOLDIER intake on basic merits and a psychological assessment to ensure they'd make it through the mako injections, and any that hadn't made it past that, they didn't hear anything further of, and that didn't always mean they'd just gotten shunted into the infantry. 

Which meant that he might even recognise some of these names and faces, which should in theory give him an edge - in theory, at least.

In practice, all looking at the files was doing for him was piling frustration onto more frustration - the overwhelming realisation that despite having lured at least a good number of these men and women - teenagers still, here, the birth dates couldn't lie unless the candidates had, and the faces looked young sometimes - he hardly remembered who they were. Who they'd been.

He almost let out a shaky laugh, holding his face in the hand that wasn't turning the pages of the files.

I used them. 

He'd known before. He'd had plenty of time to come to terms with the fact, even before Zack had reminded him of what having SOLDIER pride even meant. He'd been reminded, oh so politely, when Deepground had 'requested' his aid, and made him aware of what else had been done with his genetic information.

They thought I cared. Perhaps I had, before. They were wrong. I only cared about myself.

"I worry about you, sometimes."

Genesis tensed, abruptly reminded of Angeal's presence, having become so immersed in himself and his memories that he'd forgotten he wasn't alone. 

"Perhaps you're right to," he muttered under his breath, not looking away from a face that he knew that if he stared at it long enough, he would remember something he wished best left forgotten.

"What was that?"

His eyes finally closed. "When the war of the beast's brings about the world's end, the goddess descends from the sky, wings of light and dark spread afar..."

They're sending us all off to die valiantly for their cause. They think that Sephiroth will continue to be the perfect toy soldier they modelled him into  being, never once thinking that he might become bigger than any of this, or realise that the chains that bind him are as flimsy as cardboard, like I did. 

His pen began to tap again, a smile, not entirely pleasant, playing on his lips.

"Genesis..."

Angeal's tone was worried again, but a different sort of worry. It was almost nostalgic, the way it reminded him of how Angeal always had worried too much when he'd been planning something reckless. It was too bad he wasn't going to be able to share those ideas of his this time around.

 "You're planning something again, aren't you," Angeal carried on. "And you aren't going to tell anyone what you're doing again either, are you?" His friend looked away, and sighed. "When you went off last time, we had no idea where you'd gone until Lazard told us. We had to ask. And when you came back..."

Angeal trailed off. For the first time perhaps, Genesis noticed how tired his friend was. 

...Honestly, I can't imagine what could have happened to you, to cause my presence to be that distressing. But if that is the case, then I will... remove myself.

"Angeal, I..."

He wanted, more than anything in that moment, to explain everything, let the words fall from his mouth like dumbapples over the fences and walls that he seemed to have put up without even having realised that he had been putting down the wood and bricks between them. A peace offering.

He closed his eyes for just one moment, and saw Banora burning in front of him as he watched - an empty town with nothing left to destroy, as the Turks had merely been destroying the evidence of his own crimes.

"Zack's been complaining that he was actually starting to get somewhere with you, you know. Keeps saying you look at him like you can see his potential."

He could almost laugh. 

How could he say that he sometimes had that look in his eye because he had seen their future - a future where Zack had achieved that potential, carried Angeal's Buster Sword, because Angeal was dead?

He could just imagine the arguments, the accusations, the dismissals, the weapons drawn...

Genesis shook his head.

"I'll see what I can do," he said instead. 

His mind wandered toward the date. It was late September, now. He felt like he was lying.

...

He'd left Edge and Midgar behind without having told anyone, not long after regaining his energy, and being able to move around without someone looking like they were going to hold him at sword point simply for stepping out of line.

It's a familiar route, to Banora. He could probably fly there in his sleep, like how a chocobo knew its way home.

The journey had still taken a while, though, but that'd mostly been because he'd made an effort not to fly near too many people, and in the past three years, people had been rebuilding, and creating entirely new towns. It had changed the landscape, and the world had seemed a different place.

He's sure there's a an old children's story along those lines. From before Shinra, but sanitised so that anything the company had been displeased with had been removed - about a man who slept for a hundred years inside a crystal, and who had woken up to find that nothing was familiar, and all his friends were old.

Banora itself, he'd found as he'd approached on the back of a truck, had not changed all that much, though. 

If anything, the Lifestream must have found it easier to burst forth here, coming up through ways that were already open. A few places seemed a little more worn away than before, but in general...

What was new, was the few huts that had sprung up near the orchards, people picking the apples, which had made his fingers twitch for his materia, because some of those were his trees - his, damn it - but he had forced himself to look away, to focus on what he'd come here for.

The caves were colder than he remembered, but the routes hadn't changed. 

Rapier had been right where he'd left it, where it had fallen after his fight with Zack. The once beautiful sword had been caked with dirt, with a few patches of rust in places that had become damp, but none of that had mattered. It was and had been an old friend, a constant he had been glad to see once more.

He could still remember wiping it down briefly before wrapping it up to clean it properly later, and leaving.

"Wha- hey! Be careful in here, these caves can be dangerous!"

He'd laughed, at the voice that had echoed in toward him. It must have been late on the surface, and the sun had always set away from the entrance, but it had never been all that dark inside, and he'd known the way like any child did their own playground. Their home.

"You don't need to worry about me," he'd said, bemused, as he'd come out.

The man, who had been hauling a heavy crate of apples, had turned. Backed away, first one step, then another. 

"You..." Fear had laced the man's voice. His eyes, glowing, were wide. "They said you were dead," he said. "What do you want with us? Shinra's gone!"

"Even if the morrow is barren of promises, nothing shall forestall my return..." He'd shaken his head. "Death and rumours of my demise have hardly held me back before. I fail to see why I should have adhered to them." He'd taken an apple, a single Banora White, while his other hand still held his old sword still in its wrappings. "As for your questions... nothing. I don't want anything from you."

He could still remember the terror in  the eyes of the former SOLDIER even weeks later, when he finally told Cloud, which had been while he was maintaining the sword back to perfect condition after its long disuse.

"I didn't merely recognise him," he'd said, in a light tone as though it wasn't important. As though it was simply some trivial matter, another item on the delivery list. "He served under me during the war. I'm fairly sure the only reason he didn't follow me when I encouraged desertion was something to do with not wanting to disappoint his family - saying that he'd attempt to work on Shinra from the inside."

Cloud hadn't said anything, although by the frown on his face he wasn't entirely unaffected. 

"The next time we saw each other," Genesis had carried on, harsh cracks in the edges of his carefree attitude appearing in both his voice and the more jagged movements he was making while cleaning, "I only saw him as an obstacle in my way. Honestly, he's lucky to be alive."

He'd told himself that was at least one positive in the entire situation. At least if you met the people you'd wronged, they were still alive to meet. You couldn't meet the ghosts you'd left behind.

After a while, he had resigned himself to the fact that he more than likely wasn't going to get any sort of reply. But then, Cloud was hardly the talkative type. Zack had been, would have said something already, but no matter how many of Zack's mannerisms he could see coming to the surface from time, Cloud wasn't Zack.

Then-

"I think... I think I know what you mean," Cloud had said. He'd looked over. Bright blue eyes had looked troubled, the same way that Genesis had started to recognise in any of them when they began to think too much of the past. "When we were fighting Shinra, I... for a long time, I didn't even really know who I was. But then when I did, when I remembered... I realised I'd probably been killing a lot of the people I once fought beside. Some of them... even recognised me. And I still had to keep fighting. It isn't the same, but..."

Understanding.

They were both traitors to their own people, just on different sides of history. One remembered with fear and the other looked up to. 

He'd nodded, and the subject had turned toward lighter subjects the next time anyone spoke.

...

Genesis walks out of Lazard's office and doesn't realise that he has his hand at his shoulder until Angeal asks him if it's giving him grief again. He shakes his head, and shrugs it off, because it hadn't been. 

Old habits were hard to kill, and it's easy to get lost in memories when events play out a little too similarly.

He'd been given his marching orders once again. To Wutai, and Fort Tamblin. He could still remember the way that Lazard had danced around the subject of what he would actually be doing the first time around; the way that they had both treated the briefing almost as a scene in some gaudy theatre production full of intrigue and betrayal.

One of the more dry derivative works of LOVELESS had focused on the politics of the countries at war, and the effect the heroes' actions had on the world. It had been both similar to, and nothing at all like, that.

This time, Lazard had glanced at him aside several times, words prodding lightly at prospective openings. Genesis had made a few pointed remarks, implications, loopholes in supposedly simple things.

Genesis Rhapsodos holds no love for Shinra, he had communicated with everything unsaid and implied. But he is a hero, no matter what manner of monster Shinra has made him, and Goddess help you if you try to make him anything less.

He knew the difference now. At least, wanted to think that.

But now - he brushed the hair from his face to keep his hand from going back to his shoulder, put on a smile, and kept walking.

...

He slips out of the Shinra building as it starts to grow dark, not bothering to change his clothes but walking with that exact sort of confidence that made people question what they were seeing, made them assume that he clearly had business being where he was.

It wasn't hard. It was something he'd had practice in since his childhood, after all, and had even encouraged Angeal to it when his friend had looked panicked enough that he would have been caught if he hadn't calmed down one time; Genesis would have been annoyed if he had been, given how Angeal, despite the difference in status, had been his friend. One of his only friends back then, at that. He'd preferred Angeal out of trouble, if possible.

The theatre he found wasn't in LOVELESS Avenue. Instead, his feet had taken him to somewhere between the slums and the lower class parts of the entertainment district. 

"When the war of the beasts brings about the world's end, the goddess descends from the sky," the man on the stage was saying. Genesis mouthed the words of the introduction to the act along with him - the bare bones of the story, the only thing that anyone could ever agree on, considering how many versions and derivative works there had been even at the time when it had been new. Now, even a slight change in wording could completely alter the tone of a scene.

It wasn't one of the expensive, extravagant productions to be found in one of the more upper class regions. Nor was it one of the philosophical, meaningful productions to be found in Junon, where the university students there used it as their outlet for exploration of the meaning of life.

The sets were shaky. The lines, often far more colloquial than Genesis was used to. Costumes were haphazard.

But the performance, despite everything else, had heart. For that, he could appreciate it, well worth his time far more than the easy viewing that he had been anticipating. A pleasant surprise.

Lost amid his own thoughts - about the play, their interpretation of it, the war, among other things - he knocks into someone on his way to the train that leads back to Sector Eight, and from there, the Shinra Building. He almost wouldn't have noticed if he hadn't heard the cut off cry as they fell.

He watches as she - and he even thinks he recognises her, auburn hair in a braid and light blue clothes - picks herself up again before he could even offer to help, if he had chosen to.

"Oh! I remember you," she said, "From the church, right?" She smiled. "Just passing through again, are you?"

Genesis raised his eyebrows at her. 

"Do you have a habit of remembering everyone who passes through that church?"

"No. Just the-" her face twisted for a moment, as though she were trying to figure out the right words to use. As though she's forgotten her script, said the part of him that was still riding the high of having come out of a halfway decent performance. "Interesting ones," she finished.

"Fascinating," Genesis drawled out. "Unfortunately, I don't have time to ask just how you find me interesting."

"That's all right. I'm sure we'll meet again."

The words followed him all the way back to his rooms in Shinra. She'd probably meant that given how they'd met by chance twice already in spite of Midgar being the sprawling metropolis it was, the probability was high that it would happen again.

A shiver ran down his spine, however, remembering the exact way that something about her had tugged on the edges of his perception - not quite there, but almost, like a word on the tip of his tongue. 

From the church, right?

It was her church. Or at least, we all think of it as hers. It's where Cloud found her...

He shrugged off his coat, and began to lay out his things so that they would be ready for the morning. They wouldn't leave until mid-morning, but it was still better to be prepared for every eventuality.

Some of the stitching was beginning to pull apart on the repair job he'd done when he'd arrived back that day; he would have to fix it again. 

But not tonight.

The goddess is laughing at me, he thought, just as he drifted off. There's something I'm not seeing.