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"We _are_ worried. We _always_ worry. That's part of the job, Peter," Uncle Ben says. He soon adds: "But Jesus! You can pick up the back-end of the car. So at least I don't have to worry about you ever getting _crushed_ by one."
"We _are_ worried. We _always_ worry. That's part of the job, Peter," Uncle Ben says. He soon adds: "But Jesus! You can pick up the back-end of the car. So at least I don't have to worry about you ever getting _crushed_ by one."


Peter smiles, although the smile is hesitant. It gets less so when both his aunt and uncle get up to hug him.
Peter smiles, although the smile is hesitant. It gets easier when both his aunt and uncle get up to hug him.
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Revision as of 00:18, 25 February 2013

Vignette - Peter Tells His Family

Prelude to Smoke and Fire.

Dramatis Personae

Peter, Uncle Ben, Aunt May

In Absentia


23 February, 2013


Peter tells his uncle and aunt that he's a mutant. It goes pretty much how you'd expect.

Location

Peter's House (Queens)


It is evening in the Parker residence. Benjamin Parker is laid back on a wooden board with mounted wheels; his upper torso is currently nestled beneath a 1967 pearl-green VW Bug. A tool-box sits near his hip, with occasional clanks and thumps rattling out from under the automobile as he works.

Peter enters the garage hesitantly -- school-bag slung over his good right arm, wearing a black hoodie, blue-jeans, and a t-shirt with a BATMAN symbol on it. As Benjamin continues, Peter gnaws on his lower lip, thinking.

Benjamin seems to sense the boy's presence: "Got something you want to talk about, son?"

"Yeah," Peter says. "Um, yes, uncle. Can you -- come out from under there?"

"In a minute," Benjamin says. "I almost got this -- just a few more things to tighten up. You can't tell me like this?"

"It's, uh, hard to just... I think I need to show you something," Peter says.

"Well, alright, son. Almost done here -- would you mind passing me the flathead?"

Peter leans forward, reaching into the tool box... and rather than pushing it under the car, he grabs the side of the bug -- with his good hand -- and proceeds to pull, *tilting* it backwards with a low, rumbling creak. It lifts high enough for Uncle Ben -- face and clothes covered in soot -- to now see Peter. He blinks up at the boy owlishly.

Peter hands him the screwdriver.

"Uh," Uncle Ben says, staring at Peter. "...okay, let's -- let's go sit down and have that talk."

A few minutes later and Aunt May, Uncle Ben, and Peter are all sitting at the kitchen table -- the former two staring at Peter with wrinkled, curious brows -- while Peter stares down into a glass of soda silently.

Aunt May starts asking questions first: "So... how long?"

"Three, maybe four months..."

"And --" Aunt May thinks, now, trying to figure out how to phrase this: "--what can you... do?"

"Well, he can sure as hell nearly give a man a heart-attack," Uncle Ben says, but his tone makes it clear this is more good-natured ribbing than anything. He soon adds: "How strong _are_ you?"

"I don't... know. Really strong," Peter says, "and really fast."

"Well, alright then," Uncle Ben says.

Peter looks up to him -- then to Aunt May -- then blinks. "...alright?"

Aunt May shrugs. "We're... concerned, Peter. And curious, too. But -- I guess the only thing we _really_ want to know is why you kept it from us for so long...?"

"I don't--know," Peter admits. "I guess I just thought... you'd be worried."

"We _are_ worried. We _always_ worry. That's part of the job, Peter," Uncle Ben says. He soon adds: "But Jesus! You can pick up the back-end of the car. So at least I don't have to worry about you ever getting _crushed_ by one."

Peter smiles, although the smile is hesitant. It gets easier when both his aunt and uncle get up to hug him.