[ There's a knock on Peter's door at the Invincible. Tentative, almost too quiet to be heard. Beneath the door the shadow of two feet, shuffling a little, on the verge of retreating. ]
[ peter almost doesn't hear the knock. at first, he thinks it's coming from somewhere else — next door, maybe, or the room across the hall, but then he catches sight of the flickering light beneath the door.
christmas isn't quite the same without family and he's been trying to ignore the fact that he'd have missed it back home by a couple of months anyway. he's been trying not to think about the fact that may might have celebrated with mj, or at feast, or—.
(nope.)
he'd given out a few presents — nothing much, but there was only so much they could do here. the closest to a sense of normality and familiarity and community; and when he opens the door whilst he's not surprised to see eleven, not really, he is a little bemused— ]
Shouldn't you be with Steve and Nancy? [ are the first words out of his mouth, punctuated by an almost immediate wine because he didn't mean it how he's sure that sounded. a breath and a quick addition: ] Merry Christmas, El.
[ She shrugs a little, almost dismissive, eyes down. Toe of her shoe scuffing against the floor. She's spending a lot of time with Steve and Nancy. And whenever she can, with her walkie talkie. ]
I guess.
[ She's still looking down. As if the tip of her shoe holds the answer to the mysteries of the universe. She's frowning, impatient with her own uncharacteristic uncertainty. ]
I don't. Know much about Christmas.
[ Slow, deep breath. Her voice goes very quiet. ]
You're supposed to be with family.
[ She holds out a gift then. It's poorly wrapped, large, vaguely rectangular, and gives when touched. Something soft, but not in a box. ]
[ for a moment, peter feels very, very dumb. for a moment, he's not sure if she's saying he's family or if she misses hers and—
he decides it doesn't really matter, not with the way her shoe toes the floor, or the way she studies her foot and the floor. not for the first time either, he thinks about how cruel it is for children to be here, whatever the truth of here may be. he wonders if it would have been better to ignore the holidays entirely — they weren't on earth, they weren't even all human, let alone—.
(but then, eleven had wanted secret santa, hadn't she?)
he glances back towards his room, then back at eleven, and he props the door open with a foot as he squats and takes the present. he squeezes it once, tentatively, eyebrows pulling together into a puzzled, questioning frown. ]
Friends and family. [ he half-admits, half-answers; can't help himself and thinks of the christmases spent with reed and sue and johnny and the kids. family, if not family. ] Not sure if the rest of it's important, [ he adds with a quirk of a smile and he gives the present a slight jiggle. ] It alright if I open this now?
[ She looks up then, eyes wide, hopeful but also with a touch of trepidation. She's not good at gift giving.
She's only done it once before. ]
I opened mine.
[ She doesn't understand many of the words.
Not yet. Learning to not just read the book but understand it...
Eleven knows, intrinsically, that she doesn't have a future. Didn't have one before Beacon, has even less of one, somehow, here.
But it's okay. The book is something to look forward to in this place that is beginning to stretch like the hallways to the small, dark room in which she was alone.
Inside the parcel is what looks, at first, like a thin blanket, just it's a little irregular, a little frayed at the edge. Like someone took a piece of fabric and cut it with scissors, not knowing it'd fray.
A cord has been tied around two of the edges - not fastened with thread or other sophisticated means, just tied around the fabric. ]
It's a cape.
[ An ugly cape that she made herself not knowing how easily it might come apart. ]
I thought... a mask. But I didn't know what animal.
[ Bird and spider are taken. ]
So... I thought. Cape. We can make you a mask. But... you have to be careful. You can be a hero. When you have no powers. But leave hero fighting to me. I can fight.
[ He doesn't need to know they haven't returned, those powers. The important thing is that he understands not to think he should take his cape and run at monsters and die. He can be her hero without trying to be heroic. ]
I read it a couple of years ago. You know, a lot of people just think of maths as numbers, but it can be a lot more than that, and it can help you view the world with more than words. [ peter comments with a slight smile. science, first and foremost, is his thing, but getting her anything to do with science would've been a gross misstep. food would've been easy, simple, but he'd wanted to get her something that meant something to the both of them.
(maybe.)
he thinks betty had told him once that he's pretty good at getting the spirit of a gift, but not necessarily the gift itself, only in a decidedly more betty way. he'd opted to take it as a compliment, at least up until his first christmas with mj, when they were still figuring out who and what they were to each other — after gwen, but before everything else — mj had said they should make each other mixtapes. peter hadn't know where to begin: music wasn't really his thing, and she'd said it should be something important, so he'd recorded the audio from half a talk on magnetic fields.
he straightens back up and nudges the door open a little more with an elbow — he thinks it'll be a little weird to open the present and leave her in the hallway. the room looks lived in, in the way that a space that's been occupied for six months would be, but there's not a whole lot there that's personal — a couple of chairs, a few books that identify themselves as belonging to peter by virtue of topic; some paper in a loose, vague pile on the top of a desk, a couple of pens, a baseball bat newly gifted to him by way of secret santa.
he starts to unwrap it as he moves back inside; it's a cape, she says, and he's not entirely sure, at first, if he'd have been able to put two and two together without eleven elaborating. as he pulls it out, it's a little more obvious. surprise gives way to a laugh; there's a slight twinge of guilt at the fact that he she knows both him and spider-man, but not that they're one and the same. ]
Thank you, El. [ a breath of a pause, and he wraps the cape round himself— ] Like this? [ beat. ] And am I supposed to have a hero name, or is it just for looks?
[ She waltzes up to him, shaking her head slightly, and helps adjust the cape. The adjustment makes absolutely no difference in how it sits on him, but it's important to her, so it gets done. ]
Like this. It fits.
[ How she could possibly determine that is anyone's guess. ]
Yes. You need a secret idea.
[ Identity. Close. ]
So, a hero name. It's not allowed to have Doctor in it. Or be about science.
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savingthrows) wrote2019-07-31 01:14 am
Later on the same day
no subject
christmas isn't quite the same without family and he's been trying to ignore the fact that he'd have missed it back home by a couple of months anyway. he's been trying not to think about the fact that may might have celebrated with mj, or at feast, or—.
(nope.)
he'd given out a few presents — nothing much, but there was only so much they could do here. the closest to a sense of normality and familiarity and community; and when he opens the door whilst he's not surprised to see eleven, not really, he is a little bemused— ]
Shouldn't you be with Steve and Nancy? [ are the first words out of his mouth, punctuated by an almost immediate wine because he didn't mean it how he's sure that sounded. a breath and a quick addition: ] Merry Christmas, El.
no subject
I guess.
[ She's still looking down. As if the tip of her shoe holds the answer to the mysteries of the universe. She's frowning, impatient with her own uncharacteristic uncertainty. ]
I don't. Know much about Christmas.
[ Slow, deep breath. Her voice goes very quiet. ]
You're supposed to be with family.
[ She holds out a gift then. It's poorly wrapped, large, vaguely rectangular, and gives when touched. Something soft, but not in a box. ]
no subject
he decides it doesn't really matter, not with the way her shoe toes the floor, or the way she studies her foot and the floor. not for the first time either, he thinks about how cruel it is for children to be here, whatever the truth of here may be. he wonders if it would have been better to ignore the holidays entirely — they weren't on earth, they weren't even all human, let alone—.
(but then, eleven had wanted secret santa, hadn't she?)
he glances back towards his room, then back at eleven, and he props the door open with a foot as he squats and takes the present. he squeezes it once, tentatively, eyebrows pulling together into a puzzled, questioning frown. ]
Friends and family. [ he half-admits, half-answers; can't help himself and thinks of the christmases spent with reed and sue and johnny and the kids. family, if not family. ] Not sure if the rest of it's important, [ he adds with a quirk of a smile and he gives the present a slight jiggle. ] It alright if I open this now?
no subject
[ She looks up then, eyes wide, hopeful but also with a touch of trepidation. She's not good at gift giving.
She's only done it once before. ]
I opened mine.
[ She doesn't understand many of the words.
Not yet. Learning to not just read the book but understand it...
Eleven knows, intrinsically, that she doesn't have a future. Didn't have one before Beacon, has even less of one, somehow, here.
But it's okay. The book is something to look forward to in this place that is beginning to stretch like the hallways to the small, dark room in which she was alone.
Inside the parcel is what looks, at first, like a thin blanket, just it's a little irregular, a little frayed at the edge. Like someone took a piece of fabric and cut it with scissors, not knowing it'd fray.
A cord has been tied around two of the edges - not fastened with thread or other sophisticated means, just tied around the fabric. ]
It's a cape.
[ An ugly cape that she made herself not knowing how easily it might come apart. ]
I thought... a mask. But I didn't know what animal.
[ Bird and spider are taken. ]
So... I thought. Cape. We can make you a mask. But... you have to be careful. You can be a hero. When you have no powers. But leave hero fighting to me. I can fight.
[ He doesn't need to know they haven't returned, those powers. The important thing is that he understands not to think he should take his cape and run at monsters and die. He can be her hero without trying to be heroic. ]
no subject
(maybe.)
he thinks betty had told him once that he's pretty good at getting the spirit of a gift, but not necessarily the gift itself, only in a decidedly more betty way. he'd opted to take it as a compliment, at least up until his first christmas with mj, when they were still figuring out who and what they were to each other — after gwen, but before everything else — mj had said they should make each other mixtapes. peter hadn't know where to begin: music wasn't really his thing, and she'd said it should be something important, so he'd recorded the audio from half a talk on magnetic fields.
he straightens back up and nudges the door open a little more with an elbow — he thinks it'll be a little weird to open the present and leave her in the hallway. the room looks lived in, in the way that a space that's been occupied for six months would be, but there's not a whole lot there that's personal — a couple of chairs, a few books that identify themselves as belonging to peter by virtue of topic; some paper in a loose, vague pile on the top of a desk, a couple of pens, a baseball bat newly gifted to him by way of secret santa.
he starts to unwrap it as he moves back inside; it's a cape, she says, and he's not entirely sure, at first, if he'd have been able to put two and two together without eleven elaborating. as he pulls it out, it's a little more obvious. surprise gives way to a laugh; there's a slight twinge of guilt at the fact that he she knows both him and spider-man, but not that they're one and the same. ]
Thank you, El. [ a breath of a pause, and he wraps the cape round himself— ] Like this? [ beat. ] And am I supposed to have a hero name, or is it just for looks?
no subject
Like this. It fits.
[ How she could possibly determine that is anyone's guess. ]
Yes. You need a secret idea.
[ Identity. Close. ]
So, a hero name. It's not allowed to have Doctor in it. Or be about science.
[ That's a personal rule she just made up. ]