#prcved

    you’d think he’d get used to the universe picking him up and spitting him out into different worlds by now, usually in the middle of some big fight, but it always kind of feels like the first time for finn. at least when he was pulled in to help with the inheritors fiasco he had some semblance of a recruitment. he’s not as lucky this time, though. one second he’s in new york, his new york, the next he’s being dropped into an identical city, except this one has some crazy dude shooting lightning out of his hands and blowing up streetlamps. fun!

    hours ago peter said he was gonna be seeing finn tonight, that harley shouldn’t wait up for him. and to his credit, harley didn’t specifically wait up. he’s got a lot on his plate, tinkering with little projects for the internship, switching between stuff for the actual program and updating the software on his own suit. it’s why iron boy’s not out tonight, and why he’s in their room to see peter come in at three in the morning, a dark bruise blooming across his face.

            ❛ ─ hey kid, how’s... y’know... things? ❜ he asks, in about as smooth fashion as he could muster. hell, he could have said ‘ how’s it feelin’ to not be dusted? ’ but something about that seemed a tad too crass to actually verbalize. really, clint should have just kept MOVING along and not make small talk, it was better that way ( less opportunity for him to say something stupid ). then again, they were all pretty much in the same boat ; friends lost, lives irrevocably changed and such. but at least the big bad had been taken care of... at least there was that.

❛ you know it’s not that easy. ❜ they’ve both got their masks pulled up, legs hung over the side of the building.  peter wonders if it was ever scary, being this high up.  if it was he can’t remember it, can’t imagine it.  he wonders if it’s any different for charlie - if he remembers how hard it was when all this first started.  probably.  he’s younger, closer to when it happened.  peter was fifteen - definitely not anywhere close to an adult - but he remember it being hard to adjust, hard to take on that responsibility.  charlie’s just so goddamn young.  

peter nudges his shoulder a little, hands over the churro that he brought up with him.  good snack, right? ❛ i don’t know what you’re meant to do.  most of the time i don’t even know what i’m meant to do.  but i do know that if you need me, if you need help…i’m right here, charlie.  you can stay with me as long as you need to, as long as you want to.  but if you want to find somewhere else, that’s fine too.  i’ll help you as much as i can.  you’re not on your own, charlie.  not now. ❜ / @prcved

    he takes the churro, chomps a too-big bite out of it so he doesn’t have to talk for a bit. doesn’t make it any easier to have to listen, though, and charlie glares into the streets below to avoid looking at peter. it’s hard to believe they’re the same person, but easy enough to see the differences between them. peter holds himself differently. taller. less afraid maybe. not that charlie is afraid, or would ever admit to being so, but he’s spent so long on the defensive it feels wrong to let down his guard now, wrong to open up.