The Grimm Thing

Sam just watched the flyers fall gracefully into chaos upon the ground around him. They were already scattered - what could he do as they fell? He was human, after all, and because he was human he definitely felt that bump. He started to assure that he was fine and went to scoop a small pile of leaflets before pausing as he took in his helping hand. It really was a small world, huh?

“Huh? Oh. Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks, man.” Sam reached for the leaflets. “Hope you, uh, don’t mind me askin’, but… What’s Ben Grimm doin’ on the opposite coast? Didn’t know sun and surf was your thing.”

“Wut...? Ya don’ reckon I got th’ complexion fer it?,” Ben snorted, faux indignation heavy in his tone. 

“So wut’s this about? Th’ Avengin’ business not payin’ enough tha’ now they gotcha out here leafletting?” he mocked, turning over one of the leaflets in his hands and reading the blurb.

It was all clear enough; Veterans Support Services in Star City - A place to share and heal.  Ben had considered going to some meetings in the distant past - once before the accident and a few times after - but he didn’t feel like he’d earned the right to.  Sure, he’d flown combat missions before he became a test pilot, but most of what he’d want to talk about had happened to Ben after he’d become The Thing and that had been a civilian flight... Nothing to do with the Airforce.

“That’s not what I said either,” he pointed out. “I came here to eat crow, Ben, and say that I’m sorry, but I can’t let you look at me and tell me I meant something that I didn’t. I might have handled all this wrong right from the start,” and he had, obviously, “but it’s not because I meant to abandon anything or forget about you. I don’t expect it matters too much, but this whole ordeal wasn’t exactly a walk in the park for me, either.” Reed didn’t want the focus on him, and he didn’t want pity about any of it, but he’d not exactly been at his best. His ‘struggle’ just tended to look a whole lot different than most people’s. 

He let out a long sigh and shook his head. “No. Nobody left a road map for any of it. I did my best, and I know the rest of you did, too. I think…” he watched him get up, “I think we did pretty alright for awhile, didn’t we?” They’d saved the world more than once, and stretched quite a ways beyond it. Reed missed that - the adventure of it, the chances to see new things, solve new problems. He missed doing it with the best people in the world at his back. 

At Ben’s offer, he nodded. “I won’t turn that down.” If nothing else, it was an invitation to stay a little longer, so he’d take it as that. “I don’t suppose you’re open to the idea of making up for that now? Better late than never, people say.” And he knew he was late.  

“I figured tha’ wuz what we’re already doin’, Stretch,” Ben said, twisting the cap from a bottle of beer and passing it to the hand which had snaked into the kitchen behind him.  “Ya figure if I didn’t wanna talk this out, yer’d still be here?”

Grabbing two bottles for himself, Ben wandered back into the room and collapsed into his chair with a *THUD* that shook the floor.  His bright blue eyes regarded the scientist as he quickly emptied the first bottle.

“Listen, Reed... We’ve bin friends fer a long time an’ ya know betta’n anyone else wut'a stubborn jackass I can be.  Jus’ like I know you’re probably th’ smartest - an' most clueless - person I know.  If it weren’t fer Susie, we probably would’a killed each other or ourselves a long time before now.”

“Truth is, I got angry, stormed out an’ got knocked on my ass a bunch’a times - probably not before time - but it gave me plenty'a time ta think too...”

Flicking the cap from his second beer with a rocky thumb, Ben took another big gulp, glancing at the creased photograph on the side table before continuing.

Jono rubbed at the spot where he’d been hit; he could feel a headache coming, though he couldn’t tell if it was from the punch or the man’s bellowing, but he about had it. He was grateful for the save, but he was fucking exhausted and he didn’t feel like being yelled at about something he already knew.

“Someone piss in your fuckin’ cheerios this mornin’?” He asked rhetorically as he brushed back a curtain of dark brown bangs. “I know this fuckin’ song an’ dance already, mate. ‘ave since I was a kid,” Jono explained tensely, his own irritation evident. “This was different. It was a literal fuckin’ nightmare I couldn’t wake up from. I had hallucinations, for fuck’s sake! This isn’t me just fuckin’ bein’ done with it all, alright?? Not that I haven’t fuckin’ tried! I just couldn’t control myself…” It wasn’t that he made the decision just to lose control on that street corner. It wasn’t that he couldn’t handle the criticism or the dirty looks or the pure hatred from some people.

He just couldn’t handle his shit right then.

“I just,” Jono sighed and buried his face into an open palm with a shake of his head. “Fuck, mate. I dunno what to tell ya. I was seein’ crazy shit an’ I just lost it.” He shrugged lamely and dropped the hand hiding his eyes, both now limply in his lap. 

“Couldn’t say,” he returned and thought back to before the incident. “Felt a prick on my neck an’ then… I can’t remember. You were tryin’ to talk me down an’ that hit was the last thing. Thought I saw someone followin’ me, but.. ‘appens too often, so,” Jono shrugged again.

“I’mma jus’ tryin’ ta help, kid... no need t’get so damned prickly,” Ben said, sounding a little offended and abashed.  

Truth was, Ben knew he’d not handled this well... Susie would’ve probably had some common sense wisdom to share to make the young man feel better, but he wasn’t Susan Storm.  He was just an old timey astronaut and hero who’d seen too much to give much thought to how regular people still reacted to this stuff.  So, maybe sharing his experience was the way to go...? 

“Okay... let’s figure this out,” The Thing continued, rubbing the back of his neck thoughtfully, causing small chunks of orange rock to crumble to the grass.  “It don’t sound like ya wuz bein’ mind controlled.  Trust me, I’ve had that done t’me a bunch’a times an’ ya kinda get ta recognize how that looks.

“Could’a bin sum kinda hypnosis, but yer usually still present wiv that an’ yer wuz definitely lost in yer own world... I reckon yer was dosed wiv somethin’, kid.”

[ @thegrimmthing liked for a starter !! ]

Sam wanted to be more involved in the community, especially the one that encompassed District X. Now that the gates were open, he figured that could be a potentially new spot to spread the word about the evening meetings at the VA. While he had no doubt that they had their own services, it never really hurt to have other options. He could help, if they wanted it.

He didn’t go inside, not yet passing the immense metal walls that surrounded the young faction, and instead passed out flyers regarding the meeting and its varying hours. There were already informational posters stapled to light posts and taped to walls, but it never hurt to go directly to the source — the people.

Sam wasn’t alone — he had a handful of other counselors and volunteers around the city in the areas closest to the VA speaking to the public to get the ball rolling.

“You got it, Monday at five,” he confirmed with one patron who looked wholly interested in attending, and even assured that they would. While most got cold feet, the ones who really wanted that little extra reassurance always showed up. To Sam, the more the merrier. “Alright, awesome man, we’ll see you then.”

Ben tried his best to discreet when walking around the city, bundled as he was in oversized trench coat and fedora, but given that his mass and composition meant that every foot fall came with its own mini seismic event, it was pretty much a non-starter.  He’d found that keeping his head down and projecting a surly attitude kept most people from bothering him, but there were always the charity muggers and flyer kids to contend with... Nothing seemed to dissuade them. 

‘Bet they’d even try t’get a donation outta Galactus if he wuz ta show up,’ Ben thought himself, eyes down as he crossed the road to avoid another teen in a brightly coloured tabard and practically walking into someone else handing out flyers.

“Guddammit... Can’t ya watch where ya goin’, fella!,” Ben grumbled loudly, more embarrassed by his own clumsiness than angry at the man he’d nearly knocked flying.  Now he’d have to stop to help this guy pick up his leaflets, when all Ben really wanted was to get home, crack some beers and watch last night’s game.

He really thought he’d had his opponent on the last turn of the cards, but then the man known as Gambit had pulled a Straight seemingly out of nowhere, leaving Ben’s Two Pair high and dry.

Drawing deeply on his cigar, Ben looked sadly at the meagre pile of chips left in front of him.  “I guess I should'a listened when folks warned me off’a playin’ wit’cha, Remy!”

Reed carried his plate to the sofa and sat down, though the conversation quickly made him forget about the pizza in his hand. He sat it aside and furrowed his brows, his expression taking on a characteristic seriousness. He’d made mistakes, and plenty of them, and he knew that he’d hurt people he was close to..but he wasn’t there to be told he didn’t care. There were a lot of things that he was good at, great at, brilliant at, and feelings weren’t one of them. Never had been. He muddled through and realized things too late, but it wasn’t because he didn’t care. 

For a moment, he thought about saying that he and Sue had been split up for a year. If Ben didn’t know that already, it wasn’t the time for it. It’d look like he wanted sympathy, or that he was trying to change the subject. Well, maybe he’d find out sometime. 

“Now that’s not fair. Not for a second. I didn’t pass that law, and I tried to appeal it every way short of telling them to stick it where you think my head’s been this whole time. I dissolved the team because we were never vigilantes. We worked with the law, right alongside it, to help. How were we supposed to keep on doing that when it told us to stop existing?” It wasn’t as if he’d liked it, it wasn’t even like he’d thought it was right, but Reed had always been the type to try to learn a system and then change it rather than outright fight it like an enemy. He just hadn’t found a way to do much changing, this time.

As he watched Ben eat, he shook his head. “You decided that, Ben. We’ve been friends for a long time, and you should know that you’ve always got a place with me. You took off, and I guess you decided all of the rest of this for me, didn’t you? Well, you’re wrong.” And he wasn’t going to be shy about telling him, either. Reed didn’t need to be told about himself. He knew what his flaws were, and abandoning his friends wasn’t one of them. “I can’t speak for Johnny or even for Sue,” though he felt sure their answers would be much the same, “but it never had a thing to do with whether or not I cared. If I’d known you needed help, I’d have helped. I don’t remember you reaching out.” He wasn’t trying to lay blame, exactly, but he wouldn’t take on every ounce of it either, even if he deserved a lot of it. 

“Wow... there it is.  So I guess ya finally got sick’a runnin’ after The Thing when he’s had one’a his tantrums, huh?” Ben said, nodding to himself as he put his pizza aside.  "An’ wadda ya mean, ‘ya didn’t know I needed help?’... When have I ever not needed ya help, Reed?  We bin there fer each other since college an’ ya know me betta than anyone, but I never figured tha’ I’d have’ta ask fer yer help.”

Despite the potential for harshness in his words, Ben’s tone was more melancholy than angry.  He might look like a monster, but Ben Grimm was very much human underneath his nigh indestructible rocky hide, with a big heart to match his size.

“No one tells ya how’ta deal wit’ this stuff, do they...?  It ain’ like Flight School, no one hands ya a trainin’ manual on day one tha’ says ‘Here’s wha’ ta do if ya exposed t’insane levels o’ Cosmic Radiation’,”  Ben snorted, pushing himself up out of the chair. 

“Yes, that’s about what I expected you to say.” At least he’d kept it PG. Ben hadn’t ever exactly been one to bite his tongue, and Reed counted on him for honesty. Right then, he needed it perhaps more than ever. He’d gotten stuck in a loop with himself and his own ideas and without anything new from the outside, that was a difficult thing to pull out of.

He hadn’t really expected hospitality, so the slice of pizza got a little smile. “Thanks. Yancy Street could teach Star City a thing or two, I think.”

That seemed as good a segue as any. “The Fantastic Four was always supposed to be more than a team, Ben. We all knew that. We’re family. It shouldn’t have been like this.” It shouldn’t have been so easy to scatter them to the wind. 

“Glad tha’ I didn’ disappoint ya then,” Ben muttered, picking up the rest of the sliced pizza and heading into the main living space of the apartment.

There were a couple of ordinary looking chairs and a couch, along with a side table and flat screen TV showing one of the sports channels, but what really drew the attention was Ben’s armchair.  It couldn’t belong to anyone but Ben Grimm, since it was a massive construction of twisted steel that resembled something carved from metallic honeycomb.  Someone had tried to soften it slightly by throwing a flower patterned blanket over it, but it only served to highlight the strangeness of the design.

Paying it no attention, Ben settled into the chair, which flexed and shifted under his weight, but didn’t buckle or bend at all.

“Maybe ya should’a thought’a that when th' whole Superhero Relocation thing started,” he continued as Reed entered the room behind him. “It comes in, an’ overnight we ain’ th’ Fantastic Four no more... Johnny’s free ta enjoy bein’ a celeb, like he always wanted to... You get ta continue wit’ ya projects like nothin’ happened, except now you ain’ gettin’ bothered every five minutes ta save the world, while Susie... Well, she stuck wit’ ya like always, didn’ she.”

Yeah, it really was too bad. To be able to eat or drink, or sing or speak for fuck’s sake, was something Jono’s mourned since it happened. The few spots in between where his mutation either changed or went away altogether were little blessings that let him remember what it was to feel whole again.

“Fuckin’ fairies,” Jono scoffed and wrinkled his nose at the remembrance of a lanky figure; he could still feel the injection site. “Ya makin’ it sound like I fuckin’ consented t’ th’ shit. … Thanks.” He really had destroyed nerve endings to thank for that, but he wasn’t about to lob sob story after sob story at the guy. He’d get sick of him, too.

“I deal wit’ it on a constant fuckin’ basis. This was… different. These were people I knew, people that.. I cared about.” Jono shook his head sat up a little straighter; his head didn’t feel as badly, but thanks to his pyrotechnic show from earlier, there were larger cracks and holes in his exposed skin. An orange glow emitted from the cracks; a flame licked at his cheek from beneath the repositioned scarf that encompassed the majority of his face and shoulders.

“I’m no’ lyin’. That’s exactly what happened… Fuckin’ saw shit an’ it got to me. End of story. Thanks for savin’ my ass, by the way.. I dunno what would’ve happened if ya didn’t.” He didn’t know what would happen to him if some crone with a badge took him away for good.

“Wha’ would’a happened?  Th’ whole damned place would’a burned down, thas wha’ would’a happened,” Ben answered gruffly, spilling some beer as he gestured with the opened bottle. “But I could see how scared ya wuz an’ tha’ it weren’t ya fault.”

“Trust me, I geddit.  Lemme guess... Sumtimes ya feel like yer’a monster cos’a how ya look or wha’ ya can do, an’ ya convince yerself tha’ folks who should love ya actually hate ya or fear ya? Join th’ club, kid.  Ya think I’ve gone through life looking like this an’ everything has been roses an’ chocolates?  Hell no!”

Emptying the beer into his mouth, Ben took a moment to compose himself.  He might look like a walking pile of boulders, but Ben was still human underneath it all and sometimes the pain of what he’d lost - the future he’d never get to have - got too much to bear.  That was something that Reed, Sue and Johnny could never understand...  They never had to look in the mirror and see a monster looking back.

“But ya know wha'?  Them folks tha’ love ya - th’ friends yer’ve made an’ family yer chosen - they’re still waitin’ for ya t’come home ‘cos they still love ya.  

“All that wha’ ya said ‘bout them hatin’ on ya?  Tha’s just our own brains tryin’ ta hurt us, an’ don’t we jus’ know th' right buttons t’push to hurt ourselves th’ most? I reckon tha’ self destructive an’ self sabotaging behaviour goes wit’ th’ territory.”

Lifting the bottle to take another swallow, Ben realised that it was already empty, which prompted a grunt of annoyance.

Although District X had largely been home to mutants since its creation, it was always meant to be open to anyone who didn’t fall under the umbrella of being baseline human. The school was the same. It was still staffed mostly by his X-Men, but having someone like Ben join the ranks would be a boon to them all. “I think you can,” he agreed. “I don’t think I need to tell you how hard it is for some of the kids when their powers activate. Especially the ones who don’t look the same anymore.” Having a physical mutation opened up a whole different level of difficulty, and after years of being involved with or running the school and different teams, he was well acquainted with how much that could affect them. 

He let the subject drop and to give Ben the moment to acquaint himself with the place. Scott was proud of what they’d been able to do since sealing the District off. It wasn’t a perfect situation, not by a long shot, but every time they built something out of nothing it was hard not to look at it with satisfaction. Building something from nothing was what they were good at.

“I’m glad you like it,” he said with a huff of laughter. “It’s all yours. Once you get settled in, come see me at the school and we’ll get you set up.” 

“Yeah, I’ll do that,” Ben replied absently, still awed by the apartment he’d just been gifted. 

He turned as Scott’s words finally sunk in, his face serious. “No, ya don’ gotta tell me how hard it is... Anything I can do ta help them kids, ya got it.”

Ben hadn’t been prepared for the effect his physical change would have on the way the world saw and treated him.  Sometimes he felt like the monster that he resembled, wanting to lash out and scream about how unfair & painful it all was.

If Ben could spare these kids even a moment of that by showing them that they were heard and understood, then he’d do it.  Hell, he would’ve done it even without the swanky new digs.

Scott & Ben exchanged a few more words, mostly small talk about Johnny and anything the X-Man had heard about Reed & Sue, before he left.  Alone at last, Ben felt a tension he hadn’t realised he was carrying relax from his shoulders. He took a faded and crumpled photograph from his pocket, unfolded it and balanced it almost reverentially on a modern looking sideboard.

“So, here were are at last, guys,” the Yancy Street refugee said to the figures in the photo. “Home, sweet home.”

~~ Captain Marvel’s Hero ~~

“I didn’t know you’d gained the ability to see through a wall,” he said with a dry little chuckle as he opened the door. An apartment was an apartment, small and convenient, but it took only a glance to see that where Ben lived was suited well for him. Again, he found himself relieved. 

As the scent of the pizza filled the room, Reed watched Ben. It was true that in all his genius, he could sometimes miss very obvious cues. No one would ever claim that he was overly aware, or sometimes aware at all, of the feelings of those around him. He didn’t disregard them on purpose, exactly, but they so often conflicted with what was logical that he gave them a priority so low that it seemed like he didn’t notice at all. And sometimes he didn’t. Right then, however, Ben could not have made things more plain.

Rare was it that Reed had to admit he was wrong about something, but he wasn’t there because he’d come up with an incorrect solution to an equation. “I thought we should talk.” He reached out, stretching one arm far enough through the kitchen to nudge a plate on the counter closer to Ben. “Don’t let it get cold on my account. It smells too good.” 

He cleared his throat as his hand returned to a more normal place by his side. “I let things get too far away from me this time. I’m sure you probably have a much more creative way of saying it, but I think I’ve spent the last few years with my head buried in the sand.” 

“Ya head wuz sure buried sumplace, but I don’ reckon it wuz in th’ sand...,” Ben mumbled distractedly as he concentrated on slicing the hot, melty, delicious-smelling pizza.

The utensil he used was unique to say the least; it resembled a normal pizza slice with handle and circular cutting wheel, except the handle was fashioned from solid steel reinforcement bar and welded to a large shiny disc that looked more like it had previously belonged in a industrial surplus outlet, rather than a kitchen shop.  

But even with such a robust tool, Ben was slow and the steel bar visibly bent in his grip as he focused on the task at hand.  Finally complete cut his satisfaction, he set aside the misshapen tool and gave a nod of appreciation.

“I always wuz th’ best pizza chef on Yancy Street, even if I do sez so myself!”

Using a spatula that appeared to have had an earlier life as a garden trowel, Ben transferred a large slice of the pizza to the plate, before pushing it back towards Reed.

@thegrimmthing

It had never been that Reed outright supported the hero ban. He hadn’t. Why would he? They were heroes. It hadn’t been the same situation as the Registration Act, where the goal had not been a discontinuation, but oversight and proper training. Still, whether he agreed or not, he had complied. The Fantastic Four had disbanded rather than resist, though for awhile he’d tried to pursue legal means of doing so. They’d all amounted to nothing. He hadn’t wanted that to entail going their separate ways, yet that was what had happened anyway. The effects continued to trickle down. He lost touch with Ben, Johnny had moved across the country, and eventually even Sue had left. That particular wound was still raw and only about a year old. 

All signs pointed to him having waited too long. He’d kept himself busy, always tinkering with some new project or pursuing some kind of idea and experiment, but he’d neglected everything else. Reed had always been one to throw himself into his work and try to fit in life around it, but he’d taken it too far for too long this time. The Four could have helped Star City. Three of them had, apparently. Sue, Johnny, and even Ben had all been on the ground being what they were all suited to be. Heroes. 

He was the one who was late.

Knowing Ben was in the city meant just spending a little time figuring out where. Reed had cursory knowledge of District X - its existence had been publicized, after all - and part of him was grateful that his friend had managed to find a place to go. It wasn’t his place to thank anyone for that, but he did it anyone when he crossed paths with Scott Summers. It took some convincing to get Ben’s address, but he was eventually able to show up at the apartment door and knock. 

“Anyone home? It’s Reed.” 

“Ya don’ have’ta announce yerself, ya dummy... I still know who y’are.  Let yerself in, I’ll be right wit’cha.” 

The smell of melted cheese, cooked tomatoes and hot pepperoni filled the apartment, as Ben crouched in front of the large oven, intently watching the cooking pizza.

“Sorry fer not gettin’ up, Reed, but twen’y more seconds an’ this pie’ll be perfect...  aaaan' we’re done!”

Reaching into the searing hot space, Ben took hold of the scolding pizza dish without mitts or tongs, transferring it an insulated pad on the worktop where it sizzled and steamed.

“I figured one’a ya would come by, once I told Susie where I wus,” Ben continued, finally turning to face Reed and crossing his arms over his massive chest. “Kinda surprised it wus you though, if I’m honest.  Figured yer’d managed ta keep yerself busy this long an’ yer’d have more important things t'do.”

It could almost be a joke on Ben’s appearance to say that his expression was hard as he regarded his old friend, but the coldness of his blue eyes quickly buried any suggestion of humour.