[ Thing is, Dean doesn't think they had it rough because he's got no real frame of reference for how it could have been any different. He's got no plans to have kids himself and Sam... he doesn't know what Sam wants now but he doubts his brother would let himself bring kids into the world. Not when their world is as fucked as it is. Not when he's still Lucifer's meatsuit back there.
Not like here, where Sam's got a better handle on things.
Frowning briefly, he rolls his bottom lip into his mouth and then forces a smile. Tipping his beer bottle forward to clink against Peter's, he takes a long, continuous drag from it to fill the silence. ]
It's been a long time since cool was anything past not getting chewed up by Croats. How long you been here, anyway?
[ Time. Yeah it flies but Dean hasn't been having all that much fun. The sarcasm is noted all the same and he nods with a look in his eyes that probably explains a lot about how much he gets that. ]
Two years? So you're a Deerington vet. I've been here five months and sometimes I still feel like I have no idea what's goin' on.
[ It probably should have been harder to confess that he feels so far out of his depth sometimes it's terrifying. It's been a long time since he hasn't felt like he's been both in charge and in control of what's his. The camp. The mission. Hell, just his life in general. ]
People keep showin' up from my world. ...and an alternative world to mine. Honestly, it's trippy as hell. There's another me running around here.
[ Considering Dean's slowly coming around to the ideas of multiples, it hits a little less than it might have when he first arrived. Still, that sounds wild in ways that aren't all that fun.
But he is curious. It's been something that's been playing on his mind ever since he ran into the younger version of himself in those spider-infested caverns. ]
How did you deal with it? It's you but it's not you.
[ And then something else rolls to the front of his thoughts and he chews on his lip, rolling it between his teeth before forcing himself onward. ]
You ever talk to any of them and try to steer them away from mistakes you made?
[Peter sighs softly through his nose, fingers rapping along the table top.]
... Yeah. Yeah, there's a teenaged one here, actually. Fresh on the job, even with all the crazy stuff he's got under his belt. I tried to warn him about one of the villains from home — he was pretending to be a hero, anyway, and the kid didn't have any clue. How could he?
There are so many differences, it's hard to tell what the right choice is... And it's not like I had a lot of room to talk; I trusted someone who ended up a villain, too. Didn't start as one, but...
[He sinks back into his chair, and suddenly — he looks older, exhaustion casting sudden and discomforting shadows across his face. One of those looks a hunter'd get thinking back to a particularly heinous case, one where there weren't really any winners. It's easy to forget that Spider-Man's an urban soldier in a colorful costume.]
[... But then he looks resolved, leaning forward and posture straightening.]
I'll always try to steer them away from my mistakes, though. Because they're not me. Not exactly. They could be a better me. I'd love nothing more, honestly.
... And If I can make them better, it means I'll be better for doing it.
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Not like here, where Sam's got a better handle on things.
Frowning briefly, he rolls his bottom lip into his mouth and then forces a smile. Tipping his beer bottle forward to clink against Peter's, he takes a long, continuous drag from it to fill the silence. ]
It's been a long time since cool was anything past not getting chewed up by Croats. How long you been here, anyway?
no subject
Pete drinks, and then winces around the gulp through his teeth.]
Ah, well, you know... It's been over two years now.
... Time flies when you're having fun?
no subject
Two years? So you're a Deerington vet. I've been here five months and sometimes I still feel like I have no idea what's goin' on.
[ It probably should have been harder to confess that he feels so far out of his depth sometimes it's terrifying. It's been a long time since he hasn't felt like he's been both in charge and in control of what's his. The camp. The mission. Hell, just his life in general. ]
People keep showin' up from my world. ...and an alternative world to mine. Honestly, it's trippy as hell. There's another me running around here.
no subject
[He leans forward, and whispers with raises eyebrows:]
I had to live around three other Peter Parkers at once, a while back.
A teenager, a thirty-something-year-old, and one with a gut.
That's not even counting all the Spider-Mans who weren't Peter Parker.
This crap is bananas. B-a-n-a-n-a-s.
Not to mention, I ran into two versions of my ex.
no subject
But he is curious. It's been something that's been playing on his mind ever since he ran into the younger version of himself in those spider-infested caverns. ]
How did you deal with it? It's you but it's not you.
[ And then something else rolls to the front of his thoughts and he chews on his lip, rolling it between his teeth before forcing himself onward. ]
You ever talk to any of them and try to steer them away from mistakes you made?
1/2
... Yeah. Yeah, there's a teenaged one here, actually. Fresh on the job, even with all the crazy stuff he's got under his belt. I tried to warn him about one of the villains from home — he was pretending to be a hero, anyway, and the kid didn't have any clue. How could he?
There are so many differences, it's hard to tell what the right choice is... And it's not like I had a lot of room to talk; I trusted someone who ended up a villain, too. Didn't start as one, but...
[He sinks back into his chair, and suddenly — he looks older, exhaustion casting sudden and discomforting shadows across his face. One of those looks a hunter'd get thinking back to a particularly heinous case, one where there weren't really any winners. It's easy to forget that Spider-Man's an urban soldier in a colorful costume.]
no subject
I'll always try to steer them away from my mistakes, though. Because they're not me. Not exactly. They could be a better me. I'd love nothing more, honestly.
... And If I can make them better, it means I'll be better for doing it.
It's a bonus.