Chapter Forty-One: Late Night With Johnny Storm

Do you know those times when you're staying at someone else's place and you kind of just watch TV despite not really wanting to? Well...maybe you'd settle for the TV before smartphones existed.

Peter didn't really want to scroll through his phone right now. He was sad, and any slight thing could tip him into a downward emotional spiral. Well...another one.

It was pretty late so there was nothing on but The Tonight Show starring Jimmy Fallon.

"There's one guy on the Avengers that sometimes gets overlooked. He's still great, but it's hard to compete with those other guys," greeted Jimmy Fallon. "So here now to shed light on his own strengths and abilities to the tune of Ed Sheeran's 'Thinking Out Loud' is Hawkeye."

The camera cut to Hawkeye, sitting at a piano that was sprinkled with rose petals. Atop these beautiful petals was his trusty bow. The musical genius can't quite be captured in plain text, unfortunately. It's on YouTube. Watch it. You won't be disappointed.

Anyway, continuing on.

As the Arching Avenger started singing, Peter's eyes narrowed and his upper lip rose slightly. Was there nothing the great Clint Barton couldn't do?

The floor shook slightly as Ben Grimm, the Thing, trod into the room. "Hey Pete."

"Ben. Thanks for letting me stay with you... Honest, I won't be here long."

Peter was wrapped in several towels as he sat on a bean bag in the middle of the room. Ben strolled over to the gigantic mattress in the corner of the room and planted his wide, rocky butt onto it.

"Cut that out, will ya? Yer always welcome 'ere, pal." His attention was then drawn to Peter's drenched form. "You, uh...go fer a swim or somethin'?"

"Fell into the Hudson. Saved people from a chick dressed like a rabbit though."

Ben snorted in disbelief. "Ya know, it's times like these that remind me that I'm not that weird."

Peter wasn't sure if he was saying that White Rabbit was weird, of if he was weird. "Glad I could put it into perspective for you."

A comfortable quiet lingered over them. The kind of quiet that can only be shared by two weirdos on a planet that felt like it was conspiring against them. They really weren't so different, him and Ben...neither of them ever seemed to catch a break. Well, the whole 'turned into a literal living Stonehenge' was a few beats down from Peter's already potent bad luck, but that was beside the point.

"Pete...I'm sorry about yer pal. Doctor Connors," Ben finally spoke again.

Suddenly, Hawkeye singing about how he kicks ass in Mario Kart wasn't enough to distract him. Peter glanced down. "Thanks, man. I appreciate it. I'm gonna go to the kitchen. You need anything?"

"Nah I'm gonna crash. Got an ache the size of Mount Rushmore on my back. Knock yerself out, kid." Ben collapsed onto the bed, leaving Peter in awe of how the mattress didn't flatten into a pancake.

Peter, now in the Baxter Building's kitchen, pulled open the fridge. "Must've been unstable molecules," he muttered to himself. Yes, he was talking about Ben's bed. "Yeah. Unstable molecules and...vibranium bed springs."

He snatched an open packet of shredded cheese and shovelled an overflowing handful into his mouth. Then a slice of ham or two. A spray of whipped cream. Lastly, a swig of orange juice.

When he flung the door shut, Johnny Storm suddenly appeared at the kitchen counter beyond, preparing a bowl of Lucky Charms.

"Are you eating breakfast at twelve o'clock at night?" Peter questioned.

"Oh don't pull that shit with me. I've seen you have cereal for dinner."

Peter moved over to a stool on the other side of the counter and dropped into it. "...Yeah, I take that back."

Johnny tossed the cereal box into the trash, drifted over to the fridge, and pulled out a carton of milk. "Dude, tough break with that...twenty-year-old grandma you were going out with."

Peter rolled his eyes. "Could you...not call her that? Please?"

For once Johnny took a hit. After pouring some milk into his bowl and stowing the carton, he continued, "Sorry...didn't know it upset you that much. Hey, maybe you should try getting cosy with that hottie Protonslaught. You guys are always hanging out."

Peter sighed. He respected Annabelle's privacy, so he wasn't going to tell anybody her secret. Especially not Johnny. The hothead already struggled not to reveal Peter's identity. "Yeah, probably not."

"Awesome. I was gonna give you first dibs, but I guess since you're not interested..." Johnny downed a spoonful of cereal.

Peter glared at Johnny. "I don't think you're her type."

"Of course I'm her type. I'm a jerk, she's a jerk, we're both jerks! Perfect match," he remarked.

Annabelle wasn't a jerk. Peter almost said that out loud. That would've been awkward. Instead, he tried to change the subject, because anything was better than imagining him and Annabelle together. Or Annabelle with anyone else, for that matter. The thought built his guilt up anew, but still he could do nothing but remember the faces of ever single person that had died because of him. "Johnny...do you ever feel like...you're the reason for all the bad stuff that happens to everyone you care about?"

Johnny froze mid-action. He had the spoon in his mouth and a steady drip of milk escaping it like a tap that wasn't quite turned off yet. He chewed the Lucky Charms first because yes, sometimes he felt like having manners.

"I, uh...wish that I could say yes to give you some kind of...comfort, but I can't lie to you," he admitted. "Pete, maybe stuff just happens to people whether you're close to them or not. Why the hell do you have to be so important, anyway?"

It was a strange time when Johnny Storm started making sense. And then he slurped very loudly on his cereal. "Sue was telling me about this thing that people do called 'scapegoating'. We try to find something to blame for our problems when really, there isn't anything to blame. Think about the middle ages, right? Crops went bad or animals start dying. What is it? Witches. Today, even. People get sick, start acting weird. It's the 5G towers. She said it's like our brains just can't stand not having all the answers so we start making up our own."

Yeah...it was a very strange time indeed. Peter exhaled. "...You're not supposed to make sense, Johnny. You're meant to be the dumb one."

"Yeah, well...can't be dumb all the time," he quipped as he lifted the bowl up and drank the rest of the Lucky Charms. "You better get some sleep. Before the weird Captain America public service announcements come on. That's how you know it's way too late."

"I kinda like them. Teaches some good lessons sometimes."

"What? Like don't run with scissors? Don't skip school? Join the military because America needs you and your newborn sons to serve?"

"Why just sons?" Peter smirked for what felt like the first time in days. "You against women in the army?"

"Very funny," Johnny said in a deadpan tone. "I say let everyone go; kids, elderly, dogs."

"Yeah...I'm not touching that conversation."

"Don't need them anyway. If there's a war on they can just send me, I'll get the job done."

"Oh yeah?" Peter scoffed. "What are you going to do when they whip out their garden hoses and turn on the sprinklers?"

Johnny stood from his chair with an expression halfway between offended and amused. "That's not how it works, Charlotte."

Peter felt like his own confusion slapped him across the face. He stared, unblinkingly, at Johnny and said, "Charlotte?"

"Yeah. The spider from that 'Babe' movie."

Realisation dawned on Peter's face and he stifled a laugh. "You mean 'Charlotte's Web'? The book?"

"Nah, the movie. 'Babe'."

"Ew. Don't call me babe..." Peter's face scrunched in exaggerated disgust. "I don't like you that way."

"Don't. Just don't. You gotta make everything awkward, don't you? This is why I'm your only friend." Johnny snatched the Lucky Charms box from the table, leaving his empty bowl beside Peter, and opened the fridge. "Next time you say shit like that, I'm getting the fly spray."

"First of all, it's crawling insect spray, not 'fly spray'." Peter started, watching as Johnny collected the milk again and opened the lid with his teeth. "Secondly, and I've told you this a million times now, I'm not an insect. I'm an arachnid. I don't know why that's so hard for people to remember."

"Whatever. I'm going to bed." Johnny said with the bottle cap still in his mouth, then poured milk into the cereal box with the remaining lucky charms. Peter grimaced. It looked disgusting. It was definitely going to leak if he didn't eat it quickly. "Night, Charlotte."

Peter narrowed his eyes at Johnny as he left, knowing all too well that this new nickname wasn't going to die quietly. Still, despite his general stupidity, Johnny had made some good points. Maybe Peter had overreacted...but he wasn't certain that he was ready to endanger everyone again if he was wrong. Whether it was his fault or not, everyone that Peter cared about either died or got thrown into psych wards. Those were just facts, and he couldn't let that curse catch up with Aunt May...or with Annabelle.