quipsandthwips | [PSL] The Vinsmokes vs. Spider-Man

[PSL] The Vinsmokes vs. Spider-Man

[Peter Parker is doing fine.

Let him re-phase that: he's adapted and adjusted accordingly. Look, it hasn't been easy. Deciding to remain friends with MJ and still finding himself without an actual job or home to speak of doesn't beat losing both his mentor and his last surviving family member. There are empty spaces in his life that he tries not to linger on too long — but god, he misses May's smile, her voice, her kindnesses. It had taken so long to accept Ben's death... and now it's, just... it's hard. It's easier to just be Spider-Man for a while.

Crime doesn't sleep, after all. So yeah, homeless. That's no biggie. He's been there before. He mainly just works at FEAST with the homeless (he relates, and the new head honcho Miriam knew Peter was on the streets somehow, so he makes his keep there by volunteering. He, um. He gets to sleep in May's old office. It's... nice. There are still pictures and stuff hanging up that nobody had dared move.

So he's only sort of homeless now.

Anyway. Not important. What is important is keeping tabs on the villain activity around here. With most of the villains locked up aboard the Raft (not gonna even think about Dr. Octavius right now, because it still hurts too much), it's mainly these little obnoxious crime families and gangs; Kingpin had been the leader of all the gang activity before his arrest. And now it's this crime family. The Vinsmokes. Hard to get them arrested, and they've got so many secret strings being pulled all over. It makes for a real pain in the ass to deal with. He hasn't gotten a chance to catch the head honcho with anything criminal yet, but boy oh boy has he busted soooo many drug deals, weapons manufacturing, stolen goods deals — and so on.

Most of the grunts are easy-peasy. The literal family are all a bunch of super-powered heathens like him. Cool. He's gotten, like, three of them locked up on the Raft... only to have them somehow bought out, or released for shoddy police work, or something or another. Now there's just one locked up, but it's only a matter of time before Daddy Vinsmoke does his magic.

Ugh. He hates it.

2:30 a.m., and he's down by the docks and sticking against a nearby wall as fake money exchanges hands.]

Hey, do those work on any vending machine?

I'm dying for a bag of Doritos right about now.

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[Peter's shoulders sag.

... Heh. Rejection.

Rejection he wasn't even realizing he'd been anxious for in the first place.

Fuck. x2. He just smiles weakly, because he figures it's fair; he deserves that.]

... I mean, if the shoe fits... 'Raging trashfire' seemed too mean.

I'm sorry, uh. You should rest. You're still feeling tired, right?

[Tired? Yeah, that's a word for it. The sort of exhaustion that's so deep-seated you feel it in your bones instead of your skin. He'll be asleep the moment he slows down.

Before that, though, his gaze presses through his bangs, assessing Peter for a moment. If he has any idea what the other's thinking, it doesn't show on his face. But before long, an anxiety that's all his own starts to surface, bringing along with it a wave of guilt]

... You need ice for your neck.

[He huffs a sigh, hand moving back to his throat.

Muttered under his breath:]

... It's not the first time I've been choked, honestly...

[Sorry, what was that-]

I can, uh, get a bag of peas. That's usually how it works, right? Bag of peas?

But I'm kind of worried you're pulling a fast one on me and you're gonna try to jump back out the window the moment I walk out of the office.

If I wanted to leave now, I'd just go.

[Says he, who got stopped in his tracks by a kiss that he refuses to count as genuine. Though uh, giving Peter a look because Sanji is damn certain he just heard Peter admit he's been choked before and who had the balls--]

... C'mon. [Heading toward the door before Peter can even get there, finessing it open with a rough shove of his shoulder]

I'll babysit you all the way to kitchen if it'll help you feel better.

[It almost seems... too good to be true. And he looks at Sanji with those wide, hopeful eyes, the kind that are obnoxiously kind and stupidly altruistic. It's a problem. But what's crucial here is this: Sanji's gonna actually come down to the kitchen, in front of the others, and be... himself here again. This isn't ending in the guy rushing out a window and out of FEAST's life.

That's a victory, one he's not used to having. He's had a lot of... hard hits lately.

Is this a mirage, or something? If he wags his hand at the man, will he get all foggy?]

You're coming with?

... Yeah! Yeah, let's go.

[He's moving to follow, a sort of newfound bounce in his step.

Choke a guy and he's following you like a happy dog. It's nonsense.

But get used to it, Sandy.]

You sure you're okay? I mean, if you're still not feeling well, you should be resting...

[Rolling his eyes to the ceiling as he hears Peter practically prance behind him, for shit's sake--]

Oi, you wanna keep an eye on me or not? Stop asking stupid questions.

[Peter, Sanji did not think he had to spell out what he was doing. It's irritating that he hasn't left, as he very well should, and the only way to protect himself from his own stupid decisions is to pretend that this is all for someone else's sake.

After all, he's gotta sell it to the people downstairs. Half the shitty building heard him and Peter going at it, and knowing that they know he's here twists the chef's back up in knots, shoulders bunched closer to his ears, making it harder to pull off a casual walk.

Peter can crow all he likes about people giving a shit about him, but it's. not ever that simple.]

... Everyone's downstairs?

[After a moment, Peter nods.]

Uh... yeah... Maybe they didn't hear any of that?

[He says it with a sheepish smile and all the knowledge in the world that they definitely heard the muffled quarreling. As they make their way downstairs, Peter stands his collar up a bit more, not too eager for anyone to see the marks there; it doesn't cover them totally, but if he walks quick enough, nobody'll know.

As they walk into the main cafeteria area, all the workers mysteriously seem to be on the tail-end of rushing to nonchalant spots, like that's where they've always been, and Peter smiles and gives Sanji a quick thumbs up.]

I'll get what I need out of the freezer.

[He's not trying to abandon Sanji, but he figures it'd be good to get out of an area where people can scrutinize him... aaaand he can also ask Celeste for her make-up bag, maybe. They have pretty similar skin tones? So y'know. He can just make-up the issue away.

Seems like the perfect plan.]

[Leaving him to fend for himself when he's been MIA for the past three days? Sure, Peter, that's a brilliant plan that Sanji is sure to like. His mouth twists into the beginnings of dissent, but rather than say a word, he instead walks off to hold up a wall by his lonesome, near one of the cafeteria's corners.

-- And of course, his solitude lasts for all of 30 seconds before people trickle in his direction. He must look tired or just pathetic with his head bowed and arms folded, his complexion still pale -- the residents instinctively know to treat him with kid gloves, sliding him gentle nudges and large smiles while welcoming back his return. Was he sick? Ah, flu's going around, isn't it. Sandy, ya gotta take better care of yourself, we've been eating like shit without ya.]

... Yeah, I'll -- sorry. [Feeling his face give a slight flush, Sanji rubs at his neck and just. allows their goodwill without complaint, and tries to ignore how everyone grins all the more for it.

More than one person tells him that Peter was sulking without him around.]

Tch. I already heard all about it.

[Scoffing under his breath, his eyes pick their way to the kitchen doors. No matter how high the urge to escape from everyone's prying eyes is, he grumpily surrenders himself to wait until Peter shows up]

[This is crazy, Peter thinks, leaving Sanji to the horde (and knowing full well he can't slip away with them holding down the fort, sorry, buddy). He presses a bag of frozen vegetables against his neck and feels a little sick for a moment — not only did something fucking crazy happen to Sanji somewhere in the Vinsmoke mess, but it's obviously a pattern. And not only is that a thing, but so is the fact that he'd just kissed the guy. Not even just a peck on the cheek or something to be stupid, but —

He honestly didn't expect it, and he's the one who did it.

What the hell, Pete?]

... This is crazy, this is crazy — this is way past mixing business with pleasure...

[Alright, maybe mumbling at himself in front of a fridge isn't the way to go about this. He lets things go on for a while as he nurses himself, mostly just letting Sanji melt back into the usual hustle and bustle, and when he does finally reappear, people part like the red sea and go their separate ways. Peter wants to ask... a lot of things, honestly. What the hell happened to him. Why he wasn't remotely surprised, at whatever they did. Why they did it. Who, exactly, did it.

But he knows he can't, not without making it painfully clear he knows who Sanji really is.

Who is family really is.

And that... that would probably really scare him away for good.

As long as he can manage it... he'd like to hold onto him. Just... a little longer.

Just until he can find a way to help.

Because that's what Spider-Man does.]

*****

["To think we'd have missed this guy, if Sanji wasn't screwing around with him and that FEAST place."

Of course, Peter isn't aware of the roster of names the Vinsmokes have on file — all scientists, all people who excel at genetics, at neurology, at biophysics and robotics. He's not aware of the blue-haired Vinsmoke's return to the Vinsmoke estate, nor of the casual flick-flicking of fingertips through those newly added case files, to the last name Parker. Nor is he aware of the stack of Otto Octavius' work that he'd directly been involved in, all with regards to neural enhancements, all pulled up since their little discovery.

"Not a bad addition to the people we bought out from Oscorp; this kid was offered spots with them a bunch of times, too," they say, "Any enhancement is a good enhancement, don't you think, boss? This kid did help make a real monster: that Doctor Ock guy they have locked up tight on the Raft."

The file slaps the desk.

"... Keep an eye on him, then. Everyone has a price they'll bend to — or a threat."

Maybe their little failure can supply them this much, after masquerading among the poor and undeserving.]

[In the meanwhile, Peter has some things to attempt himself.

Like talking to Sanji after the world rights itself, in FEAST.]

So...!

[Peter plops his butt on the island table in the kitchen, once the world around them have settled into something familiar enough. He's bitten his tongue about the whole... everything, and he's even skillfully convinced everyone he's just into turtlenecks for a day or two, until the bruises are gone. He's kinda more focused on the whole Dr. Phil thing, which is... tricky, because he can't ask anything that directly, and even if he wanted to, Sanji's got a hair-trigger temper sometimes. Most times. A lot of the time.]

How's... everything?

[Nailed it.

Man, he sucks at this.

But they're actually alone for once, so maybe it's a good time to... fish a little?

Probably not, but a guy can dream.]

I mean, do you feel alright now? Not sick or anything, right?

Oh? We finally starting the shitty interrogation, eh?

[The man glances up from his dishes, sweatshirt sleeves pulled all the way to his elbows as the soap suds drip off his arms. The look he shoots the brunette is thoroughly unimpressed. Sorry, Peter, your job is not helped by the fact that Sanji is perpetually grumpy and sharp with suspicion, so the fact that Peter sucks at this? Obvious to both parties in the kitchen.

... At least the atmosphere in the room isn't... hostile. Sanji doesn't seem much surprised, either, by the fact he's been cornered all by his lonesome to sate Peter's curiosity. The bastard is terrible at keeping to himself anyway; Sanji knew it was a matter of time. He wastes a moment pulling a towel up by his teeth and toward his hands -- shut up, he doesn't want the floor to get wet reaching over with his arms -- before continuing with an answer, voice relatively even-keeled.

Peter better enjoy it while it lasts]

No, I'm not sick. Whatever shit was in my system ran its course.

[Helped by Sanji smoking the poison out of his body, since he might as well use that fire perk if he's got it. He's had time to remove any toxins, too, as the last three days, Sanji hasn't... gone home, either.

Where he sleeps is a small mystery -- it's not in Peter's room. But lately, he hasn't left the shelter once his shift is over, just excuses himself to the second floor and vanishes soon after. For most of them, solving the mystery is more trouble than it's worth. The facility has already accepted Sanji as their chef; makes sense that no one bats an eye when he regresses into FEAST's fidgety cat upon nightfall.]

-- Oh, and I'm not telling you shit about my family, my circumstances, or anything else you can get your nosy mits on, so don't bother.

[This is the guy you kissed twice, Peter]

[... He retracts both kisses. One kiss of which has never been brought up again, not by him, not by Sanji, and they both seem more than prepared to forever keep it that way. Deflating a little and giving Sanji a dead-eyed, unimpressed look, he clears his throat.]

H'okay, fine. I'm just worried, you know?

It's my job to worry about everyone in here. Like, almost literally. And you did kind of scare me back there, so I'm making sure you're gonna be okay. Like how friends are supposed to do.

[He flutters his eyelashes innocently where he's sitting atop the table.

You'd think he'd taken a whole tray of cookies for himself.

(He'd never... at FEAST, anyway.)]

[Sanji's retort is throwing a wet towel directly on Peter's forehead with a satisfying smack.

This is the guy you wanted to be friends with, Peter]

Pretty damn sure the last time we had this conversation, I had to remind you that being friends with assholes who go into traces and start choking people is bad for your health.

[Voice still light (and quiet, no need for anyone to overhear them talking), but there's a pointed jab hidden underneath, proof that Sanji isn't okay with what happened and doesn't think Peter should be, either.]

[He rolls his eyes.]

You act like we haven't had drug addicts or people having mental breaks try to strangle me.

This place doesn't exactly have any shortage of rough situations.

[But alright, it's clearly not gonna be a thing they're talking about much. He'll have to figure out another way to sink some barbs in and taser the information out of Sanji. Metaphorically, of course. Very metaphorically, even if he would love to shove one of those hand-zappers into his face one of these days.]

Okay, okay. Uh. Then good news, I guess. I finally got an apartment — It'll just be another week or two before it's ready, and I'll finally be not... technically homeless!

[Ha. But after a moment, he fishes out a folded-up letter from his breast pocket.]

And...!

A research lab reached out and actually wants me to come in for an interview. Not that I'm too familiar with them — they're pretty new, and all — but their prospects look good, and they seem like they have a pretty squeaky clean record. Y'know, comparatively, anyway.

Also, health care. Health care! I haven't had health insurance in forever.

Edited 2019-04-26 01:45 (UTC)

[Oh -- well. Okay, topic change, then. Makes Sanji realize how rare it is for them to shoot the breeze and not have it end in a disaster of sorts.

So much as he wants to press the issue (again), because Peter clearly needs the reminders, Sanji stows his discontent and tries for a smile instead, a crooked one that comes out vaguely amused but ultimately honest.

Peter is happy. That's what's important.]

Oi, congrats. A crib and a job, eh?

[Eyeing the letter amiably before he reaches over and pilfers it, wet fingerprints making a mark on the paper. He snaps it open] Damn, and they're the ones who found you? Your luck's really turning--

[--

No.]

[The visceral response Sanji seems to have is enough to set off Peter's spider sense, even if only faintly — a sort of aftershock, a there's something bad blowing this way feeling that leaves his hairs standing up and his arms breaking out in goose-pimples.

He leans forward, just a little closer, trying to lock eyes.]

... Alessandro?

You alright?

["Sandy" has been many things to FEAST -- grumpy, annoyed, frustrated, even mad -- but the expression that bleeds into his face is one only Spider-Man will know: single-minded fury.

His entire arm explodes into fire.]

You're not going there.

[The excessive display of force gets the job done; Peter's letter has dissolved into ash, fluttering to the kitchen floor like snow. And even then, the fire roars for a couple seconds longer, as if to burn the very idea from Peter's head.

Once the fire clears (and the smoke too, he's fuckin lucky he didn't set off the sprinkler system with his fit), the man hisses between his teeth and takes a step back.]

[-- And then takes a moment to pause, with the color slowly draining from his face, at just how severely he fucked this up.

Shit.]

... Get out.

[It's an automatic order, one Peter will be familiar with -- that soft, blank voice Sanji uses when he's running scared and recoiling on himself. And he knows it, too. It's why he winces once the words are out of his mouth, like he's taken a shot at Peter. The poor bastard has got to be so confused.]

-- We'll talk later, alright? I -- [need to think, need to think up a plan, need to stop panicking because he doesn't know what to do with the hole growing in the pit of his stomach. Sanji swallows and tries not to vomit]

Don't go there yet, alright? For the interview. Say something came up.

[A hand goes to tangle in his bangs, and his expression cracks a little, flashes of fear and weariness peaking underneath his bangs] We can -- I dunno, meet on the roof, or your room, or -- [A helpless shrug. He turns away, back to the dishes]

I gotta finish this first.

[Boy, that's not a look he expects outside of the mask.

But here we are, and he doesn't even have to pretend to look taken aback. Something about this research lab has gotten Sanji shaken and enraged to his core — and this isn't exactly how he wanted to get information dug up on the guy. After a moment, he takes a step back, and nods with what understanding he can muster (it just barely outweighs the flood of confusion, just barely).]

... Alright. Okay. The interview's tomorrow, so I'll just — tell them I got food poisoning.

Or something.

[A pause. He opens his mouth. Closes it. And — ]

It'll be alright, whatever's going on. I'll see you on the roof. Um. Less eyes and ears there...? Just name when, and I'll be there.

[... Spider-Man's gonna have to investigate this lab, and soon.

But Sanji doesn't need to know that.]

[Sanji does as he's asked, gives Peter a specified time in the afternoon when traffic will be slow and Gloria will be most likely to relieve him for an hour. The roof is best; people here treat it like it's Peter's, or at least what's left of his aunt's -- no one goes up there without permission.

By the time Sanji winds his way up the stairs, a chill has set in the air, one he can feel through his sweatshirt. The plants feel it, too; most of them are shriveled from the winter cold and won't be back until spring, but a few of the more resilient plants are turtling through. Sanji sets himself next to these, sitting criss-crossed on the ground with his hood up... and thinks.

There's no hiding from the truth. His family knows. Coincidences don't run in the Vinsmoke family, after all; his father is no saint, but he's no great fool, either. It was always going to be a matter of time until he caught wind of what his son was doing.

-- It's that Sanji doubted the bastard would care, and he feel the fire boil his blood again, a punishment for overlooking the sadistic tendencies of his relatives. Oh, he can sooth his soul by assuming they sent the invitation on the merit's of Peter's intellect alone, but it doesn't matter in the end. Once they find out Peter knows who Sanji is, they'll toy with him until he's a husk.

He should leave -- no, he should bargain with his father. Keep FEAST and Peter out of their orbit like the peasants they are. Sanji will come home. He'll submit himself more thoroughly this time, the way he couldn't bear to after Wolfwood's death. Surely he owes Peter that much.]

Assuming the bastard won't go snooping around...

[Murmuring to himself with a dejected laugh, and then lowering his head against his knees, trying to rest the great weight of his failures on something stable.

It's his fault, ain't it? Flying off the handle means Peter's good samaritan qualities will hit overdrive. And maybe, just maybe he can handle this bullshit on his family's end, so long as he's got the tools to bargain, but Peter?? He can't seem to make that idiot do anything that's safe for him, and another explosion of fear hits his stomach.

Worst case scenario is Peter connects just enough dots to be considered a nuisance, and one of the Vinsmokes will have him gunned down.]

... You're killing me, Pete'.

... Sorry about that.

[He finally comes up to the rooftop himself, carrying what's definitely a bag of fries and burgers from a little stand he likes to frequent. If there's something he likes to quell his concerns or depressions with, it's either a.) gratuitous jokes or b.) lots of food. He's a little relieved that the roof isn't... on fire... or anything like that, and when he finally reaches Sanji's side he quietly takes a seat next to him.

Honestly, he's really... really nervous. Because he'd been really sure he got Sanji back fully after that awkward fight in the office — hell, he even kept hush-hush about his brother showing up on the steps — and how this letter is yet another threat to everything the guy's made here. There's nothing more awful than thinking he'll be failing the chef, letting him retreat back into his shell. They'd fight as a Vinsmoke and Spider-Man, sure, but there was no doubt he was pulling his punches even more. Limiting his interactions with the mafioso. Trying to nip things before the guy even got a chance to get involved.

Hard to do that and not piss Daddy Vinsmoke off, but it's not like Spider-Man isn't without a crapton of enemies anyway.]

... So.

I guess this is a redo of the kitchen earlier? When I... ask how things are?

[Ah... bastard overheard that, did he?

Sanji doesn't bother looking chastised when he'll be spending all of the next half hour trying not to lose his shit, but he does rub at his face, taking a moment to gather his nervous thoughts before he reaches over and steals whatever fries are in that bag.]

Something like that.

[A beat of quiet. Sanji fidgets with a fry between his fingers, not looking at Peter]

... I know the people who own that facility you were invited to. And trust me -- they deal with some pretty nasty shit. A lot of... genetic modifications. It's why I--

[Why he freaked out at the thought of Peter going there, of course, though Sanji gives a shrug to distance himself from that. Shit's complicated enough without going down that line of thought]

I mean, they only hire the best of the best, so take that as you want it. I'd still give 'em a wide berth. [Glancing at Peter now, his expression grim] It's not worth it.

Edited 2019-04-29 00:58 (UTC)

[Peter quiets, and hears about as much as he expects. A bad place with awful practices, all dressed up to look harmless and helpful. They probably do some really shady crap to keep people there, too, when the money just isn't worth it anymore. It's not necessarily the first run-in he's had with a situation like this, no, but...]

Sandy... How do you know all this?

I mean. Have you, uh. Worked there before?

[Peter feels awful for knowing more than he should, honestly. Because he's more than aware that Sanji's not gonna be a worker bee there. Even still... Maybe there's a way he can carve some information out of this, widdle Sanji down until he tells him enough.]

[He was waiting for that question.

And even after all this time up on the rooftop, trying to reason his way to a safe answer, Sanji still doesn't know what to tell Peter. The truth is too ugly to say outright, but this time a lie might hurt more than it heals.

This will require a deft and delicate hand, he coaches to himself. No mistakes. Deep breath.]

Some relatives of mine were... well, they were involved at some point.

[Vague enough that Sanji isn't technically lying, but offering almost no details. He shoves any semblance of guilt away and keeps talking]

But nah, I never worked there. [A flash of a smile, tight around the edges] Not a nerd like you. Besides, it ain't my area of expertise. All I can do is cook.

[Another half-truth, but more easily shared. Strictly speaking, all of the Vinsmoke children have access to their father's facilities, even the disgraced 3rd son -- just so happens Sanji prefers to keep his hands to himself and almost never sets foot in the labs unless his father requires his attendance.]

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