Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
𝐶𝐻𝐴𝑃𝑇𝐸𝑅 𝑇𝑊𝐸𝑁𝑇𝑌 𝐹𝑂𝑈𝑅 𝑆𝑝𝑖𝑑𝑒𝑦 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑆𝑝𝑙𝑖𝑡
☀︎︎
The past is never too far away. Peggy once told him that in grief, meaning his memories- those happy times with their brother- were never out of reach but there to comfort. Edward tried to remember it, tried to take it in stride as if his past wasn't 70 years ago. Perhaps it would have been easier to take in when remembering those mementoes, had his brother actually died. It was a morbid thought, but the anger and confusion he felt were impossible to put into words, let alone thoughts. Yet it wasn't really anger- it was betrayal that plagued Edward's body, leaving him in a day-long slump. The truth was clear and painful, cutting a wound straight down his centre: Michael Carter had faked his death.
The small box found in Peggy's room was left on his messy bed as he made his way to the city, leaving the compound as empty as it always was. If Vision was there, he did not hear of him, and he did not care. Without Mr Stark's presence, the walls were bare and the halls desolate- the synthetic man could not fill that space, no matter his human capabilities.
As he stopped against a slanted rooftop, Split looked sharply out from under the black tint of his thin mask, his breathing jagged. The sky held a dreary sort of sun: the kind that was burning, dying, leaving a blood-like trail of deep orange and pale red, flecked with pinkish whisks of cloud. It was lonely here, as the sun fell to the horizon, abandoning the day once again, succumbing to the crippling silence that was reserved for dusk.
It was the red dot against the skyline, that dissolved the isolation. Split felt his chest swell with a warmth that had not been there prior, thanks to the cold chill that captured the air. He tucked his mask further down against his chin, feeling it smooth down over the structure of his jaw, then pushed himself forward, slipping through the nothingness he was familiar with and landing beside the boy in red. This time, as if he was expecting it, Spider-Man didn't jump.
"Split and Spider-Man," he said after a moment, testing the names against his lips as his legs swung over the side of the building.
"Spider-Man and Split," Spidey said, tilting his head in his direction, as if in challenge.
"Why that order?"
"It just sounds better with my name first," the boy insisted, shrugging his shoulders. "It's all down to syllables."
There was an unsure pause and then Split had to laugh. Spiderman shook his head and chomped down on his pastry, turning his head slightly so he could raise the mask past his lips.
"Yeah right," he said. "Well, either way, we're doing this."
