2013.07.23 - Those Who Stray

Patrick left behind a note after his meeting with the other Spiders in the apartment so that Keith would know he is alive and had things to think about. Of course the exact tone and the little bit said there was meant to make Keith not worry about him while he spent time away thinking about things. It has been some time since then now, Patrick himself is not sure how long as he has all but forgotten to look at the time at any point. At the moment he is in the tallest building in New York...or more on than in. He has found a nice little ledge near the top where he can look out over the city and see everything and is hanging under it. He hs been lost in thought, about the reactions to the meeting, his being cut off from his reality, even his relationship with Keith. Of course, that made Keith worry a little bit. If there was nothing to worry about, a call would have sufficed. Notes always meant something.

But, he waited. And waited. And then when 'soon' became 'later' and then 'late', the cat decided to see what was happening.

Creature of chaos, creature of luck, eventually the invisible cat makes his way towards the tallest building. Why? Because it's where he would go, if he wanted to think about things. A purple, soft-padded foot touches upon the rooftop as his body appears into view, eyes adjusting."... rough day?" he says quietly.

There is a small pause after the purple furred body fades into view on top of the ledge that Patrick happens to be hanging from. "A...thought provoking one." He replies looking up at the lucky kitty. After a second he says, "Have I been gone that long? I'm sorry if I worried you by being out this late."

Vorpal tilts his head and walks close to the ledge. "Don't be silly, that's what we do, you know. It's better to have someone looking for you than knowing nobody will." He sits down on the ledge, one leg dangling, the other one raised onto the ledge. He doesn't press Patrick, but rather if he wants to talk, he has the open door right then and there. The cat does not want to prod his boyfriend when he is obviously distracted. "I can go back to the apartment and let you be if you want that. I just wanted to make sure my spider was safe." He smiles.

Patrick nods as he listens to Keith. "I know, that is why I left the note when I stopped by the apartment. So you would know I am ok, but it is a good that you are here." He pauses a little bit looking out over the city again. "It was right here I saw the first one. A series of webs made with the same type of web fluid I use that all had the same set of numbers inside of it. It was a fairly sophisticated code just what I would expect from one of them really. I am sorry I did not mention it, or what I was doing but it felt....personal. The code was for a location in the city, and a time earlier tonight." He tells the story with his nearly flat tone, the one he uses for business or when he really does not know what emotions he should be showing.

Vorpal nods, listening attentively, ears swiveling. By the tone, he can tell it was serious.

"How did it go?"

Patrick says, "It was...interesting." He goes with the noncommital comment on his meeting becuase he is not sure really how to say that it went. "I had thought the message was from him, the first person to use the Spider name. It was the other one, the one..." He pauses a second looking up at Keith. "The one my brothers and I were in part named after. Red Team, the Scarlet Spiders. In my world he had it worse than I ever did you know. He was a clone of Spider Man but did not know it at first, he thought he was the real one for a long time, and then had to leave the people he knew and remembered because so that Spider-Man could be with his family and no one wold find out who he is. In this world instead of going away becoming a hero a long way away he has made a life for himself and...was wanting to create a team...a network of those of us using the whole Spider theme so we could work together and help one another.""

Vorpal looks up at him, "But this is good, then... this is an opening for you to be part of a team and have team-mates, even ones that you share things with... this ... other one, for example, it sounds like you're just the person to understand." He smiles. Goodness knows Keith had tried to look into teams, but he continued to remain on the outside. Part of that chaos thing. "So then this was a good meeting for you?" he says, hopeful.

Patrick shrugs a little, which looks a tad odd since he is still haning upside down. "I...miscalculated. It was Scarlet Spider's idea, and the Spider is still just a kid. They all are in truth if the little bits of biometrics and the critical evaluation I made on voices and physical shape is consistant with what little I can remember of Spider-Man from my reality." He shakes his head as he realizes he has gone off on a small tangent. The fact that he has not stuck to the pure facts and folled everything straight through in a linier patter should be enough evidence not all is right inside his head. "I was excited about the idea for the reasons you gave, and because any such group would need someone like me. The problem is that Spider-man himself did not seem convinved. Scarlet was trying to talk him into it and I...in my world I met Spider-Man, the first time I ever questioned authority. He told me something that stuck with me, helped me at times. I ..." He trails off a second reordering his thoughts.

Vorpal frowns. He had only seen Patrick having problems with expressing a clear line of thought once- the night where they admitted their vulnerabilities to each other. The night that had begun their relationship, in a way. He sidles up to him and puts an arm around his shoulders, tilting his head in his direction in a silent gesture of 'I'm listening.'

Patrick leans a little into the hug as the arm slips around him. "I spoke up in favor of the grouping, even as a loose alliance more than a team if he felt that were a better idea. While I did so, I used the quote that the one from my reality gave us that changed things. It...did not go well" After saying this he sighed and closed his eyes once more. "He...there was little information on Spider-Man in the early days. Only who he fought and saved but nothing of who he was then. THe way he said the words to us I knew it had great meaning to him but he became angery, exceptionaly belligerant in fact that I used those words."

"And when you met him in your reality, he was older..." The cat looks at his boyfriend, "Don't beat yourself up, Patrick... we act differently at different ages. Perhaps now those words sting him for some reason, but as he gains maturity they will be different to him. You had no way of knowing..." he says quietly, trying to make his voice soothing.

Patrick says, "I should have. He is young, at least 15 years younger than the one in my world. I should have realized he would react differently. I...I should know why but I do not. I know I learned his identity and..." Just a little bit of frustration breaks into his voice for a second. "A lot of things I know that I should know I do not. I remember reading everything on Spider-Man from the coverge of the day he unmasked himself in favor of registration to his family but....I do not remember any of it. Ever since I angered him that way there has been something...at the back of my mind but I can not for the life of me drag it forwards."

Vorpal frowns, reaching out to stroke Patrick's neck a little, "Well... you've been 'here' all this time, and this is not where you came from. Things are different and you've had to readjust, so probably a lot of knowledge you had stored is now in the back burner... you know that the more relevant knowledge to our environment goes to the fore, while that which we don't use tends to be less fresh? Don't be so hard on yourself..."

Patrick shakes his head. "No, it is not that. My training, the programing is all there. The things I know of my other life and my main memories are intact. Much of the classified data I should know though is gone, and most of it in relation to other heroes. Names, faces, real identities I should know that I did know before are all....gone. All of it that I know is no longer there is learned information, most of it from not long before my coming to this world."

Vorpal 's eyes widen a litttle, and he ponders this for a second. "... before Booster... vanished, he told me that his knowledge of this time tended to come and go as well, and that there were things he didn't know about, even though he came from the future. Perhaps there is some sort of... defense that this reality has against that sort of knowledge? I don't know..." he trails off, his hand stroking his back affectionately. "I wish I could help you... maybe if we talk to Dr. Richards again?..."

Patrick shakes his head and sighs again. "He does not have any experiance with...with clones." There is a slight pensiveness in his voice as he goes oversomething in his head that has been bothering him since he made the realization about his memory. "There are other things as well. I have not been thinking clearly as I should. You have been right in some things. I am not alone, and have been placing too much emphasis on my not being a real person. I have been clinging to you, to anyone that has shown me kindness because I miss what I had and was once...."

Vorpal frowns a little, looking at Patrick. Where was he going with this? "It's not 'that' unusual, when you're a stranger in a strange land..." the wind blows some of his hair down over one eye, and he swats it away.

Patrick nods a little. "Unusual no, but it is not good. Or fair to either of us." The wind blows once more, a colder wind than seconds before chilling even Patrick in his suit despite the thermal regulation built into it. "I do not know who I am really, and if I continue to define myself only by those around me I will never know. I will always be a...an albatross around your neck clinging to you and not letting you become what you can really become."

"Patrick... what are you... what are you saying?"

He went very still, barely moving. He didn't really need to ask the question, he knew what the meanings of the words were. But it's the natural reaction when one can see a light shining ahead and, against all evidence, still asks for confirmation that it is the exit and not, in fact, a train. His pulse quickened a little.

Patrick says, "If I stay it will be as good as wrapping you in chains. I don't expect you to understand but...it is better for you to be without me. Your own existane was beging to take off but you are still living in a place that is not much better than the warehouse you wer ein before hand. The rent is paid for this month, and for next." Patrick thinks for a second about wht Keith had said abut Booster's knowlede of the future coming and going. The problem is that he is not from the future. Despite how far ahead his world is it was the same year it is now. There is only one good reason he can think of for the problems with his memeories and his behavior being as off book as it has been. Something he can't put Keith through, clone degridation. It happens with clones of metahumans often, but being 100% human it was thought it would not happen to him but...that was not counting the fact that his father did splice a small amount of his own DNA into the mix. That and the effects of the Negative Zone portal explosion had to be the reason, and if he was going tos lowly go insane and then fall apart on a cellular level Pat is not going to let it happen in front of Keith. "You have a chance to actually make something of yourself.""

"... Patrick..."

The young man doesn't know how to react fully. His eyes are suddenly full of tears he stubbornly refuses to let fall.

"Shouldn't.. should I be the one to make that decision? Wrap me up in chains. I belong with you-- I'll go anwyhere with you... please, don't go." He stops speaking for a second, and then says "... please, stay..."

Patrick shakes his head. "No. You are better off without me without...this is the way it should be." He is inside the suit, his face hidden away bu were he not then Keith would see the tears in his eyes. THe effect Keith has had on him is like a spell. Only time will tell if he could ever break that spell that Keith caused just by being Keith. Without him, wihtout the desire to cling to him he may be able to put his whole mind and all his efforts into returning to his own world. With hope nd prayer he might be able to make it back to his own world, at least if he dies of the clone degridation there then Keith will be spared knowing how horrible it will be. "I am sorry." He says before he turns off the bits of his suit that let him cling to walls and drops. His arms snap outwards and the flaps connecting body and limbs sprad out letting him catch air and glide. If he stayed, if he heard more he might not have the strength to not stay.

Vorpal stands up, calling out to Patrick as the red and gold figure drops and then glides away.

He would never make it to the apartment in time. Not before Patrick got there, and then left with whatever he wanted to take.

Provided he hadn't done that already before coming here.

The cat lets himself fall to his knees, looking at the city all around him, which suddenly strikes him like a huge abyss threatening to close up.

"... but I love you."

There were no eyes up here, only the breeze and a great expanse of nothingness punctuated by dots of light that did little to combat the paralyzing ache that gripped him.

If he returned to the apartment, there would be no Patrick. There'd be no stir-fry, no movies, no after-work conversation. The life that Patrick had brought to the apartment, to his life, would be gone with the one man who had been able to understand him.

He'd come to love Patrick for whom he was, even if the clone himself didn't seem to know it.

Up here, with no eyes to see him, he could allow himself the weakness of tears, and so he allows himself to cry.

Slowly getting to his feet, he knows already he's not going back to the apartment. Not tonight. He can't walk inside yet and face the void. it was 'their' place.

The old warehouse was still there, in the Bronx. And that is the direction in which Keith travels, once tears have run their course and his throat is raw. Warehouse, to sleep. Morning, to patrol. Food, to eat, and back to the warehouse. Rinse, repeat. As he floats in the air, he catches a glimpse of the construction crews putting together the arena for tomorrow night's live concert show. He had planned to ask Patrick to come with him to see it with him from the audience.