1Prompt: Soulmates AU in which you receive either a soulmark or an enemy. If you are lucky, that is.
Hope someone likes this. Re-posting from Ao3. I'm actually very prouf of how this one ended. Just remember, every single repetition is made on purpose.
and the words escape his mouth like a river flows
Flash was seven years old when his Mark appeared on his arm.
He was having breakfast, and it felt like a little syringe was pinching him. Eugene tried to hide his arm from his father, and fortunately for him, the man didn't notice a thing.
(Not like he would.)
His father took him to school and warned to behave. Eugene nodded, even when there was no need to warn him, for he was a good boy (mostly).
It wasn't until he was safely concealed in his classroom that he dared to look at his forearm.
'Oh, would you look at it! If it isn't Puny Parker!'
He frowned. He knew a Parker, but never ever heard of Puny. Then he assumed that whoever that was, it had to be another Parker than the one he knew.
"G'day, Flash!" called a voice from behind him. He turned and saw big brown eyes looking at him, like they knew his dirty little secret.
"Will you stop? Geez." Even as the months passed by, it seemed this kid—Pete, his friend—wouldn't budge. The brown-haired stuck out his tongue.
"Was your own fault I do, ya know" and because he couldn't find an answer that could satisfy him and contradict Parker, he stood silent. He wouldn't have time to answer anyway, because the teacher entered the classroom.
When break time was finally there they both were still sitting beside each other. Parker was unusually closer to him.
Internally, he was fearing that Parker might know about the inscription inside his wrist.
No, there was no way in the whole world he could know. How could he, anyways? The thought of him being able to see what was written inside his wrist wasn't as frightening as he told himself it had to be.
And yet…
"Let go, Peter. I can't breathe."
The boy let go of him, albeit reluctantly. There was something about him, Flash remembers himself thinking the first time he saw him.
Perhaps indeed Peter could be his soulmate. Then again, Puny seemed like a nick everything but gentle. He was confused. So, so confused. He decided that time would tell.
After all, he was only seven years old.
Seeing his father publicly roast two soulmates that were men opened his eyes for him in a way he wished it shouldn't had: There was no way in hell that his soulmate was a man.
For who could be so cruel with him, that they destined him to be a "fucking fag", as his father so gently said?
They were still relatively close when Peter grew his own Mark, He told Flash about it the same moment he had it, like he was talking about winning the lottery.
"I still don't know if it's my enemy or my soulmate. But I know for sure it's a he."
There was no way in hell that he could have someone in the whole world hating him. Or that could hate him. Not with those big doe eyes at least.
"Is that so?" he replied forcefully. Peter showed him his wrist, even when they both knew Flash couldn't see it.
"Yeah, it says 'I don't know, but there's something off with him'. See?" Flash nodded, and continued doodling cars in his notebook. "You think you'll have a soulmate or an enemy?"
"I don't know. Don't wanna think about it." Flash was being entirely sincere in that statement.
And they never talked about their own Marks.
Flash stared at the mirror in his bathroom, and then at his mother, who was at the moment preparing the bubbles.
"Bath's ready, Eugene."
He expects her to call him Flash. She's seen Peter call him a thousand times that name. He just couldn't understand why he wanted to be called that way.
He entered the bath, and stared at the bubbles.
When he was ten, he told his father he wanted to play football. He looked so proud of him and bought the necessary equipment, even if the night before flash was pretty sure he had beaten his mother when he thought him asleep.
After he was finished with his first practice, Parker was waiting for him at his locker door.
"Heard you're playing football. Congrats."
His words sound insincere, albeit his smile isn't. It was decidedly awkward, Flash thought, staring at him after spending so many months without speaking to each other and being congratulated on something that wasn't even an achievement.
"Thanks." It was so long ago, that he wasn't sure if it had been him, or if it had been Peter who grew apart, but both were to blame.
Peter never grew out of his cute-sy and tiny physique. Flash teased him about it, and Peter took it as light jokes at first, when they still had some kind of bond.
But then came Puny Parker and the teenager knew for sure he wasn't joking anymore.
Flash just wanted to get rid of the thoughts that told him he looked adorable. He told himself that if he made enough damage to the boy, he would hate him, and then they'd be enemies.
(And foremost, he told himself that if he tried hard enough and said a plethora of times that Puny Parker was a loser, he would believe it too.
Because he just found him charming.)
(God if he wasn't fucked up.)
By the time they reached High School they both had developed a rivalry of sorts, in which Flash did most of the dirt playing.
Once Peter asked him why did he do that. He answered by shoving him into the locker.
He was having bad grades. He tried to pretend in classroom that he didn't care about getting a C or two, but in his house he tried to avoid the topic as much as possible.
Even with all his effort to hide it, his father always ended finding it out. Fortunately for him, Football training was improving his stamina, and now he was not only able to endure his own share of beating. He also was able to shield his mother from his father's fist.
He was fifteen the first time he saw Spider-Man.
That same night his father entered the house after some heavy visit to the bar. He could sense it in his wondrous walk, he could smell it on his breath.
Flash tried to stop him from seeing his mother. He whispered "you're pitiful" before receiving a punch in the jaw. He clenched it and returned the furious look his father gave him with a cold gaze of his own. "Pathetic."
And the air was out of his lungs.
He didn't mind the beating, honestly. He just needed to keep him there in the living room, he needed to tire him before he was sober enough to remember he was going after his wife and not his son.
He didn't notice the moment the man took a knife and shove it into his guts. He felt the blood pouring out of it, and he realized he had been stabbed.
The masked hero arrived at that same moment. He broke the window and took the knife out of the man's grip. He took apart both of them and with one strategic blow he knocked the guy out.
"You ok, kid?"
His voice was strangled, but Flash wasn't lucid enough to argue about tones and voices.
"Think I need stitches. Please, call my mom, she's on the second floor."
This masked man nodded and went to look for the woman. He came back with her seconds later, and as she saw the blood pouring out of his stomach she gasped in horror.
"I'll call an ambulance" she managed to say between her tremors. The man shook his head.
"I'll take him to the hospital. It will be faster this way. You call the police."
Flash found it odd that his mother didn't freak out when the masked man told her he got stabbed. He found it odd that he himself wasn't freaking the hell out.
He was feeling even slightly dizzy. He couldn't have lost enough blood from just a single stab with a fucking kitchen knife, could he now?
"Hey buddy, stay with me. You'll be all right."
The stranger held him up and hurried through the living room until he reached the door.
Even if he was only half conscious at this point, he recognized a mildly familiar scent coming from this man.
Doctors said he was dizzy because of the shock rather than the blood loss. Whoever else the man that rescued him was, he wasn't there anymore after the doctor was with the stitches and his mom had arrived.
Doctors also said that even if the wound was somewhat deep, it was nothing truly life-threatening. He would just need to take care of his eating habits and a few days' rest.
That and another seven stitches when he tried to stand from the bed.
The police qualified Flash's incident as domestic violence. He tried not to show the policemen the stitches because he didn't want to look like a spoiled brat.
They wouldn't've listened, anyways.
(They however, put a restriction order on his father.)
When he came back to school Liz was the first to ask him what had happened. He said someone tried to rob him, and she completely bought it.
"There's going to be a wrestling match this evening, thought you might be interested" she told him. Flash grinned and thanked her.
The place was crowded, at least for a minor championship. The last round was against a professional and not any weakling amateur, so he guessed the crow was just as excited as they could be.
It was at that moment that Flash saw the last competitor and his mouth fell to the floor.
There was the man who saved him. Or well, the masked man that saved him. Red and blue, running by the name of Spider-Man.
Flash couldn't believe his fucking luck.
(Unlike any other night before, he just didn't decidedly ignore the Mark in his wrist. He stared at it, and wondered how long it'd take for someone to say it so he could fucking hate Fucking Puny Parker in peace.)
(Or Fucking Puny Parker could hate him in peace, whichever came first.)
Even after two years, he marvels at how Gwen Stacy treats him like some kind of older brother.
He remembers himself asking her out once. He didn't feel particularly attracted to her—not in a romantic sense, at least. She asked why and he told her he liked her blue hair lace and needed a tutor that could keep up with him.
They both pretended to date for a few months. To make things interesting, he stayed in her house a couple of nights. He always wondered how Captain Stacy let him stay at his little girl's room being her boyfriend, and Gwen told him that he just knew Flash wouldn't even dare kiss her.
Instead they chatted and chatted until they hadn't brain to talk. Flash, being modest as he was, accepted a pink sleeping bag and slept near the window (pretending it was a soft red and not a pink color).
This day Gwen was in a particularly grey mood. News fly, and he was, too. Parker flew away from most of his classes as usual and Flash took that as a cue for him to reach for him.
His reaction was explosive. It isn't like he expected otherwise, but he still shoved him against the locker with a force no human could have, and certainly not not-so-Puny Parker.
"It feels better, right?" He didn't even— "Your uncle died. I get it" —care about him. He was just doing this— "I'm sorry."
—out of pity.
And Parker just stared at him, dead in the eye, for to full seconds.
And in those two full seconds, Flash traveled back in time. A time in which they both were still friends, a time where Peter didn't hate him.
A time in which he didn't believe that perhaps the idea of Peter being his soulmate wasn't something impossible.
Parker thought that, too in those two seconds, for his eyes gave it away.
He let go of Flash, and he was reminded of the present.
He was reminded of the loss, and the grief and the pain Parker must be going through.
He was reminded that they were friends no more.
He was reminded that he was supposed to hate Parker.
Then why was it so hard to make himself forget about that childish face that told him about his Mark?
(He wanted to be mad at Parker for dating his ex, but he couldn't deny that they were soulmates, and soulmates must be together above all.)
(That same night, he thinks that Parker's scent reminds him of something, someone. The memory is kind of blurry so he shrugs it off and kisses his mom to sleep.)
(He has a nightmare in which his father is able to see his Mark and kills him for being what he couldn't avoid.
He awakes thinking that the wound has reopened, but when he sees it his eyes only meet tender skin, no longer open.
He is scared for the first time ever.)
Parker looks restless every day since the incident with his uncle, but Gwen won't tell him what's happening.
He trusts her word more than his own judgement. And she once said "he's fine, he'll be fine", so he trusts her.
(he has to.)
Then the Lizard happens, and Captain Stacy happens, and Parker seems to think it's his own fault.
They break up and make up in less than a week. After all, soulmates cannot be that long separated. After all, soulmates must be together above all.
Nevertheless, Flash wonders, if Parker barely knew the men and wasn't his own fault anything of these happened, then how would Spider-Man feel?
"Wha'cha doing up here?" Once Spider-Man finds him in a roof, watching the beauty New York has become over the years.
"Feeding pigeons. They seem to like me" he shamelessly lies. He is nervous, because Spider-Man must like, know he is the president of his fan club (let alone the founder). Parker takes his pictures, so he must know for real.
"They are the best of friends sometimes, y'know. They just have eyes for you and your bread."
Despite himself, Flash smiles at this statement.
"Indeed they are."
And despite the awkwardness, Spider-Man frowns at him. At least looks like it. It is hard to tell with his mask on.
"How've you been?"
Flash might as well have dreamt the question. "Been okay, I guess. Why do you ask?"
Spider-Man shrugs. "You were my first attempt at being a hero. I wasn't… dunno I was quite worried that I had done the wrong thing, at dropping you at the hospital and not bothering to look out for you." He was rubbing his neck sheepishly.
This is the closest Flash has seen Spider-Man ever since the incident. He looks so human, and perhaps a little fragile. He looks tired, and Flash is tempted to ask him if it is because of Captain Stacy. He decides against it.
"I think I had that coming. Perhaps I deserved that."
Even through the mask, Flash imagines he is frowning more.
"Nobody deserves a stab in the guts, especially not by the hand of their father."
Flash chuckles. "Well, if you ever heard of what I've done, you'd reconsider. I've made the life of who used to be my friend impossible just because I couldn't tell him the truth about my Mark."
He doesn't have an idea of why Spider-Man suddenly gulps. Instead, he gazes at the horizon. He hopes Spider-Man doesn't try to dig— "Is that so?"
—in.
He tries to shrug it off. To look unaffected.
"Yeah. Told him I hadn't mine, when I received it before him. Didn't want to know what it meant, still don't wanna know."
Truth is he cannot. And the words escape his mouth like a river flows. Spider-Man does not react, or at least is static for a few seconds.
"Do you think that kid might be your soulmate?"
Spider-Man's voice sounds hoarse and obliged. Flash is somehow relieved—he still doesn't know why—he didn't ask something like "are you a faggot or what?" or any other kind of mean words.
It levels the opinion of his father. It lightens something inside him, even if he doesn't know why.
It's not like he want Parker to be his soulmate.
"Don't think so. He just cannot be. I hate him now, he hates me. And I wouldn't want it any other way, but…"
I wish it had been any other else.
He does some weird gesture with his hands that Spider-Man seems to understand. God knows what.
A phone started buzzing. Spider-Man sighs and taps it. He then looks at him, apologetic.
"Gotta go. I have a date."
And of course he'd have a date. He's Spider-Fucking-Man.
Before he leaves Flash all on his own, he says warmly. "Don't be so harsh on yourself. Everybody deserves a second chance."
(but he wants Peter to be.)
(He wants to rewrite everything. Change his father, change his past. He wishes things wouldn't have gone that way and he cries and he wants to die.)
(And he is Eugene Thompson all over again. Because after all those years he finally admits, albeit to his reflection in the bathroom mirror, that he is sad and he feels sorry and he wants oh so badly Peter's forgiveness.)
(Peter's.)
(Peter's.)
(Peter's.)
(And he is back to Flash Thompson again.)
He feels betrayed when Gwen brings Parker to their studying sessions. He pretends he ignores him and concentrates on what she's saying until he finally says "gotta go. Aunt May wants me to throw the trash" in what looks like a language of their own. Gwen, of course, understand the message and tries to teach Flash something he was supposed to have learned already.
Flash feels more comfortable with Parker's ghost, anyways.
(That night, after one year of being saved by Spider-Man, he wonders what might have been, had he not intervened.)
Parker apparently sees back an old friend of his. The Osborn kid. That leaves more time for him and Gwen together, and he tries to say—tries to pretend—he likes it better that way.
Gwen looks so distressed; he does not know what can he do to cheer her up.
He keeps silent and keeps her company and keeps wondering what is she thinking all the while she pretends she doesn't feel abandoned.
It isn't until he embraces her that she confesses she feels scared and misses dearly her father.
He gets angry with Parker, for not being there for Gwen when she needed him the most.
He gets angry with himself, afterwards, for being angry with Parker.
(how dare he.)
The incident with the Lizard still feels unreal. He tries to think that it was a one-time incident, even when he's got this foreboding feeling in his gut it won't be like that at all.
He's walking besides Gwen when he hears it.
"Pete, answer, please. I know you're busy and stuff, but call me back. It's about Harry. I don't know, but there's something off with him."
And Flash ponders whether he should tell her about the phrase or not. Flash wonders if he was supposed to hear that.
He pretends he didn't.
Then the Green Goblin Happens, and Gwen Stacy happens, and Parker seems to think it's his own fault.
(Stupid Puny Parker.)
(Stupid Peter Parker.)
Flash isn't fazed when he skips the funeral of yet another Stacy.
Surprisingly enough, it doesn't rain like in the typical cliché movies. After everyone's said their goodbyes and the body is buried Mrs. Stacy gives him an envelope with Gwen's handwriting.
She thanks him for being such a good friend of hers.
As she walks away Flash wonders if Gwen knew this'd happen.
Indeed she knew.
I'm sorry, Flash.
I know what you'll think. How dare she. I got to be honest with you, I don't even know what is going on, but I know for sure my time is nearing.
How? I never had a soul mark. I know I told you it was Peter, but what I had instead was a date in my wrist. Where it should be lying a phrase, a name, something, there lies a date that is dreadfully coming closer. I hope you have in your heart enough kindness left to forgive me. I know you feel alone, and I know you need me so, but this wasn't to be stopped.
I usually don't fail in my calculations nor suppositions, but as every kind of person, I wish to be wrong on this one. I will not take chances, so I leave this note, so you can understand what's and why's my reason.
These last few years have been difficult to me. You know this. I fear for Peter, and I feel so lost without dad. I hope you don't feel like I do myself when I am here no longer. Move on; believe me when I say that I never regretted anything in my life. Promise you will not go back to what you were, and find your light source. You are intelligent, even if you don't want to admit it.
I know Peter's not my soulmate, but I was so in love with him. He was in love with me too. We both knew this wouldn't last, however. Even if this weren't the last words I wrote, I would have asked him to stop this. He knows who probably is his soulmate, and I pretend on them to get together.
I don't want to overdo this, so I will ask you a last favor.
Please take care of him for me, Eugene.
Indeed she knew.
Spider-Man doesn't show up.
(Neither does Parker.)
(He starts to wonder. What was this city supposed to do without Spider-Man?)
It takes him two months to figure out why the death of one Gwen Stacy is particularly painful for the hero: he was madly in love with her.
It takes him another month to figure the worst part: Gwen did indeed love him back.
They weren't soulmates. He knows that much. Just as Gwen never had a soul mark, Spider-Man had the Mark of his worst enemy.
That didn't stop them from trying.
He stands in front of the Parker household, and ponders if he should go inside and tell Parker he can be his friends.
That he knows and he shouldn't be alone.
(That night, he remembers Spider-Man gasping at the revelation of his life-long secret.
And he realizes he had been so stupid all along.)
Parker is back to school and it couldn't be any more obvious.
"Oh, would you look at it! If it isn't Puny Parker!"
And he just knows it. He had been dreading this moment for longer than a decade. Now that it's here, not that it's real, it doesn't seem antagonizing at all.
He walks towards Parker. The guy's taking some books from the inside of his locker, leaving inside some others. He knows Parker knows he's near, but even so Parker acts as if he hasn't noticed him at all.
"I've been trying to talk to you for a long time."
They haven't spoken for about seven years. Not at least a proper conversation. Not at least like Flash—Eugene—Thompson and Peter Parker, and Flash's never been so afraid as he is at this moment.
(He can hear his heartbeat against his ears, drumming. Thump, thump. Thump, thump.)
And Parker just stares at him for two full seconds, and Flash is reminded of the loss, and the grief and the pain Parker's went through.
And he is reminded of how they used to be friends and how he longed for Parker's forgiveness and how badly he wanted Parker to be his soulmate and—
He feels like Eugene Thompson all over again.
"I'm here now, I guess." Parker doesn't sound mad, not at him.
"Wanted to apologize, for everything—"
With the last bit of courage left inside him, he whispers: "—Pete."
And it's like the last ten years disappeared and went away.
Peter confesses, that same night on Flash's rooftop, that he never meant to save Flash.
"I was so furious at you, I was so stupid and I felt suddenly powerful. I just… didn't understand why you hated me."
Flash wanted to argue, he decided against it, however, seeing Peter hugging his own legs. "I was actually going to beat you. Wait until your mom was asleep and get my revenge. Then I saw your father and heard him call you 'faggot' and everything was clear. He stabbed you and I didn't know what to do but prey you both away. I still somewhat hated what you were, what you had been for me. But I understood."
(And he is back to Flash Thompson again.)
He looked back at Peter. He doesn't remember his father using such a word, he probably whispered it low enough that only Peter and his super-hearing caught it.
"Do you hate me now?"
"I hated what you had become, but I always had the hope someday you might come back to your senses."
It was heart-warming how Peter always had more faith in him than Flash ever had on himself.
"So… about this boy, was he your soulmate or your worst enemy?"
Flash stared at Peter's lips. He always wondered what would be like to kiss his soulmate. Would her lips be soft, tender and if she would kiss him flutter-kisses.
He's kissed Liz and Gwen before, but he knew they would never be his soulmate.
Now he wonders if Peter wants to be kissed.
"He… I think he is my soulmate."
His hand reaches Peter's cheek.
He is eighteen when he finds his soulmate, when he kisses his soulmate.
And the kiss they share, is the best he's ever had.
(his wish came true.)
He looks at Peter and doesn't want to rewrite anything. He doesn't wish for things to have been any other way and he cries of joy and he wants to live a hundred years more.
