"Yup. The Fill line is busted."
Ben Parker watched as his nephew looked at the pipes with a critical eye before declaring straight away.
Ben raised an eyebrow at that.
"How are you so sure?"
The familiar glint of analysis in his nephew's eyes made the old man smile as the teenager explained.
"Well, there is too much water for it to be the Condenser tray or the heat exchange."
"Hm. That makes sense. Can you fix it?"
Peter grinned.
"Sure thing. Just need to make a quick run to the Hardware store."
"What? Don't worry about it then-"
"Nah! I'll just go get it."
"But you just got back-"
"Uncle Ben, I got this."
At the reassuring tone from his nephew, the older man finally relented.
As Peter happily jogged out of the house, he moved to the kitchen and plopped down in the chair, watching his wife make Spaghetti and Meatballs.
".....You think something happened?"
His wife did not even stop as she answered his question.
"You mean how he seems more active and has a pep in his step today?"
"Yeah."
"I guess he woke up on the right side of the bed?"
"I'm serious, though."
May Parker turned off the stove and sat down opposite her husband, showing that she was just as worried as her husband despite her words.
"It's a good thing, right? That he is so happy?"
"Yeah. But still, I wonder what made him so happy."
".....He wasn't happy when he came down, remember?"
Ben fell silent at those words as he recalled the morning.
When May had called Peter down for breakfast, the boy had responded and behaved exactly how he would on any other day.
But being who they were, the couple instantly spotted the difference when they got a proper look at Peter.
That unsure hunch that every teenager has was gone. Instead, he held himself with a subconscious strength, with his head held high.
The way he walked quietly also changed. Instead, he walked with steady and sure steps, as if nothing could shake him.
When leaving for school, he even left behind his favourite skateboard. Something he never does.
But most importantly, his eyes.
That familiar warmth was still there, and so was the love that they knew he carried for them. But beneath them, Ben saw something that chilled him to the core.
A bone-chilling coldness that he had only ever seen in the eyes of his fellow soldiers in the army and himself shortly after he came back home from the campaign when he was young.
Right then and there, the couple knew that something was wrong. However, being the considerate parents they were, they did not press him for details.
And given the way he was behaving now, it seemed like the right decision.
Because Ben could no longer see that coldness in his eyes anymore.
He continued staring out of the window as he spoke.
"He found Richard's old briefcase. The one he bought from Mary."
May stiffened up at those words as she looked at her husband with worried eyes.
She knew how much Peter missed his parents and how desperately he sought anything that could serve as their memory in his younger years.
"What did he say?"
"Nothing."
"...What?"
Ben smiled wryly at his wife's shock.
"He said nothing. He looked at it, said 'Cool. I'll take it up to my room to look at for a bit' and then concentrated back on the piping."
"You told him it was his father's?"
"I sure did. Still nothing."
"...That's odd."
"Yeah."
Ben smiled as he thought about that incident.
"Maybe you were right all those years ago. Time does heal all wounds."
May held her husband's hand in her own with a smile while suppressing her tears.
This was the greatest news that the couple had heard for a long time. Because this meant that Peter had finally stopped living in the memory of parents that are no longer there and was now looking to the future like a young man his age should.
Looking at her husband's worried look, May's eyes sparkled as she pointed her spatula at the box of bowling trophies.
"Now, if you are done moping about our nephew. Go take that filthy box out of my kitchen."
"Hey! That's not filthy junk!"
May smirked and got back to cooking as Ben grumbled.
"I think Peter got his mischief from you."
"Enough complaining. Get back to clearing out the basement before I call in the plumbers."
"For the last time! Plumbers don't fix appliances! Besides, Pete's got it!"
The old couple got back to their usual bickering, forgetting all about the serious matter.
—————————————————————————-
Here is a question for you.
It's 2007. Uber is not a thing yet, and people still rely on good old taxies for travel.
In such a situation, what is a guy holding a few replacement pipes, some replacement electronic components, and some hearty junk food supposed to do to get home?
Quite simple, actually.
I rode the skateboard with practiced ease and navigated the pavement, keeping an eye on my surroundings with my training and keeping a firm grip on my Paranatural energies, ready to engage them at a moment's notice should the worst ever happen.
With a bunch of pipes in my left hand and a bag full of some goodies and food in my right, I easily rode past the pedestrians and made sure to look both ways before crossing the road.
Given that this is New York, there is no shortage of idiots behind the wheel in most cases, so it pays to be attentive. It was a harsh lesson I learned in my first life, given how I died, which was further enforced during my second life at the FBC.
To be fair, this New York is slightly different from the New York I remember. The streets are slightly different, and some alleys that I remember to be shortcuts lead to dead ends here, while the opposite is sometimes true.
But overall, the people and the city are still very familiar to me, even without relying on the old Peter's memories.
And boy, do I depend a lot on that intelligence and memories.
In my first life, I was a common private employee who chased money all his life. Nothing special to write home about.
In my second life, I was a field agent of the FBC. Later on, in a short few months, I earned my stripes and rose in ranks to lead my own team in the field just a few months before Jesse's arrival at the Oldest House.
By the time she arrived and things went to hell, I was a seasoned soldier and agent. Competent enough to fight by her side for the short few days before I ended up stranded in Slidescape-36.
But this life? In this life, I am a goddamed genius.
Seriously, the kind of intellect that I possess now is nothing short of extraordinary. I knew Peter Parker was supposed to be a very intelligent character in the comics and the movies, but I did not think it would be this exaggerated.
Especially when I view it from the perspective of my old life. The differences in how my mind now comprehends things and analyzes them as easily as breathing are truly spooky.
It was thanks to this intelligence that I was able to deduce so quickly that the Fill Line of the refrigerator was broken in our basement without even needing to conduct any kind of investigation.
'Maybe I should take advantage of this intelligence to build some wealth and give Uncle Ben and Aunt May a nice retirement while securing my own future as well?'
Ideas formed in my mind as I thought about all those things.
But those are all for the future.
Just like that briefcase from my father that I uncovered this morning in the basement.
The moment I saw that briefcase, memories old and new rushed in, telling me exactly what was in there.
From the memories of this life, I remember it to be something that Richard Parker, my father, always kept close to him. Even at home, he would always hide it away from view in one of his secret places.
As a child, I never knew why he was so obsessed with that bag and why he did not take it with him when he left me with Uncle Ben and Aunt May.
But now, with the context of my memories from my first life, I knew the exact reason why he did what he did.
In that bag is a file that leads to a whole mess of things that I really don't want to get involved with, but I know damn well that my curiosity will not allow me to leave it alone.
But, right now, I am not in the mood to deal with that nonsense. Not to mention that I lack the knowledge required to even utilize the groundbreaking secrets hidden within it. And there is no way I am going to let anyone else in the world know about the existence of that file or the knowledge it has.
I've seen what happens with advanced knowledge falls into the hands of the wrong people. (The number of rogue agents and fledgling organizations that use Altered Items and OOPs that I had to put down with my team is a testament to that.)
So, that damned formula and everything else that it entails can wait. Right now, I am more focused on enjoying this life. (It's been barely a day since I came here, damnit! I am not ready to deal with PLOT!)
With those thoughts, I rode away on my skateboard.
Spaghetti and Meatballs await!
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