the-fantastic-mister-richards:
Reed carried his plate to the sofa and sat down, though the conversation quickly made him forget about the pizza in his hand. He sat it aside and furrowed his brows, his expression taking on a characteristic seriousness. He’d made mistakes, and plenty of them, and he knew that he’d hurt people he was close to..but he wasn’t there to be told he didn’t care. There were a lot of things that he was good at, great at, brilliant at, and feelings weren’t one of them. Never had been. He muddled through and realized things too late, but it wasn’t because he didn’t care.
For a moment, he thought about saying that he and Sue had been split up for a year. If Ben didn’t know that already, it wasn’t the time for it. It’d look like he wanted sympathy, or that he was trying to change the subject. Well, maybe he’d find out sometime.
“Now that’s not fair. Not for a second. I didn’t pass that law, and I tried to appeal it every way short of telling them to stick it where you think my head’s been this whole time. I dissolved the team because we were never vigilantes. We worked with the law, right alongside it, to help. How were we supposed to keep on doing that when it told us to stop existing?” It wasn’t as if he’d liked it, it wasn’t even like he’d thought it was right, but Reed had always been the type to try to learn a system and then change it rather than outright fight it like an enemy. He just hadn’t found a way to do much changing, this time.
As he watched Ben eat, he shook his head. “You decided that, Ben. We’ve been friends for a long time, and you should know that you’ve always got a place with me. You took off, and I guess you decided all of the rest of this for me, didn’t you? Well, you’re wrong.” And he wasn’t going to be shy about telling him, either. Reed didn’t need to be told about himself. He knew what his flaws were, and abandoning his friends wasn’t one of them. “I can’t speak for Johnny or even for Sue,” though he felt sure their answers would be much the same, “but it never had a thing to do with whether or not I cared. If I’d known you needed help, I’d have helped. I don’t remember you reaching out.” He wasn’t trying to lay blame, exactly, but he wouldn’t take on every ounce of it either, even if he deserved a lot of it.
“Wow... there it is. So I guess ya finally got sick’a runnin’ after The Thing when he’s had one’a his tantrums, huh?” Ben said, nodding to himself as he put his pizza aside. "An’ wadda ya mean, ‘ya didn’t know I needed help?’... When have I ever not needed ya help, Reed? We bin there fer each other since college an’ ya know me betta than anyone, but I never figured tha’ I’d have’ta ask fer yer help.”
Despite the potential for harshness in his words, Ben’s tone was more melancholy than angry. He might look like a monster, but Ben Grimm was very much human underneath his nigh indestructible rocky hide, with a big heart to match his size.
“No one tells ya how’ta deal wit’ this stuff, do they...? It ain’ like Flight School, no one hands ya a trainin’ manual on day one tha’ says ‘Here’s wha’ ta do if ya exposed t’insane levels o’ Cosmic Radiation’,” Ben snorted, pushing himself up out of the chair.
“Truth is, Stretch... I’ve made a whole lotta mistakes these past few years, an’ I’m only jus’ now gettin’ back on my feet. I know tha’ I can’t lay all’a tha’ blame at yer door, but I reckon I probably wouldn’ta made such a damn fool outta myself if I’d had my family around me. Ya wanna beer t’go wit’ tha’ pie?"
