𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑 | ❝ i'm here to make sure you don't kill us all. ❞ in which grayson moreno is sent to keep an eye on peter parker after the death of his mentor. 𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐒: 𝐈𝐍𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐓𝐘 𝐖𝐀𝐑 - 𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐑-𝐌𝐀𝐍: 𝐍𝐎 𝐖𝐀𝐘 𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄 | �...
GRAY OFTEN WONDERED what percentage of his traits were hereditary.
His hair, his skin, his eyes. The way his voice softened when he spoke Spanish and the way his words twisted into the slightest accent in times when he didn't even realize it. The way he never perfected long division but learned to roundhouse kick after an hour. The way he could remember lyrics and phrases and the tone of which people spoke, but often had to rely on muscle memory for exactly what he had to do. His sharp jawline and slender hands that never stopped fiddling, and his messy hair and feminine eyelashes. Essentially, him as a person derived from people he couldn't even remember. A product of factors that still existed but didn't hold a prominent place in his mind.
And then there was the only side of things. The way he scrunched his nose and rolled his eyes whenever people that he didn't like spoke. The way that he held a certain sense of superiority in his thoughts; causing him to often wonder why others couldn't see how his opinion was obviously correct. The way he laughed when he was uncomfortable and looked for answers even when they were already present. The way his gaze was always drifting to meet the eyes of someone who understood him. Who taught him to be who he was.
And lately, he couldn't find that gaze.
But he knew that all of those traits could converge and force him to focus on one thing. The worst case scenario. The wreckage; or perhaps the aftermath, of every event that pans in his life. Gray had grown too familiar with the erratic beating of his own heart, and the way it made his throat hurt and his eyes burn. Anxious, suspecting, a boy who observes possibilities instead of facts.
But sometimes, the facts are hard to ignore. Especially when they are engulfing statues and blowing up in flames directly in front of your face.
The Elemental was so close to him that Gray felt uncomfortable heat smothering his skin. He tapped the side of the mask, causing the bottom half of it to cover his mouth and nose; allowing him to breathe comfortably. His eyes darted across the civilians screaming and hurrying away, and exhaled sharply. "The thing is literally right on my ass, what am I supposed to do?"
"You know what to do, Specter." Beck said in his earpiece, and Gray resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He stepped into the middle of the large open space, glancing over his shoulders at the hundreds of people yelling and struggling to run away.
"Right," Gray mumbled, shaking out his arms. "Crowd control."
The Elemental roared, smashing its hand onto a parked car. Flames were spreading faster than disease; but Gray remembered the tip about metal. He outstretched his hand, feeling the pull of gravity on his fingers as he sent the car skidding away.
