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Ben knows there's a lot he's forgotten.
He didn't know that, before. He didn't realize there was something wrong with his brain, thought he was perfectly fine. Didn't notice the gaps in his memory. Didn't notice the changes in his personality. None of it stood out to him, none of it mattered.
That's the real kick of it, isn't it. That he had to be told that there was something wrong with his brain. Had to be told what was being done to him, couldn't figure it out himself. His entire life being stolen from him, his brain being turned around, his memories changed to suit the needs of the people who wanted to use him. And he never fucking noticed. Fucking Doc Ock noticed before he did.
A more malleable morality, they said about him. Personality less defined. A hunger for meaning that makes him easily manipulated.
That's what they think about him. The Beyond Corporation, the people he thought cared about him. They took one look at him and saw how easy he would be to manipulate. Saw nothing but a useful tool.
And the real kicker of it all is...that they're not wrong. They used him easily, got him on their side with nothing more than a few kind words and then kept him where they wanted him by twisting his head around to suit their needs. And he still, still, wouldn't have known a damn thing about it if his fucking enemy hadn't figured it out and told him about it. What world does he live in, that someone who hates him is more honest with him than the people who were supposed to be his allies?
He doesn't know who to trust. He doesn't know what to do. He hates himself for still feeling the urge to go to Maxine and ask her to explain. To ask the woman who is responsible for his torture to explain it all, to make it better. He hates himself for how much he's craving her reassurance.
Hates himself for having no idea how much she's stolen from him.
It's a loss like Ben doesn't even know how to describe. He has memories that are just gone, aspects of himself washed away. Molded into a better shape to fit Beyond's needs, Maxine's needs. He doesn't even know who he was before he was this. What was he like? What did he enjoy? How different was he before they sunk themselves into his brain?
He can see it now that he knows. He can spot the gaps, the years he doesn't remember. The people who have now been wiped from his mind. All he truly knows about himself, he realizes, is that his name is Ben Reilly, he is Spider-Man, he's a clone of the original, and he's loyal to the Beyond Corporation.
Wait, fuck, no. No, he's not loyal to them, they made him loyal to them. This isn't who he was, before them. He knows that. He knows that. He doesn't—he doesn't know who he was loyal to, but he knows it was...someone else. It had to be. Because why would Beyond fucking brainwash him if he was already loyal? That doesn't make any sense. No, they forced this. They made him this way.
And oh, Ben hates them for that. Hates them for the fact that he still feels a loyalty to them, that they dug their claws in so deep that even now he's fighting the urge to report in. Hates Maxine Fucking Danger for being so fucking good at her job that Ben is—is desperate for her reassurance. He wants her to make everything better.
What a fucking joke.
He...doesn't know where he is. Shit, how long has he been—he's been inside his head, he has no idea where he—
Ben blinks, his eyes focusing for the first time in...he doesn't know how long. He's in a room that feels familiar, with a large wall of windows and abstract art on the walls. He's sitting in a chair in front of a desk, and on the other side of the desk is—
Eyes flaring wide, Ben sucks in a sharp breath, instantly getting to his face and backing away a few steps. Maxine watches him placidly, unbothered, a slight smile curling the edges of her mouth.
"Something the matter?" she drawls, raising a superior eyebrow at him.
He stares at her. He doesn't know when he got here, doesn't know how he got here. He doesn't know where he was before this to begin with. His memory is so spotty, practically in pieces. They've ruined him. They've wiped him and changed him so many times that it's like all of him is collapsing inward. He doesn't know what's happening right now. He hates them he hates himself he hates whoever made him in the first place and put him in this situation.
"You took my memories," Ben says, nearly choking on the words. He feels like he's falling to pieces and there she sits, so perfectly in control. It makes this all feel so much more horrific. How can she be so calm when he's losing every piece of himself? How can she watch that happen and not care?
"To be fair," Maxine says, amused, "I'm not the first."
Ben...doesn't even know what she means by that, and that's extraordinarily terrifying. Is she telling the truth, has Ben been through something like this before? Has he had his mind fucked with before Beyond got their hands on him? He...he doesn't remember, he doesn't know. Doesn't know anything.
How many people have screwed him up? How much of Ben is actually himself?
"Come on," Maxine says, clicking her tongue, "why are you so upset, Ben? You're a hero. You're Spider-Man! That's what you've always wanted."
Yes, it is. As far back as Ben can remember, he's yearned to be Spider-Man, to be worthy like...like someone else is, fuck, who was Spider-Man? Whose clone is he? The name's on the tip of his tongue, it's right there, but he can't reach it. It slides out of his thoughts like smoke.
Is...is his desire to be Spider-Man actually his desire? Is that something he felt, or is it something someone—any of the people who have twisted his brain, apparently—implanted in him to get what they wanted from him? Hell, maybe it was even Maxine herself. Maybe Beyond instilled this wish inside of him.
He doesn't know he doesn't know he doesn't know.
Ben's practically a stranger to himself. It's a disorienting realization.
"Take a seat," Maxine says, still looking perfectly unbothered. "Let's talk, Ben. You've been doing such excellent work for us. No need to stop now."
Ben clenches his jaw. No. No. No, he might be struggling to separate his wants from Maxine's, might still be fighting the urge to do whatever she says, but he has enough of himself—whoever that is—to stand against it. Beyond-sponsored or not, Ben is Spider-Man. And now that he knows what's happening, he won't let it go on. He can't.
"I'm gonna find everything you took from me," Ben promises, hands curling into fists when she only blinks idly at him. "I'm gonna get it all back."
"Right," Maxine snorts. "Go for it, Champ. I'll be here when you come to your senses."
Ben leaves before she can make any moves. He doesn't trust that she'd actually just let him go; she's not the type, and she's put a lot of time and money into him. There's no way she's just letting him leave.
Nonetheless, Ben gets out of the building without being stopped. No one follows him. There's not a word of protest from the Beyond Corp.
Ben isn't stupid enough to think that's really the end of it. Maxine surely has something up her sleeve, some play Ben isn't seeing yet. She isn't one to give up easily, and she's too damn smart to not have something cooking. Especially when she simply knows so, so much more than Ben does about everything that's happened—even about Ben himself. How could Ben possibly compete with that?
But for now, for the moment, Ben is free. For the first time in...Ben genuinely doesn't even know, he's his own. He's in command of his life.
And he's going to bask in that for as long as he possibly can.