Chapter Text
Earth 427
January, 2021
“What do you think life would be like?” Claire Osborn asked her best friend and fake boyfriend, Alistair Smythe, one night in their freshman year of high school, when Alistair was over for a sleepover, “If we weren’t… I dunno—”
“An Osborn and a Smythe?” Alistair suggested.
“Exactly.”
“If we weren’t filthy rich nepo babies?”
Claire threw her head back onto her pillow, trying not to be too loud as she laughed.
“Exactly.”
She rolled over, facing Alistair, lying on his crimson sleeping bag on the floor with a lavender pillow graciously donated from Claire’s lush bed, staring up at the ceiling of her bedroom. She shifted over, patting the area next to her in bed. Alistair let out a sigh as he hoisted himself onto her bed, joining her above the covers.
“I think… we could be who we wanted.”
Claire looked at him for a moment, her cheek resting on her hands, her large blue eyes staring into his deep brown ones, his dark skin shining in the moonlight streaming through Claire’s bedroom window.
“Yeah… Do you think we would still be best friends?”
Alistair took his turn of contemplative silence.
“Honestly? Probably not–” Claire laughed in fake offense and reached for the fuzzy throw pillow behind her. “But! Hey—stop hitting me, I wasn’t done—Buuuuut! I like to think that we still would have found each other anyway. Something tells me I couldn’t escape you in any universe.”
Claire hit him with her decorative pillow again. Honestly, she didn’t see the point in all the extra uncomfortable pillows on her bed, but they did make for good hitting-Alistair pillows.
“I get what you mean. Without being our parents’ children, we likely wouldn’t have been in the right circumstances to have met. But yeah, I like to think that I still would have talked to you in high school. Unless my alternate-universe parents decided to send me to public school. Or yours.”
Alistair gave a noise of agreement. “We wouldn’t be dating, though.”
“We aren’t dating now—”
“You know what I mean. Fake dating. To appease our parents,” Alistair turned away to stare at the ceiling again, arms folded carefully on his stomach, “I could be dating who I want to.”
“‘Who you want to?’ Who would you want to be dating? Obviously not me, but like—”
“Wren Palmer.”
A beat of silence fell in the room.
“Like, the… the sophomore boy in our geometry class?”
“And my gym class, yeah.”
“Ali—”
“Yeah. I am. Gay. I think. To be fair, I’ve never kissed a guy, but—but I think I would.”
“Oh.”
Another, more uncomfortable beat of silence.
“Okay.”
“Okay?”
“Yeah. Okay. I’m happy for you.”
“You are?”
“Yeah. I think the stuff the Church talks about—It’s not all right, you know?”
Alistair sat up on his elbow, turning back to Claire. “Woah, Claire Osborn questioning the Church? Who are you?”
“Shut up!” Poor pillow can’t catch a break, “I mean, like… they talk about stuff from the Bible, but like, it says ‘Love thy neighbor,’ but they are actively like, ‘meh gay people are going to hell, trans people are going to hell, blah blah blah’ like girl, that’s not very ‘love thy neighbor’ of you.”
Alistair laughed loudly before being told to shush since it was nearing one in the morning, and Amelia Osborn had gone to bed hours ago.
“If you wake up my mother, she will kill you!”
Alistair stifled another laugh before a far more pleasant—though still a little stiff—silence filled the air again.
“So… we’re chill?”
“Of course we’re chill.”
“Good.”
“Um… on the topic of life-changing secrets… well, since you told me that one, and that was pretty big, I guess I should return the favor…” Claire started nervously.
Alistair sat up attentively.
“But you can’t laugh and call me crazy because I’m not. I wish I were crazy. I think this would all be easier if I were crazy—”
“Claire–”
“Okay, sorry. Um. So, like, you read comic books, right?”
Alistair nodded, unsure where this was going.
“Um. I think—well, no, I know—I have superpowers. And it is freaking me out.”
Alistair stared at her. He really wanted to laugh and call her crazy. Luckily for Claire’s ego, Alistair was a really good best friend.
“Okay. Um. What?? Please, I am begging you to elaborate.”
Claire sat up and sighed. “So… you know the night my father disappeared?”
“Jeez, okay, crazy start—um, yeah?”
“I… I had gone to visit him in his lab—”
“The one your mother specifically told you not to bother him in because it was incredibly dangerous for a child?”
“Yes, now be quiet.” Alistair raised his hands in defeat, then motioned for her to continue, “Anyway… yes. That lab. He had been gone all day, and my mother had just yelled at me for something, so I went to find him. I stole my mother’s keycard—”
“Crazy.”
“Alistair–”
“Okay, okay.”
“I took her keycard, whatever, and found my father in his lab. The room was full of these spiders, and it was freezing cold. I think he was trying some experiment on freezing spiders, I don’t know—”
“Astute observation, Dr. Osborn—”
Ignoring Alistair’s comment, Claire continued, “But just as my father noticed me, I felt something crawling on my arm. One of the spiders. I screamed, and I felt an insane pain; I guess it bit me or something, and the next thing I know, I wake up on a stretcher, and my father is nowhere to be seen.”
“Okay, I knew that last part; I was there for that. So you’re saying this spider bit you, and now you have superpowers?? What kind of superpowers?”
“I can freeze things with my hands. Create sheets of ice, freeze objects, whatever.”
Alistair laughed. He couldn’t help it. Claire scowled.
“Seriously?”
“No, sorry, I’m not laughing at you, but like, you, junior national champion figure skater, got ice super powers? Insane coincidence.”
Claire rolled her eyes and grabbed the glass of water sitting on her bedside table. She cradled it in her hands, and it began crystallizing from her touch, freezing to a solid instantly.
Alistair sat there stunned.
“Shit, okay.”
“Language.”
“Not the time, girl.”
“Still.”
“Um, okay. First of all, way to show me up, this way crazier than me liking boys; Second, this is wild, my best friend has superpowers! Do you need a guy-in-the-chair, because I can so be your guy-in-the-chair—”
“Ali, woah, okay, I have no idea what that means, but I’m glad you’re enthusiastic.”
Alistair stared at the blonde. He forgot that not everyone was a secret geek like he was. He shook his head and hopped off the bed, lunging for his backpack.
“Okay, I brought these in case you fell asleep before me and I got bored,” He said, pulling a stack of comic books from his bag, then climbing back onto the bed next to Claire, “So, like, a lot of superheroes—which is what you’re going to be—have a ‘guy-in-the-chair,’ which is like the sidekick best friend that’s the hero’s eyes and ears and helps with like the behind-the-scenes stuff.” Alistair started handing Claire comic books about random superhero teams like The Avalanchers, featuring corny characters such as Cryon Man, Captain Cold-Air (which… she didn’t even know what that one meant at all), The Abominable Hulk, and others she also didn’t get. There was one female character who was pretty but also objectively wrong from a proportional standpoint.
“And you just happened to have these ice-themed superhero comics on hand?”
“What? You usually fall asleep early, and I get bored! And yeah, there’s a substantial amount of ice-related characters because of global cooling, keep up. Hell—”
“Language—”
“Jeez, H-E-Double-Hockey-Sticks, this is so not the time, anyway, that’s probably why your dad was experimenting on frozen spiders anyway? But like, how have you not heard of The Avalanchers? They’re like super famous comics.”
“I’m not a nerd, I dunno.”
“Girl, you are literally top of the school as a freshman, so I don’t want to hear it. And I’m a geek. You’re a nerd.”
“No, I think you’re also a nerd, you literally worked for my dad—”
“I’m going to get you, anyway… This is sick! Have you thought of like a gimmick or persona or something? You’ll need a cool superhero name, of course.”
“Woah, slow down buddy. I don’t know about being a superhero…” Claire shifted on the bed, uncomfortable at the thought of more responsibilities, “I-I don’t think I should be in charge of saving anyone or anything.”
“Claire. You have superpowers, and you’re, as far as I’m aware, like the only one. You can’t just ignore that.”
Claire took a breath, swinging her legs around to hang off the side of the bed opposite Alistair, back to the teen. “I can, and I will. I mean, what can I even do? I’m one person, Ali. So what, I can freeze things, and I can suddenly lift a car over my head, and I flipped over a bicyclist out to get me? I’m not stopping crazy space aliens or interdimensional threats like these guys,” She tried to reason, gesturing to the comic books between her and Alistair. “I don’t need to, what? Fight crime? Isn’t that what the police are for?”
Alistair stared at Claire before shuffling over to her back, wrapping his arms around her, resting his chin on her shoulder.
“Claire. First, you know the NYPD is shit, and are definitely not dealing with criminals. At least not the right ones. And honestly, having a crime-fighting vigilante would probably do a lot of good. Second, girl, you did not mention the super strength and agility. That was definitely an important thing to note. Why were you lifting a car anyway??”
Claire hesitated. “There was a kitten trapped under it… It was okay, but it ran away before I could check for any real damages.” She finished with a frown.
Alistair squeezed her a little bit, “You wanted to pet that kitten, didn’t you?”
“Yeah.” She responded with a sigh.
“See what I mean, though? You have such a good heart! You could be a hero! Think of all the kittens in Central Park stuck in trees! You could save them! Also, people from crime, but whatever. You’re in the student council. You clearly care about others. Why not make a real difference?”
“I… I don’t know, Ali. It’s just—It’s a lot. I shouldn’t have said anything.”
Alistair let go and joined Claire’s side, bumping her shoulder with his. “Hey. It’s a lot, yes, but like… With great power comes great responsibility, you know?”
Claire looked at him, raising a light eyebrow, “Where did you get that? One of your comic books?”
“Off the dome, baby.”
“No shot, that was too good.” Claire pushed Alistair away, laughing.
Eventually, their laughter subsided, and Claire heard a creak of floorboards down the hallway from her mother’s room. She tensed suddenly, staring intensely at the door, looking for any sign her mother was coming this way. After no shadows appeared at her door, she released the breath she didn’t even realize she was holding. After another beat of weary silence, Claire spoke again, barely above a whisper, “Fine. I’ll do it.”
“Really?” Alistair whispered excitedly.
“Yes. Maybe. I don’t know.”
“I’ll take it! I was thinking about, like, maybe going for your figure skater schtick, but maybe, and I’m just spitballing here, going for like a spider gimmick as well to call back to your origin?”
“Wouldn’t that be kind of obvious as to who I am, though? Like, wouldn’t people figure my secret identity out pretty quickly?”
“Superhero logic, it’s fine. Don’t worry about it. And obviously we could go with lavender as your color palette, because I don’t think you wear any other color—”
Claire and Alistair laughed quietly to themselves as they brainstormed costume and name ideas.
By the morning, the two had a thoroughly thought-out superhero persona for Claire: Ice-Weaver.