[for Mary Jane] Ageing Superhero

[daretodo]

In my line of business, you don't expect to make it to old age. It's dangerous, what I used to do -- still occasionally do, for that matter -- and with that danger, you have to accept certain risks. I try not to think about it too much, the fact that I could die every time I put on the mask. It's depressing. But with the arrival of my teenage clone

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[getemtiger]

Hearing her name called like that, Mary Jane had little choice but to hurry in from the other room, expression already one of slight concern. Just what could be going on, she didn't have the first idea, but at least from what she could tell, it sounded serious. To then see Peter just sitting there with a spoon was, admittedly, a little surprising, and she stopped a few feet off, brows furrowing as she looked at him intently. "Peter?" she asked, visibly confused. "What is it? Are you okay?"

[daretodo]

Spoon still clutched in my hand, I scramble to my feet, leaving my empty bowl of cereal on the couch. There's an expression of barely veiled panicked setting up shop on my face as I get close to her, and maybe it's dumb, and maybe I'm overreacting, but with everything on this island skewing towards a younger and younger crowd, the last thing I want is to start looking like Reed Richards. While I could make the argument that it'd make me look distinguished, I really don't need a reminder of how much older I really am than my wife, not to mention my clone.

"You tell me," I say, and grabbing her wrist to gesture with towards my temple. "Is that-- What is that?"

[getemtiger]

"What is what?" Mary Jane asked, outright puzzled, now, pulling a face in her bafflement, though she put up no resistance to his moving her hand. For as freaked as he looked, there was no cause for alarm that she could discern, and while that led her quickly to the assumption that he was overreacting, she wasn't about to just jump to conclusions. Maybe there was something more serious going on, and she just couldn't tell what it was yet. "Pete, what's going on? What is all this? I don't see anything."

[daretodo]

"There's a-- A hair. Is it--?" I start, then look at her with wide, impossibly earnest eyes. "Mary Jane, be straight with me. I can handle it." In order to fully convey the seriousness of the situation, it occurs to me to lower my voice to a stage whisper: "Is it gray?"