then i'll raise you, like a phoenix

Leo had been wandering around the city for a while, and during his time he’d learnt a few things.

One, most people did not seem to like him that much. They’d scream when he got too close, try to hit him with their bags to put him out. Some had even tried spraying him with water, which had passed right through him. He wasn’t exactly sure why they despised him, but he guessed it was something like fear. Not that he could touch them, but they didn’t know that. Or maybe they did, and that freaked them out even more.

Two, he had no idea what atonement meant. He knew that fire was what was keeping him alive, and he also knew that fire was what killed the original Leo. That was probably why people were scared – fire was dangerous. Destructive. He wasn’t sure how he knew that, but it was a fact. Once he had realised that truth he’d been filled with an indescribably iciness, a cold he didn’t know it was possible for him to feel.

Three, regular people needed to eat. He didn’t. He didn’t really need anything to exist, which raised a lot more questions than it answered. Was he even alive if he didn’t need to sustain himself? Was he immortal? A whole lot of topics he’d rather not touch, not with his whole world being overwhelmingly confusing already.

Leo had grown bigger in his time in the city. He was roughly a metre and a half in diameter now, more like a bonfire than a spirit. He turned as someone turned into the alley he was staying in for tonight, watched as their eyes widened and they took of the other way screaming.

He supposed it was a little weird, a giant ball of incorporeal fire floating in the middle of an alley. He probably looked more like a nameless entity than a person. Was he a person? Yet another question he did not want to think about.

He sat, thinking for a little more. That seemed to be all he did, and it was frustrating. He wanted to do something, he wished he had hands like people so he could mess with spare parts he saw in dumpsters or fix an escape ladder that had a few screws out of place. Instead, he had vague shapes made of fire that passed through anything and everything. It had been useful a few times, like when ignoring walls, or that time some guy had tried to shoot him. But fuck it – he’d rather take a bullet than do nothing at this point. He’d apparently survived death once before surely he could do it again. Maybe next time he'd reform into something better.

“Anyone ever told you about fire hazards?” a voice said, startling him from his thoughts.

Leo turned around and saw no-one. Weird. Maybe he was hearing things again.

“Can you even understand me?” the person said again, more to themself than anything.

Leo looked up this time. A guy in a spider themed spandex suit was hanging from a fire escape, still enough to blend into the shadows despite the glow Leo was emitting.

It was a fair question, honestly. Leo had never tried talk before, not that he could remember. Still, he felt himself flare up at that like his frustrations reach reached a boiling point. “Maybe I just don’t make a habit talking to weirdos.”

Well, that answered that, he apparently could.

“Pot calling the kettle black,” the guy quipped, and Leo had to concede there. “What are you doing?”

Leo thought about floating up to him, so they’d be on the same metaphorical level. Then he thought back to normal people, their fear, and decided to stay still. “You know, getting by, thinking about why I exist, how I exist. The usual.”

“Right, right. If you don’t mind me asking,” the guy slid over the railing and dropped onto the ground. “What are you?”

Leo dimmed a little bit, fire withdrawing into himself. He wasn’t too sure whether he did that because he didn’t want to burn him (not that he could, but it was the thought that counts, right?), or if he did it because of how loaded of a question that was. Gods he wished he could answer that – was he a ghost? Or spirit in some other sense? Public perception might even see him as a monster, though his theoretical heart clenched at that thought. He dismissed it entirely – the idea, the thought, the feeling.

To his credit, spider-guy seemed to notice his spiral immediately and held his hands up pacifyingly. “I didn’t mean to offend you or anything, dude. Just wanted to know whether it was an experiment gone wrong or…?”

“I don’t know.” Leo looked up, looked at a few stars in the sky. Somewhere else he was sure thousands more were sparkling, hidden now by layers of light pollution and smog. “Do you think immortals are alive?”

“Huh?”

“Things that can’t die,” Leo clarified, though he knew that’s not what needed clearing up. “If they don’t need to eat, or breath, or do anything at all, are they still alive?”

“Sure,” Spider-guy shrugged. “If they exist and they’re experiencing the world, then why not. I’m sure a lot of people would choose to never eat again.”

“I wouldn’t.” Leo said and studied him for a second, unhappy with the guy’s answer for a reason he couldn’t put his finger on. Whatever, he could figure it out later. He didn’t really feel like continuing that conversation right now. “What’s your deal spider dude.”

“Spider dude?” the guy spluttered.

“You’re spider themed, what else was I meant to say? Widowboy? Arachnokid?” Leo said it more like a statement than a question, fire rippling like he was amused as ‘Arachnokid’ spluttered.

“It’s Spider-Man,” he grumbled. “It’s not that hard.”

“Whatever you say, man.” Leo hummed. “You always dress like that?

“It’s my hero costume, of course I don’t!” Spider dude crossed his arms.

The word hero stuck with Leo for some reason. He felt like he shouldn’t like it. Maybe shouldn’t wasn’t the right word – it was more like it struck him with a sense of looming dread. Leo hummed, discontent. “Ok. I’m not immortal, by the way. I don’t think.”

“What was the point of that question then?” Spider-Man asked incredulously, the eyes on his costume narrowing ever so slightly. Leo could imagine under the mask he was furrowing his eyebrows.

“Dunno. Pretty sure I died.” Leo hummed. “Do undead count as immortal? They probably do. Maybe I am, it just doesn’t feel right you know, Spidey?”

“You died?” Spidey asked, and Leo huffed as the guy focused on the wrong thing.

Exasperated he begun to pull his fire in, mimicking the way Spidey’s arms were crossed. Maybe that would express his discontent at the insensitive – and frankly useless – question.

“Said I was pretty sure, yeah. It’s not important.” He continued on, cutting off his conversation partner’s surprised ‘huh’. “What am I though – that was an excellent question. I can’t decide. Is a ghost an accurate term? I don’t feel very ghost-y. And spirit is such a… an ambiguous thing – so maybe that? I don’t know, it’s confusing.”

“How do you not know if you died or not?” Spidey interrupted.

“I don’t know- I just don’t remember? Quit changing the topic.” he powered on, subconsciously letting himself mimic Spidey more and more. “I woke up like a week ago, and I don’t remember things but I do know things and its very confusing. I know I killed someone, and I don’t know how or why but I do know I need to make up for that. Somehow at least, I can’t really do anything and that’s almost as frustrating as not remembering things.”

“You killed someone?” Spidey asked incredulously, now tense. “Who? Why?”

“Well, I don’t remember killing him,” Leo started. “I woke up next to his body and I-… and I knew it like it was a fact. Does that make sense?”

“No. It doesn’t at all.”

“Kind of like that baby swimming reflex.” Leo hummed before he shook his head. “How the fuck do I know that’s a thing? I don’t remember learning that.”

“You’re really weird.”

“Says the guy in spandex. What a…” Leo trailed off, flaring up as he thought of an idea. “You’re a hero right?”

Spider-Man’s mechanical eyes automatically widened before returning to what Leo assumed was their default state. He wondered if that had happened because of surprise of because of his literal glow up. “Yeah?”

“So you’d be like a good person right? Working for the betterment of humanity or something?”

“I mean I’m just doing what I can, I wouldn’t say I’m all that special-”

Leo ignored him, floating back and forth like he was excitedly pacing, gesturing with the pseudo-arms he made before. It felt right, somehow, to be moving like this. Stillness couldn’t come easy to fire, but passively burning wasn’t the same, and neither was floating from one space to another. “But you’re a good guy. Which means you’re doing good for people. I want to do good for people. I want to make up for whatever I did before.”

“I’m sorry, I’m a little lost.” Spidey interrupted fully this time, waving his arm like he was trying to catch Leo’s attention. “Do you want to become a hero or something?”

Leo blanched at that thought, fire violently withdrawing into itself before returning to a calmer state. That word – hero – made him reflexively curl up and he couldn’t understand why. Heroes were good – at least that’s what his mind supplied him with whenever he thought of them. His entire idea hinged on Spider-Man and heroes wanting to improve the world after all.

“Dude?”

“No.” he replied finally. “I don’t want to be a hero. I don’t think I could, anyway. I want to help you help people.”

“No.” Spider-Man sounded very firm on this. “I mean – what I do is really dangerous. Also, I can do it fine on my own.”

Leo’s form wavered. “Wait! I mean I can go through walls and thing I can help you scout out things. Or I mean I am floating – I think I can fly? I could like, find crime for you to fight or something.”

“I’m pretty good at figuring things out – also I already have a way to find crime.”

“Then I can be a pretty decent distraction.”

“I’m not having some random guy be bait?” Spider-Man sounded almost offended at that, which was odd because Leo offered himself. “You could get hurt – you’re literally made out of fire, someone else could also get hurt.”

“I’m fully intangible – look,” Leo moved through a wall and then back to prove his point. “And I can’t hurt people, I can’t touch them at all. I’ve had people walk through me and not notice; I don’t think people can feel me. I’m like a global hallucination.”

“You’re definitely giving off heat, I can feel it.”

“Not enough to hurt you apparently,” Leo pressed what would have been his hands together if he had a body. “C’mon please? I can’t really do anything else. I don’t want to float around and do nothing at all. Surely, I can help somehow.”

“I don’t even do anything that requires any help.” Spider-Man sounded more bewildered than anything, though physically the only thing that might’ve suggested that were his mechanical eyes widening a little.

“Well, I mean – think of it this way. What if I am dangerous? Then isn’t it also preventative measures or surveillance? That’s a good thing to do right?” Leo forged on, mind running at a mile as minute as he thought of ways to convince him. He wasn’t too sure why he was so focused on Spider-Man specifically. It wasn’t like they’d clicked or anything, half the time Leo wasn’t sure if Spidey understood what he was trying to express. He’d been a little excited to be able to share with someone, excited when they hadn’t run away or gotten scared. He’d never done it before, but he got the feeling he missed talked.

Loneliness – maybe that was it. He couldn’t remember anything about companionship, but now threatened with the possibility of being alone – he didn’t think he could go back to that. The idea of being seen as a threat – a monster small voice whispered in his mind – felt heartbreakingly painful.  

“You’re trying to be my sidekick basically, why would I believe you’re dangerous now?” Spidey shook his head. “Also, what are you going to do? Warm them up while you ask them philosophical questions? How evil.”

“I could melt icicles during December.”

“Terrifying.”

“Dude please,” Leo formed flickered anxiously. “I barely know anything, this will at least give me something to do while I try to figure out who and what I am.”

“I’m not going to let you help me,” Spidey said firmly, and Leo withdrew into himself. There was a short pause, almost like he was hesitating before he spoke again. “But I can try to help you figure out who you are.”

Leo flared up again, big and bright. Spider-Man’s eyes squinted, bringing up a hand to shield them from the sudden influx of light. “Dude really? Oh my gods thank you holy shit. I genuinely don’t think anyone else wants to be near me, let alone talk to me.”

“A floating ball of fire is a little intimidating,” Spidey hummed. “There’s usually downtime between crimes while I’m on patrol, we can try to figure things out then. But you can’t follow me while I’m doing my hero-y stuff.”

“Hero-y stuff,” Leo repeated, nodding. “Ok, I won’t.”

“Ok.” Spidey stuck his hand out, unflinching and unafraid. “We have a sort of deal I guess.”

Leo hesitated, before reaching out a pseudo-arm too. His ‘hand’ sunk into Spider-Man’s as if it were just more air. Then – nothing. There was no burning, nor did Spidey show any sort of discomfort. It was the same as everything else he tried to touch – unresponsive.

“I guess we do.”