3rd POV:
Stan was cleaning glasses again. He found that repetitive motion actually quiet comforting.
Bell burst through the doors.
''Stan, you and I need to talk,'' Bell started only for pain to explode in his face as Stan punched him to another universe against Bells control.
It wouldn't do for their fight to destroy earth after all. No. Far better to have that fight in some dead universe where they both can be left unbothered.
Bell moaned as he spat out two teeth, the damage went through his defenses. Thankfully it has already healed almost instantaneously, his nose as well as his teeth.
''The fucks your problem, you psycho!?,'' Bell spat jumping on his feet and wiped the blood from his face with a thought.
Instead of answering Stan moved faster then light, appeared above Bell and kicked down into the planets core. Bell barely reacted in time to put his arms above himself as he could only move as fast as light.
Not that it was much of a planet any more, as the speed alone destroyed 75% of it thanks to the friction.
Stan winced a little.
Right. It has been a while since he fought. He forgot how fragile planets actually were. He needed to remember to phase, if he wanted to not incinerate everything.
Stan was pretty sure that Bell already knew that there were tiers to powers. Say someone like Ghost Spider or Quicksilver. Unless she trains like some of the spider variants going around to see 12 hours or more into the future, Quicksilver is going to move faster then she can react to her spider sense. And even if she could react, Quicksilver would only need to get a little faster and he would punch her anyway.
Ergo speed was faster then the avatars of spider totems. Stan was curious to see how long it would take Bell to find out about that particular fact.
But what few people knew was that there were tiers within the same power. One such an example would be Bell and Wanda. Both were reality warpers and in practice there was no difference between the two. Both could reach the potential to destroy universes. One already did. Though the easiest universes to destroy are dead ones, it still counts.
But put them against each other?
This is were things start to get interesting.
Stan has observed that Bells reality warping seemed to follow logic. Everything was grounded in science. Weather he had to understand the science or not, Stan knew not, though he could always ask. Weather his powers worked like that by design or was thanks to Bells logical nature he didn't know and Bell probably didn't either.
Wanda was not constrained by such limits. She had access to Chaos Magic. The oldest magic, the very essence that is used to create the randomness factor in every universe to diversify them and give them life after a Big Bang. She willed it and it happened regardless of the sciences.
Her powers were ... chaotic like that.
Alas, not many Wandas have Bells drive to push themselves to greatness.
On paper, Wanda would always win against Bell or should always win. But when it came to the 1% it was always about experience, creativity, control, semantics, home advantage, element of surprise, sometimes even hard counters, yadda, yadda, yadda.
A battle between individuals from the 1% was never a certainty due to how many factors were involved.
All that is to say, that Stan was at the top of the food chain. He knew that he will never lose a battle. Bell could fight, but he will lose. Not even the 'Beyonders' would win against him. Those little ingrates and nuisances, boasted about coming from beyond this multiverse cluster, but where they were actually dwelling was right on the edge of the barrier, the gap between the edges of the multiverse and that unending abyss. If they would just take two steps to the right, which they unfortunately don't do, the abyss would simply erase them.
Stan actually had a personal dislike for them.
BUT.
All the points he made up till now would be completely moot, if Bell awakened his other ability. Stan was actually undertaking a massive gamble. Because if Bell awakened his other powers and had the impression that Stan was genuinely trying to kill him, then Stan would simply die. Stan was actually uniquely suited and situated to understand what power lurks in Bell, unlike any other in the multiverse cluster.
Maybe the One-Below-All, but he is slumbering ever since their battle, even if he still possesses the most minuscule consciousness. Any deal made with him would only awaken him more and more, which is why he forbade Bell from making deals with him.
Bell better appreciate his efforts to help him. Since he does not normally involve himself, preferring to let the living beings live their lives.
Which does beg the question. Why give such a powerful ability to someone and send him down here? Nothing warranted such an action as he could take care of everything himself if things ever became too crazy. Was it for entertainment? Was it to kill him? Was there a reason at all?
Stan could not take the gamble and harm Bell too much. The risk was too big. Even now, Stan hoped that Bells benefactor understood he was trying to help Bell and not strike him down.
Because regardless of everything, Stan has come to like Bell a little. He certainly has an idea why Bell was picked, in spite of his baggage.
Bell burst out from the core, using the magma and material floating around in space for the geyser that he shot at Stan. It was a distraction, both knew that, both felt it.
The geyser hit a telekinetic wall and Stan turned around, stopping time to capture a Big Bang from a super massive Black Hole in the moment. Bell did not teleport away though, both attacks were a distraction.
The moment Stan turned, Bell summoned a sword, imbued it with magic to be as tough as possible, both to actually do damage against Stans defenses and to withstand the small Big Bang. Bell spun the sword at light speed and detonated the small Black Hole freely at the end of the handle. His defenses could withstand black holes, but he could not move faster then light. Surely the force from the Big Bang could catapult the drilling sword at enough speeds to do damage to Stan, it had to, for how else could a Big Bang restart the universe all at once. Granted that was only the case with massive Black Holes, but still.
The moment Stan turned back, the sword smashed in his cheek forcing him to turn his head.
Stan turned his head ready to attack again, only to stop as he noticed something. He moved his finger across his cheek and starred. Well, both starred incredulously at the drop of blood. The damage healed the moment it happened and Stan felt nothing, yet all the same, there it was, a drop of blood on his fingers.
Bell swallowed thickly.
''I'm sorry,'' Bell spoke emotionless, hiding his dread.
Sorry? Stan was actually impressed and happy with Bells progress. That is exactly what he meant it was a battle of creativity. Cant't move faster then light speed? Use science (a workaround even if a poor one) to make an object move faster then light.
That said, he has given Bell courtesy enough. Short as this courtesy was.
If Bell was already this good, then he should meet him in kind and teach him a lesson. Stan would be lenient, but others would ensure Bell would die for that transgression, unless he was stronger then he already was. Stan better teach him that lesson now, in the safety of a spar (essentially), instead of learning the lesson on the battlefield.
Stan swung the Big Bang still in time and let it detonate in Bells face. He shot of to the next galaxy. Probably for the better as all these small black holes wiped out this galaxy.
So much for watching out for planets. Well, so long as not a massive Black Hole was used, everything was fine.
Bell flew huge distances in a short time and went through a planet before finally being able to force himself to a halt. The moment he turned around towards where Stan teleported the reality around him turned to a crawl until finally stopping.
When he finally began registering his surroundings again, pain exploded all over his body. Stan watched as Bell quickly healed his injuries and broken bones. The moment Bell was healthy again, he attempted to do something only for the process to repeat again.
Bell scowled, he hasn't really gotten around to training when it came to time and the soul. If he is not dead by the end of it, he will get to rectifying that immediately. First time, then soul. He was fairly confident that with the soul being tied closer to the mind then to the body (at least that is the conclusion Bell drew after Stans explanation on souls) and his void mind his protection would extend to his soul as well.
Of course, he was not gonna gamble and he would learn about that too, but priorities.
Stan kicked him into the sun. Bell landed on it and immediately created a Black Hole again so that he would be within the event horizon and experience time slowing down. He used his speed to move at normal speeds.
The moment he did that he realized his own blunder.
Nothing could escape a Black Hole unless it was able to move faster then light. Sure, Bell moved at normal speeds to a human and his defenses stopped him from getting spaghettified, but when Stan stepped into the Black Hole as well, he danced around Bell like a kid on sugar.
Stan could see from Bells short expression that he realized his own blunder. The idea was sound, the execution was lacking however. After breaking a few more of Bells bones, he decided to give hims an olive branch and kick him out of the Black Hole.
Bell went through the iron core of the sun sustaining a lot of damage, especially with the speed he was kicked out.
By now, Bell completely cut himself of from his pain. He didn't really like doing that as it made him feel less human, but he could only endure so much pain after all.
Stan teleported in front of Bell this time, and let him breath for a moment. Bell released a sigh at the prick before engaging again.
...
...
...
Nothing Bell tried actually worked.
The elements? Were not effective or Stan simply willed them out of existence.
Radiation and gravity? Did jack shit, which was a given, since they were in space, but still.
Molecular manipulation, genetic manipulation, matter manipulation and energy manipulation? Absolutely did not work on Stans body (Duh!), but even if he used the stuff around them Stan simply willed it out of existence too.
The same with material he spawned into the world thanks to virtual particles.
Telepathy did not work, telekinesis did not work, Black Holes did not work, speed did not work.
Bell even tried a tactical retreat once, by teleporting away. He was teleported back in front of Stan and had his windpipe crushed.
He also tried combining powers and getting more creative with them too. As much as he could, while being forced to concentrate on such a behemoth as Stan.
Nothing worked.
After that drop of blood, Stan seemed to take him serious, because nothing got past his defenses again.
Maybe time and soul manipulation would work, but he wasn't given the time to try it out. Maybe he already had the control (like when he experimented with Black Holes) but he needed to familiarize himself too with his abilities. Bell was not given any time to try it in the midst of battle and any time he did have, was spent on how to survive Stans attacks.
By now, Bell already suspected that Stan did not want to kill him, especially because he still felt a connection to his clone puppet. And Stan has demonstrated his sheer reach and might. His clone puppet would already be dead and he too, for that matter.
Stan kicked him away again into a planet, he seemed to like doing that a lot for some reason.
Stan watched Bell crash onto the surface of the planet. This time Stan decided to reinforce the planets structure. He watched Bell bounce on the surface, kick dust up and leave a long trail of blood as he continued to bounce from the force of his kick.
Stan was right. Bell was a warrior. He did not beg or plead to him at all and always picked himself up again after every engagement. At least he was not a brainless warrior as he did know the meaning of tactical retreat. Even if it took quiet a while till he tried that move.
He teleported near Bell and locked down at him. Bell spat out blood and sighed, clearly being tired of his ass getting beaten.
No, no, no, no.... Ugh. Stan decided to stop beating Bell once he lays down and accepts defeat. Just stay down already so they can talk! Bell was picking himself up again.
Stan kicked his arms from under him and grabbed him by the hair, before smashing his head against a telekinetic wall. Bell momentarily collapsed and spat out several teeth.
Stan starred, squashing down his guilt. He hoped Bell FINALLY stands down.
Somebody was playing a prank on him, Stan determined. JUST STAY DOWN!
Stan raised his leg and delivered a powerful kick to Bells neck, severing the vertebrae and the nerves. Stan felt the damage heal almost instantaneously in Bells body.
Bell glared at Stan in frustration.
He was suffering form mental fatigue. Sure, his body was in perfect condition again and he had infinite energy to throw around and reinforce his body. But not only did he cut of his nerves half way through the battle he was also starting to run on fumes in regards to his concentration. Seems not even magic could cure a headache and he tried. Maybe it is some sort of placebo effect, forced upon him by his own cognition?
His body was beaten black and blue? He has to be hurting, the brain determines.
Bell sighed and turned on his back, not trying to pick himself up again.
Stan released his own sigh, of relief, and conjured a chair. Then he sat in it and looked Bell in the eyes.
For a while no one said anything.
''Could you enlighten me, why you rearranged several planets structure with my face?,'' Bell asked calmly and clearly. The wonders of defenses and super regeneration. He was back in tip top shape, he just chose to stay down.
''It was necessary to get you to talk about your secret. I realized nothing would work except forcing you and holding you at gun point. So talk, I command it,'' Stan left no room for arguments in his voice.
Bell starred at him incredulously for quiet a while, trying to comprehend his answer.
''What is this? Naruto? You really tried Talk-No-Jutsu on me? If you had given me 2 minutes I would have began telling you my story. There was no reason for all this,'' Bell spat angrily.
Stan blinked at him and then released a cough. Well, excuuuse him for not being able to ready Bells mind.
Stan was absolutely certain in his assumption that he needed to beat Bell to get him to talk. How was he too know that his date with Gwen would change things so much. One singular date is usually not a world changing variable. He wondered what got him in a twist, Gwen was left pretty happy after the date. Bells efforts to keep him out from her mind amounted to nothing, though the defenses were still good and work against most.
''You... donkey,'' Bell sagged within himself with a sigh.
''I'm not sorry, by the way. Now at least I know how far you advanced with your reality warping,'' Stan shrugged his shoulders. And surely Bell has gained something too, a standard, that he can strive towards, if he never manages to unlock his other powers.
''Fabulous. I shall take comfort in the fact that at least one of us benefited from this spectacular beat down,'' Bell drawled.
''Is that why you threw your chair and table at the wall? You reached a breaking point at that moment?,'' Stan inquired changing the subject, he leaned on his knees to talk better to Bell.
''In a manner of speaking,'' Bell admitted.
''Well?,'' Stan gestured after a while of silence.
''Just... give me a moment, please,'' Bell requested.
Stan nodded. He could take all the time he wants, they were both immortal.
For a long while the two stayed silent, Bell was gathering his thoughts and Stan watched Bells expression shift and shift and shift some more.
Finally Bell swallowed thickly, his windpipe moving clearly for the world to see.
''I guess I should start where every story starts. The beginning, though I guess in our case it is not quiet the beginning beginning. Anyway. I said that I was drafted to war,'' Bell began then staying silent again.
'Yes, that is usually how all stories start' Stan wanted to reply, but he bit down his sarcastic reply. Bell was having a moment and he was not rude enough to give hims shit right now.
''I was not the best soldier actually. I refused to kill at first. It is difficult to look at a corpse and not see yourself. But it was war, and in war there are no winners, only losers. It was kill, and lose your innocence or be killed. It hasn't really sunk in for me yet, not for a while actually.
My fellow soldiers gave me a lot of shit actually. I'm sure there are some that were genuinely frustrated with me. After all, a soldier that doesn't kill is a liability. But I would like to think that there were those who wanted me to kill out of compassion. It made it easier.
We walked into an ambush and somehow I found myself buried alive under their corpses. It was raining, but gasoline burned all the same. I crawled through blood, mud and all other kinds of liquid out, the mud on my back functioning as a barrier. It was warm, on my back, but I sustained no damage.
I knew even then, a part of me died with them. But something else was born too. I already disliked the leeches, but now I hated them. They needed culling no matter what, I decided.
My first kill came easy,'' Bell stopped to gather his thoughts.
Stan, understood that he was hurting after that event. Many people engaged in a lot of (understandable, even if not justifiable) actions that lashed out at everything around them. Stan was starting to suspect, where the real issue with Bells guilt lied.
''Fast forward a lot of unimportant events. I received a promotion, leader of my own squad with commands that needed carrying out. We stumbled upon a mansion. There was a war going on and yet the leeches inside it lived comfortable as if no war was going on. And my men needed a morale boost. Food, a nice place to sleep, plumbing, a clean bath... and even carnal pleasure. I stood by and let two of my men rape that woman. I was complicit.
We completed that mission. And as always I rose in the world on the steps of worse and better men than I. They all died. Some of their deaths I mourned deeply, others not so much,'' Bell stopped, his mouth moving but no sound came out.
Stan listened saying nothing, judging nothing, least Bell loses his courage.
''The manner...
The manner in which I took power after the war. The world was told the entire truth, everything I did for all to see. I told the truth in all things except one. That truth I kept well to myself and let anyone believe whatever they pleased,'' Bell stopped again.
For a long while no one said anything. Stan waited patiently, attentively, for Bell to continue.
''There was no plan,'' Bell weakly burst out feeling a little light headed, before repeating with a clearer voice,'' There was no plan. Not a one. There was no grand design. No great scheme to take power. I always had a tactical mind, even before the war, one that only became more strategic during the war. But political scheming? That came after the war.''
Bell began repeating his confession again. closing his eyes.
''There was no plan. No grand design. No great scheme. There was nothing. Nothing!
I ... was SO angry. I was hurting. My friends losses was the final drop before the barrel burst. I was hurting for a while. But I could no longer pretend otherwise form here on out.
I was promoted to general and somewhere in my brain, I though, it is a lucky sort that makes it back from war. I'm not the lucky sort. So, if I'm going to die, why not use my position to cry out into such an uncaring world. I wanted to share my pain with everyone. They deserved it after all. It was their complacency and their apathy that enabled the leeches to start this war. Part of me, knew that the blame also fell on me, but I conveniently ignored that part.
Anger motivated me and grief made me feel justified. Apathy was the result.
I broke every Geneva Convention under the sun. I threw napalm in a city. I walked by a bus stop and watched a charred mother embrace her charred child. Their expression one of horror. And I felt nothing.
And when my trial came I had the audacity to cling to my life and fought for my survival, as if I deserved it.
I killed all those people, not for a purpose. I'm not that much of an idealist to believe one can make the world a better place without at least harming a few people in the process. Obviously efforts to minimize their loss as much as possible should be taken. But at least this way their deaths would have had a purpose, lamentable as their death was. I killed them solely for my own self-gratification!
It took me two years, till i returned to my senses and realized what I had done. And since then I tried to atone, what little I could for my sins. No more would I indulge in my own feelings, instead I would turn to logic. I succeeded mostly, most of my focus was in making the lives of my citizens better. I hated myself and blamed both myself and the leeches for what happened. But the citizens? They knew peace for 37 years. I was happy with my efforts and when I died I was ready for hell.
But then my benefactor threw a wrench in everything I thought I knew and sent me here. Now I no longer know what to feel or think,'' Bell confessed. Slowly and hesitantly at first, but the more he talked the cleared his voice became.
Bells shoulders sagged as the weight was finally of his shoulders.
Bell looked at Stan to see what he had to say.
''Oh. And?,'' Stan asked him confused. Bell blinked at him. That was not the reaction he expected.
''What do you mean 'And?'?,'' Bell asked incredulously.
''I understand where you are coming from, but many people hurt other people when hurting. Intentionally or not, I mean just take a look at Connors. He only wanted to save people, instead he made a giant mutated lizard serum and killed his family,'' Stan pointed out.
Bell spluttered.
''That is not an excuse! Just because I was hurting did not mean I had to do that! Lots of people hurt all the time, they don't murder others. And if they do, then that is their consequence to carry,'' Bell argued.
Stan sighed.
''I should have known better, of course you wouldn't think like a human,'' Bell lamented.
Bell expected many things from Stan, but not apathy. Wasn't it he that said that while he wanted EVERYONE to be better, he was more inclined to heroes?
Stan sharply snapped his eyes to Bell.
''I will forgive you this time for that remark,'' Stan strongly replied only to continue in a calmer voice,'' Bell, it is true that you hurt people. But you can not be lenient with others and so harsh with yourself. That is hypocritical of you.
...
Ehh, you know what I mean. You once told Laura that justice is not just about the punishment, but about being fair.
You denied yourself everything in your first life. That was your punishment. Why wouldn't it be fair to you and everyone else to let you live and move on now?,'' Stan asked him.
''It is not that easy. I never saw this as my second chance. I only saw this as an opportunity to continue my work, but this time far better. I have to say, pulling off all these schemes without too many or no innocents dying is wonderful. I hope I can continue ensuring their safety while bettering their lives,'' Bell said.
''Oh, Bell. I really don't get you. You acknowledge that sometimes, someone has only bad choices to pick from. You acknowledge that sometimes innocents die no matter what. You acknowledge that feeling guilt is enough to give them an opportunity. You don't seem to hate Sarah or others like her for living their life in spite of what they done or the regrets they have. You only see the bad consequences of your choices and refuse to see the good you did.
Bell, no amount of good you will do will make you feel better. You could cure world hunger, poverty, all diseases and stop war forever more. You could build an eternal utopia across the entire multiverse and still, you would not feel accomplished. You will still feel the regret of your past actions. Actions taken by a young soul, who had no one and was hurting.
The fact that you are so hung up on this is nothing but a testament to your character. Most would have moved on, finding closure after a few years. You persevered for decades in your self torment.
I just don't understand. Why are you so fixated on clinging to the past? Yes, you killed innocents in anger, but people die. That is the way of things. That is the way things have always been. Do you think me less for taking a step back and letting people choose for themselves, allowing misery and tragedy to occur?,'' Stan asked him.
''You know my thoughts on that already. I stand by what I said. Besides, I never was one that blamed the inventor. You could hardly blame the inventor of pillows over the one that used them to suffocate another.''
''There you go again. Making excuses for others, but not yourself. You could argue day and night, but I am complicit in the suffering of the world too. I have the power to stop it all and yet I do not for personal reasons,'' Stan spat out.
''The price for freedom is steep. I can't claim to know what you are going through. But whatever your beliefs they blame for these tragedies lies on others,'' Bell tried assuring Stan.
''... Nothing I say is actually getting through to you, is it? Everything I say, goes in one ear and comes out on the other. Bell...,'' Stan wanted to continue, but he instead sighed.
The two remained silent for a while. One thinking one how he could beat some sense into him, the other waiting for Stan to make a choice.
''You love and you are loved. You have no idea what joy you bring to your loved ones. If only they knew, what tortured soul lies behind your face. More is the pity.
You know, I never asked. How would you rank your enemies on your priority list?,'' Stan commented.
''Leeches. Puppets. Enablers. Enemies. The last one is the only one I can be bothered to give an opportunity to. For a while, complacent people were on the list too, but I moved them below innocent people when it comes to saving. Why is that important?,'' Bell asked.
''Where would you put yourself on that list?''
Bell frowned, confused.
''I can hardly put myself on the list,'' Bell replied.
''Huh. With the way you treat yourself, I though you might as well be on that list. Perhaps number one,'' Stan dismissed, waving of Bells confused expression.
''Impossible. I hate nothing more than leeches.''
''I'm sure you do. Very well, then we are done here,'' Stan declared, patted his knees and stood up, banishing the chair within the same movement.
''What? But...,'' Bell looked a little panicked as he jumped to his feet.
But what? Stan frowned at him in confusion. Until the realization kicked in, his expression slowly turning into annoyance and disappointment.
''I see. You really meant what you said. One makes choices all the time. Even letting the choice fall to someone else is making a choice.
No.
Make the choice yourself. I will not have you blame me for the path you will walk. Either move on and accept that you have made up for your sins or break off all contact with your loved ones so that you will no longer give them grief and have them worry over you. Rip the plaster quick and without mercy,'' Stan told him beginning to walk away.
''More's the pity. I had such high hopes of you,'' Stan said right before teleporting away. At least, now he knew the reason why so many variants of Bell were so miserable.
Bell starred at the empty spot where Stan was previously. He conjured his own chair and sat on it before hanging his head.
If there is one thing this fight had taught him, is that he needed to be better prepared. Aside from time and soul manipulation.
Hmmmm. Maybe he could look into a system that allows him to respawn no matter how many times he dies? Like... Dark Souls and its bonfire system! Not even Stan could look into his head, so maybe he could tinker with something there. Sure he could not control his void aspect, yes, but at least he could do something with what he had.
After all, when your enemy simply comes back again and again, victory is only a matter of when not if.
Or maybe he could look into this Scepter and see why so many had an interest in it. Bell brought out Loki's Scepter. Or he could look into Godkiller.
So much to do, so...
No.
Bell threw the Scepter back into the pocket dimension and kicked the chair back.
No.
He was not a coward. He would not be distracting himself, instead of making a choice. He began pacing around.
But, how to make the choice?
---
Bell was standing on the bridge between Queens and Manhattan. He looked at the coin in his hand. Two sides, two paths, two choices. 50/50 chance.
All he needed to do was flip it and that would be it.
He has been starring at the coin for the past hour or so, distracted to the world around him.
Stan was of the impression that nothing he said registered in Bells mind. That was not the case at all. Bell was leaning on the brain side. It is what he leaned towards for the entirety of his first life, after the war. His heart only became truly louder in this life, it was silent most of the time in his first life.
He had his arguments for why he wanted to choose his brain side and hoped that Stan would make counterarguments or outright make the choice for him. Though he could hardly reveal that he had two voices in his head. That made him sound like a schizophrenic.
Still, Stan said enough that he could work with it. And yet, Bell could not make a choice. He knew what Stan wanted from him, even if he did not say it. But he was also playing in the other direction.
Stan and his heart. The brain and his habit.
On one path lies the path to his salvation, the other to his destruction.
Companionship or solitude.
Joy or misery.
It was too hard making the choice, but even letting the coin decide was hard. What Stan said at the end stuck with him. Everything he said said actually stuck with Bell. They weren't really counterarguments. Not really. They were more like ... expressions of compassion.
...
Ugh, who was he kidding. The validity of an argument needed to be seeped in logic. The problem was that when talking about morality opinions/ philosophies also mattered and were valid as arguments (mostly). So long as one explained the thought process of an opinion and was mostly logical in arguing it, it counted.
Unfortunately, nowhere did Stan say 'This is bad, you should not do that'. Instead he made a plea of compassion and used Bell own arguments against him, the ones he made to Laura. Stan even made arguments against himself, using Bells logic and tried showing him as a hypocrite for thinking Stan in the right, but not himself.
In other words Bell could not dismiss it because it was convenient to him.
Bell sighed, playing with the coin a bit by making it move between his fingers.
Was it truly fine for him to move on? Stan and ROB did not seem to mind his past, but.... Well, at least Stan seemed incensed at the suggestion he could not understand human/ living being/ mortal thinking.
But he can't judge the world by their standards. Wait, no. That sounded arrogant.
Ugh.
''Well, young man. You seem frustrated,'' an elderly concerned man made his way over to Bell and addressed him. A young man, having that expression on his face while on a bridge gave others ... ideas.
Bell gave the man his attention, checking him for anything suspicious. He picked up nothing that would indicate the man as an enemy.
''May I help you?,'' Bell asked politely.
''You can help me by stepping away from that ledge, son,'' the elderly man requested kindly.
Bell moved his eyes to his feet and back to the man.
''I know what it looks like. I promise I am not suicidal,'' Bell assured him.
''Hm. Then what troubles you. Is it girl trouble? Do you need some sage advice from an elderly person?,'' the man playfully offered causing Bell to chuckle.
''No, no, girl trouble. But I suppose you are right, elderly people do often have sage advice,'' Bell joked.
''Well, that makes you smarter then my grandchildren then. They won't hear me out at all!,'' the man huffed.
''I know what you mean. We are young and our energy is great, it makes us feel invincible. Too often most realize too late how fragile we really are,'' Bell said making the man look at him a little weirdly. Bell could do with some advice right now, even if from a stranger. He was desperate for something to tip the scales.
''Did you fight in WW2?,'' Bell asked him.
''No. I fought in the Vietnam War though.''
''Very well. This means you know regret. Suppose that I did something that I have come to regret. The one I wronged tells me that I should move on but my guilt is eating me up. Now, I am at an impasse. How did you deal with your guilt?,'' Bell lied a little, but the essence of his trouble was still the same.
''You broke any laws?''
''No.''
''Hmm, I suppose it is a moot question anyway. You won't confess probably. As for your question? I do have an answer. Live. Carry on. I murdered vietnamese people during the war. Sometimes not in the cleanest and quickest manner. But i learned to live with my guilt. And now I have a son and a daughter as well as three grandchildren I and my wife can spoil. I feel accomplished. Perhaps I will answer for what I did after I die in some way. I'm certain I will. But so long as I have lived I can claim that I lived my life to the fullest and with no regrets. We only have this one life anyway, why not make the best of it, instead of being bogged down by guilt, insecurities or self consciousness?,'' the man replied.
''Just carry on, huh? And when the guilt is too strong? When nothing you do feels good enough to justify carrying on, what then?,'' Bell asked curiously.
''Do you want me to let you in on a little secret? I'm 78 years old and I still don't know what I am doing sometimes. I'm just winging it and trying to pass my wisdom down to my grandkids so that they will be winging it less when they are older.
No one has all the answers in the world. What I learned is that sometimes there are no answers at all! In that case it falls to you to invent an answer. If you must invent an answer anyway, why not invent one that benefits you?,'' the man suggested.
Bell nodded slowly.
''I see. I will take your advise in consideration. I appreciate your help,'' Bell thanked him.
''Of course, of course. I'm glad to know that these useless old bones are good for something at least,'' the man chuckled self deprecatingly,'' Anyway, I wish you good luck, young man, in whatever trouble you have found yourself in.''
Bell nodded and then watched as the man slowly made his way down the bridge again.
A good Samaritan. Bell wished more people were like this.
Still....
Bell rolled the coin again in his hand. Making his own answers, huh? In a way he was already doing that by punishing himself for his sins, but.... Answers change, don't they?
He meant it when he said he would never get rid of his guilt, not really. But...
Was it really fine to move on? Both sides had valid arguments. Bell moved the coin on his thumb, readying to flip it at any moment. But he had to admit it was becoming rather tiring, this back and forth.
Unless...
He did once say to Stan that often the answer lies in the middle. He could still atone for what he did, but he could do so while living.
Could this be his answer? Was it truly so simple? Was he so blind for so long, that he couldn't have seen this up till now?
Bell starred at the coin. Or he could flip it...
Bell stayed on that bridge for close to half an hour starring at that coin. Running both paths through his brain.
The possibilities.
The consequences.
The outcomes.
In the end Bell tilted his hand a little and watched the coin fall down into the waters below. It made a small insignificant splash.
And that was it.
It was done.
The choice was made.
And with it, silence from both his heart and brain.
---
Melina came home and was bombarded by sweet aroma. She moved to the living room and watched Bell sit at the table drinking something.
''Mom, I see you have arrived. Go wash your hands and come back here. I went to the supermarket and bought ingredients to make spaghetti bolognese,'' Bell instructed.
Melina stood there for a while, starring at the scene in front of her uncomprehensively.
''Well?,'' Bell asked her, making her jerk a little and then dizzyingly scurry to the bathroom to wash her hands.
When she came back Bell asked her if she wanted tea too.
''What kind?,'' she asked him, watching him like a hawk.
''Green tea, with a tea spoon of honey. I have come to like it a lot. I think this will be my new favorite beverage. And this food my new favorite dish. Dig in, I hope you like it,'' Bell poured her a cup after she accepted. He wanted to start small. No one would begrudge him his tea and food. Surely?
Favorite dish? Favorite drink? Mom?
What...?
What happened?
''Bell, I... How was your day?,'' Melina asked instead of the real question. She was afraid she would only push him away.
''Miserable. An old man talked to me, while I was on a bank. He talked to me about regrets and missed opportunities and I realized I messed up for 16 and a half years. Can you forgive me mom? I know, I have not always been the best son...,'' Bell began pouring his heart out. She was not his first mother, but he came to like her a lot over the years.
''No, my little tinker bell, no! You have been the most wonderful child a parent could ask for. Always so well behaved and staying out of trouble,'' Melina quickly interrupted and made her way quickly over to him. She knelt down while resting her hands on his knees for reassurance.
''Perhaps. But I have been distant. I know you wondered what you did wrong, I heard you talk with father. It was not you mom, it was me. I was the issue,'' Bell shook his head at her.
''It... Well, i can't completely deny that, but it doesn't matter! We can still make many more memories together. I only wish Jack would be here too,'' Melina wished. Bell nodded at her.
''Then why don't you eat my food? You till haven't touched it,'' Bell suggested and she chuckled quickly making her way back to her spot.
''How was your day?,'' Bell asked as she took her first bite. She chewed a bit before replying.
''It is really good. And it was the usual, hectic back and forth, as well as standing for hours on your feet. You can't always stay on the chair after all,'' Melina waved off her day and put another portion in her mouth.
''Have you and Gwen....?,'' Melina asked after a few moments have passed.
''We went on a date, she invited me. It disappointed her a little I could tell. Next time I will make the date more special for her,'' Bell declared and Melina nodded, hiding her amusement behind her chewing.
''Mhmhm. Well, let me pass some advice for you then, because I have noticed some worrying trends today. Don't break up at the first sign of trouble, or at the slightest disagreement, or because the 'spark' is no longer there. If you two get along, the you should work together on your relationship. A relationship is like a tree. Tend to it and it will be surprisingly sturdy. Trust me, I had my fair share of disagreements with your father,'' Melina advised hiim.
Yes, Bell knew that. It was the fault of those damn dating apps. It set the expectation to high from ones partner. Then there was the 'gender pay gap', the discriminatory custody cases and a lot of other things besides to facilitate a gender war between both sexes. All, of course, designed to separate humans and discourage the forming of communities.
And like lemmings most follow the path provided for them. Those who don't are too few to make a difference.
The saying, those that bloat themselves on the cow, have convinced those that feast on bunnies that those who have nothing are the greedy ones. Or something like that, there were many variations of the sentence.
In other words the blame always lied at every ones feet instead of the leeches feet.
''Of course. I will take your advise strongly at heart,'' Bell assured her. Melina gave him a sharp nod.
The two were cure together, so of course she wanted to see them both happy.
''It was delicious,'' Melina complimented Bell after being done with her plate.
''Well, I'm glad I haven't poisoned you with my lack of culinary skills,'' Bell joked.
''Oh, shush you. You were always good at replicating my dishes,'' Melina joked causing Bell to laugh.
Melina smiled seeing him so relaxed. She did not know where this sudden burst of energy of his came from, but she was... glad...to....
A sudden paralyzing fear gripped Melina.
She jumped up quickly bolting towards Bell and gripping him by his shoulders.
''I forbid it! I FORBID IT!,'' Bell was startled as Melina was starting to act hysterical.
''What?''
''You won't commit suicide on my watch. You thought you were slick and I wouldn't notice?! I forbid it, better yet I will chain you to myself if I must. I'll watch you 24/7!,'' Melina desperately informed. She could not lose her only son.
Bell starred blankly at her, before looking in annoyance at the ceiling. What was it with everyone thinking he was suicidal today? Jesus Christ, he never even contemplated the thought, it was just not his style. Well... not that one chooses to be suicidal, but...
Anyway.
Better calm her down.
''Right. I'm gonna put a stop to that thought. I don't know what mental gymnastics you performed to arrive at that conclusion, but I assure you I am anything but suicidal,'' Bell replied with some force as he removed Melinas hands from his shoulders and held it in his own.
''My sudden burst of energy and positivity is not the last breath of a man who made up his mind. Look, I had something that troubled me, a chip on my shoulder so to speak, one that i took care off. I'm no longer carrying baggage with me everywhere I go, so please calm down and stop assuming I'm suicidal. Alright?,'' Bell tried calming her down.
She looked pale and watched him like a hawk for a while, trying to spot a lie in his face. She was still his mother and felt confident enough to know when her son was lying to her.
After a few moments she slowly nodded.
''Okay, but we are sleeping together for the next few days,'' Melina left no room for arguments.
Bell suppressed a cringe, at the possible awkwardness that would ensue. He sighed.
''Sure,'' Bell amended.
...
Bell slept like a dead log, being spooned protectively by his mother.
So much for lying awake for hours, until finally falling asleep uncomfortably.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Two days later Bell entered Stans pizzeria.
''Well, look who dragged himself at my doorstep. You standing there, I assume, can only mean one thing,'' Stan was cleaning glasses again.
Bell rolled his eyes and took a seat at the stool.
''Oh, please. As if you haven't spied on me via my mother. But, yeah, I have come here to apologize too. I was giving you a lot of grief over, essentially, nothing,'' Bell began.
''No. It was not nothing if it tormented you so. I'll not have you downplay it. And I would be more inclined to accept your apology if you tell me the choice you made,'' Stan told him.
''Smooth. I will never lose my guilt, Stan. But... I will live in spite of it. I have chosen the middle ground between both choices. All it took was you smashing me through three galaxies. Please tell me I did at least somewhat good,' Bell begged theatrically.
''I mean you made me bleed, granted that was because I was not taking you seriously, but still. And if nothing else you can tank the mother of all beatings, so at least your survivability is high. If that is not a sign of you going in the right direction then I don't know. Of course, you still need to train a lot, I noticed you didn't try out some things against me,'' Stan gave his assessment.
''Yeah, I will soon get to rectifying that. Can you make me my favorite tea, you know the one,'' Bell requested.
''Make it yourself,'' Stan snapped back playfully.
''This is a business and I am a paying costumer. Why else would I come her, but to order something to consume? Sure I could make it myself but it is a matter of principle!,'' Bell engaged in the banter.
''Yeah, yeah. What are you gonna do? File a complaint?,'' Stan murmured as he brought out a cup and began making his tea thee normal way.
''To the Living Tribunal, yes,'' Bell handed over the money and blew a little on the tea.
''Now, I'm glad that you have made major progress in regards to your mental health,''' Stan began ad then stayed silent.
''Mhmh., can you let the other shoe drop too?,'' Bell took a sip from his tea.
''I'm glad you asked. Now, since i helped you, you could help me. Tell me everything of the world you came from,'' Stan eagerly requested.
''Are you sure? It was a rather boring world. There was no magic and no gods. You probably won't be hearing anything new,'' Bell asked him.
''Maybe. But that is not the point. The fact is I don't know. Maybe I won't be hearing anything new, but the novelty is in not knowing and having to ask questions for clarity. So, chop chop. Serenade me with otherwordly knowledge,'' Stan slapped his hand gently on the counter.
''Fine. Stop your sugar rush behavior. I suppose I could start with...,'' Bell began.
(A.N.: 8247 words. Less then the last few chapters, but I thought it appropriate as it focuses on only one thing and it is still above the promised 5k+ words. Bell will still have some issues, so his character arc is still not quiet over, but it will take a big step back from the focus from here on out as the story progresses.
He made the biggest most important step towards healing in this chapter.
All in all, I'm much more satisfied with this character arc then the one in my other story where he had one conversation and then almost immediately moved on from his guilt. It also was even earlier in the story, Chapter 5 or something. I'm glad i took my time and spread his character arc over several chapters. Hopefully you enjoyed reading it. Cheers.)