Chapter Text
Spiderman swung his arm back and threw it forward into the thug who was harassing the woman. He flew back into the wall on the other side of the alley and Peter pulled the woman behind him. Then he quickly flicked his wrist and shot spider webs at the thug. He stuck to the wall in seconds, he struggled but could not escape.
Spiderman turned to address the woman, but she was already running down the alley. “Your welcome!” shouted Spiderman. He made a huffing noise. So ungrateful, why do I even bother saving people? Even as he thought that he pictured Uncle Ben. He knew, for Uncle Ben, he wouldn’t stop. He turned back toward the thug, looks like a Jake, Peter mused. He fake sneezed and shot the guy in the crotch, earning him a whimper. He approached “Jake” and said, “Okay Jake” His voice sounded deeper and more threatening because of the device on the inside of his mask to make his voice sound less like a kid so he would be taken more seriously and to protect his identity. “what do you have in here, he put his hand into Jake’s pocket grabbing a phone.
He took Jake’s phone ignoring the muffled “Hey!” of protest and called 911. “911 what’s your emergency?” a female voice came through the phone. “Hey Jill! Spiderman here with another person to pick up. We’re in an alley behind 7th avenue.” He hung up and checked the time on the phone. The clock read 2:23. Good time to stop for the night, I’ve got that Spanish quiz tomorrow, he thought. Shooting a web, he headed back toward his house in Queens.
He quietly landed on his roof and opened the window slowly. He quietly crept into his room, slowly peeling off the suit. He grabbed a shirt from his drawer and pulled on a clean pair of boxers. He all but fell on his bed and drifted off into sleep listening to the sounds of the city.
¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬ Break line
From the distant corners of sleep, Peter heard an obnoxious beeping noise. As he started to wonder what it was, it suddenly grew louder. Peter sat up with a start and looked over at his nightstand. The clock read 6:34! He was going to be late (again). As he scrambled around looking for clean clothes he could wear, he wondered why Aunt May hadn’t woken him up. He pushed that thought aside and started pulling on his suit followed by the rest of his clothes. He looked at himself in the mirror making sure no red or blue spandex was showing, then quickly running a hand threw his messy hair in a failed attempt to make it less wild. He picked up his phone, an iPhone 5 and checked the time, 6:42 Tuesday, April 3. He stuffed the phone into his pocket and looked him over one last time, sighing at the bruises covering his face, the only ones he can’t hide.
Grabbing his backpack and swinging it over one shoulder, he headed toward the door only pausing for a moment to pick up his skate board. He slowly headed down the stairs only now feeling his sore bruises now that the adrenaline wore off. As he approached the kitchen, his Spidey sense started to go off. Peter stopped and looked around confused. His Spidey sense hadn’t been wrong before, so what could be wrong now?
It kept getting stronger the closer he got to the kitchen. He stopped in front of the door, his head aching from the waves that screamed danger. He grabbed the door knob carefully, (He didn’t want a repeat of his first day with powers, if you know what I mean) and twisted it. Then he pushed the door open and gasped. He couldn’t move, it was as if someone petrified him and as much as he wanted to move, to look away, to wake up from this nightmare, he couldn’t. If his head wasn’t spinning with emotions, he might’ve noticed this was cliché as hell.
On the floor, in the kitchen sat his worst nightmare, worse than any villain he had ever faced. (The author of this terrible fic needs to stop teasing and being dramatic now) On the floor, was Aunt May, cheek against the tile. Her eyes staring at nothing, lips apart as if she were silently screaming. One hand squished between her and the tile against her heart.
Peter heard screaming but did not know where, it sounded distant, way farther than his own head and pounding heart. Then he ran to her, kneeled by her body and gently rolled her over. Her arm flopped useless next to her. He grabbed the arm and put two fingers on her wrist, checking for a pulse. A beat of silence seemed to pass but no pulse came from the arm. I must be doing it wrong, I should have paid more attention in health class.
Suddenly, his face felt wet and he realized he was crying. Everything was becoming blurry. He felt numb and it was hard to focus long enough to realize what was going on and what his body was doing. He didn’t like feeling this out of control, he hadn’t felt this loss ever. Not after Gwen or Uncle Ben or even when he woke up and could suddenly stick to things. But that was because he still had something still had May.
“Aunt May?” No response. “Please Aunt May wake up, move, something, I’ll do anything. Please wake up.” Nothing happened but he kept rambling and saying, “Aunt May” and “please” repeatedly.
He didn’t know when he picked up his phone but soon he heard a female voice say “911 what’s your emergency?” Peter heard the calm in her voice and decided to focus on the one calm thing happening to him right now. He took a big, shaky breath and “Help! She’s not waking up she’s just laying there andidontknowwhattodo! HELP!” His breath had picked up speed and he was finding it harder and harder to breath. The voice on the other end started talking again in the same calm voice but this time he couldn’t focus.
He vaguely heard a phone drop to the ground. He could barely move but one thing he could do was sob. He didn’t know what was happening, was he in shock? Was he hyperventilating? He guessed it was the latter. He was almost certain he was correct because a pair of hands grabbed him and faced him away from his Aunt and to her. The woman had long, brown hair that curled at the end and grayish green eyes. She wore makeup and had a light-colored lipstick that was like someone mixed pink with peach. She looked good, and that made him feel like even more of a mess, with shabby clothes and messy, untamed hair.
Doe brown eyes met green eyes. Hers were calm but they held a glimpse of sympathy. He started to hear her voice, “Breathe with me ok? In … out … In … out … in … out.” Soon he had normal breathing and could focus but he still felt numb.
----------- Another breakline
He soon found himself in an office with the same lady sitting behind a desk. He was seated in a chair on the other side of her desk. In front of him there were Rubik’s Cubes, puzzles, and little action figures. They were probably for little kids, but he took a Rubik’s Cube anyway and started trying to solve it.
The lady’s name turned out to be Mrs. Jarren who started explaining how he would be put into foster care and that she was his social worker and if anything was wrong with his foster parent he should call her. Right after she said this part they traded phone numbers. Peter put his phone back in his pocket and placed the solved Rubik’s Cube on the desk. Mrs. Jarren just stared at it for a little bit before saying, “Wow.” and started writing something in a manila folder which he guessed was his. She went back to explaining what would happen. Soon she started talking about a funeral and grief hits him harder than Flash.
By the time she finished, Peter had solved all the Rubik’s Cubes, puzzles, and had positioned the action figures to resemble a fight with the avengers attacking each other and army men positioned around them aiming at different people. She took a picture of all the contents on her desk and hooked her phone up to her computer. Soon she had a printed photo of what he did, she flipped it over and wrote Peter Parker, then wrote 10 minutes. He turned around and looked at the clock hanging from the wall and it showed that he had been here for a little over 10 minutes even though her boring speech made it feel like an hour.
Then he realized what was actually happening, he was being put in foster care, he was going to live with strangers who would want to know where the bruises came from. But he couldn’t tell them, Spiderman must stay a secret because … Wait a second, everyone’s dead. I can be selfish without killing other people! But I won’t have a job because I take selfies for a living. Then again other people will probably hire me because I’ll be famous. Bad things could happen too, it would be like putting a target on my back. No, Spiderman must stay a secret and that’s not happening in foster care. This thought happened in only seconds, but Peter knew he made the right choice.
“E-excuse me? I need to go to the bathroom.” Peter said lying through his teeth.
Mrs. Jarren looks up surprised but she still puts the picture in the folder. “Okay honey.” She responds in a sweet voice. She stands and walks over to Peter where he is already standing. She puts a hand on his back and they walk out into the hallway. They turn right and continue walking. Peter looks at a hallway as he passes it and sees a double door with a green exit sign. His heart leaps, freedom is only a few feet away! He thought happily, but then he saw the guard and he mentally groaned. For kids planning to do what I’m doing. He thought with disappointment.
They continued walking past the exit, down the hallway. They took a left and there was a boy’s restroom. He quickly ran inside to get away from that woman. She’s nice but there is too much pity in her gaze. He shut and locked the door and turned around and there in all of its beauty, above the toilet, a window.
For the last time in a while, Peter smiled. Perfect.