Disclaimer: I do not own the original canon nor am I making any profit from writing this piece. All works are accredited to their original authors, performers, and producers while this piece is mine. No copyright infringement is intended. I acknowledge that all views and opinions expressed herein are merely my interpretations of the characters and situations found within the original canon and may not reflect the views and opinions of the original author(s), producer(s), and/or other people.
Warnings: This story may contain material that is not suitable for all audiences and may offend some readers. This particular piece has minor references to body dysphoria. Please utilize understanding of personal sensitivities before and while reading.
Author's Note: Just to make it clear off the bat, this fic uses the headcanon that Peter Parker is trans. If that makes you uncomfortable in any way, you are free to skip out of the story now. Reviews and comments attacking the trans aspect itself will be considered flames and used to roast marshmallows. I do acknowledge that no amount of gender studies will make up for the fact that I am not trans, which is why this story is from May's perspective, not Peter's, in order to not presumptuously tell a story which is not mine to tell. On a final note, the name Penelope comes from a run of Marvel where Peter Parker is female.
Challenge/Competition Block:
Stacked with: Lessons Learned; Not Commonwealth; Seriously Important (Not); Sky's the Limit; Terms of Service; By Any Other Name; Fem Power Challenge
Representations: Learning together; Peter Parker; Dumpster Shenanigans; Trans Character; Nurses/Parenting; Parkers; May Reilly Parker
Bonus Challenges: Mermaid; Second Verse (Not a Lamp); Second Verse (Non-Traditional); Second Verse (Nightingale); Second Verse (Tomorrow's Shade); Second Verse (Brooms Only); Second Verse (Car in a Tutu)
Word Count: 1040
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Treasure
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Penelope was three when her parents died. May had many doubts about how she was going to a parent when she had only been a wife for six months, but taking in her niece? There were no doubts about that. There was no way that she could abandon that sweet little girl.
From the very start, May knew that Penelope was special. Even as young as she was, the girl was already reading anything she could get her tiny hands on. Technology was also at risk of being taken apart under Penelope's insatiable curiosity. Luckily, by the time, Penny was five, she could also put it back together so that it worked because their budget could not stretch to constantly replace remotes and toasters.
That was also when Penny decided to cut her hair. May had tucked her niece into bed with her curls carefully collected into a fishtail braid. When she had gotten up to get Penny ready for a trip to the museum, the braid was on the bathroom sink. Penny had tried to hide the scissors still in her hand as she had stammered about how she could explain. The little girl had looked so scared that May had done the only thing she could have. She pulled Penny into her arms and held her tight until she had stopped shaking. All the while, May had ran a hand through Penny's newly-shorn locks.
"It is your hair, my treasure," May told her in Italian. She kissed Penny's forehead. "If you want it short, then short it will be, but the hiding? That is a problem. I have to be able to trust you to be safe, honey, just like you have to be able to trust me to help you."
Things shifted after that.
Penny had always hated wearing dresses or really, anything frilly and obviously girly. Even her gymnastic outfits couldn't have sequins or obviously feminine characteristics lest Penny refuse to wear them. Her favorite colors were bright red and bold blue, which May didn't mind because they went great with Penny's coloring, but trying to find clothes in those colors that weren't in the boy section was a headache. Eventually, May washed her hands of trying at all. Penny didn't mind quote/unquote boys' clothes and if she was hard on electronics, the child was even harder on play clothes due to her growing habit of dumpster diving for things to experiment with and May only had the energy to worry about things that actually mattered.
Penny was eleven when May found her hiding in their small bathroom, topless and sobbing. Uncertain what the problem was, May had done the only thing she could have done. She pulled Penny into her arms and held her tightly until the tears calmed. All the while, she ran a hand through Penny's still short hair.
"I don't know what the problem is," May said softly, instinctively slipping into Italian, "but I'm sure we can make it better, my treasure. But first you have to trust me enough to share the problem."
"I don't want them," Penny whispered, hiding her face in May's shoulder. "They're wrong and I don't want 'em but they're keep getting bigger anyway and I know it's natural—" There was an ugliness to the way Penny said the word that was completely at odds with how loving she normally was to even the brats who picked on her. May squeezed her tighter. "—but I don't like them. They're not supposed to be there, which doesn't make sense, I know, but that's how I feel."
May felt something go still and silent inside of her at those words. Almost twenty years as a nurse had many benefits, especially when one worked in an ER in any of New York's boroughs. It had come in handy many times when her reckless and precocious child had needed first aid after an adventure. Now it was giving her a new perspective on all of Penny's quirks. Her eyes now open to the potential, May couldn't fathom how she had possibly missed it in the first place.
Unfortunately, Penny had misread May's sudden stillness, stiffening in her arms before starting to pull away.
"It's stupid," Penny excused, clearly intending to ramble her way out of her confession. May let her pull away just enough that she could see her face. She used her thumbs to wipe away a few lingering tears.
"Nothing is stupid if it upsets you this much, honey," May told her as firmly as possible. Holding eye contact, she continued just as strongly. "It is your body, my treasure. If you want to change any part of it, you can—within reason, because I'm still not signing off on that Iron Man tattoo, no matter how much you pout—and we'll figure out how to do it as safely as possible."
"Really?" Penny asked, looking like she was about to start crying again. She shivered, reminding May that she had been topless this whole time. May rubbed her bare arms to give her to comfort her. "You're not going to freak out and kick me out or tell me that it's normal and everyone feels that way."
"I can if you really want," May offered, "and don't think I'm not mad about you trying to hide that you felt this way from me, but you'll always be my treasure, and I will always be here for you." She tweaked Penny's nose, drawing out a relieved smile as brilliant as the sun itself. "Now let's see if that thrift store a couple blocks over has anything we could use as a binder."
A month later was when Penny had curled into May's side as she sat on the couch and had whispered his desire to be called Peter instead. May had many doubts about her ability to be a parent of a child smart and active and good as the one God had brought to her through tragedy and love. Her heart ached a little for the trials that laid ahead of them, and it was ahead of them, because there was no way she could abandon that sweet child.
Peter was her treasure, no matter what.
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An Ending
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