A/N: Hey everyone! So I haven't seen Homecoming yet as seen as it's brand new, so this spidey is kind of based on the Amazing Spiderman and what I know so far of the fresh avengers version. I know some bits may not be 100% correct but I had fun writing it so- meh, enjoy!


Peter yawned, his left hand flicked outright as a final spurt of web flicked towards the last thief of the night. He'd had a busy day, studying for exams during the day and fighting bad guys at night made for a tiring experience. On top of that he'd been searching frantically to sell one of his photographs to the daily bugle; but being so tired meant his shots had been tasteless and blurry.

A muffled yell came from the man glued to the wall behind, but Peter simply waved his hand.

"Yeah, yeah… tell it to the police." He grunted, not even bothering to glance back. Sure it was fun being Spiderman, but it was also nice to get a good night sleep. That's exactly what he was hoping for.

Glancing up, helicopters circled the building he stood on; a high rise, since he had chased the robbers to the top as they had tried to escape the bank below. Alas, he waved his arm gently and they noticed where he stood. But seen as he was in uniform, Peter knew it was time for him to leave.

Right hand flicked out this time, he blasted out a web and pulled himself away from the crime scene. Quicker than you could shout Spiderman, Peter had already bounced between buildings and lowered himself into his street; flinging himself to his bedroom window.

He'd learnt to keep the window unlocked, but in a manner that seemed like it had been closed in order to avoid suspicion from Aunt May. With a simple movement, the boy stuck to the wall before dropping down onto the window sill; pushing the glass open.

It had to be done quickly at quietly, to avoid any suspicion from the neighbours next door or from Aunt May sleeping inside. Window open, he tucked and rolled inside; falling upon the bed.

A sigh escaped his lips as his bruised back hit the cushiony softness of the blankets; the sweet scent of washing powder calming.

It was a painful chore to have to move his arm in order to pull his mask off his face; the Spiderman mask detained as he was now back to his old self. Hair amuck, eyes tired and his face a sweaty mess from dancing around buildings.

But he didn't want to move and have a shower, nor could he be bothered to continue taking off his costume. If anything, he just wanted to curl up and sleep right where he sat.

However, just as he had decided he would do just that, a loud vibrating noise caused him to practically shoot upright and have a minor heart attack; his eyes looking around frantically as a loud bell rang.

At first he wasn't sure what to think, but after the first chime he realised it was his phone. And it wasn't on his person.

Had he really been so tired that he'd left his phone at home the entire day?

In fact it seemed like it was hidden, as it sounded muffled.

His eyes grew wide, and he couldn't help but panic for a slight moment. Before his powers, his would have stumbled off the bed and scampered through his mess to find his mobile; but now he was more agile he practically did a backflip to leave his bed of dreams.

He tossed his mask into his wardrobe and pushed his arms into a mixture of pre-washed and unwashed clothing; in hopes that he would quickly yank out his phone. But it seemed his phone was not in there and he was forced to keep searching. With a sleepy groan, Peter made an agonising sound and fell to his knees in order to do a feeble inspection of the ground.

He searched for a while, that even the ringing had ceased to an end; but still there was no sign of his valuable.

He wracked his brain quickly, his mind tricking him into thinking that perhaps there were secrets on his phone. What if he'd left it lying around and someone had texted him about being Spiderman? What if this was a test? Or what if his senses were playing tricks right now, and he was so tired he was feeling insane?

Peter raised a brow at his own thoughts, shaking his head. Thinking such things was just as insane. Why was his mind getting carried away?

Again it rang, the second time since he had arrived home.

No, there was no way it was a trick. It was real, and it was coming from outside his room. He knew that now as he'd paused and felt it.

His head slowly turned towards the door, and he hovered upright and into a standing position.

It was habit that forced him to pull off his suit in an awkward manner; but alas the next moment he wore a shirt and long pyjama pants.

He tossed his suit backwards and stepped towards the door.

Ring. Ring.

Ring. Ring.

He took a breath before letting his fingers wrap around the door.

Ring. Ring.

Ring. Ring.

It grew nearer. Louder.

Like someone was bringing it towards him.

Carefully, Peter pushed down on the handle; the door swinging open in one perfect sweep.

The second he did so, her eyes met his and the look of hurt was evident.

Shocked, the boy jumped and she echoed his movement; her own eyes widening as she realised the two of them had frightened one another.

There stood Aunt May, Peter's phone in one hand; it being used like a torch. Her other hand held up her dressing coat, so to avoid walking on the silky fabric.

"Peter."

His eyes looked between her warm brown eyes and his phone. The ringing had come to a stop again, but her cold looking fingers avoided him from being able too see who the missed calls were from.

Peter slumped, Aunt May looked upset; annoyed perhaps. He found that he'd need to quickly force himself to act relaxed. He had nothing to be panicked about… he hadn't done anything… right?

"Uh… A-Aunt May… You found my phone!" He said in a whispered tone, his arm outstretching as he went to take it from her hands.

Though Aunt May pulled back, moving the device away from the boy as her brows narrowed in a warning manner.

Something was wrong.

"What… what's wrong?" Peter asked quietly, his hand raking through his hair, nervous for her reply. He was confused, but she wore a look of concern… anger… betrayal perhaps?

Was it that perhaps… she knew…?

His own expression simmered, cautious of what she may reply.

Aunt May simply pressed her lips together, her arm swinging around her waist as the phone now clutched to her chest as if protecting it.

"Why would you do this?"

"Wh…what? Look, I can explain-" Peter's heart propelled, his mind quickly exploding, desperate to find words. Anything to assure her that he could no way possibly be Spiderman! But that was hard to prove wrong when it was true…

"How could you do that to her?"

Peter froze, a waver of puzzlement. Her. There was no her, not when it came to Spiderman. There was only he and his webs.

"Her?"

Aunt May furrowed her eyebrows in the darkness and then pressed the only button on his phone. The screen lit back up and she pointed it out towards him.

It read '8 missed calls from Mary Jane'. Below were several messages.

They read:

'Peter, I'm here, are you running late?.

'Did you go to the right library?'

'I tried calling you.'

'Please pick up.'

'Peter.'

'I can't wait much longer, you know I had curfew.'

'Peter.'

'I'm going home see you at school.'

Peter's face dropped. He'd been so tired he'd forgotten that Mary Jane had agreed to help him study today.

She'd waited all night for him.

And even now she was still calling, probably checking up on him.

It seemed Aunt May sensed his honest mistake, for she had now outstretched Peter's phone towards him.

"I didn't realise…" He took it delicately from her fingers, and she squeezed his hand gently after letting go of the device.

"Just give her a call Peter. You can fix things." Aunt May said, now supportive.

Peter nodded.

"And… then please get some rest. You look tired." She whispered, leaning forward to kiss his cheek.

He lowered himself slightly, so as to show his gratitude and watched as Aunt May turned to return to her bedroom.

"Goodnight, Peter." She said as she disappeared into the darkness.

Peter simply looked down at his phone.

When did it become time to realise the super hero life… was sometimes a little too much when you had normal life stuff to take care of.

He'd been so worried about Aunt May knowing, that he didn't even realise she was simply sad for a girl that Peter knew.

With a shake of his head, he too turned back to his room.

Mary Jane deserved a little more than an apology and he needed a goodnights rest.