A Sort of Bedtime Story
Author's Notes: My third of ten Parker Family fics for marveldrabbles at LJ. For the "Sore" challenge. This takes place in the Spider-Girl 'verse, but it shouldn't be too hard for non-SG fans to follow. (I hope!)
Peter could hear the sound of sirens as he hobbled into the house. Made a desperate, lucky, grab for his cane and pills. He kept falling on his way. The sounds that echoed through the house were almost like clockwork. A cane dragging through carpet, a shout, soft irritated mutterings, groaning, panting, and then silence. And repeat.
Until he reached her door.
May, of course, slept right through it.
"Hey, Mayday," he whispered. Then collapsed in the chair MJ had placed beside her crib for him. "Daddy's doctor would be very, very mad at him right now if he knew what Daddy did tonight. Oh, my leg is killing me."
She continued to slumber, even as Peter continued to babble, taking off his artificial leg and applying a topical creme to the stump. "See, Daddy's not supposed to strain his good leg right now. He talked to his friend, Dr. Connors, about his leg and Mr. Connors said 'Peter, that leg's all you've got now, and I'm afraid this artificial limb isn't meant to withstand any sort of intense activity... but then, welllll, some things happened and Doctor Connors started to get very scaly."
Peter glanced over at the crib and smiled. "And I have got to stop telling you things like that, or you're going to start talking and blabbing to your friends about how your Daddy's Spider-Man and then your Daddy will have to think of new ways to spy on you during dates and make sure you're... I kind of got lost in the middle of that, didn't I?" He shook his head.
"Sorry, these pills make Daddy kind of loopy."
Peter spent the next half hour just watching his daughter sleep. Seeing her little chest rise and fall. Seeing her toss and turn. Seeing her drool. After wiping it up, he said, "Your mother thinks I should stop. Says I can't save people any more.
Not with you here, and definitely not like this. What do you think?"
She, of course, said nothing.
"I think... she's probably right. I almost got someone killed today. Billy Connors. You don't know him yet, but you will. I'm slow now, and if I'd been just a second slower, that debris-" Peter hung his head. Took a deep breath. Then he kissed his daughter on the forehead and hobbled to the door.
"Good night, Mayday. Sweet dreams."