Hola! (That's Spanish for "hello", if you didn't know.) I wanted to update another one of my stories, but I came up with this idea. Plus, I mean, it was Thanksgiving, too. So, Happy - late - Thanksgiving if you celebrate it. Did ya do anything fun?
I hope you enjoy this one-shot. I will have my other stories updated really soon, I promise. I've just been busy with, y'know, life.
So sit back and relax. Grab a snack, if you must...
...and read on.
School just let out, and the one thing on Peter Parker's mind was that he had to get to that alley as quick as possible to be Spider-Man for as long as possible. It was only after he jumped over eight and a half foot school fence that he thought it was a bad idea - someone could have realized that Peter the nerd shouldn't be able to jump at all (hints taken from gym class previously), let alone over a fence that high.
But he's a stupid high school kid at the moment with a goal, so what do you expect? Nothing is going to get in his way to stop him from messily undressing in that alley. Nothing except for maybe a car. But Peter didn't know that until it was too late.
New York. 3:00pm. Tuesday. Close enough to rush hour - okay, not really - that Peter should have waited to cross the street like a normal human being. Even if he isn't a normal human being in the first place.
But, you know, stupid teenager with a goal, so cut him some slack.
The sun was high in the sky and it was a perfect temperature - not too hot but not too cold. And thank the Lord for that because Peter didn't want to deal with having to swing around Queens in just spandex as it snowed. He also didn't want to be dripping in sweat. But those two different parts of the year are a whole nother story so let's not get into that just now. There were fluffy clouds that spotted the sky above and pedestrians busily walking around.
He already stopped at the best sandwich shop in town so he had food later. That's normally what he did as Spider-Man. Around 6:00pm he'd sit on the edge of a building and munch on his favorite hoagie as he watched the streets below for action and give Iron Man - well, Happy Hogan - a call about what happened so far. Lately, it's been pretty boring. But he was still on a high from Germany; fighting Captain Amercia can top anything easily.
So he started to sprint across one of the most busiest streets to the alley no one goes in to change into his suit. And you'd think that his spider senses would warn him before the impact so he could get out of being slammed by the car hood. But his mind was clouded, and he was in a rush, so it was too late.
The driver of the car was another story. He saw Peter running and immediately started to honk his horn. Peter looked like a deer in headlights as he turned to the left to just see a blue blurr before he flew forward and landed in the middle of the street. His hand twitched backwards, flinging the sandwich farther. The backpack containing his suit was still on his back, which slid across the street.
But he shook his head and sat up like it was nothing - other than a slight headache, it wasn't anything bad. Because, in his case, it really wasn't. He'd slammed into Captain America's unbreakable shield at this same speed, and still got up and fought. So yeah, Peter's had worse. But it isn't everyday that some kid gets hit with a car, so people froze and stared. And it's even rarer when the kid starts to stand up already.
The driver of the car was already out and running towards Peter, pushing him back on the ground. "Woah, hey?" the man said, easing Peter to sit again.
He was probably about mid twenties, early thirties. The man wore a suit and his hair was slicked back as if he was leaving some business early. Peter noticed a shinny watch on his wrist, and fancy shoes on his feet.
"I'm fine," Peter breathed, blinking and trying to wrap his head around what just happened. He looked down at his pants to see a little hole by his knee. Well, not that it mattered much; they were old pants anyways. "Really, it's okay."
The man started to breath a bit heavy. He looked around as other pedestrians walked up to where the accident was, causing traffic to completely stop. Peter could tell he didn't know what to do. The man quickly looked back to his car and saw the small dent in the hood. He let out a huff. "My wife is going to kill me," he winced, then remembered that he hit a teenager with his car. "Are you sure?" he asked. "I can take you to a hospital and-"
"No!" Peter interrupted.
He could not go to a hospital; not now, not ever. If he did go because he was ever forced, the nurses and doctors and everyone there would find the radioactive spider blood in his own, and know that he's is in fact Spider-Man. And you know, he did not need that because then they'd tell the public and the cops...and then Peter's aunt, May. So, yeah. Getting a trip to the hospital was even more scarier than it used to be. Peter would rather get hit my a car a couple more times.
Peter nodded, and had to find something to make his sudden outburst seem like nothing. People stared now at the kid who just got flung into the street by a car and demanding not to see a hospital. Maybe they thought he should see a mental doctor instead. "Y-yeah, I've had worse," he said.
The man cocked his head to the side. "You have?" he asked, clearly not understanding.
Oops, Peter thought. Of course he doesn't understand; no one knew that Peter was Spider-Man. Well, other than Tony Stark, but he doesn't count. And no one else really knew anything about Germany, other than what everyone else had gathered up from news and the way they left the place: a bunch of masked heroes had a battle royale there. It was his deep, dark secret. He needed to come up with a lie to cover it up now. Like he always did with his aunt, and friends. Oh, he was running out of things to say.
"It's complicated."
Well, that was a great one, Peter.
"Do you want me to call your parents?"
This guy. Ugh, seriously. "I don't...I live with my aunt," Peter responded. "But no, honestly I'm okay."
Peter started to stand up, rubbing the dust off his clothes and making sure his backpack was kept closed. Because if it wasn't, that's a whole nother story, but let's just say he'd be in even more trouble. The man backed up a few steps before it looked like a lightbulb went off in his head. He ran back to his car and popped open the driver's door, pulling out a card. He then wipped it on his pants as he returned back to Peter.
"Here," he said, stabbing the card in Peter's direction. "Take it. If you need anything, I'd be happy to help."
Peter looked down at the card, seeing it was for a bussiness. It was green with shiny lines around the side, boarding in the information. "Uh, thanks, James," he responded, finally looking up.
"Don't take this the wrong way," the man - James - started as he guided Peter to the edge of the street. "But I'm glad it was you and not some other kid I accidentally hit. I'm sure anyone else would have almost died and lost it completely."
Did he know? Was he slowly putting the pieces together? Did James know that Peter was Spider-Man? Fear ran through Peter's bones. He thought he was overreacting then. His aunt still didn't know and they live together. Why - how? - could some random guy find it out easily after a few minutes?
Yet again, it isn't everyday a kid walks off getting hit by a car like that.
The rest of Peter's afternoon was hectic. He finally got to slip away from James and change into his suit from Anthony Stark. And after a pretty boring watch, there was a bank robbery with high tech weapons and people in Avenger's masks. Peter let them get away because he choose to save Mr. Delmare instead - the owner of the sandwich shop - and his cat.
But it got worse, because Edward - Ned - Leeds, who is Peter's best friend, found out about his superhero identy.
Well, it wasn't Peter's fault! He didnt know Ned would be in his room as he threw off the Spider-Man mask and crawled on the ceiling to shut his bedroom door so Aunt May didn't see him. And no spider senses went off because Ned is anything but a threat. Tomorrow - and the rest of the year, knowing Ned - Peter will have to explain everything. But for now, he kicked his best friend out of his bedroom and was out eating thai with May.
"I think he larbs you," Peter continued the conversation, pointing his chop stick at the waiter who just dropped off extra food at their table.
May shrugged, grabbing the free sticky rice pudding anyways and putting her hand to her chest in suprise. She placed the plate in front of her and shifted in her seat. "So, I'm not even going to ask about why you need a new backpack," she said, "but do you know what happened on 106th Avenue?"
Well, of course Peter did. "No, what?" he lied anyways, leaning on the table like he was intrigued.
"A high schooler got hit with a car," May replied.
"Oh?" Peter asked, trying to make it sound like he didn't hear of any of this before. "What happened?"
May took a bite then continued. "Well the driver said he didn't get a name of the kid, but he had brown hair and brown eyes. I'd say it could be you, but you look completely okay."
Peter nodded. "Yep, no bruises here."
"And if something did happen to you like that you would tell me, I presume."
"Right away, May." Peter played with his food, twisting it around with the chop sticks. Man, this was getting uncomfortable.
"It wasn't much, but it still made it on the news; the kid ran across the street," May started, "the car horn honked, he got hit, and still walked away with ease." She paused, taking in her nephew's expression. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing. Just like I said before I'm just tired with that Stark Internship," Peter replied.
"You do know that you look both ways before you cross?" May asked. "And wait at a cross walk."
Peter smiled, happy his aunt was still in an happy mood. "Yes, I do," he said, pushing his plate forward a bit in response to his full stomach. "You raised me right."
May laughted. "Oh, no," she said. "That was your uncle."
Ah, Uncle Ben. He was the best. Peter and him just fitted too well together. And even if it may not completely be Peter's own fault, he still accepted all of the blame for his uncles death. Because he could have stopped it; he should have stopped it. Peter felt his face sadden and his aunt perked up a bit.
"Peter," she started, softly rubber her hand against her nephew's check, "I miss him as much as you do."
"I know, but it just hurts to remember he's gone," he answered.
May dropped her hand. Peter knew she didn't want the conversation to dip in this direction. "There was nothing you could have done," she added.
Peter took in a deep breath. "I'm feeling really tired, May," he repeated from before. He though if he worded it like that she would pick up he waned to leave.
And thank the Lord she did. "Oh, right," May responded. She turned in her seat and a waiter walked over. "We'll have the check now."
The waiter nodded and May have a small, "Thanks," before looking back at her nephew. "Gonna go to bed when you get home?" she asked.
"Yeah."
"Dont you have like a Spanish quiz coming up soon?" May asked as Peter nodded. "You studied for that, right?"
"Yeah."
May handled the check and paid. Peter wanted to put some money in himself to pay, but he knew his aunt wouldn't allow that. He always though that she did too much for him, yet she never let him help like he wanted to.
They arrived home and Peter walked into his room. He ran his hands through his hair and plopped on his bed. Things were hectic for him. He had school to think about, and this problem with Ned, his crush Liz, now he had to think about those weird alien guns the people at the bank used. All of this, without anyone's help. He couldn't let May help because it was, well, May. Tony Stark was out of the picture because Peter had - he wanted to - prove that he could handle it on his own.
Ned...well perhaps he was an option.
But Peter had more lies piling up. The car crash just added to the pile. Life has its ups and downs, though, and so sooner to later Peter will get through this all.
