When Aunt May had fallen from her scooter and injured her hip on the pavement, she asked for Peter and Wade to come by as often as they could to help her in the first few days of her recovery. May was a strong, feisty woman, willing to stare danger and opportunity in the throat, but even she needed a couple of helping hands around when bedridden.
May was currently sitting up in bed, wrapped up in a large purple quilt, all cozy and relaxed. Wade was behind her, running a brush gently through her hair. He had on a look of immense concentration, tongue jutting just barely from his lip, brow wrinkled in focus.
Peter watched the site from the doorway, a tray of cookies and warm beverages in hand for the three of them. He could swear in that moment he fell into a deeper level of love with Wade.
