Chapter 12: The Spurious Friends
THURSDAY
Peter had managed to get little to no sleep that night; terrified May would come back and hit him again. When his alarm rang he felt almost grateful and climbed out of bed wearily. He changed his clothes and poked his head out the door looking both ways for May. When he didn't see her, he snuck out into the bathroom to finish getting ready. He inspected himself in the mirror as he brushed his teeth, the wounds had already faded. Only a slight yellowing bruise and a headache remained from the events of yesterday.
He sat at the breakfast table eating his cereal, it felt like all he'd been eating was cereal for the past month. The only noise was the clinking of his spoon hitting the porcelain and it felt strangely eerie. He walked out into the living room on his way out the door when he stopped at the coffee table. There were so many pills.
They were spread out on the table like pieces to an unfinished puzzle, bright white against the dark wood. He picked up an orange bottle. Codeine, prescribed for a Jonathan S. Waites, 60 milligrams, twice a day for 2 weeks. Fentanyl, twice a day prescribed for Tomas Owens. Hydromorphone for Meredith J. Porter and Oxycodone for Michael Harrison.
He set them down as they previously were. These seemed like serious medications, ones that he would be slapped for messing with. His senses suddenly warned him of something and he rushed out of the apartment before May could walk out of her bedroom. He wondered when he had started to think of her as enough of a threat to warrant a warning.
"Hey, Peter." Greeted Ned at Peter's locker. MJ watched him from behind the enthusiastic Ned, leaning against the lockers and hiding a concerned look behind a nonchalant façade.
"Hey." Peter greeted back wearily.
He opened his locker and put in his books carefully, before—he would throw them in recklessly and slam the locker shut ready to prepare for the busy school day ahead. But he felt like it would be good to practice so he could be quiet at home. He switched out his books and zipped up his bag, shouldering it.
"So, how are you doing?" asked Ned. "Like, after Tuesday."
Peter frowned in confusion before a look of realization came over him and he turned bright red.
"I'm okay." He said, withdrawn. He looked at the floor in embarrassment. And he and Ned began to follow MJ when she started walking to class ahead of them. Ned looked at him curiously.
"…You sure dude?"
Peter gave him an awkward thumbs-up and Ned accepted it.
"So, how was it with Mr Stark? Was it awesome? I bet it was awesome." Ned chattered, excitedly.
"Uh, not really. I got super sick and kinda threw up everywhere." Peter cringed at the memory. "I don't think Mr Stark is very happy with me for it."
Ned shrugged.
"That sucks dude."
They continued in silence until they reached their respective classrooms bidding farewell as they parted. When third period rolled around Peter felt exhausted. He was attempting to write notes but was simultaneously falling asleep in his chair, his notes becoming more and more illegible as his muscles slackened. He shook his head and rubbed his tired eyes, trying to awaken himself but the monotonous voice of the teacher as he read off the power point was becoming very hard to focus on.
He rested his head on his hand and the teacher answered a student's question. His eyes becoming harder to open and he laid his head down on the desk, pillowing it on his arm and taking notes with the other hand. Soon enough, he had fallen asleep, his pencil falling onto his unfinished notes.
Peter was startled awake by his teacher shaking his shoulder and his pencil and notes fell to the ground after he bumped them. His teacher picked them up setting them on his desk. Peter looked around and realized he was the only student left.
"Class is over, Peter."
Peter averted his eyes sheepishly and the teacher leaned against the desk in front of him.
"Are you feeling okay, Mr. Parker?"
Peter fiddled with the hem of his shirt.
"I'm fine, Mr. Dalton. I just didn't sleep well last night." He said, finally meeting the teacher's eyes. The man looked skeptical.
"You're a star student, Peter. Always have in A in this class—If I can get you to stop talking. Something going on at home? You seem quiet today."
Peter shook his head, this was his problem and his problem alone.
"No, sir. I'm sorry I fell asleep. I promise it won't happen again. I got most of the notes, I swear."
The teacher raised an eyebrow.
"I believe you. Still, the rules dictate that anyone caught sleeping during lecture gets detention. Unless you can think of any other suitable punishment?"
Peter began to tremble in fear. He didn't want to be hit, not at school.
"No, sir. Please. I promise I won't do it again." Peter pleaded, he felt his eyes grow wet. The teacher looked at him in concern and held the boy's shoulder in reassurance.
"Hey, hey, hey. It's alright, Peter. There's no need to cry." He said, pityingly. He sighed. "You'll just have one hour of detention on Friday afternoon. I'm sorry but you know the rules. Do you know where it is?"
Peter nodded and wiped his face with his sleeve. Thank goodness, he thought relieved, he might deserve to be hit, but he really didn't want to be—not at school. His teacher looked at him kindly.
"You're gonna be fine, Peter. Head on down to lunch before you miss it." He said, then left the teen to pack up his things. Peter quickly did so and went to the teacher's desk. Mr. Dalton looked up from his grade book.
"Thank you, Mr. Dalton." Peter said, relieved. He felt much better now that he knew the teacher would not punish him today, he felt it was only polite to show his gratitude. Although, he felt guilty because he knew he deserved it, the teacher was giving an important lecture and Peter had been rude and ungrateful by falling asleep in class.
The teacher looked up at him,
"What was that Mr. Parker?"
"I said thank you."
"Oh... um, you're welcome?" Peter shifted uneasily. He probably shouldn't be grateful for a detention, but at least he wasn't going to be hit.
An odd shadow passed over his teacher's face.
"Are you sure nothings going on at home? You're acting strange."
"I-um. I have to go. Lunch and all..." Peter said, then quickly left the room.
Peter sat down at the lunch table, Ned and MJ were already seated.
"Oh, hey dude. Did you get all the notes in History?" asked Ned, Peter shook his head and poked at his macaroni.
"I fell asleep and now I have detention on Friday." He replied, solemnly. He really didn't want to talk to anyone right now. He'd messed up, he'd made his teacher angry. Why couldn't he do anything right?
"Oh, that sucks… Do you want to copy mine?" asked Ned.
Peter nodded and Ned pulled out his notebook.
"Thanks Ned…"
Peter got to work, erasing and rewriting illegible notes and writing in the ones he had missed.
"So, I was thinking, we should hang out tonight. Like, work on the Ewok Village? We never finished it. And MJ said she wanted to come too. Well, actually she said we were lame but I'm pretty sure she wanted to come anyway."
MJ didn't look up and turned the page in her book. Quietly, she listened to the boy's conversation, adding her own input in her mind.
"Uh, well, May's not too happy with me right now…but I can ask her when I get home." Peter replied still writing.
"What'd you do?" asked Ned curiously.
"Um, I… well, she's pretty mad at me about the whole… vigilante-ing thing." he said distractedly.
Ned's eyes widened.
"She knows?" he whispered.
Peter tried to focus on writing and took a bite of an apple slice.
"Yeah, she sort of… walked in on me a while ago." He replied. "And she's not happy about it."
"Dude, that's insane."
Peter hummed, and finished the notes finally able to focus on the conversation.
"So, how mad is she?"
Peter thought about it and continued eating his lunch.
"She's… really mad. She wanted to take away my suit, but she hasn't found it yet. And she's been yelling a lot lately." He said thoughtfully. "You know how she started drinking after Ben died?" he asked his friend.
Ned nodded sadly. "Yeah, poor May. She was really torn up." Peter's heart clenched and he agreed.
"Yeah, she started drinking a lot again."
MJ looked up from her book, now paying close attention. Ned nodded in sympathy, it was probably a lot to take in for Peter's poor aunt.
"Yeah, she's not doing so well. I feel really guilty about it…" Peter continued, "She got really mad at me yesterday though. Hit me with a vase." He said nonchalantly and poked his vegetables with his fork. MJ's thoughts screeched to a halt and her mouth dropped open in shock.
"What the hell, Peter?" MJ said leaning against the table towards him. "She did what?"
Peter shrugged. It wasn't a big deal.
"She gets really mad sometimes, but it's okay. I can handle it." He said.
"You shouldn't have to. She shouldn't be hitting you at all."
Peter frowned.
"It's not like I can't take it. She got mad that's all. I'm fifteen. I'm not a little kid, and not to mention, I'm enhanced. I'm fine. Besides, soon, she won't even be mad so she won't even have to hit me anymore." He reassured stabbing his plate with his fork in annoyance.
"What the fuck, Peter?"
"What?"
"Have you always been this deluded? She's abusing you! You shouldn't need to worry if she's gonna hit you." She said, suddenly angry.
Peter, too, got angry and Ned watched still in shock at what he was hearing.
"Michelle, it's my business, not yours. And she's not…abusing me. She loves me, she's my aunt. She wouldn't do that. She's just… angry. She'll get over it soon enough and then things will be back to normal."
"Peter, Michelle's right—" Ned said suddenly.
"What? You're taking her side?" Peter interrupted, "You know May! You know how she gets! So what if sometimes she gets really mad and I get in the way. I was the one who made her mad in the first place! I should be the one who gets punished."
"Peter, she can't hit you, dude." Ned told him matter-of-factly.
"No, you guys don't get it. She's…she's May, she's all I have left." Peter said, then picked up his tray in annoyance.
"Peter, just because you're a mutant—" began Michelle, then went on a tangent about mutants having rights because they were people too, but Peter froze and had stopped listening. He dropped his lunch tray spilling leftover food on his shoes and splashing milk on the tiles. MJ and Ned stopped to stare at him. He felt his heart beat loud and fast in his ears, blocking out the noisy cafeteria. His breath quickening and his eyes wide on MJ.
"…Peter?" started Ned, and with that Peter began to run. The students turned at the commotion to see him burst out of the lunch room's heavy doors. He ran into the bathroom and into the last stall. Ned and MJ came crashing in after him and he locked the stall door just in time for Ned to thump against it. He curled up on the floor and tried his best to breath but his chest was so tight and he could only wheeze.
Ned and MJ heard him from behind the door and began to panic too.
"Peter?!" called Ned.
Peter hid his face in his arms and ignored them. MJ knocked on the door.
"Peter? What's wrong? What happened?"
Peter said nothing. He curled his fingers in his hair, tugging just so he could focus on something else. His chest heaved a he was close to hyperventilation, all he could think about was May. She was screaming through his bedroom door. Calling him a monster, a mutant, an animal. He couldn't breathe.
Michelle didn't know what to do. What had she said that had caused her friend to react like this? She needed to get to him. She studied the door and got an idea. She suddenly got down on her knees and crawled under the door. Within the stall, Peter was as small as he could be crushed against the wall under the window and pulling his hair, she could hear how he was struggling.
"Peter?" she asked warily.
He flinched and curled up tighter. Her heart clenched at her friend's distress, she needed to do something. She stepped closer and sat in front of him. He didn't react. She touched his shoulder. This time he did react. And violently.
He uncurled and pushed her back hard. She stumbled and fell backwards onto the bathroom floor, bruising her forearms and smacking her head on the tile. She sat up slowly and raised a hand to the back of her head. There was no blood and she would be fine but it did hurt. She looked at the boy.
Peter had backed away from her, curling himself between the toilet and the wall, frightened. He watched her, but he wasn't seeing her, he was seeing May.
"Peter? It's going to be okay." She said. Peter shook his head.
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
"Peter …it's fine. Really."
"…I'm sorry." He whispered again. "Please don't hit me. I—I'm so sorry." His face turned pale.
"I'd never hit you, Peter."
"What's happening?" Ned said suddenly through the door.
MJ jumped, then remembering Ned, opened the door. He walked in slowly and closed the stall door, locking it again. They stared at their friend.
"Get out." Said Peter quietly.
The two did nothing.
"Please! Leave—get out! I don't want you here! I don't need your pity. Just leave!" he yelled at them, uncurling and his mind clearing.
"I hate you! You guys don't even like me! How could you make me believe that I was good enough to have friends or even acquaintances? I'm not! Everything I do is wrong and corrupted!" he yelled. MJ and Ned simply watched in shock as their friend crumbled in front of them. Pouring out self-loathing in waves.
"I shouldn't even be alive. I killed my uncle. How could I do that? I'm just a horrible mutant—an awful person, a terrible nephew... a murderer. How could you let me believe that I was anything other than worthless? Just… leave me alone."
Ned and MJ looked at each other, stunned. What were they supposed to do? And slowly and unsurely, they did as they were told. They walked out of the bathroom, leaving their friend to comfort himself.
Peter took a deep breath, he was not going to go to class after this. When he finally calmed down enough, he climbed up the wall and opened the window, jumping out and landing on the soft grass below. He didn't have his backpack, but he regularly lost backpacks while out as Spiderman. One more wouldn't be a problem. The boy wrapped his arms around himself and walked to the subway station.
He walked into the subway cart and sat down in a chair. There were only a couple of people on the subway due to it being one in the afternoon. He watched the scenery pass and put his legs on the seat over, only politely moving them when a pregnant woman asked for the seat. He brought his legs to his chest, similarly to how he had been sitting in the bathroom. The woman looked at him and with a mid-western accent started to speak.
"Rough day at school?" she asked.
He nodded. Why did people always insist on speaking to him when he was upset?
"You know when I was in high school, people used to bully me. I like to think it was because I was smarter than them, but that didn't mean they wouldn't throw me in the nearest dumpster. I see you're a smart one too." She pointed to his midtown sweater.
Peter sighed and she smiled.
"What's got you so upset, mister?" she asked playfully.
Peter didn't really want to talk and he shrugged.
"You're the quiet type I see." She said, "That's okay. I can talk enough for the both of us."
She then continued her monolog and soon enough, Peter started to feel better. He would add in his own two cents here and there and she would laugh loudly which would make Peter snicker quietly in response to her ridiculously contagious belly laugh. She talked about anything and everything telling him about her home life, her husband, her job, her baby. Peter was amazed at how many stories she had and how wholesome her personality was.
"You're gonna be a good mother." He said referring to how she had helped him when he was feeling down.
"That's all anyone can hope to be." She replied with a soft smile, and Peter got off the subway, feeling much lighter than he had before.
When he got home, he closed the front door softly then went into his room. It had been such a long day, he hadn't talked to MJ or Ned since lunch; ignoring all their texts and calls. He was reading his trigonometry textbook when May called out to him.
"Peter? Come here."
Peter's heart began to pound in his chest. What had he done? Why was May calling him? Slowly and cautiously he walked back out into the living room. May was on the couch watching the news and he didn't want to interrupt. She saw him standing in the archway.
"Come." She said, patting the couch next to her. Peter sat down warily next to her and she wrapped her arm around him bringing him to her side.
"Look." She said pointing at the television.
"Where is Spiderman?" began the newscaster after the logo had played. "The masked vigilante that watches over the Queens borough is said to be missing. Citizens have reported not having seen the arachnid in weeks." The reporter showed a clip of Peter swinging through the city and a civilian spoke in a microphone.
"He saved my daughter once. I really owe him. Where are you Spiderman?" she said exasperated. The clip ended and returned to the newsroom.
"Has the hero finally left the rescue work to local police? Has The Spiderman retired? We'll have more of the story for you at 6. Now, meteorologist Alex Larson has the weather." The newsroom switched to the weatherman who began to explain the expected weather for the coming week. May squeezed Peter in a side hug.
"You see?" she whispered, "They don't need you. Queens can take care of itself." She ran her fingers through his hair soothingly. He frowned, he thought he did good work while he was out as Spiderman… he felt supremely guilty. Had he failed as Spiderman? Obviously, people didn't need him. They had the Avengers… real superheroes who actually saved people. And if May was happy…
"I'm so proud of you. You haven't gone out in a long time. We should celebrate." She said standing.
"I'm going to order pizza. Anything in particular you want?" she said with false sweetness. Peter shook his head.
"Go to your room and wait then."
He did so without any more prompting and sat at his desk, sure to be quiet. It looked like May was finally happier with him. He wondered how long it would last.
