Chapter Nine: Uprooted from The Closet

*TIME SKIP: 1 MONTH* (Little known fact: I spent a good 20-30 minutes laying on my back on the couch, staring at the ceiling and listening to random music and contemplating my demise, between ending the last chapter and starting this one. Then it took me an extra 30-ish minutes to get back to my normal personality. And usually I just keep writing on and on and break chapters up at the end. My life, everybody. – Lucky)

Peter came home from classes and after-school Spider-manning in a good mood. That alone was enough to make Hiro understandably nervous. Last time he came home from school like that, he had had a "great" idea, as described by Peter himself, for a new web-fluid formula and it had ended with the bedroom half-covered in the sticky material, a pair of small explosions, and a very upset Hiro. It had taken him two days to get the stuff out of his fur and he'd spent the whole time as a living duster, picking up dirt and lint wherever he went. He hadn't even looked at Peter for the entirety of that time period.

So, when the brunet pranced in with a big ol' smile on his face, Hiro regarded him with some uncertainty, wondering what exactly had happened at school to put him in such a good mood. He was mostly hoping something embarrassing had happened to Flash, if he was being truthful. Startled out of those devilish thoughts by Peter's bouncy admittance onto the bed, he looked up pitifully and mrowr-ed at him, less than pleased.

"C'mon, what're you looking at me like that for?" was the boy's only response as he tickled the kit's nose with a spare feather that he had probably gotten from the art room. "I think you'll like what I'm about to say." The ball of black fur on his bedspread let out a sound that faintly resembled a meow, but two bright eyes peeked out anyways, leading to an even shinier smile from the other. He was acting even cheerier than normal. Whatever came out of this was bound to be good.

"Well," Peter began, "besides the fact that I aced a bunch of tests and Flash ignored the 'No Running' sign and fell on his butt, I have good news!"

Hiro chuffed in a mocking way at the blonde jock's misfortune before composing himself to listen to the rest of what his "owner" had to say.

"I thought, since it's been a while and I'm feeling especially good today, I'd tell Aunt May I'm gay." Now that got Hiro up and moving about. In fact, he jumped almost a foot in the air when he sprung up and started bounding around the springy mattress like he'd just won the Quidditch World Cup.

The teen next to him just cracked up in laughter and continued to tease the cat with the feather, something that was actually successful this time, since Hiro was too elated to care that it was a fake feather or that he had no real interest in the colorful thing. "Well, I'm glad you're happy. Jeez, if you're this excited about it, I should've done this months ago." Peter got up, laughing at the "no-duh" expression on Hiro's fuzzy little face.

He followed the strutting animal down the stairs to where his aunt was making something in the kitchen that smelled absolutely heavenly to both of them. Even in an old-fashioned – and somewhat frilly – apron with her hair pulled into falling-apart ponytail that exposed silver hairs, May Parker was a beautiful, hard-working woman that they were lucky to have around and live with. "Hi, Aunt May!"

"Hello, Peter," she answered easily, pouring another ingredient into the bowl. Hiro hovered around it on the counter, contemplating if he could sneak a taste without her noticing. "Decide to come down and talk to your poor old aunt properly?"

"You're not old!" he protested and held back a chuckle when the black cat was shooed away from the food that was being prepared. Peter ran a hand along his spine when he walked over to him, trying to pretend he hadn't just been caught sneaking food. "Anyway… I, um, had something I wanted to tell you." Hiro gave him a look from under his hand, practically daring him to chicken out now.

"Of course, dear. What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong… I just… ow!" The kit acquired a sort of smug smile, as much as possible for a feline, as he watched the high schooler frown at him around the finger in his mouth, the finger Hiro had just poked with his claws. "I'm telling her, I'm telling her," Peter mumbled under his breath. In the background, Aunt May was giggling quietly to herself at their antics, though her back was turned and she face the stove on the opposite wall.

"You were saying, Peter?" she prompted, amused.

The boy in question sent one last glare at Hiro. "Yeah, yeah. I'm, uh, I'm gay." Deep brown eyes glanced up through strands of loose hair expectantly and he unconsciously held his breath, unaware that the cat on the counter in front of him was doing the same. A second passed… then two, and he was afraid she would never say anything. That might be worse that yelling and screaming…

"What was that? Sorry, honey, speak up. I can't hear you over the stovetop vent."

"I'm gay." This time the woman was facing them, and they watched as her face went through a series of emotions that was both entertaining and had them scared of what would happen. Surprise and shock, eyes wide, lips parted. Confusion with eyebrows scrunched together. Thoughtfulness and a pondering countenance. She finally settled on a combination of understanding and knowing, as if she'd seen the signs before Peter. She probably had, Hiro thought with a smirk.

"Okay, dear," Aunt May nodded as she tossed a small salad in an old plastic bowl. Her eyes sparkled with approval and mirth. Hiro had the same shine in his irises when he craned his neck up to see Peter gaping like a fish out of water. Apparently, he had been prepared for every eventuality except that one.

"O-Okay…" he managed incredously. Hiro chuffed, hopping fluidly down from the counter and making his way up the stairs, back to his cushy spot on Peter's bed. He caught the tail ends of sentences and conversation floating up from the kitchen, snippets and words and the odd noise as Peter tried to express some odd emotion.

"Oh, dear. I forgot to get more milk," he caught May's warm tones as they journeyed up through the air. "You don't mind waiting a bit for dinner, do you?"

"Of course, that's fine!" the boy answered, his voice still delighted from earlier. "Do you want me to go get it?"

"No, no. I'll be fine." The jangle of keys and the shuffle of shoes and coats accompanied the statements as she prepared to make the short voyage to the grocers. "Besides, can't have you getting hung up on some cute boy on the way back!"

And with that, the door shut with a click while Peter shouted one last scandalized, "Aunt May!" and caused Hiro to have an interesting sort of laughing fit, seeing as all the kit could do was chuff. He was still getting over it when the door opened to reveal the slightly traumatized Parker boy, who immediately proceeded to plop down at the foot of the bed like he had when he got home, trying to bounce the cat off the bed.

Said animal only graced him with a tiny hiss after he prevented himself from falling over the edge less than elegantly. "That's what you get for laughing at me." He sat, Hiro next to him, and sighed in the most understandable expression of relief humans had come up with so far. Leaning over onto his side and then rolling onto his back, Peter was finally at peace as "his" cat crawled onto his chest to join him. Except for one thing.

"Where's Aunt May?" Hiro simply looked at him as he rolled his head over to check his clock, one that had been beaten even more since the kit had arrived. "She should've been back by now. That new grocery store is what, a five-minute walk? And the milk is right there when you come in. Where is she?"

All he got was a low grumbling sound from his chest, where the midnight-shaded animal hadn't moved.

"Maybe she went to a different store? Or they moved the milk?" The possible situations seemed to quiet his mind and they went back to enjoying the calm atmosphere around the house. For Peter, the minutes seemed to drag by, and he couldn't get that feeling of something-isn't-right off his back. Fifteen more minutes passed uncertainly, and he couldn't sit still any longer.

"Okay, it's been… thirty minutes. That's long enough to be worried. I mean, she didn't take the car, the closest one to walk to is… never mind, she would've been back by now!" Hiro would say Peter was being paranoid if not for 1) the fact that cats don't talk and 2) he was getting the same feeling, and not just from the anxious teenager under him. Jumping off, he allowed him to get up and watched Peter hop on one foot while putting on his sneakers before following him out of the house, surprised at the lack of resistance he was encountering.

When he fell behind – stupid, short little kitty legs – he was scooped up by the boy, who never slowed his pace in the evening air, seeming to follow his senses more than where the store was. Specifically, his sixth sense, the one he technically wasn't supposed to have. The two were led down the street, dim in the fading light where the streetlights had yet to blink on, and around the corner, where they were suddenly greeted by the harsh lights and sirens of a whole crowd of people and emergency vehicles.

A cherry red coup let out little puffs of smoke from the crumpled hood, a light-pole shoved up through its front. Hiro idly wondered how much force it took for it to get so far in but was mostly occupied scanning the scene in increasing horror. The air smelled like blood, the metallic scent faint, but not to them. Then both green and brown eyes landed on one feature.

Body bags.

Oh, Merlin. There were two body bags laid carefully by the ambulance, whose light cast eerie shadows on the objects and whose blaring siren was starting to get to Peter, that much was obvious to Hiro. They stared in terrified unison, both running scenarios through their heads, their trains of thoughts leaning towards worst-case. Peter finally worked up enough courage to walk up to one of the police officers even though he looked like he was going to throw up. Hiro was sure if Peter did, he'd be next. "What happened here, Officer?"

The female spared him a passing glimpse with no interest for the boy with a cat on his shoulder. "Car accident, kid. Two dead, driver and a passerby."

"H-have they ident-identified the bodies?" he choked out, a shaking hand slowly but surely making its way to his mouth.

"Move along, kid. We're all busy here," she blew him off without looking.

"Please, ma'am. My aunt – just, have you identified the bodies?"

The blue-uniformed woman finally looked at him from under her crisp hat and let up a bit. "Okay, kid," she sighed and flipped a paper over her clipboard. "I have two positive IDs. The passerby had a wallet on her with the name 'May Parker.' The driver…" Peter didn't hear anything after that. His heart had started pounding in his ears at the word "her" and he completely blanked out after "May Parker."

The world turned muted, as if hearing everything through cotton-stuffed ears, and he started floating away into his head, but with Hiro's soft weight on his shoulder, he was brought back to the ground before long. It didn't mean he had to like it, the way everything returned in an unwelcome rush of… everything. And suddenly it was too much with the sirens and the lights and the now very concerned police lady trying to talk to him much too loudly and he stumbled over to the welcomingly cool brick wall of the building.

Peter leaned against it, his back pressed flush as he slid down and sat at the bottom with breaths coming fast and short. Hiro responded just as quickly, getting off of his shoulder and curling up as close to his friend's center as he could to simply give as much comfort and sympathy as possible. The girl-in-blue – who they both were starting to really dislike, and not just because she was the deliverer of terrible news – kept trying to remove the cat from the boy's lap and talk to him herself, which wasn't working well for anyone.

With his claws firmly, but carefully, attached to Peter's shirt, Hiro wasn't going anywhere and every time the unnamed officer tried to pick him up all she got was angry hisses, the rare claw-swipe, and poor Peter trying to hold onto him before the last familiar thing about his environment was ripped away from him. Miracle of miracles, she finally got the not-so-subtle hint and left them alone, to put it in Hiro's snarky current mood as he continued to support the one closest to his heart. His sharp virescent eyes followed the first responders as they rushed around the scene, daring anybody to even try and bother Peter and him.

And now I'm back! From outer space! No, not really, I'm just back from Canada. Which was awesome, even though I twisted my knee trying to learn to ski and had to skip the second day. But I'm good! Now, onto the actual author's note...

This is why the last chapter wasn't supposed to end up so serious/sad/tear-jerking! But, I guess it turned out okay… oh, who am I kidding. This chapter was awful and if that wasn't bad enough it was one of the chapters that actually had a major storyline point in it! I am SO SO SO SORRY! I'm just as sorry as I was last chapter! =( It's even worse because I LOVE Aunt May! Why in Tartarus did I put these two chapter one after another?! Oh, right… I HAD NO FLARKING IDEA CHAPTER EIGHT WOULD TURN OUT LIKE THAT! I'm sorry…

Lucky

P.S. This isn't the end, you'll find out what happens to Peter and Hiro (i.e. where they're gonna live and everything now that Aunt May is… you know…) next chapter. Sorry again, this wasn't originally supposed to be a two-part thing. That means when I said the real storyline would start around Chapter Twelve, I was accidently lying. It's 'round Thirteen now. (Ha, Lucky NumeralThirteen, get it? But that wasn't actually on purpose)

To plums: Sorry, I know my summary wasn't good at all, I hope this new one is a bit better with the parentheses at the end. I was trying to make it a bit of a surprise that he was turned into a cat and this is my first story I've ever posted. Thank you for your honest opinion and feedback.

To aidann83: Huh… okay. Not sure what's going through my head is the same as what you're thinking, but thanks for the review!

To Vladimir Mithrander: You know, you're a really good conversationalist. You always provide such awesome insight. The communication issue (and poor Peter's guilt) are going to take a while to resolve, so hang in there!