Chapter Eleven: What's A "Midgardian"?
*TIME SKIP: 6 MONTHS*
While Hiro hadn't exactly approved of Peter's choice to run away from the legal system and live on the streets of New York, he had to admit it was going well so far. They'd been at it for… around half a year now, he thought… and the boy adapted quickly. The only slip-up that had been made was when his school pack had been swiped by some random bloke when they were asleep.
Hiro didn't really know why Peter had insisted on keeping up with his schoolwork, going so far as to daringly continue to attend Midtown High even when they were liable to be caught by CPS or something of the kind. Most kids – including the former schoolboy himself – would've thought that bunking off on their education was the best part.
Then again, Peter was not normal in any sense of the word and Hiro liked to think they both thought that was the best. He was quite certain of his standpoint. The boy had kept up with it all and even dropped off his borrowed textbooks when the time came, then when he finally realized that CPS was getting too close and getting closer every time he went in.
But Peter still had his duffel and that, now slightly ratty, notebook he wrote all of his ideas down in and he had taken to lurking around the library whenever possible. He studied all manner of things with Hiro hidden deftly in his bag – no pets allowed, he had to remind himself repeatedly when in there – yet continued to stick like the spider he was to the sciences, excelling, to Hiro's pride.
There was always some book shoved in the duffel, usually something far, far above his age level and Hiro's head. Hogwarts never provided a practical muggle education in the first place, but he managed to catch up to at least the USA grade-level he would've been in at his age.
He poured over all of this in his head while doing his best to keep Peter warm as the duo dozed against a wall in the afternoon, Peter mostly sitting up with his legs splayed in front of him and Hiro in his lap. Neither were really asleep. They were always listening and watching for anything nowadays and Peter's eyes shifted from open to half-closed at the most.
The day had been good, the weather not too extreme, a fiver scrounged up to pay for a decent lunch of a sandwich. Things were so overpriced in the city, Hiro complained to himself drowsily. Peter – that thoughtful idiot – always, without fail, shared his meal with him despite who was significantly larger and needed it more.
Still, it could be worse.
There had been times where the teen would go days without food and/or sleep, abandoning either or both for safety, shelter, or sometimes just not having enough. Not enough money, not enough talent to earn anything like a performing monkey – or so Peter felt he had to pretend – just not enough, period. The kit did his best, but, unfortunately, people seemed to notice when food or water started sneaking out of the store on its own. The most he found himself able to do was catch runaway coins or bills those more well-off carelessly dropped or forgot.
Hiro felt illogically guilty that he couldn't do more, though in his head he recognized that he really couldn't do anything else and cursed the fact that he was still stuck as a cat, and thus, unable to do magic. At least he had finally gotten his self-sacrificing not-owner to take a load off from what had turned into almost constant superhero-ing now that Peter's time wasn't sucked up by school or trivial things like the need to sleep and eat, which were still necessary, the kit grumbled to himself. Not that the boy seemed to know that.
Instead he kept going out again and again, putting other people before himself in a way that would've made Hiro proud if it hadn't been so self-destructive. But he'd got the hero to take a break at last, bringing them to where they rested against the coolness of a tourist-shop's corner, before the wall took a dive into a surprisingly well-lit alley with nothing in it but a cluster of rubbish cans and somebody's fire escape. Hiro had made sure of it, along with Peter and his enhanced senses, before the now singular bag was even propped behind his lower back like a pillow.
A gloved hand brought itself up to the feline's back, uncovered fingers gently running through his fur as he began to purr at the wonderful feeling. He glanced back and up at Peter, interrupting his own expression of pleasure with a short chuff when he saw the other hand propping the brunet's head up with his brown eyes half-closed.
As always, he wore his Spidey outfit under his buttoned-up favorite jacket, the hood and kerchief tucked in and away, the kneepads and goggles stashed away in the bag, and the tight black pants pulled over his high red shoes, rather than the other way around. All in all, he completed the look of "homeless kid" very well with his brown hair sticking out every which way like a bird's nest instead of combed over messily in a way Hiro had always found cute.
The aforementioned male smiled lazily as he met the animal's bright eyes before returning to scanning the bustling street and sidewalk. Everywhere in New York was always busy, but everywhere, every part of the city, was a different type of busy. This part was the type of busy where you could stand in one spot and watch the same people file in and out of office buildings all day long as workers went in for the day, came out for lunch, went back in, and came out at the end of the day while interns and messengers ran about getting coffee or letters to deliver.
The business district was filled with people in suits, button-downs, and pencil skirts, so when Peter caught sight of a decidedly not professional businessman walking with an older man and two women who all looked very confused, his interest was piqued. His sitting up jostled Hiro just enough for the cat to catch the same glimpse of the out-of-place crew and for him to gaze interestedly at them.
"Those few are odd," Peter murmured. "Don't you think, Hiro?"
He got a soft meow in agreement from the black furball on his lap and absentmindedly nodded with consensus to his statement and Hiro.
The younger man, though he was still years older than the teenager himself, had long, dirty blond hair and a rugged appearance, built like a wrestler and clothed like Peter in jeans and an open jacket. The older man seemed small next to the giant with a rumpled checkered shirt and glasses tucked into the greying hair behind his ears. They strode along with two women, both brunettes, though one's hair was dark and curly while the other's was light. The dark-haired lady was younger, with glasses and a beanie that gave her an overall hipster look. The older one of the two had the look of a scientist as she studied the papers in her hand and somehow managed to not run into the people around her.
"I think they're lost." And lo, behold, the eldest was getting out a crumpled map, almost hitting several passersby with it. "They need help." Oh, no. Hiro knew where this was going. "C''mon, you lazy kitty. Let's go help."
Said kitty hopped off his lap with an annoyed hiss as Peter stood up and shouldered his duffel, stretching for a few seconds before Hiro pounced on him and climbed up to his shoulder. Like a furry parrot, he perched there with excellent balance while the boy crossed the street with a glance each way, loping along through temporarily stopped traffic with the gall to wave at a very irritated driver at the front of the line, causing his companion to chuff merrily.
"Hey, Blondie!" Peter called loudly. The tallest man, dubbed "Blondie" by the teen, looked around in befuddlement, not sure if he was being addressed or who was – maybe – addressing him. "Yeah! Hey! Right here!" He waved to the long-haired blonde with a ridiculous smile, gaining a small wave and matching smile from the hipster girl. The lady grabbed the elbow of the other female, who was about to go on walking past them as she was too absorbed in her papers. "Hi! You guys look lost!"
"Blondie" frowned. "Art thou the Midgardian who called 'blondie'?"
"Yeees," Peter drug out the word, then scrunched his eyebrows together. "What's a 'midgardian'?"
"It is what thh- you are," the man stumbled over the term, changing it halfway through after getting a pointed look from the dark-haired woman. He almost seemed afraid of her, the hilarity of the situation adding fuel to Hiro's laughter.
"Actually, I'm Peter," he told him.
"Uh," the other lady stepped in, "is your cat okay?" All eyes turned to the kit on the boy's shoulder, who had been, and currently was, in the middle of a chuffing wholeheartedly at the conversation and the humans' expressions and was in slight danger of falling off of Peter's shoulder despite his honed balancing skills. The way they were all looking at him now only drove the problem further.
"Yeah, he's fine," the teenager rolled his eyes. "Hey, Hiro. Stop that, you're embarrassing me." He poked the cat's furry chest teasingly, pressing down his own snicker when he got an entertaining look from the intelligent green eyes.
You don't need any help with that, they seemed to say to him, though he was probably imagining it. Hiro, on the other hand, successfully managed not to grin like an idiot under his not-owners gaze, though another chuff or two slipped out.
"Shush, you. Do you want to go in the bag? I will put you in the bag." Hiro immediately shut his trap, the minor threat was quick and effective, as Peter knew how much he hated being trapped in there. He hadn't minded the school backpack those couple of times, but this one was full of small, hard items that like to poke him in the most uncomfortable ways.
Plus, this bag couldn't be pressed against Peter's back in the way Hiro liked, the way that he could feel the boy's warmth and – sometimes – heartbeat.
"Okay, sorry about him. He's a little troublemaker." The feline achieved an affronted look and batted Peter's ear gently before settling in for what was sure to be an interesting conversation. "Where were we? Oh, right! I'm Peter and you guys look lost," he smiled. "You want some help?"
The older man opened his mouth. "No—"
"Yes!" "Glasses-girl," as she was being referred to in Hiro's mind, barged in. "We'll be wandering around for hours if we let him read the map," she groaned, then, in a lower voice. "Stupid males… never ask for directions."
"I agree!" Peter answered to her mutterings as brightly as ever. He always seemed happier when helping… or science-ing. Hiro just hoped he wouldn't develop a saving-people thing as bad as his.
"But… you are a guy," she pointed out.
"Your point?"
"… I like you," "Glasses-girl" decided. "I'm Darcy L. The old dude is Erik S. The scientist who should look up from her science-y papers before she runs into something is Jane F. And the blonde hunk is Thor… uh, Thor, what's your surname?"
"Odinson! My father—"
"Yeah, yeah. Thor O. Jane ran him over with a car when she met him. Twice," Darcy finished with a dismissive wave of her hand. "Now they're a thing."
Jane finally looked up at that last bit with an annoyed, long-suffering look on her face. "Darcy. It was an accident! And you tasered him!"
"Yes, yes I did."
"Why do you sound proud?!"
"Because I am."
"Nice," Peter broke up the two and Darcy obliged to his proffered high-five. "Just don't do it to me." She nodded in apparent concession, crossing her heart, and the boy had evidently determined that that was enough for him to trust her as he turned around to help Erik finish unfolding his map. He then had to flip it over because the man was holding it upside down. "So, where are you all off to this fine afternoon?"
"Midtown School of Science and Technology," Jane responded from his other side. "For a presentation about—"
"Yes, yes, science-y words and mumbo-jumbo," Darcy interrupted again. Thor could be heard in the background, feeling quite left out and confused, mumbling, "What is this 'mumbo' thou speak of?" while the dark-haired girl silently imitated a chatterbox with her hand. "Where is it, the school?"
"My old high school?" the teen repeated, bouncing back a few steps on the balls of his feet so they weren't crowding poor Erik from all sides. "You guys 're in the completely wrong place. Why are you using a paper map, anyways? Phones are easier. Or GPS. Or a taxi."
"Doctors-We-Have-Multiple-Degrees over here forgot their phones," she mocked, vexed. "I'm pretty sure Thor doesn't know what as GPS is. And apparently walking is 'healthy'? Bleh."
Thor trotted beside them like a puppy. A very large, blonde puppy… but still. "'Tis true. I saw the small black rectangles in the… what doth thou call it? … the kitchen, though I knew not of their importance."
"I rest my case." Darcy sighed dramatically before turning to her friend and stage-whispering not very effectively, "Why didn't you tell me?!" Trying to swat at him, she seemed annoyed when it garnered no reaction from anyone other than Peter and Hiro, wearing wide a wide smile and struggling to contain more laughter, respectively. Hiro would've though the man was a wizard if not for the obvious universe difference and his… old-fashioned speech. "Ugh, it's like hitting a wall. That talks like Shakespeare."
What did you think of my fluffy chapter? Please note that absolutely none of this has ever happened in the actual, amazing MCU or the comics, it was just a silly idea that floated around in my head for a while. Sorry about the boringly long explanation-ish bits in the beginning, but I skipped six months and had to put some stuff in there! No… you're right. This was a bust. It sounded better in my head, I promise! Though everything sounds better in my head. But jeebus, that thing was long! How the heck did a short one-shot filler turn into that monstrosity?
Lucky
To Kelvrin: You'll have to keep reading to find out, but I will say that there is a high likelihood that he'll get out of his cat body eventually. Yes, that was purposefully vague. To your second review, yeah, I guess so. I wasn't really thinking about that when I wrote it and my Death isn't Hela or Loki's daughter (Hela is Thor's sister [technically Loki's too, through adoption] in the MCU anyway. Though that still doesn't apply to my Death). It was just a coincidence.