.
.
.
Chapter Nine
.
.
.
Peter zipped up into the air, latched himself to the wall of the building before he crawled over the ledge of the rooftop. He stopped and straightened before he started to pace. "Stupid! Stupid! Stupid! Let fate help me find you?! What the hell was that?!"
He groaned as his gloved hand ran over his goggled eyes.
He was an idiot.
An embarrassment.
In truth, he always had issues in controlling his filter but maybe it was time to really practice holding things back without blurting every thought that crossed his mind.
But… as cheesy as it was, at least it got his message across. He wanted to see her again, but it was really out of his hands. It was safer for her that she wasn't seen with Spider-Man. It was bad enough Toomes knew his secret identity.
With a heavy sigh, Peter turned back around and stealthily watched as Mary Jane walked out of the alley. True, she was never in any danger in this particular alleyway. He didn't necessarily have to reveal himself to her, but the thought that she would go down sketchy alleys just because she thought he might be around scared the living hell out of him. He hoped that she wouldn't continue to do that… what if something happened while he wasn't around?
But if he were being honest with himself, he revealed his presence to Mary Jane because he just… wanted to talk to her. He had only known her for one night but he had missed her. Especially in his bouts of boredom… when Ned couldn't come over to play video games and help him retrieve some of his memories.
An insurmountable amount of tension left him as he saw Mary Jane finally exit the alleyway. He would stick around for a while… follow her for a little bit. He wanted to make sure she got somewhere safe.
Did this make him a bit of a stalker?
His thoughts rebelled against the idea, telling himself that his intentions were strictly pure…
The memory of her pressed against him in the alleyway assaulted his mind.
Peter pushed it away.
He followed her for a few blocks before finally noting that the streets were starting to fill with people again.
She would be safe the rest of the way to wherever it was she was going.
He'd better leave now before the temptation of finding out where she lived would be too much for him.
He didn't want to become an actual stalker.
With that thought, he bid a silent farewell to the gorgeous Mary Jane before he zipped off into the early night.
…
He landed on the window sill outside of his bedroom and tried to open it as quietly as he could manage.
The old pane of glass creaked as he pushed it up.
He winced at the sound.
"Peter?" His Aunt May's voice sounded from the living room. He heard her footsteps coming down the hall.
Panicked, Peter leapt through the window before he crawled into bed, throwing his comforter over his homemade suit and tearing off the mask just as his bedroom door opened. Her head peaked through the opening of the door, staring at him, expressionless.
"H-Hey, Aunt May," Peter said, trying to act casual as he pulled his comforter up further to his chin. "What's up?"
May frowned, her critical eyes taking him in. "Where were you?"
Peter tensed for a split of a second before he let out the breath that he had been holding. "People were screaming, Aunt May… I couldn't just ignore it."
This gave his aunt some pause… before she gave a violent shake of her head. "The police could've handled it-"
"Trust me, they couldn't have stopped this guy."
"Then you could've called Tony."
"Tony's in D.C.-"
His Aunt May threw her hands up in the air in exasperation. "Then he could've sent his drones to take care of it! Regardless, you're still recovering! Not to mention you're still grounded, young man."
Peter huffed and fell back against his pillow with a sigh. It was true that Tony could've sent drones to assess and take care of the situation… but what if they hadn't been able to stop it? What would have happened to Mary Jane then? Would she have been kidnapped? Killed?
He would've hated himself if anything happened to her. Despite how many jokes he told while fighting that Sand-Man, he was still scared out of his mind for her the entire time.
When he first saw her, standing there with those sandy clutches wrapped tight around her limbs, Peter thought that he was going to pass out just from the shock and panic that he felt squeezing at his chest… that was before the adrenaline kicked in.
How could he have just let her safety be left up to a bunch of drones?
There was only one answer to that question… he wouldn't have been able to.
Uncle Ben's words about power and responsibility flashed through his mind...
"How did you even notice that I was gone?" Peter asked when he had no logical answer to give his aunt.
May sighed as she let herself lean against the frame of his bedroom door. "Because I ran into Belle while at the store and invited her over for dinner. I came here to tell you but, of course, you weren't here..."
Peter ignored the slight irritation Aunt May sent him with that last comment as he looked at her, confused. "Who's Belle?"
May's face softened as the reminder that Peter was still recovering from amnesia came back to her. "She's our neighbor. Sweet older lady who makes those oatmeal-raisin cookies you like so much? Any of this ringing a bell?"
Peter shook his head and a wave of vertigo came over him. Suddenly, he was very tired. This happened a lot when he was trying to remember something that he couldn't quite get a grasp on yet. Frustration mounted within him. He was sure that this 'Belle' woman was perfectly nice and sweet but Peter would have preferred it if she didn't come over at all...
His feelings on the matter must have been displayed on his face because his Aunt May looked at him disapprovingly. "Be nice, Pete. You may not remember but she really helped out a lot when Ben-"
She cut herself off abruptly and her face turned ashen for a moment before she shook her head, trying to shake away the memories.
"Anyway," She said, turning her face downward to look down at her hands, "She's done a lot for our family, so I want you to be on your best behavior, alright, Pete?"
Peter swallowed thickly as he nodded shakily. The few memories that he had regained of Uncle Ben were swarming in his mind…
"Peter?" Ben's voice called from the other side of his bedroom door, before he turned the knob and invited himself in.
Peter didn't even look up from the project he was working on, too focused on the scraps of junk he was trying to turn into his own personal computer that he was learning to build from scratch. Because even at ten, Peter was quite the wiz-kid, and his Aunt and Uncle couldn't afford to buy him one. So, Pete would dumpster-dive for parts and the parts he couldn't find, he would save his allowance for.
Uncle Ben stood in the doorway for a long moment, watching him, before he sighed and leaned against the mantle. "Don't you think it's too nice of a day to be cooped up inside, Pete?"
Peter's brows furrowed as he turned the mini screwdriver in his hand. He didn't answer his uncle, instead choosing to better his focus on what his hands were doing.
"Come on," Uncle Ben coaxed, "Why don't you and I go to the park? Toss a Frisbee back and forth and just get some fresh air?"
Peter sighed and finally looked up at his uncle, an annoyed look on his small features. "But that would be a complete waste of time, Uncle Ben."
Undeterred by his nephew's sour attitude, Uncle Ben laughed. "Why are you in such a hurry to speed through life, Pete? It's the little moments that you are able to look back at and remember most."
Peter rolled his eyes, going back to turning the tiny screw in the half built computer monitor.
Uncle Ben let out a heavy sigh before he slowly shut the door, leaving Peter to work in peace.
The memory had struck him when he had remembered it two days ago, and left him feeling cold.
A shiver went down Peter's spine.
"Y-Yeah, Aunt May. Don't worry about me… I'll be good."
Aunt May looked up from her hand at him. Her tense shoulders relaxed as she smiled sadly at him.
"What am I saying? Of course, you will," She pushed herself off of the door mantle before she walked over to him and pulled into a tight hug. Peter immediately wrapped his arms around her tiny frame. "You've always been good, Pete. Even towards those who don't deserve it, sometimes."
Peter frowned as he held on tight to his aunt.
Yeah, and there are also times he could be a real jerk to those who don't deserve it.
He wished that he could remember if there were any times where he did take his Uncle Ben up on his offer. Because Uncle Ben was right… it was the little moments that Peter longed to remember. The moments where they were all a family without a single care or worry in the world.
He couldn't believe how much he used to take it all for granted. How much he missed memories that he couldn't even remember having…
...how much he missed a man he barely remembered.
Peter sighed. He had been too afraid to ask how Uncle Ben died… but he figured that he would remember in time.
"So, when is this Belle lady coming for dinner?" Peter found himself saying.
Aunt May pulled back from their embrace and sat herself down on the edge of his bed and patted his knee underneath the comforter. "In about an hour. So, get that dinky suit off and hop into the shower… you've got sand in your hair."
She laughed as Peter's eyes widened. He chose to ignore the sand comment, as he didn't want to worry her, and instead glared at her mockingly, pretending to be offended. "Hey! I worked really hard in making this suit!"
Aunt May stood as she laughed harder. "When compared to Tony, I would say that any suit looks dinky, Pete."
He had nothing to say to that. When it came to suits, Tony was the expert…
….
Peter was freshly showered and dressed. He had to shampoo his hair three times in order to get all of the sand particles out of his hair… so he had to rush to get ready for when their neighbor, Belle, came over.
He hadn't bothered with putting on anything special. He found out quickly that their dinners were always casual here.
So, he put on a sweatshirt and jeans that he knew for sure were clean.
When he left his room, his aunt was busy bustling around the kitchen… tossing the salad before checking the chicken that was baking in the oven.
Peter sniffed at the air and sighed appreciatively. After his fight with that Sand-Man guy, he suddenly realized how much energy he must have used in defeating him. He was ravenous…
"Smells good, Aunt May," A smile was sent in her direction with his compliment.
She glanced at him with her own smile as she pulled out the pan of chicken breasts and proceeded to cut into it to check if it was done properly.
When, a knock resounded off from the front door.
"Can you get that please, Pete?" May asked as she cut into the next piece of meat.
Peter nodded, even though she wasn't looking at him to see, as he made his way to the door.
He turned the deadbolt and then the lock on the handle, twisted the metal knob and opened it with a swing of his arm.
Peter froze and his jaw dropped at who he saw standing in the open door…
"Face it, Tiger. You just hit the jackpot!".
.
.
.
A/N: I'm evil, I know. Please, if you like this story, leave a review! :)
.
.
.