Peter

Winter 2015 - Queens, New York

Peter sighed as he felt a spit ball hit his back for the umpteenth time. The bus ride was only about thirty minutes long but that was plenty of time for Flash Thompson to escalate to objects that packed more power than a spitball. He could have strangled Ned for picking this particular day to get the flu. Peter didn't mind field trips, he actually enjoyed them...a little too much. He tended to get distracted, especially when they went to the science labs. His brain would start spinning after every piece of equipment they saw, after every experiment that was explained. He'd have entire processes planned out in his head before he'd realize that the class had moved onto a different room. Todays field trip was pretty awesome. He wasn't sure how Mr. Harrington pulled it off. They were going to one of the best tech companies in the world. The only thing that would have been better would be a trip to Stark Industries and they all knew hell would freeze over before that would happen. So, they were on their way to OsCorp. OsCorp had some pretty phenomenal breakthroughs in bioengineering over the last year and they were all curious if they would see any of the cool stuff or if they'd get the watered down version since they were just lowly freshmen.

He was pleasantly surprised when they were ushered into some of the lower levels of labs. The technology was so superior to what he had access to it was mind boggling. He followed the rest of the class into a lab area. He recognized the man that had stood up when they entered the room but only because he had just finished a research paper on the manipulation of genetic material. He edged closer to Abe. "That's Karl Malus."

Abe frowned, "Who?"

Peter shook his head and strained to hear what their escort was saying. Being short generally meant he brought up the rear of any group. Keeping up with the giants was hard sometimes. Dr. Malus was saying something, he just couldn't hear from where he was. He moved around the edge to see if he could get any closer but couldn't make it up the side. Frustrated, his eyes wandered around the room. All of the equipment was state of the art. He would give almost anything to have access to it. There would be no end to what he could do. It wasn't likely anytime soon so he tamped the excitement down and kept looking around. There was a side room that was only illuminated by a bluish glow. Not able to hear what was being said, he walked a short distance into the room and looked around. There were about a dozen animals ranging from lizards to monkeys. He stepped closer to one of the monkey cages. He couldn't figure out if it was alive or not. As he peered into the cage to see if he could see the monkey breathing, it opened its eyes and lunged at Peter. Oblivious to the fact that the bars on the cage were sufficient to keep the monkey away from Peter, he leapt backwards - straight into a table. He felt something clatter to the floor but before he could turn to pick it up he felt something on his hand. Looking down, he fought back the terrified scream that wanted to come out. Instead, he swatted at the spider knocking it to the ground. Sufficiently freaked out, he fought to keep his breathing under control. The last thing he needed was an asthma attack. He hated spiders. They always had that effect on him. He walked back into the main lab right as the group was moving on which suited him fine. He was done with the field trip.

xxxxxxxxxx

"May, I'm home." Peter called from the door as he flipped through the mail he had retrieved on his way up. He listened for a response as he walked into the kitchen. He read the note on the door as he pulled open the refrigerator. Picked up a shift at work, be home late. Love you! May was working. He checked the clock on the microwave. And Ben wouldn't be home for another two hours. Grabbing the left over pizza from the night before he carried it into his room and dropped it and his backpack on the bed. He could work on homework until they got home. He didn't have much but he was also tired which meant he'd probably fall asleep with a book on his lap. He'd at least make a valid attempt. He settled in on his bed, books spread out on one side of the narrow bed and the pizza box propped open against the wall and his leg.

xxxxxxxxxx

"Peter? You home?" Ben threw his keys in the bowl by the door and walked through the apartment. May had left him a voice mail earlier so he knew she wasn't home. He tapped on Peter's door and pushed it open when he didn't get a response. A smile came to his lips as he saw the teen sprawled across his bed, empty pizza box on one side, physics and math books on the other. "Peter?" Not getting a response, he crossed the small room and sat on Peter's bed. "Peter…wake up kid. You're never going to sleep tonight if you don't." He reached over to shake his shoulder and felt the hear radiating from him. "Wonderful, " he muttered. May was much better at taking care of this kind of stuff. He stood up and walked out of the room only to return with a thermometer a few seconds later. It was one of the newer ones, May had gotten it from one of the doctors at the hospital for Christmas. Pressing it against Peter's forehead, the reading of 101 came back almost immediately. While May was better at dealing with Peter being sick, it didn't mean he didn't know what to do. Returning to the bathroom again, he returned this time with a dose of liquid Motrin. It wasn't that Peter couldn't take a pill, this just usually worked faster and old habits died hard. He set it on Peter's desk and sat down next to his nephew again. Moving the books and pizza boxes out of the way, he tapped Peter's should again. "Come on kid. You've got a fever so you need to take some Motrin." This at least elicited a groan in return. "Peter. Take the medicine and I'll run out and grab some Gatorade and maybe sandwiches from Delmar's?"

"Smooshed." Peter opened an eye, "I don't feel good."

"Yeah kid, I figured as much. You said this morning Ned has the flu. I imagine you do too. I'll text your aunt and see if she can get one of the doctors to write you a prescription. Meanwhile we need to make sure we keep your fever down."

Peter nodded and started to sit up. His hand hurt when he used it to brace himself then he was hit with what seemed like a million lights all shining in his eyes. "Can you turn off the lights?"

Ben stood up and flipped the light switch. "Better?"

Peter nodded as the hum of the fluorescent light stopped. In the back of his head he thought that was weird. He didn't remember hearing the bulb before. Maybe it was getting ready to blow. Right now that was a good thing. Blown bulb meant no bright lights piercing his brain. "Thanks." He sat up and rubbed his wrist. Taking the Motrin cup he downed it and handed it back to Ben.

"Ok. Will you be ok by yourself? I'll run down to the corner and pick up some Gatorade and then sandwiches. We probably need some more Motrin. Maybe 30 minutes?" Ben watched Peter carefully. He seemed to be breathing ok. And his inhaler was next to his bed so even if he had a problem he knew what to do. "Just do me a favor and stay upright so nothing settles in your lungs."

Peter nodded and pushed himself further up on the bed. He didn't pay much attention to the fact that his hand didn't hurt like it did before. "I'm fine. Fever will probably be down before you get back." Ben nodded and walked out of Peter's view. He heard the front door close, the locks lock, and Ben's footsteps down the hall. He wondered if the neighbors were just all working late. He could suddenly taste the orange flavoring in the Motrin. It almost made him gag. Pushing off the bed he made his way to the bathroom to brush his teeth. Maybe it was time to switch to pills. They had kept him on liquid for so long because if he was having a reaction to something, sometimes his throat started to close up and liquid was just easier. He picked up his toothbrush and started to put some of the paste on the bristles when the handle broke in half. He stared at the brush in disbelieve. Picking up both pieces he tossed it into the garbage. The sound of the pieces hitting the bottom of the trash can echoed in his ears. All of the sudden everything was impossibly loud. The water in the pipes, the cars on the street below, Uncle Ben's voice leaving a message for May. He gripped the edge of the sink to try to get his bearings until he felt the edge of the porcelain crack. Throwing his hands off he stared at the sink and then up into his reflection in the mirror. None of this should be happening. He heard voices from the street again, only this time it didn't sound friendly. In a panic he ran out of the bathroom and threw the front door open. He didn't even remember getting to the stairwell but he did remember skidding to a stop and running into the concrete block wall in the stairwell as a gunshot almost deafened him. It was followed by two others that almost dropped him to the floor. Jumping over the railing, he skipped most of the remaining flights and pushed open the emergency door and ran down the street, he skidded to a stop when he came up on a crowd of people. "No, no, no…". He pushed his way through the crowd and landed on his knees next to Ben. The amount of blood was incomprehensible. "Ben, no…". He pressed his hands against the wound in his chest but he somehow knew it was useless. He could hear the blood flowing but he couldn't hear anything pushing it out. He couldn't hear Ben's heart. It didn't matter that he knew he shouldn't have been able to hear it, all that mattered was that he knew Ben was gone.

Peter couldn't have told anyone how he got to the police station, or what they said to him, or what they asked him. All he remembered was an officer bringing May into the room where they were letting him wait. He remembered the look on her face.

xxxxxxxxxx

May was strong. Peter just wished she didn't have to be. He didn't tell her that the police had called to let them know that they could pick up Ben's belongings. He wanted to handle it himself, so she wouldn't have to. He made his way through the building, following the instructions the man on the phone and given him until he found the desk. "I'm here to pick up Ben Parker's belongings."

The lady behind the desk looked at a list in front of her before looking up at Peter. "Ben Parker. Yes. We have his body being released this afternoon to Stutzman's for cremation."

"Yes ma'am."

The lady looked up and her eyes softened when she saw Peter. "You're his nephew, right? I'm so sorry for your loss."

"Thank you ma'am." Peter didn't know what else to say. He hadn't known what to say at school and he barely knew what to say to May.

The lady stood up and retrieved a box from the shelf behind her. Setting the box down, she pulled the top off. "I want to make sure you saw this." She picked up a simple gold band from the bottom of the box and handed it to Peter. "They sometimes get lost in the bottom."

Peter closed his hand around Ben's wedding ring. He didn't know what to do with it other than hold it and not let go.

The lady handed him a clip board. "Can you sign that you've picked it up?"

Peter nodded and scrawled his name next to the line that said "Benjamin F. Parker". He picked up the box and started to turn towards the door when the lady stopped him.

"Do you want a copy of the incident report?" She held up a stapled packet of paper. "Sometimes you need it for insurance."

Peter nodded and took the papers from the lady. "Thanks for all your help." He forced a smile on his face and retreated from the office. He didn't know how she dealt with this every day.

xxxxxxxxxx

Peter sat on the couch in the apartment waiting for May to return from finishing the funeral preparation meeting. They weren't planning anything elaborate. Just the two of them. Ben's ashes were going to be kept at the columbarium at the Fresh Ponds Cemetery. There wasn't anyone else so there was no need to make a big fuss over anything. Peter looked at the necklace looped over his fingers. He had thought about trying to buy a new one but then he remembered a jewelry box that May had. She didn't wear a lot of jewelry so it was buried at the back of her dresser. Inside he found a gold necklace that seemed to fit perfectly with the simple gold band. He hoped she was ok with the idea. Pooling the necklace on the table he picked up the incident report. He hadn't read through it yet. He wasn't sure if he wanted do. He hadn't slept well since that night. Ignoring every instinct that told him to put the paper down, he continued reading. By the time May opened the door, he was burning with anger.

"The guy that killed him has been in jail…and released..three times!" Peter was furious. If they had just kept him in jail, his uncle would be alive.

May crossed the room and took the paper out of Peter's hand. "And…". She sat down on the coffee table in front of Peter and pulled him down to the sofa. "Peter, things happen. We don't always like them. In fact I'm pretty sure I hate this right now. But lashing out won't get you anything but more hurt."

"Why can't they just keep the bad guys in jail." Peter fought back tears.

"What's your definition of bad?"

Peter paused. "Killing someone is pretty bad."

"It is. But does killing him make it better? Do the math…there's no prison large enough for everyone you're including in your definition of bad right now. You'd have to start enacting the death penalty for every crime." May watched Peter process what she was saying. "So how about the better option of helping people…doesn't matter if they're good or bad in your eyes." She sighed. "There's enough death in this world already. We don't need to add any more. What we need to do is help where we can." She waited for Peter to look up at her, "Imagine what would have happened if someone had helped that man before. Maybe there would have been a different outcome. Leave the big stuff to the Avengers. If we can help one little guy, we've done our part to save the world."

"But…". Peter was letting what she was saying roll around in his head while his mouth was still protesting.

"But nothing Peter. You can't save the world, all you can do is your best to help those around you, even if you don't like them." She reached over and patted his cheek. She understood his anger, she had plenty of it herself and it was a constant battle not to let it eat away at her because it's not what Ben would have wanted. She put her hands down to push herself off the table. Her palm brushed against the chain. Picking it up, a smile crossed her lips. She ran her fingers across the ring. Slipping the necklace over her head, she held the ring up. "Peter, it's perfect. And it's a good reminder to me that Ben wouldn't want us waste our lives being angry."

Peter sat back and the couch and nodded. Not angry. He wasn't sure if he could do that quite yet.

xxxxxxxxxx

Peter looked in the mirror as he toweled off. What in the hell was going on…he lifted his arm up and made a muscle…a muscle that wasn't there a week ago. He had figured all of the broken pencils and pens at school had been built up frustration and anger. He was starting to think otherwise. He looked down at the faint red mark on his hand. It kind of reminded him of the injection spots he had after his eleven year old shots. It's where he had knocked the spider off. Maybe it had bitten him. He looked back up into the mirror, "great…spider bite in a lab working on genetic mutations…what could go wrong." He couldn't tell anyone, that would just lead to more questions and him getting in trouble. May did not need him getting in trouble right now. What she did need was him to not be late to school. Pulling his shirt over his head, he hung the towel back up and made his way back to his bedroom. Grabbing a hoodie, he pulled it over his head and grabbed his backpack.

May looked up as he walked down the hall. "You're going to Ned's after school, right?"

Peter nodded and scanned the counter for something to eat on the way. Seeing a banana he grabbed it. A banana actually sounded good right now. "I'll finish my homework over there. I'll probably eat there too if that's ok."

May nodded. "It's perfect. I picked up a double shift so I won't be home for dinner." She frowned at the banana. "Since when do you eat bananas? I thought I was the only one that liked them."

Peter shrugged and took a bite. "I don't know, it just sounded good." He pulled off the rest of the peel and threw it into the garbage can. Shoving the rest of it in his mouth he waved as he left the apartment. Trotting down the stairs, he stopped at the one of the landing stared at the cracks in the concrete wall. It was one of the few things he truly remembered from that night. He shouldn't have been able to crack the wall. And if he had hit it that hard, it should have broken something. Pushing it out of his mind, he ran down the rest of the stairs.

xxxxxxxxxx

Peter kicked a loose piece of paper on the ground. He had had been distracted all day. So distracted that Ned had even said something about it. So far everyone was assuming it was related to Ben. Part of Peter felt guilty because he knew that wasn't it, at least not the way everyone thought.

He had taken the long way home. May would be pissed if she knew he was walking by himself through this area. It was full of abandoned buildings. The wind picked up a piece of paper and blew it into the alley. Following it with his eyes, he saw the remains of a building. Some of the walls were still intact but it was definitely not usable. There wasn't as much damage on this side of the river from the attack three years ago but there was still some, and it wasn't on the list to clean up any time soon. Walking into the alleyway, he looked at a concrete wall. It looked like it was the same material as the stairwell. Rearing his fist back, he hit it as hard as he could and watched in astonishment as the entire wall collapsed. "Holy shit."

He backed away from the wall and looked down at his hand. His knuckles had a few red marks from where the concrete had torn the skin. He watched in fascination as the marks disappeared. This was definitely not normal. He turned and ran out of the alley and down the street in the direction of his apartment. He was about two blocks away from the abandoned building when he realized he wasn't wheezing. "Definitely not normal, " he muttered as he slowed to a walk.

He could hear way too much. People's conversations at the dinner table inside their apartments as he walked past their buildings, arguments between friends, couples, enemies. All very human, very normal. May and Ben rolled through his head as he heard a couple teasing each other they way they used to. Help people. That's what May had said. Help. The word itself rolled around in his head. Then it echoed through his head as a scream. Looking around he focused on the word. It was too much input but by focusing on the scream he could pinpoint the direction and even knew how far away it was. He heard the scream again and he took off running. Skidding to a stop in front of an alley he saw two men attacking a girl that looked to be about 18.

"Pick on someone your own size." Peter yelled into the alley. He wasn't entire sure what his plan was. The word help just kept echoing through his brain. The two men looked down the alley in confusion. It was enough for girl to scramble away from them and run through the alley and to freedom on the other side.

One the men shrugged, "you're not exactly our size either." He crossed the distance and pulled his fist back. His fist should have made contact with the boys face except it didn't. The boy had stopped his punch mid swing.

"Dude, what is wrong with you? Attacking girls and trying to beat up people half your size? Why?" Peter held the man's fist in place and studied his face. He had to be early 20's, mid 20's at best. Roughly the same age as the person that had killed Ben.

The man tried to pull his fist away. He was fully aware that his friend had taken off down the alleyway to escape. "Who are you?" He pulled his fist again and this time it was released. He didn't wait for an answer to his question. Instead, he ran,

Peter watched him disappear down the alley. He could hear the quick pace of his footsteps. Suddenly everything was too bright and too loud. Squatting down, he put his hands over his ears and squeezed his eyes shut. "Focus", he muttered to himself in an effort to get everything under control. He felt his sense dialing back down and focused this time on the question. Who was he. He sure as hell wasn't Peter Parker, lowly freshman.