A/N: Thank you so much to everyone who read and reviewed! I really appreciate it! I have been working on this story since October, and I wrote it out of order. I have prewritten about a third of it, so updates should be somewhat regular, but I may hit a snag here or there. Also, I wrote the author's notes as I wrote the story, so some things that may have been applicable to my life when I wrote it may or may not still be true or applicable. For example, I might talk about school as if I'm still there. Thank you for your understanding of my weird quirks, let's get on with the story!

—

"So who was it? Who hit you?" May called from the kitchen where she was getting ice for him.

"Some guy," Peter answered, distractedly itching around the web shooter on his wrist.

"What's 'some guy's' name?"

"Uh, Steve," he answered as a bright red light emitted from the web shooter when he accidentally pressed a button.

"Steve? From 12 C? With the overbite?" The concern in May's voice increased at each question. Peter had to get her to calm down.

"No, no, no, you don't know him! He's from Brooklyn!" Peter called, still examining the red light, then quickly hiding it and putting his 'in pain' act back on when May came back into the room.

"Ouch," he moaned pathetically.

"Well, I hope you got a few good licks in."

"Yeah, I got quite a few in actually," Peter answered, taking the ice pack from her, "His friend was huge. Like huge."

Long ago, Peter had mastered the art of lying while still telling enough of the truth that the person still believed you. He vaguely remembered his father teaching him that during an incident when one of them had eaten all the cookies and didn't want to get into trouble with his mother. That was a long time ago though, and Peter barely remembered it.

May nodded.

"That's way better. Thank you," he said, half of his face hidden in the ice pack, waiting for his aunt to leave while trying to not look suspicious about it.

"Okay, tough guy," May said before she got up to leave.

"Love you, May!" he called, "Hey could you shut the door?"

As soon as the door closed firmly, Peter unfolded himself and looked at the red light projecting onto the ceiling with elation.

It was the face of Spider-man, his face when he wore the mask.

It was his superhero symbol.

—

2 Months Later

"Hey Peter!" Ned called, running down the hall after his best friend at school.

"Hey Ned," Peter replied as soon as the other teen had caught up with him.

"You okay, Peter?" Ned asked, lowering his eyebrows.

"Yeah, why?"

Ned gave his friend a quizzical look. "You're limping. Are you sure you didn't land funny while you were…" Ned made a swinging motion with his hand.

"What? No!" Peter cried, giving Ned a look. "We're not going to talk about that in public, remember?" he said under his breath.

Ned gave him a look. "Oh! Right! We're not talking about that."

Peter rolled his eyes.

"But seriously, dude. Are you alright?"

Peter shrugged. He hadn't really given it that much thought, but now that it had been pointed out to him, he realized that he was limping quite hard.

"It is a little sore, I guess."

Ned nodded. "Dude, you should tell your aunt about it. She's a nurse, right?"

"Yeah."

"So she would know if it's anything to be concerned about, right?"

Peter's shoulders slumped. "Ned, I don't want to tell her about it because if she finds out that I'm limping, then I might have to tell her about you-know-what. She doesn't need to know about that."

Ned gave him yet another pointed look. "She's your aunt Peter. If something's wrong with you, she's going to want to know about it so that she can help you."

"Fine," Peter grumbled. "I'll tell her by this time next week if it doesn't go away by then."

"Okay," Ned nodded in agreement. He would just have to make sure that his friend kept his promise.

—

A week and a half and a field trip to D.C. later, Peter limped home from school, his right hip hurting more than usual. This was getting ridiculous. His hip shouldn't be hurting at all, especially since he had super healing. He might ask Dr. Banner about it if he ever met him, which was unlikely, but he didn't want to worry May. He never wanted to worry her. Or Mr. Stark for that matter. Not that Mr. Stark would care. He had basically ignored Peter since they came back from Germany, with the exception of a few nights ago when he pulled Peter from a lake.

"Peter? Are you okay?" He heard May ask almost as soon as he entered the apartment.

Oh, no, he thought.

"I'm okay, May," he said as he limped across the kitchen for a snack after a long day at school.

"You don't look okay," his aunt insisted, looking at him quizzically, "you don't normally limp like that. Is your leg or hip sore?"

"My hip is kinda sore," he said quietly and reluctantly.

May continued to study him, "How long has it been sore for? Was it sore in D.C.?"

Peter nodded ashamedly, head down.

"Was it sore before you went to the internship retreat with Mr. Stark?"

Peter looked up at his aunt and nodded reluctantly.

May sighed. "Tomorrow I'm going to bring you into the hospital clinic with me. We should get it checked out. If it's been sore for that long, we should see if you pulled it or something or if there are some exercises they can prescribe for you to do to make it feel better."

Peter smiled a little. "Okay."

"I'm going to call the school and let them know you're going to be late tomorrow, okay?"

"Okay. I should call Ned and ask him to get homework for me."

May smiled, "You do that."

—

"Well, it doesn't look pulled or stretched," Dr. Lewis said, a quizzical look on his face.

"Then what is it?" May asked.

The doctor looked up. "I'm going to order an X-ray and an MRI. It's probably nothing serious, but I want to make sure."

May nodded and Peter looked concerned. As soon as the doctor left the room, Peter looked at May.

"What's wrong with me?" he asked, worry deep in his eyes.

May looked back at him seriously. "He said he doesn't know yet and that he needs to run more tests."

"Do you think it's serious? The doctor looked concerned."

May took a deep breath and looked at the ceiling before she looked her nephew in the eyes. "I don't know. It could be."

"Are you willing to say more than that, Nurse Parker?" Peter asked her, a slight smile on his face.

May gave a little smile back, "No, I'm not, Mr. Parker. I think it's best if we just wait patiently for the good doctor's diagnosis."

—

Several hours, an X-ray, and an MRI later, Peter joined May in the small doctor's room again to wait for the doctor's diagnosis.

"How long do you think we're going to have to wait here?" Peter found himself asking May for what seemed the millionth time after having been kept waiting for forty minutes.

"I don't know," May replied, looking up at him from her magazine. "My answer won't be any different than it has been the last hundred times you asked me that."

Peter sighed and slumped in his seat. He was seriously beginning to regret not bringing a book. He would even do homework at this point to keep himself from dying of boredom!

Just then, Dr. Lewis came into the room, a sad look on his face, his shoulders largely slumped over.

Before either Peter or May could speak, he held up a hand and sat down heavily on his doctor's stool.

He looked up at them with sad eyes and at that moment, Peter knew without a doubt that something was gravely wrong with him.

"This is by far the worst part of my job. I'm so sorry, but Peter has cancer."

Peter felt tears begin to prick the back of his eyes as he stared at the doctor in disbelief.

May leaned forward in her chair. "How serious is it? How are we going to treat it?"

The doctor looked at her. "I'm afraid all cancer is very serious, but the kind that Peter has develops more quickly than others. I'd like to schedule him for chemotherapy as soon as next week."

"Next week?" May asked him, blinking.

"Yes, though we can wait as long as two weeks to get started, but I do not recommend that," Dr. Lewis replied. "I'm going to go come up with a chemo schedule for you and get you some materials to read while you two process this."

With that, the doctor left the room.

Peter felt numb. He didn't know what to say or do or how to react. This was big and far worse than he had imagined. He also wondered how it was possible to have cancer when he had super healing. His body and his powers were supposed to protect him from this! Why weren't they working?

May looked at her nephew. She didn't know what to say. She tried to keep a brave face for Peter's sake, but she herself did not know how to react yet. Since she worked at a hospital, she knew the details of cancer treatment much better than a typical parent would in this situation. That information made her more and less worried for Peter at the same time. She knew she would have to be brave if they were going to get through this.

May was the first to break the silence. "Are you okay?" she asked Peter.

Peter shrugged, not knowing what to say. He was overwhelmed. He could feel his senses wanting to overload.

"Oh, Peter," May sighed, bringing him in for a hug, "We'll get through this together."

Peter took a deep breath and let the tears he was not aware he was holding in fall.

"How do you know?"

May gently brushed his hair away from his face and lifted his chin up to look her in the eye.

"I know because you are the strongest person I know. If anyone can get through this, it's you."

Peter settled back into his aunt's arms. He was no less terrified, but he felt a little braver and a little more confident.

"May?"

"Hmm?"

"I love you."

"I love you too, my sweet boy."

—

A/N: Admittedly, my knowledge of cancer is very limited. As a result, I have chosen to focus on the emotional and character development side of having such an illness in this story. I have tried my very best to depict it as accurately as I can, but please keep in mind that there is no such thing as a cookie-cutter representation of such an illness. Meaning, everyone's experience with it is going to be different. I apologize profusely if anyone who actually has or has had cancer does not believe that this representation is accurate. I will however, reiterate that everyone's experience with cancer is different and I will go on to say that if Peter's experience is different than a typical person's (if there is even such a thing) that I blame it on the unique circumstances of Peter's life i.e. the spider bite and resulting radiation. Since I have no medical knowledge or expertise, I will be focussing on the emotional and phycological effects of being or observing a person with a long-term illness (something I do have experience with, though admittedly not cancer). If you're looking for a more biologically accurate story, this will most likely not be the story for you.