A/N: Hey, guys! Unfortunately, this chapter is a little short, for which I apologize. However, this chapter was fun to write; but was also slightly rushed. Don't forget to review! Please fix me on my mistakes; I'm sure there are plenty! Also, a giant thank you to those who have followed, favorited, and reviewed this story. You guys keep me going! Tell me what you think of the story so far! I hope you all are enjoying reading it as I am writing it!
I had no luck in locating anybody of the Bad-Felons-Who-Had-The-Cool-Weapons, so I just went back home. I was praying that Ned had successfully covered for me and Aunt May and Mrs. Leed weren't digging up all of Queens to search for my dead body. And I was hoping that they wouldn't have to bury my dead body after I got home and Aunt May killed me for disappearing.
Man, why did I ever go over to Ned's today?
As my apartment came into sight, I realized that my civilian clothes were back in Ned's room. I groaned, wanting to flop on the floor and just sleep. For all eternity.
My savings had been spent on a collection of Star Wars movies and a churro, so it wasn't like I could go out and buy some tourist shirts and shorts. I could always just go in my underwear…
No. No, no, no, that was not happening, sorry.
I racked my brain, thinking, thinking, as I sat perched on a rooftop across the street. My mask was pulled up as I munched on my churro. I had (obviously not been thinking) used up the rest of my cash to buy the sugary, cinnamon stick after I had been able to get back up off the destroyed taxi and onto my staggering feet. My brain still muddled from the impact and ears still ringing, I had stumbled around town and came across a churro stand. Obviously, you know what happened next.
Now, I was regretting that decision. Well, slightly, anyways. The sugar and carbs coursed through my veins, making me feel a little better.
I didn't know how in the world I was going to cover up all the cuts from broken glass, bruises from tin, and bangs from falling forty feet from the sky.
After ten minutes, nothing had come to mind. So, sighing, I stood up, moaning at the movement.
"Come on. You're Spider-Man. You've got this. You have lifted up cars. You have defeated a giant vulture-dude. You have risen from the remains of a destroyed building. You have survived drowning. You have held a ferry together. You can jump from one building to the next. All you've got are a few bumps and bruises. Iron Man gets broken faces and swords stabbed through his abdomen!" Okay, not really, but still. "You've got this, Spider-Man!"
My pep talk had me backing up, and my muscles bunched as I pulled my mask back over my mouth. You've got this, Spider-Man. You've got this.
I sprang into action, running full throttle, even over my burning muscles and pushing through my limp.
I leapt, my arms and legs flailing as I soared wildly through the sky. I let out a sound that was a hybrid of a scared yelp and a breathless whoop.
I landed on the other side, but my legs crumpled beneath me, my ankles rolling. I tumbled across the concrete rooftop, finally stopping as I collided with a vent.
"Ouch."
I wearily clambered back onto my feet and took a few unsteady steps before shaking my head and heading towards the wall. Taking a deep breath and clearing my head, I started crawling down the bricks, avoiding windows and clinging to ledges when I came across them. At last, I reached my own room. Luckily, I always the kept the window unlocked, and Aunt May had yet to figure that fact out and lock it back up.
I opened the window with one hand and peered in. The door was shut. Thanks the gods.
I silently stepped into my room and changed as quickly as I could. There was no sound of hysterically sobbing or frenzied yelling, so I was hoping that I was in the clear.
Hiding my suit (in the bottomless pit that was my closet), I went back out the window and closed it behind me with my foot. I spider-crawled all the way across the building and down towards the door. Sighing and bracing myself, I walked through the double doors and went straight for the elevator. I didn't bother with the stairs - I was too stressed and sore to run up to my apartment.
The small, musical ding! alerted me that I had reached my destination. My stomach was roiling; I hated letting down Aunt May, and facing her wrath or cold disappointment was most definitely not on my to-do list.
I walked up to the apartment door and, forcing my hand to raise, knocked hesitantly on the door. I cringed, biting my lower lip, as I heard the lock click.
The door swung open to reveal a flushed and frazzled Aunt May. I shuddered, before noticing something odd.
She was smiling.
Smiling.
What the -?!
"Peter, at last! It took you long enough!" I was grabbed by surprisingly strong arms and bustled inside, the door shutting and locking behind me. "He's going to be here in ten minutes! Hurry, hurry, go clean yourself up! You look you just ran a marathon! Oh, dear, you smell like it, too. Hurry ,go shower, and get in here ASAP! Hurry!"
I was thrown towards the bathroom, and the aromas of cooking foods wafted around the air. Still startled and absolutely dumbfounded on why my butt wasn't getting chewed out, I grabbed some clothes and took the fastest shower I could. I threw a NASA shirt over my head and tugged on some canvas joggers. I walked out of the slightly steaming bathroom, still attempting to gel and comb my hair, even without a mirror.
Aunt May was setting places at our humble table, bustling around the room as she scrambled to get ready before our guest arrived.
Suddenly, a strange fact struck me.
"Hey, Aunt May? What's this park-guy's name?" I asked her, adding what I hoped to be a charming touch to my hair and setting the tube of gel and comb down on the table. I had picked up a spoon and used it as a mirror.
"Hmm? Oh, right. Phineas Mason," she called over the dim of a beeping oven, swatting at the smoke billowing from its insides.
"How does he know where we live?"
"I wrote down our address on a sticky note he had in his pocket."
So, he happened to have a spare sticky note and pen in his suit pocket at the park? Each man has their own hobbies, I guess, I thought, shrugging it off.
"Oh, my, look at the time!" May straightened up and fluffed up her hair, smoothing down her flattering dress.
With a teasing glint in my eye, I said, "Aunt May, are you sure this isn't a date?"
She glared at me, then seemed to suddenly fully see me.
"Oh my gosh! Peter! You have to be wearing something way better than that!" She shot a disgusted look at my gray t-shirt. "Go put a suit on or someth-"
We froze as someone knocked on our door.
"He's here!"