Disclaimer: I don't own any part of the Spider-Man universe, nor any other portion of the Marvel Universe… nor its mini universes or anything else.
Warning: No beta input. I'm so sorry.
Trigger: None at all, unless you're prone to going 'Awww!' at cute things.
Navigating The Curve By Juliette Lyst
To Be Mine
Parallel Worlds - Parallel Lives (Alternate Universe)
He could not be sure when his view on his life had begun to change. Until a month ago, he struggled to find a purpose. He was depressed over a broken relationship, felt useless at his job. The pain of MJ leaving had resulted in his disappearance - one that could very well have lasted indefinitely.
Then… for no reason other than coincidence, he read the newspaper. New York held plenty of old baggage, but the person he cared most for was there. Sure, he didn't always enjoy how his former boss treated him, but the various teammates he'd picked up over the years web-slinging had become like a second family.
Family.
That was a tricky topic, wasn't it? His life had changed so drastically in less than a week. Through no fault of his own, he had been thrown into a completely different world. He was around people that he wanted to say he knew.
Everyone around him right now understandably had reservations. In the past, their nervous looks - when they thought he did not notice - would have made sense. Not now. He had lost everything in what he dubbed 'the accident.' It was a mistake that he was even here.
That he managed to survive too…
The alternative though… What was waiting back home for him? Nothing more than bitterness and pain.
He could have very well spent the rest of his life moving from one hostel to another, having to constantly work to provide money for daily rent. On the road, he owned nothing except for his duffle bag. Now he carried even less. Only his wallet and costume survived the trip with him. That was it.
The clothes he had worn to the hospital were bought here as was his nearly empty backpack. The gaping holes in possessions mirrored the emptiness of his life.
Was this all there was?
He had asked himself that question over the many nights that he worked with the Knott family. His time with them was very simple, but peaceful. He was so happy to be able to contribute something to
help them.
They could have easily run him off their property, but had allowed him to stay in exchange for work. Then… memories of the night he left them came.
What would he have done if Caleb had never killed Jonas? What if all they had to do that night was deliver a bag of rice or fresh cane? Would he have ever left that existence?
He had to bathe outside with a bucket or hike to the nearest stream for a brisk bath. Rainy days had proven themselves to be helpful in that regard as well. I might never have seen that paper. Sighing faintly in his seat on the tan couch, he lightly plucked at his nighttime attire: a white t-shirt and red flannel bottoms that Jen loaned him. I could have stayed… But was that really what he wanted?
He had a desire to stay near his loved ones - near MJ, though she didn't want him in her life anymore. Peter didn't want the pain and stress of that… He had been treated as nothing for so long, had forgiven so often even when he should have been outraged.
Deep down, Peter was a sensitive man, behind the laughter and wise cracks.
Sometimes, he could beat himself up so badly over a decision that he would begin to doubt himself. Several times, he had been on the precipice of hanging up his tights once and for all.
What was it all worth really? In the end?
Who he was could be construed as the result of a series of very unfortunate events, couldn't it?
Would he have stayed with MJ as long as he had?
Where would they live if so? What would have happened to Uncle Ben? Surely, the older man would still be alive had Peter not gotten a ride that day.
His eyes watered thinking about how in just one act of selfishness, he had lost one of the most important people in his life. Since then, he worked hard at showing how serious he was about everything . He tackled his job with the same fervor as he did crimefighting.
This attitude had backfired on him. Between the frequent absences and constant risks to his personal safety, an immovable wedge had been placed between him and his ex-fiancée.
It's all my fault… he realized grimly. Until he could find a balance between Spider-Man and Peter Parker, he was no good to anyone. Much less someone that he was supposed to spend the rest of his life with.
What had his response been to his breakup with Mary Jane? To run away without telling anyone. He had done nothing other than prove her right. He supposed he would have thanked her for the insights, had he the chance before his foolhardy fight against Doc Ock.
"Is anything worth all of this?" he asked under his breath, leaning forward and resting his head in his hands. He had no time to process what he'd endured in just a few short months.
Noticing a sudden shadow over him, Peter looked up.
Jennifer was standing there in a loose-fitting black and gray shirt with matching flannel bottoms. She was holding two cereal bowls, one dark brow arched high. "You look like your best friend just died," she pointed out bluntly. Her gaze wandered to the blinds - drawn for the evening, her lips pressed into a thin line… After a moment, she asked, "Is everything alright?"
Not responding, Peter reached up to take one of the bowls from her. He wasn't certain how to respond to her question - not yet. Certainly not when his emotions still felt so raw.
Intelligent brown eyes watched him, curiosity in their depths. Quietly, Jennifer sat down next to him on the couch and dug into the contents of her bowl.
Peter grimaced just a little at the sight. He liked ice cream fine and all, but that was mostly all she ate at night ever since being discharged.
His friend moaned around the spoon in her mouth.
The young hero grabbed the remote control to the television and turned it on.
"What are we watching tonight?" he asked. Not receiving a response, he glanced to his right and held back a laugh. Jennifer was swaying a little where she sat, both eyes closed. While she was distracted, Peter carefully spooned heaps of the ice cream from his bowl to hers.
Not expecting much of a response, he began flipping through the channels. Nothing that interesting was on. Eventually, he ran into Court TV and felt slender fingers rest on his wrist. Of course. He did laugh then. Jennifer always seemed to have a fixation on either shows with cops or legal matters. Or both. She claimed that they were what she was most drawn to.
He knew that wasn't true, because he'd caught her one afternoon watching cartoons and eating popcorn.
"What's so funny?" she asked, confusion written on her face. When his answer wasn't forthcoming, she pouted but dug into her bowl again. She did a double take while looking between their bowls. "How… How did you eat yours so fast?"
In response, Peter popped a spoonfull of the ice cream in his mouth. He barely managed to hold back a grimace at the taste.
"Oh, do you want me to get more for you?" Jennifer moved to get up, but Peter shook his head.
"No thank you. I'm pretty full," he replied. That's not even a half truth… he thought with a sigh. "Do you want the rest of this, Jen?"
Dropping her bowl down in her lap, she eagerly scooped his out of his hands and scraped out what ice cream remained. She even licked the bowl clean before handing it back to him. After a few minutes of companionable silence, she spoke again.
"So, you never told me what's upsetting you so much," she began. She figured it best to cut to the chase.
Peter frowned. How could he explain? Would she feel offended if he told her that being here at all was the cause of his distress?
He was dealing with an existential crisis. "You can tell me, you know," she added.
He did know - and that was part of the problem. Peter was torn, his want to return home warring with his burgeoning desire to stay here .
"Come on, now," she lightly nudged him with her shoulder. "We are having a baby together. I'm pretty sure whatever you have to say, I can handle."
Ah… he thought. There was that too. "How are you and Baby feeling tonight?" he asked, reaching down to feel the soft curve in her abdomen with his right hand.
One of the few times that he felt useful lately was when he'd sat next to her at the hospital, watching as the doctor did a final ultrasound before she was discharged.
Overwhelmed at what she was seeing, Jennifer had reached for his hand - needing the support, and he had given it to her without thinking.
He had felt confused, worried even… at first - until he looked at the screen. The image on the screen wasn't one he would soon forget. Peter wasn't supposed to feel so attached to a child that wasn't his. Yet… so many different emotions melded together that day.
He vividly remembered what the doctor had told them.
There's your baby. A bit shy I see. Got the legs crossed and everything," The doctor was intently studying the screen as he spoke. "Everything looks good. You're on track for thirteen weeks." Peter felt his heart pounding; his hands trembling. She certainly felt that, because he felt her responding squeeze in return. Thirteen weeks?
Narrowing his eyes, the doctor leaned closer. Eyes crinkling at the corners after a moment, he remarked - smiling. "Someone is sucking their thumb!"
Jennifer sniffled loudly; her eyes moist. "That thumb sucking came from somewhere," she stated plainly, rolling her eyes and laughing. "Certainly not a habit I took up."
Peter piped up. "Hey! I resemble that remark!" After a moment, his cheeks flushed… realizing what he was saying. Was it possible that this itty-bitty thing was worming its way into his heart so soon? He was claiming traits that didn't belong to him.
His reverie was broken when Jen began speaking again.
"… voiding the question, I see," Jennifer said softly, resting her left hand over his. "You're fortunate we're not in a court of law, Pete," her words held absolutely no heat. "Otherwise, I could have you thrown out for contempt." A faint smile crossed her lips.
"Not if I invoke my right to plead the fifth," Peter replied.
Jennifer snorted at that. If there was one statement that she'd hated in court, that was at the top of the list. Why did the ones who committed heinous crimes know enough to use that defense? Not that there weren't more… unethical methods to extract a confession. Then again… she always preferred to play by the book.
He observed her carefully as she balanced the bowl on her right leg and ate with one hand. "That's not going to give you a stomachache?" he asked. That had become a genuine concern of his.
Upset stomachs for Jen meant long nights for him. He simply could not relax when he could clearly hear her moaning in discomfort. The last three nights, she'd ended up hugging the toilet - cursing his existence.
The first night, he'd felt afraid to touch her, not wanting to make it worse.
The second night… He couldn't just ignore it. Both of them had occupied the bathroom together for a solid two hours.
Jen had apologized and promised it would never happen again.
Then last night happened. With a sigh, he 'rescued' the bowl from her clutches.
Jen cast a quick sideways glance to Peter. "I was still eating that," she stated, a faint whine in her voice.
He held it up out of reach.
Dark brows angled downwards, frustration over what he was doing beginning to build. She was starting to get upset with him.
Peter could care less. "I'm saving you from yourself tonight," And saving myself from another nightmare in the bathroom again. The noise of frequent flushing at night did not need the additional background sound of her violent heaving. "You'll thank me later."
"Peter," she began, a warning tone in her voice. Jen rarely called him that. Hearing it was stranger than the shortened version of his name she'd adopted.
"You've had enough dairy tonight," he punctuated his words by gently rubbing her belly. "It's not good for the baby." If looks could kill… he thought as he got up to put the dessert back in the freezer. My head would have been pulled from my spine. In truth, he admired her for not transforming and throttling him for taking away something she clearly had a craving for.
He could hear her footfalls behind him as he opened the freezer. "… You have got to be kidding me," he muttered under his breath.
Now, he understood why he was never asked to do any runs for more of the frozen dessert. Her freezer was jam packed. There were pints of ice cream everywhere. Grabbing the closest container of rocky road, he scooped the remainder from the bowl back into the container.
"I'm still hungry," she grumbled.
Her voice drifted over to him as he firmly closed the freezer door. He turned around and blocked the door with his body.
"Really Peter? Do you think you can block me from my own freezer?!"
"I can order out - probably - if you're still hungry," he offered. Instead, Jen shook her head. "You know what I want…" She adopted
a pitiful look.
The taller man would not be moved. It didn't matter how much Jennifer looked at him with those big brown eyes. He wasn't going to give in. He hated dealing with sick Jennifer. Sick Jennifer was more nerve wracking than Angry Jennifer. "There are other foods out there. Tacos for one!"
Her nose crinkled at that.
"That's not what I want!" As if punctuating her point, she stomped her right foot and folded her arms.
Mirroring her, Peter leaned against the fridge. His unblinking gaze was focused on her.
"You can't stay there forever!" she nearly yelled, red spots forming on her cheeks.
"Oh, I can," he assured her with a smirk. "We'll see which one of us can stand here the longest."
Gritting her teeth, Jennifer's eyes narrowed to slits. It was a wonder that she hadn't growled at him yet.
When Peter looked back on this memory, he'd rightly call this one of the strangest battles of will he'd ever endured.
Midnight
Rustling sounds roused him from a sound sleep on the couch. Sitting up, he let the blankets pool around his bare waist, having shed the shirt before bed. Yawning faintly, he stretched and clambered off the couch.
Peter was unprepared for what he saw as he passed the kitchen. Stopping, he leaned back and took a second look. Jennifer was sitting on the floor, eating out of one of his tubs of yogurt, the second tub right beside her - yet unopened.
She was still wearing the flannel bottoms, but had traded her shirt for a sports bra. Clearing his throat so he wouldn't startle her, Peter sat down next to Jennifer on the floor. "Hungry, huh?" he asked, gently.
Jen had the spoon in her mouth, guilt causing her cheeks to redden. Silently, she nodded and scooped more of the yogurt into her waiting mouth.
"At least it's healthier," he admitted. Scooting a little closer, Peter stared directly down into the tub. "Umm… Jen?"
He thought that maybe he was seeing things. "Hmm?"
For a moment, the web-swinger struggled, trying to figure out how to voice his concerns. "Did you… add anything to this by chance?" he asked. He hoped so, otherwise he was going to have a serious issue in the next few hours.
Nodding, Jen swallowed her mouthful before speaking. "It was missing something," she began, trying to excuse her unusual behavior. "So, I went and added chocolate chips to it." She licked her lips.
"Jen, you do know that there's peach at the bottom, don't you?" Peter knew his nose was scrunching up a little as he watched her devour his favorite Greek yogurt.
She nodded quickly. "Yes, yes," she replied, pointing at him with the spoon. "You told me I was eating too much ice cream. You're probably right." The flush in her cheeks deepened. "But I can't help it. I'm always so hungry these days."
"Uhh, yes. It shows, Jen," he replied woodenly, unable to erase the memory of seeing so many pints in the freezer. Noticing her suddenly stiffen up, Peter wondered what was wrong.
Her mouth dropped open and she seemed to be struggling to say something. Looking at him, her face reddened further until the blush was spreading to her chest. Her eyes began to fill with tears.
"Y-You think so?" she asked quietly, looking down at herself. She dropped the spoon into the yogurt, pushing the container away from herself.
"Jen?" Peter leaned over to check on her. "Are you feeling sick?" The wallcrawler had no warning about the sudden backhanded slap he was on the receiving end of. At least, this time she didn't hit him as hard. It still stung though.
Scooting away from her on the floor, he watched as Jen got to her feet and stood over him… fists clenched.
A whimper escaped her before she irritably rubbed at her eyes, tears squeezing from behind the lids.
She was angry and annoyed… and felt so disgusting now. Jennifer Walters was used to dealing with a barrage of emotions, but rage or fear seemed to be what always tipped her over the edge. Now, she was horrified - at what was happening to her body. "Peter Parker," she ground out, her entire body beginning to tremble.
"Y-You… How dare you just," she choked, gasping for breath… her voice audibly trembling. Uncertainty flit through her eyes.
Alarmed, Peter scrambled to his feet, and against his better judgment - he pulled her into a fierce hug.
Jennifer cried out - stiffening at the contact, but the sound was muffled against his chest. Her soft sobs mingled with unintelligible words filling the immediate area.
He frowned, thankful that he wasn't able to fully understand her.
"Shh… Calm down please," Peter begged, gently rubbing her back. Instead of helping like he hoped, her crying increased in volume. At least… He thought warily. I know the baby will have very strong lungs too. This did not bode well for him. He wasn't sure if he was adequately prepared for a sobbing Jen and fitfully crying newborn at the same time. He felt a chill race down his back at the thought. "Come on Jenny!"
He rocked the two of them in place on the kitchen floor.
The rocking seemed to work, and she slowed to a few sniffles, soothed by the motion. She moved her head, adjusting so she could breathe easier. "Mneh… Hate you," she grumbled, sniffing loudly.
Remaining silent, Peter continued to rock her. "I'm fat because of you," she added.
Now, he wasn't sure who she was referring to. If it took him taking some of the blame for his counterpart's actions to help her feel better… On second thought - he wanted to reconsider that.
"Fat… You said I'm fat…"
His eyes widened at her words. He hadn't said that to her, so where did she get that idea? Oh… he thought with chagrin. I'm an idiot. "Jenny," he began. "You have too many pints in your freezer. You're getting sick from eating too much ice cream. That's all I meant."
"Floor," she mumbled, a few tears still tracking down her cheeks.
It sounded like a question, so he pulled back from her a little. "What?"
Jennifer's cheeks and forehead were red and copious amounts of mucus ran from her nose.
Peter struggled to quickly school his features.
"Floor," she hissed, still angry despite his words. "Sleep on the floor!" Her features twisted up into a mucus coated snarl, and she pulled away from him-stalking-into the bathroom.
Peter remained silent… not even sure what had happened. That and now his chest was covered in her tears and snot. He grabbed a few paper towels in the kitchen to soap up his chest and clean himself off. He also picked up the tubs of yogurt and placed them back in the fridge.
So, she likes chocolate too? he thought with a faint smile. He wondered if she would like chocolate brownies. She could only eat so many of those easily. He carefully checked on the supply of chocolate chips in the fridge. I need to pick up more.
He had just secured a painting job that paid cash, and he was due there at seven in the morning.
With a sigh, he returned to the couch and pulled the blanket off. Locating a spot on the floor, he smirked and walked in a circle three times before sitting down. Flinging the blanket over himself again, he went back to sleep.
Hours Later
A quick shower later, Peter was in the kitchen, preparing breakfast for himself and Jen. He located some of her storage containers in the cabinets and was in the middle of whipping together healthier snacks for her. The celery looked a bit on the limp side, but he carefully cleaned it up and put a generous helping of crunchy peanut butter in the container with it. Stepping back to the stove, he flipped the French Toast with a wooden spatula.
He'd been surprised to find out that half of Jen's pans were non- stick. Also horrified, as he'd nearly used a metal fork in the current pan.
He chopped up a few apples, drizzling lemon juice on them so they wouldn't brown. Two sandwiches, bulging with meat and cheese were packed in separate containers. Post-it notes were slapped on the lids. Loading all the snacks up in the fridge for her to enjoy later, he also turned the bacon over in a separate skillet and finished working on the scrambled eggs in a third pan.
Once the food was done, he served everything up on plates - leaving them on the counter - and checked the cabinets for the crackers he'd seen there the other day. Pulling out a sleeve of saltines, he plodded to Jen's bedroom.
She was sprawled out in bed, her head thrown to one side. Drool was dripping out of her mouth and so close, he could hear a soft snore.
"Jenny. Hey, time to wake up," he spoke softly. The clock on her nightstand read 5:30AM.
When her eyes fluttered open, she squinted. "Pete?" she asked, still disoriented.
He helped her slowly sit up in bed. "Brought you a snack," he explained before handing her the entire sleeve of saltines. "Eat up. When you're done, I have breakfast for us before I leave."
He propped her up with pillows before leaving her room. Thankfully, he only had to wait ten minutes before she emerged from the bedroom. She was scratching her stomach and gave him a lazy
smile before walking into the bathroom. Okay… Not sick this morning. He had begun researching ways to help her with the persistent morning sickness after he got settled into her apartment.
He'd left her food in the microwave so it would stay warm. By the time she came out of the bathroom, he was sitting at the table and had just bitten into a second piece of bacon.
"You said something about breakfast?" she asked. She was still wiping sleep out of her eyes, her hair in disarray.
Nodding, he stood up. "Yeah. Go take a seat. I'll grab it for you."
That suit her well, as she wasn't too willing to move around that much so early in the morning.
"How are you feeling?" he asked.
She sat down, and rested her head on her arms. "Jen?" he asked.
He returned with the plate and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Come on, sit up now."
She did, yawning widely.
"I know it's early, but I wanted to make sure you ate before I left."
She nodded in understanding, her eyes lighting up as she saw her plate.
"What's all this?" She was so confused. She never remembered 'her' Peter ever making her breakfast… unless pouring cereal into a bowl counted. Her ex-boyfriend never bothered to even add milk for her. Her brain was a little foggy this morning, but as she looked up into Peter's bearded and smiling face, she remembered all the more - this was not the man she knew.
"Breakfast is the most important meal of the day," he needlessly pointed out, watching as Jen cut into her French toast and took a bite.
Her eyes were half closed as she chewed.
"My job starts at seven and ends at two, so I have to get out of here soon."
He stood to retrieve some orange juice for her. "I'm not sure what you normally have in the morning," he said, though he had an idea. Jen seemed to have a strange fascinating with Lucky Charms. There were three boxes on top of her fridge. The milk smelled like it was about to go sour though, so he made a mental checklist of items he needed to buy tonight for her.
"Oh," she murmured, stuffing a huge piece of the French toast in her mouth. "That's easy," she replied through her mouthful. "Oatmeal."
That… was not what he expected to hear. "Really?" he asked, incredulity written all over his face. "I noticed you had all those boxes of - um -"
Jen smirked after she swallowed.
"Those aren't mine, if you mean the Lucky Charms," she lightly shrugged. "Those belonged to P - Uhh… Other you." Not wanting to acknowledge the sudden awkwardness again, Jen continued talking. "I just… Never got around to throwing them out."
Peter nodded quietly. He added another item to his mental list of things to do.
"I think this is better than oatmeal, don't you?" he asked. Peter checked the clock then. One strip of bacon remained on his plate, and he moved it to Jen's. "Time to go," he announced. He felt uncomfortable at the idea of leaving her alone, but needed to work. "I'll be back in a few hours."
Rounding the table to her chair, he leaned down and placed a kiss on her forehead. "Remember, there are snacks in the fridge for you if you're hungry." He gently rubbed her belly then. "Have a good morning, Jen. Be good to mama, Baby!"
Her mouth was hanging open even after the door closed behind him. Bowing her head, she hugged herself, fighting to keep the tears at bay. It was difficult.
She regretted how much she'd second-guessed the decision to let him live there. The fears growing in her heart were slowly wilting over time. Peter's presence had brought warmth into her life, and he nearly fell over himself trying to help her. That wasn't what the problem was.
In her head she knew he wasn't the same man, but in her heart… The ache over her ex-boyfriend's death had lingered. This stranger only made things more difficult for her.
He knew he needed to get to work early in the morning, but he got out of bed even earlier to make sure that she had breakfast. He was concerned about her stomach being upset and kept looking for ways to make her feel better. He frequently rubbed her belly and spoke to the baby… Her eyes moistened, tears spilling down her cheeks then. The baby wasn't even his, but he wholeheartedly had taken over the responsibility of caring for her and her unborn child.
I don't know how the 'me' from his universe was… she sniffled. But I hope she would have treated him better… Peter deserved to receive back what he gave. She only hoped that he had such loving care at home.
Then… guilt began to gnaw at her. It was wonderful if he had a good life back home, but now he was stuck here. Trapped… at least that's how she felt.
Did he feel the same?
Minutes ticked by slowly before she was able to console herself. I need to calm down… she thought. Grimacing, she remembered what he'd told her. 'Have a good morning.' Her nose twitched a little, and she lifted her head. Reaching out, she grabbed the strip of bacon he'd placed on her plate.
It turned out to be one of the best breakfasts she'd had in a very long time.
Noon
Stretched out on the couch, cuddling Peter's pillow to her chest, Jen was propped up on pillows from her bedroom and watching television. She'd been pleasantly surprised to find all of the treats and snacks that were sitting in the fridge waiting for her. Between that and the saltines, she and her stomach had a pleasant day so
far. She yawned a little, stretching out her short legs. When she returned to work, she needed to figure out how to get a second bed in here. If not a bed, then a mattress.
It's so unfair that he sleeps on this couch. It was comfortable enough, but that wasn't the point. While she had been inconvenienced by having to share a bathroom and kitchen, she had not shared sleeping quarters with him. To be fair though, he never asked, just assumed that his spot was the couch. There's no way he can get a full night's sleep on this…
Squeezing the pillow a bit tighter, she was slowly becoming engrossed in the cooking show. The soft knock on her front door surprised her, and she climbed off the couch. Padding over to the door, she stretched up to peer through the peephole before unlocking the door - throwing it wide.
"Fancy seeing you here," Becca grinned down at her friend. "How are you feeling?"
Instead of responding, Jen stepped a short way out her apartment door and hugged her friend tightly.
"Okay, I take that as not good?" Pulling back in the hug, she studied Jen's face. "Should we talk inside?"
The petite brunette nodded, and both women stepped into the apartment. She closed and locked the door behind them.
"Tell me then," Becca began. Jen lowered her head.
"Is everything working out okay with Mister Creep?" That seemed to get a reaction, but not one she expected. Her friend seemed to be bristling at the unflattering nickname.
"Don't call him that," Defensively, Jennifer crossed her arms. She struggled with what to say and instead turned around and walked back to the couch. She repositioned her pillows and plopped herself back down into the nest. "You can… sit down if you want."
Nodding quietly, Becca walked over and sat down next to Jen. She noticed her friend was idly rubbing her belly while watching the show on the screen.
It was a very strange sight. Two weeks ago, she had absolutely no clue that her friend Jessica Smith was actually a lawyer named Jennifer, nor was there any clue of a pregnancy. Now that the 'cat' was out of the bag, Jennifer didn't need to hide, at least not from her.
She said she was a criminal defense attorney… but, Becca had some questions. If Jen was a criminal defense attorney, was it a present or prior client that she was hiding from? She remembered what Peter had stated in the hospital… that Jen was a hero.
How was that even possible? Jen didn't look like she could harm a fly, let alone be considered powerful enough to be around Spider- Man and his ilk. Wait… Becca was beginning to understand a few things. Was that why she was so upset over Spider-Man's death? That had to be the only explanation. Were they that close?
Her attention swiveled to where Jennifer's hand was resting. Realization was settling in, and Becca sunk further down in her seat… her cheeks growing warm. How was she supposed to even ask something like that ?
Is it even possible? she wondered. Before she had a chance to break through the silence, Jennifer spoke.
"I'm not sure how I am right now," she worried at her bottom lip, a pensive expression settling on her features. "Other than content and full." She glanced at Becca a bit sheepish, before looking at the screen again. "Pete left a lot of food in the fridge for us," her right hand lightly pat her belly. "And saltines."
She drew in a deep breath and exhaled heavily, sinking deeper into the pillows. "It's not… fair that he's doing all of this - only for me."
"I don't," Becca's voice came out in a croak, not at all what she expected. Her mouth had dried out at the thought that her friend and Spider-Man had… been so close. Clearing her throat a little, she rubbed her neck lightly.
"You okay, Becca?" Jennifer looked over in concern. She moved to extract herself from the warm nest again.
Becca bounced out of her seat, waving wildly. "No! No, I'm fine," she replied. She noticed the curious glint that lit up Jennifer's stare then.
"If you're sure," Jen replied. Back into the nest the smaller woman sank, not the least bit bothered.
"If I can get some water though," Becca's voice was still rough. She paid attention as Jennifer pointed her towards the kitchen, and she headed in that direction. She easily found a glass and ran it under the tap. A series of post-its stuck on the front of the fridge drew her attention.
Once she filled the glass, she shut off the tap and walked closer to the fridge. All the little messages had smilies written at the end of them. "Hey Jess - I mean Jen?" she leaned out of the kitchen and made eye contact. "Sorry about that. Where did all these notes come from?" Curiously, she noticed her friend begin to blush.
"Umm… T-They're from Pete," Jen replied, swallowing nervously. "He wanted to remind me to eat the snacks in the fridge before he came back today."
Becca's dark brows rose sharply. "What?"
"You need help remembering when to eat? Really, Jennifer?" The flush on her friend's face deepened and when she responded, it was inaudible. "I'm sorry? What was that?"
"He's just… concerned… is all. He doesn't want me to get sick or feel sick or -,"
A sudden loud rattling sound right at the front door startled both women.
"Is he supposed to be back now?" Becca asked.
Concerned, Jennifer carefully got to her feet. "No. He's not supposed to come back until around 2PM,"
As she spoke, Becca was searching through the cabinets and pulled out a heavy cast iron pan.
"At least, I didn't think he was coming back so soon." Her eyes widened as Becca stalked out of the kitchen.
"Jennifer, get the phone, in case we have to call 9-1-1," Becca slipped behind the door, waiting as the lock clicked. Prepared to go into battle, she raised the pan above her head to have enough leverage to strike. When the door opened, she let out a little grunt at the exertion and swung. The person entering the apartment dropped down into a crouch before the pan had time to connect. "I… I missed!"
It took a moment for Becca to even recognize the man who was literally stretched out on the floor.
"I'm glad you did," Peter stated, looking up at her and balancing his weight on his fingertips and toes. "I didn't know you were this upset at me, Jen," he continued, not looking at her. "I even got you more yogurt to apologize."
Jennifer stood still, holding the phone in her hands. Her eyes rounded as she instantly recognized the man stepping through the door. She hadn't been able to warn him in time. Thankfully, his reflexes saved him from a nasty head injury. "I didn't… I… Pete!"
She noticed all the bags he was dealing with and understood why he had taken so long to come in the door. "I'm… Ugh! Becca!" Her features scrunched up in displeasure.
"I brought eggs," Peter began. "I don't know if they're already scrambled now though." He heard the clang as Becca dropped the
pan.
Finally, able to shake off the shock, she rushed to him. "I am so sorry! You have to believe me. We didn't know who or what was coming through the door," She moved to help him with the bags.
"Ah… Sorry. Nice to meet you," Peter said as he stood up, extending his hand to shaek. "Peter Parker, you already know my other self. Photojournalist, painter, would be acrobat. Oh and," With this he gestured to Jennifer. "Father of her child."
He grumbled a bit. "Tried to bring back food early and nearly swatted to death." Sighing, he grudgingly accepted Becca's help to bring in the bags. Ducking back outside the apartment door, he retrieved a twenty-four case of canned ginger ale.
Once more, Becca's eyes widened. So, it's true. Peter had unknowingly answered a question she had been dealing with off and on since she'd been in the apartment today. It was no wonder that Jennifer looked so forlorn… even now.
"Pete," Jennifer responded. She was certain that her body's ability to blush had been exhausted. Nope. Not in the least. She could feel the heat suffusing her face and ears. "You didn't have to get me anything," Just you are enough. She wanted to voice her thoughts, but held back.
"You say that now, but wait until you taste dinner," he said. Peter noticed how she suddenly straightened up at those words and laughed. "I was thinking of ordering Chinese food for dinner tonight. But I don't want it to -"
"Upset my stomach," she added on. "I know. Thank you." She stepped closer to help with the bags, rolling her eyes when she was given a very light bag. "I'm a lot stronger than that, Pete."
He paused in his forward stride towards her kitchen and nodded in agreement.
"Glad it wasn't you behind that door Jen," he flashed a wink at her. "Doubt I could have dodged that."
She offered a weak smile in response as he walked into the kitchen.
"I wouldn't have flattened you, Pete." Peter leaned out of the kitchen, dramatically clutching his chest. "Honest!" She sighed softly, following him to the kitchen with Becca. "I pull my punches more often than not. You know that."
Peter resisted the urge to bring up his face, which was thankfully now bruise free, from her first slap. He was grateful that he didn't have any mark on him from her emotional breakdown earlier that morning. "Yeah… You still are one of the good guys. Even if you aren't green."
Becca quietly set one of the bags down on the counter. Her right brow rose sharply at his words. Green?
Jennifer scoffed. "Not for now," she stated pointing at her belly. "It's not safe for us."
Peter nodded quietly.
"Now then… what are we having for dinner?" He snorted.
"Becca is staying, right Becca?" Jen looked at her friend, a big smile in place.
Becca nodded. How could she say no to that? Six PM
"How do they taste?" Peter asked, balling up a dish towel in his hands. The counter and part of the floor had a light dusting of flour. The young hero hadn't been able to both clean and cook so now there was a pile of dishes in the sink. Baking brownies was messy
business, especially when you doubled up the batch. The moan that came from Jennifer, at that point, wasn't surprising. "I take it that you like them?"
Her mouth was full of double fudge brownie, so she enthusiastically nodded in response.
"They're very good," Becca supplied. She was struggling to hold back laughter at how excited Jennifer was over the brownies. "Thank you, Peter."
It was later than he would have preferred to cook. Shortly after putting everything away, he had collapsed on the couch… exhausted.
Jennifer had been upset at losing her comfortable nest, but decided to get some sleep in her bedroom. That left Becca alone in the apartment.
She sat down on the floor next to the couch and leaned against it, managing to get some shut-eye as well.
Peter decided to make brownies first because he claimed they would 'soothe the savage beast.'
Becca had not understood it then, but she was beginning to get an idea now.
Jennifer was angry when she was hungry. The smaller brunette had mentioned being hungry at least twice since Becca had been there. Each time Peter gave Jen something to hold her, but it was temporary. The brownies on the other hand - the sweet and sticky treat had slowed her down considerably.
The young man smoothly pulled the plate with the brownies away and put them in a container in the fridge. He checked in the oven for a moment. "Dinner's almost done."
Jennifer hummed in response, still dealing with her treats.
Setting a timer on his watch, he walked over to the table and sat down. "Thanks for staying for dinner," he said to Becca. "And sorry for falling asleep like that." Peter scratched the back of his neck.
"It's fine," she replied, stifled a yawn. "I'm glad I came to see how Jess - I mean Jen," she directed her gaze to Jennifer. "Sorry about that Jen."
Jennifer nodded in response - her mouth full.
"What I meant to say Peter is that I'm glad I came to see how Jen was doing. She told me you were working today, and I started getting worried."
Peter nodded in agreement at that, stretching and running his fingers through his hair.
"Yeah. The idea of leaving her alone worried me more than I wanted to admit." It had been a struggle to complete his paint job. He kept having to deal with nightmare scenarios of what could happen to her while he was gone. Fear made him work harder than he ever had, and he begged to leave the job early.
He didn't want to tell Jennifer that he'd mentioned his concerns about his 'ailing friend' to his new boss and been allowed to leave work early. He completed more than he needed to for the day, thankfully.
His first stop on his way home was the grocery store. If anyone thought that a man holding several bags of groceries on the bus was an odd sight, no one said anything. "I'm glad you checked on her," he looked at Jennifer.
She'd become withdrawn during the exchange, uncomfortable with all of the attention she was being showered with. "Don't worry," she said, absently. "I'm back at work on Monday." She didn't seem excited about that at all.
"We really miss you. We're looking forward to you coming back," Becca chimed in, noticing the mood shift in her friend. "You know that, right?" The silence was unusual for her friend, who had displayed a bubbly personality since the first day they'd met.
Quietly, Peter walked over and knelt next to Jennifer. He had hazy memories of the Jen that he knew - in a melancholy mood. They were rare, not lasting long after he delivered one of his sarcastic comments.
At the moment, Jen didn't need his wise-cracks.
Most of his memories of Jen weren't with her in this human form either. He reached over, hugging her where she sat. He expected her to tell him to leave her be, but when he felt her fingers dig into his shirt, he leaned closer. The young hero was uncertain of what he could do. "Do you want to stay here?" He asked gently. It was completely against her protests at the hospital earlier that week.
Becca stepped around the table in concern, but stopped in her tracks. What could she do to help? Instead, she remained where she stood, watching them. She had not spent much time at all around Peter and was still suspicious about him, but Jen didn't share her views.
"Yes… No," Jennifer shook her head. "I don't know." Her hold on Peter's body tightened, and she greedily inhaled his scent. She felt tears stinging her eyes. "I don't know," Worrying her bottom lip, she leaned back from the hug. "… I-I'm so sorry, Pete."
Confusion registered on his face at her words.
"I need to go back. I have to… but I don't want to," she shook her head. "Not to that place." She swallowed hard. "I can't stand it, at all Peter."
She lowered her eyes. "I feel so vulnerable there… And weak," She bit into her bottom lip hard, shaking. "I'm so helpless, and can't…
I…" Her voice was beginning to crack.
Once again, the web-slinger found himself struggling to help Jennifer work through an emotional upheaval. In his mind's eye, he could see himself trying to steer a boat by controlling the direction of the sails. Her moods were more unpredictable than he'd ever seen. Although… he thought, wryly. She's also more pregnant than I've ever seen before .
"If I do that, it'll put more pressure on you," she sounded strained. "You're… suffering… here already, and I don't want to add to it."
Brown bushy brows rose at her words. Rising to stand, Peter carefully pulled Jennifer out of her seat and slowly led her to sit on the couch. "Becca," he looked over at the perplexed young woman. "Please turn down the burners."
Feeling out of place, Becca cleared her throat. "I'll just watch the food to make sure it's done on time, yeah?" Not waiting for a response, she only saw a glimpse of gratitude in his eyes before she disappeared into the kitchen.
Now that they were on the couch, Peter tried to make eye-contact with Jen.
She was leaning forward, resting her head in her hands.
"Jen," Peter spoke softly, resting his right hand on her lower back. He slowly began to move his hand in soothing circles on her back. "I'm not sure what you mean."
He leaned down, trying to peek at her through her fingers, but she turned her head away. "I'm not suffering at all… Not unless you're referring to," he allowed his words to trail off, hoping to draw a response out of her. He slowly got a glimpse of one wet eye. "The yogurt perhaps?" Or my chips. He knew the things hadn't eaten themselves. He wasn't upset at her about food.
"You're stuck on the couch," Jennifer offered at first.
"Well, last night, it was the floor," he remarked. He noticed her flinch, but pressed on. "And my back felt great this morning!"
"I keep getting up at night, and it wakes you up," she countered.
Peter shrugged. "You didn't throw up this morning," he wiggled his brows then. "I slept like a rock."
She laughed weakly. "So did I," sighing, she looked away again. "You don't belong here." She frowned. "I know you're stuck here with me because of that. I am so sorry, Peter."
"That… was not your fault at all. I'm not 'stuck' or trapped here either," his voice implored her to understand. "I told you I was going to help you and the baby. That's what I plan to do."
Jennifer sadly shook her head. "How?" She asked, her voice gaining strength. "How can you care for a child that's not your own so easily?! The Peter I know didn't even want this baby! He… H-He wanted me to," Her face was already flushed, and she put a hand over her mouth.
She didn't dare say anything more. She couldn't! She didn't want to remember just how vehement her ex-boyfriend had been over 'ridding' himself of his own child.
Stung at her words, Peter leaned away from her then. "I… am not him," he pinched his brow, trying to calm himself down now. Getting angry with her wouldn't solve any problems - only make new ones. "I wouldn't just leave you and the baby like that Jen and you know it!"
The lack of physical contact bothered her immensely, and suddenly angry, she lashed out at him. "You say it now, Peter… But you'll leave soon enough too," her tone of voice was cryptic - resigned even. "Men always claim they'll stay… You know it's not the truth. You wouldn't like raising someone else's…" she trailed off, burying her face in her hands again.
Wordlessly, Peter got off the couch. Looking down at Jennifer then, his lips thinned into a line. Shaking his head and running fingers through his hair, he turned away from her and walked straight to the front door.
Hearing the lock disengage, Jennifer looked up. Peter glanced back at her once before walking out the door and closing it behind himself. The brunette sat stock still on the couch - not believing what she was seeing. He was really doing exactly what she'd said he would… What she had driven him to do.
"Jennifer?" Becca asked quietly, stepping further away from the kitchen. She'd been unable to ignore the exchange, peering around the corner - only to see Peter walk out the front door.
"He… left," Jen responded to her friend. "I… I-I told him he'd just leave me and… He did." Her eyes welled up with tears. "It's just like what he did before…" The anger rolling to the surface finally boiled over.
"They always leave!" she screamed, slamming her fist into the coffee table. She didn't even register the sound as the wooden table split right down the center, both halves crashing to the floor. "Why!? Why do they do this?!"
Becca's eyes widened and grew round like that of an owl. She pressed back against the wall. Just what was happening now?! She had doubted before when Peter called her friend a 'hero.' Now she was beginning to wonder just what Jennifer's abilities were.
Minutes ticked by slowly as the smaller woman struggled to contain her fury. She was upset and so angry. Her own words were coming back to bite her. If Peter never came back, she wouldn't blame him. This is my fault… She recognized with remorse. I ran him off… She was beginning to feel ill now, her rage slowly beginning to wear off. I
ran off my Peter too… And everyone else. Jennifer knew she'd been suffering with feelings of guilt and frustration ever since she'd had to abandon her previous post.
She was vulnerable now. So far… the only person that she'd lashed out at in months had to be - of course - Peter Parker. The near doppelganger of her deceased ex.
Her stomach felt as if it was trying to turn over and she slowly rose from the couch, holding her belly. Jen was hunched over a little, an expression of discomfort on her tear-streaked face.
"Jennifer?" Becca asked, still pressed against the wall. She quieted again as her friend shook her head and headed towards the bathroom. After the door clicked closed, Becca released a breath she didn't know she was holding. Her nose twitched then, smelling something from the kitchen. Darting back into the room, she worried that the food might have begun to burn.
E 18 th Street, Turning to Avenue H
Kicking cans always made things feel better. Seeing one, he gave it a light kick with his right foot. Repeating it with his left, he worked to keep the aluminum can right between his feet. Peter let out a long sigh, staring at the ground directly underfoot as he walked. He felt bad for stepping outside, but figured both of them needed a breather. He wasn't going to lie and claim that her words hadn't hurt .
The true gravity of what he'd gotten himself into was just fully settling in. Not only was he dealing with guilt and depression over all he'd left behind… but now he was struggling with a new feeling of loss. He knew that he had bonded with the baby.
The budding affection had been slight, but he liked the idea of helping to raise the child. Jen was right though… No matter how he felt about the baby, it wasn't his . She was carrying the child of her ex. Her deceased former lover. Not him. He lifted his eyes a little as he walked, kicking the can more.
Even that motion made him think of what the future held for him. If he stayed here, life would be tricky… true. It wasn't safe for Jen if he resumed his previous activity as a superhero. Life in general was going to be a lot harder for them. She was trying to lay low - for reasons that she hadn't disclosed yet.
Were he a betting man, he would assume it had something to do with the pregnancy.
Did I make it harder for you here Jenny? He stopped for a moment, staring at the night sky. Inhaling deeply, he tucked his hands into his pockets. What would you be doing if I wasn't here?
He knew she had been overworking herself and not eating properly. It was why she'd passed out.
Something she said that first night had tugged fiercely at a part of him he thought had died. She told me if she went to sleep that she would wake… and I'd be gone . Would she have ended up in the hospital that night if she hadn't been so upset at the sight of him?
Would she have been worse off? He thought so. It had been a struggle to help her when she repeatedly threw up meals. Her morning sickness hadn't been labeled as severe enough that she needed medication on a regular basis to treat. Were it up to him, she would have received the meds. He didn't have that much say in her care though. He did make sure that she had her vitamins daily, had even been buying things to help her delicate stomach. After they got him moved in, her drugs from the hospital had worn off. Everything had been so touch and go.
Her diet likely has a big impact on all of this… Squeezing his eyes shut, he continued walking. She liked sweets… in copious amounts. He'd never seen her consume so much sugar in a single sitting. Did Jen watch what she ate when we worked together? He wasn't sure.
Eventually, he meandered far enough that he spotted a sign. He squinted to read it. 'Collins Park. Established 1975.' Intrigued, he walked into the park. He hadn't known this place was here. Then again, he'd never been to this part of the country before either. Does Jen even know this is here?
His long legs ate up the distance fast as he found himself investigating the park from end to end. He easily found the baseball diamond and various picnic tables. He kept exploring. Eventually, he stumbled on a playground. It was close to the entry point he'd passed. How had he missed that?
Swallowing thickly, he blinked rapidly. He tried very hard not to imagine a little girl - that looked so much like Jen… just exploring. No matter his wishes, he saw himself helping her climb up to get on the slide and then rushing to the other end to catch her as she slid down.
Walking over to the slide, he sat down on the ground next to it. He felt assorted woodchips digging into his backside but didn't care. Why can't I get this out of my head?
That image he'd seen in the hospital… on the ultrasound. He felt himself smiling faintly even as his emotions were in turmoil. He'd seen small hands on the screen… a tiny foot. He remembered the feel of Jen squeezing his hand. He found a chance to help her. He saw - a renewed sense of purpose. "There's nothing for me back home," he acknowledged with a grimace. Things were far different now than they'd been.
He thought again of the Knotts, MJ, and Stasie.
Peter wasn't certain how long he'd sat there, but he began feeling stiff. Standing, he brushed the dirt off himself as best he could and headed home. Home… He thought. Nothing was certain right now. His daily life was uncertain… But did he feel like he was going home? His lips curled up at the corners. No stability at all. Will likely have more disagreements in the future.
He had a mission now. His smile faltered just a little. I need to do something to apologize for leaving like that.
Thankfully, he knew what Jen's weakness was. Jen's Apartment
Becca sat quietly on the bed next to Jen as her friend slept. She'd begun to wring her hands as she noticed the time on the clock. There was a strong possibility that she'd have to spend the night.
Earlier, she'd found Jennifer bent over the sink in the bathroom, retching. Her friend was clinging to the counter, trying not to lose her balance. Jen had vomited all over the place, even in the tub. How that happened, Becca wasn't going to try to figure out. Waiting several minutes after Jennifer seemed done, she helped her friend
get into bed. She'd left her alone only to clean up the bathroom and get a glass of water.
Jennifer had gratefully accepted the glass, holding it against her forehead first. "So cool," she mumbled. She only taken a few tentative sips before lying down again. "You c'n go home, Rebecca," Jennifer told her. "I'll b'fine."
Instead, Becca had insisted she could stay until Peter returned.
Now though, she was wondering just when he would be back. Oh well… She thought, frowning at the volume of Jen's snoring. How can he sleep through that?! Then, she blushed. She wasn't exactly sure what the nature of their relationship was. Although Jen had mentioned him sleeping on the couch earlier. Carefully nudging Jen into a better sleeping position, she was relieved when the snoring stopped immediately.
Hearing the door unlock, Becca almost jumped for joy.
"Jen?" Peter called. He was holding a small plastic bag in his left hand.
The living room was dimly lit by a single lamp. Becca stepped out of Jen's room. "She's in here," she spoke softly. "She's sleeping right
now, so don't wake her up, please."
Locating the second lamp, Peter switched it on. "Already?" He checked his watch. "It's barely past 9pm," Then, he paused… staring at the coffee table - which was split in two. "Umm…?" He pointed to it with his free hand.
"Jen." Becca gave as means of explanation. "She was furious when you left and… well," she shrugged. What explanation did she have other than that?
Peter's eyes widened - comically so. "She didn't change g - umm. She didn't change colors, did she?"
Becca blinked rapidly, peering up at him. "Why on earth would she do that?"
Peter averted his gaze immediately. "I'll chuck this up into the freezer then." Lifting the small bag, he walked to the kitchen.
"What did you get?"
Instead of responding, Peter exhaled sharply and pulled open the freezer. He could hear a choking sound behind him but chose to ignore it. With a bit of wrangling, he was able to stuff the box of Nestle's Crunch Ice Cream Bars into the freezer and completely close the door. When he turned around, he was greeted with Becca's incredulous stare.
"You like the sweet stuff, I take it?"
Smiling faintly, he shook his head. "No. None of it is mine," He discarded the plastic bag and walked towards Jen's room. "Not unless she wants to share."
Sitting next to Jen on the bed, Peter carefully felt her forehead for signs of fever. "Feels a little warm," he spoke softly. He lifted his head and looked at Becca. "She was really tired, huh?"
"She got pretty sick too," Becca pulled a face when Peter whipped around to look at her. "It was all over the place, even the bathtub."
Peter opened his mouth to say something, but a husky voice stopped him.
"So loud," Jennifer mumbled. She inhaled deeply through her nose, picking up his distinct smell. "Pete…"
He could feel her fingers grab onto part of his shirt. "Yes… I'm back. I'm going to get something to help your stomach."
Instead of letting go, her grip tightened, brows furrowing together. "H-Hey!" He tried to scoot away. "Jen, I have to get up to -"
"No," she whimpered. "Don't leave." She tugged on his shirt. "I'm sorry…" Her eyes were half open. "So sorry."
Turning a little, he looked at Becca. "Can you get me some of the saltines in the cabinet over the sink? And one of the cans of soda I brought in?"
Becca nodded and left the room.
Redirecting his attention to Jennifer, he carefully worked her fingers free of his shirt. "It's okay. There's no need," he began. Peter didn't want them to rehash it.
Big brown eyes locked with his. "I just want you to feel better."
"This," she straightened up where she lay, slowly rolling to her back. "It's scary."
Internally, Peter sighed. He did not want her to get upset again. Reaching over, he pulled back the blanket she was under. He carefully tugged up her shirt and gently began rubbing her belly. "Shh," he spoke, trying to soothe her before the discussion went any further.
Her eyes began drooping a little. "Feel better, Jen."
Trying to focus blearily on him, Jennifer partially lifted a brow. "No fair," she managed, being cut off half way by a deep yawn. "Found my weak spot." His hand was so warm . The rhythmic stimulation on her abdomen was lulling her back to sleep.
"Ha!" Peter said, softly. "I knew I'd find it eventually, my friend." She was nearly purring when Becca quietly reentered the room.
"Pfft," Jennifer replied. "It figures, web h-head. I get a little soft in the middle…"
"I got what you asked for," Becca spoke up.
Peter accepted the crackers and soda carefully, setting them on Jen's night table. Then, he returned to his ministrations.
"Thanks. I'm going to let you out shortly," his voice held amusement. "Just as soon as I put Jenny here to bed."
"Paaaarker," Jen yawned again; her words drawn out. "You can't jus…" Her eyes were already closing.
"Annd… Sleep," Peter struggled to hold back a laugh as his petite friend proceeded to do just that. Soon thereafter, he heard soft snores. Gingerly, he pulled a blanket back over her and got off the bed. Then he reached over and turned off her bedside lamp.
Looking to Becca, he put a finger to his lips, gesturing for them to head out the bedroom. After they both left, Peter quietly closed the door behind himself. "Okay. I'm going to let you out of here. Thanks so much for waiting up for me."
"No problem," Becca replied. "The food is in containers in the fridge." She gave him a side-eyed glare. "Why did you feel the need to cook so much?!"
Coughing faintly, Peter scratched behind his head. "Jenny always has a big appetite. Don't let her size fool you." Grinning all the same, he escorted Becca to the front door and let her out. Locking the door behind her, he sighed and walked over to the couch to set up his bed for the night. After a few days, he was beginning to remember where Jen stored her things. Locating a fresh bedsheet and a new pillowcase, he set them down and walked into the bathroom with his backpack.
When he heard Jen was sick, he was expecting to find some indication… but the bathroom looked cleaner than before he left.
He dug out a very oversized t-shirt to sleep in and stripped down to his boxers and socks. I suppose I should take advantage and get an early night too. Locating his toothbrush, he began to clean his mouth out. Once he was done, he returned to the couch and sunk down into the cushions.
Three Hours Later
He hadn't been asleep long… maybe a few hours when he felt himself being shaken awake.
"Are you asleep?"
The question shouldn't have bothered him, but it did. Instead of replying, he burrowed deeper into his sheets… only to nearly be hauled off the couch. "Uhh! I'm up!" Halfway hanging off the couch, he looked up at Jennifer. "What's wrong, Jen?"
She looked embarrassed, her cheeks reddening in patches. "Jen?"
"Umm… Can you do me a favor?" She fidgeted, looking away from him.
Holding down a sigh, he nodded. "Sure. What's up?"
"I woke up and… A-And I don't feel," she paused, placing a hand over her eyes. "I don't feel comfortable alone. Can you join me please?"
"What are you asking exactly?" He watched as Jen drew in a deep breath and appeared to be counting under her breath. "I'm sorry?"
"Please, Pete. I need you." the trembling in her voice was easy to distinguish.
His brows rose at that. "Please sleep with me." To Be Continued…
Author's Note: Thank you so much for sticking around. I hope you enjoyed! Suggestions, comments or feedback? I welcome it all! I really love constructive criticism. If anyone wants to be a beta for me (because I really need one), feel free to PM me about it. Be aware though that my chapters are massive.
On A Personal Note: I'll be on hiatus for a bit to get myself back in working order mentally. I shouldn't be gone longer than a few weeks. It's become increasingly frustrating to get the chapters for "Navigating The Curve" hammered out and then fully edited. I want to get all of it done in a day, but that's not in line with reality.
I'm also working on "Open Arms", which is more canon-esque and therefore twice as frustrating to pen properly. I've been posting weekly on that one and every two weeks on "Navigating The Curve", and I got overwhelmed.
I have no problem with the creation phase of the chapters, but the editing can be a bummer. Especially with no help.
I'll be back soon though. I already have part of chapter 6 done, unedited of course.
Be well, and I'll see you when I get back!
XXO ~J. Lyst
Additional Note: This chapter has been updated and revised from a previous version on February 4, 2023.
Reasons: Continuity issues, typos, missing words, etc. Probably still missed some.
Additional: I still have the originals, since I always make copies of copies of… you get the gist.
Another Additional Note To The Priors: This is part of a mass-edit being done with NtC that was inspired (sort of) by NanoWrimo 2023.
Whew!