Chapter Text
The evening was cold. People moving along the streets nearby walked briskly, wrapping their coats and scarves tighter around themselves as they thought about what they were going to do when they got home. Their minds couldn’t help but wander back to the events of the past week, though. Something had shifted with the world; darker, more sombre, somehow. But they would move on. If there’s anything humans can do, it’s pretend that the bad things never happened.
Peter sighed as he leant his head against the front door of his home. He knew Aunt May was within the apartment- usually she’d be dancing in the kitchen, singing obnoxiously and cooking terrible food. But she’d sounded worried sick when he called her to say that he was safe and okay. Peter dreaded the moment when he would have to tell her what went on- he planned to put it off for as long as he could. For now, he just really hoped he could calm her down a little. She stressed too much! Well, this time it was warranted, but that was beside the point.
He let himself into the house.
May was sitting near the couch on the chair angled slightly towards the entrance. “Hey, Aunt M-“
“Peter!” she cut him off, rising out of her seat quickly and making her way over to him. She threw her arms around him and he hugged her back, burying his face into her. He felt the tears welling in his eyes. God, he was so glad to be there with her, both of them alive and close.
She let go of him and looked at him, checking over him for bruises or scrapes or worse. His suit had been checked over by Mr Stark already, had been repaired and cleaned. Over his suit he wore a hoodie and track pants. Peter’s fast accelerated healing had taken care of most of the battle damage anyway- his Aunt really had no chance of seeing the physical damage that had been done to him. And the emotional damage? It didn’t matter. Peter didn’t want to put her through even more than what he had already.
May analysed his face, trying to gauge how he was. Peter hurriedly wiped the tears away and smiled. “I’m okay! We’re okay, Aunt May, you don’t have to be worried!”
“Oh, honey,” she smiled sadly, “I always have to be worried.”
Peter kept silent, not denying it.
There was a silence then as they moved and sat on the couch together. They basked in each other’s presence, enjoying the comfort and calm of the moment. Peter vaguely felt like he was in a dream. He hadn’t known if he was ever going to be able to sit in his home with Aunt May ever again. Yet here he was, having survived his trip to space and… everything after that.
“Peter,” May said eventually, “I don’t know much about what happened out there. I don’t know what any of that was like for you. But, honey, I’m here.”
“I know, I know, I know. You’ve always been there, May. I know that,” Peter said.
She seemed a little relieved at hearing that, but not quite at ease. She knew how Peter was.
“We haven’t- we still haven’t talked about any of this. When I saw you in your costume-"
“Suit,” Peter corrected meaningfully.
She rolled her eyes. “When I saw you in your suit, we never talked about it properly afterwards. And now… all of this.”
He could tell that she was thinking about Thanos and all he had done. The kind of things Peter had to face and fight. The world had been thrown into absolute chaos and Peter had been at the centre of it, battling the threats head-on, as a mere teenager amongst the most skilled soldiers in the world. It was going to be hard to convince May that he was okay.
“Can we talk more, Peter? I just want you to let me know what’s going on. You don’t have to tell me everything. Just…something. Please.” Her voice was pleading but firm. It hurt him to hear how upset she was.
“Of course. Yeah, yeah, I’ll talk more, I will,” Peter agreed easily.
But he didn’t know how he would.
He didn’t want to think about what happened; the painful and scary feeling of dying was still crawling through him. No matter how hard he tried, he just couldn’t shake off the memory of Thanos, or Mr Stark’s face. No, he didn’t know how he’d explain that to Aunt May. He wanted her to forget that what he did was dangerous, and he wanted to get on with being the friendly neighbour Spider-Man again. There were so many people to help, people that he could save from hurting! The war with Thanos was over, he shouldn’t be so affected by it. He should already be back out there!
May must have detected some of the weariness on his face because hers softened. “We can talk tomorrow. Get some rest, honey, sleep for as long as you need. School can wait a while.”
Peter immediately protested, “But, May! I’m great, really. After a little sleep tonight, I’ll be ready to go to school tomorrow. Please?”
She sighed, accepting that Peter was always going to be too willing to throw himself into things. May figured it was best to let him do regular stuff like school, perhaps to help him feel normal. Well, as normal as a kid with spider abilities could feel.
“Alright then. If you still want to in the morning, you can go to school.”
“Yes!” he grinned, punching a fist in the air, “Goodnight, Aunt May! I love you.”
She watched him as he walked to his bedroom. In his clear fatigue he bumped into a chair and fell over before quickly getting up again, his face reddened from embarrassment.
She laughed. “Goodnight, Peter. Get some sleep.”
He did not get any sleep.
He did try, at first. The nightmares came on too rapidly though, waking him up in a hot sweat. Peter had ignored the flurry of images from his nightmare recollections, the same images that his own two eyes had seen from those horrifying moments on Titan. Instead of reliving more of it he had instead opted to research what had happened within Queens during the time he was away.
Chaos is what happened. It never failed to surprise him how even when the world was dying, there were always those few who preyed on the situation by stealing from others in their weak moments. They always stole; whether it be money, objects, lives, whatever. They took what didn’t belong to them and Peter would never understand it.
“Hey Karen, how was Queens while I was away? Did anyone miss me?” Peter mused thoughtlessly, dangling from his bed.
“If you’re referring to crime, you were dearly missed, Peter. Shall I show you the statistics?”
“Oh! Uh, yes please.”
Peter blinked a few times at the tables and graphs on the hologram screens in front of him. Crime rates had gone up by thirty-seven percent? He thought maybe twenty. Twenty-five would be pushing it majorly. But thirty-seven percent? Missing their local superhero was bad enough but apparently the world going to hell really inspired people to put more hell into it.
He rubbed the dark parts under his eyes tiredly. He had so much to do. Of course he wanted to help. But sometimes Peter just felt so overwhelmed and he honestly didn’t know how he could do it all. But he’d find a way! Just like he always had. He had Ned to talk to. And he personally knew Tony Stark and had met most of the Avengers, which would be forever cool. Aunt May was the best and he could not be more thankful for having her.
He wasn’t alone. He never had been, not really. Peter just wished he didn’t feel alone.
“Could you please show me the most affected areas from crime, Karen?”
“Here are the most affected areas.” She said, as calm as ever.
“Thanks!”
Peter scrolled along the display in front of him, leaning in to scour the maps. He soon came to the conclusion that it was, in fact, the parts of the city he expected. The worst areas of Queens. The places with a higher frequency in crime. Peter was quite familiar with these spots.
The spider-boy, with tousled brown locks and brown eyes with dark shadows, slid back into his sheets. He was still too warm but wanted the comfort and familiarity of his own bed. The blue hologram screen remained on, illuminating the room. He stared at the maps, going through tactics and methods of how to efficiently lower the crime rate again. Patrols were going to have to be longer than they used to be, and maybe even more often. Gosh, he really was going to have to talk to May…
Peter closed his eyes and allowed himself to slowly drift away from consciousness.