[ i’m tempted to purge this account and start fresh, new url and everything. ]
[ I’m not entirely sure if I should come back to this or not since I’ve been gone so long but I miss you guys if that counts ]
Peter started to answer, to acknowledge the fact that this person had either done their research or they really were him, but his throat seized up and he coughed, trying to swallow. After a moment of recovery, he simply nodded. “So come on home, Peter. You’re my hero, and I love you,” he finished softly, his voice cracking slightly. “Shit. It looks like you’re me,” he said, ignoring the sting in his eyes and the hitch in his throat that caused his voice to rasp as he spoke. His tongue felt too thick for words. “I probably c-could’ve picked better subject matter for that particular test. Sorry about that. Didn’t mean to.”
Well, here gome the water works. He understood why his apparent doppleganger had asked that, it was something he hadn’t even shared with Aunt May. Peter, any version of Peter that had gotten that voicemail, was the only person who had heard it. He kept that thought in mind as he cleared his throat. He could cry over it later, if he still needed to. “Yeah, no. It’s fine.” He cleared it again to eliminate the crack that happened. “It’s fine. It was the first that came to mind, and it was a hell of a test. Glad I passed with flying colors.” As glad as he could be with the grey cloud above them now.
” You think I’m kidding.. “
"Well, it’s not like you don’t have a sense of humor."
“I've never used the word twerp before, and I thoroughly do not plan on starting the usage on you.” Okay, slightly annoying on the high end, but she wasn’t going to let that bother her… too much.
"I’m taking that was a compliment, Ms. Romanoff." Whether or not it was meant as one. Probably not, seeing as his ability to push buttons was tenfold on her.
` you must really hold
yourself back, huh? ’ but of
course, she’s only teasing.
she knows how smart peter
has seen his
brilliance with her own two
‘ a might be. depends who’s
asking really. ’
"I try my best to."
If he wanted to, he could match hear easily,
but he definitely doubted he could outmatch her.
"Oh, no one, really."
❝ Alright— What is it you’re having trouble with? ❞
"Uh…everything we learned this week?"
|☢| —- “I would, but then I’d just have more left overs. We can just go for whatever else.” Gwen replied, pausing for a moment. “Hey, don’t you laugh at me!”
Of course, as soon as she told him not to, he was laughing even harder. Not enough to make him double over, not yet. He pulled himself together enough to talk. “What are you feeling?”
“There is no need for another bunch, Peter.” She laughed lightly, not a fan of gifts; for this one was fine enough and actions spoke more brightly than those bought. “Who were they originally for? What happened to your plans?”
"If you say so." He wouldn’t mind surprising her, but he had the thought that she wasn’t that type of person. He shrugged again at the questions. "I was going to dinner with…a friend. Thought I’d surprise them. Didn’t really work out." He tried to keep his voice light, for his own sake.
How quickly he went from being elated to utterly devastated.
The wound ebbs, raw, and he’s crumpled upon the floor after his tantrum. He doesn’t even know what time it is when he finally peels himself off, the anger and disappointment sitting upon his shoulder. He’s never felt the impending doom come to such a dead end, and he cannot believe this is the ‘legacy’, the only things his father left him with. This is a cruel reality he never wanted to face; why not let him live blissfully in Europe until he crumples into nothingness? He does not know if it is despair or hope that Norman bestowed upon him. Despair, despair, despair. It echoes in his mind as he pulls himself together, and goes to the only place that feels remotely like —- ‘home.’
The walk passes him by so quickly, and he’s there before he knows it. Standing before the familiar door, he knows; and he’s got half the mind to wonder if Peter Parker still resides in the very same house from ten years ago. Too late, as he hears the footsteps and he’s faced by—
It’s amazing how quickly his facade falls and his smile is probably a mixture of happiness and absolute pain when she welcomes him like he’s never left for a minute.
The rest of the night gets him all comfortable and warmed to the point where he almost forgets what brought this whole fiasco on, and he’s left aglow in the warm lights of the living room, curled up on a sofa because Aunt May insisted he stay the night, since Peter was still missing in action. ‘Busy boy,' she mentions, a genuine smile as she leaves him for the evening, going up the stairs.
”Where are you?”
”Do you have a double life that I need to know about?”
He’s not sure long he’s laid there until he runs out of steam, and his phone runs out of battery. Dozed off, it’s only then his shoulders slack and his face isn’t full of spite and pent up disgruntlement.
Who knows what the actual time on the clock is, as his eyes are blurry when he’s finally roused awake by the sound of someone walking around, and he can’t help but laugh when he sees Peter there, looming over him with all his gangly limbs and height. How things have changed yet not at all.
“Took you long enough.”
It was a bit cloudy when he heard that Harry was back in town. Ten years, and all he wanted to do was go up to the heir, hug him, make sure that this wasn’t some dream, and maybe get back into the swing of things again. But ten years. There was no way they’d be able to get past that. No. He was better keeping his distance, maybe stopping in to say hi after bring Gwen back from lunch next week or something. Probably not. Harry probably didn’t wanna see him after coming back. Peter wouldn’t be surprised if he’d been forgotten. It’d only be fitting.
He got into the swing of things - literally - around two, taking a bit of time to avoid OsCorp and it’s building as much as possible. Even if something happened there, he wouldn’t be needed. Hardly anyone there would wanna see the red and blue spandex. He wanted to keep it in once piece.
Over the afternoon, his phone kept going off. Not the set of buzzes that belonged to Aunt May or Gwen. He could ignore them. The city was more important than whoever they were.
His patrol lasted until the evening,stopping car robberies, assisting a bank robbery, and even helping a few old citizens across the street (not exactly something he’d planned on doing as Spider-Man, but hey, gotta help when you can). He didn’t want to be out so late. He hated having May worry about him. She hadn’t called all night, and there were still things to do in the city. Sure, it filled him with guilt on the walk home, just not enough to make him create a curfew for himself.
He had pulled out his phone on the way, glancing to see who had decided to contact him earlier. Seeing Harry’s name on the screen made his heart beat a little strangely. Not that it was out of the blue for that. No, that was very normal. What wasn’t normal was the messages hinting at something Peter felt like he should have known. He made a mental note to reply later as he walked into his house.
He wasn’t expecting Harry to be asleep on his couch. That must have been…yeah, okay. He could see that. It stunned him just enough that he stayed there, unwavering, seeming like a slight weirdo for watching someone sleeping, and didn’t react until Harry spoke.
"Got caught in traffic," he laughed. "Did you eat already?"