Chapter Text
Peter stared aimlessly at the wall in front of him. Just two hours ago, he had been talking to May. She had been alive, sickly, but alive. She had been smiling. She had held his hands and listened to him talk about the activities they had done in class that day.
Now, the last image that he’ll have of his aunt is the sight of her hand falling limp from his as lights glared into his eyes from every angle in the room and sounds blared from the machines that were hooked up to her. He remembers being torn away from her and being pushed outside where a nurse held him tightly and tried to whisper reassurances in his ears. Peter couldn’t listen to her though, he was too busy listening as hard as he could to the sounds within the room he was pushed out of. He knew all too well what the long, high-pitched, continuous beep meant. He couldn’t believe that May had left him as well. Not even when the doctors came out to tell him the news that he already knew. He refused to believe it.
Clenching his fists, he felt another tear slip down his face as he was waiting in the lobby on the fifth floor of this hospital. He had one of the nurses sitting with him, patting his knee occasionally and trying to talk to him. It felt like he wasn’t in his body. He could occasionally feel the pats of the nurse’s hand, could hear the words of reassurance if he wanted to, but it felt like he couldn’t move, and his lungs felt like blocks of ice. His head was pounding, and his eyes ached. He felt numb, emotionally.
He saw two bodies stand in front of him with his peripheral vision, but his gaze never moved from the position it was locked in. A throat cleared once and then again. Peter reluctantly moved his gaze from the wall to the pair in from of him. They were wearing business suits, all tidied up with no scuff marks on their shiny black shoes. Peter felt a deep amount of resentment shift in his soul. He hated these men just from their attire. Why do they get to look so good and in perfect health while May had to suffer and pass on? It wasn’t fair.
“Peter Parker?” One of them questioned. Peter nodded slightly, unclenching his hands to clasp them together.
“We’re from Child Protective Services. We’re sorry to hear about your aunt. Do you have any one who can pick you up and take legal responsibility for you?”
Peter shook his head with his lip wobbling. Ben was dead. His parents were dead. May was the only adult that he had left in his life. The pair of partners looked at each other before one of them stepped away, taking out their cell phone.
“How old are you, Peter?”
“Thirteen.” He whispered, clenching his jaw. He would be turning fourteen in a month and it just hurt to be reminded that May wasn’t going to be there on his next birthday.
“Wow, you’re getting so old.” Peter threw a slightly annoyed glance up at the man. He knows that he was just trying to make small talk, but he wasn’t five. He said nothing in response to the man. They waited in awkward silence until the man’s partner returned.
The person that returned looked at the other and nodded. Looking at Peter, he slightly smiled. “C’mon, kid. We have a place for you to stay.”
“But…Aunt May…” He said, confusion creeping into his eyes.
“We’ll take care of everything, Peter. Don’t worry. We have a family that is willing to take you in and to foster you for the undetermined future. They’re a really nice couple and they’re fostering three other kids as well. We think this will be the best place for you to settle into for the time being. We’ll take care of the paperwork and you shouldn’t have to sign anything, but you still might be seeing us a few times over the next couple of months.” A hand was guiding him through the lobby and into an elevator.
His entire life was being decided for him. His last string of family was torn from him and now his life was being decided for him by strangers. Strangers who he didn’t even know the name of. Was he going to continue to go to the same school? Would he have to start all over in a new place with a new name and a new family? He couldn’t breathe.
The elevator dinged, and the doors opened into a full lobby of sick kids and worried parents, all waiting to be seen. Peter’s heart clenched painfully. What he would give to have that kind of life; a mother and a father, affection and love coming from the people who birthed you. Peter clenched his jaw again and sniffed back the emotions that were clogging up his throat and nostrils. The hand on his shoulder led him out of the hospital and into the parking lot that was brimming full of cars and ambulances. He walked down the flight of stairs with his body feeling like he was floating on air. His head wasn’t attached to his shoulders and his hands were barely hanging on by stitches. He was led to a black car with four doors and gently pushed to sit down in the backseat. Once seated, he just stared into nothing. His head hung down as if he was looking at the floor, but he was taking in nothing.
He heard the engine start and felt the car start to move.
“Peter? Where’d you live? We need to get some of your things before we head to your new house.”
Peter’s throat tightened but somehow, he was able to get the address out in a decently loud voice. His heart seemed to get heavy with every passing second and his stomach started hurting as he noticed they were getting closer and closer to his apartment. His head started spinning when the car parked right next to his apartment. The man in the front in the driver seat turned to look at Peter.
“Do you want to go up and grab some stuff, kid? We can get it if you want us to.”
Peter gulped. “I-I can do it. Can I have a few minutes?” He asked in a small voice, gripping the seat beneath him with shaking and sweaty hands. The men nodded.
He got out of the car clumsily and slowly made his way to his apartment. His old apartment. He made his way up the stairwell and eventually was staring at the door that led to his life. He pulled out the key that was in his pocket and unlocked the door, pushing the door open. He was met with the aroma of cinnamon and caramel, two scents that May always had flowing throughout the place. She wanted it to smell homey and welcome, which the two scents always brought her.
With his eye-sight getting more blurrier by the second, he sharply inhaled and dragged his feet to his room. He turned in a slow circle once he got in bedroom, taking it in for one last time. He was never going to go to bed in this room again. He was never gonna wake up to May’s pancakes on Sunday mornings, he was never going to hear her frustration when she had to get him up for school. He was going to lose everything that he knew and everything that was associated with May. He was barely aware of that fact that he had fallen to his knees, his head was pressed deeply into his bed with his hands fisting themselves into the duvet. He didn’t hear himself, but loud, sorrowful cries were escaping him. The air that he was trying to breathe was getting caught in his throat and catching right near his lungs, getting stuck and frozen there. He started gasping and his hands went up to pull at his hair. Too much, too much, too much.
Squeezing his eyes shut tightly, he brought his hands down to wipe at his eyes roughly before he stood up. Breathing in and out harshly, he walked over to his closet and pulled out a duffel bag. He started blindly throwing in clothes, not even pulling them off the hangers. Once everything was pulled off the rack, he went over to his dresser and randomly threw his socks, underwear, and jeans on top of the other items. He pulled out his only suitcase and opened it, shoving in shoes, books, a Lego set. He kept the suitcase opened and made his way to the bathroom.
His heart was still pounding out of his chest and tears were streaming down his face, but it felt like the longer he stayed in this apartment, the more it felt like he was gonna die. He wanted to die. He wanted to be with May. He didn’t want to be alone in this world.
He opened up the door and shut his eyes tightly, seeing May’s perfume and hairbrush on the counter. He grabbed his essentials; toothbrush, hairbrush, shampoo, body wash, deodorant, and other things. He brought the gathered items and threw them in his suitcase before making his way to the room at the far end of the hall.
Briefly hesitating outside of May’s door, he pushed the door open and he refused to look at the bed with its unkept covers strewn about and crinkled sheets covering the mattress. He went to the closet and opened it, keeping his head down as tears streamed profusely down his face. He opened up the box on the floor of the closet, the box that he knew held pictures of his late family. He couldn’t bring them all but he grabbed the stack of lose photographs before shutting the box and putting it back. He froze in the doorframe of May’s room and internally whispered goodbye to that room before tracking back to his room. He grabbed a few picture frames that were hanging on the wall, not wanting to lose those memories either. He put the items in his hands in the suitcase. Shaking, he zipped up the suitcase and set it upright on the floor. He looked around his room before deciding to grab his fleece blanket (which had a Star Wars design on it) and his lone stuffed animal (a ratty, old and dull puppy that was missing an ear). He unzipped the duffel bag and stuffed the blanket into the bag and zipped it back up. He threw the duffel over his shoulder and grabbed his suitcase with his free hand, the hand that wasn’t clenching the stuffed animal.
Peter didn’t care that he might be too old to have a stuffed animal, it was comfort for him and it was item that he had had since he was about one years old. It linked him to his family and he needed it right now.
He walked slowly through the apartment, taking it in one last time. He stared through his blurry vision at the kitchen, envisioning May standing at the stove and cooking breakfast like she did every day. He still felt the ghost of her kiss on his forehead that she left there that morning. Biting his lip, he opened the door and exited the apartment, feeling like a certain coldness had just drifted over and into him. He shut the door and locked it even though that didn’t really matter anymore since no one else was going to live there. He stared at the shut door before leaning his head against the wood and letting a small, deep sob out. It felt so wrong leaving, he didn’t want to leave. He whispered a wet goodbye to the empty apartment before walking away from the door.
It felt so wrong.
He moved blindly down the stairs until he was back on the ground level. He barely even knew he was moving until he was at the back of the car and the truck was open. He lifeless threw his suitcase and duffel in the trunk, keeping his stuffed animal in his hand. He numbly opened the back door and sat down, mindlessly putting on his seatbelt. He leaned his head down and pushed his face into his stuffed animal, letting his tears drip into the fur.
“The Brown family actually lives right here in Queens, so you’ll be able to still attend the same school and not have to lose everything familiar to you. That’ll be great, yeah?” One of the men in the front told Peter, trying to make small talk. Peter didn’t respond, just clenched his eyes tighter and bit his lip harder as he choked down a sob. It would be great if he was in his own bed with the sound of the living room TV echoing down the hallway as he heard May laughing at whatever was playing on TV.
Numbly, Peter came back to his senses as he felt a hand on his shoulder which was leading him down a hallway. His face felt raw and his eyes were swollen. His cheeks were damp. He heard the sound of his suitcase rolling behind him and he heard the swing of his duffel bag. His hand was still clenched around the stuffed animal. He was held to a stop in front of a brown, wooden door. It was opened, and Peter saw an empty, lifeless room that held a twin bed, a dresser, and a desk. He felt the hand pat his back and heard his duffel bag and suitcase get sat on the floor. He heard the door close.
He looked at the lifeless room and he couldn’t contain his sobs this time. Everything was changing too fast. He knelt down on the floor and curled around his stuffed animal. Nothing was okay. It felt like his whole world was ending and he wanted to just disappear.
Why was life so cruel to him? What did he do?
He ached for the hold of his aunt. Instead he was met with the hold of the cold that had enveloped him earlier that night.