They’d discharged me. It hadn’t take long, only about four days. The nurse had said something about me being lucky and that I healed fast. I couldn’t remember, but I hadn’t exactly paid much attention to. I hadn’t paid much attention to anything. It was weird. Like everything in my mind was on pause. No, that wasn’t right, it was closer to being on auto pilot or standby. Still no. I just couldn’t explain it. All I know is I hadn’t felt like this for Uncle Ben. Maybe because I’d been younger, less understanding. The thought didn’t do anything to appease the guilt it made me feel.
I breathed deeply, releasing my thoughts and glanced at MJ. She looked as flawless as always, but her normal focus and determination was gone. Instead, she looked tired, though the three empty coffee cups in her car door didn’t exactly make that a difficult conclusion. If I’d known, I wouldn’t have let her do this. She’d taken the day off just to take me home. Probably to give herself a little bit of a break too, but it just seemed like it was stressing her out more. She glanced at me and I averted my eyes quickly. If she caught me looking, she might think I was worried. I was, but I didn’t want her to say anything. The conversation would just devolve into something we both didn’t want it to become, though she probably knew that.
I shifted in my seat, wincing slightly. The harsh blaring of horns and car engines sounded distant behind the closed windows. Or maybe it’s just the fact that I’m so wrapped up in my thoughts. I squinted and adjusted my glasses, before letting out a sigh. I took them off and slipped them into my pocket. The nurse said my eyes were fine, but it’s weird that my vision was just suddenly… better? Maybe the explosion knocked something in my eye lose. The nurse hadn’t bothered to do an eye test after all. I’d need to go see Dr Clancy.
“You okay Pete?” MJ said. Resisting a sigh, I nodded. I guess she didn’t realise I didn’t want to talk.
“Is that a yes?” she asked, her tone playful.
“Yeah” I replied, annoyed. There’s a beat of silence. “Sorry. I’m being rude” I said.
“It’s fine. You can be as rude as you want” she replied, her voice filled with pity.
“No, I- I… you’re taking the time to pick me up and I just… sorry” I mumbled.
“It’s ok Pete” she said. I didn’t reply. My foot throbbed dully, as the car came to a stop. The noise from the traffic intensifies for a second before dying down. I glanced at MJ again. She looks even more tired than she did a few seconds ago. I need to say something.
“How… uh… are you doing? Ok?” I asked awkwardly.
“Yeah I’m-“ her voice cracked, betraying her emotions. She went silent for a few seconds. I didn’t speak, unsure of what to say.
“Sorry… I just… the past few days have been tough” she said, her voice barely louder than a whisper.
“It’s okay” I replied, not sure what else to say. Harry was always great in situations like these. I wish I had even half his social capability. It would at least make moments like this easier.
“Thanks” she said, “for asking how I’m doing. Because of this mess I’ve been around home a lot and my Dad just…”
She went silent. Everyone in the neighbourhood knew how her dad was. He was the considered the neighbourhood drunk at the best of times.
“It’s okay” I repeated.
“Thanks” she said again, her voice raw. We carried on driving in silence, before I frowned, looking around.
“Uh MJ, I think you missed a turn” I said.
“I’m taking you home Pete” she responded.
“Wait back to Aunt May’s? You don’t n-“
“Pete stop. I’m taking you home, no if’s, but’s, or maybes” she said. I went silent, before feeling a bubble of annoyance rise in my chest. She was treating me like I child again.
“I’m not a kid MJ” I replied. “Take me to my apartment”
“No. Aunt May’s worried sick. It’s best if you stay with her so she can take care of you“
“I don’t need her to take care of me”
“Well she needs it”
I went silent. MJ was right. Aunt May did need the peace of mind. I was being stupid. Dammit, why was I so against it in the first place? It’s not like I hadn’t been dreaming about Aunt May’s homemade food regularly. It was probably the situation. I wanted to be alone. To deal with this alone. It’s bring back all the wrong memories if I grieved in my childhood home. May would dote on me and we’d probably spend our time looking through photo albums and watching films together all day. It’d be Uncle Ben all over again. And I didn’t want that. But not spending now with May because of a selfish reason like that? I’d regret it forever.
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“Sorry” I mumbled.
“It’s okay Pete” MJ replied.
-
I got out the car and stared up at the house. It looked as old as I remembered, though I had visited a few months ago. The light in the living room was on and the blinds were drawn. Aunt May was probably waiting with food on the table. I felt the corners of my mouth pull up into a smile before the bruises on my face took away the joy. I winced, stepping around the car and onto the sidewalk. MJ waited for me to head up the steps first, so I did, coming to a stop and pressing the doorbell.
Aunt May opened the door and pulled me into a hug, before pulling away and kissing me on the forehead. I couldn’t help but smile at the sudden rush of nostalgia, as I stepped past, pulling my shoes off. May hugged MJ as she stepped inside and then closed the door behind her.
“I’ve got dinner on the table when your ready” she said with a warm smile.
“Thanks” I said, putting my shoes on the rack. I made my way through the hall, scanning over the photos on the walls. They were filled with memories, and a particularly painful picture of me, Gwen, Uncle Ben and MJ. Aunt May had taken that one. I remembered the day we’d taken it. We’d gone to the zoo for my twelfth birthday. It’d been fun. I remember playing the fact game with Gwen at each exhibit and being scared of the lions to the point that I’d decided to skip the exhibit. I felt my smile fade. It had been the summer before MJ had started high school, the year Uncle Ben had died. I came to a stop staring at Gwen’s face in the photo. What other memories about her were locked deep within the depths of my mind? What little details had I forgotten about her? Maybe looking through the photo albums wouldn’t be so bad.
I felt a tap on my shoulder.
“Peter?” Aunt May said, a note of concern in her voice.
“Sorry” I said forcing a smile. “Let’s eat, I’m hungry”
-
Dinner had been good. Aunt May’s famous chicken pot pie. The three of us had sat down and eaten together, smiling and making jokes around the table. The warm and comforting atmosphere had been bittersweet. When it got late MJ had gone next door. Aunt May had offered her the guest room, but MJ had come up with some excuse. Something about promising to do something for her Dad while she was around. I didn’t understand why she cared about him so much, but I guess he was still her father. I felt like I should’ve said something, but I hadn’t. I never did.
I sighed and rolled over, my bed creaking under me. My arms and legs throbbed dully, while my chest protested with every breath. The memories of the explosion still feel unreal, like a faded nightmare that won’t get out of my head. But the pain’s real, so the memories must be. It meant I knew more than anyone else. Knowing what had happened made it even worse. I’d seen it up close and personal. From what I’d seen on the news during my stay there had been a ton of speculation before the Norman Osborne had held a press conference to confirm that there had been a negative energy explosion. The news stations had reported on it for hours, it had been international news. I mean it was about the possibility a new type of powerful bomb being discovered. Hopefully nobody figured out exactly what had happened for a while. We didn’t need anymore weapons of mass destruction.
I sighed. And then there’d been all the news coverage of the big fight. That had been televised more than something that bad usually would be, because all the media had already been there. Twenty one people had died. 144 had been seriously injured. I didn’t know exactly what had happened, I’d only seen the same two videos that were plastered all over the internet. The first was shaky handheld footage of Spiderman and the monsterized Dr Gonzales a girl had posted on social media A video of Spiderman saving people before disappearing.
There wasn’t anything else of the fight, only eye-witness accounts of people who’d been nearby. But there was plenty of footage of the damage. The bugle hadn’t hesitated to use it to condemn Spiderman ignoring the footage of him saving people. I’d had the footage on repeat, unsure of what to do. Did I tell everyone the monster had been Dr Gonzales? But how would I explain it? Would I have to tell the world that Lucas was Spiderman? It was better to not risk it. He was only a kid. If the bugle found out his identity, they’d ruin his life. If I did have to explain what happened at the BRC, they might even pin the blame of the explosion on him too. I couldn’t let that happen.
I sighed. I was getting too worked up about this. Or maybe I was forcing it, thinking about all this to distract myself. If I was it wasn’t working. No matter how much I try to think about anything else, I can’t stop picturing Gwen’s face. I sat up, wincing slightly. It’s late. 01:37. I can’t believe I stayed up that long, just thinking. I need to sleep, but I know I can’t. I swung my legs off the side of the bed, frowning as I stared at the floor. The photo albums were in the basement. I know I shouldn’t, that this probably wouldn’t make things better, but it might, and God I needed to feel better. Plus, if I cried, I didn’t want it to be when I was looking through them with May.
I stood up, my bed creaking as I eased off of it. I crept to the door and opened it, slipping into the hall. I tiptoed across the landing, avoiding all the creaky floorboards and then slowly made my way down the stairs. Everything seemed so loud when you were trying to be quiet. I reached the bottom and walked through the downstairs hall slowly, peering at some of the pictures in the dim moonlight. I finally reached the basement door and pushed it open, the hinges creaking slightly. I stepped inside and closed it behind me, making my way down the wooden steps. I searched blindly for the light and pulled at the string, the bulb flickering on.
It was as dusty as I remembered. Some of the boxes had moved, ones with my name on the sides. I felt a small smile form on my face, before I spotted boxes with ‘BEN’ written on the sides, and it quickly faded. I scanned the boxes quickly, memorising their locations so I could put everything back where it had been. I looked around through the boxes with my name, carefully flicking through old clothes, the occasional Beyblade, a colouring book, and overachiever medals from elementary. I paused and lifted out a leather covered booklet. On the front it read ‘PETER: 2008-2009’. I would’ve been seven or eight in these photos. I opened it quickly and started flicking through, a rush of memories coming back to me. Pictures of May and I planting seeds in the garden, me and Ned both dressed up as Might for Halloween, Uncle Ben teaching me how to ride a bike. There were so many memories. I paused as I came across the first photo of Gwen. It was the two of us, both dressed up as Might for Halloween. I continued flicking through. Another one of us at the beach, another of us getting first and third place in a science competition. I felt my hands start to tremble. There were so many photos of her. I paused on a picture of us at her birthday, all smiles. The moment felt so far away, but so close at the same time. A droplet of water thudded onto the picture followed quickly by a few more. My body shook with sobs as I clutched the album to my chest hugging it tightly.
I sat there for a while, even after the tears stopped. And then I put everything back, turned off the light and headed back up to bed as quietly as I could.