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Edge of the Bed (1/?)
Summary: Peter Parker and his aunt move into a new apartment for silence and closure, only instead to make an unusual friend.
A/N: This story will not fully correspond to the plot of Homecoming, nor will it stay parallel to Murder House. It’s more like the pre-events to HC and small portions of MH.
Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader
Warnings: Spoilers, swear, blood
Aunt May walked into the newly furnished apartment, carrying a small parcel tight to her chest, Peter trailed closely behind. While May had a small smile on her face, admiring the fresh trinkets and bobbles, her glasses were fogged; the happiness didn’t reach her glossed over eyes. Peter, on the other hand, was sulking in pity and despair, mourn settled in the creases beneath his eyes.
May walked up to the island in the center of the kitchen, and set down the box. She removed the lid carefully, and reached inside. She pulled gently on the tissue paper and her fingers grazed the inside. Peter walked around the island, looking around the room with a new perspective. He heard the crumple of the thin paper and glanced at the old, slightly crumbling frame May held in her fumbling hands. She set it on the marble island and looked at the picture captured between the glass. Peter walked to her side and looked over her shoulder.
It was a relatively antique frame with intricate weaving patterns, made of a dirty bronze, copper and gold. Blotches of black and rust were spotted between the folds and strands, and the corners were dented from age and use. Inside was an old polaroid of Aunt May and Uncle Ben’s wedding. They stood between a priest, holding hands and smiling like children.
Peter put his hand on Aunt May’s shoulder and she wiped away a few tears from beneath her glasses. She shook her head and turned around to face Peter.
“Hey, I should be the one comforting you.”
She chuckled slightly, and Peter forced a grin to his face.
“Anyways, the boxes are in your room, which is right… There. Text me if you need anything else, I’m gonna go for a walk around the neighborhood.”
May gave Peter a firm hug then grabbed her phone and left the apartment. When the door slammed, Peter took off to his room. He looked through the boxes littering the floor for his suit. Once he found the red and blue spandex material, he turned on his phone and called Ned.
“So Aunt May quite literally took the advice to just get up and move?”
“Yeah! I mean, I know why, it makes sense, but I would wanna wait maybe another month or two. Ya know, settle down more.”
“You can’t really blame her, Peter. Her husband was murdered… Sorry.”
Peter grumbled in response, pulling the suit up his torso.
“I’m just grateful that Aunt May kept you at Midtown.”
“Actually, she’s pulling me in a few weeks.”
“What? This move isn’t making things better, only worse!”
“Feel free to try and tell her that. I have, and she’s sturdy on the idea. But at least I’m just a train ride away from the Bronx!”
“That’s too far, Peter. I need you here to help me with Flash! You and I both know MJ won’t do shit.”
“I’m always a call away, and a few minutes with my webbing.”
“What will the Bronx do without Spider-Man?”
“I have to protect two towns now, Ned. The Bronx and here. Speaking of which, I’m gonna go swing around the town. Talk later!”
“Don’t get killed.”
Peter laughed as he pulled the mask over his head, listening to Ned hang up the call. He grabbed the phone, tripped over the scattered floor and got to the window. Opening the glass, he sat on the ledge and jumped off.
It was 8:22 when Peter finally finished his journey around the town. He memorized every street name, business, and subway station in the whole area. He even calculated the exact time it took him to get from his apartment to the Bronx. It was when Peter was on the top of a local bar, watching small fights break out that he realized Aunt May should be getting home.
As he swung through the streets, seeing the familiar apartment complex, his phone rang. Peter stopped at his window and climbed in. He pulled his mask up over his nose and answered the call.
“Hey, Aunt May. What’s up?”
“Hey Peter, I just wanted to tell you that I found this little thai place on the corner of Thatcher and Crescent. So I stopped in and grabbed our usual. I know it’ll be nothing like the place in Bronx, but it’s something. I’ll be home in 10, okay?”
“Alright, Aunt May that sounds amaAaZiNgGg-I need to call you back, love you!”
“Peter, what’s wr-”
Peter hung up on May and threw his phone to the floor. He pulled down his mask and began sauntering cautiously towards the shadow sitting on his bed. The figure got up from the edge and began walking towards Peter. Suddenly, he couldn’t move and was stuck in place.
“What-what are you do-o-ing in my ro-room?”
The figure laughed lightly.
“If you’re trying to kill yourself, you should try locking the door, Spider-Man. Peter.”
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