Chapter Text
The cup of coffee remained untouched on the table beside her, probably cold by now. May didn’t care. For the past thirty minutes or so, all she had done was scroll up her text history with Peter for the day.
She couldn’t even keep count of how many texts she’d sent that day, asking where he was, if he was okay, if he was safe . And that wasn’t even counting how many times she tried calling, too. There hadn’t been much she could do otherwise aside from waiting.
The school had called Ben early in the afternoon to let him know Peter ran from the school, after injuring a classmate, which didn’t sound right. None of it even remotely sounded like something Peter would do. It had to be a misunderstanding.
When Ben first told her what had happened at school, she told him they shouldn’t start freaking out. Maybe Peter was avoiding their texts and calls because he was afraid of what they would say or do. He would show up, then they could have a proper talk and clear everything up.
It made enough sense when he said it, hours ago, when there had only been an hour or so with no news from Peter.
Now, almost the full day had gone by, and still nothing.
Time to freak out.
To make matters worse, Ben had also stopped replying to her. She was absolutely going to kill them both the second she got home.
“May?” Her co-worker, Eileen, barged into the break room, “Someone just came in, we’ll need help operating! Are you free?” She asked.
May glanced at her clock. Technically, she still had ten minutes left in her break, but she was never one to hold herself to that. Also, she wouldn’t be much help with Peter’s situation in ten minutes, especially now that Ben wasn’t replying either.
She nodded and followed Eileen to the operating room.
“What’s the situation?” She asked as they hurried through the corridors.
“Male, early forties. Critical gunshot wound.” The nurse replied. “Dr. Carter can give us more details.”
May nodded. They weren’t strangers to gunshot wounds at this point. In the past couple of months, there wasn’t a week that went by without someone needing surgery because of one.
“Right, then. Let’s go!”
1 HOUR EARLIER
I wasn’t sure where I was going.
I just kept listening to the echoes of my feet hitting the floor as I kept walking, trying to see through the tears that couldn’t seem to stop swelling up my eyes.
I had nowhere to go.
Going home was out of the question. I couldn’t. I couldn’t face Ben after what I said.
I was angry. I didn’t think . And by the time I finally did, it was too late. The words were already out there and there was nothing I could do to take them back.
Ben was my father. Of course, he was. He had been there forever, he was the only parental figure that stuck long enough for me to even remember. How could I ever think otherwise for even a second?
I finally stopped walking to take a breath and put my thoughts in order. I leaned against a wall and tried to wipe away the tears. It wasn’t very effective.
I could barely even see through them, but I needed to pull myself together. And, most importantly, I needed to decide what to do. I couldn’t wander around Queens for the whole night.
I looked around me. The street was dark and deserted, the perfect combination to make me freak out. This time, though, I didn’t mind. Maybe knowing I could defend myself in case someone tried anything helped. But mostly I was relieved that no one was around to see me crying like a baby.
I pulled out my phone and opened my text chain with Ned, groaning when I saw the amount of texts he’d been sending since early in the afternoon.
(8:47 PM) Peter: Hey, man. srr for disappearing
(8:47 PM) Peter: I’m ok. Promise
(8:48 PM) Ned: DUDE!!! omg what happened to u????
(8:48 PM) Ned: everyone was looking for u, even ur aunt called me
(8:48 PM) Ned: is everything ok??
I was about to reply when the screen on my phone changed to Ben’s picture. He was trying to call me.
No. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t talk to him. I ignored the call, letting it go to voicemail. I’d talk to him tomorrow. I’d apologize, tell him I didn’t mean it, the whole thing. I just couldn’t do it tonight. There was no way I could look him in the eyes.
(8:49 PM) Peter: everythings fine dw
(8:50 PM) Peter: can i sleep over at ur place??
(8:50 PM) Peter: i promise i’ll explain everything
(8:51 PM) Ned: sure. i’ll tell my mom ur coming
(8:51 PM) Ned: u should tell may and ben tho
(8:51 PM) Ned: they were rlly worried
(8:52 PM) Peter: yeah i know
(8:52 PM) Peter: i’m omw
I put my phone away, letting out a sigh in relief.
So, this was better. I had a plan, kind of. I’d spend the night at Ned’s, go to school tomorrow and face whatever they had in store for me for what I did to Flash, then go home and apologize, a lot. And surely face some more consequences for everything else, too.
I nodded to myself and let go of the wall, starting to walk towards Ned’s. His place was just a few blocks away, I’d be there in twenty minutes.
Behind me, I heard a group nearby, walking not that far from me, on the other side of the street. They didn’t seem like much of a threat. They were just a bunch of kids, probably not that much older than me.
They were acting like idiots, though, clearly drunk. They were making jokes and pushing each other around, laughing as if they were the funniest guys in the world.
I’m no expert in humor, but I could say for sure that they absolutely weren’t.
I ignored them and kept walking, though every second they got more and more on my nerves. I just hoped they’d follow their own way eventually, but, of course, I’m not that lucky. It wasn’t long before one of them noticed me.
One of them pointed at me and whispered to his friends, sure that I couldn’t hear what he was saying.
“Dude, look!” He laughed, “Guy’s all alone, we should go mess with him.”
The rest giggled and pushed each other across the street. I didn’t even need superpowers to hear that. Those guys weren’t subtle at all.
I started walking faster. I knew I could defend myself if I needed to, and that was comforting, but in the end of the day, those kids were nothing more than bullies. And old Peter was still terrified of them.
Of course, they noticed, which started a fit of laughing from them. They started running towards me.
I didn’t have time to react before one of them grabbed me from behind and turned me around towards his friends.
“Hey, let me go!” I said, knowing very well it was the stupidest thing to say.
“Sure, man!” The guy said, tossing me on the floor.
I was starting to get up when another one kicked me in the leg. I’m pretty sure he was aiming for my ribs and missed, but it didn’t make it hurt any less.
So much for being able to defend myself. I managed to get up as they were still laughing.
I tried walking past them, but one of them pushed me back, and I stumbled backward. I pushed him too, only he lost his balance and fell on his back.
“Hey, dude, that wasn–” One of them started, but I turned around and punched him square in the face.
Now, I had never thrown a punch before. Don’t ask me how I did it, but somehow I got it right. He fell back, too, his nose bleeding.
“Goddamn freak,” The third one commented, but he didn’t try to bother me. They seemed to have gotten the message: piss off.
They started walking away, one of them hitting his shoulder against mine on the way. I ignored it as I felt my phone buzz.
It was a text from Ned saying his mom prepared some food, but that wasn’t what I focused on. There was a large crack across the screen that definitely hadn’t been there before. My phone had been in the pocket on the leg Drunk Idiot #2 had kicked.
“You broke my phone!” I said, not necessarily angry.
Honestly, I’m not one to care about it much. It was just a crack on the screen. It just very clearly was a terrible day to be Peter Parker.
Excluding the superpowers, I guess.
Still, it wasn’t like I could afford to fix it, let alone getting a new one if something else turned out to be wrong.
“Whatever, freak! It ain’t our problem.” Drunk Idiot #2 called, walking with his group, now ahead of me.
I ignored him. Hopefully, that meant they would leave me alone now.
Just to be safe, I made a point to stay as far from them as I could.
“Hey, team, thank you so much for cooperating,” Dr. Carter said, walking into the operating room. The patient would be there any second, but she liked giving everyone a motivational speech before every surgery. Weird idea, considering the state of most patients that ended up on her table. “I know many of you were on your breaks or ready to leave, so appreciate that you’re here.”
As usual, everyone was only half paying attention, most of their effort was focused on getting the room and equipment prepared. No one had time to stop.
“Do we know anything about the patient, doc?” One of the other nurses, Rupert, asked.
“Yes, we do!” Carter replied, looking down at the file in her hands. “Let’s see, 44-year-old male, gunshot wound to his stomach, near his liver. Critical condition. He was found by his nephew just a few minutes ago, a few blocks from his apartment complex in Forest Hills.”
May’s stomach dropped. Nephew, Forest Hills–
No. No, of course not.
It was a coincidence.
It had to be.
“May? May, are you okay?” Eileen asked. A second later, something seemed to click, because she looked at the doctor and then back to May as if connecting the dots. “Oh– I-I’m sure it’s not Ben, okay? A lot of people live in Forest Hills.”
May ignored her and walked towards Carter. Her knees felt like jello, every step seemed to pull her further away from the doctor rather than closer.
She had to know.
“Linda? Do you--” She started, feeling her throat closing up. “Do you know his name? The patient’s name?” She asked.
The doctor looked a bit distracted but looked down at her file to check. She raised her eyebrows as she read the name, then looked back to May, an apologetic look on her face.
She didn’t need to say it, but May didn’t need her to. Somehow, she knew what was coming. She knew whose name the doctor was about to read out loud. She took the file from the doctor’s hands and looked at it for herself.
Right there at the top, May could read the name clear as day: Benjamin Franklin Parker.
It all happened really fast.
It took me a moment to realize the commotion going on up ahead of me, and a couple more seconds for my brain to fully process it.
The Drunk Idiots had stopped walking, and moved on to yell at some random guy standing in front of them.
The first thing that I noticed about the guy was a big, ugly scar above his right eye. That angry look in his eye coupled with the low light coming from the post above them made him look even scarier. He was angrily pointing his finger at the children and yelled back.
“Everything you got! Right now, or I swear I’ll blow your brains out!”
Wait, what? That didn’t sound right. I thought the Drunk Idiots had stopped to mess with him like they did to me, but that wasn’t what was going on. It wasn’t his finger the guy pointed at the group– it was a gun .
Instinctively, I took a step back. Ben and May always told me to run the other way if I ever saw something like this happening, and I was about to do exactly that, but something stopped me.
Those were instructions for weak, skinny Peter Parker. That Peter Parker would surely be hopeless against a mugger. But I wasn’t weak, skinny Peter Parker anymore. I could do something. I could face him, potentially stop him, too!
Before I could make up my mind, the guy bolted in my direction, probably having gotten whatever he wanted from those guys– their phones, wallets, or whatever.
Now was my turn.
I made the mistake of looking behind him. Running right behind the mugger was Drunk Idiot #2, desperately trying to catch up with Big, Ugly Scar Man.
“Stop him!” He called, I noticed, looking directly at me.
That was when I got angry. That guy came to bother me, tried to beat me up and broke my phone! Why should I help him? He surely wouldn’t if the roles were reversed.
I stepped aside, letting Big, Ugly Scar Man run right past me.
“Thanks, kid!” The man said as he passed, starting to run faster now that there were no obstacles in his way.
Drunk Idiot #2 caught up to me, massaging his chest as he struggled to catch his breath.
“What the hell, man?! You could’ve stopped him, why didn’t you?!” He asked.
I shrugged in response. “It ain’t my problem!”
The guy cursed and headed back to his group, leaving me with a satisfied smile on my face.
Barely a minute later, I heard a gunshot.
May wasn’t sure how long it had been. Long enough for the tea cup resting on the table in front of her to have gone cold, certainly.
She couldn’t even remember who had made it for her. Everything after she left the operating room was just a blur.
Linda had advised her to sit this one out seeing as the patient in critical condition was her husband. For once, May was happy to do so. Just the thought of Ben laying on the operating table was too much to handle, she would be useless trying to operate on him too.
So she just sat there, numb, staring at nothing, hoping someone, anyone would walk in to tell her her husband was okay, that he would live. But she’d operated on patients with wounds similar to his. She knew what the odds were and she didn’t like them one bit.
No , she told herself. She had to be strong, she had to believe Ben would make it out of this. For herself, for their family, for Peter.
Oh, God, Peter ! Ben had been found by his nephew, which meant Peter had to be here somewhere. She got up in a jump, and bolted to the waiting room.
I wasn’t sure why I ran in the direction the gunshot came from. All logic told me it was the most stupid thing to do.
But logic wasn’t in charge now. That horrible feeling at the pit of my stomach was. Someone could be hurt. That was all I cared about.
Maybe the shooter would still be there, and then… what? I’d fight them? I never even threw a punch my whole life. All that confidence I had when Scar Man ran towards me was gone now.
I knew I found the place when I saw a few people gathering around a figure on the floor. One of them had their phone out, and was discussing with the others whether they should call an ambulance, which seemed like a waste of time. The person was clearly hurt, they needed medical help as soon as possible.
I slowly approached the group, and when I looked down at the body, my stomach dropped.
For a moment, I couldn’t believe my eyes. It couldn’t be. Surely this was my mind playing tricks on me. It wasn’t right, Ben couldn’t be…
“Peter…” He called when he saw me.
I collapsed onto my knees next to him, my mind working a thousand miles per hour. I had to do something. I didn’t know what, but I couldn’t just sit there and watch my uncle die, there had to be something I could do to help!
Put pressure on the wound. That was one thing I could remember from every movie and tv show I ever watched. that was good, right? Stop the bleeding until help got here. Yes. That was a good idea.
I took off my jacket and pressed it to the wound. It wasn’t much. Ben still seemed to get paler by the second, but I didn’t know what else to do.
“Ben! Ben, I’m so sorry, I—” I started, but the words didn’t seem to find their way out of my mouth. Even if they did, what the hell could I even say?
“Kid, do you know him?” The lady with the phone asked. “Should I ca–”
“Call an ambulance!” I all but screamed at her, “P-Please, he- he needs help!”
She didn’t hesitate before pressing 911 and calling in.
May scanned the waiting room looking for her nephew. It was far less busy than usual today, but the look of desperation in most of people’s faces was the same as every other day.
Today, May was one of them, too. Desperate, restless, waiting for news of a loved one who could not make it out of the hospital alive.
It took her a moment to find Peter. He was sitting in a corner with his head down and arms wrapped around himself.
She couldn’t even bring herself to be mad at him for disappearing all day. He was here now, safe , and that was all that mattered. They had much bigger issues at hand.
She ran over to him. Peter saw her approach, and made no objections when May wrapped him in her arms.
With a skip of her heart, she realized Peter’s hands were covered in blood. Ben’s blood, she realized. It took everything in her not to break down right then.
Peter needed her right now. She had to be there for him until they knew for sure what was happening. And, likely, after they knew for sure what was happening, too.
She shook those thoughts out of her head. Ben would be fine. He had to. May didn’t know what she would do if something happened to him.
She wasn’t sure how much time had gone by as she and Peter sat in the waiting room. It could have been minutes or it could have been hours before Linda approached them. May took a moment to remember it was them she was coming to talk to. Her heart started beating faster in her chest once she did.
“W-Where is Ben?” Peter asked, standing up from his seat. “H-He’s okay, right?”
Linda shot a look at May, and she didn’t have to say anything. May knew that expression on her face– the one that she had seen other doctors wear and had worn herself as she was about to break the bad news to the family.
May’s brain shut down, her ears refused to process what Linda was saying. She knew the script. She knew what happened.
They did all that they could, but Ben hadn’t made it. Oh, how many times had she been the one to say those words? How many times she had to watch, powerless, as the family slowly came to the realization that their loved one was gone.
It was her turn now.
Peter sank back into his seat, covering his face with his hands.
May wanted to scream, to cry, to drag Linda back into that operating room and tell her to do more , to figure out something , to bring her husband back.
She knew it was pointless, though. There was nothing Linda, or anyone, could do to help Ben.
She looked at Peter. The boy had lost so much already. First his parents, now Ben. Not only that, he had been the one to find Ben, bleeding on the street. That couldn’t be easy on him. She needed to get him home.
“I’ll… leave you two alone, for now,” Linda said, “May, if you need anything-”
“I know,” May replied, just barely holding a sob. “I know. Thank you, Linda.”
The doctor nodded and left the room.
May wrapped her arms around Peter again, who leaned into the touch just as easily as earlier.
Her and Peter weren’t blood relatives. Ben was Richard’s brother. May just married into the family. Of course, that never mattered before, and it sure as hell wouldn’t now, if she had anything to say about it. She and Ben had raised that boy, and she’d continue to do so until he was old enough to live his own life.
And, right now, he needed her. Just as much as she needed him. She didn’t know how, but they’d make it through this. They had to.
“T-The last… last thing I said to him, I-” Peter started, between his sobs, “He… was trying to tell me something important. I should’ve listened, I should–”
“Shh, Peter, it’s okay,” She tried assuring him. This wasn’t the time for that, and it wouldn’t do Peter much good to dwell on it, either.
May barely noticed it when a couple of police officers approached them.
“Excuse me,” One of them started, “Are you the Parkers?”
May looked up at them, her mind slowly trying to catch up to reality. She nodded.
“We’re really sorry,” He continued, “But we need to ask Mr. Parker here a few questions regarding what happened earlier tonight.”
May wanted to argue. Peter had just been through a lot , they couldn’t expect him to talk after that. He was just a boy. What he needed was to go home, process everything. He shouldn’t have to do this now.
But she didn’t.
She couldn’t even process the exact words she wanted to say. Her brain was still too numb from the news, she doubted she could form a cohesive sentence if she tried.
So, instead, Peter untangled himself from her arms and wiped his tears. This wasn’t fair. He shouldn’t have to do this right now.
But May didn’t stop him. She couldn’t. And, even if she could, didn’t she also want to know what happened? Know who had shot her husband, if what Peter had to say could get them there.
So, then, Peter talked. He didn’t have much to say. He hadn’t seen anything before he found Ben, on the floor, bleeding.
Thankfully, the officers didn’t push much past that. Soon enough, they gave their condolences and started to go away.
“Oh, uhh, another thing,” One of them said, turning back to her and Peter. “A witness saw a man walking away from the crime scene. We’ve managed to get a drawn portrait of him,” He pulled a piece of paper from his jacket and held it out to them. Peter was the one to take it. “Blonde hair, big scar above his eye. We have teams already looking for him. We’ll be in touch as soon as we’ve got anything.”
May nodded, mustering as much of a smile as she could. “Thank you, officer.”
The man offered them a sorrowful smile and walked away.
May sighed. It was pointless to stay here for much longer. Things wouldn’t change the longer they stayed. And, honestly, she didn’t think she could stay, either. She needed to get home, get some sleep, if she could. She was sure Peter could use it too.
“Hey,” She took Peter’s hand, “Why don’t we go home? You must be tired.”
Peter didn’t reply.
That was when May actually looked at him. Peter still had the drawn portrait of Ben’s potential killer in his shaky hands, and stared at it, the tears swelling up his eyes again.