Chapter Text
Foggy hated getting late night phone calls because it was always Matt and if Matt was calling him this late at night, it wasn’t for something good.
They bought more minutes for his McBurner phone since he cracked the screen of his actual phone during a fight. Foggy had investigated the prepaid throwaway phone to see who Matt was finally calling with it. There was only one number he ever called and Foggy recognized the last four as Claire’s number. He never even bothered to program her contact into it, so he took it upon himself to, putting her name in as ‘Hottie McBurnerphone.’
He looked at the number flashing across the screen, expecting Matt’s burner phone contact photo to light it up. It wasn’t. It was Valerie, his cousin. That confused and alarmed him because if Valerie was calling him at – he glanced over at the clock on the stove from where he sat at the dining room table – 1:17 in the morning, it was probably an emergency of some sort. He grabbed his phone from where it sat next to his open laptop and answered it.
“Hello?” He said. “Valerie?”
“Oh, fuck,” Valerie said, clearly out of breath. “Thank God you’re awake.”
Something dropped in Foggy’s middle. He started to rise from the dining room table, pushing the chair across the hardwood with a loud, obnoxious squeal that he hoped didn’t wake the neighbors.
“Everything alright?” He asked.
“Well, yes,” she said, “but also no. I have a huge favor to ask.”
“What’s going on?”
“My friend called me from jail.” Ah. So, this was legal trouble. He relaxed, leaning against a dining chair. “She got arrested and she really needs a lawyer. Like, right now .”
“Why was she arrested?”
“She was protesting.” Okay, that wasn’t that bad. Probably arrested for loitering or something by a cop just trying to be annoying. In and out. He might even be able to handle it before Matt gets home from his nightly galavanting around the city fighting bad guys.
“...and she punched a cop.”
Well, fuck.
“And she already has a record. Sort of. Mostly protesting and little stuff like that. But, she has this kid and–,” Valerie was sounding panicked now.
“Hey,” he cut her off before she could work herself up. “I got it. What precinct is she at?”
“The fifteenth.”
Foggy silently fist-pumped. “I’ll take care of it.”
“Thank you, Foggy,” Valerie breathed. “Thank you.”
Foggy hung up and sighed at his phone. At least it wasn’t Matt smeared on the side of a building somewhere. He headed toward his and Matt’s bedroom to change out of his pajamas, glancing at the stove clock again on his way past.
He still may beat Matt home.
Matt was following a girl. Based on the sharp medicinal smell and polyester of her uniform, he assumed that she was a nurse who had just gotten off of shift and was walking home. What she didn’t know was that she was being followed by a group of men that were making explicit remarks about her. A group of men that were all armed with switchblades and smelled like intoxication.
From the rooftops he could track them without being seen. He moved along the shadows of the air conditioning units and kept low. The girl was humming with the music in her earbuds, completely oblivious to these men and their intentions. He planned to keep it that way.
With a silent drop onto a fire escape, he continued to follow these men like an apparition as he planned on how he was going to turn into these men’s worst nightmare.
He hopped from the fire escape to an adjacent building, climbing a service ladder and quietly making his way across the roof gravel. He could still hear the men – laughing amongst themselves as they graphically described what they were going to do to this nurse–and the rage that filled Matt almost had him flying off the roof onto them right that second. But, he was waiting. He didn’t want to scare the girl and he wanted to make sure his entrance was as sneaky as possible to get the most effective hit on these men.
He was so focused on them, he didn’t register the second presence on the roof until it was kicking him in the face.
Matt recovered quickly, skidding across the gravel into a roll that had him back up on his feet. He twisted to face whoever kicked him.
This person was not human. Or at least, in the way Matt was registering him in his senses, he didn’t seem human. All of his muscles were contracting separately from each other like they were alive – coiling and relaxing in sequence instead of in tandem. His heartbeat was so loud and strong in his chest, it was deafening in Matt’s sensitive ears and his breathing was as light as his steps. He was dense too. Too dense. Even the strongest foes with the largest muscles were still squishy and fleshy to Matt. This person seemed too solid.
“Hey,” the person said. He sounded young , whatever he – or it – was. “Sorry. I’m not sure what you–,”
Matt attacked. This person wasn’t trained in fighting, despite seemingly being made to fight and he wasn’t fast enough to get a block up – a rookie mistake.
Matt was right about him being dense, because his punch felt like he was hitting a cinder block. He elicited a sharp ‘ oof !’ but it wasn’t enough to knock this guy off of his feet. He staggered back, but stayed standing.
“Hey!” The guy said. “I just wanted to ask you a question!”
Matt wasn’t planning on having a conversation with this guy when he was still trying to protect that girl from being assaulted. He checked in with her. The men were still a good hundred yards away from the girl, but they were getting closer. Closer than Matt was comfortable with. He needed to get away from this guy. He pulled out his sticks and threw one. It wacked this guy on the head.
“Bro!”
There was a sizzle sound and then suddenly Matt’s hands were bound in handcuffs made by something tight and strong and sticky. He tried to pull his hands apart, but this shit wasn’t budging. No matter. He didn’t need to use his hands. He threw his other stick and readied to fight with his feet.
There was more sizzling. Matt figured out it was that substance again and it appeared from this guy’s hands, grabbing the stick midair like a lasso. He swung it to the side, gluing it to the side of an air conditioning housing. “Hey, that was rude!” The guy balked and then suddenly Matt’s feet were stuck in place on the roof. He couldn’t move forward. Shit. He ended up falling forward onto his knees.
“You kicked me in the face!” Matt growled back.
“I thought you were a robber!”
“I’m not a robber,” Matt scoffed. “I’m following these thugs so they don’t hurt that girl.” He motioned with his head.
“Oh,” The guy, or well, kid said. He seemed young. And now that Matt had been pacified, Matt took the opportunity to analyze his clothes. He was wearing sweats, it seemed – a hoodie and sweatpants. He was also wearing a mask with large goggles. Matt assumed he would be a robber. Or maybe an ill-dressed motorcycle rider or something.
This kid lept deftly off the side of the building, his knees coming up high enough that he seemed cat-like. Matt heard some surprised noises and more sizzling. Then the kid reappeared about two minutes later.
“I don’t think they’re going to hurt that girl anymore,” he said. His muscles were now contracting so fast, his whole form was vibrating in Matt’s senses. It was incredible. This kid’s body was more animal than human. It reminded him a little of Nobu. But, even Nobu’s body wasn’t like this . He was just highly trained in body-control.
Matt felt himself sneer defiantly. “I would’ve handled it.”
“Yeah,” This guy said sheepishly. “I realize that now. S-sorry about that.”
Matt just pressed his lips together in annoyance.
“I’m Spider-Man, by the way,” the kid continued, scratching at the back of his head.
Spider- Man ? This guy didn’t seem any older than a college kid. He smelled like whatever the sticky substance that glued Matt’s hands together was, Axe body spray, and pickles.
“Can you get me out of this?” Matt asked and held up his hands.
“It’ll dissolve in a bit,” Spider-Man said. “So, are you like…a good guy?”
“A good guy?”
“You know…like a superhero?”
A superhero ? What comic book delusion did this kid live in? The Avengers tower rose high above the other buildings that surrounded it in Midtown Manhattan. From this distance, Matt couldn’t sense it, but he knew it was there. And he was reminded it was there every time that group of overpowered bullies reduced his city into rubble fighting…aliens, or whatever.
“No,” Matt said tersely, trying to free himself at the same time. Maybe if he got his hands free, he could work on freeing his feet. He fought against his restraints, feeling them stretch a bit like a tight rubber band, but the fibers were too strong to break.
“Oh,” he said, disappointment in his voice. “So you’re a bad guy?”
“No!” Matt said and then huffed out a frustrated sigh. “I’m not a superhero. I’m a…vigilante, I guess.” He winced as Foggy’s words from That Night buzzed around his head like angry hornets. A vigilante. Someone who acts outside of the law . He quickly stamped the churn of emotions it brought with it back it back down. “I fight bad guys.”
The kid made some noises as he pieced things together. “You’re Daredevil !” He almost shrieked.
“Shhh,” Matt hushed. “You’re gonna wake everyone on the block up!”
“Oh, sorry, sorry,” Spider-Man hunched his shoulders. “I usually stay over in Queens, because, well, I know you have Manhattan handled but, I was tracking this guy with a rhino suit…and well, that didn’t go so great but, I always hoped I would run into you! This is so cool!”
Matt groaned and just tried to tug his arms free again.
“How do you do that thing with the sticks?” Spider-Man asked, genuine curiosity in his voice.
“Look, kid–,” Matt started.
“I’m not a kid,” Spider-Man sniffed, his shoulders suddenly squared like he was trying to make himself taller than he was. He was lithe and slight, despite being very muscular. He kind of reminded Matt of himself when he was in high school.
“Okay, sorry,” Matt said, just trying to get out of here now, “it was very nice to meet you but, I really gotta go.”
“Oh, well,” Spider-Man sounded sheepish again. “Webs take about two hours to dissolve.”
Fuck. Matt struggled harder. “Two hours ?” He growled.
“So sorry,” Spider-Man started to hop across the roof gravel. “But, it was nice to meet you too, Mr. Devil!” He shot the “web” from his hand and it connected to a building across the street. And then he was flying in the air, so fast that Matt could only register the small flutter over his head.
Matt stopped struggling and just let out a deep sigh once Spider-Man was out of the range of his senses.
Foggy was hoping his BFF Brett Mahoney was working tonight.
And he was absolutely delighted when he saw that Brett was posted up at the desk sergeant station, doing paperwork. A couple of paper coffee cups littered the desk around the large file he was currently writing in.
“So, do you ever go home? Or did you take the night shift just because you knew I was coming in tonight?” Foggy asked as he approached, now dressed respectfully in a button-down and tie.
Brett’s pen stopped writing and his eyes flicked up. “Acrid.”
Foggy’s smile fell. “It’s a hard word!” He balked back.
“Acrid is a hard word?” Brett asked and leaned back in his seat. “It has like four of the most used letters in the alphabet.”
Foggy made some noises akin to seagull squawks. He wasn’t prepared to compare Wordle scores at the moment and frankly they hadn’t been that great lately. Foggy chalked it up to the brain fog from the lack of sleep. “I’m here for a client.” He just huffed out instead.
“Hmm,” Brett hummed, a sly smile on his face for ruffling Foggy’s feathers. He pulled a piece of paper off of his desk. “For the cop puncher?”
“No, for my client ,” Foggy defended. “Who happens to be accused of punching a cop.”
Brett scoffed, his teeth peaking with his smile. He had a nice smile. Too bad Foggy never really got to see it. “Adamski,” he called over a uniform. “Take Mr. Columbia Graduate over here to room two, please.”
“Thank you, Officer Mahoney.” Foggy said from between his teeth.
Foggy followed the uniform to an interview room where a woman with long, cascading dark hair was sitting cuffed to the table wearing a dirty t-shirt. She was older – in her forties, if Foggy had to guess – but she was beautiful . Holy shit.
“Can I please get out of here?” She asked the uniform. “I didn’t even punch that cop! I didn’t punch that cop.” She said to Foggy.
“Can we uncuff my client, please?” Foggy asked in an exasperated tone and the uniform undid the cuffs.
Foggy gave her a second to rub her wrists before he pulled the chair out and sat down. He shot a look at the cop, who left the room. He pulled out a legal pad and a pen before introducing himself.
“Hi, I’m Foggy Nelson with Nelson and Murdock,” he said politely, “Valerie Nelson called me.”
“Oh, thank God,” the woman sighed. “I remembered her mentioning that she had a cousin who was a lawyer so I called her because I wasn’t sure who else to call. I didn’t punch that cop. I didn’t even touch him! I was just protesting–,”
“Let’s,” Foggy interrupted, “start with your name.”
She gave a sigh and ran her fingers through her hair. “Sorry,” she said and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Where are my manners? I’m May Parker.”
Foggy scribbled that down. “So, let’s start at the beginning. Where were you? What were you doing?”
“I was on the corner of tenth and forty-fourth. We were doing a sit-in,” she said, “to protest prop eighty-five.”
Foggy stopped writing. “That anti-gay bill?”
“Yes, exactly.” She smiled.
Pretty and an ally. If Foggy wasn’t already spoken for, he would’ve tried to get her number. Well, after he was finished getting her out of jail, of course.
“Then what happened?”
“The police got called,” she sighed, “and they tried to get us to leave, even though we had a right to be there. We weren’t loitering. It’s our constitutional right to protest, for chrissakes! This country is going to shit.” She muttered and pressed her fingertips into her temples.
“And then when did the alleged cop punching start?”
“Well, they tried to get us to leave,” she said, “and we were arguing with them because we had a right to be there. It’s a sit-in! We can’t leave until we get heard! But, one of the cops started really hassling me, so I…pushed him back.” She gave a little shove motion to demonstrate.
“You put your hands on the cop?” Foggy asked.
“For like a second! He was reaching for his mace! And I’m a woman and it was one am and I wasn’t thinking,” she pressed her hands to her face. “It was a mistake.”
Foggy sighed. “Valerie mentioned…priors?”
May blushed. “In my twenties I also attended protests, but they had…more violent endings.” She made a yikes face.
“So, this is not your first tussle with a police officer?”
“...no.” She admitted.
Foggy sighed and put his pen down. “Well, on behalf of the LGBT,” he motioned to himself, “you have my thanks. However, assaulting a cop is a felony and it’s currently your word against his until his body cam footage is reviewed, but if you just pushed him and didn’t cause any bodily harm, then that’s good for you. Were there witnesses?”
“Yes, yes,” she nodded. “A whole group of us were there protesting.”
“Okay, that’s also good.” He said. “This sounds more like self-defense and not assaulting a police officer. Cops have a way of being…” Brett Mahoney popped into his mind and he rolled his eyes, “difficult.” He closed his legal pad. “I’ll see what I can do for you.”
“Thank you,” she said and sighed, “thank you.”
Foggy glanced at his watch. He still may beat Matt home.
Matt had to wait exactly two excruciating hours for that web to dissolve before he was able to pull his arms apart. He then worked on getting the strong, sticky substance off of his boots and then yanked his stick off of the brick wall of the air conditioning unit.
He quickly lowered himself down the fire escapes, hopping down each one until he found the men that he had been tracking trapped against the wall of the building under a netting of web. They called out to him for help. He answered by punching each in the head to knock them unconscious.
And then he examined the web substance that adhered them to the building. It stuck to his glove when he touched it and had a thin, viscous coating that reminded him of loose snot, but its fibers were incredibly strong and the snowflake pattern it created that turned it into a net reminded Matt of, well, a spider web . He shook what stuck to his hand off and then pulled himself back to the same roof he had just lowered himself from.
Back above the city, he let out a sigh. He had heard about “Spider-Man” on the news, but he didn’t realize how young he was. He really didn’t need a kid getting in the way. And that’s what he was – a kid. He couldn’t have been older than a freshman in college. He wondered for a second if he was to blame for this – like a copycat of some sort.
But, then he recalled how incredible this boy’s body was – his muscles that vibrated like they had sentience, the way his breathing was so fast and light, Matt could barely register it. He was made or altered to fight – a superhero. But, weren’t all the superheros in the Avengers? Why weren’t they corralling this guy? This was completely out of his domain and he didn’t have the time nor the energy to deal with it.
He shook off the encounter and headed back to his apartment when he deduced that the girl he had been following was safe and the night had finally found peace. He entered from his roof access and was stomping down the stairs thinking about a hot shower and his comfortable bed when he realized Foggy wasn’t home.
“Foggy?” He asked into the silence, but didn’t get an answer. Alarm bells went off in his head and he quickly checked the bathroom and the bedroom for him. “Foggy?” He only found Judge, loafed on top of Foggy’s pillow sleeping soundly.
Shit. As if this night couldn’t get any worse, his boyfriend was now missing. He started quickly cataloging a list of enemies that could’ve not only figured out his identity and his relationships, but then also sneak into their apartment and capture Foggy as hostage. The list was long and getting longer and longer the more Matt thought about it. Shit. He started panicking as he looked for signs of break-in.
Control yourself, Murdock. He ordered himself. There was probably an excellent, ordinary reason why his very defenseless boyfriend was not in the house at three in the morning. There were no signs of struggle in the apartment, no signs of break-in at any of the windows or doors. Matt walked through his apartment, Foggy’s scent was fresh as he followed the trail from the bedroom to the dining area. He stopped at the table to touch Foggy’s open laptop and then the mug of coffee next to it. It was cooling, but still warm. He hadn’t left long ago.
Matt inhaled a deep breath and exhaled it. There was a perfectly ordinary reason why his boyfriend wasn’t here. Or at least, that’s what Matt was trying to tell himself because picturing the alternative was making a sheen of anxious sweat erupt on the surface of his skin. He fought back Stick’s voice in his head telling him that he was a fool for forming relationships in the first place. Relationships are a luxury men like you and me can't afford. And fuck, he couldn’t afford to lose Foggy.
He pulled out his phone from where he kept it in his suit and dialed Foggy’s number and listened to each ring pierce through the meat of his brain like a dagger.
“Hello?” Foggy finally answered. “Ugh, did I not beat you home–,”
“Where are you?” Matt interrupted him, but was relieved to hear his voice safe and sound. He fell heavily into a dining room chair. Fuck you, Stick. He thought defiantly.
“I’m at the police station,” Foggy explained. “Valerie called me to help out a friend that got arrested. I should be home in the next half hour or so.”
“You didn’t text me!” Matt burst at him.
“I did,” Foggy explained patiently. “But I texted your actual phone not your, uh, other form of communication since it doesn’t have a screenreader.”
Oh. He didn’t even think to check his smartphone. It was still sitting on the nightstand. He rubbed his face under his cowl. “You’re at the police station,” he repeated, “with a client. Do you need help?”
“No, I think I got it,” Foggy said, “I’m talking with them right now to get charges dropped.”
“You’re buttering up Brett Mahoney,” Matt corrected him.
“Well, someone’s got to,” Foggy said, “although, I’m out of stogeys for his mom, so I’m hoping my innate charm and wit are enough.” He chuckled and it was actual music to Matt’s ears. Tight knots he didn’t even realize had formed in his chest loosened.
“Okay,” Matt said quietly. He wondered if this is how Foggy felt when Matt avoided his phone calls. He should turn his phone ringer up. “Okay. I love you.”
“Love you too! Also, this client is so hot. Bye!” Foggy hung up the phone.
Matt sighed and finally pulled off his cowl, letting it drop to his feet. He rubbed the bridge of his nose. Super children running around shooting slime from their hands. His boyfriend disappearing in the middle of the night for a client.
He needed a beer. No, he needed two beers.
“Thank you!” May threw her arms around Foggy’s once they had both exited the police station, the desk appearance ticket for loitering in her hand. All violent charges against her were dropped thanks to Foggy’s skills – both in flirting and in the law – and the fact that when the body cam footage was reviewed by the cop’s superiors, it was proven that the cop was trying make a pass at the attractive woman and wasn’t actually doing his job.
“Oh, no problem,” Foggy said, enthusiastically accepting the hug. She smelled herby, like rosemary or incense. “Are you going to be okay getting home by yourself? I could escort you.”
“I should be fine,” she nodded.
“Okay,” he said. “You should drop by my office in the next couple of days so we can go over what to expect at the arraignment.” He handed her a business card – embossed with black lettering on top and braille on the bottom.
“Okay,” she nodded and sighed. “I’ll do that. Will we go over my bill, too?” She suddenly looked apprehensive. “I work at a nonprofit and we don’t make a ton of money.”
“Oh, don’t worry about it,” he assured. “It’s an honor to defend someone so…passionate about LGBT rights.”
“Of course,” she squared her slender shoulders, “someone has to stand up to the injustice in the world.”
Foggy’s bleeding-heart, Catholic boyfriend popped into his head at her words. “Yeah, someone does.” He nodded.
He waited for a cab with her and watched it drive off before hailing one himself. It was dawn now – the sun starting to rise beyond the skyscrapers of the city, illuminating them in oranges and pinks. While he was in the cab, he shot off a text to his cousin telling her it was taken care of. Then he sent another text to Matt telling him that he was on his way home.
When he did get back to the apartment, he found Matt dressed in sweats sleeping sitting up on the couch, his head lying at neck-crick-inducing angle against the back cushion. Judge was curled into a donut on his lap. Foggy dropped his bag next to Matt’s record table and then moved to stand behind the couch. He was gently repositioning Matt’s head into a more comfortable position when his eyes snapped open – the morning light from the window bringing out all the hazel in them – startling Foggy. Foggy let out an embarrassingly girlish shriek.
“You can’t scare me like that!” Foggy protested, his hand over his beating heart. “I’m weak and fragile!”
Matt sat up, he closed his eyes tight and then opened them again. “You’re home,” he just croaked.
“I’m home,” Foggy said and turned around to go to the fridge. A beer at – he glanced at the stove clock again – 5:02 in the morning sounded about right. He pulled one and popped the cap off.
“How did, um, the thing at the police station go?” Matt rubbed his face, turning his own cheeks rosy red.
“Fine. I got most of the charges dropped. She still got a desk appearance ticket though for loitering, so she’ll still have an arraignment. I’ll start a file when I get to the office later.”
“Better than it could’ve been,” Matt sighed.
“Yeah,” Foggy sipped his beer.
“What time is it?”
“Like five in the morning,” Foggy answered as he leaned against the counter. “How was your evening?”
Matt made a disgruntled noise. “I ran into Spider-Man.”
“Spider-Man? From the news?” Foggy asked. “How did that go? I heard he swings from buildings and shit.”
“He’s a punk kid,” Matt said. “He’s strong and fast. But, he’s just a kid.” Matt’s face turned towards the window, bathing him in morning light. His fingers fidgeted on the back of the couch.
“What’s he doing out fighting crime then?” Foggy wondered out loud.
“I dunno,” Matt said, “trying to mimic the Avengers? He’s going to get himself killed.” Matt whispered mostly to himself.
Sounds like you , Foggy thought but didn’t say. He wasn’t up to rehash a fight they had a hundred times now. Instead he sighed and sipped his beer, enjoying the morning light. The pinks and oranges from the sky painted up the inside of their apartment. It brought out the red in Matt’s hair and made his large eyes glow. Matt was so pretty. And Foggy was so busy admiring him, he almost missed that he was speaking.
“So, the client is hot?” Matt asked, teasing in his voice now.
Foggy groaned dramatically. “ So hot, Matt. Jesus. Like, she was older, but MILF-y. Fit, you know? And she got arrested protesting for us. ”
“Us?”
“The gays,” Foggy amended.
“Oh,” Matt blushed. “That’s…nice of her.” It still was a novelty for Foggy to get Matt flustered over being called gay. He was always so confident with women. But, with men…it was like watching a kid trying to ride a bike for the first time.
Foggy started vividly picturing Matt in his first gay club – even though that was something that was going to have to be worked up to. Dropping straight-laced Matthew Murdock into a room with a hundred twinks on ketamine was like dropping a salmon steak into a shark tank. He was in the middle of imagining Matt with body glitter in hair under neon club lights, when he almost missed Matt speaking again.
“Well, I think I’m going to get into bed for a couple of hours before we have to get ready for work,” he said, a tone in his voice that had Foggy’s horny radars at attention.
“Would you like me to join you?” Foggy asked, the same tone in his voice.
Matt’s easy, charming smile slid across his face. “Always.”
Peter crawled up the side of his apartment building, his fingertips adhering him to the brick as he quietly avoided his neighbors windows and kept to the shadows of the architecture. He did this so often, though, he wasn’t really thinking about it anymore. It was like automatically avoiding the squeaky step coming up the stairs.
Instead he was thinking about Daredevil. That was the first other superhero-type person he’s met so far since being bitten by that spider and gaining all the powers afterwards. And he was…kind of a dick, actually. Well, Peter did kick him in the face. But, still. He said sorry.
He slid open his bedroom window with his fingertips and slipped inside, breathing out a breath of relief that Aunt May wasn’t sitting there waiting for him like he always feared when he went out at night. Actually, May wasn’t home at all as far as he could tell.
The sit-in . That’s right. Aunt May was out protesting some new law proposal. She was always doing stuff like that – helping people that needed it. She always made it look so easy too.
He quickly undressed and hid his suit before hopping into bed. He messed the sheets with his feet a bit to make it look like that’s where he had been the whole night. He closed his eyes and sighed, relaxing into his mattress.
And then his alarm went off.
His eyes opened back up and he hit the snooze button before rolling over, tightening the blanket around his shoulders defiantly. His mind was suddenly filled with the amount of homework he still had to do before class that day and well…that made him not so relaxed anymore. He squeezed his eyes shut tighter. Maybe if he counted sheep or something he could forget about it for a little while and get some rest.
Then the front door crashed open.
“Peter?” Aunt May called. “Are you up?”
Well, he was now.
Peter sat up in bed at the same time May knocked on his closed door. “Peter?”
“I’m up,” Peter said, mussing with his hair and rubbing his eyes. He hoped he didn’t look as sleep-deprived as he felt. “I’m up. You can come in.”
Aunt May opened the door, her eyes bright and wild. Her shirt was dirty with New York street junk and her hair was a mess. “I’m glad you’re up. Don’t be late for school,” she said and started to turn around.
“Wait, wait,” Peter said, “how did the sit-in go?”
She turned back around. “I, uh,” she gave a sheepish smile. She kind of reminded of him when he had bad news he didn’t know how to share. “Well, it was fine…until I got arrested.”
“Arrested?” Peter was out of bed at that. “What do you mean arrested ?”
“Like, you know,” she put her wrists together like they were handcuffed, “arrested.”
“What happened?”
“I was just being hassled by a policeman,” she shook her head. “He didn’t like that I wasn’t flirting back, so he came up with a reason to arrest me.”
“Aunt May,” Peter whined, “you should’ve let me come with.”
“No, you’re too young,” she said firmly, making Peter press his lips into a thin line. “Besides, Valerie – you remember her, right? With the short hair? Pretty girlfriend?” Peter nodded. “She has a cousin who is an attorney. He came and bailed me out.”
Peter sighed and rolled his eyes. “You got arrested.” He couldn’t even believe it even when he spoke it aloud. “Aunt May…”
“Not your aunt’s first rodeo,” she smiled knowingly. “Anyway, get ready for school. I got to run by the attorney’s office and it’s all the way in Clinton, so I’m going to take the train in with you.”
Peter sighed again. He usually did his homework on the train, but Aunt May thought he had did it the night before. So, he was going to have to wait until he got on the bus to do it. “Fine,” he grumbled and turned towards his closet.
He was stopped by a hand on his arm. He turned back around to May, who just pulled him in for a hug. He confusedly wrapped his arms around her waist to hug her back. She sighed with relief over his shoulder, her form deflating against him.
“Everything…alright?” He asked hesitantly.
“Yeah,” she said and pulled away to look into his eyes, “just…love you.” She shrugged, her smile hitched up a little.
“Oh, love you too May,” Peter managed back, feeling the heat of embarrassment on his cheeks. He averted his eyes to his socked feet. He hated when she would get sentimental with him. It made him feel guilty for being such a liar with her. She didn’t deserve that.
“Get ready for school.” She left him with a squeeze to his cheeks.