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Ever since they defeated Loki after he’d turned them into children, Peter felt different.
He didn’t know how exactly he felt different, but he just felt different.
The feelings started after Loki had turned them into children, and they were put into DAYCARE by the Colson bots. Being held, comforted, and taken care of seemed to spark something inside of Peter. When the bots told them it was nap time, Peter was ready to conk out immediately. He didn’t exactly have the best sleep schedule. Well, Peter wasn’t even sure if you could call it a schedule , with how erratic and staggered the amount of sleep he got each day was.
However, with how disgruntled his team was, he decided it was best to keep his mouth shut. He was the leader; he couldn’t just be like “no, guys, it actually feels kind of nice to be babied for personal reasons I am still figuring out and have yet to talk to a therapist about. Why don’t we just take a nap?”
They managed to revert back to their teenage selves, took down Loki, everyone was happy, yadda yadda… But when Peter got home that night, he still felt small. The weight of the world and expectations always felt heavy for Peter, but now the world seemed so much bigger, hazier, and, as much as Peter hated to admit it, scarier. He stared at himself in the mirror, examining every inch of his body, but everything was the size it should be.
So why did he still feel like he was a toddler?
Aunt May immediately caught on to his dampened mood at dinner; she was always perceptive like that. She didn’t say anything, though, and instead opted to worriedly glance at him every so often from across the table. Peter internally scolded himself. Aunt May already had a lot on her plate, and he shouldn’t dump more on her with personal problems. He was Spider-Man! If he could fight bad guys, he could figure this out.
Peter insisted on doing the dishes, hoping that it would alleviate his guilt. It didn’t, since he could still feel May’s gaze burning into his back as he gathered the plates and awkwardly shuffled towards the sink. However, his infamous Parker Luck™ decided to make a surprise appearance, making him trip over nothing, faceplant, and drop the two plates he was holding. They loudly shattered on the ground.
May saw the whole thing from her spot at the table, and she quickly rushed to Peter’s side.
“Peter! Are you okay?”
Peter slowly hauled himself up so he was sitting back on his heels. As his gaze lingered over the mess he made, a knot formed in his gut and traveled all the way up to his throat. His eyes stung, and before he knew it, he started crying.
He repeatedly wiped his eyes, but the flow of tears never waned. He felt so confused, so upset, so tired, and so so small . His mind was screaming at him; the message “WANT MAY WANT HUG WANT COMFORT” blared over and over. However, the “bigger” part of his brain was also screaming at him, telling him that he’s being dramatic; he shouldn’t be crying and needed to stop right now because he’s worrying Aunt May.
He was in the middle, undefined. He was humiliated that he was crying, but still lost and scared, but also too big to be comforted.
“Oh, Peter, it’s okay. You’re okay,” Aunt May said. She knelt down next to her son and started rubbing comforting circles on his back. “We have other plates. There’s no need to cry.”
“I-I’m s-sorry. I d-don’t know wh-hy I’m cr-rying,” Peter hiccuped.
May gave him a sad, loving look before pulling him in for a hug. Peter eagerly wrapped his arms around his aunt and buried his face in her shoulder. May slowly swayed them and whispered comforting words until Peter’s sobs died down.
“Feeling better?” May asked, to which Peter nodded. He swiped a hand across his face to get rid of the snot dripping down his nose, but it only resulted in him spreading the snot across his face and hand. He wiped it on his jeans. If May was irked by it, she gave no indication. She simply stood up and helped him stand up as well.
“Why don’t we clean this up? Can you get the broom for me, please?”
Peter nodded. He returned with the broom in a snap, and May helped and guided him in cleaning up the plates.
One safely disposed of, Peter fiddled with his fingers and murmured, “I’m sorry…”
May brushed her son’s bangs out of his eyes before giving him a kiss on the forehead. “It’s okay, Peter. Accidents happen. Anyways, it’s getting late. You should probably go to bed.”
On cue, Peter let out a big yawn. He bashfully chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck. He turned towards the stairs but abruptly stopped. He slowly turned back around to face Aunt May, with a blush creeping up his neck.
“Can you… read to me?”
He felt so embarrassed that he was asking this. He had found out that the SHIELD team watched the security footage of Aunt May reading to him, him playing in the bathtub, and him mocking Nova in the mirror some time ago, and he never heard the end of it. But, now that he thought of it, he remembered feeling “small” all those times, too.
He’d have time for reflection later. Right now, all he wanted to do was snuggle up in bed with his big plush bear and fall asleep while May read to him.
May simply smiled at him and said, “Of course. Why don’t you put your pajamas on while I finish the rest of the dishes?”
Peter nodded enthusiastically and rushed up the stairs.
Even when he was having a hard time and was struggling to figure things out, Aunt May was always there for him. A rock in a storm.
Maybe he could work this feeling out with her. But for now, he’ll get a well-deserved rest.