Chapter Text
"Don't the rest of them bleed it out?
While the best of them peter out?"
To Peter, home always felt like the driver's seat of a car. Home felt like his hands on the steering wheel and his foot on the gas pedal. Home felt like a wrench in his hand, tinkering with his grandfather's muscle car.
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Ben's passion had always been cars. One of Peter's first memories with his uncle was Ben showing Peter the engine of his car. It was his father's, Peter's grandfather's, old muscle car. Ben had been fixing it up since he was in college. The car, never driven much, was in perfect condition. Ben had worked on the car so much that May used to joke that if it was human, he would've married it.
When Peter's parents died and he moved in with Ben and May, Peter and Ben bonded over tinkering with the car. Peter was a smart kid who loved to tinker with anything he could get his hands on, and the car was a perfect opportunity to make his kid smile. So, every Monday and Wednesday, no matter how tired Ben was, he'd take Peter out to their small garage and teach him how to fix and modify his grandfather's old car.
Soon enough, Peter came to adore cars. He and Ben would sit on the couch on Sunday afternoons and watch car shows on the TV. Peter would say that when he was a grown-up he would buy a million cars, and Ben would laugh. On those days, Peter used to wonder if life would get any better than that.
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Monday, August 10, 2015
New York City, New York
7:36 AM
Both Ben and May had agreed to not wait for Peter to get his learner's permit when he was sixteen. He could see out of the windshield and reach the pedals comfortably. Peter had wanted to learn how to drive for the past nine years, they knew they'd never hear the end of it if they waited another two years.
So, for Peter's fourteenth birthday, Ben took Peter out to the outer limits of New York City, where the traffic was milder and Peter wouldn't get cussed out for being a mediocre driver. They took May's red 1992 Ford Mustang and ended up in an empty Walmart parking lot.
Peter looked at Ben uncertainly, "Ben? What're we doing in an empty parking lot?"
Ben looked at Peter and raised an eyebrow, "What do you think we're doing?"
Peter looked around the abandoned, dimly lit parking lot and shrugged, "Drug deal?"
Ben pinched the bridge of his nose, "No, Peter. We are not doing a drug deal." He looked over to Peter exasperated, "Why would you even think that?"
Peter looked at Ben as if he was stupid, "We're in an empty Walmart parking lot! What else was I supposed to think?"
Ben looked up to the sky and sighed, "You know what We're going home, I'm not teaching you to drive."
Peter immediately brightened up, "Drive? You're gonna teach me how to drive?" He was practically vibrating out of his skin.
Ben shook his head, "Not anymore," He laughed, taking the car out of park.
"Wait, no! I promise I'll respect my elders!" Peter pleaded, laughing.
Ben looked over to his nephew, "You're not winning yourself any points here, son."
"I'll do anything!" Peter thought for a moment, "I'll even clean my room!"
Ben barely held back a laugh, "Wow, you want to drive that bad?" Peter nodded his head vigorously. Ben put the car back in park and put a hand on his driver's side door handle, "Alright, get in the driver's seat before you give yourself whiplash."
Peter got in the driver's seat and the rest was history. Every early Sunday morning, he and Peter drove to that empty Walmart parking lot and practiced. Then, once Ben felt as if Peter wouldn't crash May's car, they drove on the backroads, then the main roads, then the highways and interstates.
Peter fell in love with driving the same way he fell in love with science and Star Wars, hard and fast.
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Monday, November 16, 2015
Queens, New York
11:38 AM
Nothing made sense anymore. Peter had powers. He had fucking superpowers and his uncle was fucking dead. This wasn't supposed to happen. He was supposed to be normal. How the fuck did this happen?
Truthfully, the past week was a blur. Ever since the ride to the hospital where Ben died in the ambulance and the funeral three days later, Peter had been drifting. It was like his life was out of focus and he couldn't find the right button to get a clear picture.
The bills started to pile up on the kitchen table two days ago. Peter knew May and Ben hated it when he looked at the bills, but he had to know. Would he and May be okay without Ben's income? If not, he could get a job or start charging money for his tutoring. He looked at the pile of open bills and looked at the balances due. He added it up in his head, and it was one too many digits for Peter to be comfortable. He was pretty sure that was more than Ben's life insurance.
So, Peter needed to get a job. No big deal. He could get something at the comic store down the street or the corner store a few blocks away. He went into his bedroom to find his computer. Maybe there were some job listings online.
He looked up from his computer screen when something caught his eye, his Fast and Furious DVD collection. Those characters made some serious cash from street racing, probably enough to pay all their bills. Peter let the intrusive thought go. No, he could not go street racing. That was stupid and dangerous. Besides, he probably wouldn't even be able to find a race. Well, maybe he could. All of his senses had been turned up to eleven since the bite, which included his hearing. He had even heard sirens that were miles away the past few nights. If he could hear that, he could probably hear a street race.
Peter shook his head to get the thoughts away. No, why was Peter seriously considering this? It was a stupid idea that would get him killed, and he should just keep on searching for a part-time job. Besides, he didn't even have a car to street race with, he should just let it go.
A dark part of Peter's mind whispered to him, your grandfather's muscle car. No, no. He couldn't. Ben loved that car. If he crashed it, Peter would never forgive himself. However, it was a perfect racing car; it was in flawless condition, had modifications to make it faster, and he could probably win if he was driving it. It's not like he didn't have the money to get in. He'd saved around nine hundred dollars to buy a new part for the muscle car. But no, no. He couldn't. He had never raced before. He needed to build up the skills and reflexes to win, and that took time. He didn't have time. On the other hand, the spider bite had given him crazy fast reflexes and a buzzing in the back of his head whenever he was in danger.
Peter wanted to get away from his brain. He was thinking about this way too much; he wanted the thoughts and absurd excuses to stop. He only wanted to get a part-time job to help his aunt, not kill himself with a crazy fantasy. He took a deep breath and started to look through jobs. He just needed to do some math. That was something he could do. Math was easy. He was good at math. If the minimum wage was seven dollars an hour and he worked thirty-six hours a week, he would only make two hundred and fifty dollars a week. It wasn't enough. There had to be something more. He looked at his Fast and Furious collection again-- No. He walked out of his room.
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Tuesday, November 17, 2015
Midtown School of Science and Technology, Queens
1:58 PM
Peter couldn't stop thinking about it. The more he thought about it, the more guilty he felt. He was supposed to be mourning his uncle and helping his grieving aunt. He wasn't supposed to fantasize about racing cars. It had gotten so bad that he was even daydreaming in class.
Mr. Harrington's class was always a drag. It was the last class of the day, and his teacher tried to engage the students. Unfortunately, all his attempts ended in embarrassment. Besides, Peter already knew most of the material he was teaching, so it wasn't hard. Sometimes, like today, Peter wished his class was harder, so he didn't end up staring out of the window all class period.
Suddenly, Ned elbowed him hard, "Dude, the bell rang."
He looked at Peter in concern. Of course, Ned knew about the whole dead uncle thing, he was Peter's best friend after all, but he didn't know about the whole street racing thing. Ned knew Peter liked cars and that he and Ben used to bond over them, but Peter didn't trust Ned with his street racing problem.
Ned only wanted the best for Peter and would probably tell a counselor or May that he was "avoiding his grief" or something. And Peter wasn't avoiding his grief, he was just pushing it to the side for now while he figured out how to make some cash.
Peter sighed and packed his books into his bag, "Sorry, I got distracted again." His bag practically flew into his hands with his new super strength. Peter still hadn't gotten used to that.
Ned gave Peter a small smile, "It's okay, bro. I took notes today, do you wanna copy them tomorrow morning?"
Ned was such a good friend. Peter really didn't deserve him. "Oh, yeah. Thanks," Peter said lamely.
Ned put his arm around Peter's shoulders as they walked out of the classroom together, "You know you can always talk to me, right? I won't judge you or anything."
Peter knew he couldn't tell Ned everything, but he could at least tell him half of the truth, "Yeah, of course I know. l, just, I don't know. There's a lot going on right now. I just kinda feel detached from it all," Peter let out a sigh, "It'll get better in a few weeks." At least, he hoped he would get better.
That was more of the truth than Peter meant to say, but Ned looked at him warmly. As they opened the school's door, a wave of cold air hit them. Suddenly, Ned's whole face lit up, "Oh, oh! Idea! What if we just have a mindless movie night? No confusing plots, just mindless action movies. You can relax and have a good time and keep your mind off of everything. Are you free tonight?"
They stopped on the corner where they would have to part ways and Peter smiled, "That actually sounds like a good time. I'll ask May when I get home."
Ned's face lit up like a Christmas tree, "Cool! I'll see you in a few hours." Peter and Ned parted ways to head back to their own homes.
A mindless movie night would be perfect for getting his mind off of street racing. Maybe, after tonight, he would realize how stupid the idea was and go look for a real job.
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Tuesday, November 17, 2015
The Parker's Apartment, Queens
2:12 PM
Peter opened the door to his apartment and put his bag down. He looked around his living room/kitchen. "May, I'm home," he yelled.
Usually on Thursdays, May went to work an hour after Peter got home from school, but with all the extra shifts she was picking up, Peter never knew when to expect her at home. He tried again, "May? You home?"
May peeked her head out of the bathroom door. She was putting her hair up in a bun with a hair tie in her mouth. She finally got her hair tied up and smiled at him, "Hey, honey. Getting ready to leave in a few minutes. Did you have a good day at school?"
Ever since Peter had gotten his powers, his vision was clearer than ever. He had thought it was a blessing when he didn't need to wear glasses anymore, but now that he could see May's dark circles under her concealer and all the gray hairs on her head, his enhanced vision felt more like a curse. She looked so tired; he wished he could give her a vacation or at least a day off. Unfortunately, they couldn't afford it, not with all the bills piling up on the kitchen table.
Peter smiled at his aunt, "Yeah, had a good day. Do you need help with anything?" Peter had been trying to take on more of the housework since the funeral; he would do chores for the rest of his life if it meant that May would get a little more sleep. Part of his mind whispered to him that she would get more sleep if he won a few races and got a little cash out of it. Ignoring the intrusive thoughts, Peter took a deep breath and focused on May.
She shook her head, "No, I don't think so. Oh, wait. Do you think you can do the dishes before you go to bed?"
Peter nodded, "Yeah, I'll go do them now." May walked into her bedroom, probably to look for her purse or a jacket. Peter started to walk over to the sink full of dirty dishes. He turned around to face May's bedroom, "Hey, is it okay if I go over to Ned's for a movie night tonight?"
Peter could hear her shuffling through her closet from the kitchen, "Yeah, of course. What time do you think you'll be home?"
Peter shrugged even though he knew May couldn't see it, "Around eight or nine?"
May walked out of her bedroom and nodded at Peter distractedly, "Yeah, okay. Make sure to do your homework and text me when you get home." Maybe May wouldn't be so distracted if Peter made a little money to help her out, he thought. A part time job wouldn't be enough to take the financial burden off of her shoulders, Peter knew that.
Peter heard the jingle of May's keys, "Love you, May. See you tomorrow."
May looked over her shoulder as she reached for the doorknob, "Love you too, Peter."
Once May shut the door, Peter found a new determination. He knew he couldn't let her down. He had to help her. It had only been a week since the funeral, and May was running herself ragged. Peter couldn't let her down.