Chapter Text
Peter sat on his knees feeling blood pool all around him. Uncle Ben had been shot and he was dying, quickly. Peter had never meant for this night to go as it had. He just wanted to walk, to clear his head.
Peter pressed his shaking hands to his uncles chest to try and slow the bleeding. Peter could barely hear anything, like he was underwater. His breathing came out in ragged gasps as he yelled “call an ambulance, someone call a fucking ambulance!”
He turned his attention back to Ben, his skin was pale and his eyes were glassy and had a fare-away type stare. A sob escaped Peter as he looked helplessly at him. He slowly pulled back his hands knowing there was probably nothing else he could do. Peter lowered his head down to Ben’s chest and cried.
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I’m so fucking sorry.” He repeated as he continued to shake.
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Peter sat in the police station. Completely detached from himself. He didn’t move, didn’t speak. Just stared. His eyes red and puffy from crying so much. As he sat one of the only things he felt was the tremors in his body.
He only snapped back to reality when he heard the voice of a policeman talking to him.
“If you don’t have anyone who can come and get you we will have to contact CPS.”
Peter nodded, still remaining silent. He did have his aunt May, but she lived all the way over in another state. She was busy anyway with the hospital and such. Peter also didn’t want to have to explain his whole identity to her in case that was dealbreaker anyway.
He didn’t have anywhere to go, anywhere to stay. Hell he didn’t even have his phone because it was considered “evidence”.
He was allowed to go back to the apartment and grab a few things before he had to go.
Peter lingered in the old apartment, taking in every detail and scent of the home he was probably never going to see again. He didn’t want to go, he didn’t want to leave it behind.
Peter gave one last longing look before he headed out the door.
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Peter was sent back to the police station where he sat in one of the old uncomfortable chairs, waiting for whatever was next. It’s funny, how his whole life could change in one night. How his own stupid decision could lead to his own demise. He shouldn’t have stormed out of the house, he shouldn’t have walked down that alley, he mostly shouldn’t have argued with Ben.
Peter wondered what he would have done differently if he'd known it would end up like this.
Right then the same police officer walked back into the room where Peter had been occupying.
“Well, we have gotten some news, we found someone who would be willing to take you in for a while, in the city. You’re pretty lucky that it’s in a familiar place.”
“Oh yeah, lucky, so goddamn lucky” Peter thought bitterly as he just nodded along to what the officer said.
Just as the officer turned to leave Peter spoke up.
“When, um, when would we be leaving.” He said barely above a whisper, his voice raw from sobbing his lungs out.
The officer looked up at the ceiling pondering for a moment until he replied. “I would guess in about an hour.”
Peter nodded as he shifted his eyes up to the clock in the room. It read exactly 4:00 am. Peter was so tired, his body screamed for rest but Peter didn’t even know if he could sleep if he really wanted to. The images of his uncle flashing in his mind like a slide show every time he closed his eyes haunted him.
Peter wished he had anything to distract him, anything at all, he couldn’t handle having to face his reality. There was nothing in the room he could use to help escape so Peter had to return to next best thing he could come up with to avoid his anxiety powering into overdrive.
Dissociation. Peter had learned this was a very useful skill early on in life after his parents died. If he didn’t want to feel something then he just…didn’t. It was like an off switch.
As soon as it became too much he could just stop. As much as it was a helpful skill in his early years it had also later become a hassle too. Peter always felt so emotionally disconnected that he never really knew how he was feeling. He didn’t know what was happening around him since he was always in his head so often.
But none of that really mattered in the long run it looks like. Peter’s life was practically over.
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Soon Peter was yet again being driven in a cop car to a random stranger’s house he had never met who he apparently was going to have to live with for god knows how long.
Peter looked out the window seeing the city whizzing past the car. He could tell the sun was slowly but surely starting to rise from the way the sky was turning a light blue.
They drove for a good 45 minutes until they arrived upon another apartment building. It was a nice looking place, it was a light brown with a small staircase with black metal handles leading up to it.
The outside exterior of the building made Peter’s nerves settle a bit, if the outside of the place looked this nice then surely it wouldn’t be too bad right? Peter grabbed his ratty old backpack from the seat beside him and slowly got out of the car.
He walked up the steps and rung the doorbell. Peter waited a few minutes, he could hear moving and shuffling around inside before the deadbolt unlocked and the door opened.
A tall pale man stood in the doorway. He looked at Peter up and down before speaking. “Hey! You Peter Parker, you’re going to be staying with me for a bit, correct? I’m Skip, Skip Westcott.”
His voice sounded pretty friendly but Peter refused to look him in the eyes. Peter refused to look most people in the eye actually, it felt easier to talk if he didn’t have to look at peoples faces.
Peter cleared his throat, trying to put his voice as low as he could.
“Yeah, I guess I am.”
“Well I know it’s late but why don’t I show you around inside a bit, would that be okay?” Skip asked as he stepped back into the house letting Peter inside.
Peter started undoing his sneakers as he replied. “Sure, yeah we could totally do that.”
Skip went up a small stairway into the main entrance. To the left there was a hallway with a few doors, to the right was a nice living room with 2 couches and a coffee table. Straight ahead was a big kitchen with a table and chairs next to it. So not super big but Peter could make do.
Skip walked into the kitchen and Peter followed him.
“Feel free to get anything you want from the kitchen, the last thing I would want you to do is to starve” skip said with a light laugh.
Peter forced a tight smile and then looked towards the hallway, he wanted to find his room so he could sleep so bad.
“Oh right,” Skip said quickly striding over and down the hallway “down here is where you will be sleeping, just across from you is the bathroom.”
Peter took note of everything, looking inside the bathroom he saw a window. He made a small note to himself of where he could escape if he ever needed to.
Peter turned his attention back to the door where his room was as he head skip knock on it.
“Hey Wade! I have a little surprise for you!” Skip called into the room.
Wade? Was there another person here as well? Did Peter have a roommate?
Skip opened the door to the room and Peter peered inside. It was a nice looking room. I had a big closet up against the wall and to the left of it was a bunk bed. Next to that was a drawer with 2 cupboards. At the foot of the bed there was a desk with a boy sitting at it. Peter guessed that must be Wade.
The boy turned slowly around in the swivel chair. Peter’s breath caught in his throat a bit as he looked at the boys face. He had a load of what it seemed to be burn scars. His hair was a light brown and it was very short. Sort of like a grown out buzz cut.
Peter gave him a small wave and quickly averted his gaze as to not try and seem like he was judging him.
The boy gave no reaction and turned back to the desk. Now Peter kinda felt like a dick. Met someone new and he already probably fucked it up.
Skip looked between the two boys as he spoke “well I’ll leave you two to introduce yourselves.” And with that he was gone.
Peter let out a breath he wasn’t aware he was holding. He scanned the room once more before he heard a voice.
“You can just set your shit down wherever, top bunk is mine though.” Wade said.
Peter nodded even though Wade couldn’t see him. He threw his backpack into the bed and laid down next to it.
Peter looked over to where Wade was sitting and watched him for a bit before he got the nerves to speak.
“What are you doing?”
“Practicing my golf swing.” Wade said sarcastically “I’m just reading what does it look like I’m doing,”
Peter felt a tiny bit hurt at the response but asked another question anyway.
“Well then, what are you reading?”
“1984 by George Orwell.” He replied “it’s for a class.”
“Oh,” Peter replied “I don’t think I ever read that one, in my class we read Mice and Men.”
Wilson just gave a small nod as he kept on reading.
What felt like an eternity in awkward silence Wade asked him a question this time.
“How did you end up here?”
Peter slightly surprised at the question thought of lying for a moment, but decided against it.
“My uh…uncle passed away. He was the one taking care of me.”
“No parents in the picture?” Wade replied
Peter shook his head.
“Yeah, same. Shit sucks but what are you gonna do.” Wade responded.
A string of silence hung against them for a while until Peter was back to the one asking.
“What uh….what happened to your parents.”
He asked nervously, wringing his hands together.
Wade stopped reading and just stared for a moment.
“Died in a fire.”
Peter felt a pang of sympathy for the boy in front of him as he replied.
“Oh, im sorry that sounds…hard.”
“It’s okay.” Wade responded and he returned back to his book.
Peter retreated to staring at the bottom of the bunk above him. It might be a long, long time here. But at least he might have a friend out of it.