Chapter 3
Peter would like to say he was woken up by sunlight shining through the window and the chirp of birds, but he can't. In the end, Peter Parker was awoken by the hunger pangs and a monstrous growl from his stomach.
When was the last time he ate?
The first thing he did when he woke up yesterday - atleast, his yesterday - was head to Delmar's to buy his sandwich. His sandwich that he didn't even get to eat. Considering he needed about 3x the amount of calories that an average human needed just to function, skipping meals wasn't something he should be doing on the regular.
The pangs weren't as bad as they had been the first time he couldn't afford his usual amount of instant noodles, though. These few months Peter and hunger had become intimately familiar, it was something of a constant. On good days, it would just be a niggling thought in the back of his head. On bad days, he would find himself doubled over, falling against one of his apartment walls with his arms wrapped tightly around his abdomen and squeezing tighter still, as if that could do anything to stop the pain. Aunt May would be turning in her grave.
Alas, Peter had to stop feeling sorry for himself sometime.
Vaulting himself up from the dusty show curtain he had torn down to use as a makeshift blanket, he put his sweater back on over his t-shirt, - getting a whiff of himself in the meanwhile and instantly recoiling - and decided it was time to explore. He'd decided to use the theater as a temporary shelter until he found a way back home. If he found a way back home.
With the way the theater was boared up from the outside, it shouldn't have came as a surprise that the building was in almost mint condition. Except for the layer of dust that coated everything and the tiny heartbeats he could hear scurrying in the walls, it was neat as ever. Heck, Peter wouldn't be surprised if it looked the exact same as the day it had closed. And wasn't that an unusual state for an abandoned building - especially one as large as this - to be in? Peter briefly wondered about the oddity of his living situation before a sudden ache and a loud grumble reminded him he had more pressing matters to attend to.
Say...this place used to be a movie theater, right? And movies meant popcorn. And judging from the sheer amount of rats he had heard, they had obviously found something to feed on. Making his way behind the old cashing counter, he peered into the forgotten popcorn machine, wiping off a film of dust from the glass. Empty. But he had expected that, and continued further back into where he assumed the storage area would be.
Peter almost cried when he came across a large sac of popcorn kernels. Did popcorn kernels expire? Peter didn't know, and found that he didn't really care. He was hungry. Plus, he had once eaten a moldy sandwich when Ned dared him to in middle sschool. How much worse could moldy popcorn be?
Peter grabbed the sac with a couple fingers, dragging it back to the popcorn machine. He checked it again, and when he couldn't spot any visual evidence of bacteria, he poured half the bag into the little metal pot inside. He was pretty sure there was oil around here somewhere that he was supposed to pour in before the popcorn, but he couldn't be bothered. Peter checked to see if the machine was plugged in properly, (it was) before rifling through the storage area one last time to find some sort of flavoring. Grabbing a few packets of powdered butter and emptying them into the kettle, Peter leaned against the counter to wait for his subpar breakfast.
Now that he was less likely to die of starvation, and was no longer occupied, the rational side of him came out. The side that actually cared to think about the fact that he was in an alternate dimension and just what that meant for him. Peter didn't know if he existed here, he had forgotten to check at the library, too distracted by the shock of discovering the heroes - and people - he knew didn't exist here. Assuming he didn't, either, Peter figured was going to need some sort of identification eventually. He didn't want to be eating popcorn for every meal, and he needed warmer clothes. What if he got into some sort of trouble - as he was prone to do - and they couldn't find anything about him. That wouldn't be a good look for him.
The loud popping from the machine pulled Peter out of his thoughts. He took up one of the Jumbo Sized paper bags he had taken from the back, packing it to the brim before he started eating. As he all but stuffed popcorn down his throat - a plan started to form in Peter's mind. Judging from what he'd seen of the tech available at this point in time, Peter assumed that building some sort of machine to get him back would take months maybe even years! Plus, he didn't know if this world had any magic-weilding wizards or if magic even existed here, but that would be his next bet. Then again, even if he did find someone, there was no guarantee they would be able to get him back.
Then there was the matter of compensation..
Peter bit down too hard on the handful of popcorn in his mouth, his teeth catching on his tongue, making him wince slightly. He let out a deep sigh. Exhausted, almost. Building his way back to his own universe through the wonders of technology and engineering it is.
Peter felt a smile tug at his lips at the familiarly giddy feeling he felt rising up in him as he thought back on his time interning under Tony. He'd been taught by Tony Stark himself and before that, he was building his own web shooters and mixing the necessary compounds for his webfluid. He was Spider-Man, He could do this.
He had to.
Peter crushed the empty bag in his hands and grabbed his backpack off the floor.
Peter stiffly sat down in the plastic seat, watching the shadowy gray of the tunnels give way to lighter - but still depressing - skies. Though, the clouds looked to be more of a 'sidewalk' today and less 'siphon of happiness'. Peter shrugged, had to count your blessings when they came.
Peter started slightly when someone sat down next to him, she was a pale young woman with midnight black hair pulled into a professional looking bun and warm brown eyes. She was wearing a two piece business suit, so Peter assumed she was going to work. She seemed to notice his (extremely obvious) staring and flashed him a hesitant but kind smile.
He flushed, and fought the urge to look away for long enough to give her an awkward smile back. God, way to be weird, Parker.
They sat in silence for a while before the woman spoke up again, "Are you new here?"
How the hell did she guess that? Peter followed her gaze down to his backpack on the seat to his right. It also didn't help that he was pretty close to the exit doors, it wouldn't take much effort for someone to run through and grab it and run out the other side before the doors even closed or right as they closed if they got lucky.
Peter winced, clutching his bag more tightly to his chest. Total rookie mistake.
"Is it that obvious?"
The woman laughed, "A little, you just don't make mistakes like that in Gotham," She got an annoyed look on her face, "I lost the bag my fiance gifted me for our anniversary along with everything in it my first visit, I had to get everything replaced."
Her annoyance had grown into full-blown anger as she spoke, and Peter couldn't help but chuckle slightly. Linda didn't seem offended though, and laughed along with him.
"That sucks, I'm sorry that happened to you Miss..?"
She stuck her hand out to him, "Linda."
Peter shook it. She had a surprisingly firm handshake. "Nice to meet you, Linda. I'm Peter."
They sat in silence for a bit until Peter finally found the courage to ask, "So, of you don't live here, are you here on business by any chance?" Before realizing that that's an incredibly personal question to ask someone you just met like five minutes prior. "I-if you don't mind me asking, ofcourse."
To his credit, Linda looked extremely amused by his socially awkward shenanigans, Peter spied the corner of her lip twitch up slightly, something he would of missed if not for how easy it was for him to notice even the miniscule change in facial expression.
"It's no problem at all, Peter. You seem trustworthy enough" She reassured him, "I'm due to start working temporarily at one of the hospitals here. Some kind of program the Wayne Foundation is sponsoring since the one I'm working for is so understaffed."
Peter opens his mouth to respond when the train grinds to a halt at his stop. Peter swings his backpack over his shoulder and turns to say goodbye to Linda. Considering how long they've been talking, it would be rude not to.
"I have to go, but ood luck at your new job, Miss Linda!"
Linda waves him goodbye, a friendly smile on her face. "Don't sweat it, good luck to you too, Peter." She replies sweetly and then more seriously, "I hope you find what you're looking for."
"Me too."
Peter smiles back, and as he steps off the train he can't help but hope that he sees Linda again soon.