Chapter 6
The fifty bucks feels weighty in Peter's pocket and it takes all his self control not to clutch it protectively to his chest. He had never been anywhere as crime ridden as Gotham, but he had grown up in Queens, and advertising where you kept your valuables was like asking to get robbed. He was in the richer parts of the city, but he figured it was best to be safe and sorry.
He makes it three blocks from the Gazette building, and the street starts to shape into something familiar. Peter only realizes why as the Gotham City Public Library comes into view. Peter takes the stone steps three at a time and steps into the building - with minimal ogling, this time - grateful for the shelter from the cold.
The first thing he notices is that the librarian isn't at her desk, he can hear two voices above him near the computer area, though and assumes she's helping another patron. Peter glances at the digital clock posted on the entrance wall, and sighs when it reads ten o'clock. With his phone offline for the time being, and his plans to pick up groceries later in the evening so he isn't hungry going to sleep, Peter has virtually nothing to do for the time being.
He'd normally be out spider-manning around this time, but he had been washing his suit when he got dimension-napped so...
Boredom starts to nibble at the back of his brain, and Peter's about to resign himself to waste some time watching stupid videos in the computer area when he gets an idea. He moves on over to the librarian's desk and waits.
The chances that any of the books in this library have anything actually plausible on dimensional travel and the like is extremely unlikely, but as of right now, Peter has exactly zero (0) leads. Don't get him wrong, he's pretty confident in his engineering skills, but he'd atleast like some kind of guide before trying to make transdimensional technology.
The last thing he wants to do is accidentally blow his city block sky high because he accidentally builds some kind of super-charged atomic bomb instead of - whatever the hell it is he's gonna build!
Peter shudders at the thought but shakes it off as he hears the librarian approaching. A minute later he can see her, too, along with whoever she was talking to. She spots him by the desk and wheels over. Peter waits until she's behind her desk before clearing his throat.
"Hi! I don't mean to disturb, but I have this - er, science project," He starts. "We're supposed to be doing a report on the spring theory, or something like that, and I wanted to ask if you guys had anything on that..?"
Librarian Lady - Barbara, her name plaque provides - regards him for a moment before smiling slightly, and Peter can just make out a tiny scar on the corner of her lip. "Oh, it's no problem. I'm sure we have plenty of material, just give me a sec." She responds, and turns on her computer.
As she clicks away, Peter spares a subtle glance to the person who'd followed her to the desk. He was leaning slightly against a nearby bookshelf, and smirks when Barbara starts typing - at what, Peter's not sure.
He meets Peter's gaze and gives him a small wave before he can look away. He returns it and takes the time to observe the guy. He's wearing a yellow themed sweatshirt and some jeans, his hair is shaved close at the sides with little star shapes engraved into them, but the rest is longer and falls as dark curls atop his head. There's a white rubber bracelet on his left wrist, and Peter thinks it contrasts nicely against his dark skin.
It's apparent that this guy is an extremely cool and classy teenager, and Peter's suddenly very nervous. He's in the midst of praying this guy doesn't try to talk to him (he does not want to make a fool of himself) when Barbara speaks again.
"Okay, it seems here that what you're looking for'll probably be somewhere in the science-non fiction section," She points at a row of shelves close to the back of the library before turning back to him. She must see something in his expression, because her green eyes fill with amusement.
"That's Duke," She nods her head in the other teen's direction "He doesn't bite."
She's teasing him, and Peter flushes in embarrassment. He hears Duke give an indignant squawk before pushing off the bookcase in their direction. He holds his hand out and Peter's at a momentary loss before he comes to his senses and clasps Duke's hand with his own.
"Peter." He introduces
"Duke, but you already knew that." He mutters, glaring in Barbara's direction. Peter laughs, and Duke grins back at him. When he does, Peter swears he sees sunlight glint off his teeth, which is weird because the closest light source is from the entrance a couple feet away, and even then Gotham's geriatric gloominess dampens it.
Duke saves him from groveling in inferiority when his phone gives a chime. He didn't spare it a look before claiming he had to go, and all but running out of the library. He waves at both Peter and Barbara as he pushes open the heavy glass doors.
With that interaction over, Peter bids Miss Barbara fairwell and makes sure to thank her again as he makes his way to the science non-fiction aisle. Oddly, his spirits are higher than they've been in a while. He barely even feels the hunger pangs as he searches bookcase after bookcase.
Peter leaves the library feeling lighter than he has in days, his backpack isn't so heavy and the cold doesn't bite as hard. He's at a crossing light waiting for the sign to change when he notices the small deli right next to him. It reminds him painfully of Delmar's, and God does it smell like it.
The scent of sweet honey ham and freshly toasted bread invade his nostrils and his stomach gives a painful twinge. The sign finally switches to walking, and Peter's feet are barely off the sidewalk before he hears a shout of his name.
"Peter!"
The voice is feminine and...excited? Peter can count the amount of people he's met in this city on one hand, and even then he doesn't think he's given anyone a reason to sound so excited. Peter turns to where he heard the voice call out - from the deli - and a smile stretches across his face as he sees who it is. Because waving enthusiastically with a huge grin on her face is none other than-
"Linda?"
She waves him over and inside the store. The smells are even better in here and it's nice and toasty, too. Linda's sitting at a small table and gestures to the one across from her when he approaches.
Peter takes a seat. She's wearing scrubs, her hair's a little messier than last time and Peter can make out the faintest eyebags from underneath her lashes. She looks relaxed, but there's an ever-present tension present in her shoulders that Peter knows all too well. She's been working hard.
Linda looks at him over the bottle of orange juice she has pressed to her mouth, "Are you hungry?" She asks out of nowhere. Or atleast, Peter hopes it's out of nowhere, surely he can't be that obvious. He's opens his mouth and is about to force out a 'no', but a traitorous growl from his empty stomach answers for him.
Peter groans an flushes in embarrassment. Linda laughs and gets up, and walks over to the dell's counter. She beckons him with a wave of her hand when he doesn't get up. Peter panics. He only has fifty bucks to his non-existent name right now, and he really wants to save up for food and water, he's in no position to splurge no matter how hungry he is.
He tells Linda as much, but she waves him off, with a "It's my treat." And well, Peter can't really complain after that. A few minutes later he's digging into a heavenly combination of cheeses and meats over an Italian loaf. He and Linda talk between bites and sips.
She's a good listener, Peter thinks, she makes it easy to talk to her. Their conversation lasts a while, and somewhere in the back of his mind, Peter's reminded wholly of May.
He knows she isn't here anymore. He knows it's Linda he's talking to, but when she looks away from him to check her phone, he pretends that jet black strands are deep brown waves instead. A wave of guilt washes over him and stays even when she puts her phone back in her bag.
"I've gotta run, I made plans with my fiancé this weekend." An apologetic look forms in her crystal blue eyes. blue, not brown.
"Wow, all the way from Central?" Peter asks, recalling the name from the city she'd mentioned. Some place in Missouri, apparently.
Linda looks very amused at that, and the twitch in the corner of her mouth tells him she's trying really hard not to laugh. "Yeah..distance isn't really a problem for him." This time she does chuckle, "Neither is time, actually."
Wow, her they must be very dedicated to each other, Peter thinks. Good for them.
He wishes Linda goodbye, and recieves a reassuring touch of the shoulder in return before she's out the door, the only evidence she had been there at all the new sandwich wrappers in the nearby trash can.
These past few months have shown Peter that he doesn't do well alone with his thoughts, and he's out the door not even five minutes after Linda leaves. He stops by the grocery store near the theatre when he gets back to Crime Alley and does some dumpster diving, scoring another sweater and some scrapped parts.
He manages to get a loaf of bread, peanut butter and a jug of water with about twelve bucks left over. He was going to get a few packs of instant noodles too, before he forgot he had no means to heat them unless he got some of the things in the theatre working again. Peter's wrapped up in the familiar stress of keeping-myself-alive when he spots something that stops him dead in his tracks.
It's a fabric store, from what he can tell it doesn't have much - a commodity amongst most businesses in Crime Alley - but it has these two sheets of fabric right next to each other on a rack. One a vibrant red, and the other a bright blue, and it reminds him so much of his old Red & Blues that for the second time that day, Peter Parker wants to cry.
It's too flimsy, he tells himself. He'd have to stitch it by hand and restitch anytime a thug got lucky with his handgun or a pocket knife, he says. It takes everything in him to make his feet take one step after the other, but he's past the storefront after a few moments.
And as Peter walks through the streets of crime alley, taking in the shadowy figures huddled into alley corners and the way a woman clutching her purse to her like a lifeline flinches at the sound of a nearby gunshot and walks that much faster, he thinks - not for the first time - that these people need help.
Crime Alley has its own protector, he'd learned that first day at the library, but you could never have to many people looking out for the little guy, right?
His eyes feel heavy and the fog of sleep starts to tug at his mind. Peter pulls the show curtain turned blanket closer to him. That night, Peter dreams of weightlessness as he swings through the air, and how good it felt when he helped someone else. The pride that filled him as young people started to help old ladys across the street.
He dreams of Spider-Man.