The Yellow Pages

Kat had been watching Dance Moms on full volume since 7:00 am. Despite his talk with Gwen not Gwen, the two had now been avoiding one another for three days, only communicating in small grunts and nods when absolutely necessary. 

Peter stifled a groan once more as he looked at the unfinished program on his laptop, his brain far too occupied with the level of noise in the room to be making any real progress.

“Could you please turn that down?” All at once, the dam was broken. This was, of course not the first time Kat had pulled something like this over the past few days. In fact, it was almost as though she had been toying with him: waiting to see how long he could take the constant annoyances without breaking.

“Sorry, I can’t hear you, the volume is too loud,” Kat replied, eyes not even moving from the screen.

“Kat, please. This is for work, I have to get this done,” he reasoned, attempting to catch her gaze. 

“Oh, and which job would that be again? The illegal unpaid nightlife you lead?” She looked him dead in the eyes this time, cocking her head in faux curiosity.

“Kat, I swear to God, I will-”

“What? What are you gonna do Parker? Set another supervillain loose on my grandmother and me? Oh, or maybe you could lie to me about why you have to stay at my house again. That was really awesome of you.”

“I tried to leave, you wouldn’t let me,” he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose in an irritated manner.

“You got me into this situation, and now you have to get me out of it. Is that not fair?”

“Why do you hate me so much? ”

Kat froze, cheeks flushing in what almost looked like embarrassment. As though she thought maybe he hadn’t caught on: that he was oblivious to her anger.

“Try not to look so surprised, it doesn’t suit you.” That was mean. Kat’s mouth clamped shut and she stood from her spot on her bed, fleeing out the door. 

“Kat, wait. Shit.” Peter wanted to bury himself alive. Only seconds after Kat, he came hurtling down the stairs, but she was already out the front door, and Peter arriving just in time to watch it slam shut. Deflating as defeat washed over him in waves, he let out a deep sigh.

“Don’t mind her, she’s just angry at the world.” Sitting on the couch, was Mrs. Jennings, fiddling with pieces of the puzzle before her. She greeted Peter warmly as usual.

“Unless of course, you did something to upset her, then I’ll have to kill you myself.” He eyed the old woman warily and somehow, despite her small frame and brittle bones, he didn’t doubt she could. He drifted over slowly, sinking down onto the floor beside the coffee table, hands reaching out to nervously fidget with the puzzle box.

“I just- What happened to her?” His brow furrowed in confusion as he grasped desperately at his memories to recall what exactly he’d done to make her so upset.

“How much has Katherine told you about her mother?” Mrs. Jennings asked, looking away from her puzzle to meet his eyes.

“I- I know she passed. My condolences for your loss,” he replied and a faint smile graced the older woman’s lips at his sincerity. It vanished in a moment.

“Well, she didn’t exactly just pass away, Peter. She was murdered.” The old woman said, her vision clouding and a deep sadness etching itself onto her face. “Stabbed twelve times and left to bleed out in an alleyway. Truly horrendous.” Peter felt as though his stomach had taken a leave of absence from his body. He thought he might be sick all over Mrs. Jennings’s Persian rug.

“Kat was still in high school and she wasn’t exactly on speaking terms with her father, so after that, I was all she had left. She’s a tough girl, Kat, always has been, but she’s always been different since then. I mean, she was the happiest kid you’d ever met: always smiling and laughing. So… bright. I haven’t seen her like that in a long time. Until you showed up, that is,” she smiled deviously in his direction as though she had just unleashed a secret that wasn’t hers to tell. Peter couldn’t help the feeling of triumph deep in his gut at the sentiment. Still, as he stood from the table, thanking Mrs. Jennings, his mind felt heavy with everything he’d just learned.

Peter dragged his feet along the sidewalk as he approached the cemetery for the second time in two days. He couldn’t think straight and though speaking with Mrs. Jennings had helped, he still didn’t know where he had gone wrong with Kat. He needed Gwen. Needed her advice. Needed someone to tell him how to fix this. 

He wasn’t used to company in the graveyard, so he couldn’t help but jolt in surprise at the sight of someone else loitering amongst the dead. And yet even the shock didn’t hit quite as hard as the recognition of a familiar head of red hair, stuffed carelessly beneath a striped cap.

“Kat?” he called out. She didn’t respond. He approached slowly towards the spot at which she stood, laying a careful hand on her shoulder.

“Hey, Kat?” It was gentle. Much gentler in fact, than anything he’d ever said to her before. When she whipped around, he felt his heart sink impossibly deeper into his chest at the sight of her tear-stained face. 

“Where were you?” she croaked out finally, voice hoarse from sobbing. “Where were you that night? You should have been there. You could have stopped it.” There it was. The reason she hated him so much. She blamed him for the death of her mother. 

“What?” Peter stumbled back.

“You saved all those people on that bridge, and you- you were a hero. You were supposed to be a hero. And then you just disappeared. Even though the bad things were still happening. You gave up, and now she’s gone.” She looked away and sank to the ground at the foot of the grave. Peter’s eyes flashed to the headstone. The date of death. She’d died only a week after Gwen. A week after he’d abandoned the city. 

“Kat,” he started.

“I just wanted a mom. I didn’t get a great dad and that was fine. That was okay as long as I had her. I needed her. I needed a mom,” she said and her voice came out broken and weak.

“Can I introduce you to someone?” he asked carefully, crouching beside Kat to extend his hand. Brushing a fist across her face to catch the falling tears, she nodded tentatively. Peter took her hand in his and began to guide her through the rows of graves, stopping short in front of that all too familiar bouquet of daisies.

“Kat, I’d like you to meet Gwen. Gwen was my girlfriend a long time ago, but something happened and I- I couldn’t save her, so I gave up. Nothing seemed worthwhile with her gone and it was my fault, and I knew it was my fault and- And I couldn’t live with any more deaths on my hands, so I didn’t even risk trying to do what I knew was right. I’m sorry I couldn’t save your mom Kat, you have no idea how much I regret giving up to this day, but I hope this at least helps you understand why,” he finished, glancing at the ground.

The pair stood in silence for a moment before Peter felt a small squeeze on his hand. He looked down at Kat’s fingers, now intertwined with his own, and allowed himself a breath of relief. It wasn’t forgiveness, but it was a start.

Kat’s voice was quiet when she finally breached the silence that hung heavy in the air between them. 

“Can I ask you something?” She fixed her gaze on the concrete as she allowed the words to push their way past her lips. Peter only nodded, afraid that any wrong move would ruin the peace that had finally settled between the two as they made their way back to the Jennings’s home.

“Perfect because actually, it's not really one question so much as it is a list of inquiries,” she admitted as her hand freed itself from Peter’s grasp to dig through her pocket. She quickly unearthed a crumpled receipt from the depths of her pocket and began to smooth it out. Still, he couldn’t quite bring himself to care about the ridiculousness of the action because Kat was smiling. Her words were genuine. Bright. Excited. 

“Shoot,” Peter prompted, straightening his stance. 

“Where do your webs come from? Is it like a bodily fluid type thing from inside you?” she asked, looking up from her numbered list to catch his eyes. A smile crept onto his face.

“Webshooters,” he explained, hiking up his sleeve to reveal the small device wrapped around his wrist. Abandoning his gaze, Kat’s eyes immediately flew to his arm, fingers jumping up to delicately trace the machinery.

“So you don’t shoot webs out of… other places?” She raised her eyebrows suggestively with the implication and Peter shoved lightly at her shoulder. 

“Gross, no.”

“You got bit by a radioactive spider, right? That’s what you said?” Peter raised an eyebrow at the fact that Kat, even in her anger had seemingly cataloged the few things she’s learned about him as Spider-man. 

“Yes…” He narrowed his eyes, noticing the way she seemed to have abandoned the fairly lengthy list scrawled on the back of the old receipt, opting instead to continue down her current line of questioning. This was going to be a long conversation.

“So do you have radioactive fluids?” she asked, seemingly without remorse or embarrassment.

“Define fluids.” Peter urged her on despite knowing what she was attempting to goad out of him.

“Blood, urine, cu-”

“No.”

“No? So you’ve tested this theory before? Oh my god did you have to piss on somebody to figure that out?” Kat allowed a teasing grin to creep across her features.

“No- no. I have not peed on anyone,” Peter laughed.

“Then you don’t know, do you? You could totally have radioactive pee and be living in some blissfully ignorant paradise. What are you gonna do if a helpless citizen gets stung by a jellyfish?”

“Take them to the hospital I guess,” Peter giggled, playing along.

“Not to mention radioactive jizz, imagine having to call an ambulance for your next partner after you accidentally kill them by way of your cum,” Kat tsked and shook her head. “A tragedy, really.”

“Actually, well- I can’t- my jizz- cum- it’s not-” Peter stumbled over the sentence, cheeks heating up with embarrassment at the implication. Kat only laughed at his sudden redness before continuing down her line of questioning.

“Alright Peter Parker, I guess you do have moves,” she joked, shoving him lightly with her shoulder.

“Whatever,” he scoffed in return.

“What about flies?” Kat asked, looking back at her predetermined list of questions.

“What about them?” he asked in return, purposefully evasive in his response.

“Do you like- you know- do you eat them ?” The last part came out in a tentative whisper, her voice tinged with an obvious ick factor.

“No. For the most part,” Peter replied, shoving his hands deeper into his pockets.

“ For the most part? ” Unable to contain her disgust, Kat let out a shriek, purposefully distancing herself from the man beside her. “I think I’m gonna throw up.”

Peter couldn’t help the smile that made its way onto his face at the faux gagging noises she made beside him.

“I’m messing with you by the way,” he whispered, ducking down so his mouth was level with her ear. Kat gasped, splaying a hand across her chest in mock offense.

“So what exactly are your fancy spider powers?” Kat asked, head tilting to signify her genuine curiosity.

“Well, for starters, I’m super strong,” Peter began only to stop short at the sound of Kat snorting beside him. “You don’t believe me?”

She simply raised a challenging eyebrow in return as the two neared her home. 

“I mean, no. It’s just that, you’re kinda scrawny …” she answered, her choice in adjectives rolling off her tongue with an ease that in no way reflected the damage it had done to Peter’s ego.

“ Scrawny? ” He willed his voice not to crack as indignation came off of him in waves.

“Slender?” Kat suggested.

“You know what Katherine Jennings, I’ll show you scrawny,” he threatened, dipping low to scoop her off the ground and throw her over his shoulder with ease.

“Peter, oh my god, put me down!” She wriggled in his grip but giggled nonetheless as he spun her around fists making a weak effort to pound at his back.

“Sorry, Peter’s not here right now, he left to go see a girl about an apology. Leave a message after the beep.”

“Peter-”

“BEEP.”

From her position, hanging over his shoulder, Kat sighed in defeat. “Hey Peter, it’s Kat. I was just calling to apologize about calling you scrawny earlier. You are obviously a very big, strong-”

“Handsome,” Peter suggested, a smirk painting his lips.

“ Handsome man. Now, will you please let me down,” Kat concluded and Peter lifted her carefully off his shoulder, lowering her so that when her feet hit the ground the pair were only inches apart. His hands remained firm on her waist. Keeping her steady of course. She let out a shaky breath and he felt the warm air brush his cheeks. Their noses were inches apart and god was she beautiful. Had she ever looked this beautiful?

Suddenly from behind Kat, there was movement: somebody had stepped down from their porch into their yard. He could feel their eyes on him. On Kat. His gaze jerked up from her face towards the perceived threat. There was in fact a man watching them. A man standing in the Jennings’s front yard. 

“Always a pleasure Peter Parker.”

“Dr. Connors?”