The only saving grace they had was that they’d known about it with as much notice as they had been given, long enough to get affairs in order but still short enough that every day was a strike against the already breaking heart. It had been a diagnoses that had brought them down for almost two weeks, fourteen days, shutting themselves up in their apartment with no one but each other as their only company.
Despite how much it killed her, knowing that she was talking about her one day leaving him, breaking that promise she’d made after they’d buried Ben, she knew it would be irreversibly wrong to leave her dearest nephew out of the loop. It broke her heart making him so upset, but she still sat him down and explained everything to the best of her ability.
Peter hadn’t known what to say after the long winded explanation of May’s most recent doctor’s appointment and subsequent follow up visit in the ER for the other tests, and he’d simply taken to curling up against her as they watched one of those old black and white films that were their secret thing. Her fingers twined into his curls, tugging and rubbing through the curls as gentle as May’s touch usually was, and he trying to touch every part of her, as if should he move she would just disappear completely.
“May?”
She hummed, muting the corny music on the flick, “Yea baby?”
“What’ll happen to me?”, he sniffled quietly into the shoulder of her night shirt, “I mean…You’re all I have left. What happens to me when you’re gone?”, his fear, though so miniscule at this time, was that he would be alone then. He was too old for someone to want to adopt him when the state came to take him away after his last relative died.
His aunt kissed the side of his head, her hand sliding down to turn his head from the side, fingers curled around his cheek, “Sweet heart, it’s unorthodox and might be frowned upon, but that’s something I want you to choose. If you’re going to be with them until you’re grown, I can’t leave you to someone you hate.”, her cheek pressed to his, “You’re never going to go to one of those group homes. Never. Baby, we’ll figure it all out.”
Peter nodded, tucking himself back into her side, her hand returning to his curls, and they unmuted their flick.
…
May’s first treatment was on October 14th, it was a Tuesday, and she had told Peter that she didn’t want him there with her despite his protests. Not until things were cleared up and they knew the path that was going to be taken. She’d been adamant on that front and he promised that he’d go stay with a friend, someone who was a responsible adult that could help him during this trial even if they didn’t really know what was going on.
His first call had been to Mr. Stark, naturally, and he waited a total thirty seconds on the line until it went to voicemail.
Hey, he gets it, sometimes people miss the phone, so he called again.
It was straight through to voicemail this time.
His call had been declined and he stared at the screen for a long moment as if he were sure it was some kind of joke and that Mr. Stark would realize who it was after a moment and call right back. Five minutes passed and then ten, and he felt his throat constrict slightly at the continuous picture of his lock screen; Llama in a Sombrero. Fifteen minutes passed and he choked down the urge to cry, burrowing it deep down inside himself, and he unlocked the phone in his hand. His fingers moved with the ease those of a phone addicted teenager does, flipping through the screens until he came to his contacts app, and scrolled down the list until he found what he was looking for.
Taking a deep breath, Peter pushed the ID and held his phone to his ear lightly, waiting on baited breath as the phone on the other end rang; once, then twice, three times, “Hello?”
“Hey…..ummmm…..Are you at work right now?”
“Sure, am kiddo. Here until late tonight, got a case we’re working on, Fogs left for some take out and Karen’s making a fresh pot. Sorry no tag teaming tonight.”
“No, no, that’s cool…. Can I…. Can I come over too?”
There was silence on the other end, and he was scared for a moment that they’d hung up on him, “Is everything okay Peter?”
He shook his head as if his friend on the other end could see him do so, “Not really.”
“I’ll text Foggy, he’ll get some take out for you, come on down kiddo.”
Peter promised he’d be there in approximately fifteen minutes and waved to the lady at the waiting room desk, she smiled at him and waved back, and he stepped out into the cool sidewalk outside. Though they lived in the city that never sleeps, the crowds had disappeared, no one wanted to be outside when the temperatures dropped as low as they did during this time of year.
Aunt May was going to be there for the next three to four hours anyway.
He turned around the corner at the end of the street, turned into an alley, and climbed up the side of the building at the darkest end. It was crazy of him to think about swinging from here to there, but he had a time limit and didn’t want to be alone now. He’d be alone soon enough and would deal with it then.
The sting of the cold autumn air woke him up, it made his eyes water, so he claimed, and he felt no shame in letting a few tears slip free while it whipped at his face with every twist and flip. It was just the cold in the air.
Nelson, Murdock, and Page.
He was familiar with the place, alarmingly so, outsiders might find it concerning that he knew two lawyers and their friend as well as he did, but then an outsider really wouldn’t understand, would they? The door was unlocked, as he reached for the handle with his hoodie covered hands, and stepped into the warm office, it was like a blow dryer to the face, but like, on a low setting and the appropriate distance away from ones face so that it was comfortable and not overbearingly so.
Karen greeted him with the same smile she always did, and if she thought something was off with him, she made no mention of it, he was forever thankful for this goddess of a woman.
“Hey Peter, how’re you doing sweetie?”
He smiled at her in return, small and slightly wet, and they hugged for a moment longer then they usually did. She sighed softly into his curls and rubbed at his back for a moment before they stepped back from each other.
“I’m okay Ms. Page.”
“You know you can call me Karen, Petey.”, she ruffled through his hair fondly, “I made you some cocoa, it’s in his office, we’re here for you sweetie. Always.”, She didn’t ask what was wrong though and he loved her for that. They all knew he would come to them if it was too bad, there was little that they had managed to drill into his head, but they had managed that. Peter smiled at her gratefully and stepped around her, heading back towards the office on the left, faintly he could hear the rustling of papers and it was enough that it brought a smile to his face.
He knew that the older man knew he was here, standing in the hall, he knew it was him as soon as he stepped into the office out front.
“Hey Peter.”
“Matt.”
…
May started her third cycle three and a half weeks after her first, her schedule was closer in range, getting more of the bad, but the side-affects from such a schedule was quick in rearing their ugly head too. A double-edged sword.
Mr. Stark hadn’t returned his original call, or the three he sent following it, his calls usually went straight to voicemail these days anyway.
May was getting weaker and she was getting tired earlier and earlier. The days right after treatment she would sleep most of the day away, and then the days after she’d still have to take too many breaks. Her work at Metro had put her on extended medical leave for the time being, paid of course, and they all told her that they knew she could beat this fight.
But she couldn’t.
She knew that.
She was fighting a losing battle, she knew that, the doctors knew that, and Peter knew that.
He’d sobbed into his pillow that night she’d told him.
She hadn’t wanted to, but he’d asked to be kept in the loop.
“Pete?...”, her voice was softer than ever now, and he thanked his lucky stars he had his super hearing, he could hear her from the complete other side of the apartment when she called for him. He tossed his text book onto his bed and scurried over to her aid, ready to do whatever was needed, “Yea May? You okay? Thirsty? Sick? Hot? Cold?”
May Parker smiled at him with uninhibited adoration and pat the spot next to her. Mindful of her frail state he climbed in under her and Ben’s old quilt and they cuddled down together. She hadn’t wanted to ask yet, wanting to wait until a better time, but her mind was too jumbled with worry until she knew, and better time was of short supply these days.
“I’m okay baby.”, she sniffed some of his curls, smelling the strawberry shampoo he loved, it made her smile, “I’m okay. I just wanted to talk. It’s important.”
Peter felt himself shrink with that one statement. That was the same thing she had said before his parent’s funeral, he didn’t remember much but he remembered that, and he remembers crying for his mom and dad to come home, and Uncle Ben had hugged him real close and Aunt May had promised that they’d get ice cream and cake and watch movies all night, knowing that it would do little to console him but trying to distract him all the same, crying when he started crying.
“Pete, baby, I have to get some things changed in my will.”
He knew this talk was coming. He knew it, and had tried to plan for it, but it still made him cry.
…
“Hey Matt?”
His older companion hummed from next to him, eyes closed, and glasses tossed haphazardly on the table next to him. Both of them were stretched out on his couch, feet crossed comfortably on the coffee table in front of them, file and paperwork abandoned in their place under their feet.
“What happens to minors when their guardian dies?”
Matt fell still beside him, turning his head slightly, Peter knew that he unseeing eyes were staring at him, but he refused to look over. The damn Devil would know and that was not the confirmation that they needed right now. He didn’t want to confirm anything, confirming it meant it was really true…right?...so he’d deny it as long as he could.
“Well it depends on Peter.”
“On what?”, this time he did look over, and his friend said not a word on the matter at heart, lifting his arm slightly for the young teen to squirm under, his head cushioned on his collar bone instead of his own palm on the arm of the couch. Matt Murdock was not usually as touchy with other people, but he had a heart, and would deny the way he adored Peter to the grave and did not miss the crack in the young boy’s voice at his question.
“Well, if there is other relatives, those are taken into consideration first of course. Staying with family through that time is best given the circumstance.”
Peter nuzzled closer, smelling the faint scent of smoke and leather and cinnamon-y body wash, “What if there is no other family?”, they both made no mention of the arm that tightened around his waist that pulled him closer, nor the chin that settled on his silky curls, “Well sometimes it’s considered sending them to foster care or a group home, depending on age of course. Or if the last legal guardian made other arrangements in their last will, that’s taken into heavy consideration too, and depending on the situation and arrangement that’s written out, its tried to be followed to the best of the court’s ability.”
Calloused fingers scratched at the side of his head, “Why do you ask?”
“For a friend.”
If Matt knew he’d lied he made no mention of it. If he heard his heart rate pick up for a moment and then return to its normal hummingbird-esque beating then he didn’t comment on it. Peter looked up for a moment, when the scratching stopped and sighed, his friends eyes were closed again and his breathing had evened out, Matt had fallen asleep.
(He tried calling Mr. Stark again. Once. At his office phone. KAREN said she was sorry, but he was busy and would call back later. He never did. Peter didn’t call again.)
…
October went on, weeks to weeks, and November rolled in like a lion.
It was two thirty in the morning, Peter was staring at the change of guardianship forms laid out on the table, an updated copy of May’s will that went with them, when his aunt called out in alarm. He wanted to run into the room to help her, but she told him not to, she’d had an accident and couldn’t get up. She didn’t want him to see her like that.
Peter felt his world crashing around him as he fumbled trying to think of what he could do. Aunt May didn’t want him going in to clean her up and change the nasty, he didn’t know many others who would help and didn’t have her friend’s numbers from work though they called daily.
He had no hope of her answering when he called her, “Hello? Peter?”, his breath caught on a sob, the reality sinking in for him in that moment, “Pete are you okay?”, there was rustling on the other end as she must have tossed the covers away and she stepped up out of bed, “What’s happened?”
“Karen I need your help!”, he was able to get out between his sobs, he felt his knees shaking and stumbled to sit on the edge of the couch, physically flinching as Aunt May started coughing in her bedroom, trying with all her might to get up, “No Aunt May! I’m getting help! Hang on!” ~ “…. okay baby…” and he cried harder at her willingly giving up like that, “Peter?”
He took a deep breath, calming himself down as best as he could, May needed him to be strong for her because she couldn’t always be strong for herself anymore, he had to be strong enough for the both of them.
“Karen, she’s sick, she’s really sick and—and—and she had an accident and can’t get up and I don’t know what to—to do and she doesn’t want me to see her like that…..Aunt May is really really sick.”
On the other end, she fell silent for a moment, “Okay sweetie, it’s okay, I’m coming over. Take a deep breath for me, take it in, there you go, now let it out. I’m on my way sweetie. Do you want me to call the others? Matt? Foggy?”
“N…No?.......I just……Please come?”
“I’m on my way sweetie, hang tight for me, I’ll be there before you know it.”
Karen Page knocked on their door nearly twenty-five minutes later, still in her pajamas and her hair up in a messy bun, her coat bulky but warm, and she hugged him tightly when he let her in. Peter sniffled into her shoulder and pointed towards Aunt May’s room at the other end of the hall, across and to the left of his.
She didn’t miss his pile of blankets outside her door, where he’d stationed himself to be as close as he could be and hugged him closer. Oh Sweetie.
“I’ll be right back, sweetie.”, she led him to the couch and sat him down, shedding off her warm coat and wrapping it around his shoulders, “I’ll be right back.”, he nodded, and she turned, stepping up to Aunt May’s door, knocking and waiting for her to call out her welcome to enter. She disappeared inside the darkened room for a moment and the door clicked closed behind her.
Peter rubbed at his eyes with the back of his hand and heaved in a steady breath, his throat was sticky and weird, and he stood to get himself a cup of water. Filling it at the sink, he sat back in his abandoned chair in the kitchen. Staring back down at the papers he’d already half filled out on the table, he stared at them for a good ten minutes and then crossed his arms over the table and laid his head down.
Fingers carding through his curls started him from his light slumber, he hadn’t slept through the night in nearly a month and a half, not since May’s first side effect had come through, and his body was trying to tell him something, he was sure, when it took real effort to open his eyes. Karen smiled down at him, taking the seat to his left, and turned the papers towards her to read them.
Her eyes widened and then returned to normal size, “Oh sweetie…..Does he know?”, he shook his head, Peter was scared, scared that if he did that he’d say no and then he’d be on his own for real. She hugged him to her side after a moment, “Oh Peter…He’d sign them in a heartbeat. We all would if it needed more than one. In a single heart beat.”, she promised not to tell either of their other friends on the promise that he sleep on the couch for the rest of the night, she’d stay and watch over May and him, he was out before his head hit the pillow.
…
“Peter?”, his voice startled the teenager from his thoughts, waiting outside the treatment room for his Aunt, he wasn’t expecting to see him here of all places.
“Foggy?”
The blonde man smiled at him in greeting, flopping down next to him on the bench, “The one and only kiddo. What’re you doing here this late?”, they knew his school schedule, and that it was a Tuesday, “I’m here for my friend, she’s getting treatment at the moment, Chemo, wanted her to know that I’m here for support.”, the spiderling turned to look up at his older friend, Foggy looked as though he wanted to ask more but bit back the questions to the obvious misdirection from him, “What are you doing here?”
“Client business. Matty’s out doing what he usually does at this time and I thought I’d come get the paperwork we needed from the nurses station.”
At the end of the hall the nurse called out for him and Foggy nodded in her direction, giving his shoulder a tender squeeze, “Call if you need anything kiddo. Anything.”
He knew that they had to know that something was up, Matt was practically a walking-talking lie detector test and Foggy could read people like an open book (or just him as that’s entirely possible too) they were a great team and bitching investigators and sharks for lawyers. They knew how to dig without people knowing they were digging.
“I will.”
…
“You really should tell the principle!”, Karen was not happy, not at all, when he showed up to the office with a soaking shirt, a muddy backpack, and a bruise slowly fading from the side of his jaw. Flash had gotten basically one good shot before their scuffle had broken up.
On an unrelated note, he thought, I’m suspended for the next two days.
“How on earth is that unrelated?”, damn him and his internal thoughts spoken with his external voice. “You got suspended for fighting? Matt!”
There was a soft chuckle from behind them, in the seat behind the desk Peter had perched himself on. “Karen, at least he didn’t throw the first punch?” It did not lighten her mood, but she begrudgingly agreed with him, and spun on her heel, with a quick ‘I’ll get you some ice’ from over her shoulder. Matt went back to the papers he’d been reading in brail on his desk and Peter hummed under his breath, leaning back on his hands, his left ring and pinky finger brushing against the older man’s right wrist. Staring at the wall and knowing that May was staying the night at the hospital tonight, Peter heaved a great sigh as he pushed himself forward and hopped off his friends desk, Matt grunted at the sudden sound of his shoes slamming lightly on the floor and he uttered an apology as he reached for his backpack.
Folded and crumpled in the inner pouch were the forms. Filled out save for the signature lines, it wasn’t a good idea to forge that of a lawyers, Peter was prone to do dumb things in his youth but that would be one of them.
Matt’s pen scratched at the paper he was reading as he jotted something down in the margin and read on.
He unfolded the papers and took a soft breath, though he knew he was heard taking it, and turned back to face his unseeing friend, “Matt?”
“Yea kiddo?”
The finger paused midway through what Peter knew to be a sentence, red tinted glasses turned to look up at him, “Can you…..uh…..sign something for me?”, he stumbled forward, setting the crinkled paper down in front of the devil in disguise, Matt ran his hands over the smooth surface and frowned when he felt nothing.
“What is it?”, he cocked his head, lips turning upwards slightly in amusement. “I’m a lawyer, kid, I never sign without reading first.”
Peter took a breath, his heart beating against his ribs, “It’s nothing. Just something for school.”
He hummed, folding his hands over the unraised paper, “Right, and how about the truth this time?” Damn him and his lie detector ears. Peter swallowed hard and shuffled where he stood, his hands clenching around each other.
“It’s umm…..Itschangeofguardianshippapers.”
Matt sighed heavily, leaning back in his chair, “Kiddo, I’m good, but not that good, slow it down for me.”
“Okay, gosh, its uh…change of guardianship papers.”
Silence filled the office, nothing but the click of the clock out front and the zoom of cars outside the window filled the space around them.
“Change of guardiansh—”
“May’s dying.”
He said it. It was real. Oh god, was it just him or was it getting hard to breath, his throat burned. He heard Karen inhale sharply outside the door, and Foggy mutter something to her a low tone, too soft for him to hear, barely. Matt stared at him for a long moment and he prepared himself for the rejection, Mr. Stark had hurt enough, he didn’t know if his heart could take any more at this point.
“Peter, I can’t feel it, where is the line?”
Peter felt his breath catch, “Where’s…. Wha…. You’ll sign it…?”
“If you’ll guide me to the line, kid, can’t see it.”
His hand shook as he grasped Matt’s larger one, pulling it down towards the bottom of the page, until it was hovering over the dotted line, the older man nodded his head in thanks and signed his name on the line. Peter stared at it for a long minute.
His name.
He signed his name.
“Thanks Matt…Thank you so much…. I swear I’ll—"
Tears burned his eyes as they blurred his vision. Rough fingers tapped at his wrist.
“Let us help now?” His tone was soft, so unlike it usually was to others, but Peter was special in that way. “Of course I’d sign it kiddo. Always. We’ll get it notarized so it’s official.”
…
(Mr. Stark finally called, two months since his last attempt, and tried to get on him for blowing up his phones for a non-emergency and that he was a busy man and ‘Someone had better be dying kid!’ and went on as such until Peter was crying too hard to respond, curled up on his and May’s couch. Matt took his phone and said something in return, Peter didn’t catch it, but he knew the tone that was used. Foggy nodded in agreement, voicing Karen’s own agreement even though she was with Aunt May in the bathroom at the moment. Tony demanded to know who he was talking to and Matt had all but growled into the phone ‘You’re worst fucking nightmare, asshole!’ and hung up. Peter jumped at him when he sat down next to him on the couch.)
…
Peter wasn’t sure how long they’d known something was up, or who had figured it out first, but it was a bittersweet relief that he no longer had to deal with it on his own now. He hadn’t thought much about agreeing with Matt to let them help him and May now, but they’d stepped up to the plate faster then he’d imagined.
Matt and Foggy had taken over the legal proceedings that came with May’s deteriorating condition. Karen had put her number on speed dial in his phone and told him to call any time. Any hour of the night. Any day of the week. They were all there to catch him when the weight of it all became too much, when they’d been told that she wasn’t responding to treatment anymore and he found that he couldn’t get himself to stop crying.
He’d called Matt’s phone, couldn’t even get a word out, and it was the middle of the day too, but they’d shown up anyway. Foggy had a brown bag of soup-to-go in hand and Karen had hugged him tight after Matt had helped him to the couch. He’d told them everything, despite their plates being full already with their new clients and latest case, and they’d listened silently until the end.
Peter Parker was no stranger to death. He’s known it since he was barely out of diapers. First his parents, he remembers vividly, them dropping him off at his aunt and uncles for the weekend while they went away for a work trip. He can’t remember their faces too great, but he’s seen pictures; he has his mom’s eyes and his dad’s curls. He remembers them promising to come get him just before lunch on Sunday and kissing him goodbye.
They never came back to get him.
Then there was Uncle Ben, that was on him, his blood on his own hands, they were stained red with it. They’d gotten into an argument and Peter had stormed out, like any teenager would, and Ben had felt bad and come to look for him. There was no way for them to know that the last time they’d have seen each other, actually seen each other, that it would be filled with such anger and hatred. Peter remembers the mugger coming out of nowhere, gun loaded and ready, demanded everything that his uncle had. Ben had always been a giving person, but the bad man hadn’t believed him when he said that the thirty two dollars and fifty cents he had in his pocket was all there was.
He doesn’t know who this man was, not then, but he knew that he’d decided that his uncle’s life was worth thirty two dollars and fifty cents.
Peter had nightmares for weeks after, the warmth of the blood as it soaked into his front and into his sleeves, the red. All the red.
Peter Parker was very familiar with death.
It was an old family friend.
Karen had hugged him until he fell asleep on the couch, curled tightly in one of May’s old knit blankets that smelled so much like her, and his head cushioned on Matt’s thigh.
…
(May Parker had declined being sent to stay in a Hospice facility, saying that if she were going to be going she wanted to go surrounded by Home. So they got her a medical bed and plenty of pain medicine and she slept most of the day, but she was home. Curled up in the blanket that had been on her and Ben’s bed for years, the pillow under her head smelled like him still, and the signs of her family all around; pictures and certificates and teenager’s hoodies.)
…
They knew that it had happened when Matt had called in to say he was going to be out for the next few weeks, short message to the point, and hung up without so much as another word. Foggy knew to get the papers ready for when CPS came knocking, and he did so quietly (and if there was tears shed in the back of the office no one asked) and set them out on Karen’s desk. She met his gaze for a moment and more tears weren’t shared.
Peter was called off of school for an undefined amount of time and given the sorrowful condolences from the office secretary who had answered the call, and to take his time. Spiderman took time away, enough that people noticed, and the bad-guy community wondered what was happening when Daredevil disappeared for the same span of time too.
Foggy and Karen told Claire when she called and word travelled fast, the others filled in for the two vigilantes during their time away, swearing to keep everything in order until they were ready to come back.
Death was a common shared friend.
May had gone peacefully in her sleep, she had felt it coming since the day before, and Peter was by her side the entire time. The bed was big enough that he could squeeze in next to her, Matt had stayed in the other room to give some semblance of privacy during the heart-wrenching moment but was there to catch him when Peter fell again.
They’d called the ambulance to come get her and then retreated back to the older man’s apartment in Hell’s Kitchen where they had stayed silently and locked away for the first week following her passing. Peter slept most the week away, his body nearly shutting down in his deep rooted anguish and sudden drop into depression, waking only to the soft call of his name from his newly declared guardian to get him to eat and drink and the like before he was allowed to go back to sleep.
(when he didn’t sleep though he cried. Day and night. It was just a bit heart breaking to listen to)
Perhaps it was better that he slept most of the day away, Matt mused once when he crawled into the bed as carefully as he could next to the boy, because no one was sure how much more Peter could take before he’d taken enough.
Castle, despite his history and mutual dislike for Murdock brought his doggo for Peter to hang out with once they finally opened the door to the outside world again. Max licked his salty tears away and Frank gave him his condolences gruffy, in the only way Frank Castle could give such heartfelt sentiment, with an underlying hint of fondness behind his tone.
Foggy and Karen came over the following week, Matt answered the door and beckoned them in over his shoulder as he turned to make his way back to the couch, Peter sat up slightly to let him in, and in he slid, holding his arm up for the boy to settle back down again. They didn’t say anything as they took up their own posts, no words were needed, their being there was enough.
Peter was exceptionally clingy the week following his weeklong slumber and Matt didn’t have the heart to tell him to get off, not even he was that cruel, and he’d all but pull the boy closer for comfort. He didn’t ask for a lot, heck, he barely said a word and for a kid who normally was such a motor mouth it was concerning.
Ned and MJ came over the week following their return to the land of the living around them, they’d have to learn where Matt’s apartment was if Peter were going to be staying there now, and they’d stayed the weekend before having to return to school the following Monday with promises to text as much as they could.
And they did.
Early morning and almost every hour, sometimes more, sometimes less, but they texted constantly. Not even caring if he responded, they didn’t ask him to for the whole day that he hadn’t and didn’t ask after that either. They texted him regardless.
On the fifth week mark of May’s passing they finalized the plans that had been set forth for funeral arrangements, and Peter had broken down completely and entirely for the entire day that followed but they’d gotten them completed none the less.
Matt had been against him trying to contact Mr. Stark for her funeral but didn’t make any moves to stop him when he dialed the number, anyway, leaving a customary voice message.
It was a small service, friends from the hospital May had worked at came, some people that had been family friends of her and Ben’s for years, Ned and MJ were there, giving soft apologies and words of comfort that went in one ear and out the other. She was buried next to Ben like she’d wanted to be, and her favorite flowers had been laid on the freshly laid dirt.
Seven days later May’s Will had been read and Matt was given official rights to Peter as per her request.
He went back to school three days after and Matt back to work a day following.
It was a sad routine at first, awkward, but they managed and slowly the light started to filter back in. Wade smashed a cupcake into Matt’s face one night after an insult too many and Peter laughed so hard that he fell from his perch on the back of the couch.
Then they tag teamed him.
It was a glorious defeat.
He claims duress under torture for his reluctant surrender.
Peter started to chatter about the going-on’s at school and became a common sight among their office often perched on the edge of Matt’s desk. He’s become somewhat of an office handyman, fixing it when it breaks, the copy machine was now his mechanical baby.
A month after the funeral they cleaned out the old apartment. It took a span of two days and no one rushed the teenager, letting him curl up in his aunt and uncles bed for a good half of the first day, curled up under the blankets that still smelled like May’s favorite perfume. The trio had stayed within ear shot out in the living room, talking quietly among themselves about the case they’d been working on outside of this ordeal. Peter came out of her room three hours later, curls every which way, clutching an old scrapbook to his chest as if it were some wonderous treasure. Sidled up to his new caretakers side, smooshed between the three of them, they explored every page. The first quarter was of him and a couple that none of them had ever met; his parents.
The first one was of his mom and him, the thumb was thought to be his dad’s, she was beaming up at the camera with tiny Peter bundled in her arms. There were pictures of him and his uncle from the holidays when he’d been younger, him and his aunt ‘baking’ in the kitchen, pictures for all occasions.
Together they boxed up a lot of the nick-knacks and junk. Pillows and blankets were stuffed into large vacuum bags and shrunk down, Karen was given the task of going through Aunt May’s clothes, with Peter’s help, they sorted out what to give to charity and into storage.
The quilt from their bed had been folded and put into a box with the things that Peter was bringing back to the apartment with him, along with a quarter empty bottle of her perfume so that the quilt’s smell wouldn’t fade for some time to come. Some pictures of her and Ben were carefully wrapped up in their frames and other various items were included, outside of the things in Peter’s room.
Peter and Matt turned the keys into the office on the morning of the third day.
…
(Peter started going back out as Spiderman, Matt as Daredevil, a week after cleaning out the apartment. The go around was weird at first, rules had to be set, curfew put into place, as Peter was still only fifteen, but they made it work.
Two months later and things were falling into place as perfectly as things could fall into place.
And enter Ironman.)
…
Peter was doing better, there was still rough days of course, but he was getting there. Being back at the grind as Spiderman helped in more ways than originally imagined. The rush of swinging from building to building was enough to clear his head of all thought and the open air was expansive in ways that being stuck on the ground was not.
He perched happily on the edge of his favorite skyscraper munching on a candy bar he’d snuck from Foggy’s bag in the office some two hours ago, kicking his feet back and forth with the sway of the wind at this altitude.
The sun had since set over the bay and the city lights illuminated everything around him.
He didn’t have to guess who it was when he heard the deep thumps of metal landing on the weather worn building behind him. A surge of anger struck him at the man’s being here, where had he been at the beginning, when shit had started to hit the fan? He secretly wished Matt were here so he could see Devildad beat the other man up.
Or Wade.
That would be more entertaining than watching Daredevil throw punches.
“Hello Spiderman.”
“Mr. Stark.”
Peter refused to turn around to greet him, that teenage grudge holding part dug its nails in, and he took another bite of his candy bar. He could hear the suit opening up and the sound of shoes hitting the cement under them, he’d gotten out of the suit, at least he was here at all though, considering.
“Where the hell have you been kid?”, of course he’d come to rant at him, Peter was such a bad kid, and he rolled his eyes to show as such, “You up and disappeared! And you ignoring my calls now! I would have thought that Hot Aunt would have taught you some manners, kid.”
Perhaps in the past he would have made a comment about calling his aunt ‘hot’ in front of him. But that was still a touchy subject matter and he felt his breath catch.
“Do you have anything to say for yourself?”
“You’re not my dad.”
That statement stopped Tony up short, his continuous rant dying slightly on his lips, at the growl that emanated from the kid. Peter ignored his calls for weeks, sending them all to voicemail, and in apology, he mouth’s off.
“You’re not even my guardian.”
The spiderling finished off his candy bar and hopped up, spinning on his heel, and though his mask was only high enough for him to snack Tony knew that those bright eyes were glaring at him from under the fabric, he could feel the burn of it, the glare was so intense.
“So I don’t think you should talk to me like that.”
His eyes narrowed. “Kid you should- “
“Let me rephrase?” Peter waved him off, cutting him off mid-sentence, tugging the mask down over his chin again. “You don’t get to scold me like you’re something important.”
“Peter Benj—”
“Mr. Stark, if you must know, I didn’t ignore your calls. I blocked them. My phone sends blocked numbers to voicemail automatically. I don’t ignore my friends when they call me when I know that they wouldn’t unless it was an emergency. Unlike some people I know.”
“Peter! What has gotten into you? Don’t think Aunt May won’t be hearing about this!”
He scoffed and pretended to check his nonexistent watch on his list wrist, “Good luck with that Mr. Stark. I’m awfully sorry to cut this pow-wow short but I need to get back before he comes hunting.”
Peter mock saluted and jumped backwards off the edge of his perch. He was fifteen minutes late getting home on this fine school night and Matt somehow gave him the second worst disappointed stare he’s ever had the misfortunate of seeing, despite him being blind.
Aunt May was the first. Obviously. Her disappointed stare would tear him apart from the soul.
The trio of teenagers knew something was up when they came back to the apartment after school that Friday and Matt was swearing loudly into his cell phone on the couch, the paperwork Foggy had finished laying spread out on the table.
Tony Stark was petitioning for guardianship over Peter Parker.
Claiming that Matthew Murdock was unfit to care for the needs of a teenager as if he himself was some sort of guru on the matter. He, who hadn’t wanted kids until meeting this one, was more adept.
MJ muttered something about it being a bit on the discriminatory side and projected his views as an ableist for all to see, she swore she’d mention it in her blog, and Peter was once again reminded as to why she was one of his best friends.
“Matt, can he…can he?”
The older vigilante rubbed a hand over his charge’s head, fingers threading through silky curls, phone being tossed to sit among the white of the papers on the table.
“Nope. You’re stuck with me kiddo.” He gestured with his free hand in what he knew to be the direction of his table where said garbage sat. “Your Aunt may not have been a lawyer, but she knew damn well what she was doing. It’s nearly as solid as Fort Knox. And inexplicitly detailed in the regards of guardianship post her untimely passing.”
Peter felt a sense of relief run through him.
Relief and anger.
How dare he try this! And try to discredit Matt at the same time!
Foggy nodded in agreement with his friend and Partner, he’d read the Will of May Parker dozens of times. She would have been great to have on as their partner had she gone to law school. There was little to no chance of finding a loop hole in her dictation of the placement of her underage nephew and to whom he was meant to go to. She’d even had the brain to get the guardianship papers drawn, signed, and witnessed, separately from her Will too. For all intents and purposes Matt had technically been her dearest nephew’s guardian for three weeks before her passing, if one were to really read into that fine print.
Ned and MJ had agreed, in a silent sort of eye roll way that they all knew went somewhat over Matt’s head, they knew he knew they’d rolled eyes but for the reasons was only unspoken between them. Foggy had promised to read the suit carefully and thoroughly though they were sure there was nothing substantial to be found in the complaint.
Stark was just mad that someone had told him ‘no’.
That didn’t stop the kids from enacting their own revenge later that night when Matt had turned in for the evening and left them to their semi-own devices. He wouldn’t trust three teenagers as far as he could throw them and most certainly not with the brains those three had, he was new to this guardian thing, but he was no idiot.
Ned hacked back into the suit while their adult supervision slept, moving and mimicking the files of KAREN while Peter programmed a new home for her to go, MJ keeping eye and ear out for their other resident vigilante. They transferred her over to a small ear bug, like a blue tooth A.I., and he’d gotten together with Matt’s buddy who made him a new suit.
A Walmart bag was produced, and the suit folded nice and neat, and the bag tucked into his backpack for school the next day and off to bed they went. MJ took Peter’s bed at his insistence while he and Ned took up the living room floor. Matt would feel them there before he tumbled over them if he were to wake in the night.
“I don’t know what you three did.”, he pointed his finger in their general direction the following morning, “But no revenge seeking.”
“Never!”
“Insulted by my own blood.”
“Whatever.”
They wouldn’t seek such trivial things in life anyway. At least not with others knowing about it.
“And if any of you get arrested then make sure your first call is to your lawyer.”
Ned snorted, MJ smirked, and Peter choked on a laugh, “But Matt…You are our lawyer.”
“Don’t remind me you hoodlum.”
He parted ways with them down the block, listening as they continued on their way down the sidewalk towards the subway station until they disappeared into the crowd underground, before turning in the direction to their office.
Valeria White, front desk secretary to Stark Industries, wasn’t sure what to think of the trio of teenagers that showed up that morning with a tied shopping bag with what looked like a jumper or a blouse tucked up nicely inside, and their request that it go straight up to the Head and with the message of ‘Fuck ya chicken strips!’ but she promised to do it anyway.
The one boy looked vaguely familiar.
…
(The news of Mr. Stark suing Matthew Murdock for custody of Peter Parker spread like wild fire. And his already damned life in that dreaded high school became even worse once it spread through the student body and staff. Though the teachers had the decency to be sneaky about it, he knew that they too were pointing and whispering, and it didn’t take his spider powers to notice.
They were as subtle as a brick wall.)
…
“Hey, Penis, who’d your aunt have to sleep with to get them to adopt you!”
He knocked Flash out with one square punch to face. Peter was called to the office and Flash was escorted to the nurses office. His guardian was called, and Matt didn’t look happy to have been pulled away from the case they’d been working on and the new one that Mr. Stark had thrown in their laps, but he came and listened.
Peter knew that his anger turned more so towards Flash in the few minutes he’d been in that office then should be possible.
“This school has a no tolerance policy to bullying and yet you sit here and lecture my kid, who has been targeted ruthlessly since the beginning of last year?”
Peter wasn’t sure how he knew about all of that considering it was before his time, but he was thankful for it. Let them feel the fear that came with an angry Matt Murdock. Fear him.
“And yet we have no documented reports, no disciplinary action, we have nothing. You’re lucky we aren’t pressing charges for this lack of attention and such a blind eye to endangerment.”
And like that they were done there. Peter was still suspended for two days but was welcome back come Monday. Just because Matt had talked the principle (read: intimidated) out of further action didn’t mean that he was in the clear himself and Spiderman now had a curfew for the next week to come.
…
(Mr. Stark had tried to come to the apartment that weekend with a CPS investigator who skipped out on getting the proper paperwork in the shock that Tony Stark had come to them and requested an in home check, and Matt slammed the door in their faces.)
…
The trial for the contest of May’s will and guardianship pass was a week after the incident at school, it wasn’t a long trial, May was not known for doing anything half-assed and her paperwork was pretty tightly locked. Peter was the one thing that meant more than life itself to her and she had made sure that he would be left with someone who absolutely had his best interest at heart, and Tony Stark was many things, she knew he cared for her nephew, but she also knew that he just wasn’t parent material.
Not yet.
He was going to be a great parent someday.
Just not yet.
The judge was an old friend of Uncle Ben’s, which may have worked in their favor, but was diligent in making his ruling based on fact and evidence.
Matthew Murdock was more than abled enough to care for a teenager.