Settling In
To be quite honest in the time of him arriving and dinner coming along felt like it was both incredibly short, but painstakingly long, some kind of fucked up paradox really. He managed to lay back on the worn-down twin bed, his back to the wall as he stared to another one just across from him. There was this ringing in his ears, the silence refusing to remain. How could it? His family is dead. "All because of me."
At some point in his self-loathing, as he floated through the situation he put on some random playlist. Finding a song that stuck out to him. He replayed again, and again, and again, and again, and again, and again until the sound of the door opening rang. Because he faded into the white noise of the Wallflower’s song, it sounded so loud in his ears. He couldn’t help but jump slightly as his head twisted to look over at the other young man who now stood in the doorway. That must be Marcus. The kid who Ms. Hyde didn’t seem entirely sure about; he could only wonder why.
“Oh shit, sorry. Ms. H must have left out that I have a new roommate.” He smiled at Peter, who doesn’t know it yet but looks as though he was run over by a train. His eyes now trained on the new person in the room, the previous ringing subsiding, and finally his voice returning as he sat up a little straighter, voice soft as he spoke, “Uh, it’s alright. I just got here an hour or so ago." he shrugged as he stared up at the giant that is Marcus.
The older kid was clearly over six foot, with dark skin, who looked fit but not the kind of person who feels to make their healthy habits known to the world, more like a casual thing. Peter can respect that. Marcus smiled at him in a way that made him feel like he didn’t have to be as tense as he was, raised his arms up as if to show off the place, “Well welcome to the club newbie,” the way he spoke was so comfortable, so used to it, so okay with it. How long has he been here? Marcus spoke up again, “My name is Marcus. Marcus Jones, but people around here call me MJ.” “Like Michael Jackson?” MJ offered an even bigger smile, “Yep.” He popped the ‘p’ and in that moment it was everything Peter needed.
MJ’s eyes scanned over his still packed bags on his bed, but didn’t mention them to Peter and to be honest, Peter was happy that he didn’t. Instead they met each other's eyes again, “Dinner time is coming up in like fifteen. Got here on chicken nugget day, not a bad day to start out on.” The casual but subtle excitement over chicken nuggets got Peter to break in a small smile for the first time in twenty-four hours. A small bit of light to break up the constant dark, so Peter quipped “Well processed food is pretty good, no matter how bite sized.” MJ let out a chuckle and nodded, “Processed is the way to go. Are you even eating chicken nuggets if they aren’t?” Peter shook his head, “No, I don’t think so.”
“Well I’ll be out there for the oh so righteous commute over some fake chicken.” MJ threw it, but Peter hit it right back over to him, “I hope they look like dinosaurs.” With another huff of air as a type of chuckle, MJ turned to leave, “See you soon then.” he offered Peter a silent wave as he passed through the doorframe to leave. It was like a portal though. Marcus seemed to take all the warmth and small joy Peter felt when he was around him. It took him a bit of time to get up, throw something in the drawers for later, and push his remaining belongings under the bed. Then finally breaking the barrier of the portal from earlier and stepping into an entirely different ecosystem.
Soft thuds and noises could be heard from other rooms, younger boys chasing each other around, some light yelling at them to calm down and take a seat for dinner. The mutterings and groans of other teenagers. Laughs as jokes were passed around. It all grew louder, warmer with each step he took to it. He wouldn’t really be able to describe the scene either. To be completely honest it wasn’t like the dystopian orphanages they show off in movies. Quietly he took his seat at the table as he watched the two young boys be wrangled up and poured back out onto the seat's, courtesy of Ms. Hyde. One boy chuckled while the other groaned and pouted at his sudden lack of chaotic moving.
Just in time to keep the tantrum at bay plates for each small boy were placed in front of them. Wow. Wow. Kids can eat fast. Did he eat that fast when he was seven? Who knows, he probably did. Suddenly Ms. Hyde was plopping down plates in front of everyone, including Peter, of course. But he stared at his plate. That’s right. Food is a thing he needs; how could he forget? Maybe it was just the constant thought of May running through his mind. Maybe it wouldn’t have been a sudden worry had he not also forget that he’s a super human, with a super human metabolism, and someone who needs to eat like half of their body weight. This many chicken nuggets and fries would unfortunately not be enough, easily. His stomach growled silently.
MJ noticed him staring down and hummed, “I know it’s not a lot, but you get used to it after a while.” He pointed out and Peters head practically shot up to look over at him, clearing his throat to speak, “Oh no, it’s not that. Just thinking is all, but thank you so much for it.” Marcus didn’t suppress his smile, “Hey don’t worry about it. It’s no hassle.” He told him across the table, taking a bite out of the nugget in hand dramatically. That warmth was once again there for Peter. It felt like he could smile, knowing that this was better than nothing. At least he wasn’t out on the streets or anything.
Peter finally picked up one of his fries, thinking while he took slow bites. He had to see if he could at least trick his body into feeling full. But he forced his mind away from that and onto something a bit more prying. Spider-Man. A version of him that he liked to think was incredibly important. Sure, he stopped muggers, most of the time, but he also did so much more as Spider-Man than what so many people realize.
He’ll never forget the night he came across a girl. She was standing on the edge of a building, looking out over the town, she couldn’t have been older than him. Her tears dried on her face as she prepared to jump, but was obviously so conflicted about the choice.
”Excuse me ma’am?” he spoke in a quiet voice as he looked to the girl he stood behind. She nearly jumped right off from him accidentally scaring her, “Whoa! Whoa! I’m sorry-” He was cut off, “Spider-Man? What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be like, stopping a mugging or something?” She questions, nerves had filled her obviously as she watched him carefully. He cleared his throat, slowly moving forward, “Ah, just finished one. I was going to come up here and see if I could spot anything else that needed my attention and well, here I am.”
The girl huffed and gave him quite the look, “Well you shouldn’t focus on me. There’s more important things and I’ll be out of everyone's hair soon enough.” She moved to turn after alluding to her own demise, and he took this as an opportunity to get a few more steps closer, “Hey,” he spoke, “You are worth it. That’s why I’m here. I save lives it’s, you know, my job.” He smiled at her through his mask, hoping she would feel in the clear enough to fully turn back to him, but she didn’t, “Well I don’t want to be saved. Not today.”
There was a feeling in that moment, one clawing at him through his neck that slowly spread, “Well,” he stumbled over his words slightly, “Will you at least tell me what’s wrong?” Her answer was quick and sharp, “No.” His desperation was starting to make itself known to him. He was terrified in the moment and wasn’t quite sure what to do. Sure, he had friends that would harm themselves, but he never stood face to edge with anybody. In the moment he did the only thing he knew and that was to gently reach for her wrist, “Please-”
With a sharp smack he stumbled, and so did she. Her footing lost after using so much force. She fell back. Falling so quickly to the ground. He had to save her, that’s his job. Peter didn’t even know how fast he was in that next part. Shooting up straight as he reached over the edge and shot a web, sticking to her wrist, while she grabbed onto the web.
As he pulled her up, she was shaking, hyperventilating, and in general hysterics because she almost died. Some might say that she was going to anyway, but Peter knew that being suicidal and completing the deed are two different things. He held her and let her cry into the mixed clothes that was his suit.
By the end of that night he took her to the police who treated her after that. Those are the people who need him. Those are the people who need Spider-Man. He can’t give up his second life, but how was he going to get around it? Were there cameras around this place? Outside maybe? Would they find out that he is Spider-Man? There were so many questions and not nearly enough answers. Maybe he can ask Marcus? Ms. Hyde seemed so warily of him, so maybe he snuck out a time or two.
By the time he came from his inner monologuing he realized he was barely halfway done while the rest was pretty much finished and moving onto chores. As he huffed a few colorful words out in the air he practically inhaled the rest of his food and stood, going to rinse it off and put it up in the dishwasher where MJ stood. Peter was quiet and he looked around them really quick before clearing his throat which MJ raised a brow at, “Uh, hey?”
The other smiled down at him, “Hey. How was dinner?” Peter hummed, doing a so-so motion with his hand, “Decent but I’m not sure anything can beat the golden arches.” That earned a chuckle out of Marcus, “Yeah I can’t fault you there buddy.” He nodded as he helped put away dishes from the sink. Peter having no idea how to continue the conversation in a way he wanted just simply spewed out, “So what do you do for fun?”
Poor wording? Probably. Yet Marcus didn’t seem too phased by it as Peter would have thought, “Well in what sense? I do a lot of things for fun Peter.” He teased out at him. Peter had no idea how to respond without tacking on a series of um, well, and I mean before finally muttering out awkwardly, “Like do you guys go outside here?”
Nodding thoughtfully MJ let out a small hum of understanding, “I know what you mean now. No, we’re not allowed to without anyone else accompanying us.” He glanced around quickly before leaning in, “But this place doesn’t have any cameras and our window is the best to get in and out of without being noticed.” He flashed a large smile at Peter and Peter gave one right back. This meant that he could at least continue to be the hero that everyone needed. That fact gave him some relief, and even more knowing that he has easy access to the outside world.
As he finished up though worry clawed his way through him. Would this come back to hurt him again? Would his Parker luck find a way to seep through and ruin it all for him? Ruin it for the people that really and truly needed him? He could only hope for the best. Wait, his webbing. How was he supposed to make more? Just hope it would end up coming out of him? God no, that’s gross. He blinked and shook his head, biting the inside of his cheek as he thought. Finishing the dishes he quickly moved to head to his new room, on the way he sent Ms. Hyde a quick smile.
He successfully rushed off into his room. Pulling out his suitcase from under his bed and onto the bed. Pulling out his laptop which had just enough charge to start picking away through maps, routes, and everything else. The street, the block, the everything. He used to make his webbing at his school, maybe he was close enough. News flash, he was not. Not even by a long shot. Bits of dread started to make its way through, that familiar lightheadedness and quickness of his breath as he looked at the maps.
Nothing. There was no school with a decent enough science program to have what he needs, no businesses or research facilities to intern at. Nothing. Of course there was nothing. He is Peter Parker after all. That and nothing is ever easy. He huffed and shut his laptop, running a hand down his face.
“What’s got you all feisty Parker?” he looked up at MJ who now stood in the doorway, leaning on the frame. He let out a huff and shook his head before responding, “Just trying to look for something that isn’t around these parts.”
Marcus nodded, “I get it, been there too.” He stepped in and shut the door behind him, “Mind if I turn off the lights?” He shrugged meekly, “Go for it.” And then suddenly the room was dark, like really dark. It’s already night? He hadn’t noticed. Of course the light pollution still poured through in this city, but it doesn’t matter. He thought as he stared at the window. He can deal with it, and so can Marcus it seems. Who managed to change in the time Peter was staring at the window, which only came to light when asked, “You alright? You’ve been staring out of the window for a while now.”
He never really noticed how long it had been, to him it just felt like a few moments. He turned his head to watch Marcus climb in bed. MJ sat up on his bed and turned to look back at Peter and smiled, “I’m gonna be real, first night is always the hardest,” His voice seemed to trail and go soft, hidden empathy behind his words, “If you want, I can stay up with you. Keep your mind off of things.”
Peter just shook his head, “No it’s fine. Really. You need sleep just as much as the rest of us. Approximately eight hours according to scientists.” He quipped lightly. Marcus nodded, “That goes for you too.” Peter hummed and turned his head to the wall, “I’ll get some sleep no worries. I just don’t like strangers being awake and in the same room as me when I sleep.” “And if I said the same thing?”
“I’m the new kid.”
“Fair play.” They both chuckled softly, Marcus shifting to lay down before pausing, “You sure?” Peter nodded, “I am.”
Soon enough Marcus was asleep. Peter could tell because he could hear his breathing slow under the sounds of distant cars in the empty room. He looked around. It was a pretty basic room. Square, his bed to the left of the room when he faced the door, and Marcus’ to the right. A large window with a ledge having its own little indent in the wall. A desk with a small clutter of papers rested on Marcus’ side of the room. What seemed to be sketches, and letters or poems, or something in a similar format, was under tacks on the wall or other papers.
It reminded him of his old desk, but instead full of papers for school, rebuilt tech, papers of formulas for his webbing. Aunt May's sticky notes that she would put up to remind Peter of things, and how much she loved him, and that they were going somewhere, or to congratulate him, and he let her die.
He let out a shaky sigh and scratched at his forearm in a stressed and anxious manner as he stared at the ground in silence. What has he done? He’s the last one of his family left because he let her die. He let her die. He let her die. He let-
“Peter!”
He jumped as he was taken out from his thoughts, head snapping up to look at Marcus with wide eyes. His arm was scratched red, tears were flowing out of his eyes like an endless river while he struggled to catch his breath.
The other boy stood up and quickly walked over worriedly. Taking a seat next to Peter as he wrapped an arm around him gently, “You don’t have to talk about it. I’m here to help with your first day through it,”
“But-” “No, no but’s. I’ll be here for you when you need me, and now is obviously one of those times.” His voice grew soft at the next line,
“You don’t have to go through this alone.”