A Dog's Bark

Peter loves being Spider-man.

Even when he comes home bruised every night, sometimes with a bunch of bruises or a stab wound, on unlucky nights even having some broken bones. However, ever since he told May of his little spidey secret, the woman decided to become his personal nurse. (Obviously, he didn’t actually tell her. She found out when he entered his bedroom window, as Spider-man, without checking if she was home or not. So, she enters his bedroom, sees Spider-man take off his mask to reveal her nephew. To say the least, she wasn’t pleased. People began to think Spider-man had retired when he didn’t go out in two weeks, but it was simply because May decided it to be the appropriate punishment after almost two years of being kept in the dark.)
However, as much as he loved her, he knew perfectly well that she had a mini heart attack every time he shows up with anything more serious than a bruise. He once showed up with a sprained wrist, and made the mistake of telling her how it happened because he blocked a blow directed to his chest. Afterwards, she kept panicking (“Peter! You could have been hit in the chest, which often leads to fractured ribs, which often lead to pulmonary contusions, which then lead to DEATH!”). Peter loved Aunt May to death, but if she kept it up, they’d both have grey hairs in less than five years.

So, going to Aunt May when injured wasn’t the best option. Ned was, as they learned way too late, extremely squeamish at the sight of blood. (Long story short, Ned passed out as soon as Peter revealed the wound he needed help with.) MJ made it clear that if they knew how to count, not to count on her. (“I have seriously zero idea of how to patch someone up, zero medical knowledge, and zero desire to see you die because of an infected wound. Don’t be an idiot and tell May, she’s a nurse.)

So, that only left one option.

The first time he had showed up on Tony Stark’s penthouse window, the man had screamed bloody murder (even though he’ll throughly deny it.) Once he realized it was only Peter, the genius instructed Friday to open the window for him, thinking the kid was only visiting. However, as soon as he saw the wounds and bruises littering the boy’s body, he immediately called Dr. Cho. (Although Peter may or may have not collapsed not soon after, but thankfully and as always, Mr. Stark was there to catch him.) Peter had woken up on the couch, covered in bandages, with Star Wars playing in Mr. Stark’s huge television and supported on a pillow that suspiciously moved and smelled a lot like motor oil and some kind of expensive cologne. He didn’t have time to look up, as soon as the man felt Peter move, his hand automatically found its way into Peter’s curls and began playing with the boy’s hair, causing him to relax. Peter gave off a content sigh, and then proceeded to get the best sleep of his life.
Obviously, the next morning he woke up on the couch with a blanket draped over him and the fluffiest pillow he’d ever slept on. (This time, it was an actual pillow, not a tired out genius.) He stretched over happily, until his little heaven was disturbed by a pillow being thrown at him. He grumbled, until Mr. Stark told him “Squirt, hurry up or you’ll be late for school.”
As if he had been zapped, he took a quick look around the place to make sure he had forgotten nothing (Had he brought his backpack with him? The answer was no.) and once he made sure, he opened the window, yelled a quick “See you later, Mr. Stark!” and swung his way home.

He was pretty sure he had just set a personal record, so when he got home and found out it was actually Saturday, he was not amused.

However, he was completely sure of one thing: he trusted Tony Stark with his life.

///

Even though Peter Parker was not a hundred percent human, his behavior was. He watched movies with Ned, talked with MJ, participated in Decathlon class, and said funny comments every once in a while. Sometimes, when he was in a good enough mood, he would even stand up to Flash (only verbally, of course.) Peter Parker was not a cool kid, but he wasn’t a typical outcast either. Except for the bit of spider DNA that roamed through his veins, he was an average teenage boy.

And like every teenage boy that has ever existed, he too, wanted a dog at some point. He remembers his parents taking him to some friend’s house. A friend who had a dog. Peter doesn’t remember much, he was very young, maybe five or six years old. He does not remember the dog’s breed or the friend’s name. He just remembers having a ton of fun. How couldn’t he? The dog was probably young, so it too, had a ton of energy. Put together an excited little kid and a very happy, young dog, and you have the perfect way of tiring them both out. At the end of the day, Peter fell asleep, and woke up in the car, without having been able to have said goodbye to his newest friend. His parents had promised him they’d take him to their friend’s house again, but sadly the plane crash happened not long after.

The next times Peter interacted with dogs were all in the park, with Uncle Ben and Aunt May. When he was eight, they went to the park at least once a week. And every time, there were dogs roaming about. Peter absolutely loved them. He didn’t get close every time, but more often than not, his uncle saw his face and knew what he wanted better than even Peter did. With a chuckle, he’d approach the dog and their owner, and ask the person behind the leash if the dog bit (the universal sign for “can I pet your dog?”). By the time Ben had gotten an answer, however, Peter was already petting the dogs. Never did one dog bite him, (when he told MJ and Ned the story, MJ called him a liar. “There’s no way no dog has bitten you. Have you seen Chihuahuas? These little demons will bite anything and everything.”) however he never liked meeting dogs in the park because of how little time he got to spend with them. It was only a few pets and then goodbye.

(His favorite dog at the park was a Golden Retriever named Rosie whose owner was a kind old lady named Veronica. They always happened to meet, and once they saw each other more than three times, they actually introduced each other. Afterwards, Veronica would bring them all some home baked cookies, Peter would bring some treats for Rosie, and Ben and May would bring sandwiches for all of them (two for Peter because piece by piece, he always gave his to Rosie.) However, their encounters stopped after Veronica passed away, and Rosie was passed on to Tyson, Veronica’s son, and they moved to Washington.)

The next time Peter interacted with a dog was the first time he went to Ned’s house, when he was about ten. As soon as Ned opened the door to enter his house, vicious barking could be heard. Peter expected a lot of things, so when he entered, only to find a dog whose entire length from mouth to tail could be maximum the size of his forearm, he was very surprised. He immediately tried to pet the little vicious demon, ignoring Ms. Leed’s warnings. “Peter, be careful, Mr. Cuddles is a very old dog and he—“ Cue the sound of an enraged Chihuahua, a very surprised yelp, and Ned’s laughter.

To say the least, Peter loved dogs. And most dogs (except stupid Mr. Cuddles) seemed to love him back.

So, obviously, it didn’t take a lot of time for Peter to ask Ben and May for a dog of his own. He was about thirteen, and still remembers their reactions when they asked what he’d like for his birthday and how their faces dropped when they heard what their nephew was asking for.

“Peter… we.., uh… We can’t have a dog, bud.” His uncle had said. “Petey, honey, our house is too small for a doggy to be happy, baby.” May had told him. Peter looked up at her in confusion. “Dogs need to have a big space to be able to be happy, they need a lot of toys and special cares.”

“I’m sure it’s no problem! I’ll take it to the park every day, I’ll play with it! I will be the best dog owner New York will ever see! I’ll save up my allowance to be able to buy toys for it, and take it to the vet.” His enthusiasm didn’t decrease through his explanation. However, it did when he saw how they didn’t seem as excited as him.

“You know what? Don’t worry, bud. I’ll begin to work extra hard, so we’ll be able to buy ourselves a house, with a lawn and a backyard. And as soon as we get that house, we’ll get our dog. We’ll be a family. Us three, and a dog.” Uncle Ben had said, smiling down at Peter and ruffling his hair. “How does that sound, champ?”

Peter hasn’t smiled that wide ever since.

Soon enough, it became a when, not an if. They kept making up perfect scenarios in their heads. “When we buy our new house…” they would all say. Ben always said he’d spend the day outside, looking at birds or bugs. May said she would take up planting, (“I've always wanted an avocado tree!” she would say.) and Peter fantasized all day long of his soon-to-be dog. What breed it would be, what they’d play.

However, Ben’s death came true before their promises did.

And of course, the only thing that made noise in the background of the scene of Uncle Ben bleeding out on the ground, was a dog’s bark.