forty-eight.
Peter pulls his jacket closer to his body. He's not really dressed for the weather, purposely only wearing a thin jacket despite the thick snow. He left early this morning to avoid seeing his parents and getting scolded for his lack of preparation for the day. He took a total detour from school after he got off of the train, walking in the totally opposite direction.
He wanted to see Aunt May. He wanted to know why she was avoiding him so strongly. He deserved to know why she suddenly didn't seem to want him anymore, and he was going to get answers, dammit. He was done letting her push him away. He was done being tossed aside with no explanation. He was gonna go in there and demand the answers that he deserved.
The fact that she didn't do so much as call for Christmas was the last straw for Peter. He understood that she might be busy sometimes, with work and whatever she does in her free time, but he doesn't see how it's any kind of fair for her to cut him out the way that she did. She raised him almost his whole life and now she treats him like he doesn't exist anymore, and he demands to know why.
He stands outside of her apartment building for a long minute, looking up at the floor that she lives on to hype himself up and go over his words one more time. He finally enters the building and takes the stairs two at a time up to her floor. As soon as he left the stairwell he could feel the nerves begin to build up, but he forced them back down.
He came up to her door and had finally had enough of being nice and calm. He knocked, or rather, banged on the door. "May! Hey May, it's me, it's Peter! Open up will you?"
The wooden door opened partially, but even through the small opening Peter could easily tell that something inside was wrong. He pushed gently on the door and called for May again. The door opened all the way, only stopping when it ran into the table against the wall behind it. May was nowhere to be seen. Peter could see the dust floating through the air and coating all of the furniture. It was abundantly clear that nobody'd been here in months.
If May wasn't here, then where the hell was she? Peter's eyes fell on the broken coffee table and he began to fear that the worst had happened to her. "May?!"
He began searching room to room, hoping that he wouldn't stumble upon her as a corpse. Since everything was covered in dust, it was fairly easy to see the clean spots where things had been moved from. May's phone and laptop were just two of the missing things, along with a couple of pairs of shoes, her whole jewelry box and some clothes from her closet. That must mean that May was still alive somewhere.
Figuring that he wouldn't be back here again for a while, he took his duffle bag from his room and his suitcase and stuffed them both full with most of the things that he left behind. He resorted to putting things in his backpack when he filled both of those up. He really had no intention of attending school today. He knew that by now his parents would all be out of the house, so it would be safe to go home.
He dug his phone out of his pocket and tried to hide the panic in his voice as he called Wade. Wade didn't answer, but he called again. This time he did answer, but all Peter could hear on the other end was gunshots and screaming.
He waited, anxiety only getting worse. He heard Wade curse before letting out three more rounds and then finally sighing into the receiver. "Petey! How's it going?"
Peter rubbed his forehead. "Can you pick me up? I need a ride home."
Wade chuckled shyly before speaking. "Yeaaaa, about that... I can't help. I'm not even on the same planet as you right now."
Peter wasn't mad about the ride, he was more ticked off that Wade left the GODDAMN PLANET and didn't even think to tell him that he was leaving. Wade continued to go on about he'd be back but he didn't know when.
The 'when' however, occurred in April, long after Peter had last heard from Wade at all.
At first, Peter worried, wondering if someone finally found a way to kill Wade, and then after a while, he let himself quit caring. He had better things to do. He had A's to make and he had parties to go to and he had missions to go on. Most important of all though, he had an Aunt to find, and he'd stop at nothing to do so.
That's what he was doing now. Sitting with Tony in his lab watching over the last known footage of May. They'd combed through 62 hours of footage so far, and there was no sign so far of what happened to her... Until Tony paused the bit of footage he was looking at on his laptop. You could see the conflict on his face.
"Peter? Hey, you may want to come and see this." Peter could hear the stress in Tony's voice, and it made him almost not want to see what he had on his screen. But he had to know. He had to know what happened to her, and if he'd ever see her alive again.
He walked around to the other side of the table and peered at the recording over Tony's shoulder. It showed the hallway outside of May's house. Six men in all black uniforms pulled her out of her apartment while she was kicking and screaming... Following behind the group, casting a quick glance at the camera... Was Wade.
The glaring through the mask was the last thing Peter saw before the Wade on recording shot the camera.
Tony watched the teen, worried now as Peter's face was completely expressionless. There was videographic evidence of the man that Peter had been seeing, seemingly kidnapping the boy's only living relative.
Tony watched as the boys face transformed through several different emotions in linear succession. First confusion, then sadness, then anger, then grief, then anger and confusion again.
Tony slowly rose from his chair, reaching a hand out to the young boy, who seemed crippled by his emotions. Cautiously, he touched the boy's shoulder. Peter crippled for real, face crumbling as the emotions overwhelmed him in confusing surges, all blurring together and crashing against him like 30-foot waves.
He begins sobbing, curling tightly in on himself, hands clutching at his chest. Tony pulls the boy tightly to his own chest as he sobs, scratching at his own skin in a fit of desperation and rage as he cries, screaming out in angry agony. He keeps repeating himself, screaming out, 'Why, why, why?!"
Why did Wade do this? Why did Wade take her? Why did Wade betray him? Why? Why? Why?
Tony wished he knew the answer, but all he could do was hold this boy, hold his son, hold him tightly.
He let the boy cry, he let the boy wail and fight and sob. He let the boy grieve for the only family he'd ever known before... The only family that could very well be gone.
...And then his cries were over as suddenly as they began, and he was dead silent, eyes shifting as if he was listening for something. And he was. Very faintly Peter could hear the vibrations of his cell phone. He stormed over to it and ripped it out of his jacket pocket.
One look at the name on the screen made him look extensively furious, then he changed his expression to look happy as ever. "Wade? Oh, back are you? It's nice to hear from you, it's been a while."
Tony couldn't hear the other end of the conversation, but he listened as Peter set up a meeting with Wade somewhere obscure at some strange time tomorrow. Once they hung up, Peter gathered his things, and very calmly said, "I need to talk to Bucky as soon as I get the chance."
And then he walked out of the lab, leaving Tony slightly terrified.