#for the record i played the echoes update and then entered a haze for a few hours trying to process everything LOL

[alfheimr]

erosion

[monaisme]

One Week Later - Chapter 5

This is the sequel to my one-shot, “The Battle”

Mrs. Stark was seated on the couch, her back to Peter as she spoke affectionately to someone on her phone. She was obviously preoccupied and missed his quietly entering the room, as she continued talking. “I know you want to see me, sweetheart, and I miss you, too—so desperately, but things are a little crazy right now.” A pause. “I know that I promised you a special date just the two of us, but I can’t get away from the city until things are settled and you know this.” Another pause. “Morgan, please—“

In his haze, Peter registered the name, Morgan, and almost wondered who he was? The lethargy that had washed over him weighted him where he stood and he almost felt like he was supposed to react to Mrs. Stark’s words, be curious at least? But he could barely...

FRIDAY interrupted the moment. “Apologies for the interruption, Mrs. Boss, but Boss is on his way up.”

Mrs. Stark called out a quick, “Thank you, FRIDAY,” then came back to her call. She muttered a tender, “I’ve gotta go. I love you, baby,” and hung up the phone. She stood up from the couch and gasped, her hand flying to her chest as she noticed Peter for the first time. “Oh! Peter! How long have you been standing there?” Her cheeks flushed pink as she hid her phone behind her guiltily.

He heard her question, shrugged in reply, and looked down at the floor as he tried to process that he couldn’t process what was happening in that moment. The almost indifference was giving way to discomfort as his brain tried to filter out the garbage bogging him down. “Um, I’m sorry. I didn’t want to interrupt... it seemed important?”

She looked uncomfortable, at least to Peter, but he really wasn’t sure of anything in that moment. “Peter, I should explain—“ She gestured to her phone she’d brought forward, but her words were cut off when the elevator doors in the penthouse foyer opened and footsteps echoed on the marble floor.

Mr. Stark entered the living room and grinned big. “Ah, my beautiful family! Exactly the people I wanted to see!” he announced. “I have news from the med bay!”

That tweaked something more in Peter, and his attention was diverted away from Mrs. Stark and the mystery Morgan to his mentor. “I can see May?” he asked quietly.

Mr. Stark nodded emphatically. “You bet you can, kid.” He laughed at something to himself then continued. “She was asleep when I got there so I had a chance to talk to the doc in person for an update. He was just getting around to telling me that we couldn’t come around today when May woke up.” Mr. Stark laughed a little harder. “Needless to say, you are definitely seeing her today.”

Peter felt what must have been the first spark of a real smile in ages. “Really?”

Mr. Stark took a step closer to the boy, then put a firm hand on his shoulder. “Of course, buddy. We’re just gonna give the nurses a chance to help her put on her game face and as soon as she’s ready, they’ll call, but for now...”  

Peter’s shoulders sagged under the weight of Mr. Stark’s hand as he realized, “Now we wait.”

Mr. Stark gave an oddly grounding squeeze and pulled Peter into a firm hug. “Yeah, bud. Now we wait... but she’s as eager as you, so it won’t be too long, I’m sure of it.”

Peter shivered as he pressed further into Mr. Stark’s chest. The haze of the last little while was lifting and he felt a little unsteady so he closed his eyes and breathed in as he clung to the one thing in his life that seemed to have changed the least.

“Hey, sweetheart, not going to hassle you, but did the shower help?” Mr. Stark whispered into his hair. “Are you feeling a little better now?”

He nodded a yes, choosing to ignore whatever it was that was going on with Mrs. Stark in order to address his previous outburst. “I’m so sorry about that, Mr. Stark. I’ll fix the wall. I promise.” He pulled back and shifted to peek around Mr. Stark to Mrs. Stark but refusing to let go. “And I’m sorry if I scared you earlier, Mrs. Stark. It won’t happen again. I swear... I don’t even...” He tried to explain that he wasn’t like that, that he didn’t know where the anger had come from—well, he did, but that didn’t mean he was allowed to show it— He huffed in frustration as he struggled to find the right words.

Mrs. Stark stepped closer, smiled softly, and stopped Peter’s apology before he could completely short circuit. “I know, Peter, and it really is alright. I know that you’d never hurt me, I was just surprised, is all. Thank you for the apology, though. I appreciate it... and don’t worry about the wall, please. It should be fixed by the end of the day.”

Peter felt his cheeks pink with embarrassment and he ducked back into the safety of Mr. Stark’s arms. “Thank you... and I’m still sorry.”

Mr. Stark gave him an extra squeeze in acknowledgement then said nothing more.

It was a few seconds later when Peter could sense movement behind Mr. Stark—then his humming and shaking his head in response to whatever it was that Mrs. Stark was apparently silently communicating to him.

“Pete?” Mrs. Stark spoke up. “We need to talk to you about—”

“Boss, Mrs. Parker is requesting Mr. Parker’s presence in the med bay.” FRIDAY alerted the room. “She has asked me to play back her request directly. She says, ‘Tony, if you make me wait a second longer than I have to to see my kid, I’m gonna tell Pepper about that time you—‘” FRIDAY cut off the recording. “Apologies for the disruption in playback, while you can gauge the seriousness of her request, per your ’Admit Nothing’ protocol, I have determined it is not in your best interest to play the entire recording, sir.”  

Mr. Stark snort laughed, “Thanks, FRI, you’re a gem,” he replied and hugged Peter tight one last time before letting him go. “Well, kid. You heard the AI! Aunt May is waiting!” Mr. Stark led him to the elevator.

Peter didn’t hesitate to follow and made it half way across the room when—

“Peter, can you wait a moment, please!” Mrs. Stark called out.

Peter cringed at the delay, but turned around to face her. “Um, okay?”

“Peter, I... we,” she glanced toward Mr. Stark, “We still need to talk to you about a couple of things—“

Peter was fighting down the impatience, and Mr. Stark must have seen it. He cut her off. “Pep. We can talk about this later on, can’t we? He’s been waiting a week and May will kill me literally dead if he’s not there soon.”

She looked flustered, and Peter almost cared, but she’d been hiding something earlier, now that Peter’s brain was firing back up he was sure of it—and he couldn’t make himself worry about it anymore, especially when he needed to get to May.

She paused, seemed to consider, and then, “Fine. But can we please make the time to talk about things later? Maybe over lunch?”

Peter was making no plans beyond the med bay, but he knew that wouldn’t fly so he agreed. “Yeah, sure. Lunch.” He looked between the two. “Can I go now?”

Mrs. Stark looked at her husband, who stared back goofily at her. She smiled, then he smiled, and like that, Mr. Stark was on the move with him again.

And then Peter wasn’t so sure he wanted the company anymore. “Mr. Stark, would it be okay if I went alone?”

“Are you sure you’re up for that? I mean, I know you’d be okay if you do go alone, but there could be a lot going on in that room that you may have questions about and I don’t want you to get overwhelmed.” Mr. Stark was concerned and had no issue with voicing it. ��I don’t have to stay for long, just until I know you’re comfortable, and—“

“And I appreciate that. I do. It’s just...” Peter wasn’t sure he could find the words to convey how badly he needed it to be just them. “Please?”

Peter could see Mr. Stark struggling with it. There was no good reason that Peter could think of for Mr. Stark to let him go alone except that he wanted it. And the man was right. He was already anxious and he hadn’t even made it to the elevator yet. Peter was about to give up on the request altogether when Mr. Stark broke into his thoughts.

“Fine, you can go alone, but you have FRI call me if you change your mind, okay? I’ll be there in two minutes. No questions. No judgement.”

“Really?” Peter asked.

“Yes, and we expect to see you back here for lunch when she gets tired of you, alright?” Mr. Stark teased.

“Yessir.”

Mr. Stark glared.

“Yes, Mr. Stark.”

“Alright then, you heathen, begone.” Mr. Stark pointed toward the elevator with a wink. “Don’t make me regret this. And you’d better tell Aunt Hottie that you’re kiss and grounding were both delivered as requested, got it? I told her but I don’t think she believes me.”

“I will.” Peter promised and then waited only a few seconds for the elevator doors to open and finally make his way down to the med bay. He focussed on the next while and how this reunion would go. Aunt May was going to be so happy to see him, he thought. It had been the two of them for so long, and he wished that she hadn’t had to go through all these years without him. But he was back now and things would get better. They had to, right? As the elevator descended, though, his thoughts started to twist. What if it wasn’t better? He knew logically that things were different now-- for him it had been a week and five years and forever and no time at all and all Peter knew was that he didn’t need to say a word to her; only wanted to curl up beside his favourite Aunt and never leave her again.

And she was sick.

The elevator doors opened and Peter froze.

Maybe he’d made a mistake?

“Mr. Parker, we have arrived at the med bay floor.” FRIDAY said.

Peter didn’t move, but he could feel himself getting worked up.

And so could FRIDAY. “Mr. Parker. While still within normal parameters, your breathing, pulse, and heart rate are elevating rapidly. Might I suggest a few deep breaths in order to regulate them?”

Peter still didn’t move... couldn’t move.

“Very well, initiating ‘Meltdown Management Mode’ now.”

The elevator doors closed and for a second Peter thought that the AI would return him to the penthouse and he’d lose his chance to see Aunt May, and his breathing picked up more. He gasped out a “no!”

The elevator stayed where it was, but its lights softened and the canned muzak that had played in the background was replaced by soothing ocean sounds. “Don’t be alarmed, Mr. Parker. Please try to match your breaths to the count, Mr. Parker.” FRIDAY instructed softly. “Breathe in, 2, 3, 4, and out 2, 3, 4, 5, and 6.”    

It took a couple of cycles, but eventually Peter picked up the rhythm and within a few minutes, Peter was feeling a little more like himself. “Um, thanks, FRIDAY,” Peter called out to the AI. “That was... unexpected.” And he didn’t know if he was talking about the freak out or the assist.

“Yes,” FRIDAY interrupted. “Due to the random nature of anxiety and panic attacks, Boss has found the protocol to be quite useful over the last five years. He will be glad to know that it has been of use to someone else.”

The thought of Mr. Stark knowing he’d freaked out AGAIN was not okay. That he couldn’t manage to make his way down a few floors without breaking down? “Yeah, um, FRIDAY, do you think you could not tell Mr. Stark about this? I mean, I’m fine, right?”

The elevator fell silent for a brief moment then, “When this protocol was first initiated, Boss required that Mrs. Boss was notified each time it was initiated. There is no specific protocol requirement for you, Mr. Parker. You’re vitals are indicating that you are still experiencing some stress, but they are steady and within normal parameters. I see no reason to report this at this time, but if Boss asks, I will be required to inform him.”

Peter could have slumped with relief... or exhaustion. The constant ups and downs were messing him up big time, and he hated it, but at least he’d remembered his manners. “Thank you, FRIDAY.

“You are welcome, Mr. Parker. Are you ready for me to open the elevator doors now?”

Peter steeled himself and then answered, “Please?”

“Of course,” the AI replied. “Enjoy your visit with Mrs. Parker.”

The doors slid open and Peter stepped out into the waiting room of what was his second home—well, third. First was May’s, then the penthouse with Mr. Stark, and then...

“Peter?”

He turned towards the familiar voice, smiling as he saw one of his favourite nurses walking towards him, “Lydie?” Her hair was cut shorter than he’d remembered it and was dyed a vibrant red. Definitely different, but still definitely her, thank goodness.

“Peter, you haven’t aged a day! Get over here!” She enveloped him in one of those awesome hugs she’d give him when he’d wake up from a nightmare in the middle of the night after he’d finally convinced May or Mr. Stark to finally go and get some sleep in their own beds. “I missed you so much!”

And Peter had exactly zero idea of what to say back. ‘You, too,’ wasn’t true. In his reality, he’d seen her two weeks ago when a he’d been triple-teamed by a trio of wanna-be ninja muggers with zero throwing star skills and just enough luck to land a star smack in the back at his shoulder blade. He mumbled a “Thanks,” and pulled away.  

He’d hoped she’d realize his discomfort, but Lydie was always one to talk and it seemed like this time was no different. She pointed down a hallway Peter didn’t think he’d ever been down before and started walking. “I know you’re here to see May so let me catch you up while I take you to her—so...”

Apparently it only took the length of a long hallway to find out about the life and times of all those who had been left behind. Peter tried to focus, but the moment Lydie had mentioned May again, his stomach had knotted and he did everything he could to use FRIDAY’s breathing techniques without being too obvious.

“...and here we go.” Lydie stopped walking and pointed into the closed door to the left. “Before you go in, though, we’re just gonna gown you up, okay?”

“What?”

She brought Peter over to a station stocked with gloves, gowns, caps, and masks. “Yeah, we want to be sure that we don’t bring any uninvited germs into the room with us while she’s already fighting this infection—or carry any out, for that matter.”

Peter almost recoiled. “I could make her more sick?” He hadn’t even thought about that and suddenly worried that his shower hadn’t been enough.

“Don’t be silly, Peter.” She chided him. “We’re only doing this as a precaution and I know how anxious May is to see you, so let’s go. Chop, chop.”

Peter got to it right away and tried not to feel ridiculous in his new oversized get up even as Lydie looked almost identical.

Lydie’s eyes smiled at him encouragingly. “Alright, are you ready?”

He didn’t answer, but she wasn’t waiting for him to as she pushed the door open and grabbed his arm to drag him inside with her.

“May, I hope you’re decent. You’ve got a gentleman caller here!” Lydie sang out softly as she peeked through the curtains surrounding her bed.

Peter heard the rustling of sheets and a groggy, “Wha—Lydie?”

Lydie glanced back at him, gestured for him to wait and ducked behind the curtain. “May?” Lydie whispered, quiet enough that it was only because of Peter’s enhanced hearing that he could make out the words. “May, can you wake up a little more? You dozed off on me.”

“Oh?” The sheets rustled some more. “Oh, no,” she gasped. “I didn’t mean to— is he gone? Did I miss him?“

A monitor beeped in warning.

“Shh, shh, shh. May, it’s okay. Take a deep breath. It’s fine. He’s waiting for the all clear before he comes in. I know he’s fallen asleep on you plenty of times so don’t sweat it.” Lydie really was the best.

Another beep, this one a press of something on a machine.

And then the sound of stifling tears.

“May, honey, oh. No-no-no, don’t do that, May. He’s back now.” Lydie comforted her, not bothering to lower her voice. “Peter’s just on the other side of the curtain and he thinks he’s hiding it, but he’s nervous, too.” Peter heard Lydie pull a tissue from a box and pass it to May.

May sniffed, then blew her nose and squeaked out, “Peter’s really here?”

“You know I wouldn’t lie to you, May, and he’s probably wondering what’s taking you so long.”

“Yeah.” May took a deep breath and then another. Peter could hear her and Lydie doing a last minute straighten up. “Okay.” May whispered. “How do I look?”

“Like a million bucks.” Lydie reassured her. “Now, can I open these curtains before he loses his mind?”

May must have nodded because the curtain was slowly dragged back to reveal the most important person in Peter’s universe, propped up in the bed and fussing with the long braid trailing down the front of her hospital gown.

And Peter stood there frozen, mere feet away from her bed, his mouth opening and closing like a fish behind the mask. “May?” The woman in front of him looked like a weak imitation of the woman he’d left only a week ago to head to school and that stupid MOMA field trip. The yellowed, swollen face and hands screamed sickness, punctuated by the heavy scent of medicated creams, antiseptic, and blood. They’d at least made an effort to disguise the various machines surrounding her, but the curtains and draped blankets couldn’t camouflage the nasal cannula—and the delicately flowered robe she wore over the medbay gown did little to hide the tubing still connected to her IV or the dialysis machine Peter guessed she’d been hooked up to since that call in Wakanda that morning. His stomach turned at the sight of it all so he concentrated again on her face. There, he could see the flush of fever in her cheeks and a glassiness in her eyes. She looked exhausted.

He didn’t know what to do.  

She looked just as stunned as Peter, though for completely different reasons. “Peter?” May stared at the boy and then scowled at Lydie. “I swear, Lydie, on the soul of my dead mother. If you don’t get all that shit off my kid so I can see him for real, I will make sure that you never find that stupid blush nail polish you swear by again—and I know people so I can make it happen.”

Lydie threw her hands up in apology. “May, you know that I can’t. Dr. Bonwick has orders—“

“I don’t care, Lydie.” she huffed. “I’ve waited too long to see that face.” May turned her attention back to Peter. “You heard me,” she pointed to his medical gear with a look of distaste. “All of that garbage off, now.”

He wanted to listen to her, honest, but she was sick and the reality of it had smacked him in the face. There was no way he’d risk—

“Peter.” Peter recognized the tone anywhere. It was the same tone that made sure his homework got done before patrol, that his bedroom was cleaned before heading to Ned’s, and that got wet towels off the bathroom floor and an apple in his hand before he ran out the door to school. Yeah. Peter knew better than to dawdle. The fabric gown and its accessories were in a laundry bin in the corner of the room in half a minute and he stood ready for inspection.  

May beamed with joy as she gazed upon him. “There’s my Peter,” she exclaimed. “Now get your ass over here and give me a hug before I lose my mind, you goofball.”

Peter rushed up to the bed, hesitating when he reached the railing of the bed. “Uh... what should I—“

Lydie, who’d tucked herself inconspicuously away to work in the corner of the room, came forward to help. “C’mon, Peter, you know as well as anyone how these beds work.” She teased as she did her nurse magic, lowering the railing.

“I know how the bed works,” he insisted as he tried to ignore the fear that one wrong move would hurt her. “I’m trying to be careful, is all.”

May was having none of that. “You couldn’t hurt me if you tried, sweetheart.” She leaned forward and opened her arms, now seriously. “Please?”

Peter was in her arms in a blink, fighting back tears as May finally gave in to hers. Neither of them said a word as they revelled in their reunion. Only a week and five years- five years- She’d waited for him for so long.

Peter whispered, “I didn’t mean to go, May, I swear,” as he burrowed into her.

She buried her face in his hair and tried to breathe in the scent of him, like she'd done his whole life. "I know, baby. I know." May reassured him. She shifted slightly, started pushing the pillows supporting her aside.

Peter panicked. "Oh! I'm hurting you! I'm so sorry!"  He pulled back and away, "I'm gonna—"

May grabbed his hand. "No, Peter. You're not hurting me at all. I just need to move- these- damn- pillows." She ground out the words while she tried to readjust.

"I can do it!" Peter declared, jostling the pillows about. “I’ll just—“ He shifted the pillows Aunt May, just a little, but the ones behind her seemed determined to keep her from completely relaxing, if he was reading her body language right. “Maybe if I—“ He slipped off the bed and started looking for the controls to set the bed at a better angle.

Lydie stepped in again, “Peter, here. Let me help—“

“No!” He replied loudly, surprising everyone in the room. He pressed on, moving May’s blankets in his hunt. “I’ve got this. I’m just gonna adjust the bed and make sure that May’s comfortable.”

“I know, Peter, but if I help—“

“Look, Lydie, I’ve got this, okay?” Not finding the controls, he moved around to the other side of the bed. “It’s the least I can do after all this time, right?” He tried to laugh at the little dig but sounded more like he was choking. They had to think he was losing his mind.

“Peter.” May called to him. “Come on. You’re fuss-farting around for a bed controller.” She patted the empty space beside her. “Let’s do a snuggle party like when you were little instead.” She held out her arms in welcome again and that was all Peter needed.

He clamoured up onto the bed again and tried to squeeze in beside her as she shifted to give him room, just like she’d asked.

Lydie watched the exchange sadly and smiled, “I’m going to give you two some time,” and exited the room. Peter was sure she hadn’t gone far.

“I remember you being smaller, buster.” She teased.

Peter rolled his eyes and chuckled. “Are moms obligated to say cheesy stuff like that? Like, is it in the secret mom rulebook?”

“Now, Peter,” she grinned slyly as she looked down at him. “You know if I told you, I’d have to kill you—now, c’mon.” She eased herself a little further to one side of the bed and sighed in brief relief as she settled. “Get closer.”

He did try. Oh, how he wanted to be held in her arms and have her tell him everything was going to be okay, but gentle teasing couldn’t hide the limitations of the IV tube he’d interrupt if he laid this way—or the access site on her other side if he shifted that way.

May giggled through a new round of tears as they struggled to find a hold that wouldn’t cause her harm. “Wow, if we ever thought we could ignore the elephant in the room, huh?”  

Peter stopped his wiggling. “May, don’t... I... I... ” He couldn’t speak so he sat himself up, twisting and turning away from her. He buried his face in his hands and started to tremble.

He was going to lose her.

He could feel her pulling herself up, trying to get closer to him. Peter jumped off the bed. “No! You need to lie down, May. Please.” He pressed her gently back into her pillow pile. “I’m gonna grab a chair, okay?”

“Peter, stop it. Get back up here,” she ordered, watching him work his way up to another freak out.

But he couldn’t... he just couldn’t.

Instead, Peter grabbed the straight backed chair rested against the wall and, in a flash, seated himself at her bedside. “Nah, I need you comfortable, May...” He grinned big and insincere, “And you know I’m a bed hog. Really! This is probably way better for you.” He focussed on his hands as they twisted at her blankets. “Just until you feel a little better, please?”

She didn’t bother to hide as her frustration shifted to concern. “Peter, please. I know this is strange,” She reached out to grab his hands, stopping him. “But we’re gonna get through this. Okay?”

Peter slid his hands out from under hers, then gently laid his on hers, but could say nothing. A part of him had thought that maybe... just maybe Mr. Stark had been overstating things so that Peter would find relief at things not being so bad. But Mr. Stark would never have done something like that. Peter had just been wrong. His vacillating between hope and impending doom stopped exactly then.

He knew all about Parker Luck, after all.

He gave May’s hands a squeeze, kissed them, then pulled away. He could feel the greasiness of lotion against his lips, and forced himself to ignore it. “You should lie down, May. I don’t want you to get more tired because of me.”

“Peter. I’ll worry about me, alright?” May lightly scolded. “But I’m also gonna worry about you, got it.” She cupped his cheek and tried to catch his eye. “We’ll need to talk about this eventually, sweetheart.”

He closed his eyes and prayed for strength, “I know...” he choked out. “But can it not be now?”

May didn’t say anything for a moment before agreeing. “Alright... but soon? Hiding your head in the sand does nothing but leave your butt exposed for that big kick in the pants you’re trying to avoid, and you know it.”

Peter nodded. He didn’t have a choice.

The last two Parkers clasped hands again and sat silent for a moment; May savoured his presence while Peter mourned hers.

Five damned years. Peter’s thoughts turned to Titan and failed attempts and how if he’d only gotten the gauntlet.

A series of beeps sounded from one of the hidden machine, startling the two from their thoughts.

“Holy crap!” Peter jumped as he threw his hand to his chest, knocking over his chair in the process. “What’s wrong?” He scanned his aunt, not seeing why the alarm was suddenly going off. “Did I do something?”

“Calm down, Peter. That means my dialysis is done for today.” She reached for his hand. “It alerts whoever’s on shift that they can unhook me.”

Lydie entered the room again without a word and pulled a blanket off the machine closest to the bed.

Peter looked away.

“I’ll be quick, folks, then a quick check up and I’ll be out of your hair.” Lydie promised as she pressed a button to silence the alarm.

May didn’t pretend to be anything other than irritated. “Lydie, can we just do it later? Peter’s here and I don’t want to—“

Lydie raised her hand her hand to stop her. “Nuh-uh. I’ve already broken one rule for you today. If you think I’m not following another protocol, you’ve got another thing coming to you.” She glanced over to the young superhero. “Sorry, Peter.”

He just shrugged and moved his chair back towards the wall. “No worries. I’ll just stay out of the way.” Yeah, even he knew better to fight with the nurses in Avengers Tower.

Lydie chuckled, “I wish you were that cooperative when you were a patient here, Peter.”

May outright cracked up at that. “You tell him, Lydie.”

“Yeah, yeah, yuk it up. I am a stellar patient.” Peter pouted, “You’re both so mean to me.”

The laughter died down as Lydie disconnected things and went about doing what should have been a cursory check. The cuff of the blood pressure monitor has inflated, May had flinched at its tightness, and Peter had sympathized. Lydie had pulled the stethoscope from around her neck, preparing for the next check when the alarm went off.

“May?” Lydie questioned suspiciously. “What’s going on?”

May looked from Lydie to Peter, then back to Lydie. “Nothing. You know that the machine is too sensitive.  Let the cuff do its torture again,” she pressed. “It’s probably because I was laughing is all.”

Lydie wasn’t buying it, “Peter, would you be a dear and step into the hallway, please.”

Yeah, Peter knew that tone, too. It was the old ‘the medical professionals need to discuss things that aren’t any of your business’ tone. He was out of the chair and into the hallway in a shot.

It wasn’t like he’d be missing anything, anyways.

“Okay, May, ‘fess up. What’s going on?” Lydie whispered.

Had they really forgotten that it didn’t work?

Peter could hear a button being pressed, maybe an aural thermometer, then May’s reply. “My pain medication,” she whispered back. “I should have thought to say something before he got here, but then I fell asleep and I couldn’t let Peter know—“

“How bad?”

May exhaled slowly, “Bad enough that it set off that stupid machine.”

A quiet beep sounded.

“Aw, shit. May!” Lydie hissed. “You’re fever’s up, too! You know better than to not say something about that!”

Peter could hear Lydie’s movements around the room, a drawer opening, vials being shuffled about—“I’m going to get your pain meds and some fever reducers on board, then I’ll call Dr. Bonwick.”

“No.” May blurted out, desperate. “You know it’ll put me to sleep. Just wait until Peter’s visit is over, an hour? Please? Can I have just an hour with him?”  

“No negotiations, May.” They were done with trying to be secretive. “We’re already pushing our luck because of the delay with the dialysis... and Peter’s a smart kid. You know he’ll understand.”

Peter could hear the quiver in her voice again. “I don’t want him to understand! I want him here!” May moaned, giving in to her pain and exhaustion. “I want five years with him, and I want stepping on legos, and sleepovers with his friends, and... and I wanted him to be a man before he had to deal with—oh.” May couldn’t speak, and so she wept.

And Peter’s heart broke again—how many more times would he feel it splinter before it finally stopped.

Lydie tried to comfort May, even as she went about her job with a haste that made Peter realize his coming had been a mistake. She’d been hurting. She suffered because of him—for five years, she had suffered because of him.

It took a few minutes, but May’s cried eventually softened, then levelled to a nice even breathing. She’d fallen asleep. Lydie popped out of the room, took one look at him, and knew. “You heard?”

Peter nodded.

She stepped into the hallway completely, approaching him like a wild animal. “I gave her something to calm her, but with the fever and all...”

“She’s asleep, I know.”

“Good.” She looked over her shoulder into the room, and then addressed Peter. “She’ll sleep for a while now, which is good.” Lydie assured him. “I’m going to call Dr. Bonwick and get her started on her new meds. If everything goes as well as we hope, she’ll be ready for visitors tomorrow, okay?”

“Okay.”

Lydie stared at him for a second and forever. “May mentioned that Mr. Stark had filled you in on some things. Do you have any questions for me? May’s given me permission to give you the basics.”

Peter stuffed his hands in his pockets, hunching his shoulders as he fought the urge to ask one of the so many questions he didn’t want answers to. “No. I’m good.”  

The look on her face told Peter that she didn’t believe him.

“Are you alright?” She asked, sympathy pouring off of her. “That visit had to be hard for you, too.”

Peter shook his head in the negative, “I’ll be fine.” Peter assured her. He always was, after all. “You just worry about Aunt May... please.” He tried to be casual about it, but the tears welling up were a dead giveaway.

Lydie stepped closer. “Peter, you’re allowed to be upset, too. I’m sure that Mr. Stark can find someone that can—“

An alarm blared in May’s room, loud and urgent. Lydie stopped talking and rushed back into the room, turning the alarm off and double checking what she thought was the culprit. “A-ha!” She called out as she reattached the oximeter to May’s finger. She watched the numbers jump back up from 0% to a not amazing but could be worse percentage. “There you go, May.” She squeezed the sleeping woman’s hand in support then went back into the hallway. “I’m so sorry about that, Peter, she shifted and knocked... off... her... Peter?” She looked down the empty corridor then rushed down it towards the elevator. She noted the floor numbers descending on the display. “Oh, shit.”

* * * * * *

“Mr. Parker, would you like me to initiate ‘Meltdown Management Mode’ again?” FRIDAY inquired.

May was dying, if she wasn’t already dead. He’d pushed her too much. She was too weak and in pain and then the alarm had gone off and he knew—

Peter said nothing, just stared at the numbers on the panel as the elevator descended. He couldn’t be there anymore. He couldn’t be there when she wasn’t—

May was dead, and Peter was alone.

“Mr. Parker, you are again displaying signs of distress, and failure to respond will require me to contact Boss and update him on your condition.”

Peter blinked as he registered the unintended threat. “I’m fine, thank you. I just need some air,” he rasped out.

“Yes, fresh air and exercise are both optimal solutions for mental distress. Boss has programmed me to provide him positive reinforcement when he takes the initiative on his own to remedy his anxiety. Would you like me to tell you ‘good job,’ Mr. Parker?”

“No, thanks.”

Peter felt a slight shift in speed, then the elevator came to a halt.

“It is currently an overcast 58°F, Mr. Parker. Enjoy the fresh air.” The elevator doors opened, revealing the Avengers Tower lobby bustling with activity. “Mr. Parker, should Boss inquire, what time will you be returning home?”

Home? May was dead and Peter was alone.

Peter chuckled darkly. “I don’t have a home anymore, FRIDAY,” he replied, and pushed his way through the masses of people, out the front doors of the tower, and into the chaos of a world struggling with unexpected rebirth.