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Normally Peter would have been awoken by the annoying blare of his phone’s alarm, but after a late night of patrols and all he could think about was the soft bed that awaited him, it seemed he forgot to set it. So, instead of that, May was shaking him firmly on the shoulders while Peter slowly came to, blinking away the sleep from his blurry vision, rubbing his eyes and letting out a yawn.
“Pete, honey, you got to get up! The bus is arriving in ten minutes and I have to take a morning shift at the hospital!” Said May, moving away quickly as Peter bolted up from bed and tore the sheets off his body, scrambling up and searching for a fresh pair of clothes. May leaned over towards her nephew and planted a kiss on the top of his head, shouting that she’d see him tonight and that she was making dinner instead of having takeout.
Stripping his pyjamas from his body, shuddering at the difference of temperature from his warm bed and slightly frigid air of his room, Peter pulled on a pair of jeans and threw a shirt and sweater on overtop. His fingers worked rapidly as he tried to make his hair decent, then promptly scooped up his backpack and shouldered it.
Peter quickly ran into the kitchen, shoved a piece of toast that was graciously buttered already, and pulled on his socks, hopping on one foot to keep his balance and trying not to let the bread fall from his mouth as saliva moistened it. Quickly, Peter zipped up his bag and shoved the rest of the bread into his mouth, chewing as fast as he could while he scrambled to grab the nearest pair of sneakers, lacing them up at lightning speed.
His enhanced hearing picked up the sound of the squealing tires of the bus and Peter nearly ripped the door off its hinges as he opened it, sprinting out the door, fumbling for his keys and missing the lock several times before locking it successfully. He made way for the stairs and skipped them three at a time, arriving on the ground floor in no time.
Sprinting down the lobby and weaving through the small crowd of people, Peter shoved open the glass door and was lucky the driver was just pulling up and opening the doors, giving Peter the time to hop onto the first step of the bus and sigh in relief.
“Peter! Over here!”
Peter’s attention was turned towards the waving hand of his best friend near the back of the bus, a large grin spread across Peter’s face as he climbed up the remaining steps and power walked to the other end of the bus. They did their handshake and laughed afterwards, then Peter felt it, the nagging sensation that he forgot something, which he might have since he rushed out the door this morning.
Peter bent down to cuff his pair of jeans, listening to Ned as he talked about the documentary he watched last night on space and supernovas, which was quite interesting. Peter sat back up and smiled brightly at his friend, nodding along and adding his own comments in when he felt necessary.
That sensation did not go away.
English was easily one of Peter’s least favourite classes, the teacher was an asshole and they only ever read classics that were written by old white dudes with no sense of societal diversity, at least that’s how Michelle put it, and Peter agreed with her. Listening to the lecture on the different plot points of one of the most recent chapters the class was assigned, Peter turned his attention to the window and found himself zoning out, focusing on the singular strip of wood on one of the panes and the rest of his vision blurring out what his brain deemed unnecessary and boring.
Tapping his foot against the solid ground and shaking the desk as he leaned on it, Peter’s leg kept brushing up against the fabric on the back pack despite not being consciously aware of what he was doing. Then came the clicking of his pen, the repeated beat of some pop song he heard on the radio a few days ago was being played by Peter’s very own hand and pen.
“If my class is so uninteresting, Parker, perhaps you would care to teach it?”
Peter’s attention was snapped back to the present moment, the once blurry surroundings becoming clear and Peter’s head was turned towards the teacher and his snickering classmates. His face heated up and Peter simply stuttered out a lame excuse and went back to the sheet in front of him, vaguely hearing the whispers of his classmates about Pete acting weird.
The desk continued to shake, and Peter’s foot did not stop bouncing, and before the teacher could call on him again, the bell abruptly rang and dismissed the class, the teacher assigning the next chapters for homework as the students filed out of the stuffy classroom. Peter bowed his head as he passed the teacher and bit his lip nervously, picking the dry skin from them.
Ned tapped his shoulder and synced his walking pace with Peter’s, smiling eagerly and babbling about a new LEGO set that had been recently put on the market, and according to Ned, it was a big one. Peter nodded and felt his eyes wandering around the hall, his enhanced hearing picking up on the clattering of zippers as students strutted down the hallways, the slamming of lockers and the buzzing white noise of chatter that bothered Peter to every degree.
“Peter? This is the third time you zoned out this morning, you good?” Asked Ned, Peter furrowing his eyebrows in confusion and jutting his lower lip out in thought.
“That many times? Jesus, I didn’t even realize.” Replied Peter, both of them turning the corner and Peter had the unlucky fortune of slamming into one Flash Thompson, as if his morning couldn’t get any better. Peter babbled out an apology before scooting around his bully, Ned shuffling along with him as Flash called out obscenities at the two.
“Watch where you’re going Parker, or next time you’re going into the trash where you belong!”
Peter stopped and felt his grip around his books tighten. Peter did not have the patience to deal with Flash’s shit today, so he turned on his heel and barked back something worse in reply.
“Just because you suck the school board’s dick doesn’t mean you own the halls, Eugene!”
Flash’s eyes widened in surprise and Ned gapped at him in admiration and worry for Peter’s safety, and Peter was not about to stick around for what would happen next. Peter scurried off to his next class, which was with Ned and Michelle, AP Chemistry, and Peter sat down and blew out a sigh of relief.
Ned nudged his friend and smiled at him. “Dude, that was great! Where did that come from?”
Michelle leaned in from the opposite side of Peter and made eye contact with Ned. “What did he do?”
Ned’s smile widened. “He told Flash that just because he’s sucking off the school board, he doesn’t own the hallways.”
Michelle nodded, a grin of admiration plastered on her face. “I’m so proud of you, finally becoming a man.”
Peter ran his fingers through his hair. “I’m pretty sure that just came from me forgetting to take my meds this morning and now I’m going to get beat up, but thanks guys.”
Peter hated school assemblies, they were unnecessary and obnoxious, and it was an over-stimulation nightmare. It didn’t help that with his enhanced senses, everything was louder and sharper, and Peter usually had to leave assemblies half way through because the noise was too much to bare.
So, here he was, sandwiched by Michelle and Ned in the bleachers as the principal introduced Midtown High’s special guest, which was some dude named Bittenbinder or something like that, Peter didn’t pay attention. What seemed to grab his attention and irritate him to no end was the little noises.
Whispering and giggles he could ignore, but then people started shuffling their feet against the metal, an unpleasant sound filling Peter’s ears. Joanne Hart’s bubble-gum popping was just loud enough to cause Peter to wince, the heavy breathing of Jason with the dust allergy, the giggles of the gaggle of popular girls snickering and shuffling.
It started to get hot in the room, uncomfortable for Peter. So, starting to shift, tapping his foot repeatedly on the bleacher steps, pulling at the sleeves of his shirt as they stuck to his skin, almost like it was burning him, but giving him enough air to relieve him temporarily.
Pulling at his collar, the fabric began to itch against his skin, the shuffling started to feel like the loud streets of New York. Sweat dripped from his forehead and Pete brought his hands up to his hair, running his fingers through it and pulling at it, licking his lips and biting down in attempts to ignore the burning sensation of his clothes on his skin.
Michelle and Ned were now too close to him, like those cartoon walls that wouldn’t stop closing in on Peter. He could feel their breath on his shoulders, on his sweaty skin and it made him want to claw his skin off his face. Peter hurriedly rolled his sleeves up and began to scratch at his skin, trying to rid himself of that burning sensation.
Michelle leaned over to Peter. “Stop moving, it’s getting annoying.”
Peter muttered out a sorry but didn’t stop itching or tapping his foot. At this point, he had bit his lip so hard he drew blood, but his tongue didn’t even register the metallic taste of it as Peter’s mind was simply concerned with stopping the itch and the burning.
Too hot, everything was too cramped, and Peter wanted out, but that would just make him sensitive and cause even more attention to be directed towards him. Ned frowned at Peter, then cast a glance to an equally concerned Michelle and Peter was frantically looking around the room, if only everyone would stop breathing for a few minutes, if only he could tear his clothes from his body.
Ned leaned down towards the counselor that wasn’t far from the bleachers, saying that Peter needed to get out of the room immediately. The counselor simply nodded and motioned them to make their way down.
Ned tapped Peter’s shoulder lightly. “Hey man, come on, we’re getting you out of here.”
Peter nodded absently and stood up with his friends, who were careful to not accidentally brush him or make too much noise. The shuffling of him and his friends started to bring tears to his eyes, prickling at the corners and threatening to spill any second. The group rushed out of the gym and Peter collapsed onto the ground, sliding down the side of the lockers and letting out a choked sob.
Ned and Michelle crouched down, making sure to keep their distance. “Peter, we need you to listen for a minute, can you do that?”
A nod, Michelle started to talk. “We’re going to get you some water, okay? We want you to put in your earbuds and listen to music, any kind. Take off your hoodie and tap your fingers on the ground, count your breathing and close your eyes. We’ll be right back.”
Peter nodded and fumbled for his phone, earbuds already wrapped around it and he struggled briefly to untangle them but was successful as he jammed them into his ears and clicked on the first playlist he saw in Spotify. Closing his eyes, he faintly felt his fingers drum against the concrete floor and his breathing began to steady, his chest rising and falling every few seconds that Peter counted.
A pair of feet approached him, and Peter looked up. Ned was holding out a glass of water to Peter, who graciously took it and took slow, steady sips. It was nice and cold, different from the stuffy climate of the gym that he was briefly imprisoned in, and a small smile spreads across his lips as he takes out one earbud.
“Sorry about that.” Said Peter, flushing embarrassedly but sporting a kind, soft grin to his friends.
Ned wagged his finger in Peter’s face and tutted. “We talked about this Peter, what do we say instead of sorry?”
Peter rolled his eyes fondly. “Thank you.”
Michelle nodded, as did Ned. “That’s right, now please rephrase that for us.”
Peter looked to the ground. “Thank you for helping me.”
Ned smiled, and Michelle offered Peter a softer look than her normal scowl, they both sat down in front of Peter and grinned at him. They chatted aimlessly while the assembly continued on, the counselor sticking her head in and asking if everything was alright, and she received three thumbs up in conformation.
Peter smiled at his friends. “At least I know I need my meds to pass of as a functional human being.”
This received several lighthearted chuckles from his friends, and they sat there until the assembly was over.
Peter unlocked the door with his keys, fumbling briefly and missing the lock itself a few times, but finally able to open the door and was met with the delicious smell of his Aunt’s lasagna.
“Hi, sweetheart! How was school?” Asked May, smiling from the counter as Peter dropped his bag near the couch and patted over towards the kitchen.
“It could’ve been better, I forgot to take my meds in the rush this morning.” Said Peter, turning his head away sheepishly as May tutted and shook her head.
“You have to stop staying out so late! It’s not good for you!” Said May, turning towards the sink to wash the cutting board off.
Peter sighed. “I know, but I just want to feel like I’m giving something, and the Avengers don’t really deal with petty crimes. It’s up to everyone’s friendly neighbourhood Spider-Man!”
May chuckled softly. “Oh dear, you’re just like your Uncle Ben.”
Peter smiled. “I hope so, he was a great man.”
May turned her head and smiled, nodding her head and they continued to chat for the rest of the night.