Heavy Healing

2 Peter

Wade was weird. Very weird. The kind of weird that would raise a yellow in the forefront of your mind but would easily be settled if someone mentioned that 'The guy's sweet, just a bit talkative'. And honestly, that's how Peter would describe Wade. Strange but nice. Trustworthy enough that he didn't feel like he was going to be poisoned if he ate the guy's cooking. 

He tapped the Tupperware container that he'd been sent home with. It actually wasn't Tupperware, it looked like one of those really nice containers you get from small restaurants that feels wrong to throw away when it comes with your takeout. The perfect 'send it home with someone' kind of thing. It would find a nice home in Peter's chaotic drawer of plastic containers, surely to make friends with his miso soup containers. 

Peter closed his eyes and leaned back in his seat. Wade had called him a taxi which had been really nice of him. Peter tried to turn him down, figuring he'd just sling out of the area once he was safely out of sight, but alas the man insisted and Peter didn't have the energy to say no. 

And on that note, Wade was exhausting. 

Or Peter was more exhausted by people. 

It was hard to care and talk to people for extended times these days. In the past, he found himself craving some social interaction but after losing his mom to cancer he just didn't have it in him to care about talking anymore. 

He wished he'd asked to call Aunt May his mom. That's what she was. She was his mom and had been since he was a child. He hardly remembered his parents, they were his aunt and uncle's burden to remember by the time he was fifteen.

He really missed going home to her on weekends. He'd get a great meal, to hear all about the hospital gossip that she picked up at the nurse's station, praise for his school work, and general encouragement. He missed her hugs. The older he got the more crushing and grounding they became, even the last one she gave him had somehow made his lungs feel like they were about to burst . . . 

He blinked at the tears that had welled up in his eyes, feeling a wave of discomfort wash over him. It wasn't a concerning buzz, but it was enough for him to look up and meet the reflection of his driver's eyes in the rearview mirror.

"Don't cry." the cabbie said, sending him a look. 

Peter stared back, unmoved by the man's antics. he couldn't quite tell if the man was saying that because he looked down on emotion, or because he was uncomfortable. Peter didn't want to ask so he just looked away, turning his attention out the window. He was almost home. It would be fine. 

When the car came to a stop he couldn't get out of the backseat fast enough. It occurred to him he wasn't positive if the man had been paid, but honestly, that was on Wade if he hadn't. Peter would at least know for sure if it had been an Uber, but whatever. Not his problem anymore. 

The driver didn't honk after him, so he took that as a sign as he entered his building. It was early in the afternoon. Realistically he should take time to commit to a Spider-Man shoot so he had a portfolio for next week's run of headlines at the bugle, but he couldn't quite bring himself to that. He really wished that someone, anyone else would request his work. He'd been considering doing something like a Spider-Man Onlyfans or Patron. Tasteful obviously, nothing that hasn't already been seen by the public and nothing that didn't make him feel uncomfortable. He'd seen a few TikToks and credit posts debating whether or not one of the sites out there was the real hero. There were a lot of great cosplayers after all, some with enough charisma to convince some people they were the real deal. Peter could do it if he found a way to gather a following that would pay for these things . . .