𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐑 || 𝐏𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐞𝐫

𝟎𝟎𝟑. 𝐂𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐬

Davina had several theories and ideas about what happened the night her father was killed, but no one listened or cared. Besides Peter and Charlie, that was. This was old news, though. December 24th of 2006 was forever engraved in Davina's mind. Despite everyone around her wanting her to do so, she couldn't just forget it. Davina was there. She saw a woman cloaked in shadows, like an illusion. She killed Harrison. Davina knew that. No one believed her. Most everyone thought she was crazy. "She's just covering for her mother. I bet Natalie's the one who killed Harrison." they'd say, but once that was proven otherwise, the rumor that Natalie killed her husband was dropped. Luckily, Natalie did not go to prison for a crime she did not commit.

Davina turned to write all her theories in a diary. She occasionally told Peter about it, knowing he would listen to her. Davina told Charlie as well. Charlie's father had contacts with the Starling City Police Department, so now and then, Charlie would sneak through his father's files and on his computer to find any cases related to what Davina saw that night. Anything that could help Davina out, Charlie gave her. Davina kept it all in her desk drawer. Peter wanted to do more for Davina, the way Charlie would, but all he could do was typical online research. And whenever Peter thought he'd found something, Davina had already found it.

"Peter, is that you?" May Parker, Peter's aunt, called for him from the kitchen. "No, Aunt May, it's one of Evelyn Hugo's seven husbands. I think you're better off without Peter, anyway," Davina responded before Peter could. He shot her a playful glare. May walked into the kitchen with a pan in her hand while she whisked with the other. "Davina, hello, dear," May said with a warm smile. May then looked over at Peter, and her smile faded. "Get your feet off my coffee table," May warned her nephew as she pointed the wooden spoon at him. Peter put his arms up in defeat and lowered his feet.

"I'm making spaghetti and meatballs tonight," May told the two before walking back towards the kitchen. Davina stood up to follow May. Peter grabbed her wrist before she wandered too far away. "Where are you going?" Peter asked her, as his free hand searched for the remote to the tv. "I want to help. Come on," Davina said and pulled him up off the couch. "Thank you, Davina. Nice to know someone appreciates me," May smiled as she cut onions on a chopping board. "I appreciate you, Aunt May, more than you, I swear. I cannot cook to save my life," Peter told her.

"So, May, how are you this fine evening?" Davina asked, adding emphasis on the words "fine evening" just because her over-formality annoyed Peter on occasion. "That depends," May responded. Peter opened up the fridge and pulled out a bottle of apple juice. He glanced back at Davina to see if she wanted something, but she shook her head. "Depends on what?" Peter asked as he sat up on the countertop. "How did Peter get his face messed up?" May asked Davina, side-eyeing her nephew. "Really, Aunt May?" Peter shook his head. May turned to face Peter with a motherly look on her face. "What happened to your face?" May asked.

"I'm alright," Peter told her. May crossed her arms. "That is not what I asked," May hummed. Davina looked back and forth between the two. She grabbed a bottle of water from the refrigerator. Davina brought the opened bottle up to her lips. Peter glanced at Davina and saw her raise her eyebrows with a fake 'uh-oh' look in her eye. "I just fell... skating. It's alright." Peter told his aunt. That was a lie, and May knew it, so she scoffed. "Maybe, next time, ask me, not Vi," Peter added. May tilted her head and rolled her eyes. "Maybe next time. Don't pick fights with Eugene Thomspon," she responded.

May turned back to the stovetop and continued cooking. Peter glanced at Davina and subtly shook his head. "What can I do to help?" Davina asked as she walked up to May. Before May could respond to her, they all heard the sound of objects rattling in a box. "Ben Parker, don't you even think about leaving that filthy box in my kitchen." May told Ben Parker, her husband, and Peter's uncle, as he came walking in with a half-drenched box full of old trophies. Peter hid a slight grin as he drank the apple juice he'd taken from the fridge prior.