New Beginnings

4

A/N: alcoholism; attempted physical abuse. CPS is mentioned and a huge part of this chapter and will not be accurate

"Hey, man!" Ned happily greeted once he saw Peter walk into class. They had their first period, English, together.

"How's it going?" Peter asked as he sat at his desk.

"Not too, bad," Ned shrugged. "You?"

"Exhausted," Peter admitted. "Patrol, then homework, and by the time I was ready to go to bed, the apartment smelled too bad to even sleep."

"I'm sorry," Ned said in sympathy. "You can always come sleep at my place if you need to."

"It's alright, thank you, though," Peter politely declined. "I can't be a burden on your parents."

"You're not a burden," Ned assured. "My parents love you, anyway."

"That's nice," Peter smiled but it quickly faltered. "I don't know, I just wish Aunt May was like the Aunt May before Ben, y'know-"

"Yeah," Ned sadly nodded, knowing exactly what Peter was referring to. "Have you tried talking to her about it?"

"Everytime I try to, she just denies it and says I'm worrying too much," Peter sighed. "And then picks up another bottle."

"She'll get through this, and you will too," Ned confidently assured Peter.

"Thanks, man, you're the best friend ever," Peter grinned.

~Time Jump~

"Hey, Aunt May, I'm home!" Peter announced as he unlocked his apartment and set his backpack on the kitchen table.

"Heyyyyyy Peter!" May groggily yelled back as she stumbled out of her room and into the kitchen.

"Aunt May, are you okay?" Peter took a few steps back. He knew she had issues with alcoholism but it was never this bad. Or early.

"I'm doing great, what do you mean?" Aunt May's head tilted.

"You know what?" Peter crossed his arms. "Aunt May, you need to stop. Just try to control yourself. At least ADMIT you have an issue."

"What do you mean?" Aunt May questioned.

"What do YOU mean?" Peter challenged, signs of sadness, disappointment, and disbelief evident in his voice. "All these empty bottles? Consistently being drunk? Aunt May, please get help. It's not only hurting you, it's hurting me!"

"Well, I'm sorry the love of my life died," anger flashed in May's eyes. "We all cope in different ways. I guess the difference is I actually loved him."

"That's completely wrong and you know it," Peter tried keeping his cool and didn't want to lose it. "And May! This isn't a healthy coping mechanism. It will ruin your life if you don't stop now!"

"What do you know, you selfish, dumb, kid," May scoffed as she set her eyes on one of the empty bottles. She stepped towards it and picked it up.

"May, what are you doing?" Peter cautiously asked.

Without warning, May chucked the bottle towards Peter. However, due to his Spidey-Sense, Peter was able to dodge it quickly and safely, just as someone knocked on the door.

"What the hell?" Peter was in disbelief. "How could you?"

Meanwhile, however, a neighbor nearby had heard the entire conversation and just so happened to be an employee of the Child Protection Services. Once she heard May call Peter 'selfish and dumb,' she started pounding on the door.

"Who could that be?" May angrily wondered out loud.

Peter rolled his eyes and turned around to go answer it, surprised to see his neighbor standing outside. They had never really formerly met before so it was odd to see her there.

"I'm Mrs. Smith from Child Protective Services," the woman explained as she held up her ID. "You, young man, will be removed from this household immediately."

"What?" May's face fell and her eyes started welling up. "But, but he's my nephew!"

"And clearly you care more about your bottles than his well being or him altogether," Mrs. Smith snapped. "Hi, honey, what's your name?"

"Peter,"  Peter awkwardly replied, extending his hand for a handshake.

"Peter, would you like some help packing?" Mrs. Smith kindly offered.

"Uh, I'm okay," Peter politely declined the offer. "What should I pack?" 

"Anything you'll want or need with you," Mrs. Smith replied.
"Where will I stay?" Peter asked, concerned.

"Don't worry about that," Mrs. Smith assured him. "You will be safe. Safer than here."

Peter nodded and went back to his room to pack up his belongings such as some clothes, his school supplies, and some toiletries. Meanwhile, May had picked up another bottle and was drinking it with a blank expression on her face while Mrs. Smith monitored her behavior. After about 15 minutes, Peter emerged from his room with his school backpack and a suitcase in hand.

"Goodbye, May," Peter turned to face her just before leaving. "I hope I'll see you soon, sober. Please, Aunt May, get some help."

Aunt May didn't reply and simply took another sip of water she was drinking. Mrs. Smith led Peter into her car and helped him put his bags into the trunk. She then opened the door to the seat just behind the driver's seat just before getting in the front and starting the car.

"So, how long has this been going on?" Mrs. Smith asked as she pulled into the street.

"Well, it has never been this bad," Peter began. "For about a few months, since my uncle died I guess. I just noticed her drinking every night with dinner and then later progressed to I'd see bottles everywhere every once in a while."

Mrs. Smith nodded, staying silent. She didn't want to ask anymore questions, especially ones that would make him upset or uncomfortable.

"Will I have to go into the system?" Peter suddenly asked.

"I don't know but it is very likely," Mrs. Smith admitted. "But I can assure you, you will be in a home with good, kind, and caring people. I'll be sure of it."

"Thank you," Peter gratefully nodded.

~About 20 minutes Later~

Mrs. Smith had parked the car right outside the CPS building and then got out to grab Peter's bags. Peter had put in earbuds to listen to music and text his friends about what happened and play some games to help take his mind off the situation for just a little bit. However, once he noticed the car had stopped, he unbuckled and got out.

"Peter, you can follow me," Mrs. Smith instructed.

Mrs. Smith then led him to an office with a large desk and computer. There were also filing cabinets. Mrs. Smith sat down in the chair at the desk and Peter sat in the chair across from the desk.

"So, what is your full, official name?" Mrs. Smith asked as she logged into the computer.

"Peter Benjamin Parker," Peter responded.

Mrs. Smith started rapidly typing as she looked up his name. "Peter Benjamin Parker. Age 15, attends Midtown High School?"

"Yes, that's me," Peter nodded.

"Well, it must be your lucky day," Mrs. Smith took her eyes off the computer screen.

"Why is that?" Peter raised an eyebrow.

"You have a backup guardian saved on file," Mrs. Smith explained.

"Really, who?" Peter curiously asked.

"Natasha Romanoff."