Fall nights in Indiana were something to be remembered. Every Friday, after school had ended, mom would make enough of a cider-like drink to last all weekend. It tasted like caramel apples, but there was always a spice she added that none of us could ever pinpoint. When I tried to make it, in nearer times, I found it was cinnamon. But it didn't taste like cinnamon while in the mix, so it didn't matter that I couldn't name it. Dad would then build a fire made out of sticks pulled from the neighbors stockpile in the back, so they hardly noticed. We'd all sit around the fire, Neena usually winding up in my lap and taking cookies from my plate of snacks Josh secretly loved to make.
Usually, mom brought out her guitar and dad would sing classic 80s tunes we all knew by heart. Even Neena would sing along to songs like Pour Some Sugar on Me and Summer of '69. Our neighbors would complain, and the dog would just growl in response, giving them a reason to step out of the yard. When I was fifteen, the fall before the accident, my boyfriend would come to the backyard sessions. After going from neighborhood kid who always wound up in our kitchen after school, to being the boy I talked nonstop about, he was part of the family, I suppose.
Now that I think about it, that fall included a lot of things that made me into the girl I am today. For example, when my closest friend at the time turned on me because one of the school's most loved and hated girls invited her to do so, I learned to not trust anyone unless they seriously deserved it. Hence why it took me 6 months to even get two sentences out when having to speak to Peter. At the time, he was just some boy I had to live with until I graduated and moved out. Had I known how much I could trust him, things probably would have been easier.
In the same subject of not trusting people, it was also that fall when I learned I could break someone's nose. That, of course, wasn't an act of aggravation, but of a sort of payback for that jerk who apparently had been dating me on a bet. With the money he won for hitting the year mark, he used to fix his precious nose. His friends weren't laughing then. At least, not at me. They seemed to be more amused that the scrawny fifteen year old girl could break one of the football player's nose. Not to mention it was an actual impact on him, rather than what Josh did to him. Apparently, though, dying the white uniform pink wasn't easy to pay off. Either way, we cost that boy a lot of money.
I turned sixteen two months before my parents died. Or, two months before they decided to let Neena die and disappear with Josh. It was really a great birthday. They took us out to the ice skating rink in a nearby town, and a lot of my friends came. Or, at least, the ones in my photography club I'd started. Which were about ten people? Either way, we ended up dancing around on the skates, the snow falling all around us as we looped arms and danced to The Beatles and Queen. When they called for the couples skate, some of the couples in the group headed out, and I had started to pig out. That is, until my dad ended up coming over, and dragging me out into the rink. It was then he'd told me that he'd always be there to catch me if I fell. I guess that was a lie.
By six in the morning, it was raining. The thick droplets padded on my bare feet, filling up my converse beside me, and added up in my exposed eyelashes. The letter was tucked away safely in a small loose floorboard I used to hide all of my things in my room, just to the right of my bedside table. I was surprised when four hours ago, Peter still was snoring, cuddled up the blanket and stuffed toy. I guess I just sort of started walking after that, and then later started swinging my way up to the top of the Daily Bugle building. I've been sat on the ledge ever since. Not many people look up, or, rather, to the top of building.
Maybe it was just the mental shock of the real possibility that my parents were alive, or just the inability to feel anything at the moment, but I hadn't said anything after finding out. I don't know if there was just nothing really to say, or if I just couldn't get myself to scream yet, but it was just silence. Pure silence other than the sputtering of little liquid droplets upon my shivering skin. There were questions upon questions forming, and I didn't know where to begin. I'd already concluded this wasn't a prank. The only people who knew who my parents were are Peter, May, and Ben had known, too. Nobody really had a Facebook back home, and we didn't get online much. Besides, Flash wasn't heartless enough to do something like this, and nobody really cared enough to do it, either. So, with a giant sigh, I had made the conclusion this couldn't be fake. Where the hell they were, or why they didn't, you know, come and get me, I didn't know. Nor was I excited to find out. Which, I knew I would. Eventually I had to. I wanted to know why they pretended to die, and why they had let Neena die. Let alone leave me.
I try and think back on my childhood. Nothing was truly extraordinary about my parents, so why are their names, and Josh's, on this government-like paper? It's not like they were agents or anything. Dad literally brought be to work with him almost every day, and if he couldn't, I went when I woke up. Everyone knew me around there. Dillon, Maxwell, Edward, and Claire? I was like the child they never had. And mom's work was the principal of the high school. Literally, there was nothing special about her work other than having the advantage of pulling me into her office to avoid certain people in my year and a half there. Literally, there was no way that she could be doing anything surrounding government work. She'd surly be fired for being shifty. Which, of course, she wasn't.
A small thud sounded behind me, but I didn't turn. Who else would be landing on a building's roof at seven am? I crossed my arms over my chest, only realizing now that I'd had a white tee on and a bright pink bra. That wouldn't exactly be found atteactive by the hero of the city. He didn't say anything as the splashes of water beneath his steps drew closer, and I didn't either as something was placed around my shoulders. My suspicions were right when I tugged the fabric closer around me, holding it closed. "I don't think that couple's going to be happy when their blanket's gone missing from the line." At that, I cracked a smile, suppressed a laugh. "What's wrong, Scarlett?"
"Couldn't sleep." My words came out scratchy as my head tilted up towards the droplets falling on my face. I could hear him sigh, and a few moments later a pair of arms were wrapped around me, rubbing up and down my arms.
"You're shivering. How long have you been out here?" I asked him what time it was. "Seven." He said.
"Then five hours. It hasn't been raining the entire time, though." He shook his head, and scoffed, pulling me back to where I could stand. Spider-Man then pulled me to his side, and upon instinct, I put my arms around his neck.
"Scarlett Vonnie, you are going to kill yourself, I swear." I rolled my eyes as he handed me my probably ruined sneakers, and wrapped an arm around my waist. "You can't just do this stuff, you know. Taking off at night's only going to be trouble." He leapt off the building, the gravity pulling me with him.
"You act as though I can't handle myself." I remarked, snaking my legs around his waist as we flew. "I'm a big girl, Spidey, I can handle myself." He shot a web out, connecting to a building and sending us flying upwards in the path of a street. The rain thickened, and the sky grew darker as we went on.
"You're also a girl who's almost got herself killed by a beast how many times now?" I opened my mouth to reply, but closed it just as fast. "Not to mention times I don't know about. Tell me, did he attack you when you went in the sewers?" My eyes widened, jaw stiffening as I looked at him in awe.
"How the hell did you--" My shoulders slumped and lids fell closed with an exhale of carbon dioxide. "The backpack." He nodded, hooking a web on a building, and slowly bringing us down to the ground.
"Peter almost passed out when he realized you went down there. He thought you were dead when I couldn't find you. Then Gwen Stacey called him and told him you'd been at Oscorp and left before the Dr. Conners got there. You better be glad, Missy." So Gwen actually covered for me. Huh. That's new. "I thought that girl being strangled by Dr. Connors had been you, when I saw it. I think I'd have actually killed him if it was you, Scarlett." I felt my cheeks warm up a bit, but I put on a frown, trying to ignore the comment.
"What girl?" I asked, question lingering with curiosity.
"I don't know. She had this really red hair, but it kept faltering back to a color kind of like yours. But then it would go back, then in-between, and so I didn't quite know what to think of it." I shrugged.
"Maybe she's a shape-shifter..." My words paused for a moment as we landed softly on the ground outside this cafe, and I looked to the sky, watching lightning dart across its cloudy surface.
"Maybe. Alright, I'm going to leave you here. The people inside should be really nice about getting you some warm clothes and shelter. I gotta dash off. This suit isn't waterproof, ya know." Shaking my head with a roll of the eyes, I grabbed his hand before he could leap off, and dragged him inside the lit up building. "Scarlett... I can't just-"
"Then you'll put a towel over your suit and sit by the fire over there. You go out there with those electric web shooters and you could get seriously hurt. If you pulled me out of the rain, I'm pulling you out." My grip on his hand tightened as he tried to scamper off again. An old woman came from behind a curtain working as a door. "Table for- Buggy stop!- two?"
Her wrinkled features turned into a bright smile, and she nodded, taking the duo to a booth by the raging fire in the fireplace. "Scarlett, let go! I've got to-"
"Stay out of the storm? Great idea!" He grunted as I yanked him along, pushing him into the booth first, and scooting beside him. "You'll thank me for this later." He muttered something under his breath, and I laughed a little. It was probably something uncalled for, but I knew he didn't really want to go out into the storm deep down.
"You're going to kill me, Scarlett." I rolled my eyes as he broke the silence, smiling gratefully at the old woman who brought over the two cups of tea. "No, Peter's going to kill me." As my lips curved upwards, I nodded, cradling the hot cup in my hands, now, and pulling my legs to sit crossed under the table. "You realize that, right?"
"I'll be the one he kills. I'm the one who snuck out. Don't you worry about Petey. He couldn't hurt a fly." I could feel the steam on my face, and the sharp sensation on the thin glass separating my fingers from the burning liquid. I took a sip. "Besides, he wouldn't understand why I even left. I don't even understand." My eyes moved to him, focusing on the ripped parts of the mask, and his head faced the cup. A smirk crawled on my lips, and I nudged him.
"You can take a sip, you know. I won't tell if you lift up your mask a little, bug boy." Even from under the mask, I knew he smirked. My thoughts were then proved true when the mask was rolled up just to under his nose, and the corners of his pink lips turned up. I didn't want to stare, so I looked over the booth. People were hiding from the rain, as well, but no one had seen us yet. It'd be kind of hard not to notice the obvious teen sitting next to me. But, when a group of teenage girls came in complaining about their car or something, I let out a sigh, and slumped in my seat. A small hum was heard throught the cafe now, people coming in for work, and customers starting their morning orders.
"Hey, you're shivering..." I heard him say, and turned to see a frown on the part of his visible light skin. How long had I been shivering? With a small nod, my hands made their way to my arms, rubbing up and down in hopes to warm up a little bit. "C'mere." He sat his cup down opening his arms in my direction, and motioning for me to come closer. Just as I moved to slide over a bit and into his arms, I felt a sneeze coming, and quickly turned the other way, hiding the gust of air with my arm. I heard buggy chuckle, and rolled my eyes, moving over to meet him.
He was warm. I don't know if it was a Spider-Man thing, or if I would ever get this awesome power, but he was really warm. As soon as his arms wrapped around me, I could feel it, even. His gloved hands rubbed up and down my bare arms, the material sliding across the bumps on the skin. It was then I noticed he pulled his mask back down, probably as I prepared for the sneeze. "How do you do it?" I asked, eyes drifting to the fire not as far away as it seemed to be earlier.
"Do what?" He replied, chin now resting on my head.
"Manage to be a hero, and keep up some normal life, too? I mean, nobody knows just who you are, and nobody seems to suspect anything at Midtown." He stopped, and I looked up at him upon not feeling him on top of my head anymore.
"How did you-" I shook my head, rolling my eyes.
"Spidey, it's not really possible how fast you got to Midtown after Dr. Co- er, the Lizard threw me out of the bathroom. You're obviously a student, but i'm not going to snoop into who you are. I'm just saying." His body, which had tensed, seemed to relax, and I smiled leaning back into his chest and watching the fire a few feet from our booth. Nobody dare step over into the territory occupied by the web-slinger.
"Thank you." Was all he said, and me ended up in an comfortable silence.
*_*
"Yeah, just drop me off here. Might as well try and sneak in. Thanks, buggy." He nodded, and I grinned back as he jumped off the ledge, and started swinging off. A moment's pause followed from me, wondering just who that guy could be. Someone I know, obviously, but who...? It's probably pretty obvious, i'm just not always the brightest in common sense, if you haven't already noticed. Carefully, I walked over to my window, and slowly pried it open, slipping under the opening into the warm room. I noted the stack of clothes on my made bed, and a note on top.
'Change into these, and then we need to talk. -Peter' My nose scrunched up, seeing the messy and quick handwriting that was smeared. Peter knew. Whether or not May knew, I suppose is another issue for another time. I grabbed the corners of the curtains, shutting them tight and turning on the lamp beside my bed so the room wasn't pitch black. My hands gripped the bottom of my soaked tee shirt, puling it over my head and slipping a big black one on it's place. Obviously Peter's. My shorts were replaced with long sweatpants, and over it all, was a long sweater from my own closet. I pulled on some slippers, and walked over to Peter's room. It was closed, and probably locked, so, I slowly knocked.
"Pete?" I asked quietly, hearing Aunt May's quiet snores from the other room. So she was sleeping in. Good. I'd have to wake her in an hour, though. She'd whip us both if we let her sleep past 10:30. "Peter, are you up?" I heard a thud from inside, and sighed, starting to go back to my room. I hadn't even taken four steps forward before my hand was grabbed, and I was yanked into Peter's room. I suppressed a squeal of shock when he pulled me into his arms, crushing me in a hug around the shoulders, his head leaning into the crook of my neck.
"Don't ever do that again." He muttered as I wrapped my arms around him, too. "I thought you had been kidnapped or something. You left the back door wide open and-" His grip seemed to tighten. "I thought I lost you, too." Okay, that hit like a ton of bricks. Let me sum this up. Peter's lost a lot. His parents, Uncle Ben, his bestie that moved to a boarding school who at the time was pretty cute for a kid of ten. Not to sound pedophilic or anything, but when seeing the picture, my inner ten year old Scarlett squealed in hopes of a grown up cutie for the eighteen year old.
"I'm not going anywhere, Peter. I promise." His grip around me tightened, and I didn't let go either. "Besides, if I ever actually do get into trouble, I can always seem to count on you or bug-brain to save me." I could feel him chuckle, his warm breath tickling the bare skin on my shoulder.
"What're you going to do if we can't, though?" I pulled back a bit, causing him to look me in the eyes as I smiled warmly.
"Like that's ever going to happen. I'm always around one of you two. Especially since I think the kid's spying on me sometimes." Peter rolled his eyes, nodding and giving me one last good squeeze before picking me up out of nowhere, and starting to walk out the room. "Where are we going?" I asked, swinging my feet as he carried me bridal-style down the stairs.
"We're having breakfast, Miss I-Left-At-God-Knows-What-Time-And-Probably-Didn't-Eat-Anything." I rolled my eyes, getting ready to tell him that the lady at the diner had given us some order of pancakes that somebody left before they got. But, it was then Peter finished. "And Aunt May found some sale on cinnamon rolls and stock piled us." He knew they were my favorites. Frankly, when Peter specifically made cinnamon rolls, I didn't care if I'd just eaten, I'd eat myself fat.
He sat me down once we got to the kitchen, I heard my phone go off from across the room. Hoping to not take a chance at waking up May, I rushed over, sitting on the counter once it was in my hands. Upon seeing it was Missy calling, I slid my thumb across the screen to answer, and flinched once my ear hit the speaker. "Scarlett Vonnie why are you all over tumblr?" She screeched, throwing me off by a long shot.
"You mean that blog website you keep wanting me to join?" I asked, giving a shrug to Peter as he looked to me questionably. No doubt he heard the yelling, and wanted to know just what it was Missy was screaming about this morning. 'Something about tumblr.' I mouthed, causing him to nod.
"Yes!" I took a sip of some water Peter had filled up, getting a disapproving glance, but continuing to take a big gulp. "There are literal pictures of you flying through the 'effing rain with Spider-Man! What the hell did I miss?" To her words, I spit out my water, sitting it down and throwing a towel on the ground to soak up my mess before running to grab my laptop in the living room.
"What tag are you on?" I asked, secretly knowing the run of the website by heart. Missy just hadn't known I'd had a blog dedicated to photography since I was 15.
"Just type in Spider-Man!" I clicked the bookmark, heading to my dash and typing in just that. There had to be at least 50 posts of the same picture, and a few gifs people must have gotten. And then there was one of him and I in the booth, cuddled up. 'Spider-Man's new girl?' The text read, and I groaned. I had to disappear. I didn't want attention to come to Scarlett Vonnie. It was my future super-hero persona that I wanted people to see.
"I can't believe someone posted this. Honestly." I murmured, shaking my head and closing the computer after seeing enough.
"At least they didn't get your whole face, though. They really only see your hair and that you're really white." I huffed, rolling my eyes, and running a hand through my still slightly damp hair.
"I really don't want this, Missy..."
"You got to cuddle with Spider-Main! Literally who wouldn't want that? Seriously, Scarry, you've got to think of this as an opportunity. If this guy likes you, you'll literally have a personal superhero. No more fear of trouble for you!" Was that how she viewed him? Just some guy to save you all the time? Is that why she would want me to even get close to Spider-Man? "Or me!" She added, and my jaw tightened.
"Miss, I gotta go. Petey made cinnamon rolls. Talk later?" She agreed, and we clicked off. When I walked back into the kitchen, Peter was pulling out some of the pastries, and smearing the icing onto them. I wiped up the liquid the towel missed, keeping quiet.
"What was that all about?" Peter asked when we both sat down for breakfast, cutting into his roll with a fork. I, on the other hand, picked it up, and took a huge bite out of the side, knowing I had icing on my face, but loving feeling of the warm and tasty goodness filling my mouth almost completely.
"Gerl stoof. Yew wouldn'd undurstan." I replied, struggling to get the words out without having to swallow the bits of food in my mouth.