Spidey One-Shots

Own

"Peter, Happy's at the door."

He looked up to see his Aunt May moving towards him, crouching down and placing her hand comfortingly on his knees.

It did little to soothe him.

"Honey, Happy wants to talk to you. Is now a good time?"

Is now a good time? For crying out loud, he was sobbing on his bed, reeling still from the loss of his mentor.

His father figure.

He still found it hard to believe that Tony Stark really had passed on.

All he had accomplished in these three months was breaking his personal mourning record.

He had never thought that losing yet another person would make him feel this hollow. Hell, he thought that he would be used to it by now, deal with it better and all that.

But he wasn't. He felt it, all the same

Still, he tried to keep moving. Just like he did after his parents.

After Uncle Ben.

Only this time, he was doing it for Mr. Stark.

Funny enough, he hadn't even managed to complete the acceptance stage, so he wasn't doing a lot of moving.

He's acutely aware, however, that the pain never goes away. He's not fooling himself this time, since he's faced loss before.

But there's only so many people that he can lose.

Only so many people that he can handle losing.

'How many more?' was the question that rang through his head as he weakly nodded to May's question.

"Not a great time, but I'll talk to him. It's fine. I'm fine." he rambled as he stood up from his bed, before promptly collapsing.

May managed to catch him in time, letting out a grunt upon feeling the pull from the sudden effort.

"Sorry, my leg fell asleep." Peter apologized, slightly sheepish.

"It's okay, hun." May pacified, smiling in part amusement and part sympathy. "Do you want me to bring him in here, or will you go outside?"

It was then, at that exact moment, that Peter realized something.

Throughout all of his loss, all of his struggle, May was always there for him.

It wasn't like his guardians, the people he'd lost, had a choice in the matter. But she could have backed out at any time. Put him up for adoption, or sent him into the system. He would have understood.

He'd be hurt, mind you, but he would have understood.

May wasn't even related to him by blood. Simply by her marital ties with his Uncle Ben. Technically speaking, she had no obligation to protect him. Those obligations died the night Uncle Ben did.

Yet she cared for him. She worked multiple jobs, struggled on the daily and still found time to be physically present, emotionally invested and just...there for him in his life.

He reached a conclusion: Aunt May was severely underappreciated.

His solution: Show her the appreciation she deserves.

Overwhelmed by this sudden onslaught of emotions, Peter wrapped his arms tightly around May, nestling his head in the crook of her neck as the tears rolled down his face with renewed vigour.

"Thank you, Aunt May." he sobbed out as he felt her arms wrap around him.

"What's wrong, Pete?" she asked anxiously as she rubbed circles on his back, trying to calm him enough to get an answer.