A Family of Flaws

Chapter Twenty-Seven; A Soon-To-Be Arrival

*Peter's POV*

Peter laid awake all night, staring at the ceiling with exhausted eyes. Black Widow and Hawkeye. Did they give him the headphones and sunglasses? Had they seen him in that helpless position?

A thought clicked into place in his head. The explosions from earlier. The Avengers must have handled it and then the ex-spies found him afterwards.

This was absolutely mortifying. Shame washed over him while he turned over on his bed, facing the peeling wall instead of the cracked ceiling. He just wanted to prove to them that he could be a mature, useful hero. Why did he always embarrass himself? He had accepted the fact that outside of the suit, he was just Peter Parker, dorky teenager with a knack for getting into trouble. But as Spider-Man he could be more. So much more.

Unfortunately, his Parker Luck found a way to sneak into his hero life and ruin his reputation there too. He was so stupid. He never should have gotten out of bed to help earlier. He should have minded his own business for once and gotten some rest.

Peter raised a hand and gripped at his hair, tugging at it lightly while he squeezed his eyes shut. Stupid, stupid, stupid. The words repeated again and again, a constant chant that would not stop.

  The door of the apartment creaked open, the hinges struggling, and soft footsteps entered the conjoined kitchen and living room.

  Peter stilled, breathe caught at the back of his throat, fingers tangled in his brown locks. It was May.

  For some reason, Peter sat up and jumped out of bed. His eyes grazed over his alarm clock, reading 2:34. It was nearly three in the morning and he was exhausted and he was an emotional wreck, but he swung open his bedroom door and bolted into the hallway.

  Standing in the kitchen, May looked exhausted. Actually, that was an understatement. She looked absolutely drained. She had her hands on the edges of the sink, leaning over it with her head hung low.

  Her hair was messy and unkept, knots obvious even from across the room. Her shirt was half tucked into her pants, with stains and holes littering it. Her pants were in even worse condition, not only were they ripped, but they were tarnished around the cuffs of them, being complemented by mysterious spots that decorated them.

  Her clothes hung off her loosely, too loosely. Her arms were thin, the only part of her skin that wasn't covered by clothes. They were pale. And they were just so thin. That thought kept repeating. She looked skeletal.

  His eyes roamed up to her face and he cringed, her cheeks were sunken and hallow, while her eyes had deep, dark bags under them that looked more like bruises. Peter's heart clenched in his chest.

  He remembered the old glow that she used to have, a bright smile constantly on her face. Her eyes always had a cheeky shine to them that just lightened his whole day, no matter how terrible it was. Her hair was soft and her clothes were clean. She looked so much more different than she did only a few months earlier.

  And suddenly, Peter didn't have the urge to envelop her in a hug and tell her how awful things had been over the past few months. All he wanted to do was go back to his room and cry.

  From her place in the kitchen, May reached out and grabbed something from her purse, pulling out an all too familiar bottle of pills. She popped three into her mouth and turned on the sink, washing the pills down with the water.

  Once she was done with that, she set the bottle down on the counter and staggered off into her bedroom, not even closing the door behind her as she collapsed on her bed with an exhausted sigh.