Overwhelmed- Spider-Man

The Sun Pokes Through

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"Peter come on!" MJ leans in the doorway, checking an imaginary watch. "Miles is going to finish his shift before we get there."

Rolling his eyes, Peter shoves an extra energy bar into his backpack. "He hasn't even left the house yet."

"Neither have we."

"I'm going, I'm going." With an affable eye roll, MJ sets for the door, leaving him alone in the guest bedroom.

He grabs his bag, setting for the door when a flash of red catches his eye.

The smooth fabric of the Spider-Man suit stares at him expectantly, waiting to be brought along for the ride.

Glancing at the bracelets on his wrists, he frowns at the small hole in the center, where his web shooters usually attach.

The bag puffs out, stuffed to the brim with the suit shoved inside.

"Peter!"

"I'm coming!"

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Peter shoves the door to the gymnasium open, shuffling toward the heap of bunk beds piled in the middle. "Coffee?"

Ernie snorts. "Nice shirt."

"Thanks, it's new!"

"I can tell."

Peter shrugs. "Had to buy new clothes eventually."

Ernie waves the cup at the pitcher. " Whatever. Fill it up."

Swarming with people, the F.E.A.S.T. center bustles with energy, volunteers and homeless hurrying around with an anxious sort of energy. According to the voicemails that Miles' left on his phone, Devil's Breath displaced more citizens than any other disaster New York has been through, and F.E.A.S.T. is still struggling to keep up with the overflow.

Pushing through the crowd, Peter smiles at the banner decorating the wall opposite the doors.

The days since Martin Li was arrested have left the shelter overflowing with people, all desperate for solace from the chaos unfolding outside. Devil's Breath left homes destroyed or taken over, and many people's support systems were destroyed by the disease.

Just like his.

Watching the flood of people swarm through the repurposed gym, lounging on beds or loitering outside the counseling office, he grips the straps on my backpack. How could the world be so cruel to so many people?

"Hey!" Gloria grins, stepping through the crowd. "Glad to see you up and about. We were worried about you."

"It's nice to see you too, Gloria," He responds, pointedly ignoring her last sentence. "It seems like you guys could use the help."

She takes a breath, glancing at the crowded room. "We always do."

Heading back toward the kitchen, he holds up the pitcher in a toast. "Well, I've already got the coffee."

The kitchen is piled with boxes, B-grade vegetables, and surplus food from restaurants stocked up for the influx of visitors. Slipping through the sea of cardboard, he refills the pitcher of coffee.

"Wow, is that Peter Parker?" Leaning in the doorway, Miles offers a crooked grin, a box of clothing donations balanced precariously on his thigh. "Almost didn't recognize you, with the..." Miles gestures vaguely at his outfit.