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chapter twelve

12 x some girl to spider talk

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My finding Peter Parker seated in the training room at around seven at night was the last thing I was expecting when I'd decided to go get in some extra practice. Especially given he wasn't in costume, and there was an odd lack of a certain redhead's presence.

Given he wasn't actually doing training, but rather, was seated on a bench and slumped against the wall behind it, I assumed he'd figured this was an ideal place to sit and think.

That thought was confirmed once he practically jumped out of his skin when I said, "Penny for your thoughts, Petey."

He forced a laugh as I came over and sat beside him, running a hand through his already tousled hair as he again slumped against the wall. "Hey, sorry, I just . . . Aunt May's visiting a friend out of state for the weekend, and I--"

"Had nothing else to do?" I volunteered, though I kept a critical eye on him all the same. Because even as he began to nod, I wasn't buying what he was selling.

"Yeah. Turns out our house is pretty quiet when it's empty," he mused, shrugging one shoulder. "Never really noticed before, given how little time I spend in it, anyway."

"Right," I nodded, turning and facing the rest of the training room instead of staring at him like a stalker. (Realistically, I was a concerned mentor, so that shouldn't matter.) "I'm honestly not too clear on what 'quiet' is anymore . . . you sure it still exists?" I joked.

He only kind of laughed, and it was obvious it was a pity laugh. "Pretty sure."

"Good to know," I said, tipping my head toward him for a moment before sitting up and looking back at him. "Now why don't you tell me why you're really sulking alone in the training room?"

He stared at me, bewildered. "I, um--"

"Not that I don't doubt what you said about your aunt," I added, figuring it was best he didn't think I didn't trust him, "I just know that that face is not the face of someone who is sick of being alone in a house."

A small smile made it's way to his lips. "I'm that see-through?"

"And I don't even have psychic powers," I agreed with a nod.

Peter sighed at that, and stared at the ceiling for a good long while. He didn't look back down, even when he eventually mumbled, "Ev and I had a fight."

"Oh?" That made much more sense, taken into account his current mood. "What about?"

He sighed again, louder this time, before finally sitting up and turning to face me. "We got into a fight about this whole hero thing . . . I told her I thought it might be too dangerous, that maybe we should take some time off and see what happens . . . and she didn't take it well," he rubbed both hands over his face then, his elbows resting on his knees. "She thought I was trying to tell her she shouldn't be a hero at all," he said through his hands, the words so muffled I almost couldn't interpret them.

Once all of the pieces fell into place, my eyes widened slightly in understanding, and I was glad in that moment that he was too busy wallowing in boy-feelings to be looking my way. "Uh huh," I said slowly as I tried to collect my thoughts. I didn't want to say the wrong thing to him, after all. I was supposed to be a mentor. Maybe this was more Pietro's area . . .? But Pietro was off doing guy stuff-- "Well, that's not what you meant, was it?"

He peeked at me from between his hands. "No," he agreed sullenly.

"Did you bother mentioning that to her?" I asked next, arching a brow at him inquisitively.