❝ and even as we fall, my eyes will still be on you ❞
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four identities
two teenagers
one love
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| peter parker // oc |
| marvel mcu |
| pre civil war → endgame |
| #1 in Peter Parker Fanfic |
| #2 in Spider-Man |
| #1 in Marvel Fanfic |
| s...
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A LOT HAPPENED IN THE NEXT TWO DAYS FOR SCOUT PAXTON. Peter had managed to find her an emergency room in Manhattan, checking her in with his suit and mask on, giving the story that she got hurt while passing by a fight he was in with a criminal. The doctors took her in immediately once they took a look at her arm, worried sick about the "poor girl who accidentally got hurt." They took her into a room to get x-rays while one of the receptionists called her grandmother. Peter watched as they whisked a tear-stained Scout out, who had left her mask and gauntlets with Peter. She had told him to return them to her house, he was the only one she trusted with them.
So once he was positive Scout Paxton was safe and her grandparents were on their way, Spider-Man left the clinic with her suit pieces held tightly in his hand, determined to return them safely. He swung from buildings and towers, bridges and rooftops as he made his way to Brooklyn, ignoring the police sirens in the distance and citizens stopping to point phones and cameras at him as he passed.
His determination and quick movement eventually landed him in front of Gale's, Brooklyn's favorite spot for freshly baked croissants, and the residence of one of Peter's favorite people. He noticed that the lights inside the bakery were off, for the Paxton family had already left to go tend to their daughter. So, Peter walked to the side of the building and found the ladder that led to the balcony outside Scout's room. He jumped up and onto it and pried the window open. The night Scout had discovered Peter's secret identity, she had shown him how to do it, and it was the only way he was able to pay her visits as Spider-Man from time to time.
Peter loved Scout's room, it was just so her. He placed her mask and gauntlets on the windowsill. Her bed was piled high with pillows and blankets, and her favorite pieces of artwork were taped on the walls beside her window, and next to those was her giant bookshelf full of every classic book known to mankind. There was a little empty slot on the third shelf, and he assumed that was where her copy of Catcher in the Rye usually belonged, which was currently sitting on her nightstand next to the framed photo of her parents.
