The Butterfly Effect: a Peter Parker Fan Fic

Part 23; Aftermath

I wanted to tell you all my secrets, but you became one of them instead ~ anonymous

I drop down into an alley and deactivate my suit. My hands begin to tremble even more and my mouth waters for the nicotine. I crave it, I need it. My legs carry me into the nearest convenience store as fast as they can and I approach the man at the counter.

"I need cigarettes," I order. He seems to be around my age, presumably working at the store as a part-time job.

He's caught off guard with my abruptness and doesn't move, drifting his eyes lower and lower from my face. Pervert. I hiss, "eyes up here pal! Get me cigarettes. Now!"

He fumbles with the lock for the backroom and once he does get it, stumbles in. I bump my fist repeatedly on the countertop, trying to get some of the cravings out. Of course, it doesn't work.

I'm still in shock. Peter and MJ are obviously a thing now, with both of their feelings out in the open and fucking Flash knows about my secret identity which just ruins everything. If I think my life is complicated enough, the world just keeps throwing more and more problems at me to the point where I'm literally waiting to breakdown.

The guy returns with a box and I breathe a huge sigh of relief, reaching for my purse in my pocket. My fists clench when I realize they are empty. I smile forcefully at him, "so, pal. I forgot my purse back at my hotel. Can I give you an IOU or do you have anything else in mind?"

His face explodes with happiness as his eyes instantly drift towards my boobs again. How desperate is he?! "Jesus," I scoff, "you want me to show you my tits?"

He nods eagerly. "How many girls have you ever talked to?" I ask him, genuinely.

He looks away from me and bites his lip. "Do you even speak?" I ask another sincere question.

"Not to girls," he mutters.

Why am I not surprised?

Despite how desperate this kid is to see a pair of mounds, I am desperate for these cigarettes. I just need them, to take the edge off.

I let out an exasperated sigh and reach for the zip on my jacket, "I can't believe I'm going to do this."

He grins relentlessly and my jacket slips off on to the floor. I hesitate when taking the edge of my shirt between my fists. He rests his face in his hands in anticipation and I swallow the lump in my throat that doesn't seem to disappear.

I'm about to pull out when the overwhelming wave returns. I just need one, just one. Then I'll never do it again. It sounds like a do-able plan.

Let's do it.

I pull up my shirt slightly and show a small fraction of my stomach. I feel the urge to hoist it upwards in one, but a pair of familiar hands rest on top of mine, restricting me from moving it at all.

"She won't be taking those today," Peter says and I try to wriggle out of his strong grip, which is basically impossible. "Let's go," he adds, picking up my jacket and dragging me out of the store.

"Don't you ever go away?!" I snap, waiting for him to flinch or even wince, but his face doesn't shift from the same stern expression. My insides scream with frustration as I succumb to him pulling me along. We stop at the park near the motel we're staying at and he leads me to sit on the bench. Instead of sitting down beside me, Peter stands, towering over me. He reaches into his pocket and tosses me a box of something.

I peer down at my lap, not being able to read the words in this light, "what is it?"

"Patches. Stick one on your arm," he firmly states.