Chapter 1

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It had been a long day for Peter Parker. Between his chemistry test, spilled lunch, and all the drunk guys he practically carried home in the rain during his evening patrol, he was wiped. When he carefully opened his bedroom window and quietly climbed into his room for the night, he immediately stripped off his suit and fell back onto his bed. There was nothing quite like the feeling of dropping like a dead weight onto a warm fluffy bed after a hard day.

The young teen would have fallen asleep as soon as his head hit his pillow if it weren't for his mutant senses, having been heightened to detect even the quietest whispers. Normally, the apartment was quiet at eleven at night because his Aunt May was in bed, cramming in a few hours of sleep before her pre-sunrise morning shift. But tonight, Peter could hear small sniffles coming from the other side of his door. He pulled himself out of his bed and crept to his door, pressing his ear close.

Yes, Aunt May was definitely crying.

Peter's heart began to race. The last time he saw his aunt cry was at Uncle Ben's funeral. He used to think that the dead were the most broken of humanity. That is, until he had looked into the eyes of his freshly-widowed aunt. Peter didn't want to see her crying again, but the compulsion to comfort her outweighed the small feelings of dread within him. He threw on some sweatpants and a shirt and stepped out of his room.

The only light came from a small corner lamp in the living room, casting dark shadows everywhere but somehow managing to dimly illuminate May who was seated at the kitchen's small island. Papers were strewn about. Aunt May had her face in her hands.

Peter slowly stepped over to her. Softly, he called out, "May?"

She jerked her face out of her hands, exclaiming "Peter! Your room was so quiet: I didn't know you were still awake!" May avoided looking at Peter. She began picking up some of the papers, organizing them, shuffling them: anything to seem more in-control than she had looked seconds before.

Peter stepped up to the counter and recognized the papers: bills. The teen didn't know everything about the way that their rent worked, but he knew that if their utility fees surpassed the amount covered by rent, their landlord would charge them the difference. It seemed like a good plan, but their rent didn't cover much so they always ended up with bills to pay. These plus the extra costs of phone plans, internet, cable, food, Peter's school fees, occasional emergencies, and other necessities required tight monthly budgeting. Peter ventured, "Is everything... okay?"

Aunt May forced a short laugh, "Of course, hun, everything's fine." Then, trying to change the subject, "You should really be getting to bed. You have school tomorrow."

"You should, too. What are you doing up so late?" Peter didn't want to let up. He knew May liked to be strong in front of him, but he wanted to help if there was something wrong.

May sighed, looking like a deflated balloon as her posture slackened. "Just, you know, sorting out some finances for the month."

"How bad is it?" Peter asked in a near whisper. The observant boy already partially knew the answer: it was always bad since Uncle Ben died. In fact, to make up for it, they had cut back on quite a few things in the house over the past few months. They no longer subscribed to Netflix or Hulu. In fact, they stopped TV altogether when they ended their cable contract. They also switched to a cheaper, shared data plan for their phones. The two also agreed that electronics be completely unplugged unless it was currently being used, that Peter arrive early to school to shower, and that laundry be done once every other week.

The shower situation really sucked, but Peter's least favorite cut-back was the food. May only bought enough food for breakfast and dinner, and Peter had to sign up for the free lunch program at school. Sometimes, when their cabinets looked truly empty, Aunt May would come home with a package of meat and a boxed starch, and Peter was sure that she had caved and stopped by a community soup kitchen on the way home. It had been really hard on him with his high metabolism, so lately Peter had been stopping at Ned's house on the way home from school for a snack. He felt guilty, but medical bills due to malnutrition were the last thing May should have to deal with.

"It's not‒"

"Please don't lie," Peter interjected.

May sighed again. Slowly, she turned her face to look at her nephew. She loved him so much. A kid shouldn't have to worry about finances. But things were looking bleak, and he deserved to know. "I don't know that we'll have enough to pay the rent for next month."

Silence.

May, reading the panic in Peter's face, rushed to calm him. "But don't worry about it! I'm already looking for another job‒"

"You already have two," Peter noted. The teen was angry at himself for his inability to hide his emotions well. "Let me get a job."

"No, no, no," May said, rejecting the idea. "You have school and the Stark internship. Those are too important for your future. Let me handle this."

"No, it's fine. Really. It was getting boring anyway. I'm not really getting anywhere with it. Not sure if I even want to be an engineer anymore," Peter lied.

"Peter." She stood up, brushed a stray piece of hair out of her nephew's eyes, and cupped his face.

Her eyes looked so sad. Peter was grateful for the dim lighting, hiding the tears that were forming in his own eyes. He took her hand off of his face and gave it a reassuring squeeze. "This is our best option," he spoke, forcing his voice to remain as steady as possible.

She looked away from him.

"May. Let me do this for us."

"Okay."

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