Sidekick <> Peter Parker

The Parents

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"You're sure that this is true, Rich?"

A woman, silhouetted by the light of the hallway behind her, leans against the doorframe. She has her arms crossed gently around her, her lean body wrapped in a thin nightgown. Her face is painted in worry.

"When would Pat ever lie, Mary?" Richard Parker turns away from the desk, facing his wife. His office is dimly lit, decorated in dark oak wood shelves and a desk. He rises from the seat. "Tomorrow they want to drop the kids off here while they go to the lab."

Mary shakes her head. "I guess...I—I just don't understand...what are they planning to do next? Confront him?"

"Who knows." Richard places his hands on his wife's shoulders, pulling her toward him. "Let's get some rest. We can talk to the Porters more tomorrow." Releasing her from the hug, Richard turns off the light to his office and they leave. Mary stops at another door in the hallway, poking her head through the doorway. Her son lies in bed, sleeping soundly. His blue night light casts a soft glow into the room. Mary sighs.

"C'mon, Mary. Let him sleep."

<>

"What do you mean, a car crash?" asks Mary.

Mary and Richard walk through the doors of S.H.I.E.L.D. at a brisk pace, with Agent Howard by their sides. Agent Howard purses her lips, keeping her voice calm. "The Manhattan Police were informed of a car crash. Two children in the backseat identified themselves as Torin Porter and Joseph Porter."

Unable to ask the question, Mary looks to her husband. No wonder the Porters never arrived at their apartment this morning. They must've got in the accident. Why would Agent Howard only mention the children?

"Patrick and Patricia, what about them?" wonders Richard, putting an arm around his wife. By the look on their faces, they already know. Agent Howard is simply beating around the bush, but the two S.H.I.E.L.D. agents know what it's like to lose team members, coworkers, and even friends to missions. Mary cannot believe a car crash of all things brought down the two scientists.

Agent Howard looks down, frowning slightly. She clears her throat, gazing between the Parkers. "I'm so sorry, I know how close you four were..." Agent Howard sighs. "Take as much time as you need. I'll be assigning Agents Nineteen and Twenty-Five to your on-going investigations. If you need anything at all, please let me know."

"O-of course," mumbles Mary, holding her chin high.

With one last long look, Agent Howard disappears in the busy S.H.I.E.L.D. crowd. Mary squares her shoulders, turning to Richard. "An accident? The morning after they—"

"Mary, not here. Listen, we know that Pat and Trish were heading for Italy in two days. They were on to something. We need to finish what we started."

Mary sighs heavily. "Okay, but we must be back before the funeral." Mary pauses, shaking her head. Her heart aches at the thought of the Porter children growing up without their parents. She can't imagine what it must be like. Her thoughts wander to her son, imagining the same fate for him. She frowns. "Poor children."

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On March 3rd, 2011 two people died. March 5th, 2011 two more people died. Two S.H.I.E.L.D. Agents in an airplane crash. Two renowned scientists in a car crash. Four friends. Four caring, devoted, hardworking, talented people. Four parents.

Separate funerals are held on the same day. Hardly anyone knows that the four were more than acquaintances. The children of the deceased sit still, confused and upset, hoping their parents will come back to them some day, even if it's no use. The children don't understand that this is a part of their destiny—a part of who they are supposed to become. The only thing they understand is how much it hurts.

At the end of March, while the two Porter children are moving into their grandfather's apartment, just a floor below them, a young boy is doing the same. While setting up her room, Torin Porter pushes open her window, letting the spring air sweep through her new bedroom. It used to be her grandmother's craft room. The walls were painted a light sky blue, and the view from the fire escape was calming. Torin crawls through the window, sitting on the stairs. Pigeons coo around her, wings fluttering as they restlessly settle around the buildings. Torin frowns, exhaling deeply. She stares down at her hands; there are tiny scratches on them from the accident. She shakes slightly, remembering the look on her little brother's face.

"Hey."

Torin's heart startles, and she shifts on the stairs. Below her, a boy stands on the stairs. He peers up at Torin, debating on whether or not he should come meet her. His hazel eyes squint against the setting sun, his curly hair covering his forehead in thick layers. He brushes some away from his eyes.

"Hi," she mumbles, swallowing quietly.

"I'm...I'm n-new here," he mumbles, trying to seem cheerful, but he too hides the hurt in the shadows of his face. Torin recognizes the look every time she looks at herself in the mirror.

Torin tilts her head. "Me too...I'm moving in today."

"Real—really?" he questions, his voice rising in surprise and excitement. He takes a step up the ladder. "Me too."

Torin slips further down the stairs, raising an eyebrow at the boy. She's intrigued. What a coincidence. Now she wants to know who this boy is, maybe he knows how to move on from this; how to be happy again. "What's your name?"

"Peter...Parker. Peter Parker," he informs, a little proud. He hurries up the rest of the stairs, standing on the stairs in front of Torin, he smiles, sticking out a hand. He saw his dad do it all the time when meeting new people. "What's your name?"

Hesitating, Torin reaches out and takes his hand. "I'm Torin Porter. Sometimes people just call me Torin, though."

Peter smiles slightly at her little joke, nervously glancing around the fire escape. "That...that's cool. I—I wish I had a nice nickname. M-my parents sometimes call me Pete..." Peter frowns, looking down at his shoes. He shakes his head, the shadows of hurt crossing his face again.

"Petey," Torin says quickly, trying to cheer him up. No one else deserves to be sad like she is. She doesn't want to see people hurt anymore. "That's a nice nickname." Torin pauses. "I like it."

Peter smiles, blushing. He scratches his arm, nodding his head in enthusiasm. It's only fair he gives her a new nickname back. "W-well, you need a new nickname too. How...how about...Tor? Like, uh, y-you know..."

Torin smiles reassuringly. "I love it. Thank you, Petey."

"S-so," Peter begins.

"Torin!" an older man calls. His voice drifts through the apartment and out into the open air. Torin sighs, standing up. She gives Peter a wave. "Torin!"

"Coming!" she calls, hurrying toward her window. She looks back at Peter, who stares at her hopefully. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Peter's face splits open with delight. He nods cheerfully, turning back to his own fire escape. "S-see you later, Tor."

"Bye, Petey," she whispers, closing the window behind her.

This might not hurt so much after all.

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In case there is any confusion, this story will be set before Homecoming, and just before Civil War. I will be writing stories that are during Homecoming and Far From Home, and No Way Home, but I'm not quite sure where I want it to go yet. I will update you as time goes on! As for this chapter, I hope you enjoyed it. It's a sad one, but it's supposed to lead us into The Sidekick story.

— Kate