Pride Is Not The Word I'm Looking For

Chapter 8

BOOM!! I wrote 2 chapters in one day and I'm writing a one-shot for my other book RIGHT NOW.

I'M ON A FRICKING ROLL

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-+*+- Natasha -+*+-

A few hours after the fight, it was 6 in the afternoon, Natasha walked around the streets of Queens in a grey hoodie and cap. She wanted to know if the kid was okay.

She held the paper with his address tight in her hand. She was worried that he didn't make it home. What if he passed out in an alleyway and someone found him? What if he fell mid-swing and was dead somewhere on the side-walk?

5 - 20 Ingram Street. She found it.

It was a pretty small apartment complex, but it looked nice. There were gardens all along the side and vines grew up the building. It was peaceful.

She walked up the stairs and found the 5th apartment. She knocked on the door and Peter opened it a crack with a terrified face. Her worries evaporated. He was fine.

He relaxed as soon as he realized it was just her.

"M-Ms. Natasha," he stuttered with surprise, "what are you doing here?"

"I came to make sure you were okay. Those tranqs that Tony has are little bitches."

Peter nodded and opened the door completely and invited her in. He was dressed in a white shirt with some sort of science pun on it and red and black pajama pants.

The house was nice and really really clean. Not something you'd usually see in an abusive household.

"Ms. Natasha?"

She turned.

"Are you doing the spy thing where you try and figure out my life by looking around?"

She smiled and replied, "Only a little."

"So how in the world did you manage to make it here without passing out from the dart?" She asked.

"Super metabolism."

Natasha nodded.

"Are you okay?"

"Oh, yeah, I'm fine really I jus-"

The door banged open and Peter and Natasha both jumped. Someone was standing in the doorway. She was frail with long brown hair and light skin, she looked young but Natasha could tell that she was older than she looked.

"Peter who the f-," she started but then her eyes landed on Natasha, "You should have told me you had company."

"I'm sorry Aunt May, she just came to check in on me. Um, what are you doing home early Ma'am?"

"They said I could go home early so I could make sure that you were okay."

Natasha looked to Peter. His face was pale and his hands were shaking. This was Aunt May.

Peter mumbled an apology again and kept his head hung low. He wouldn't look her in the eyes.

She turned her head back to the woman who was walking to the kitchen. She placed her bag on the kitchen counter and turned to face the two of them.

"It's alright honey," she drawled, "as long as you learned your lesson."

Her words were sweet but her voice dripped with venom. This wasn't good. What did she do? Peter was going to get hurt and it was all her fault. She shouldn't have come here.