Safe and Sound

Chapter 6

When I get home I take a quick shower, cursing my lack of thermoregulation as I shiver in the cold water, plug in my phone, and crash in bed. But I can’t sleep. The ringing in my ears doesn’t stop, and neither does the throbbing in my knee, my side, my chest. I’m so tired… of everything.

    I’m tired of stressing about finances, and when May will come home. About the front door opening or when the next mugging will take place. Where my next meal will come from.

    If I was gone, who would be Spiderman? Who would help Aunt May to bed when she passes out on the couch? Who would make sure the apartment was locked up? Not that there’s anything worth taking in here anyways. Not like May doesn’t sleep with a pistol under her pillow.

    At some point I passed out because I woke to shouting the next morning, my ears still ringing. May is yelling at the water company over the phone again. We haven’t had hot water in over a month now, because she hasn’t paid the bill. Normally I’d help out but I need to save every penny if I’m going to move out next year.

    I slip on my un-intentionally ripped up jeans and a long sleeved shirt with the chemical formula for serotonin on the front, holes in the hem. I run a hand through my hair and rinse my face with cold water, then my knee brace and shoes.

    My head throbs as May continues shouting, but she’s in the kitchen. I slip through the living room and out the front door, bag over my shoulder, without being spotted.

    “Peter!” Ned is quick to catch up to me as I limp down the sidewalk. “Peter there you are. I thought you-”

    “Ned please be quiet.” I cover my ears with my hands. It hurts... 

    “Are you okay?” he asks more quietly. I shake my head carefully, trying not to make it worse. Every step makes my skull throb.

    “I got hit… my ears are ringing. It hurts…” I whine.

    “Oh man, do you need to go to a doctor or something? That sounds really bad!” he whispers, “I bet the advanced hearing doesn’t help.” he seems to mumble the last part to himself.

    “I-I’ll be fine.” I take a deep breath, taking my hands from my ears. Just one step at a time. Just get through the next thirty seconds. And the thirty seconds after that. And so on.

    We walk in silence for the next twenty minutes. Rather we don’t talk, but I wince every time a car speeds by or a stranger starts to shout for whatever reason. Soon Ned has to cross the street, headed for work, leaving me to finish the trek on my own.

    “Peter!” I cover my ears, ducking my head as someone shouts after me. It sounds like they yelled right in my ear, but I know they must be at least a few yards behind me. It hurts… I think my head might explode. “Peter?” the man asks more softly.

    I shake my head gently, leaning against the wall to let the ringing fade. When the throbbing doesn’t stop, I slide down the wall, head between my knees. I’m gonna be so late… I flinch away when someone puts their hand on my shoulder, my head shooting up to see Wade, but I quickly put it back down again, tears swelling in my eyes.

    “Peter? You okay? I messaged Tony and told him we’d be late.” Wade crouches beside me, whispering. “What happened to your head? You’ve got a big cut on your temple.” I can hear a car pull up to the curb, and a door opens and shuts.

    “Mr. Stark asked me to pick you up. Everything okay?” a male voice asks.

    “Peter, this is Happy, Happy, this is Peter, he doesn’t talk.” Wade gently, slowly grabs my arm, carefully pulling me up. “Come on, let’s get you in the car.” I keep my head down, staring at my feet as I let my hands fall from my ears, and Wade leads me to the black car.

I climb in, and buckle as Wade shuts the door behind him. The windows are tinted, and the only sound is the soft blow of the air conditioner. I look up and around to see Happy buckling up in the front seat.

“What happened to you kid?” Happy’s voice is low, and fairly quiet. “No wait, Wade what happened to the kid?”

“Well he got mugged the other day apparently, and now he… I don’t know.” Wade turns to me, rubbing his scarred jaw, “Do you have a pen and pad in your bag?” Wade whispers. I nod and pull it out.

“Just a bad migraine.” I write.

“He says he just has a migraine. A bad one.” the car pulls to a stop, and Happy checks his phone. “Come on Peter, let’s head inside.” Wade says.

I grab my bag, pen, and pad and crawl out of the car behind Wade, to see Mr. Stark standing by the front door, looking irritated.