The Broken Spider-Man - A Peter Parker Fanfiction

Chapter Eight - Peter moves in

TW: mentions of death, mentions of malnutrition, mentions of trauma.

Y/N's P.O.V

I drove my car into my building's parking lot, pulling into a random space before stopping the car. I put it into park and turned off the ignition before looking at the boy who sat in my passenger seat. Peter gulped and looked like a deer in headlights as his eyes darted around the window, studying the outside surroundings.

"Have you really not been back here in five years?" I scoffed quietly, trying to sound more shocked than judgemental as I looked at him. He shook his head and returned my gaze.

"To be honest with you, I thought that the next time that you and May saw me would be in a casket." He admitted. My eyes wavered and I tried my best not to cry at his words as I forced a smile onto my lips.

"Well, you're safe now, Pete. No more half-burnt down houses, or thugs who are waiting to rape women, or anything like that. Nothing but recovery from here on out, yeah?" I asked. He sighed and nodded, the pain in his eyes telling me that he was scared. I couldn't blame him, we both knew that the most painful hours of his life would start in a day or two. He was still ready, though.

"Come on, let's get your stuff inside." I nodded.

"What little of it there is." He chuckled slightly, making me give him a reassuring smile as I climbed out of the car. Peter did the same a moment later, his small body wrapped in a blanket that I'd had in the car as I opened the boot and took out his one trash-bag of stuff. Even the trash-bag was pretty much empty. After all, Peter only had two outfits of clothing, a phone, and about two dollars to his name. Which still only filled about a quarter of the trash-bag. Peter walked slowly next to me, his speed something that I was attributing to how weak he was as we headed into the building and up the stairs. Eventually we reached my floor and I immediately unlocked my door. It took me a moment to realise that Peter hadn't followed me into the apartment. I turned around, my heart breaking slightly as he remained stood at my door, head turned to look down the hallway. Head turned to look at May's door. His eyes wavered, a tear leaving them as he just stared at the structure.

"You want to go and see her?" I asked, Peter's head snapping back to look at me as I spoke. He sighed and looked back at her door briefly before shaking his head and moving into my apartment.

"No. I don't want her to see me like this. I'll go see her once I've recovered." He decided as he shut the door. I nodded as he walked into the apartment and looked around.

"This place has changed more than I thought that it would have. Looks more like you live here." He chuckled quietly as he walked in.

"Yeah. Obviously when I lived here with my parents, my tastes had to be limited to my room, but in the five years that you've been gone, they bought another house and let me stay here. I pay them rent and they live happily in a nicer part of Queens." I explained.

"There must be perks to your landlords being your parents." Peter stated as he gently ran his callous fingertips over the marble countertops in the kitchen.

"There are. Rent is next to nothing, apart from anything else." I chuckled. His eyes wavered at my comment and he looked down at his now joined hands.

"About that, Y/N, I, erm...I can't afford to contribute even a quarter to the rent until I'm back on my feet. I understand if you don't want me living here because of that." He nodded. I looked at him.

"Peter, you didn't actually think that I expected rent from you, did you?" I scoffed quietly. He looked back up at me, his red eyes telling me that he had gotten upset simply at the prospect of getting kicked out of my apartment. Which told me that we were already making progress.