The Broken Spider-Man - A Peter Parker Fanfiction

Chapter Ten - Web shooters

TW: mentions of mental health issues, mentions of death, mentions of trauma.

I opened my eyes slowly, a loud groan leaving my lips as my neck was stiff and I couldn't seem to move my legs. I opened my eyes fully and my eyebrows furrowed as I wasn't in my bed. I looked down and sighed as I was lying next to Peter's body on the sofa, our legs side by side and my feet by his chest as the boy still slept soundly. I smiled slightly, figuring that we must have fallen asleep talking. At least he wasn't shivering anymore. Not that I was overly surprised, I was guessing that Peter's superhuman abilities had the potential to make his withdrawals slightly less painful than the normal person's, and maybe even make them last less time too. That was what I was hoping for, anyway. I groaned and tried not to wake Peter up as I removed my legs from under Peter's blanket and stood up, stretching out as much as I could. I looked at my phone and my eyes widened. It was nine-thirty am. Making me late for work.

"Shit!" I hissed as I scrambled to get dressed, not having time to change my underwear as I quickly threw on jeans and a t-shirt. I rushed back into the living room and yanked my sneakers on before running into the kitchen. I grabbed a glass and filled it with water before grabbing a few tablets of aspirin, figuring that Peter's withdrawals still wouldn't be that kind to him once he woke up. I dumped the stuff on the coffee table next to where he was sleeping before rushing out of the apartment.

Peter's P.O.V

Pain swept through Peter's body and head, making groans radiate from his chapped lips as he slowly started to wake up. His eyes fluttered open and he blinked harshly as the morning sun shone through Y/N's living room windows, the light almost blinding him. He looked around, his eyebrows furrowed as he couldn't see Y/N.

"Y/N?" he croaked, a sigh leaving his lips as he didn't get a response. He looked back down and he couldn't help but smile as there was an aspirin pill and a glass of water on the coffee table. Peter chuckled and shook his head at Y/N's kindness as he gently made himself sit up. He popped the pill into his mouth and washed it down with the water before checking his phone. His smile widened, a text from Y/N being present on the screen:

Y/N: Morning, sorry I had to dash, I was late for work :( hopefully the aspirin will help you feel a little less shit. Also, there's a surprise for you in the fridge. See you at 5 :).

Peter's eyebrows furrowed as he wondered what the surprise could be. He stood up and winced slightly, his body still too weak for most movement to not hurt. He headed into the kitchen and opened the fridge. Immediately, he spotted the Tupperware container with a post-in note on top of it. He took the container and read the message, tears pricking his eyes at the words:

Hey, sweetie. Y/N came to me and asked me to make that soup that I used to make when you got sick. I know that it won't stop the pain, but hopefully it'll help at least a bit. Love, May x.

Tears pricked Peter's eyes at the note. After all, his Aunt May was someone else that he had barely seen in the last five years. When everything had started to go downhill, he had utterly convinced himself that he was a burden on the loving woman, and so he had moved out at the first chance that he got and hadn't been back since. Now, he wanted nothing more than to go down the hall and see her, but he knew that seeing him like this would kill her, and so he had promised himself that he'd wait until he was healthy again. Suddenly, Peter got an idea. Just because he couldn't meet up with her yet didn't mean he couldn't see her. He nodded to himself, half forgetting about the container of soup as he placed his hand against the kitchen counter to see if he would still stick to things. To his surprise, his hand stuck, making his lips curl into a smile.