The Tangled Web | Peter Parker

Chapter 18

I woke up the next morning with the worst headache I've ever experienced in my life. The curtains were drawn, but it was still letting in enough sunlight to wake me up. I brought my hand up to my face, pressing my palm into my forehead, hoping that the pressure would help alleviate my aching brain.

I opened my eyes, squinting as they adjusted to the bright light shining in my room. Wait. I looked around the room, staring at the posters that decorated the walls. This is Peter's room. How did I get here?

I sat up in Peter's bed, rubbed my burning eyes, and yawned. I sighed, looked down at my shirt, and pulled my eyebrows together in confusion when I realized the black t-shirt I was wearing wasn't mine. I kneaded the soft cotton material between my fingers, examining a small tear near the hem.

Images of Spider-Man suddenly flooded my mind. The walk home, the swinging, the flowerpot, the stairs, the shirt, the mask. Holy shit. Did- did that actually happen? I thought I had dreamt the whole thing, but the shirt on my body and the fact that I woke up in Peter's room told me otherwise. Peter.

If I had any doubts about Peter being Spider-Man before, they completely vanished after last night. It was so painfully obvious that he was the masked hero running around the city at night. It just makes sense.

He was always sneaking out late, acting weird, and lying. The mannerisms were the same. Hell, even the voice was similar at times. And the bruises; I had known for weeks that they weren't from skateboarding accidents. They healed quickly and then new ones would appear the next day. How did I not notice this sooner? Flashbacks of the suit lying on his bedroom floor flashed through my mind. Idiot. It was right there all along.

I shook my head, exhaling loudly as I rested my head on my knees. If Peter really is Spider-Man, then I lied to the man who questioned me the other night. Fuck. That means I need to be extra careful with what stories I run. And when I'm seen with both Peter and Spider-Man. My mind continued to race with thoughts, going over all of the what-ifs and worst-case scenarios about what could happen if the world found out Peter Parker was Spider-Man.

I sighed, letting my shoulders droop while I looked around Peter's room. My eyes landed on the bedside table, narrowing when they spotted a glass of water, some pills, and a note. I reached over, grunting as I picked up the note.

"Em, take this. You'll need it. You look like you had a rough night. I left a sandwich for you in the fridge. Please make sure you hydrate today. -Peter"

I let out a slow exhale through my nose, shaking my head as I reread Peter's note. I ran my fingers down the edge of the note before turning it over.

"P.s. What did you have to drink last night? You smell worse than that dead mouse we found in the basement five years ago. Okay, maybe not as bad...but still awful. Seriously, drink the water."

I let out a small laugh, rolling my eyes. Ass. I picked up the two pain reliever tablets and the glass of water, downing both in one quick motion. I pushed the covers off of my legs and swung my feet over the edge of the bed, thankful for the rug under Peter's bed that was acting as a barrier between my bare skin and the cold hardwood floor.

I groaned, rolling my head back as I grabbed a pair of Peter's plaid pajama pants off of the ground near his closet. I quickly slipped them on and turned to leave his room and venture for food. I swiped his hoodie off of the back of his desk chair, throwing it over my head as I walked downstairs.

I lazily walked into the kitchen, yawning. I opened the refrigerator door, smiling as I spotted the sandwich Peter had made and pulled it out, setting it down on the table. I slid into the chair, looking up at the backdoor as it opened. I bit into the sandwich, staring at an exhausted May who was walking through the door, still wearing her work uniform.