Blinded by the light

Meet the crew

Eventually, he finds the others.

——

Peter B comes first. He's brighter and happier than ever before, wrapped in a delightfully ridiculous fuzzy pink bathrobe, and cradling a baby of all things.

His eyes widen in awe as he's introduced to the child. "May," he learns, and the name brings a warm softness to his heart.

Mayday has wild hair and rosy cheeks; she's likely one of the few babies he's ever encountered who isn't wailing out of cold, fear, or hunger. Instead, her vibrant spirit and bubbly energy have her bouncing all around, spreading joy in every little movement.

Peter offers B a congratulatory nod, only tensing slightly as the older man throws his arm around his shoulders.

"Noir! I was wondering when I'd see you around. I knew you just had to be hiding out somewhere," he exclaims.

Peter B. simply shrugs in response, making a conscious effort to greet the other man in the hallway whenever their paths cross.

——

Peni is a different matter.

She's grown, matured. A seriousness that wasn't there before hovers like a cloud and the time spent away hangs heavy from her shoulders. She is taller and there's bags under her eyes and she sends him a soft smile anyways because she is still the kind little girl he'd met before.

"Are things alright with you?"

She shrugs," I'm okay... things have just been hard."

Peter nods, choosing not to press. Questioning can often bring more harm than good and he was never good at telling when and what he should ask.

"I'd help. What ever you needed I'd always help."

"Thanks," she replies, her voice softening. "That means a lot to me."

They fall into a comfortable silence, simply enjoying each other's presence without the need for more words.

——

Gwen pops up like a daisy, sudden and unplanned, with no place to stay.

A few nights later, she stands before Peter, looking uncertain as she asks if she can sleep in his world. He can't quite grasp why she would want to.

He agrees anyway, scrambling to find extra blankets for her. Maybe he should check with the others to see if they have any spares?

(Later, she tells him about Mayday, how the baby wakes up screaming every night. She shares how Peter B. is so loud when he moves through the house to prepare a bottle or change her.

And even later, she whispers about Peni, already stressed and exhausted, her own world still in recovery.

"Your place is quiet. It's nice," she admits, her expression earnest.

Peter isn't sure how to respond.)

He's under no dilution that his apartment is even halfway nice, but Gwen's presence makes it seem just barely preferable to being homeless. It's drafty and cold and bare save for the random bits of doodads he has laying around. The floor creeks under their feet and the whole place smells of smoke.

"Sorry it's not the berries or anything," he says, breaking the silence as he leads her to the bedroom.
"No, it's fine. I hate to bother you," she replies, glancing around the room.
"You can sleep here; I'll take the couch. If you're hungry, feel free to check the cupboards or the icebox—I usually have something. Oh, and don't open the door. I always come through the window, and probably don't go outside in general."

They tiptoe around each other until it becomes too tiring to do so. It becomes bearable and Peter can't even say he minds it, the couch only being slightly more lumpy than the bed and colorful borrowed blankets making it seem more cheery.

——

Porker and Miles never arrive.

Peter sometimes spends the quieter days wondering about them.

——

It doesn't last.

Soon Gwen goes on her own missions and makes her own friends closer to her own age then Peter is. She starts spending more and more time with someone named Hobie and soon she is staying the night there as well.

Peter waits for things to drift back to how they were before Gwen appeared, but when they don't, he feels off-kilter.

He starts to get invited to hangouts and missions and lunches. His apartment is regularly invaded by the three teens and he doesn't quite know how to react.

When he asks why they have decided to include him, Gwen huffs and knocks him in the shoulder.

"You peters are all alike, it's because we like having you around."

Next to her Paviter nods his head eagerly," yah! And Miguel said we have to have an adult chaperone us for a month after we accidentally destroyed the salad bar."

"Says you, everything I do is purposeful." Hobie interjects, grinning mischievously.

The two are strange. They don't seem to be duplicates of any of the other spiders and they don't appear to be very interested in whatever grand purpose Miguel is always spewing about, more interested in interacting with all the different spiders.

Paviter is new to the gig and is filled with an excitement that Peter struggles to understand. For him, being Spider-Man is just a thrilling adventure rather than a daunting responsibility. He's always on the move, chatting, cracking jokes, and radiating an energy that feels foreign to Peter.

Hobie was different. He wasn't afraid to talk back to Miguel or any of the other spiders who seemed to be in charge. He was a self proclaimed agent of chaos and seemed to make it everyone else's problem.

He was also so different from the others. The self sacrificing nature Peter had grown so accustomed to everyone around him having was no where to be found in Hobie.

(His parents, his aunt and uncle, Robbie, who was the last person he spent any time with who wouldn't throw themselves away for the mission?)

And that's not to say Hobie was selfish, the man is a revolutionary and it showed. Instead of placing himself in the line of fire, he makes it so the gun never goes off at all.

He operates on his own terms, doing only what he wants, and Peter can't help but watch with amusement as Hobie's defiance drives Miguel up the wall.