Only One Left [COMPLETED]

Are You My Godfather?

Hey, guys! This is a challenge from Melancholy's Sunshine's book "A Father" chapter 8. This will be a short-story.

Also, this first chapter is the one-shot Melancholy's Sunshine created, I merely went through and rewrote/edited it to flow with my story.

Disclaimer: Ultimate Spider-Man belongs to Marvel/Stan Lee, and the start of this story belongs to Melancholy's Sunshine.

Enjoy!

8-year-old Peter Parker remained perfectly silent as he was quickly escorted out of the orphanage by a regal-looking woman in a black pantsuit. She was scary. Though her face bore the barest traces of makeup on her cheeks and lips, a pair of darkly tinted sunglasses hid her eyes, her brown hair was pulled up in a tight bun, and her shoulders remained in a sharp, straight line. Peter didn't know her name, or where he was even going with her, only that he was leaving the orphanage - possibly - for good.

The scary woman had shown up at the orphanage this morning with a briefcase of documents and a list of contacts. After a long talk with the system manager, she told Peter to gather his things and come with her. She hasn't said a word to him since.

He had no idea where she was taking him, all he knew (from eavesdropping on some of the caretakers) was that someone - a Godfather of his apparently- had unexpectedly popped up out of nowhere. Peter was dying to ask who his Godfather was - a name at least - but he was far too afraid of this woman to open his mouth. Even with her eyes covered, she didn't look friendly or nice. Her lips remained in an expressionless line that might as well have been sewn shut, and her demeanor was fast but prompt - like she was busy and didn't have time to talk, especially to an insignificant youth such as Peter.

Her strides were longer than his too, causing him to occasionally stumble as he rushed to keep up with her. His tattered and over-sized backpack (filled with his belongings - which wasn't much) was hanging from his back, the straps were being clutched tightly between small, white-knuckled fingers.

Peter had lost his mother and father when he was 3. He was put under the guardianship of his Aunt and Uncle, both of whom had been murdered in their home about two years ago. The child services took him in after that and placed him in the care of the orphanage while they looked for any other relatives or family members he could stay with. Nothing popped up within two weeks of searching. No relatives, no friends, and no family. Peter was all alone as far as he, or the child services, knew.

He had been alone for 2 years now - with not even one adoption between the time span. Not once. Nor had he made any lasting friends, aside from some of the nice ladies who gave him breakfast every morning. It was a year of being with the orphanage that Peter had supposed that he was just meant to be alone.

Until today, when a godfather he never knew he had suddenly appeared. The guy seemed to be okay enough for the matron to let this woman take Peter to him. Maybe he was wealthy?

The woman led Peter fast down the steps of the building. Her shoes made a dull thud as she walked. She urged him toward a shiny black car parked by the street, wordlessly opening the door and gesturing for him to get inside. As soon as he was sitting on the cool leather seats she followed him in. The driver up front, separated from his residence by a piece of thick black glass, pulled away from the curb as soon as the door was closed and smoothly joined in with the New York traffic.

Even though it was dark inside the sleek interior of the car, the women kept her glasses perched tightly against her face. Peter sat far from her, instinctively burrowing himself in between the seat and the locked door, trying to look as small as possible - a coping mechanism he picked up. To make himself look small so people wouldn't notice him and leave him alone - almost always effective, even with the bullies back at the orphanage.