The Wing-Woman (Peter Parker X Reader)

Round 7: Wished

I walked to my locker, Peter was already at his, stuffing some text books into his backpack. 

"Hey (Y/N), are we still on for later?" Peter asked closing his locker.

Flash overheard Peter, "Aw, does Penis Parker have a date with the beautiful (Y/N)? How nice of her to go on a date with a loser like you," Flash put his arm around my shoulder, "Why be with him when you can be with someone like me?"

I removed Flash's arm from my shoulder, "First of all, Peter and I aren't going on a date, I'm helping him out with some stuff. Second, Flash I would never agree to go on a date with someone like you. Especially not when I could be hanging out with someone like Peter instead."

  I could've sworn he turned green with envy at the fact that I liked Peter more than him. Without saying another word Flash left.

I turned back to Peter, his face was red. "You didn't have to stand up for me-"

I cut him off, not wanting him to think down about himself, "Peter, someone has to stand up for you. If you won't then I will."

Peter looked to the floor, "Th-Thanks."

"I'll see you at like seven-ish?" I asked.

He nodded.

"Fully clothed this time?"

"Yes." His face turned even more red.

---- Time Skip to Seven-ish ----

I knocked on his door hoping that May would answer it, she was funny, cute with her nephew and was quite fun to be around. I heard some shuffling inside and the door swung open. It was May.

"Well, hi (Y/N)!" May said cheerfully, "Peter didn't tell me you were coming over."

"No?" I raised my eyebrow, confused. Why wouldn't Peter tell May I was coming over? That's a bit sketch.

"Probably because he's jealous of our friendship." She joked as she stepped aside to let me in, "He also isn't home yet."

"Oh." My shoulders slouched a little, until I caught them and lifted them back into place. "I could leave-"

May cut me off, "Oh, nonsense!" She waved her hand, "I'm sure Peter will be back soon. In the mean time," she paused and leaned forward a bit before whispering, "We can look at Peter's baby pictures."

She ran into the living room like a child running into a candy shop. I giggled and followed after her. I plopped on the couch as she pulled a book from a shelf.

"I'm so excited." May said while sitting next to me.

"Why?" I tilted my head.

"I've never gotten to do this before." She saw the confused look that stayed on my face, so she elaborated, "I've never gotten to show these to anyone. Not his friends, he's always around. He barely looks at them himself. In fact, I had to hide it from him to keep it." She chuckled.

"Doesn't he like to see his past, how far he's come, how much he's grown?" I asked, knowing I had many scrapbooks of time that weren't that important but when I made them they seemed like the most critical moments of my entire life. I had almost twenty while in Peter's whole life was in one.

"No," May sighed the mood in the room changing when she did, "He doesn't like to look at his past, that boy has grown up because he's been through a lot, you know." She paused before continuing, "After the accident any pic-"

I cut her off, "What accident?" My heart sank in my chest as she told me about Peter's past because he sure wasn't going to. 

"Let me just start from the beginning," She stopped waiting for a response. I nodded, she continued, "Peter was born a healthy baby boy in Forest Hills, New York, his parents loved him dearly, and he love them. His life then was blissful, full of joy, adventure and love." She flipped through the first few pages showing me just how perfect his life was. 

Why hadn't Peter mentioned his parents before? Why wasn't he living with them? Were they still the same happy family from the photo?

"Until one day, Peter was six and was here in this exact room playing with Ben when my phone rang." Ben? Whose Ben? "I stepped into my bedroom and answered it. I didn't expect to hear that my nephew was now an orphan. His parents died in a plane crash overseas." Tears began to roll down my cheeks, "Telling Peter that he wasn't even going to see his parents again was the hardest thing I've ever done. He didn't talk for months, stopped eating for almost one, he just wasn't himself. Almost three years past before Peter opened up and let us in. He talked to us and we were together. I wished we could've stayed like that forever." Wished. Wished, past tense, meaning it didn't. "A few months after Peter turned twelve, it was sometime between midnight and one in the morning. I heard banging and shuffling from the kitchen. I rolled over and saw Ben sound asleep next to me. I woke up Ben and he told me to go into Peter's room, lock the door, and call the police. I did just that grabbed my cellphone and ran into Peter's room. Peter was woken up by the sound and was walking towards the door to investigate when I walked in. I sat in front of the door and told Peter to be very quiet, as I called the cops. As the phone was ringing we heard footsteps coming from the hallway. I've never felt so helpless. After I was done talking on the phone I heard a gunshot from the hallway. I hugged Peter tighter and cried. When the police showed up they took the man away to jail. They took Ben to the hospital and he died later that day."

The door opened quietly as Peter entered his apartment, "Hey May, I'm home!"

Here I was sitting on his couch, tears streaming down my face, holding his only scrapbook in my lap open to the first page; a picture of Peter, his parents, Ben and May. I froze, how on earth was I going to explain this?