Starkly in Love- A Spiderman x Reader

Chapter 8: Benched

  I woke up to the usual blaring alarm on my phone, clinging to what I thought was a dream of Peter and I. A sleepy smile drifted over my face as I remembered that it wasn't

* * * * *

  A week had passed since my life took a turn for the better and I hadn't even heard from Peter in that time. Part of me wondered if he regretted saying what he said. Truthfully, most of me thought that. But the rational part of me suspected he had something to do with the ongoing ventures of the increasingly unpopular Void.

  My father was now almost always busy with something that had to do indirectly or directly with him. Clean up jobs, organizing research him, and so many other things. 'Void' was probably the reason I hadn't heard from Peter, Peter with his hobby of swinging around with his chemically engineered webs.

  Pushing the doubt to the back of my head I grabbed a protein bar and wandered over to the galls-surrounded living room. I plopped down in the middle of one of the three couches directly in front of the abnormally large tv. I clicked it on as I ripped open my protein bar, ignoring the sounds coming from the channel. That is, until a video of burning buildings with flashy subtitles. I snatched the remote up from the cushion beside me and quickly turned the volume up. I really hoped this wasn't going to turn out like last time I watched the news.

"... The evil mastermind Void is still on the loose despite the effort from the local superhero Spider-Man. Tony Stark has been involved on the sidelines through most of it but has not stepped into the action. His open display of trust for the younger hero appeased most of us up until recently-" the screen switched to a video filmed on a phone with a voice-over. It was a painful of video of Spider-Man, Peter, mid-battle with the black and purple clad villain who managed to catch him off-balance and smashed him into a wall where Peter sunk to the ground and remain motionless. I could feel the replaying impact like it was me on the screen-" in the last encounter Spider-Man was incapacitated and has been benched by Tony Stark who appears to be managing him." 

 I flipped the news off and let my head fall into my hands. It was like Washington D.C. only 10x worse for many reasons. Let me give you some: I wasn't there with my dad and whatever Peter was to me, friend or lover,  I felt helpless because of it, and I had no idea what condition Peter was in. Surely if he was critically my dad would have called me.

  My almost no existent breakfast long forgotten, I found myself drawn to my dad's workshop in the basement. It was obviously not our average workshop. Most in-home workshops didn't have robots that helped you build your Ironman suits that you fight aliens in.

  The door was unlocked so I just walked in. Tony obviously wasn't in there because he was out in, I believe, Maryland trying to keep Void at bay. The robots were powered off and it was almost depressingly dark and empty with everything unusually neat and put in its place.

  The concrete floor was cold even through my out of season Christmas socks as I strolled over to the kitchen nestled into the corner of the large workspace. I rested my elbows behind me as I looked out over the space. The fact that I really missed my dad and Peter back-handed me in the face so I let my legs give out and I sank to the floor. A few tears slipped out of my eyes.

  I wish I knew what 'benched' meant for Peter.

* * * * *

  I fell into an uncomfortable sleep slouched on the floor of the workspace intentionally because I didn't want to get up. I woke up curled in a fetal position on the floor, ever part of me aching.

I still didn't want to leave one of the only places in the house that my dad actually kept personal things, this space was almost an extension of him, but the angry noises coming from my stomach persuaded me to do otherwise.

The knots in my back and shoulders needed a little working as I stumbled up the stairs and they were still very much there as I entered the kitchen, but I felt almost okay. Well, physically okay.

I tried not to think about what could possibly be happening with Peter while I gathered ingredients for waffles, but as we all know, trying not to think about something produces the opposite effect. Every scenario played out in my head, from only a few simple broken bones to things I don't want to think about (Infinity Wars anybody?)

During the process of making the waffles, I almost incorrectly measures about 50 things and then almost burned more than a handful of them. In the end, they were edible if I poured enough maple syrup over a ton of butter. They weren't my best batch but the flavor wasn't the point, the point was to shut my stomach up and give me something to run off because Stark knows when I'll force myself to make anything else.

  I took my plate of waffles and, still in my pajama shorts, over-sized t-shirt, and mid-calf socks, I padded out onto the balcony. Sitting down inches away from the pure glass railing, I zoned out as I stared off into nothing. My instincts took over and I ate without thinking. I was as calm as I had been the whole week which is sad because it was because I wasn't thinking about anything.

  Mid mindless bite, my phone buzzed in my shorts' pocket. My mind clicked back to reality and I pull it out of my pocket.

  It was from my contact Tony Father Stark. "I'm sending over my jet, be ready in 20."

 I did as I was told.