Spider-Man Imagines I

I'd Wait For You | Peter Parker [TH]

Peter Parker bobbed his head to one of his favorite songs as he walked down the sidewalk, hands on the straps of his backpack, humming the song under his breath. It was Friday (thank goodness) and after he was finished with Spider-Man duties, he would have a whole evening to nap.

Delmar's was almost in view as he scrolled through his music, hitting replay. He would be listening to the song again and again until it grew old and got annoying.

As he approached the tiny shop on the corner, he heard a particularly young and annoyed voice through the music blaring out of his earbuds. He lifted his head and saw a girl, probably his age, in a wheelchair that set low towards the ground.

She was trying to reach the door handle but, as rude customers pushed passed her and pushed through the doorway, she couldn't get in.

"Excuse me," she kept saying, her voice annoyed and tired.

Finally, the last customer came in. He let the door close behind him, leaving her outside. She lifted her arms off the wheels of her wheelchair and gave an exasperated sigh, shaking her head. Messy hair fell out of her loose bun and around her cheeks.

And of course, Peter being Peter, thought she was the most beautiful girl he'd ever laid eyes on. Great. Like he needed another crush to distract him from what he needed to focus on, like getting picked for another "retreat" or mission with Mr. Stark.

He felt his body moving through the air as he did a short sprint to the door. He grabbed the handle and pulled out his earbuds. "Here," he said politely, "let me get that for you, miss."

She looked up at him, smiling shyly. "Thanks," she muttered, placing her hands on the wheels again. He nodded as she wheeled herself inside.

He walked slowly behind her, not wanting her to feel like she had to rush to keep ahead of him. He made sure he didn't walk with long strides and looked at the menu as if he wasn't going to order the same stupid sandwich he always did.

"Sorry," he heard her say quietly as he grabbed two bags of gummy worms.

He looked down, crossing his arms. "Huh?"

"Sorry," she repeated. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "This is, uh, new to me. The wheelchair, anyway. I've never gone out on my own with it. I thought I'd be better at it by now."

"Oh. You don't have to apologize," he assured her. "I'm not in any hurry."

She appeared relieved. "Well, you're the first person in Queens to be this patient and kind," she said. "The last few people that have been stuck behind me weren't so forgiving."

"That's Queens for ya," he said lightly.

"Yeah," she agreed. "So, uh, my name is ___."

"Peter," he said. He nodded thoughtfully, trying to look cool all the while his heart beat rapidly in his chest. "You from 'round here?"

"Used to be," she said. "Same crazy bus accident that took my ability to walk took out the left side of my apartment, too." She smiled, but it was sad. "Nearly took me out with it. I managed to get by though."

Peter raised his eyebrows. "You lived on Third Street?"

"I did."

"Wow," he said. "I'm, uh, real sorry about that."

And he was. He was partly responsible for the accident. Several weeks ago, a bus lost its brakes and was speeding down Fourth Street, unstoppable and threatening the lives of every citizen out on the streets. Peter had no choice but to swing himself into the side of it, throwing it off the main road and sending it flying towards an apartment complex before it swerved off a bridge. His plan was to web it up and keep it from hitting the apartment, but he wasn't fast enough.