IronDad & Just Dumb Stuff

These hearts were made for breaking P.2

Peter spent the night in an alley, though he didn't sleep much. Maybe an hour, maybe less. He couldn't sleep. May's arm was all that came to mind when his eyes closed, an echo of her laugh too sometimes, the way she would tuck his hair behind his ears when it got too long-

Tears rolled down his cheeks again. Not this early. Not right now. Peter wiped them away but didn't move from where he was sitting, leaning against the brick wall of some building in some dirty alley. It was cold in the morning, such a contrast to the heat he was jumping through only hours ago.

Peter twirled May's ring through his fingers and as he watched it he realized he was still in the suit, no mask. "Crap.." he mumbled through his teeth as he looked around. The alley was mostly empty, garbage here, garbage there, however, there was a shopping cart full of odds and ends at the opposite end to Peter.

Peter stood, immediately a sharp pain stabbed through both his feet and up his legs, Peter let out a quick yelp as he let himself fall to his knees, sure that hurt but the second he was off his feet the pain diffused into light painless throbbing. Peter maneuvered himself so he was sitting on his butt, he can't look at his feet right now because the suit was a two piece: mask and body.

Peter debated stripping down to his boxers to see what was wrong with them but decided he would power through until he was somewhere private. So Peter slowly stood again, wincing at the pain but making his way to the cart nonetheless. As he got closer he saw a large jacket on the top of the pile, he also saw there was a rather skinny woman sleeping up against the cart. Peter took a step back.

He can't take anything from it now. But he needed that jacket. But it was her property. Spider-Man wouldn't steal, especially not from the homeless. Well, Peter's not Spider-Man anymore. But even then, could Peter Parker steal? Is this what May would have wanted? No. No it's not.

Peter must have said some things out loud or alerted the woman with his presence because she was standing and pointing a sharp object at him. "Back off, Scrappy." She warned.

"O-oh. I'm sorry." Peter took another step back, he wasn't going to fight some lady over a jacket. Especially with his enhanced abilities.

Peter was about to turn and leave when she spoke again, "Hey, wait'a minute. Ain't you that Spider-Guy?"

"Yes. Well, kinda." Peter didn't think he should explain that he's quitting.

"You saved a couple buddies o' mine a few weeks back." She lowered the object and tossed it in her cart, "Was there something you saw in 'ere you needed?" She asked and gestured to the cart with her head.

"Oh, um. Could I, uh. Could I borrow your jacket? I'll bring it back as soon as I get some clothes.".

"Sure. And don't bother, I got another." She said as she handed Peter the large, ripped in some places jacket.

"Thanks." Peter said and slid the item on, zipping it up all the way, his legs were still visible but maybe everyone would think he was wearing weird leggings. The lady gave Peter a half smile which he mirrored before he turned and left the alley. The sun was barely up yet the streets were busy, then again, this is New York, the streets are always busy.

As he was walking around, he was getting weird looks from the adults who passed him. He must have had wild hair from sweating in the mask and taking it on and off yesterday, his nose was probably crooked, and he probably had dried blood in various places on his face, his eyes were probably still a little pink from crying, and he was wearing a dirty looking jacket with, what looked like to others, red and blue tights with matching gloves (he was wearing May's ring over his "gloves" too), and to top it all off: he was walking with the weirdest, most uneven limp.