okay so to all y'all that i said i wouldn't make another part i am a liar do not listen to me
May Reilly Parker prided herself on her ability to keep her cool. Out of her and Ben, the Italian woman had always been the calmest.
When she heard news of Richard and Mary Parker's death, while she was hurting inside, instead of freaking out or shutting down, she held Ben as he cried and mourned his brother and his sister-in-law.
And when it finally hit her that the boy that was sleeping in the guest bedroom was now hers to take care of, she felt overwhelmed, but she didn't speak out.
She welcomed him with open arms. How could she not? While she and Ben had never talked about wanting kids, May didn't hesitate to raise Peter as her own.
Even when her husband died, she didn't break her calm exterior. She held her trembling boy (He'd been there. She felt bad for feeling glad it wasn't her that had watched him die.) She had whispered to him countless times that it wasn't his fault, that there was nothing he could have done.
Later that night, she'd cried quietly in her bed, clutching Ben's pillow. (Many, many nights.)
When Tony Stark showed up at her apartment talking about an internship for her nephew, she hadn't batted an eye, always knew how smart her sweet Peter was.
She refused to accept charity from him, though. May Parker wasn't stupid, and she despised pity.
But when her kid slowly started getting nicer, more expensive belongings, she didn't comment. (Peter Parker deserved the world.)
And if she warmed up to Tony Stark a bit, then who's business was it but hers?
When the few days after Peter got the "internship", Spider-Man suddenly had a high-tech upgrade, she suspected.
When she heard her nephew coming home at the early hours of the morning, she worried, but she said nothing.
And when she found Peter in his room wearing the Spider-Man suit, she swore, yeah, but she kept her calm. She took a breath, and she set some ground rules.
Later that night as she heard him climbing out his window, no longer trying to be quiet, she wondered how she hadn't seen the signs.
His sudden lack of glasses, the fact that his inhaler sat untouched for months, the way he seemed more alert, all the little things.
Now, as May sat in her kitchen at seven in the morning with the news on and a glass and open bottle of wine in front of her, she lost her cool.
She freaked out. Peter hadn't come home. Most nights, May sat up, awake in her bed until she heard her nephew's window slide open, heard him shuffle into bed, thinking he was being quiet.
Last night was one of those nights. His curfew was midnight, and he was still gone at 12:30. She called him, but didn't try again when she heard his phone ring in his room.
12:30 turned to 1:00 turned to 7:00, and May Parker was freaking out. No matter how late he was, (once not coming home until 4:00) he always came home. Always.
But this time he hadn't. And May had been sat at the kitchen table with her shaking hands clasped around a glass of wine for over three hours.
She'd even tried calling Tony a few times, but he hadn't answered. Now, she didn't know what to do.
May liked to think she was a strong woman, that she could take care of herself, but worrying about Peter Parker unraveled her, made her a complete and utter mess.
At this point, she was just waiting. Waiting for him to come home, waiting for a call back. Waiting.
There was one turning point, one moment that her world seemed to break apart. And she knew she'd rather be worrying.
Listening to the news had been the best and also worst decision she'd made. Her ears seemed to ring.
"-has been confirmed that Tony Stark was seen carrying Spider-Man's body from an alley near. . ."
May couldn't listen anymore, couldn't process anything.
She didn't process standing up so fast she knocked the wine bottle to the floor, didn't process the liquid splashing on her feet, didn't process the glass shattering in her hand, pieces cutting her palm open.
She didn't process anything, anything but those two words. Spider-Man's body.
Body.
Her boy was dead. Peter Benjamin Parker, her kid, her son was dead.
May didn't feel the tears that streamed down her face, nor did she realize that the muffled sobs she heard were her own, didn't feel the pain as her knees collided with the ground.
Before she even knew what was happening, she was scrambling to her feet and stumbling into her room, and grabbing her phone which lay on her bedstand.
Tony hadn't answered. Happy had better or she'd be hurting some people. He picked up the second she hit call.
"Happy," she gasped, struggling to speak through her sobs, "tell me it's not true. Please. P-please tell me m-my boy's n-not gone."
Her words were pleads, and she was never a religious person, but in that moment, she prayed to whatever god out there that the news was wrong.
Happy was silent for a solid ten seconds, seeming to just listen to her cries, before he finally answered. "I'm so sorry, May." He whispered, tears in her voice.
And May broke.
She dropped the phone, didn't bother hanging up, and left the room, ignoring Happy's distant calls for her.
Somehow, the woman found herself in his room, standing in the doorway and staring at his bed.
It was unmade, blankets scattered everywhere, homework strewn across it, and May didn't care one bit.
She walked over, and she lied down, clutching his pillow to her chest.
Burying her face in it, she could smell him, could almost imagine the nights she'd come in to brush his hair from his sleeping face and to press a soft kiss to his forehead.
Closing her eyes, May Parker lost her cool. She cried, and she screamed, and she mourned.
She cried until she had no tears left, and then she slept.
YOU ARE READING
irondad & spiderson oneshots
Fanfictioni was going to go through and edit all of this but actually i have decided i don't want to so just try and pretend it doesn't look like it was written by a 12yo (it was)
