Chapter 9

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"Do you think I'm stupid?" Aunt May asked. "Pillows underneath your blanket, Peter. Pillows? I've raised you for 12 years Peter and just like your father and uncle I know you don't take naps in the afternoon."

They were inside the apartment, Aunt May practically forcing him inside so that they don't make noise and wake up the other tenants.

"Maybe today was different."

Aunt May scoffed. "Different? Please, I've been married to a Parker long enough to know how stubborn you all are."

Aunt May crossed her arms. "Where have you been?"

"Studying."

"Till 10 PM?"

"Like you said us Parkers are stubborn."

"Peter Parker, there's a reason there's a curfew and..."

Aunt May noticed the blood running down Peter's shoulders and her expression softened.

"Peter are you okay?"

Peter turned away from her eyes. "Yes, I'm fine."

"Get on the sofa."

"I said I'm fi..."

"I said get on the sofa, Peter," Aunt May interrupted, her voice firm. "You're bleeding."

Peter sighed and dragged himself to the sofa, his hip screaming in pain. He placed a hand on it and saw that he was in fact bleeding. Peter lay down on the sofa his bag on the coffee table as Aunt May rushed toward him carrying a First Aid Kit and some bandages.

Aunt May commanded Peter to remove his shirt. Peter obliged and put his shirt on the table.

"When did you get so muscular?" May mumbled, dousing a cotton swab with anti-septic. It stung, like someone was poking his body with a flaming hot stick but after the septic settled, Peter found it rather soothing.

"What happened?" May asked.

"Nothing."

Peter couldn't see May rolling her eyes but he knew she was doing that right now. "This doesn't look like nothing."

Peter figured lying to her wouldn't be the best idea. "I got into a fight."

May pressed the cotton bud so deep into Peter's wound, he cringed, almost ripping the sofa covers.

"That hurts," Peter mumbled. Aunt May loosened her grip but Peter could sense she was still angry.

"What kind of a fight?"

"It's none of your business."

"You're my nephew, Peter," Aunt May said. "As far as I'm concerned it is my business."

"Some guy tried to mug me," Peter lied. "With a knife. I managed to fight him off."

"Not very well, it seems."

With a delicate hand, Aunt May wrapped bandages around Peter's wounds. She also put some band-aid on the wound on his shin.

After she bandaged his wounds, Peter got up and stretched. The bandages felt tight, making his movements feel stiff. It didn't help that the bandages also made his body feel itchy. Very, very itchy. He was tired and ready to sleep but Aunt May wasn't having it.

"So, Peter, you have anything to say for yourself."

"I want to go sleep," Peter said.

Aunt May ignored him and went on. "You don't respond to my calls and messages. You ignore curfew and you barge in like none of that matters."

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