Peter really wished May were here. She would know what to do in a situation like this. Peter could walk home knowing that his caring aunt would be there waiting in their tiny Queens apartment with open arms and words of comfort. She'd hug him, and do that thing where she'd tuck his head under her chin and card her fingers through his hair. Then she'd ask him what was wrong in the voice she reserved specifically for her nephew and he'd tell her everything. And May would reply with gracious advise, telling him exactly what he needed to hear but maybe couldn't tell himself.

But that's where the fantasy ended, because he didn't know what May would say because May wasn't here anymore.

Peter really wished May were here.

Happy cleared his throat obnoxiously from the drivers seat, causing the teen to start in the back of the limo.

"Despite my usual complaints," he ventured rather awkwardly, "it actually is quite unsettling for you to not talk the entire ride back to the Tower. You okay, kid?"

Peter sighed heavily. It was such an easy question, a simple yes or no answer would suffice, yet Peter found he didn't know. Was he okay or was he just going through the motions? Was he okay and it was just everyone else falling apart around him? Was he okay or was he just dreaming? Had this just been a terrible, never-ending nightmare and he'd wake up in his apartment to the smell of burning breakfast or was May really dead? Peter felt like he was reliving her death all over again, but his grievances didn't feel the same.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Peter ended up saying, his voice sticking with the thick lie. Only after he said it did he realize it wasn't true.

Happy grunted deep in his throat but didn't say anything more. After all, it wasn't his job to worry, only to get him home from school.

After that, the ride seemed to go faster. An hour drive felt like ten minutes and too soon Peter was scrambling to pull himself together enough to face everyone and everything inside.

Happy parked the car in the garage and Peter sluggishly opened the door and got out. His backpack felt like it was full of bricks upon his back, causing him to drag his feet across the floor. Even though he'd only been back one day, exhaustion clawed at his burning eyes with nails as sharp as knives. He felt downright sick with the illness curled inside the crevices of his mind.

Upon entering the common room, Peter immediately knew something was off. For one thing, the Tower was oddly quiet, even the rooms only his enhanced ears could hear. And for another, Tony was sitting on the couch with Wanda curled up against his side, a hot pack resting against her forehead.

Good, the teen thought, continuing on his way. I didn't want to talk to him anyway.

  Now, it wasn't that Peter didn't want to talk to anyone, it was just that he didn't want to talk to Tony necessarily. The man was everything Peter had ever dreamed of having in a father, but a father was simply just not what he needed at this time. He needed a mother. He needed a May. There was a gaping hole in his chest, one that had been there for a while now, and it was more present then ever. 

  And so, he found himself on the business floor of the Tower, stalking down the hallway in all his glorified teenage angst.

***

  Pepper barely looked up when the door to office opened. She was positively drowning in paperwork, and god forbid whoever entered was there to help her with it.

  "What is it?" She demanded rather harshly, finally looking up from her computer to find a quivering teen standing in her doorway. "Oh, hello, Peter."

  Peter looked frozen to the spot, a look of upmost horror on his face-if you could even call it that. It was a mixture of embarrassment and desperation, as if he couldn't believe what he'd just done but at the same time knew it had to be.

  Pepper gave him a quizzical look when he didn't answer. "Peter, are you okay?"

  This time, he couldn't lie. "No," Peter choked out as the first of many tears spilled over his cheeks. He came forward, hands out in a grabbing motion. He collapsed in Pepper's arms when she met him halfway. Sitting in a ball on the office floor, did he tell the woman everything.

  "I-I just feel so lost. Like no one is there for me and I'm still hung up on May's death while everyone around me is just moving on," Peter sobbed while wiping at his eyes furiously. "I just-i miss her so much. S-she always knew what to say."

  Pepper, on the other hand, was at a loss. She ran her fingers through the teens sweaty curls, trying to soothe him as best she could while she listened.

"I just want to feel normal again! I'm so..so sick of something bad happening every time! Why can't something just go my way for once!?"

The teen hopped from grievance to grievance, weeping over every single one. Pepper could tell he'd been holding it in for too long and her only regret was not seeing it sooner.

"Peter, can you try to calm down for me? I don't want you to get any more worked up," Pepper tried, her voice sounding small in the midst of Peter's wails.

Peter hiccuped. "'M sorry," he stammered.

Pepper shushed him. "No. There's no need to apologize. You sound very stressed out. Why don't we get you to bed and we can talk about this later when you're more calm? Does that sound okay?"

Peter's head lolled to rest on the woman's shoulder. "Yeah...'m tired."

"I know, baby, i know."

Just like May used to say...

Very...shitty chapter. Sorry it took me a while to write. Next one will be better.

9.10.19