11 : Butterflies
CHAPTER ELEVEN
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Mae sighs relievingly when she closes the door of Gwen's old room that she has now occupied, her back against it. Dinner at the Stacy's has not been pleasant ever since the incident at the bridge, and Harry's coma. Too much has changed this past week. From her realising yet again that she was practically useless in her family of heroes, to uncovering the truth about the Lizard and how behind the slimy skin resided the scientist who used to be her mentor-- things just seemed to be getting worse than it already was.
She grits her teeth annoyingly. It's hard enough to be under the same roof as an ignorant man like Captain Stacy, and him being one of her best friend's father doesn't help at all. For the past three evenings surrounding the dinner table, Mae has resisted her urge to punch him several times. His words of spite infected her like poison whenever they spewed out of his mouth-- his accuses at Spider-Man, calling him 'nothing but a vigilante who should be arrested for interfering into cases meant for the NYPD' and as though that wasn't enough, he had the audacity to badmouth Peter-- the Peter whose heart is nothing but good-- as he asked Gwen to stay away from the boy.
Gwen objected subtly, careful to not add fuel to the fire. In today's dinner, he had informed her and Mae that Peter had visited him earlier that afternoon, 'throwing accusations at Dr.Connors and saying he transformed himself into the Lizard.' Obviously, the girls didn't expect him to believe Peter, Mae even wondered what was going through the boy's head when he decided to casually fling this information on the captain of the New York police force.
Mae huffs. Still, she doesn't like it when he talks about Peter like he's inferior. Maybe she is being protective? She doesn't get it. Peter has been lingering in the back of her mind this entire week and in her peripheral vision, she realises that she has been thinking about him more often than not. She finds herself checking her phone for notifications from him every ten minutes, distress taking over her when he doesn't respond to her texts on time.
She groans as she lazily stumbles on the bed, her face sloshed into the pillow. Peter has been on Mae's mind excessively the past week, and the thought of him sends a strange feeling to her stomach-- a feeling that is foreign to her.
"How would you describe the feeling?" Gwen had asked her yesterday when Mae decided to confer her feelings to her. The smirk tugging at the corner of her lips told Mae that Gwen knew exactly what that feeling was.
"Um," Mae mumbled uncertainly, trying to encrypt her thoughts into words. "It's like... a tingling sensation in your stomach-- but there aren't any physical factors that should make me feel ticklish."
Gwen raised her eyebrows, her smirk enlarging. "You mean like butterflies took over your stomach?"
Mae bit her lip as she scrunched her forehead together, considering the idea. "Yeah..." she says.
Butterflies.
Hell, that made no sense.
Mae shakes her head violently, snuggling into the pillow as though that would help her escape her incoherent feelings. She tells herself that the only reason for Peter's constant presence in her mind is so she can find a distraction from the setback revolving around this.
Now, she realises she may have underestimated this. Peter proved to be too good of a distraction, although she can't tell if it's a healthy distraction.
Maybe if I use something else as a distraction I'll stop overthinking, a voice in her mind says and Mae determinedly nods her head, ready to spring this insignificant idea into action.
She sighs in defeat almost immediately. What else could she think about? The remaining options aren't that appealing-- her isolation from her family, Dr. Connors almost killing her father... the list only gets worse.
Impulsively, Mae's head turns to look at the window, her mind automatically drifting to the two times that Peter snuck in on her from there. One time was when Gwen was with her and the other time was when she was at her worst. Mae wonders if Peter hadn't come to visit her then, would she have been able to get through to the day? That was potentially the worst day in her small life, and Peter's sudden visit made her feel a little less horrible about herself.
She finds herself walking towards the window, gently unbolting the locks-- just in case Peter decides to drop by again. She won't mind his company. You're stupid, her inner voices mocks her. Mae frowns, her cheeks flushing red in embarrassment. Of course she is stupid, there's no reason for Peter to come visit her this late.
Peter. Her mind spirals in a disarray once again. After days of convincing, he had finally agreed to include Spider-Man in the plan, if that was even possible. But Mae's mind is filled with doubts, suspicions arising every time she tries to interlink Peter with Spider-Man. Did he know who the man behind the mask was? Mae has been dying to ask Peter ever since this question haunted her.
The voice in her mind decides to speak up again. What if he is the man behind the mask?
Mae's eyes widen at the idea itself. Peter in the Spider-Man suit. As much as she would like to shrug this thought is just another baseless theory her mind made, it fit too well. It would be too convenient to think otherwise, but Peter as Spider-Man is definitely plausible.
But of course, the chances of him actually being the teenage boy behind the mask are close to none.
Her mind once again takes a shift, recalling old memories with Peter. Two months ago, she let him slide through Oscorp even though he didn't have an ID. He did it because he 'liked science', he said, which obviously was a hopeless excuse for a reason to trespass. But Mae let him do what he wanted to anyway. Was it because she trusted him too much? She knows that Peter would never do anything to harm anyone else. Maybe she just wanted to satisfy her long-term friend.
Just like that, another question springs into her mind. Why did he want to explore Oscorp?
Her thumb ends up between her teeth as she contemplates on all the possible reasons Peter would need to explore Oscorp. The answer swarmed in her mind almost immediately. Richard Parker. Her mind muses, Peter's late father. She vaguely remembers hearing Harry talk about a project Peter's dad and Dr. Connors were working on. If that succeeded, that invention could have changed the world.
The repeated sound of a knock disrupts her thoughts. Mae sat upright abruptly, tilting her neck to look at the window. Just as she had half expected, it was Peter Parker crouching on her windowsill.
But she doesn't pass him a smile of delight as she normally would. She gasps in horror, staring at Peter with wide eyes. Like the last time he visited, he was hurt-- but it wasn't like this. Mae rushes to the window to his aid, eyebrows arching worriedly as she takes a look at his bruised face and a large gnash on his abdomen from where vermillion blood spewed profusely. She carefully takes his arm and guides it over her shoulder, helping him slowly to the study chair as Peter limped.
That is when she sees what he is wearing.
Mae freezes.
Peter almost stumbles at the sudden loosening of her grip and clutches on her shoulder tighter to maintain his limp stance. "Hey!" He calls, looking at her with contorted brows. However he becomes silent when he follows her eyes.
After what feels like forever, Mae draws her eyes from the well known spider symbol on his chest and meets Peter's guilty gaze. "You're Spider-Man?"
Peter slowly retrieves his hand from her shoulder and limps towards the bed by himself, groaning in pain as he sits on it. Once he settles, he looks up to meet Mae's ghastly face and passes a toothy grin. His palms fanned out as he mimicked the jazz hands, "Surprise?" He tries, his forehead frowning with uncertainty.
Mae raises a single eyebrow and scoffs. Just moments ago she was arguing with herself, deciding whether Peter was Spider-Man or not. And now here he is: in a scarlet and sapphire suit she knows all too well, but the mask is absent. Her mind scurries in haste, trying to stick to one thought at a time. How should she react to this? Should she be angry that he was hiding and lying to her all along? Should she be hurt that he didn't trust her enough to dwell his secret into her? Should she be happy for him? Scared of him?
Her eyes widen when at last, the truth dawns over her. Tears start to well up, blurring her vision. Grateful. The voice in her head muses almost sadly. That's right, she should be grateful for him. She watches him closely as Mae fights to blink her tears out, Peter gaping at her worriedly when he realises she's crying. Following the least of his expectations, Mae's lips curve into a small grin.
Peter is the reason her father is still alive today, and the recognition of that completely rotated her perception. Before, it was just Spider-Man who saved her father, someone she didn't know who, but was eternally thankful to. But now it's Peter Parker, one of her closest friends who saved her father-- saved her-- because she truly doesn't know what to make of her life without Harry's presence.
Peter continues, fumbling over his words as he tries to speak. "Listen, Mae, I'm sorry. I-I guess I should have told you--"
"Thank you."
The two words effortlessly flow out of her mouth, her grin becomes larger as she looks at Peter's confused reaction. He tilts his head, "Thank you?"
Mae makes her way to the shelf by the bed, opening the first drawer to retrieve the first aid kit. Peter's eyes follow her, still visibly perplexed. "You saved my father's life and almost managed to get away without a thank you." She says, carefully cleaning the wounds on his face. Peter watches her in a daze, his expression speechless.
Mae blushes at this but manages to hide it well enough for him to miss it. She likes this sudden effect she has on him and before she can comprehend anything else, the tingling sensation returns to her stomach. She fights the urge to clutch her stomach, as though the feel would vanish then.
Butterflies, Her mind whispers, and this time she fails to hide her blush.
If Peter notices that, he doesn't say anything. Mae is relieved at that.
"So..." Mae says, ready to address one of the elephants in the room (she'd rather not talk about the butterflies at this moment). "Was it the Lizard, erm, Dr. Connors?" She quickly corrects herself, eyebrows raised as she looks at him with concern.
Peter hums in agreement and bobs his head. "I found his hideout in the tunnels below, it wasn't pleasant at all. Stinky as hell."
Despite the weight of the situation, Mae chuckles. She then scrunches her nose, "Is that why you smell like a gutter right now?"
Peter laughs, "Probably," and moves his face closer to hers. Mae freezes, the so-called butterflies in her stomach threatening to suck her insides. Her breath catches in her throat, her entire body tingling.
But he pulls back almost instantly, groaning in pain as his hand touches the gnashes on his chest. That's the first time Mae inspects it properly and finds three large cuts slashed across his chest, undoubtedly the doing of the Lizard.
"You should take the suit off." Mae says bluntly, immediately blushes when she catches her own words. Peter smirks, about to throw a flirty remark but stops when he sees Mae's stern expression warning him not to. He clears his throat, slowly pulling the hem of the top portion of his suit and Mae immediately whirls around, her face incredibly heated up.
Mae tries hard to ignore how built Peter actually is under his big sized clothes as she tends to the cuts on his chest. Those were pretty nasty wounds, courtesy of Dr. Connors. She would need to properly dress his wounds with bandages. Don't look at the abs, don't look at the abs. Her shoulders are tense, her hands almost shivering at the close proximity between them but she ignores it all and pretends to be unbothered. God, she hopes Peter can't see right through her.
Her stomach feels like a zoo to every existing butterfly species to exist. She doesn't know if that's a good thing or bad.
The following movements pass in silence. None of them say anything even though it feels like there are a lot of things left unsaid. After Mae has carefully dressed his wounds, Peter wears the familiar blue and red suit again. This time, Mae takes the privilege of watching, unable to contain how flushed she feels. It's almost like she's floating, except that her body has turned into a ball of heat, and even without looking at the mirror, she knows her face is apple red.
He walks towards her. Mae stands next to the window, ready to see him off. He pauses in front of her, looking down at her expectantly. Mae knows she should do... something, and her confused mind is having a lot of ideas, but she listens to none of them. When she does nothing, Peter sighs in defeat before muttering a 'thank you' and crouches on the windowsill, ready to swing home. He retrieved his mask from his backpack and it's like she received the news of his identity for the first time. He is Spider-Man...
Peter looks at her once more, passing a grin to her. With him crouching on the windowsill, they were almost in the same height range. Mae looks at him closely, at his unkempt her and she suddenly wants to touch it. Without warning, she reaches forward, combing his hair through her fingers. Peter half-jumps at the sudden movement, his mouth hanging ajar. Mae smiles at his reaction, satisfied by the pink tint that has taken over his cheeks.
Peter finally wears his mask and Mae is looking at someone else. She wordlessly watches in amazement as Spider-Man swings around the city effortlessly as though he is born to do this. Maybe he is.
When she walks back to her bed, she realises her entire body is now made up of butterflies.
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