[Peter was bruised, though nothing as bad as the night he'd fought the Lizard on the top of Oscorp tower. He wasn't in such a bad shape that it hurt him to move, even if it was a little bit uncomfortable. He had stuffed his costume into his backpack, as always, and ran his hand through his hair a few times, just to try to do something with it. He glanced at the clock, remembering he had to call Gwen, though he knew he was late in again tonight. At least he didn't forget to bring anything he needed to give to Aunt May. Storming into the house as noisy as always, Peter bumped the door shut behind him and dumped his backpack near the the stairs, tossing his jacket over the banister post.]
Hey, yeah, Aunt May, sorry I'm late, I got-- [Stopping in his tracks, Peter looked to his aunt and back to the woman in the room with her. He'd know her face anywhere, from the pictures he had of his childhood. He looked between both dark haired women, his eyes stinging with tears. He didn't know if he could believe it. She was dead, or she was
( ... )
[ She smiles at him, a bittersweet expression passing over her face. He looks just like his father. It's good that he takes more after Richard and not herself. She passes a glance at Aunt May, who has her hand on her hips and looking at her expectant look. ]
'Peter, honey, [ Aunt May steps forward. ] 'This is your mother.'
Hello, Peter. [ Helen finally stands to her feet, folding her hands together. She wants to watch out and hold him. To tell him that things will be alright. That he can be angry with her if he wants. He has every right to be. She lied to him - the entire world - about being dead. Even though as far as she is concerned, Mary Parker is dead. It's the price of living such a long life. ]
It's... a very long story. Although, I was blond. [ There's an attempt at humor in the situation, but, she knows Aunt May doesn't quite approve. She takes a small step towards him, but not enough to lessen the space between them. She wants Peter to say it's alright for her to be close. Even if he doesn't say it with words. ]
[Peter backs away, until the backs of his knees meet the arm of the couch and he slumps to sit down on it, burying his face in his hands. He tries to breathe, tries to calm himself before he accidentally breaks something from not being able to restrain his full strength, but he knows he's shaking, he knows the tears have made their way down his face, even from under his hands, and he doesn't quite know how to make any of this seem right in his head. She was dead, for so long, and he recalled only a woman that touched his face, someone from pictures that smiled back at him whenever he looked at the photographs, someone that was absent in the worst possible way, as with the father he was still so angry at. How could any of this ever be fixed to seem normal and right?
He drags his hands through his hair, looking over at both women, something of a mix of anger and anguish on his face. He can't quite cope with looking for too long, it hurts too much, but he can't bring himself not to stare.] You were-- you're dead. How can you just not be
( ... )
[ He backs away and she retreats in the small step she took. Her blood runs cold as and everything starts to feel heavy. She had wanted a better reunion, but, she knows this is the one that she deserves. How could he be happy to see her after all these years? If anything, she's angry at herself for thinking that he would be happy to see her at all. Although they would never believe her, she does understand how it feels. Her own mother was gone from her world at a very young age... except she never came back. Her head drops slightly, biting on her lip and looking at the floor. ]
'We thought she was dead, Peter.' [ His Aunt moves closer to the scene, ready to act. Ready to remove the woman from her house if she has to. ] 'They told us she died with your father...'
[ Blue eyes raise again to meet Peter's eyes. There's an unsaid guilt in her eyes; a pain that goes so very deep it's hard to see the end of it. Her hands curl around one another as she tries to keep from reaching out to comfort him. Why would he want to be comforted by her
( ... )
Comments 26
Hey, yeah, Aunt May, sorry I'm late, I got-- [Stopping in his tracks, Peter looked to his aunt and back to the woman in the room with her. He'd know her face anywhere, from the pictures he had of his childhood. He looked between both dark haired women, his eyes stinging with tears. He didn't know if he could believe it. She was dead, or she was ( ... )
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'Peter, honey, [ Aunt May steps forward. ] 'This is your mother.'
Hello, Peter. [ Helen finally stands to her feet, folding her hands together. She wants to watch out and hold him. To tell him that things will be alright. That he can be angry with her if he wants. He has every right to be. She lied to him - the entire world - about being dead. Even though as far as she is concerned, Mary Parker is dead. It's the price of living such a long life. ]
It's... a very long story. Although, I was blond. [ There's an attempt at humor in the situation, but, she knows Aunt May doesn't quite approve. She takes a small step towards him, but not enough to lessen the space between them. She wants Peter to say it's alright for her to be close. Even if he doesn't say it with words. ]
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He drags his hands through his hair, looking over at both women, something of a mix of anger and anguish on his face. He can't quite cope with looking for too long, it hurts too much, but he can't bring himself not to stare.] You were-- you're dead. How can you just not be ( ... )
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'We thought she was dead, Peter.' [ His Aunt moves closer to the scene, ready to act. Ready to remove the woman from her house if she has to. ] 'They told us she died with your father...'
[ Blue eyes raise again to meet Peter's eyes. There's an unsaid guilt in her eyes; a pain that goes so very deep it's hard to see the end of it. Her hands curl around one another as she tries to keep from reaching out to comfort him. Why would he want to be comforted by her ( ... )
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