Mild spoilers for Homecoming. Technically, supposed to over the next few days after the film ends. Canon relationships. Trigger warnings: blood, injury, mild whump, grief of losing a loved one, a possible suicide in later chapters (not an avenger).
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PRESENT - TUESDAY NIGHT
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It was hard to concentrate in the darkness I was submerged in, a dizzying fog pressing in on all sides. So this is what forced unconsciousness felt like? Enough blows to the head and this happens; all claustrophobic tendencies wrapped in a haunted sort of nap.
A unwanted stasis of a fight gone wrong.
Look, I get it. I'm out of it. I might be unconscious. I don't... I don't know that this makes any sense. I don't make sense.
I want to be on the good side and have something worth writing home about, should I live long enough to find a pen. When things suddenly go crazy and I remember how much I want to survive, and then I'm suddenly choking on my own vomit?
It's... confusing.
It's not fair.
I'm only half-aware of what's going on around me, even if only aware enough to make-believe it's a hundred years earlier in a war before intelligent alien life and corrupted super villains. Those were the days.
I was bleeding out at this point, I think, and wavering between dead and alive. I didn't see it coming and there wasn't any reason to.
Well, now I know. Sometimes the bad guys unite too. And sometimes I'm the common goal if I've pissed enough people off. And I suppose I did. Because I am Spider-Man... this may be the new default.
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YESTERDAY - MONDAY AFTERNOON
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I heard Aunt May curse loudly before I saw her. How is it that she's the only person who can sneak up on me? People shouldn't be able to; I'm Spider-Man. I have extra sensory talents. And she's...
like my mom. And mom's have a seventh, eighth, and ninth sense when it comes to their kids screwing up. And spider-sense or not, I knew that I screwed up this time. Big time.
"May," I turned around and held out my hands defensively, "This is... not what it looks like!"
"THEN WHAT IT IS?" she snarled. "What is it? And I swear to God - if you lie to me - if you are contemplating a lie right now - don't. I would rather hear nothing than a lie. Nothing." she held up a finger when I opened my mouth. "Don't, even, think about it."
I shut my mouth. The excuses just wouldn't fly. Costumes. Cosplay. Parties. Anything other than the truth.
"You," she pointed at me, her face so dark with confusion and wood-splitting anger that it was terrifying to behold. "You change into something normal. And be out here in five minutes."
I opened my mouth and shut it again. "A-aunt May?" I asked in a small voice. "It... it will take me less than... um... five minutes to change... um, if you want me sooner."
Aunt May turned away from me and stepped into the hallway. "No," she answered, her tone so dismal that it made me wish the earth would just swallow me whole.
"The five minutes are not for you. They're for me."
Then she slammed the door with such a hulk-like strength that a framed posted fell off the wall and fell behind the dresser with a crash.
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Hey guys,
this little story came to mind while I was 'sleep-writing'. This is a weird thing I do where I fall asleep while I am writing and wake up to find that not everything is gibberish, sometimes you come up with delightful little phrases like 'a haunted sort of nap' and you've blissfully written a monologue by someone who is clearly over-thinking being unconscious.
Please join me for some adventure in Queens.
Love,
Pip