My roommate kindly kept it all to one side for me. [ pause. ] And kindly organised them in ascending order of bills, from due to overdue to final notice, before kindly pointing out that my phone had been cut off and she'd had to pay for my share of the rent and electricity, before even more kindly letting me know what I owe her, with interest.
[ he shoots jason a glance. try not having a permanent address, he'd said. try not having a permanent address when your aunt is may parker, jason. try not having a permanent address when your former boss turned kinda step-brother turned former boss turned oh god they're not friends, they're just like‐ jonah's jonah, so, whatever it is when jjj is in your life.
(hadn't he experienced enough trauma?) ]
I don't know how it works when you don't have someone as kind on your side. [ if he keeps saying kind enough, will it stop sounding like a word? ] I think she even managed to find a parking ticket from the week-long period of time where I entertained the thought of learning to drive, five years ago.
[ peter looks away from jason for a second, away from the bonfire and up at the sky. as angry as he is — because he is, and it's not about his wrist, it's not even about the escape attempt, not really — he's not sure he can really put a finger on why it annoys him all so much. is it just a case of he's been here too long? the dark's getting to him? god knows he knows he doesn't get enough sleep. he'd made an off-hand comment to one of the administrators at midtown high once — maude, lovely woman — that you rarely needed as much sleep as you thought you did, but ha.
ha.
doc ingram isn't wrong that they needed to have a semblance of routine here. waking up and going to bed isn't really enough, not for him. the ferry sinking had made him realise, uncomfortably although not for the first time, what being spider-man did for him. he's restless here — there's rarely a need for spider-man, just plain old peter parker, and there's not any of peter parker's life here, which just means—.
he hates it. he hates that some idiots decided to jump on a boat and sail it out of here, into where? they hadn't done any tests, didn't know what they were sailing into, apparently didn't even know how to sail a boat.
(which, like, he doesn't either. he doesn't even know how to drive, so—.)
is it because they'd come up with an idea and acted on it? is it because they'd risked all of their lives? (well, yeah, that was definitely some of it.)
peter makes a noise and runs a hand through his hair — he doesn't know what he'll do if he goes bald, that's a terrifying, horrible thought. ben had had a pretty full head of hair, but who knew about his dad? or his mom. or his mom's mom. or—. still, there'd been that time when he'd ended up in a version of his future, and it'd looked like there could've been hair under the mask. where any of the other hims he met bald? there's a question. ]
—D'you know what winds me up the most? [ he asks, gesturing at his bad wrist and glancing back at jason, before admitting, wryly, slightly bitterly: ] If it'd worked.
YELLS I HIT POST INSTEAD OF PREVIEW also i'm sorry
[ he shoots jason a glance. try not having a permanent address, he'd said. try not having a permanent address when your aunt is may parker, jason. try not having a permanent address when your former boss turned kinda step-brother turned former boss turned oh god they're not friends, they're just like‐ jonah's jonah, so, whatever it is when jjj is in your life.
(hadn't he experienced enough trauma?) ]
I don't know how it works when you don't have someone as kind on your side. [ if he keeps saying kind enough, will it stop sounding like a word? ] I think she even managed to find a parking ticket from the week-long period of time where I entertained the thought of learning to drive, five years ago.
[ peter looks away from jason for a second, away from the bonfire and up at the sky. as angry as he is — because he is, and it's not about his wrist, it's not even about the escape attempt, not really — he's not sure he can really put a finger on why it annoys him all so much. is it just a case of he's been here too long? the dark's getting to him? god knows he knows he doesn't get enough sleep. he'd made an off-hand comment to one of the administrators at midtown high once — maude, lovely woman — that you rarely needed as much sleep as you thought you did, but ha.
ha.
doc ingram isn't wrong that they needed to have a semblance of routine here. waking up and going to bed isn't really enough, not for him. the ferry sinking had made him realise, uncomfortably although not for the first time, what being spider-man did for him. he's restless here — there's rarely a need for spider-man, just plain old peter parker, and there's not any of peter parker's life here, which just means—.
he hates it. he hates that some idiots decided to jump on a boat and sail it out of here, into where? they hadn't done any tests, didn't know what they were sailing into, apparently didn't even know how to sail a boat.
(which, like, he doesn't either. he doesn't even know how to drive, so—.)
is it because they'd come up with an idea and acted on it? is it because they'd risked all of their lives? (well, yeah, that was definitely some of it.)
peter makes a noise and runs a hand through his hair — he doesn't know what he'll do if he goes bald, that's a terrifying, horrible thought. ben had had a pretty full head of hair, but who knew about his dad? or his mom. or his mom's mom. or—. still, there'd been that time when he'd ended up in a version of his future, and it'd looked like there could've been hair under the mask. where any of the other hims he met bald? there's a question. ]
—D'you know what winds me up the most? [ he asks, gesturing at his bad wrist and glancing back at jason, before admitting, wryly, slightly bitterly: ] If it'd worked.