Summary:Mayday Parker is brought into the family home. Again. Log Info:Storyteller: None |
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Yesterday had been… interesting. In the sense of the old Chinese curse. Mayday had found herself in another universe /again/, and this time with no real clue why she was there, or if she could even get home. At least some of the local heroes were friendly… Including a younger version of her father. Who never needs to know that fact. better to stick with the apprentice story.
Either way, they'd agreed to meet on top of the Daily Bugle building the next day, so he could tell her about the situation, and she could tell him the number to the new phone SIM she'd acquired. And so… waiting. "…Was this what it was like for everyone else back home when I was off doing stuff?"
A few minutes later, Mayday can hear a quiet THWIPP as Spider-Man approaches, lifting from the upward swing to fire at the security cameras on the north side of the building before landing there. It was bad enough that the "Spider-Harem" webcast hit 10K in likes in the first 24 hours.
Spidey is wearing the matching canvas backpack again. He waves to Mayday, and also waves her over to the north side of the roof. "You're just out of sight of one of the cameras," he calls to her.
"Believe it or not, I actually tried working here for a few weeks. Too bad I'm terrible at photography. Jameseon actually softened up a lot in his old age." Mayday waves back to Spidey, jogging over, her own backpack bouncing on her shoulder. Rummaging inside, she pulls out a folded piece of paper and hands it over. "There's my new cell number. Well, Spider-Girl's. Haven't gotten one for civilian me yet. …Mainly since she kind of doesn't exist, which makes things awkward. Smartphones are pretty expensive, apparently." She scratches at the back of her neck. "Just got a new SIM for now."
Spider-Man nods thoughtfully as he takes the number. "All right. One less problem. Did you get decent sleep last night? You said you had a few hidey holes at Midtown High."
"Well, I had a hard time getting to sleep, and I didn't sleep /well/, but I managed to get up at five AM and sneak out before the early morning athletes show up for practice before school." Spider-Girl sinks down, leaning against an air handling unit. "Also checked on that drop, so I know where the spare fluid is if I need it. Thankfully, I think I'm pretty good to go for now if I don't get into too many fights. …How're things for you? What'd you tell your aunt?" She tenses a bit. "Not that I ever met her or anything, but you used to talk about her. And you gave me her speech about not giving up once."
Spider-Man nods. "Yeah…I did talk to her. I told her I knew a girl who was unable to return to her family. I told her I didn't know you that well, but she…listen. How comfortable do you feel about each of us knowing what the other looks like?"
"I was gonna mention that yesterday. I already know you, so…" Looking around, Spider-Girl concentrates on her spider-sense. …Nothing. "Okay. Nobody's looking, I don't think." She tugs off her mask, revealing a kind of stressed looking girl with a mussed pixie cut. "Hi. I'm May. My friends call me Mayday. And yes, before you say it, it is a really weird coincidence." She extends her hand, grinning sheepishly.
Spider-Man nods, then extends his hand. "Mayday? Seems like a name you had to earn." He chuckles. "Okay…" He pulls off his mask.
The same face. Much younger, more open, none of the worry lines or the hard edges of her father. A young man who is still ignorant of what may await him. "Peter Parker, May. And it is a coinkydink, because my Aunt is also named May."
May shakes firmly, grin widening a little. "This is so weird. …But yeah. I did as much research in the LIbrary as I could without needing a card, and I guess I'm either going to need a new codename, or I'll have to meet the other one and work out a timeshare or something. Otherwise this is just going to get confusing."
Peter nods slowly. "Listen…Aunt May would like to know if you'd like a place to stay. She has a spare room that was going to be Uncle Ben's study…but that didn't work out, and the room is just lying empty."
"I… I'd be honored. I can probably do /something/ for cash until I can get an ID somehow. I don't want to be a burden on you guys." Mayday bites her lip, twisting at one of the straps on her backpack.
"…Do you think you could teach me photography or something? Assuming JJJ is still hiring…"
Peter smiles wryly. "I think May would hamstring me if she didn't spoil you for a week solid first." He pulls his mask back on. "Want to go meet her?"
"Fine by me." Mayday flashes a grin back, before pulling on her own mask and rising into a crouch. "Race you!" And then she's off, deftly dodging the cameras, before thwipping off a webline and swinging.
Spider-Man shook his head and ran after her.
He got just enough ahead of her to show her where to land beside the house to dodge the neighbors' CCTV cameras and use the trees for cover. After that, it was a simple matter to get into civvies (Peter turning away for May's sake).
As he studied the wood paneling, he said, "What last name are you going to use?"
May also very DEFINITELY looks away for her own sanity's sake, ending up in jeans, sneakers, and an Avengers T-shirt with a design just /slightly/ off from most on the shelves. "Pa- Patterson. Yeah, that sounds plausible enough. I'm in your lit class, maybe?" At least she didn't say Parker…
Peter nods. "Hey, we can say you're an emigrant from Latveria…they going through heck right now with El Jefe, Doc Doom. Plenty of reasons to escape from there…"
"I don't think I can do a very good accent though…. I mean, I've lived in New York my whole life. Kind of hard to lose this." May gestures towards her mouth in general. "You sure you want to do this, Pete? You've only just met me." And it gives me a lot more opportunities to slip up…
Peter looked at her for a few long seconds. "May…you trusted my counterpart to help you. That means I have to help you, purely because it's what I have to do. I just hope that wherever your mentor is, this would be JUST what he would do."
"Well, you've hit the jackpot." …Crap. Hopefully that was far enough from May's mom's particular turn of phrase that Pete won't notice… "Pretty sure right now he's back here worried sick about me. A few universes over. …But yeah. We just have to bluff. We can do this." She takes a deep breath, before straightening her shoulders.
Peter nods, then shoulders a different backpack (the Spidey one is webbed up next to his upstairs window) and stepped out into the lawn, walking up to the front door. He looked back to May, feeling a twinge of…something that he can't quite understand. Then it is gone, if it ever was there. "Ready?"
"As I'll ever be." Mayday follows him over to the door, putting on her best confident friendly smile. …Just mimic her Mom. But not /too/ much. The confidence is useful, though.
Peter nods, then opens the front door.
The first thing she smells is pure Aunt May. Irish Stew, steamed spinach, and the light, sweet smell of her lattice apple pie. She uses molasses and honey. That's the secret ingredient that caused her to win all those contests.
"Aunt May?"
"Oh, PETER, you're home! I put together a whole meal for…"
The old lady steps out of the kitchen and stops. "Oh, my…Peter, you didn't tell me you were bringing a guest?"
"Uhm…I texted you?"
"Dear boy, for things like this, you HAVE to call…" She walks towards Mayday, smiling. "Good evening, dear!"
The first breath of air through the door hits May straight in the childhood. Aunt May had died a few months before she was born, but her box of recipe cards had lived on. "Hello, Mrs. Parker. Thank you so much for all of this. She extends a hand, the other adjusting her backpack strap. "Funnily enough, my name's also May. May Patterson."
Aunt May's eyebrows lifted. She looked to Peter for a moment, then said, "You must be the girl Peter told me about." She nodded firmly. "WELL…as long as you are living in this house, you are to call me AUNT May. Do you hear me, young miss?"
"Crystal clear, Aunt May." May offers a sheepish grin again. "I'll do whatever I can to help out around the place too. I just… I really can't thank you enough." Her eyes flick towards Peter for a moment, checking in to make sure she was on the right track.
Peter nodded, but Aunt May shook her head. "We are welcoming a GUEST, not taking in a MAID. We will talk about necessary duties to be done, but that is AFTER we give you a decent meal, provide you with clean and new clothes, and get you a nice, warm bed to sleep in. Peter, do get the mattress from the garage?"
"Yes, Aunt May." Peter nodded to Mayday, then stepped out through the door to the garage.
"Now, we are having Irish Stew, my steamed spinach, and apple pie for dessert. Now, what would you like to drink, dear? We have juice, that soda Peter drinks, milk, or simply water."
"Water's fine for me, thanks. Pete's told me about your pie, and I can't wait." Mayday, unprompted, moves around to the third place setting. Even in the future, her dad still sits in the same chair, and all the family pictures have Aunt May in a particular one…
Aunt May nods approvingly. "Now, after we say grace and serve the food, you can tell me about yourself, and how you came to be in such a state. Peter has a good head on his shoulders, and he would not have told me that someone needed help without a good reason."
~Okay, cover story time. keep it together.~ Grace is said, food is spooned out, and all eyes are on Mayday. "It's… kind of a long story. My parents fled Latveria when I was a few months old, and I've only ever really known life here. They passed in a car accident about a year and a half ago. Drunk driver." She squirms a bit in her seat. "I'd been doing okay on my own until there was a fire in our apartment building, and it turns out my visa expired, so… I didn't really have anywhere else to go. Peter heard about it and said that he wouldn't be living up to you if he didn't offer me a place to stay while I get back on my feet." She gives the other teen a bit of a smile.
Aunt May reaches out to grasp Mayday's hand. Her hands are thin and slight, but they are warm. "And Peter was right, of course. She smiles softly, that careworn face May had seen in pictures not just enlivened, but warm and welcoming. The pictures simply didn't do her nature justice. "Stay as long as you need to, dear."
The door opened, and Peter was carrying in the mattress. Not easily—it was a queen-sized mattress, wrapped in plastic. "I'll get the boxspring and supports in the next trip," he said to them before half-carrying, half-dragging the mattress into a room near the back of the house.
Mayday squeezes back gently, blinking a few times. Nope. Not allowed to cry now. "Are you sure I can't help carrying the mattress and stuff at least? I kind of feel like a chump sitting here while he does all the work. And exercise does help build up an appetite."
Aunt May smiles and leans forward, "He could use the exercise, just between you and me. The physical effort will do him good." She sits up. "Now, after you get settled in, we can address your situation, See what can be done. I hope you have not lost access to finals at your school…"