Work Text:
Peter Parker, a fourteen-year-old boy, jolted awake with his heart racing and beads of sweat trickling down his back. Tears glistened in his eyes, and a dull ache lingered in his throat, prompting him to cough softly; each sound echoed in the stillness of his dimly lit room. Driven by instinct, he sat up, bracing himself with trembling arms as he took in his surroundings. The clock on the nightstand read 3:23 AM. Swinging his legs over the edge of the bed, he felt the chill of the floor beneath his bare feet, a sharp contrast to the warmth of his blankets. Gathering what little strength he had, he gradually rose to his feet, the worn wooden floor creaking softly under his weight.
As he shuffled toward his bedroom door, his toes occasionally snagged on a crumpled pile of clothes scattered across the floor, remnants of a rushed morning. He reached for the doorknob, his hand trembling slightly as he carefully turned it, mindful of the faint squeak that might disturb the tranquility of the household and rouse Aunt May from her slumber. With a gentle push, he nudged the door open, moving cautiously to avoid any sudden noise. The dim hallway stretched out ahead as he tiptoed toward the bathroom. Once there, he eased the door closed behind him, taking special care to ensure it didn’t slam shut, fully aware of the silence that enveloped the home at this early hour.
He flicked on the light switch, and as his eyes adjusted to the sudden brightness, he instinctively shielded them with his arm. Slowly lowering his arm, he looked at himself in the mirror. His usually olive skin appeared pale and sweaty. Reaching for the faucet knobs, he turned on the water, but when he tried to place his hands under the stream, he realized they were stuck to the knobs. Panic set in as he hurriedly tried to free his hands. Suddenly, he heard the sound of metal bending slowly and froze, realizing what was happening. Taking a moment to calm his breathing helped him slip his hands free from the faucet knobs. As he tried to figure out what was going on, he heard wood creaking.
“Peter, is everything alright?” Aunt May called out to him.
“Yeah, May, everything is good. I just need to use the bathroom. Sorry for waking you,” Peter replied.
“Alright, Peter. I’m going back to bed. See you in the morning,” May responded.
“Goodnight, May,” Peter replied, exhaling in relief once he heard the door to May’s bedroom close. He decided to take a shower to wash off the sweat that had soaked his body. After his shower, he felt much better.
He then went back to his room, changed into fresh pajamas, and sat on his bed, falling back until his head landed on the pillow. He closed his eyes for a moment and then opened them again, realizing that he hadn’t turned on his lights but could see perfectly well without them. As he rolled over, he noticed his glasses sitting on the nightstand without any trouble, as if he had undergone laser eye surgery for his poor vision.
Sighing, he yawned and realized that it was already 4:57 AM, which meant he only had about two and a half hours until he had to be at school for class. He then made sure his alarm was set before drifting off to sleep.