“No, no I don’t have super healing powers but sometimes I really wish I did. I’m just… really hard to hurt for the most part, I mean, today aside,” Peter was rambling and he knew it, but it was exciting to be able to talk to people about his secret and know that it wasn’t going to come back to haunt Aunt May, or himself. It was exciting to know that there were other people who had also been punched in the gut by the timeline and now were living this weird sort of double life where some people they knew understood what was going on and others didn’t. And it was exciting to know that slowly, bit by bit, he was expanding his superhero social circle. This guy didn’t look like a hero, but then what really did a hero look like? He knew outside of his suit he didn’t look like much of a hero either.
He wet his lower lip, grimacing again at the taste of blood and knowing that he’d have to explain this one to Aunt May in glorious technicolour detail because that was how his life was ever since she discovered him changing out of the suit. They’d instigated a rule about knocking for a reason, but it was her house, so he guessed it had to be her rules. He wondered how different things would have been if he’d taken Mr Stark up on his offer to live upstate, he would have had his own room and access to all the training stuff and he would have been an Avenger.
Peter Parker, Avenger.
He rubbed the back of his neck and nodded. “I- uh- I should probably change outta this, yeah,” he mumbled. “Or at least stick something on over the top of it so I can get home. You don’t- I mean you don’t need to walk me ‘cause I’m- I’m just going to Queens, it’s not too far.” He did get the feeling though, that he might not have a choice about being walked home. “I’ll just-” He gestured with his hand, slipping past Frank and ducking inside the open door, snagging the bag with his fingers.
Once inside, he just tugged his clothes on over his suit and re-emerged, his bag forgotten inside.