Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

In a small, modest apartment in Queens, New York, a woman sat on the closed toilet lid, making the most of her minimalistic space. The apartment was filled with secondhand furniture and boxes, yet it contained all the essentials she needed at the moment as she waited…

Mary Fitzpatrick had experienced a great deal in her 23 years. Running away from home at just 10, she confronted formidable challenges that shaped her early life. Despite feeling neglected by both her mortal guardian and divine parent for many years, until her mother eventually claimed her, deciding ‘Oh yeah you are my kid  I just didn’t care about you until now!’ Despite Mary trying her hardest to be the perfect child her mother expected her to be she had to learn to navigate these complex emotions that she didn’t understand at times, after all, she wasn’t made to be human but rather to be her mother’s greatest creation. The first child of Athena, created without a father needed, a pure copy and paste of your will, so while her other half-siblings got to have a father to raise them she was stuck in the foster system going from home to home until she came to camp at 10. And even when she got claimed it didn’t matter because she was the ‘favored’ creation of Athena, which wasn’t saying much other than having the most expectations to be close enough like her, but that didn’t stop some of her own siblings from hating her. 

At least she had little Annie whom she loved like her own and May an unclaimed child who never let it bother her and was a beam of sunshine through and through until she had to leave. Then she met him who made her feel something rather than nothing like she wasn’t just a clone of the woman who was supposed to love and care for her, she loved him. At least she did before the furries came back and she came to a profound realization: to protect the people she loved, she needed to make the difficult choice to distance herself for their safety. So she left him thinking she would leave him all behind him now she’s not so sure…

The sound of the owl baking timer snapped her out of her thoughts (it was the only thing she could find at the moment since she hadn’t unpacked her stuff yet). She took a deep breath as she prepared herself for the result. Nothing she has faced could compare to the fear she felt at the moment when looking at the pregnancy test results.

Her hands trembled uncontrollably, fingers quaking as she stared at the test before her. The two lines glared back, stark and undeniable, like cruel jesters mocking her deepest fears. Each line painted a vivid picture of uncertainty, igniting a whirlwind of emotions within her, as a wave of disbelief crashed over her.

“Fuck……this can’t be real…” Mary sank against the door of the bathroom. She didn’t cry yet not when her mind started to race—flashing of monsters, gods, lies, death,…him. She couldn’t believe it until she took two more tests that showed the same results as the first, positive.

After a bit of crying and eating, and crying and eating Mary curled up on the couch, knees pulled to her chest. A notepad sits on the table, filled with lists of what she could do:

 • Clinic hours
 • Adoption resources
 • Safehouse options
 • Mom? (Definitely Not!!!)

As she looked at the words she had written, they began to blur through her tears. “Have I ever cried this much before? Is this a normal feeling? Is this what normal people feel?” she wondered. With a deep sigh, she pulled her knees to her chest on the couch, placing her notepad on a stack of boxes nearby. Then, wrapping herself in a warm blanket, she allowed herself to drift off to sleep, finding solace in the quiet of her apartment.

She woke up a few hours later feeling more exhausted than she thought possible but that happens when you’ve been drinking energy drinks instead of water for a few weeks. She walked towards her kitchen deciding to pour a glass of water for once before she felt something glaring at her. She turned to see that she had left the bathroom light off so she moseyed her way over to turn it off when she got a glimpse of her appearance.

Her hair was a mess, she had bags under her eyes from a dysfunctional sleeping schedule, and she could see how thin she’d gotten. But what caught her eye was her shirt lifting from the little swell of her stomach. She lifted her shirt and placed a trembling hand over her stomach—while still technically flat to the eye, that didn’t stop the suddenly heavy feeling she felt when her hand touched her stomach something alive came into her eyes, something fierce…ancient even. 

She thinks of all the times she was told she didn’t belong. That she was unnatural, a weapon, a daughter of war and wisdom whose only existence was to be a copy of her mother. In that moment she knew that she was not going to let this baby feel the same way, she whispered, quietly to the baby inside her, “You’re not a mistake.” Her voice cracks more tears fall from her eyes as she hugs herself “You’re mine.”

She gently wipes away her tears and takes a deep breath. Though her heart feels heavy and uncertainty lingers, she finds a sense of resolve within herself. With a tender action, she crosses out the list, crumpling it up as if to release the weight it holds. As she tosses it aside, she leans closer to the mirror, her hand resting softly on her stomach, and whispers a quiet reassurance to herself. “I don’t know how, but I’ll protect you. Even if I have to do it alone.”

__________________________________

After a few weeks, Mary was finally able to schedule an appointment with an obstetrician to check on how her baby was doing and to plan for what to do to prepare. She sat on the obstetrician’s examination table, her grey eyes fixed on the ultrasound screen. Her doctor moves the wand across her stomach and pauses.

First came the sound of one heartbeat then two.

“Congratulations,” the doctor says gently. “You’re having twins.”

Mary stiffens. “I’m sorry—what?”

The doctor beams, a gentle smile playing on her lips as she nods in encouragement. On the monitor beside her, two distinct heartbeats flutter rhythmically, each pulse a testament to life. The room is flooded with harsh, sterile light, making everything appear unnaturally vivid and almost overwhelming. Mary stands motionless, her heart racing as she takes in the extraordinary sight. Two tiny, vital lives—her mind can barely grasp the reality of it. Two heartbeats, two babies.

Later when Mary got home to her apartment she began planning, papers spread across the floor consisting of job applications, bus schedules, childcare pamphlets, and her own carefully drawn chart divided into three sections:
• Work
• Rest
• Time with Them

She’s gone over the calculations three times now. Her eyes show the strain of long hours, and ink stains mark her hands. Deep down, she can hear her instincts urging her: You don’t have to do this alone. Yet she knows she must with her growing stomach in mind, remain committed to the promise she made to them.

‘Twins.
Two lives. Two heartbeats. Two chances to do this right.
I can’t give them a mansion. I can’t give them peace from monsters. But I can give them, me. And maybe that’s enough.
Maybe just enough for me to not end up like her.’ 

Just as she made the promise she kissed her two fingers and gently placed them on the sonogram she had taped up on the fridge that was titled, ‘Babies First Photo’.

Mary worked to save for her twins throughout pregnancy every cent counted. Working at a diner near her apartment feels like Tiana with her messy hair tied up, and apron stained yet just as determined to earn her own money rather than to dare touch the account her mother made for her (just yet). Her interviewing at a local library hoping the flexible hours will work until the twins come. She also found a great deal for two cribs that just needed a bit of love for it to feel like home. 

She now sat in her room folding tiny clothing for them while also crying at just how small the clothes were then crying at the small blankets, socks, etc. She held her stomach telling them “You two are going to be okay. I’ve got you.” She looked up at the weekly schedule she had made on the wall—color-coded by sleep, feeding, job shifts, and time for just holding them by how often other babies did from her research.

She gently tapes another copy of the schedule above her kitchen counter. It’s a bit chaotic and imperfect, filled with notes of every possible contingency. But it’s a reflection of her life, and she embraces it. Placing both hands on her stomach once more, she whispers softly, “I don’t care what my mother wants anymore. I’m your mother. So I’m going to make sure you get the love I never had.” She began humming a lullaby to them since they were now able to hear her voice.

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On August 10, 2001, she welcomed two bright, healthy twins into the world, their first cries piercing the tranquil air of the dimly lit room. Soft shadows danced along the walls, creating a serene cocoon that seemed to wrap around them, while outside, the world remained hushed and distant as if holding its breath in awe of the new life that had just begun. Mary lay propped up in the hospital bed, her hair clinging to her forehead, dark circles under her eyes—but she’d never felt more alive.

In her arms, her two tiny bundles were wrapped in red knit blankets that came in the mail from her best friend. Her little boy is fussy, his little face scrunched like the world already annoys him. He lets out an indignant squeak. Mary could only chuckle through a tired breath. “Already got opinions about this world, huh?” She leans down, gently kissing his forehead.

In her other arm, her baby girl is peacefully asleep, one little hand curled beneath her chin like a philosopher in meditation as she presses herself closer to her almost like she wants to go back inside of Mary. She was most likely dreaming already, or possibly plotting the destruction of mankind either one could work for her. Nevertheless, Mary smiled at her too kissing her soft head that already had a full head of hair. Just born yet they both had a small curl that seemed to form into the shape of a question mark.

“You two were just born yet you both are already different from how I was,” she whispers to them both. “And that makes you two all the more perfect.”

Her eyes glisten as she shifts, holding them both closer, pressing them to her chest their curls tickling against her. The weight of them—real, warm, fragile, beautiful—grounds her. “I might be a disappointment to my mother,” she says softly, not bitterly, just truthfully, “but you two… you’re my greatest joys.”

She brushes her fingers across Peter’s tuft of dark hair his little curl getting tangled in her finger. He makes a little noise and tries to latch onto her gown. “You’re firecrackers, both of you. I see it already.” She laughed quietly to herself before an exhausted sigh left her, “I have no idea how I’m going to do this. But by the Styx if I’m not going to try for you two.” Mary kissed both their heads as she snuggled up to them.

As her little girl shifts slightly, pressing into her mother’s chest, Mary promises them, “No monsters are ever going to touch you. Not while I’m breathing.” Mary was able to get a photo of the three of them to put in her locket later as she leaned back, with both her children in her arms. She now stared at the ceiling with a kind of quiet, sacred peace as she thought about what the fates might have in store for them. She then looked towards them then began to sing to them.

“Hush little ones and close your eyes 
Dream of two hearts side by side 
The moon and stars will be your guide tonight 
Hush little one and say good night
Two stars shine as one tonight 
So make a wish, close your eyes 
And may your wish come true tonight Hush little ones good night.” 

Just as it fell into night Mary sat on the edge of her bed, one hand gently rocking her little boy, the other resting on her sleeping baby girl, bundled beside her she began to ponder. A legal pad sits in her lap, half filled with scribbled names.

She’s already written: Peter John

That one came easily. For someone solid, someone who would protect and love fiercely. Someone who reminded her of the best parts of the world, even when the world didn’t deserve it.

She then looked at her little boy as she whispered aloud, as if Peter could understand her, “You’re going to grow into that name. I know it.”

But for baby girl… the line below is blank. She stares at it. Frustrated. Thoughtful. “Teresa what?” she murmurs.

She’d tried:
 • Teresa Grace (too light, too fragile)
 • Teresa Marie (too common)
 • Teresa Minerva (too many expectations and felt too cruel)

She frowns. “You’re not a warrior just because someone expects you to be.”

She glances at Teresa again—calm, steady, wise. Not as loud as Peter. But already strong in a different way. The kind of strong that watches and waits. That doesn’t demand attention to hold power a little mini her, though she wouldn’t try to force her daughter to be her.

Peter’s middle name came easily. John— after his grandfather. A good man from the stories she’s heard about him. He should’ve been able to meet his grandson if he were still alive….but what for Teresa…  Mary sighed as she lay back down on the bed groaning, “I don’t have anyone to name you after. You deserve a name that comes from love, not loss.” Teresa only made little cooing noises as if to respond to her mother.

“You’re right Tess, I shouldn’t give up.” She flips to a fresh page and starts writing down names from the top of her head.

 • Teresa Briar
 • Teresa Hope
 • Teresa Elara
 • Teresa Lily (too soft?)
 • Teresa Elizabeth (maybe…)
 • Teresa Maeve

Her fingers absentmindedly trace a curl of Teresa’s soft dark hair. Just as she wrote the last name down she remembers someone. Not a god nor a warrior. But a certain someone who saw through her from the beginning. A girl who became her first real friend, who gave her a book of poetry and told her not to be afraid of being soft, and whose warmth was exactly what she wanted her children to experience in life. Maybelle ‘May’ Parker (Riley) 

Something about it clicks. Strong, sharp, fit for a queen but it didn’t feel cold rather warm just as Mary always made people around her feel.

She whispers it aloud just to see how it feels to say, “Teresa Maeve Fitzpatrick” Peter stirs a little in his sleep. Teresa doesn’t move at all—but her fist relaxes. Mary watches her daughter and smiles softly.

“Your brother got his name from a man who helped shape the best person I ever knew. But you, Teresa Maeve? You’ll get your name from your aunt. She’s a remarkable woman, who wasn’t afraid to walk through fire to save lives including mine. And I mean that both figuratively and literally there was no stopping that woman from saving lives.”

She writes it out on the birth certificate form she’s been avoiding since they were born: 

Peter John Fitzpatrick
Teresa Maeve Fitzpatrick

With a steady hand, Mary Parker scrawls her name on the document, the pen gliding across the paper like a bird taking flight. At that moment, a weight she didn’t fully realize she was carrying begins to lift, and she feels the first, tentative breath of relief seep into her lungs. Just a little, but it’s enough to awaken a flutter of hope within her. She closed her eyes imagining what life with them might be like…

“…Mom…mom…MOM!!!!”

Mary blinked back to reality folding laundry. A faded T-shirt with a red dinosaur on the front. A purple hoodie with tiny wings stitched on the back. She stops, staring at the size tag: M…they were already a kids' medium. She blinks.

“When did they get so big?”

Behind her, the twins are laughing—Peter who was calling her earlier was bouncing on the couch despite being told not to but he was determined to do a backflip, Teresa calmly building a judge bench out of books looking like she’s preparing for court with her dolls once more. Should she be worried that her daughter might be watching too much Judge June…maybe but she was having a bit of reminiscence crisis so she’ll have to worry about that later.

Mary turns to look at them, a soft, stunned expression creeping into her usually unreadable face. “Five,” she murmurs aloud. Her babies were five years old already…great she could already feel herself crying already and it’s barely noon.

She walks to a drawer to find a box she made and opens it. At the bottom, tucked away were some of her most prized possessions a hospital wristband, a wrinkled sonogram, two pacifiers, and the red knit blanket. She gently touches them, then closes the drawer as the memories of their lives fill her mind.

The one time after a few months with the twins and Mary was running through a subway tunnel with both babies strapped to her chest in a wrap, glancing over her shoulder as something inhuman screeches in the dark.

Working two jobs while applying to become an archeologist, library assistant by day, diner waitress by night as she wrote essay after essay of applications. While catching glimpses of the twins sleeping behind the counter, cradled in blankets after a long day of helping her.

Moving again—a hastily-packed bag, Teresa holding a stuffed owl, Peter crying about leaving his toy elephant behind which she was able to grab just in time before a furry tore it to shreds.

Fending off a monster with a special baseball bat that was gifted to her by an old friend, glaring menacingly through her long curly brown hair as the golden dust of the monster tried to escape her shoes. “You’re never going to touch my kids.”

Mary didn’t realize she had made her way to their small living room until she sank onto the couch, staring blankly at the red blanket but she soon came back to the present as the kids raced past her. Peter jumped onto her lap like a missile.

“Mom! Mom! Look—I drew you fighting a dragon!” He held up a picture of her with her hair whirled around and a sword. However, she would have appreciated it if the dragon didn’t have its heart coming out of its mouth. She later learned that Teresa added that which explained why it was so detailed despite it being drawn by a five-year-old with crayons.

Mary looks at the picture. Then at her son then at Teresa, who looks up from her mid-argument with her toys and tilts her head like she knew that her mother was sad about something. “You okay, Mama?”

Mary smiled gently at her trying her best to compose herself and not to worry her kids. She nodded, voice soft as she spoke, “I just… forgot how fast time moves when you’re running all the time.” She then launched herself into hugging them both tightly, one arm around each. “I blinked… and suddenly I went from having babies to having five-year-olds.”

Peter squishes into the hug while Teresa rests her head against her mother’s shoulder. Peter just giggled at his mother thinking that it’s silly that she’s sad over them becoming bigger. “Don’t be sad mama, just blink anymore.” Mary chuckles, tears brimming but not falling as Peter gently pats her face which was his way to comfort her. She held out a pinky as she told him “How about I promise to try not to be sad over you two getting so big?” Peter enthusiastically said “Deal!” Shaking his small pinky with hers before hugging her again while Teresa didn’t let go until her mother had to make lunch but she was very reluctant to do so until she remembered she still had a robbery trial that was still ongoing.

Life was good their life was happy…but that wasn’t enough for Mary…She wanted to make sure her children would never have to worry about monsters again so she decided to put aside her pride and make a deal with the gods more specifically her mother.

__________________________________

Mary stood beneath the silvery glow of the moon, her silhouette stark against the darkened landscape. A gleaming dagger dangled at her hip, its polished blade catching the light as a gentle breeze tousled her unkempt hair, now wild and unruly, dancing about her shoulders. She felt the weight of exhaustion pressing down on her; sleep had eluded her for countless nights, her eyelids heavy with fatigue. 

She looked down at the fire as it glowed brightly as she burned the numerous offerings she had to talk to her mother. At last, a palpable shift in the atmosphere occurred—the air thickened, charged with an unmistakable tension. The shadows around her paused, holding their breath as if in anticipation of the unfolding magic as she saw her, goddess of wisdom, warfare, handicraft, practical reasoning, weaving, strategy, heroism, civilization, law, knowledge, architecture, planning…and well you should know by now who she’s talking about her mother, Athena whose tall, brilliant-eyed figure glowed with adiating power but the disappointment on her face was unmeasurable. “Daughter,” the goddess intones. “You summon me at last. I had thought you abandoned your bloodline entirely.”

Mary’s hands tremble at her sides—but for once it was not from fear. “I didn’t abandon it,” she says. “I chose my children over your…ideals.” Mary was careful when choosing her words not wanting her mother to send more monsters after them.

Athena’s expression sharpened as she lowered herself to her daughter’s eye level. “You chose mortality over legacy. You let your gifts rot while you played house with your…children.”

Mary doesn’t flinch from the insult but the moment she heard the pause on her children she was quick to defend them like always. “Don’t talk about my children like they were a mistake. They are more than your glory ever offered me.” There was a tense pause before Mary steeled herself back into why she contacted her mother. “I’ll come back. I’ll serve your little cause, find the Athena Parthenos. I’ll reclaim what you’ve lost.”

“But in exchange…” She steps forward, voice trembling, “You keep monsters away from Peter and Teresa. You protect them. No quests, no blood debts, no calling.…They’ll get a chance to live as mortals. You leave them alone.” The air crackles, and for a moment, it feels like lightning will strike her down.

Then Athena speaks, “Very well. If you can recover the Parthenos… they shall be cloaked from the scent of divine blood. The monsters will not seek them. But if you fail…” Her eyes narrow, sharp as spear-tips. “…I will not intervene.”

Mary bows her head, but her voice is strong, “You should not fret mother, I don’t plan to fail.” Her gaze is as sharp as her mother’s with the same grey eyes looking at each other before her mother disappears leaving Mary with her thoughts.

Mary knew that her kids couldn’t come with her they needed a stable home with someone not so…broken. So as soon as she got an Iris message agreeing to take care of them she immediately packed everything they owned, buckled Peter and Teresa in her car, and made their way to a small apartment in Queens.

 Mary soon got the twins settled in what she hoped would be their temporary home, ‘At least until I come back.’ Is what she told herself though she didn’t quite believe herself deep inside. Her thoughts were interrupted by Peter’s soft snores being heard even with his face smashed against his pillow while Teresa slept curled like a cat. The twins always insisted on sleeping together and she didn’t have a reason to say no. 

Nonetheless, she could help the soft chuckle that left her mouth when she saw Peter spread across the bed as Teresa tried to escape from him but the two always ended up protectively holding onto each other until they woke up. Mary couldn’t help but lean against the doorframe, silent tears falling as she looked at her babies who were now barely about to go to school. Not from sadness—but from relief. “You’ll be safe now,” she whispers. “No matter what happens to me, I’m prepared to do whatever it takes.”

For the first time in years, she lets herself hope. The house is warm, safe, and she could smell the essence candles being lit that always reminded her of cinnamon—May’s doing, no doubt.

Mary’s duffel bag sits by the door, zipped and ready. The twins’ small suitcases are tucked beside it. She’s already unpacked their clothes into dresser drawers, pretending it’s just a visit. The guest bed is small, but she had given May and Ben more than enough money for them to use for whatever the twins needed, and she gave them full access to her bank accounts.

She took a deep breath as she lay down on the mattress next to the bed as she tried to fall asleep only to wake up to Peter and Teresa curling up on either side of her, half-asleep from the long car ride. One of Peter’s hands is clutching her hoodie while Teresa has her fingers tangled in her mother’s hair. Mary couldn’t sleep for the rest of the night staring at the ceiling until morning.

She could hear Ben and May talking in the kitchen—low voices, respectful of her quiet. May had offered to take the twins off her hands right away, to let Mary rest. But Mary had shaken her head. “I just need one more night with them…one more night with my babies in my arms before…before I have to leave…”

May stood in the doorway, watching Mary fold tiny socks with practiced ease. She soon walked up to her best friend sitting next to her as she asked, “Are you sure about this?” Her voice was gentle, but serious. 

Mary didn’t look at her but nodded. “I made a deal. I have to follow through.”

May tried to convince her friend not to do this, she didn’t want to lose her best friend again, “You could bring them to Camp Half-Blood. They’d be trained, protected—”

Mary looked up, face calm but firm. “They deserve a normal life, May. Not whatever my mother has planned for them.”

There was silence for a moment before Mary spoke again, “They deserve someone who can give them a normal life. May, you are the most wonderful person I’ve ever known, they deserve you as a…an aunt. I know with you they’ll get to have the life they deserve—”  Mary didn’t get a chance to finish her sentence as May wrapped her arms around her soul sister. “They’ll have one. I swear it.”

The two women froze their emotional moment from Teresa stirring until she murmurs something about food in her sleep. Mary wiped away her tears as she brushed a strand of hair from her daughter’s face.

Peter’s lashes flutter. He mutters, half-dreaming, “Mama, you smell like monster guts.”

Mary laughs softly, tears catching in her throat. “Yeah, well. That’s motherhood for you.” She holds them both closer, burying her face between them. Breathes in the scent of childhood—apples and crayon wax and shampoo.

‘I might not be here when you wake up,’ she thinks. ‘But you’ll be safe and that’s what matters.’

The sun is barely up. The world outside is still wrapped in that blue-grey hush that only exists right before dawn. Mary stands in the hallway, dressed in practical clothes—her classic trench coat, boots, her bag slung over one shoulder.

In her hands were two boxes. Carefully labeled in her neat handwriting. “Peter” and “Teresa.”

She hands them to May, her voice low. “If I don’t come back… give them these. When you think they’re ready.”

May looks down at the boxes—beautiful, plain, heavy with unspoken love. She opens her mouth, but Mary’s already shaking her head. “Not now. Just… keep them safe.” May hugs her, tight, fierce. There are no promises exchanged—they both know the gods don’t deal in fair trades. But there’s trust.

Mary kneels between the twins’ bed. Peter is half-asleep, rubbing his eyes with a grumpy noise. Teresa blinks up at her with those wide, serious, blue eyes, always looking like she knows something even if it was unspoken.

Mary pulls them into her arms, crushing them gently against her chest. One hand threads through Peter’s curls, the other smoothing Teresa’s soft waves. “You two,” she whispers, “are the best thing I’ve ever done.” She kisses their foreheads, breathing them in. Her voice hums softly—an old lullaby from her childhood that she made up when stargazing, the same one she used to hum when they were colicky newborns.

“Hush little ones and close your eyes
Dream of two hearts side by side
The moon and stars will be your guide tonight
Hush little one and say good night
Two stars shine as one tonight 
So make a wish, close your eyes
And may your wish come true tonight
Hush little ones good night.”

They don’t understand why she’s crying, but they hold her tightly anyway. Then, from around her neck, she removes her compass locket. The worn, silver locket with the back engraved into an owl.

She presses it into both of the twins' small hands, folding her fingers around it. “Keep this safe for me, okay? It always points home.” She opened it up to reveal a photo of Mary holding the twins as babies. Her smile was exhausted but glowing.

Teresa's eyes were starry as she held the locket close to her since Peter didn’t hold it as tightly choosing to look at their mama with a frown. “Are you going somewhere, Mama?”

Mary smiles, eyes shining, “Just for a little while.” She pulls back, looking at them one last time—committing every detail to memory. “Be good for Aunt May. Help each other. And remember…” 

She rests a hand over their hearts. “I love you. More than anything. Always.” Mary turns once more before stepping outside. May is waiting.

They lock eyes.

No words needed.

Then Mary disappears into the breaking dawn. The door shut behind her with the softest, heaviest click. 

__________________________________

Mary never imagined that would be the last time she held them.

She thought there’d be more—another sunrise, another storytime, another chance to run her fingers through Peter’s curls or laugh as Teresa corrected the puzzle she tried to solve.

Even when the battle turned, even when the earth cracked open beneath her and the divine world demanded more than she’d bargained for—she still begged.

On her knees before the goddess, her voice hoarse with desperation, “Please—just one moment. One last look. Let me see them again.”

But the goddess’s face was unmoved by her own daughter’s begging. “You made your choice, daughter. And the price was clear.”

Mary was many things—clever, defiant, brave—but in that moment, she was just a mother.

Broken.

In the mortal world, Peter and Teresa never knew the full story. They waited, at first before they began to cry. Then the waiting turned into wondering, and the wondering into silence.

But May never stopped believing.

She kept the boxes safe. She taught the twins how to care, how to protect each other, how to love without letting it make them feel weak.

And every year on the anniversary of Mary’s disappearance, she lit a candle. Because even if the gods erased her, May remembered.

The air was thick with silk and rot.

Mary slumps against the cold stone wall, her side torn, her limbs trembling. Her sword lies just out of reach, but it wouldn’t matter. Not anymore.

She’s bleeding, but it’s the kind of pain that feels distant now—like her body already knows this is it.

Webs cling to her skin. Her breaths are shallow as her vision dims, she thinks of Peter’s laugh, Teresa’s gentle hands, May’s stubborn loyalty, and the boxes that she’ll never get a chance to give to them herself.

Tears trail down her cheeks as she looks up even if she saw nothing. “I’m sorry,” she whispers, “I tried.” Her fingers twitch—barely able to move—but she presses them to her lips and then toward the sky. “For you,” she says, “I would’ve moved the heavens.”

And then, through the cold and the dark and the creeping shadow, she begins to hum,

“Hush little ones and close your eyes
Dream of two hearts side by side
The moon and stars will be your guide tonight
Hush little one and say good night—

She started to choke on her own blood her voice, weak, wavering—but the lullaby floats into the hollow chamber, echoing like a prayer.

“Two stars shine as one tonight
So make a wish, close your eyes
And may your wish come true tonight
Hush little ones… good night.”

A tear rolls down her cheek, catching the last glint of torchlight.

And then—

Silence.

Mary Fitzpatrick—daughter of Athena, mother of two, the girl who disappeared—dies alone, but not forgotten.

Because even though she was a star that died from exhausting her fuel far away, on the other side of the world, two stars that were a part of her still shine bright side by side.

Chapter Text

Now Maybelle ‘May’ Parker has been through a lot in her 48 years of living if she were to say so herself.

I mean her best friend left her twins in her and Ben’s care nearly 12 years ago, she had to find out that her husband was killed in front of the twins so she had to help them cope with their first death. She recently found out that not only was her nephew Spider-Man but her niece was apparently a CIA agent who had already graduated from high school (she is going to hold a grudge for not seeing the graduation until she dies or gets a redo cause WHAT DO YOU MEAN HER LITTLE GIRL GRADUATED!!!!!!!!) She had an existential crisis debating with herself if she’s truly ready to move on from Ben (though things with Happy didn’t really work out in the end they still cared about the twins), then the world finding out her nephew is Spider-Man, the world hating him because he ‘killed’ someone (hypocrites if you ask her since they like that Bucky guy who ran for congress), then she kept trying to help him get into college but them not accepting, finding out that villains from different dimensions are after her nephew, and oh yeah, her almost dying twice! 

Despite all of this May Parker never once got angry at Peter and Teresa (or rather she never blamed him) for all the things that happened. It’s not their fault that the world is an unfair place.

So when she found out what that wizard man was planning to do with her nephew, did she get mad at them? No, but at the wizard absolutely

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May Parker could barely believe what she just heard, what that stupid, stupid wizard man just told them. She was baffled at the thought itself. No way was she going to let some wizard supreme erase her memories of her nephew. May had already lost too many people before. She had lost Ben, Mary, fellow campers, and so much more. She had lost her home. She had come too close to losing both Peter and Teresa more times than she could count now that she knew their identities.

Now, here she was, standing in the middle of some mystical wizard’s lair, after Teresa helped her break in to convince Peter not to go along with this plan, and she felt like she had been hit by a truck, only to hear the most insane explanation come out of her nephew’s mouth.

“Please explain all that to me again, ‘cause I don’t think I heard you right the first time.” May wasn’t yelling at him, no it was much worse she was calm yet her voice sounded terrifying, the kind of voice where kids knew that they messed up badly and only had one chance to make it right only for it to blow up in their face.

Peter could not look at her, his shoulders were hunched, hands were clenched into fists at his sides. He looked… so tired. Like the weight of the world was breaking him, something that May tried her hardest for him not to go through like his mother, but in the end, she failed both Mary and the twins by not seeing what was right in front of her. Now all May could see was Mary reflecting off of Peter, how they looked identical in how exhausted they looked…

“I have to do this, May,” he whispered quietly still not meeting her eyes but she could hear the desperation in his voice. “It’s the only way.”

May turned to Doctor Strange, eyes blazing at the man before marching up to him. “Tell me he’s lying.”

Strange sighed, rubbing his temples. “It’s complicated—”

“No. No. No.” May’s voice was sharp, trembling with barely restrained rage as she pulled the wizard to her eye level with what one could only describe as motherly strength. “You’re telling me the best solution you could come up with, Doctor is making everyone forget Peter exists!? Do you have any idea what that would do to him!?”

Peter and Teresa flinched they knew that tone of voice May was speaking in, it was the same voice she used on multiple teachers when they treated the two teenagers unfairly because they were…‘different’ but May had none of that. It was also a part of the reason for why Peter never talked about Flash being a jerk because if he did then whatever Teresa did to protect her twin brother would look mild to the wrath of Aunt May. 

Nonetheless Strange stayed impassive through he struggled against the woman’s grip against his shirt. “It’s not ideal, but it will protect him. This is what he chose.”

“Nope.” May stepped forward, eyes wet but furious. “This is what he thinks he has to do, because he is a kid who has been fighting battles no one else would, and no one else has given him a better option.” She turned to Peter, gripping his face between her hands, forcing him to meet her gaze.

His eyes—red-rimmed and exhausted—shattered her. Her face quickly softened as she took a deep breath and release her grip but still held his face in her hand. “Sweetheart,” she said softly, “You don’t have to do this alone.”

Peter swallowed hard. “But if they don’t forget, they’ll still come after you.”

“I don’t care,” she said, her voice breaking. “I am the adult Peter it’s my job to take care of you as your guardian. I am not letting you give up your entire life just to keep me and your sister safe. That’s not your responsibility.”

His lip trembled. “But you two are all I have left.”

A sharp breath. Then, without thinking for a moment, she pulled him into a tight hug. “And you two are all I have left. Of your mother, of Ben…and I don’t even want to imagine what my life would be without the two of you in it…”

Peter clung to her as he finally broke down crying after so long. May held him remembering all the nights when she held him as he cried for his mom. May then turned to Teresa who has been silently watching the scene unfold as her own tears started to pour from her eyes. May held her arm out to her and she came crashing into them as she let herself cry.

“Don’t…don’t you ever do something so stupid.” Teresa’s voice sounded so broken which hurt Peter way more since Teresa was the strongest person he ever knew. She was always so headstrong, brave, and incredibly smart, he immediately felt horrible for making her cry but her next words immediately made him cry more. “I don’t want to imagine a world without you, you’re more than just my twin Pete, you’re my best friend”

“Awww, you admitted that we’re friends!!!” Peter immediately pulled her into a hug as Teresa had a look of dread. “Don’t make me take that back.” “Too late you admitted that we’re friends!!” Peter knew that he was going to bring up this moment for the rest of their lives before Teresa shoved him off her. “Okay that’s enough emotions for one day.”

May could only shake her head at the two as she watched Peter begin to chase Teresa for another hug as she tried to avoid him. Some things never change. “Should we do something?” Strange asked May wondering what has his life come down to, but May shook her head, “Let them be kids for just a few moments longer…”

After a few minutes, Peter was able to grab hold of Teresa and hugged her for a good few minutes until she got out of his grip and dramatically ‘perished’. That was able to cheer Peter up before he hugged Teresa and May, “What are we going to do then? The whole world knows that Peter Parker is Spider-Man.”

May turned back to Strange, her grip on the twins tightening. “There has to be another way.”

May saw how Strange hesitated and immediately pounced on that hesitation. “There is another way. You’re just not telling us.”

Strange exhaled sharply. “There is something I can try,” he admitted. “But it had its risks.”

May straightened letting go of the twins to cross her arms starting at Strange dead in the eyes. “What kind of risk?”

“I can send you somewhere else,” Strange said carefully. “Another dimension. A universe where there’s no Parker family, but you’ll won’t be able to come back to this world.”

May and Teresa didn’t even take a second to think it over. “Do it.”

Peter’s eyes widened as he tried to object his sister and aunt giving up their lives here for him. “Wait—May, Tess, no you don’t have to—”

Teresa quickly interrupted her brother as she grabbed hold of him saying, “If you think I’m letting my brother go to another universe without me, you’ve lost your damn mind,” Peter looked stricken. “But, but—your lives—Tess your career!!?”

“I don’t care, Peter!!! I don’t want to live in a universe where you’re not in it,” she yelled at him angry that he was so stubborn, she knew her brother hated asking for help. If she let her brother do this alone he probably would’ve self destructed from ‘A. Not asking for help. B. Thinking he has to this on his own so no one gets hurt. C. Blame himself for things he couldn’t control even though if someone dared to do that to themselves he would say it wasn’t their fault BUT NOT LISTEN TO HIS OWN ADVICE!!!????’ She took a deep breath trying to calm herself down from her anger while her family and Strange looked at her funny.

Teresa squished her brother’s face as she continued her rant, “Peter John Fitzpatrick Parker, if you think for one second I’d let you face this alone, you don’t know me as well as you think. We have faced monsters, villains, scientists, gods, robots, assassins, missionaries, bullies, bullets, the cops, and much more so if you think that I’m going to allow you to go at this alone then well you’re going to be very disappointed.”

Peter’s face crumpled because this proves just how much she cared about him, yeah he knew she loved him but she kinda has to since their family it was just nice to know that she also liked him as well. “T—”

May walked up to them gently brushing his curls back. “Peter we’re in this together, sweetheart. Always.” Peter inhaled shakily, then nodded.

Strange sighed. “Fine. But don’t blame me if it goes sideways.”

May smirked. “I’m pretty sure our lives are already sideways wizard man.” Before Strange could correct her she asked, “Do you think we can get some stuff before we go?”

Strange thought it over before telling them, “You’ve got an hour at most. The longer you wait, the more unstable this universe becomes.” For the Parkers an hour was enough when you’ve lived your whole life trying to survive. 

Peter quickly swung them to the apartment and as soon as they were on the ground they began packing. Peter stuffed hoodies into a backpack while Teresa grabbed hold of their mothers old trench coat and uncle Ben’s old leather jacket opting to wear the latter to save room in her bag.

“Only what you need!” May shouts, half to them, half to herself. “Clothes, food, the blanket—Teresa, grab your shoes—not the left ones only, hun and—Why do we own five boxes of dry pasta and no granola bars when I know I bought some?!”

May skids into the hallway her heart pounding in her chest. When she remembered, the boxes. May races back back into her room—where she kept Mary’s boxes hidden in a fireproof chest under her bed. The words Peter and Teresa, in Mary’s unmistakable handwriting. The corners are a little dusty. Untouched for years, her chest tightened. “Mary…” she breathes. “Wherever you are—I hope you know I’m keeping my promise.” She grabs them both. Tucks them tightly under her arm like they’re made of gold—which, to her, they are. As the twins kept packing May began writing a note before burning an offering to someone, someone who she should’ve asked for help long ago but she chose to respect Mary’s wishes. She then left with the twins hoping that the goddess would read the note before they left.

As Doctor Strange drew the spell, his brow furrowed, cape fluttering in the wind leaking in through broken dimensional seams. That’s when the Parkers returned with ten minutes to spare.

“You sure about this, Ms. Parker?” he says, glancing at her.

“Not even a little,” May answered honestly, wrapping an arm around both kids. “But they don’t belong in a world that’s falling apart. As long as they’re safe, that’s all that matters to me.”

Then, with a flick of his wrist, Strange cast the spell— And the world they knew disappeared.

Chapter Text

So traveling to another universe was extremely fun for Teresa and Peter mainly for Teresa who had never experienced anything like it. It was like being pulled through space itself, which was always a dream of hers but she never ended up in space but from what Peter told her it was cool…until they died then it was less cool. May only gave him a look before resting a hand on his shoulder for comfort, she still wondered what it was like for the twins to die only to come back to life but she couldn’t bare to ask the question. 

For May on the other hand who hasn’t experienced thrills like this in…decades, to say the least it was safe to say that she started to feel a bit sick after flying…falling? Whichever one, in the air for a while. ‘Uggh why couldn’t it just teleport us there and be over witthhhh.’

As fast as they come her negative thoughts were quickly dismissed when she watched Peter and Teresa had their fun, they spun around in the air, mimicking the classic flying pose in the air, and doing acrobatics. May couldn’t help but smile seeing that they were acting like kids again after what felt like years.

However the twins soon got bored floating in the air after…a day maybe? Since the three Parker’s had no idea how long it’s been since they entered through the portal to this universe but it sure was taking a minute. “Are we there yet?” Peter asked laying down on his back as he looked at the others. “Not from what I can see.” Teresa replied to her brother, sitting crisscrossed beside him as her hair flew up, for what felt like the eleventh time since he last asked 10 minutes ago. “Uggggghhhhhh” Peter groaned sliding his hands down his face.

Honestly, it felt like they were falling for days to put it lightly, just like a certain pit that May heard about but was fortunate enough to never see…. “—May, it’s your turn!” Teresa’s voice snapped her back to reality, they somehow managed to play cards though she was still questioning, how the cards were staying put? ‘Like I know Peter put a water bottle on top of the deck but still! It should be flying up with the cards and—oh forget it!!’ 

“Got any 10’s?” She finally asked, finally gave up trying to make sense of it. After all they’re in a portal to a different universe yet she’s questioning the physics of a deck of cards not floating away.

“Go fish.” Peter replied as he quickly handed May a card from the deck. She took it, just as Teresa was about to take her turn, it seemed as though they had finally reached their destination. 

How could they tell? Well it was probably from how their bodies felt as if they were being stretched and twisting, their bones vibrating. The pain was overwhelming—blinding even—until suddenly there was a bright light then—

BAM

The next thing they knew they all landed into a dumpster that was opened, as only one thing came to all their minds, ‘Classic Parker Luck.’ 

For a second, everything was quiet well except for the distant sound of city sirens. Despite being in pain Teresa was the first to get up from the dumpster rubbing her head in pain, “Where in the world are we? Gahh, my head hurts!” That’s when she heard a rustle near her, she went on full alert mode getting in position to defend herself only to see a young boy with familiar brown hair but with a white streak in his bangs. 

“Who are you!?” She said harsher than she ment to for a kid but she couldn’t help it, her heart pounding, and her body was already prepared to fight if necessary, her eyes were scanning the dim dumpster for any advantages. At first, she didn’t see him make any signs of danger but she wasn’t going to risk any chances, until she looked down at herself and froze in shock. Her hands curled up to fists were small, well smaller than what her hands should be and her clothes were way too big, her shirt and the leather jacket being the only thing that was staying put. 

‘What in the world!? WHY AM I SO SMALL!!!!???? Come on I was only an inch and a half shorter than Peter! Wait a minute if I’m smaller than that must mean—‘ She turned back to the young boy and started to analyze him to see if theory forming in her mind was correct. It was a small boy, to a stranger they probably would’ve thought he was seven but if Teresa remembers correctly then he really was maybe eight or nine years old, he was on his but looking up at her, he was wearing a familiar yellow jacket with a familiar red and blue suit draped awkwardly over his tiny frame. 

However it seemed that it wasn’t just his size or the gray streak in his hair that was different, but those wide stormy grey eyes that strangely looked familiar as they stared at her in shock. Last time she checked her brother had soft brown eyes and had no gray streak. But, when those big grey eyes looked at her, with the same confused and scared look that she knew too well by now, no matter how hard he tried to hide it, confirmed it to her that this was in fact her brother.

“…Peter?”

Her breath caught in her throat. Her voice, it sounded so young and small…she couldn’t believe it if she didn’t just hear it.

Peter was confused to say the least when he saw the young girl in front of him standing in a way that just told you that she wasn’t afraid to fight, the same stance that Teresa would make whenever they got ready to spare only this girl had dark black hair with a white streak in her bangs instead of the soft brown they both shared. He thought he was about to get mugged by a little girl until she said his name confirming that it was his sister.

“Oh my God,” they said at the same time. Teresa ran up to Peter holding his face. “Peter what happened to your eyes!?” Peter was confused but instead of answering he asked his own question, “My eyes? T looked at your hair!?” Before either one of them could question what the other said they realized that they were missing May that was until they heard groaning. 

They turned to see May sitting up from where she landed. They immediately rushed towards her trying to tell her what was happening but they were speaking over one another, “May something weird is going on and—“ “May I don’t know what’s going on but I’m not this small—” The two froze when they saw their aunt.

May sat up despite the pain in her head as she heard the twins trying to tell her something but she couldn’t figure out what about until she saw them. Her kids were…kids!? She recognized her niece and nephew immediately she didn’t need to look at them twice to recognize the kids she raised. “Kids, what happen—“ as May tried to stand in the dumpster she sank into the pile of trash cause apparently it’s hard to balance yourself on top of trash. When the two kids saw this they immediately tried to help her with Peter using himself for her to learn on, while Teresa grabbed hold of her arm and tried to pull her out of the sinking trash. 

‘Okay not the weirdest thing to happen to me but I’d rather not be in a dumpster.’ As soon as May gained a bit of balance as she grabbed hold of the twins and was able to jumped out of the dumpster so that they didn’t have be in there for another minute. When they landed it suddenly hit May, ‘How did I do that?’ She was confused on how she didn’t feel any pain from doing a stunt like that. She knew that she might’ve been in good health, at least before the incident she was, but even so she shouldn’t have been able to carry two kids without feeling any sort of pain at her age. 

That’s when she touched her face, the fine lines of age were gone, “What in the?” She then looked down at the kids who were still staring at her in shock. Then, after a moment of silence, they both began to giggle.

“What’s so funny?!” May asked frazzled, still trying to make sense at what was going on and she wasn’t sure what was so funny. Peter grinned, his dimples deep as he answered. “You look so young.”

That caused May to calm down a bit so she could retort “Oh, I look young?! Look at you two, your both are babies!” May had a smirk as she teased the two kids that eyes now barely met her stomach.

That caused Peter to laughed harder. “I feel funny.”

Before she could make a sassy comment of ‘You also look a little funny’, her head began to throb. She staggered, as she she fell against the alley’s wall gripping her head in pain.

“May!?” The twins laughter died when they saw their aunt in pain rushing towards her. 

Something felt… off. Her body buzzed with an odd energy. The city around her was felt louder than it should’ve been. Her senses were too sharp, too aware. She tried to lift herself up using the dumpster as a support only the thing to be pushed back with ease.  Peter and Teresa could only stare at what May just did.  The two could understand if Peter did that with his spider-strength heck Teresa probably could have done it but May, who always asked help with the pickle jar?

“Shhhhoot.” May might’ve been internally panicking but she wasn’t about to swear on front of her niece and nephew. That’s when she saw Peter’s eyes and paled, those stormy grey eyes that he shared with his mother the eyes that were supposed to be hidden from the world. ‘No…No No No NO!!  This can’t be happening I didn’t think this would—“ May’s panicking was cut short when a gunshot rang out in the distance.

‘Wherever we are…it wasn’t home.’

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Back in New York inside the Empire State Building a certain goddess was currently in her domain looking through her scrolls of memories watching as they played out, surrounded by the stars and the sound of ticking clocks. For the goddess the sound served as a way to block everything out this was the only place where the numerous voices didn’t overwhelm her, that was until she feels it.

A sudden pull towards a certain unique scroll, or as the mortals called it a ‘graphic novel’ that was still in the process of creation, the pencil that was writing and drawing everything that was going on suddenly stopped. If she had a heart it surely would’ve stopped when she saw exactly whose it was. “No…”

She stopped the scroll of memories that she was watching rushing to the novel, robes flowing around her like storm clouds. She began trying to find their presence searches with her divine perception for the echoes of her grandchildren.

Nothing.

Not a voice, not a cut, not even the soft hum of their souls through the Elysian Fields.

“Impossible.”

She reaches into her scrying pool, her hand trembling, Athena trembling and tried to look for them. The water stays still. Blank. Dead.

“WHERE ARE THEY?!”

She suddenly broke her quick thought returning to the present in a temple of hers. Her voice cracks through Olympus like a whip. The other gods look on, stunned, not by the question, but by the panic behind it.

Athena steps away, pacing, shaking her head.

“I was…I wanted to…” Athena for once couldn’t speak correctly. She was wanting to watch over them, she did with her owl when they were younger but that was well over a decade ago. “I… I only needed time. They were mine.”

And suddenly, she sees her daughter’s face again.

Flashes of Mary’s life ran through her mind only to end in a lonely death. She held her head as the images kept rolling only to end with two children, with her daughter’s face and color bathed in the light of a portal.

And then nothing.

Athena dropped to her knees her fists slam against the marble floor with a thunderclap that flashes through the sky that blocked out the sounds of her screams. Statues crack, birds scatter from the high columns.

For a moment, just a moment, the goddess of war, wisdom, and strategy looks like nothing but a mother. “Mary…my Mary…I pushed you away now I’ve lost what remained of you. You were my greatest creation,” Athena whispers, grief caught in her throat. “And I threw you away.”

A certain messager god watched as his sister unraveled for once not caring about her image, something he hadn’t seen in thousands of years. Not since a certain champion of her’s where she begged for his release. Hermes could only sigh as he turned his attention towards the goddess he gave the note to, “Do you think I should tell her?” The god asked conflicted on what to do.

“It’s up to you, dear nephew.” Hestia answered unsure what to make of this situation herself. She had always not bothered herself with mortal affairs but not even she could help herself when it came to those unclaimed children who prayed to her. She still remembered how she felt when she found out that she could adopt some of the demigods, giving them a little purpose and advice when needed. Now her oldest was gone to another universe to keep those she loves safe. “I only pray that May doesn’t continue to hide herself…that girl is something amazing even if she can’t see it in herself.” Hermes could only nod at his aunt as he took a bite of the sandwich that was offered.

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After May was sure the person with the gun wasn’t anywhere near them she tried to call her heart and think on what to do. ‘Okay May think what do we have the boxes, my wallet, a first aid kit, the twins birth certificates, bottled water, tissues, and some snacks though not enough to last a while with Peter’s high metabolism. What we don’t have is a home, a map, and we have no idea where in the world we are!? Worst of all we’re on the streets…’ May sank in defeat at their situation.

Peter sat beside her, his little legs swinging, face scrunched in concentration as he examined a crumpled newspaper he’d found. He was still swimming in his oversized suit and jacket, his tiny hands gripping the edges of the paper tightly. Meanwhile Teresa was in May’s arms not seeming to want to let go anytime soon. May began to rub her temples, trying to ignore the sharp buzz in her skull that hadn’t gone away since they landed here. She stopped and ran a hand down her face. 

“Okay,” she muttered. “Okay, okay. We can figure this out.” Peter hummed, head tilted. “Where is this place?” May and the twins started to look around.

To try and put into words about the place they were currently at it was bleak….The streets were cracked and damp from the last rainfall, with trash littering the gutters. Buildings loomed high, their brick and stonework aged and worn, covered in grime and neon graffiti. Most of the streetlights flickered like they were barely clinging to life. The air smelled of gasoline, sewage, and something off—like rust and desperation.

Her stomach began to twisted New York was dangerous, but this place? The air itself felt wrong heavy and thick with tension. People moved too fast, eyes downcast, shoulders hunched as if waiting for something terrible to happen something that she was too familiar with.

The worst part though? Peter and Teresa weren’t reacting like normal kids would. If they were normal kids they would’ve been crying, panicking, clinging to her and begging her to fix this but the twins they just looked so tired. Her chest ached something in her broke as she saw what Mary and her tried so hard to avoid. The twins were kids again small, fragile, little kids they shouldn’t look like this. She forced herself to focus.

May had lived in New York her whole life, being on the run for most of it after her parents died, she knew the signs of a bad neighborhood. But this wasn’t just bad. This was wrong.

“Maybe we’re still in New York?” Peter offered with a little smile of hope. But Teresa only responded back with a look that said, “You can not be serious.”  May herself couldn’t help but frown. “No, I don’t think so Pete. This feels different.”

Peter’s brow furrowed at the two girls wanting so hard to make good of what they had since they are only here because of him. He looked back down at the newspaper in his hand flipping through it to give them some idea of where they were. His eyes widened, “Uh, guys?”

“What?” The two Parker girls asked watching as Peter turned the paper around, showing her the headline: GOTHAM GAZETTE THE JOKER ESCAPES…AGAIN

May and Teresa blinked in surprise then May grabbed the paper out of Peter’s hands. “Gotham?” May repeated. 

“Joker?” Teresa said in confusion looking at the clown on the newspaper, “What did he do get arrested for bad jokes? If so Peter you’re in trouble” Teresa playfully nudged Peter as he did the same action back laughing before scratched his head. “I think it’s safe to say that I don’t think we’re in New York anymore.” May could only groan in frustration wishing that the ground could swallow her. “Did you really think we were!” Teresa asked shocked at how her brother thought this place was New York, only to get a response back with a shrug, “Can’t blame a guy for believing.” Teresa could only face palm at her brother.

After a few minutes May was finally to get a grip on reality and started to do at least something. “Peter give me your suit.” Peter was reluctant since his suit was the only thing he was wearing but he zipped up his jacket before handing it to May who stuffed it in Peter’s backpack. “Okay now we need to fix this whole wardrobe situation” May began to try to fix their clothes so that they didn’t walk around in their oversized shirts the whole time until they could get some new ones but until then they had to make do with what they had. Peter was now wearing a red hoodie that fell below his knees and made was able to make him some shorts with an old pair of jeans and a belt while Teresa was able to turn her shirt into a dress with the leather jacket still one (she refused to part with it).  “Okay now we have to find find shelter—“ May was cut off by the sounds of their stomachs growing. “Right after we find something to eat!” May hoped they’d find something fast she doesn’t want to lose what little light they had left.

__________________________________

Turns out finding a meal and a place to sleep had been harder than the Parker’s thought. Most places looked at them with suspicion the second they walked in, and the last thing they needed was someone calling the cops on them.

Eventually, they settled on a cheap diner. The neon sign barely glowed, and the inside smelled like old grease, but the cashier barely gave them a second glance. May despite the unease she felt ordered them something to eat “Hello, can I get a deli sandwich and a small bowl of soup please” She smiled kindly at the employee only to be met with a rude hum. She didn’t say anything and just waited for the food she knew that they needed to make the money last however long they can. She was also able to snag an extra bread roll when she got her food, discreetly wrapped it up to save for later, while she didn’t like stealing that didn’t mean she didn’t know how to. 

“Sorry it’s not much guys but hopefully it’ll hold us for now.” She knew that there was no way a sandwich would be able to fill their metabolisms up let alone half but she had to make do with what they had. The twins didn’t complain though each eating their sandwich half quietly, both chewing slower than usual—probably trying to make it last. May couldn’t help but keep her eyes on the door, alert. This city didn’t feel safe.

Once they finished eating, she was able to snag some granola bars for them to eat later and they left. Night had begun to fall and May didn’t like it one bit since it made the already dark streets even darker. She held both of their hands tightly as they walked, scanning every shadowed alley and every stranger they passed. The further they walked, the worse the city felt.

That’s when the sound of the twins yawning snapped her back her heart started to clench harder. She had to find them somewhere safe to stay. That’s when Teresa’s eyes lit up as she began running which May followed after carrying Peter when she noticed he was too tired to run. Teresa had led them to an abandoned overhang behind an old building. It wasn’t perfect, but it would keep them out of sight. Teresa could only stare at awe at the architect of the building.

“Alright, kiddos.” She guided Peter to sit on an old couch. “We’ll stay here tonight.”

Peter could only nod sleepily. “Okay.”

May immediately noticed the way he was shivering. The night air was colder than she expected, the dampness clinging to their skin. Peter, and Teresa began to rub their arms against the cold. “It’s colder than New York.” May frowned. Now that she thought about it… it was. Their New York winters were brutal, but something about Gotham’s air felt colder, like it seeped into your bones. It wasn’t just the weather—it was the city. It felt wrong and May didn’t have a clue on why.

She slipped off her jacket and wrapped it around Peter’s tiny frame. Peter blinked up at her. “May, you’ll be cold.”

“I’ll be fine,” she lied.

Peter chewed his lip but didn’t argue. He huddled beneath the fabric, his small hands gripping the edges tightly. Teresa climbed up on the old couch while dusty at least it seemed that there was no weird stains nor springs bouncing out. She then hugged Peter hoping their combined body heat could warm them both up. When Peter fell asleep and Teresa watched May move around she asked, “You’re not gonna leave, right?”

The question was quiet but powerful. May gave her a sad smile before sitting beside them, slipping an arm around their tiny shoulders and pulling them close. She knelt down, cupping her little girl’s face. “Sweetheart, I am never leaving you.” Her eyes were big and round and so blue. She nodded, still uncertain, then yawned. She pulled her close, tucking her against her side.

As she dozed off, May pressed a kiss to both their curls. “It’s gonna be okay,” she murmured. “I promise.” Teresa nodded as she fell asleep. She didn’t say she believed her, but she didn’t say she didn’t, either.

May couldn’t sleep she kept her back against the couch, one arm still around the two kids, keeping them as close as possible. Her senses felt off. Everything was too loud. She could hear the distant sound of sirens, the murmur of voices from blocks away. Even the flickering streetlamp nearby sounded like an electrical hum vibrating in her skull. She tried to ignore it. Tried to push it down but it was all in vain when—

BANG!

May’s whole body started to locked up. A gunshot. Peter flinched in his sleep, curling into her tighter. Teresa only softly snored as she rolled to her side. But May her breathing started to spike. It was distant. Not close enough to be an immediate threat. But to her mind and body that didn’t matter. The sound had already ripped her from Gotham and thrown her back—

Back to the night Ben died. She was standing in the street. Rain soaking into her clothes. The light from the convenience store burning too bright. The sickening realization settling in her chest as she saw Ben’s motionless body on the pavement—

‘No.’ May clenched her jaw. Forced herself to breathe. She would not break down. Not here, not now. She looked at the twins. Peter’s face was peaceful, his breath steady while Teresa had her arm raised above her head as she snores away. She tightened her hold on them.

‘I won’t let anything happen to you. Not again. Never again.’ She adjusted her jacket around Peter , making sure he was warm. Then she reached into her bag, gripping the small first aid kit inside. They never questioned why she always had one with her since she was a nurse but in reality she had always carried it for them just in case.

She exhaled shakily, willing her heartbeat to slow. No matter what this city threw at them, no matter how bad it got. She would not let it take Mary’s kids away from her.

May wasn’t sure how much time passed since the twins fell asleep but at some point, she noticed something weird. Her body was still buzzing, but it wasn’t from adrenaline, nor from fear. Something else, something she recognized way too well. Her hearing was too sharp, the streetlamp too bright, her muscles felt too light then—

FLOSH

She froze before slowly turning her head. A small spark of warmth orange flames ignited onto the table beside her glowing bright at her. She could only stared at it before looking down at her hand. Her fingers twitched—

And another set of sparks shot out, sticking to the floor lighting it up with flames. May’s breath caught in her throat. “Oh, Hades no.” She was quick to get out of the twins’ hold to put out the flames before they spread.