Chapitre 20: Arc One. Chapter Twenty. Somewhere To Call Home
When the movers came, Gwen was outside arguing with her father over something that Peter couldn't quite make out. He was learning to tune out voices and noises by listening to his heartbeat and so far it was good enough to stop louder noises from deafening or hurting his ears, of course, if he relaxed he would hear what was being said but respected Gwen's privacy.
He waved and undid the huge bolt holding the double half bay doors closed, he'd made the decision to weld the top half closed but kept the bottom free, welding new hinges, exactly for a situation like this. One of the movers whistled in awe as they started to bring in what seemed to Peter to be a never-ending stream of not just boxes but furniture. Peter pointed to the first home and like ants, they began to work.
Of course, George glared at him while they did, Gwen batted him on the arm and he had to walk away as they got into a heated argument. He knew George didn't like him, didn't think he was good enough for his daughter but today he should be more supportive, he knew how hard it was to leave home and Gwen did too.
Couch, bed, large, and small household appliances were walked through the double doors, Peter was amazed. Gwen, no, George must have spent several thousand dollars, his stupor only being broken with an engineer wanting to know where the washer hook up was. Going into the box home, Peter showed them the pipes and the cut-offs and watched in amazement as a ballet of house movers danced and brought box after box into the house. It seemed that maybe Gwen had gone overboard, he still just had a cot bed, a table, and a folding chair in his office, sure he'd snagged a shower and converted a wet room like the others but this, this was mind-blowing.
Gwen seemed unfazed as she directed and then shooed each mover away once they had delivered their payload She caught Pete, open-mouthed and shrugged "I, I had a bit saved is all, plus, Mr 'I live like a hobo', do you have a washing machine?" she accused him, of course, he didn't, he thought about it but it got added to the list of ever-growing things to get. George Stacey watched silently as his pride and joy and right now the biggest pain in his ass, next to the Parker kid, emptied his wallet and house of anything not nailed down.
He had argued she was too young, which didn't work as Parker was a few months younger, had been working and owned the building. He argued that living together with a boy was unseemly. She pointed out that he had his own place, hers had a lock, and with MJ moving in too she wasn't living alone with Peter. In the end, he gave up and begrudgingly gave his blessing to Gwen but was still giving Peter the stink eye. He had to admit though that finding out the warehouse belonged to Peter was a shock, maybe the kid did have some potential after all, and he shook his head, still not good enough for my Gwennie.
As they were both moving on the same day, Peter left to go to the apartment, carrying armfuls of black bags and a few small items to a rental van. Most of his stuff had been moved already and even as he surveyed the empty room he felt a little twinge of sadness. This place had been his shelter for the years after he lost his uncle, the shell he built to console himself and now, was he ready to break out of it?
Aunt May had surprised him and they had driven to a second-hand store, filled with old furniture from house clearances and pawned items. Peter had leapt at a huge catering table and the staff had been honestly glad to get rid of it. Its massive size was more suited for a hotel function room rather than a home. He was given a bed, tables, chairs, and a few worn but serviceable chairs, all mismatched but all well looked after and soon, with more than he could have ever asked for they made their way back to the warehouse. Knowing MJ was in the same situation as him, he snagged a few extras, taking another bed and some scruffy but still usable chairs so she had furniture as well.
Once his van was emptied he got out of the way, giving Aunt May a peck on the cheek and waved as she drove off to return the rental van. He made a circuit of the building, making sure nothing was out of place, more to keep himself out of the way than anything else and peaking inside the truck saw that they were about half done. He sent a text to Gwen promising to head to the lunch trucks, load up on burgers and sodas for the movers as a small thank you, and did she want anything?
Making his way to one of the nicer trucks he bumped into a familiar figure. Felicia. She was standing on a street corner, which Peter knew was a usual hangout spot of the pimps and prostitutes, her figure not just standing out but conspicuous
"Uh, Felicia, that's, that's not such a great place to hang out, you know." He called over to her, Nah, she wasn't working there was she? He knew her dad had been gone for a while, a rumour circulating that he'd ran off but even she didn't need to hook to get by did she?
She seemed to freeze as she spotted him "Parker?" she called out and "uh, Nah, just waiting for someone, but yeah, it's weird, to uh see you here?"
Peter nodded at the truck, "I live here, work's close by and Gwen's moving in today as well." It was just small talk, Felicia was an acquaintance, not a friend but he wouldn't ignore her, she was just rude to him, never one of the bullies.
"Gwen? you're living together with Gwen?" Felicia asked, surprised. She knew Gwen had offered to share a place with her and MJ but not with Peter. Was he living at the warehouse? She would have to phone Gwen later and find out. It proved Venoms words though, Peter was staying there, and now she could try and get his help, but not today.
"Uh yeah, it's a nice place, you should stop by sometime."
She snorted, "sure Parker, but uh, I think my friend's not coming, see you around," and as he watched she seemed to be checking out her surroundings before leaving.
That was weird he thought to himself, before loading up on various burgers and condiments, enough for the dozen guys moving plus him and Gwen. Grudgingly he bought a couple of spares for George but he figured he'd make some asshole comment and then leave before eating.
He returned to a swarm of movers in the warehouse, coming and going from Gwen's new home, she nudged up to him as he set out the case of sodas and burgers on the huge wooden table he'd decided to sit in the middle of the warehouse, a nice breakfast table for everyone.
"So uh, Dad's going to stick around after the guys leave, but yay us, we've got a washer-drier installed and my kitchen has a fridge-freezer, so we can have some proper food for once." Gwen had snuggled up to Peter, letting their sides touch, ignoring her dad's glare, he was too busy directing moves to come over and she enjoyed the contact.
"We have food," Peter said defensively. Gwen raised an eyebrow at him
"Real food Pete, not out a can or from a food truck, re-al fooood!" She spelt it out and then grinned and snorted at her joke. Movers took breaks and Gwen shifted into emptying boxes once they had been moved into rooms, leaving her father to eyeball Peter.
"I'm not happy son," he said as Peter grabbed another burger, the movers were all but done, leaving several cans and empty cartons on the table. "I'm not happy my daughter is moving in with," he breathed out through his nose, "a delinquent. Jack Thompson reported someone vandalised his car, you wouldn't know anything about that would you?"
Peter shrugged. "If I did I don't have to say anything do I?" Peter took a huge bite out of the cheeseburger, he loved the ones from a food truck just outside the 7-11 as they used actual cheese, "plus, he's a giant douchebag, so good for whoever did that," he said chewing the burger while he spoke,
George felt his blood pressure rise. "Look son, you might think that dropping out and acting like a tough guy will get you ahead in life but let me tell you-" He waved a finger at Peter,
"No, George, let me tell you, you're a piece of work, Gwen lives here, not you, and as for me, you know nothing about me, this warehouse, is mine, not leased, not rented, mine, I own it. Gwen pays me to live here, and Jack Thomson, oh boo fucking hoo, a rich asshole gets what coming to him after his son gets me suspended and now you, you come here, siking the cops on me, trying to make me feel like I'm not good enough? At least I don't harass teenage boys while the city gets overrun by crooks and murders. At least I don't spend my Sunday feeling the balls of some senator so I can get a new tank for my department. So George, unless Gwen asks you to stay unless Gwen invites you over, how about you get the fuck off my property." Peter waved the half-eaten burger towards the door, his gesture obvious, before stuffing it fully into his mouth.
George Stacy was not a man used to being talked to like that, he demanded respect and he damn well got it, "listen, you little shit-" Peter stuck his hand up in front of his face.
"uh, officer, I believe I asked you to remove yourself from my property, as a law enforcement official you should know that trespassing is a felony, I've asked once," Peter stood right in his face, his eyes staring straight into Georges, "Don't. Make. Me. Ask. Again."
George could see the resolve in Peter's eyes, he wasn't bluffing and while he'd be invited over so it wasn't trespassing he wasn't going to push the issue. Peter wasn't the same boy he'd met before, wasn't the same as he'd heard Gwen talk about on the phone with her friends. No, this boy was different, mature, confident. Dangerous
Snorting George stepped back, "Gwen honey, It's been made clear I'm not wanted here, come home when you want, and if you need anything, just call." He grabbed his jacket from one of the folding chairs and made his way out of the building, hearing the heavy clang as Peter slammed and then very prominently bolted the double half doors closed.
George shook his head, intimidation wouldn't work, using the department would get him fired. He just needed an angle to prove to his daughter how much of a scumbag Peter was, just one and she would see things his way again.
Peter sighed, he hadn't wanted to start anything with George, he was Gwen's dad after all and if things were going to progress with Gwen, they needed to get along at least. He didn't want to be the source of conflict between her and her dad, "Uh Gwen?" She hadn't come out of the home yet and rapping on the door frame he saw that there were half-open boxes on the living room coffee table.
In the few short hours, everything had moved and now boxes littered the carpeted and furnished box house but as Peter moved to help Gwen she raised a finger at him, glaring. He paused in the doorway, unsure of where Gwen's anger was coming from.
Standing before Peter, she began to undress, stripping off the slacks she had on and soon she stood before him with nothing on and Peter gulped, he had thought she was joking about the underwear thing. "Don't even fucking think about it you shit, you've got some explaining to do"
As he stood watching, black liquid flowed over her body, covering her in latex-like material, her transformation changed and her arms and shoulders were now white with a pink trim the bald featureless mask, a coloured copy of his venom symbskin covered her. Her eyes were edged pink and a hood covered her head. Her mouth split apart into a huge maw,
"WE ARE ANGRY WITH YOU PETER!"
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone