Peter Parker & Tom Holland Imagines

miss americana & the heartbreak prince pt.4

I run down the hallway, ignoring the look from the girl talking on her phone, but I don't care. The second I got the call from May, I dropped everything—literally. Now one of mom's favorite bowls is shattered on our kitchen floor.

It's the last thing that matters right now. What does is making sure Peter and May are holding up. They've taken me in like family since we became friends, even more so since we started dating, and I can't imagine not doing everything possible to help them right now.

May answers after one knock. Her usually bright, bubbly demeanor is gone, buried under the tears trailing down her cheeks. Neither of us say a word; she just pulls me tightly against her chest. I feel her falling apart in my arms.

The apartment feels so cold and empty knowing Ben won't be here again. He was always so kind to me. Every time I came by, there was a smile waiting, usually with a silly joke that made me laugh even if it wasn't funny. It's was how Ben told it that made it so.

"Peter's—um—he's in his room. I haven't been able to get a word out of him since we got home, but I think you being here will be good for him." She tells me as she pulls away. "It's just like when his parents passed, except—except Ben's not here to help him through it."

"I'm so sorry, May." I whisper through tears as I take her hand. "But if you need anything at all, please, let me know, and I will be here no matter what."

"Thank you, but right now, Peter needs you more than I do."

I nod and hesitantly head to Peter's room as May collapses into her chair. My heart breaks when I reach his door. It's cracked open enough to where I can see Peter curled up on his bed, eyes screwed shut as he cries. I gently knock on the door, but he doesn't open his eyes as he croaks out, "Go away."

"We both know, I can't to do that." I whisper and crouch next to him. He still refuses to open his eyes, "Pete, please, don't shut me out. I know how badly this hurts, but you don't have to face this alone."

It's quiet for a long minute, and I have to keep myself from grabbing his hand. As much as it hurts. I have to wait on him. Finally, he speaks up, his voice barely audible, "But it's my fault."

My heart shatters at that. There's such a blunt honesty to his voice; it hurts to think he truly believes any part of this falls on him. Tears fall down my cheek as I gently tug his hands from his face and hold them in mine. "Don't you dare say that, Pete. Absolutely none of this is your fault, and blaming yourself will only make the pain worse."

"It is it though." Peter cries, "Ben was out looking for me. If I hadn't gotten mad and stayed out past curfew, he'd still be here."

"Maybe. Or maybe he would've been out for some other reason." I argue and force him to look me in the eye. He pulls away after a second, and I can see he doesn't believe me. "Let me ask you this, Pete. Did you rob that bodega?"

"No, but—"

"Please, let me finish. Were you holding the gun? Did you pull the trigger?" He shakes his head. "Then it is not your fault. The only person who carries the blame is the man who shot Ben. Terrible things happen every single day—to good and bad people alike, and no matter how hard we try, there will still be bad people and bad things that happen out there."

"But it wasn't supposed to happen to him." Peter whimpers and squeezes my hand so gently I almost don't feel it.

"I know." I reply and run a hand through his hair. "But you're not doing this alone. You have May, Ned, and me. We're here for you through all of this, and I promise, you will get through this."

Peter nods and stays quiet for a long time before he opens up his arms for me like he does whenever one of us isn't doing well. I immediately slip off my shoes and coat to cuddle next to him in the small twin size bed, and he immediately pull me as close as possible. "Thank you." He mumbles into my hair.