Peter Parker Imagines

Still Having Nightmares

Peter's fists gripped the sheets as tight as his hands would allow. He mumbles incoherent words while his legs kicked slightly. He stirred more and more with every passing second. The sound of his heart pounded through his skull, flashbacks playing back in a dream. Whimpers fell from his lips as the smallest tears slipped from the corner of his eyes. Peter released the sheet with one hand and punched out, connecting right with your back. It scared you awake with a yell while you held your back in pain. You look over and every ounce of pain you had just felt was washed away when you saw the look on Peter's face.

"Pete?" You said but he just stayed whimpering. "Peter, hey, you gotta wake up." Your voice was a little louder and you lightly shook him.

With a loud yell, Peter's hands came in front of him and he started punching the air, lucky for you, you were expecting it and were already backing away.

"Peter!" You yelled over his screaming, extending your arms to grab his hands. "It's me! It's me! Y/n. You're okay!" You struggled against him but his eyes found yours and he stopped moving, his chest heaving.

"D-did I..."

"It's okay." You take a deep breath, but don't release his wrists.

Peter swallows hard as tears start to slip down his cheeks. "I-I-I'm sorry. I..." He's catching his breath while your brows are furrowed. "I didn't...hurt you...again?"

"No, no, no." You shake your head as you lie, ignoring the throbbing in your back you were now aware of again.

Peter hangs his head and takes his wrists from you, wiping his cheeks. "You don't have to lie."

"It's fine, Peter."

"No, no it's not." Peter looks back to you with a cracked voice and hollowed eyes. "It's not okay." He tosses the rest of the blanket from him and gets up.

"Where're you going?" You turn to face him while he turns on the lamp.

"I-I just... I gotta go." Peter looks around the floor before going to the closet and yanking one of his t-shirts out and tossing it over his head.

"It's..." You look over at the alarm clock. "Two in the damn morning. C'mere."

"No." He shakes his head and his lips quivers.

"P-"

"No." Peter says again as he slides on a pair of sweatpants. "I-I can't keep doing this. I wake you up every other night and..." He stops as he looks you over.

Your skin is decorated in bruises of all shades. Some were yellow and some are black. Others were purple and some blue. They were everywhere. There was still a little bit of yellow accenting both of your eyes from a few weeks prior when Peter had broken your nose in his sleep. He swore he'd never forgive himself for that even though it was an accident and you promised you'd sleep on the couch until his nightmares would at least slow down but you went back on that promise rather quickly.

It wasn't easy sleeping on the couch, not that it wasn't comfortable but because of your lack of Peter. He almost died and not sleeping with him was like a ghost pain. He was there, just down the hall and you'd wake up if he stirred awake but he wasn't beside you. He almost died and you couldn't remember the night before, if you'd fallen asleep on his chest or wrapped his arms. You suddenly couldn't remember the sound of his heartbeat, something you knew better than your favorite song. You couldn't even remember if you said you loved him before he left even though it's something you did every single time. Sleeping on the couch, it was like Peter still wasn't home and you never wanted to get used to sleeping without him. So, you took the risk and begged Peter with tears in your eyes not to take the couch either.

He tried. He stayed awake until you fell asleep and then he'd tried but you always woke up. You were suddenly in tune with any time he'd wake up. You worried about him nonstop so if he woke up, you knew, except one time. But, that one time, he was only on the couch for half an hour until you stumbled into the living room with the blanket wrapped around your shoulders, sleepy eyes and a pout on your face. You both gave up on sleeping separately after that but it's come at a price.

"I'm okay." You say the words slowly as you get out of bed.

He shakes his head and backs away from you as you approach him. You stop dead in your tracks as you feel a lump form in your throat. He looks horrified, like he was the most dangerous person to walk the face of the planet and if you even came near him, you'd shatter.

"It's not okay. You're not okay. You shouldn't be hurt because of me." His eyes darted back and forth as he slipped out of the bedroom, you following a few feet behind him.

"It's not your fault." You say and those words seem to snap something in Peter.

He spins around, you nearly running into him. "Not my fault?" His voice raises. "Not my fault? I punch you and kick you in my sleep. I don't know the difference between you and some damn alien that tried fucking kill me half the damn time! My chest hurts every single day and my first reaction is to start swinging because I need to get out and I'm terrified this is some dream or if I can fight my out of it then I'll be okay and no one will be dead! Not my fault?" His voice echoes through your bones as he keeps getting louder and his face reddens. "This!" Peter grabs your wrist and turns your arm, showing the bruises. "This is me! I did that to you!"

"You didn't do on purpose." You shake your head as your eye gloss over.

"Bu-but I did it! I did it! I can kill you. I could kill you and-and-and-and-" Peter stammers, his hands now extended just barely in front of him. "I-I can't do that." His voice comes back down as he swallows hard and another tear falls.

"W-we can get through it." Your voice is barely a whisper.

"Yeah?" Peter says, his lips tugging up at the corner in heartbreak. "Why's your heart beating out of your chest? You're afraid."

You look down and shake your head. "No, I'm not." Your voice wavers.

"Yeah, yeah you are." Peter sucks on his teeth and turns back around, heading for the door.

"Peter, I promise." You follow after him again.

He reaches the door and faces you. "I can't keep hurting you and I can't...you shouldn't be afraid of me. And you shouldn't be awake every night making sure I'm okay. I know you don't sleep and it's been months and it's not fair to you. I-this...it can't-" Peter trips over his words, too many emotions flooding his veins at once. "I can't let this keep happening." His voice is almost as sad as the day he came home, the day he told you Tony died.

"It will get better." Your voice is delicate and soft but pleading.

"No," He shakes his head and cups your face softly, his thumbs brushing over your cheeks. "I-I gotta go to May. I gotta stay with May and I gotta...I gotta do me."

"Please, just wait until the morning, please, Peter." Your lip starts to quiver as your hands grasp his.

"If I don't-if I don't go now I won't go at all and I can't hurt you again." He shakes his head before placing a lingering kiss on your forehead, warm tears leaking from your eyes.

"Please..." You say as Peter pulls away.

"I-I'm so sorry." Peter says, wiping his eyes as he opens the door.

"But...I love you." Your words a mere whine and Peter stops.

He looks back at you and he knows leaving is breaking your heart. He knows it's killing you to watch him walk out, especially in the middle of the night but, he knows his strength. One night, it's gonna be too much or in the wrong place and you're gonna end up with much worse than just a broken nose and one night he could kill you. He can stop a bus with his bare hands, it's only a matter of time before that strength is used on you during one of his nightmares. Breaking your heart was better than killing you.

"I know." Peter forces himself to say before leaving, not looking back again.