Possession < Spider-Man • Book 1 >

- 14 -

chapter fourteen:

The sound of the door slamming rang in his ears. He couldn't seem to get rid of it. The shouting had subsided, leaving him in the cold, dank hallway, shivering on the floor. He leaned against the door, maybe his mother would let him back in. Maybe they'd give him a second chance.

It was a stupid thought. They didn't give his sister a second chance. He was no different. He was no better. He was just as dead to them as she was.

Caelum heard footsteps come up the stone steps. A familiar head of mousy brown hair that seemed bigger in the shadows of the hall. Peter had come. It made Caelum wonder just how long he had been sitting in this hallway.

"Caelum," Peter said gently. "Let's go, you can sleep at my place." He stepped forward tentatively, "We can go to my floor, come on."

"M. . . My mom," Caelum said softly. She was still in there. Would his father hit her like he did him? "She. . . my mom," his voice cracked, and his mind kept going back and forth, seemingly unable to snag on one coherent thought. As a result, his sentences were short and humbled.

Caelum felt his shoulders shake and he winced, inhaling. Peter grabbed his hand, and wrapped it around his shoulder. It didn't help much, Caelum was practically deadweight, almost unable to walk. He didn't know what to do. He didn't know where to go. Peter was helping him, he was taking him to his apartment.

Peter stumbled down the steps, but managed to not fall right on his face. They got to his floor and May Parker stood there. She had a floral robe on and curlers in her hair. Yet, there was a fierce, determined look on her face as she held the door open allowing them stumbled through. She looked so much like Peter.

Peter laid him on the couch, and Caelum hissed on the impact, curling in on himself. That only made his pain worse, however. "Peter, get the first aid kit," May ordered, locking the door and bolting it. Then, for extra measure, she put a chair underneath the doorknob. She hurried over to Caelum, pushing a strand of hair out of her face. "Hey sweetie, don't move, alright?" Caelum shuddered, breathing hard.

"My–My mom," he breathed. He couldn't get her out of his mind. The stunned look, her gaping mouth. "My mom." Was she okay? Were the boys okay?

"It's okay," She insisted. "She's–She's fine, just don't move."

"I. . . my mom," Caelum couldn't think to say anything else. Everything hurt so bad. He squeezed his eyes closed and groaned. He was so tired. He had to finish his work. He had to. . . his mom was still up there. And, his brothers. His mom loved him. She would come for him. His mom. . . his mom. . .

"Move your hands, Cael," Peter breathed, and Caelum shook his head, it hurt. He had to finish his work. "Cael, c'mon man. May ― she has to see your ribs."

"No. . . it hurts," he whined, and Peter nodded.

"I know," he said. "But it's–it's gonna hurt worse if you don't let her see."

"My mom," he whispered. "She. . . my mom. . ."

"Caelum, c'mon," Peter touched his hands, and Caelum shuddered. He was so warm. Caelum was freezing and Peter was so warm. "Can you see?"

"I can try," May admitted, and pulled up his shirt. "Oh. . ."

"Mom," Caelum moaned. He wanted his mother. He didn't want her to go. She was a doctor, she could help.

Someone squeezed his hands, he was warm. "It's okay. It's gonna be okay."

"We need to call 9-1-1," May said and Caelum jolted.