Ugh [Peter Parker]

Regret

When he saw you walk into that café, he was sure you were safe. It was a little local joint. People went in and out constantly with no issue. It was in one of the safer parts of Queens as well. Still- something had told him to stay. Something deep down inside had screamed at him to just keep watch. It would've been such a simple thing to do- but he didn't do it. He turned his back and went elsewhere, knowing you'd be in there for a few hours or so. You were probably going to just do some homework or enjoy the quiet environment with some warm coffee.

As much as he'd love to just perch atop the roof across the street and watch you peacefully, he knew he couldn't- shouldn't.

So he left.

He had absolutely no way of knowing what was about to happen. Especially since as he turned away, he missed the suspicious hooded figure headed down the street. His senses didn't go off because the figure hadn't been sure of their intentions just yet. By the time they were, Peter was already elsewhere, stopping some petty mugger. For a brief moment, his thoughts were clear. They were blissful and painless- and then his Spider-Sense was practically screaming at him. Every hair on his body stood on end and his mind was set in pure panic mode. It was the biggest reaction he'd ever gotten from his heightened senses and for a few moments, he wasn't sure why. He took in his surroundings, confused as to why he couldn't see or hear any danger nearby.

Then he felt it.

A hard hit to his side- pain that didn't belong to him. Pain that belonged to you.

He cursed under his breath as he started running, shooting a web and swinging off as fast as he could. He knew you were still there, he could feel it- but god, he was scared to ask himself if you would be there any longer.

You still lay on your stomach, trying not to tremble as you felt the cold barrel of a gun press to the back of your skull. If it was possible, you were even more terrified. You couldn't see your attacker or how close he was to pulling the trigger. You could only see the petrified faces of the strangers before you. Their expressions told you that you were far from safe. Was this really how you had to go? On your belly, face down and shaken to your very core?

The gun pressed even closer and you had to fight back tears. Why couldn't this guy just take the money and leave? He had everyone's full cooperation- so why did he feel the need to do this to you? To make an example of you?

"P-Please- sir. I'll give you everything we have- you don't-", the elderly woman in the store tried to plead with him, but he wasn't having it.

"Shut up, you old bat! Just shut up! I'm thinkin' about it!"

Thinking about what? What could he possibly gain from killing you? You were a stranger to him- a nobody! Why in the world did he have the desire to do this?

"Please-"

"If you talk one more time, I'm going to shoot her and you-"

"How about you don't shoot anyone, and I let you leave with your dignity?"

That voice- you knew that voice. Oh- your heart practically sang with relief. He was here, he was going to save you- and maybe you'd finally be able to tell him what you so desperately needed to. It was so sad to know that it took all this but-

The gun moved from your head as the mans attention went to the hero that had just arrived. Shakily, you took the chance to try to move, crawling ever so slowly. If he was distracted long enough, you could get away and Peter could take him down before anyone could be hurt. Your side still ached a bit- but your flight response didn't allow you to feel much of it. You needed to escape- now.