Peter Parker Imagines

Five In The Morning [Female!Reader] LTM PT.2

Just imagine..

If you could, would you go back in time and change it all? Of course.

However, life is all about balance. The Universe thrives on it. In that war, someone was meant to die. Some poor soul, was meant to leave the land of the living and move on. The Universe knew this, but none of her creations did. In order for this war to be solved, Death needed a good amount of souls from people of all ages. Knowing this, would you still change things? Would you trade his for anothers?

Maybe you're thinking yes- or maybe not. Maybe now that you know, you wouldn't be able to make such a sacrifice. You know the pain of losing your love- of having your soul ripped from you and your heart torn to bits. The damage was irreversible- even if you refused to acknowledge it. No matter how many lies you ate up, you were still empty. You still ached for him, yearned for the sweet boy you needed- but what if it was a lie? What if he was found buried underneath the battle grounds and not by Tony, struggling to claw his way out to you? He promised he wouldn't leave you.

He swore to come back. He never breaks a promise.

Of course, he never voiced such promises, but you could see it in his eyes. The last thing Peter Parker ever wanted to do was leave you. Especially in such a heartbreaking way. You didn't deserve it- no one did. He was determined to come home to you, to run back into your arms and to see May again. You both were all he thought about. Ned and MJ too, of course, but you two the most. May had already lost so much, she couldn't afford to lose more. So he fought with all he had. He put all of his strength into ever kick and punch, put forth every ounce of brain power he had into keeping himself in check and breathing. He had to come home.

He was coming home.

The news of you and May believing him to be dead caused him to run even more. He didn't want any check up. No help with healing- no therapy to help with what he'd done and seen, not now. He needed his two favorite girls. He needed the woman who raised him and made him to be the man he is- the man who survived a war. He needed the girl who stood by his side through it all, the one who loved him even when he made a fool for himself. The girl who claimed to love him even more when he did, because he was fully being himself.

He had to find you both, he had to set it all right. He came home to you- he was back, just like he said he would be.

Every galaxy ever known to man may as well have collided when he found you at last. He found May first, holding her sobbing body to his while he assured her he'd never do something so stupid and reckless again. He told her he knew that she didn't give a damn about the rest of the world because he was her world. He was her boy, and nothing on this god-forsaken earth could ever change such a thing. Nothing would ever sever that bond, not even death. He was May's in a way that no one else could have, and sometimes he swears he can feel his Mother smiling down upon him. She'd have no one else for him, since she can't be for him herself, and that was a pure fact.

You had him as well- oh you did. You had his body, mind and soul. All of him was for you, and you loved to imagine that he was perfectly crafted for you and you him. So when you saw him- when you flicked the lights on in your bedroom and saw a sight you never thought you'd see again, you fell. You came crashing down to your knees, eyes already blurred by the time the carpet made contact with your skin. The lies you kept yourself steady on vanished, they refused to keep you sane any longer, not when he was here to do so himself. He was here- he was breathing, alive.

You didn't need lies anymore.

He made his way to you, pulling your shaking body to his after he fell to the floor with you. He was trembling, completely aching from the knowledge that he played a part in the way you were sobbing. You gripped him so tightly, pulled him in so close, petrified that he'd vanish and you'd go back to surviving without him. It wasn't living, it was pure survival. Doing the bare minimum to get by so your friends and family wouldn't have to worry. Your job had to believe you were mentally stable. The only person allowed to know of your true state was May, and it was because she'd been on the same low level as you. Surviving. Not even the very source of your lies was really allowed to know, but he knew regardless. He was on an even lower level than you. The guilt weighed more than the grief, and so he'd sunk lower than you. He'd always been sinking, but the loss of Peter had broken it all.

No one had to sink now though. You could all rejoice- he was alive. He was warm and welcoming, holding your quaking body in his strong yet still trembling grasp. His arms engulfed you, hands rubbing up and down the sides of your arms. You could smell his cologne, the one that had long faded from your sheets and pillows. It filled up your lungs and kept you grounded into this moment. It was all you'd been screaming for. This moment was all you craved when you cried until you couldn't feel a damn thing anymore. His whispered words of comfort were like having your every last hope answered. His voice wasn't a figment of your imagination. It wasn't crackly from being played through the speaker of your phone- from an old voicemail of him apologizing for missing a small date. It was here, it was right in your ear.

His touch wasn't ghost of a memory and his lips- oh his lips. They were still as warm as ever. They were chapped of course- chapped and slightly tasting of dirt and possibly death. Remnants of what he'd escaped from, despite doing his best to fully cleanse his body. It didn't matter to you. He was here, he was kissing you like he was starved for affection. He was telling you how much he loved you in between every gasped breath.

Touching you- holding you and completely melting in to you. Right there on your bedroom floor. You both became one and neither of you wanted to separate from one another ever again.

Not ever not ever not ever not ever-

You awoke to almost complete darkness. Dim streetlights made their way through the blinds of your bedroom window. They allowed you some form of sight. You didn't pay mind to the fact that you were still in your work clothes or that your floor was almost entirely bare. None of that mattered.

Peter mattered- where was Peter?

You felt around your bed, it was empty and achingly cold. No. Your hands continued their search, growing frantic when they continued to find nothing. No trace. He wouldn't leave- not for one second. Where did he go?

Your phone clattered to life on your nightstand. It buzzed against the wood and it's light about blinded you. The name that appeared on the screen made your stomach drop.

"Hello?"

"[Y/n]..", he said, voice careful as he waited on a response. He had to be sure you were fully awake.

"Yes? What is it- why are you calling me?"

There was a pause. A long, deafening pause. "I-I can't do this anymore.. I can't- it's not healthy for you."

The hand holding your phone up to your ear trembled, "Do what?"

"Lie to you. I can't do it anymore- I'm sorry. It's hurting you more than it's helping you- it's a sick game-"

"Lie to me about what?" No no no no

A shaky sigh is heard on the other end, and you can't even prep yourself for what comes next, "[Y/n], you know he's not coming home. You saw them bury him. Everyones worried about..."

The voice faded from your ears. The words fell upon no one, not a single soul was listening. Your eyes simply fell to the digital clock beside your bed. Five in the morning, right on the dot. Reality crashed down on you hard- quicker than your phone falling from your shaky hands. The lies vanished once more, but this time he wasn't here to pull you out of those dark waters.

You were drowning. Coughing- sputtering- your chest absolutely burned. It all hurt so much, but every ounce of fight in you was gone. Grief is such a paralyzing thing.

Your sobs were too violent to even allow you to scream- it was a miracle you even got any oxygen into you.

You broke.

Somewhere- way up high in the stars of the Universe, a torn soul was tearing more. He watched but spoke no words. He'd begged his throat raw- if such a thing was possible. The Universe would not hear him. Death did not care- and Fate decided to be cruel with her dreams..

"I'm so sorry..", the voice over the phone said, but still, not a soul heard him.

"I ᴅʀᴇᴀᴍᴛ ᴏғ ʏᴏᴜ ʟᴀꜱᴛ ɴɪɢʜᴛ. Wᴏᴋᴇ ᴜᴘ ᴄʀʏɪɴɢ, ᴛʜᴀᴛ'ꜱ ᴀʟʀɪɢʜᴛ, ʙᴇᴄᴀᴜꜱᴇ ᴍʏ ᴅᴇᴀʀ, ᴀᴛ ʟᴇᴀꜱᴛ I ғᴇʟᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴇʀᴇ. Aᴡᴀᴋᴇ 'ᴛɪʟʟ ғɪᴠᴇ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏʀɴɪɴɢ, I ᴀᴍ ᴍᴏᴜʀɴɪɴɢ. ᴀʟʟ I'ᴠᴇ ʟᴏᴠᴇᴅ ʜᴀꜱ ʟᴇғᴛ.."