Scarlet Season

Apparently He Died

With Peter's face caked in blood and your clothes soaked in water, neither you nor Peter feel like going anywhere but home. The two of you decide to go to Peter's apartment for grilled cheese. 

"Are you sure your Aunt won't be mad at us for ditching?" you ask him for the fourth time. You're really paranoid that you're going to get in trouble. 

"We both understand what we're doing in our classes and it's only the beginning of the year. So to answer your question for the fourth time, no. My aunt isn't going to be mad. Plus, it's already 2:25, school gets out in like twenty minutes anyways." he says, laughing. 

"Okay fine, that's a good point." You say, as you fiddle with your bracelets. 

"Yeah, I know, so stop worrying!" He says. 

"Okay okay," you respond laughing. "What should we talk about then?" You ask him. 

"Let's talk about you," he quickly chimes back. 

"Um, okay. What do you want to know?" You ask, looking over at him. You notice that he's a good three inches taller than you. You've always been on the shorter end of the spectrum. 

"Hmm," he says as he thinks to himself. "What are the main reasons that you left your family in England?" He asks, looking over at you with his dark brown puppy dog eyes. 

"Oh, well for starters, I don't have much of a family. It's just me and my Mom. No dad, siblings, grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, none of it. Just me and my mom. Or well, except for one Uncle, but apparently he's a bad guy. I've never met him though." You say nonchalantly. 

"Wow, that's rough. I'm sorry for asking," Peter says as he looks shamefully down at his shoes. 

"Don't be," you say laughing. "Everyone has their own issues. I honestly don't really even know why I was raised in England, it's not like we have anyone there. I know for a fact that my dad didn't like the England, but it didn't matter because he was never there to see it. And well," you mumble as you scuff your shoes along the sidewalk, "Well, now he's definitely not because he um..." you pause, debating whether you should tell Peter about your father. Even though you know he's not dead, it's still hard to talk about him. 

Peter notices your sudden emotional change. "Hey you don't have to continue if you don't want," he says with a sympathetic smile. Why can't everyone be as kind and caring as him? 

"No it's okay. Apparently he died a few years back. My dad doesn't really have anything to do with us moving though, my mom just wanted to be back in the city," you say smiling, you've always liked New York. 

"I'm so sorry about your dad but, why did you say 'apparently he died?" Peter asks you with a confused tone. 

"I just," you pause and think of the best way to explain this to him. It doesn't make sense to most people. "I don't think he's actually dead. It doesn't really add up in my mind, what the police told us. All of their 'conclusions' sounded more like wistful guesses to me rather than facts; and they never found his body." You explain. 

Peter suddenly stops walking and looks directly at you, you stop walking too and look up at him. 

"What?" You ask. 

"Sorry to ask, but how does everyone think he died?" he asks with an intense look. 

"Uh, he was in Sokovia when it fell apart in 2016. The police assumed that he was crushed to death by a building when the land separated but, they never found his body so no one can prove that he's actually dead," you mumble, scuffing your shoes on the concrete. 

Peter stands frozen in his tracks with a distant look in his eye, you can practically see the gears turning in his head. 

"Have you or your mom heard from him since Sokovia fell apart?" he asks, the intense look in his eye not fading. 

"What?" you ask in an upset tone, you know exactly where this is going. You kick pebbles around on the ground. Peter asking this makes you upset because this is what everyone has always said before they try to convince you that your dad really is gone.

"Have you?" he practically demands. 

 "No, no we haven't. And if you're about to lecture me about why he actually is dead I don-"

"I believe you," he cuts you off. 

"What?" All of your attention is now focused on him. Those three words practically shock the life out of you, no one has ever believed you about this, but Peter does. 

"If his body was never found, there's still a chance that he's alive." he says, a soft look replaces the intense gaze in his eyes as he looks back down at you. You smile at Peter and impulsively pull him into a hug, he definitely wasn't expecting this. It takes him a few seconds to hug back, but he does. When you pull away you look down at your feet. 

"Why did you hug me?" he asks you, "not that I didn't like you hugging me, I mean, wait I- sorry. You know what I mean, right?" he stammers. 

You don't say anything for a moment, neither does Peter. 

"No one has ever believed me about this before. Everyone has always told me that I was in 'a stage of grief where I couldn't accept the truth'. The not so nice people would tell me that I was delusional because I had so much hope and so little evidence, but you believe me. I realize that it probably doesn't mean much to you, but it means so so much to me," you say as you meet Peter's eyes. 

After a moment you snap back into reality and break out of the fuzzy feeling in your stomach and start walking in the direction of the apartments again, Peter follows. You look over at him and he gives you a sad and sympathetic side smile. 

"I get it. I've lost a lot of important people throughout my life, including my parents so I, I know the pain of losing someone. If there's even the slightest chance that I can help you find your dad or just, I dunno, give you hope that you're not crazy, then that'll help me too." 

Hearing Peter say this causes you to tear up. No one, not even your mom has been this kind to you, not ever. Peter has barely known you for 7 hours and he's already become closer to you than anyone you've ever met. He's taken a beating for you, helped you have a decent day at school, and made you doubt yourself a little bit less. You know that you need to keep him close for as long as possible because, from what you have seen, there aren't many people in the world as pure and kind as Peter. 

"You're something else Peter Parker," you say after a minute. 

"I-is that a good thing?" he asks, not understanding what you mean. 

"Yes Peter," you respond laughing, "That's a good thing," 

"Okay," he replies, smiling. 

Not long after, the two of you reach the apartment building and climb six flights of stairs to Peter's apartment.