FRIENDS WITH THE ENEMY (PART 2)

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by TIMTAMLUBBER

by TIMTAMLUBBER

THIS DOES NOT FOLLOW THE SAME PLOT AS FFH

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"Y/N?" He stutters out. "What are you doing?"

The silence that follows is deafening, as you keep your head down, avoiding eye contact. You can feel all eyes on you, as you try to hold back the tears welling up in your eyes. You hated this.

Your "father," was the first to talk. "Peter... Pete... Did you really think Y/N was in love with you? That she was even friends with you?" He states, followed by a loud malicious laugh. You hesitantly glance up at your fathers words. As your heart started surging. You could see Peter. His jaw ticked at your "father's" taunting. His once peachy skin, was now covered in cuts, bruises and blood. He glanced up at you, and for the first time you saw something else. A different emotion. Was it hate? Was it loathing? You looked back at your father, who was already looking at you.

"Why would she like you Peter? Your a nobody, a loser! Your an avenger, hey? All I see is a weakling!" Your "dad," advancing towards Peter. "Tell him, Y/N..." You refuse, instead being deeply engrossed on the rock next to your foot. "Tell him Y/N!" he repeats only louder this time.

Ignoring the lump in your throat and your eyes which are welling up with tears you look up at Peter. Your mouth feels as dry as sand paper, and for a minute it was like you had forgotten how to speak. "I n-never like you Peter. I was only u-using you. You mean n-nothing to me." You swallow the lump in your throat, as you take a step back, turning your head to the side, as you see Peter stumble, his body weak and exhausted.

"Y/N, you don't have to do this. I k-know your lying. It's going to be fine. Think about what's right..." He whispers out, barely audible, from the lack of strength.

You shake your head, blinking back tears. "I can't Pete. His my dad. And family always comes first." A chuckle can be heard behind you as Quentin walks forward.

"See Pete, you were only a pawn in our game. You were to weak, to vulnerable to ever realize. So much for an avenger. You couldn't keep anyone alive. Not even, Tony Stark."

You can see all the vulnerability in his eyes, as he slowly starts going back. Your eyes widen as he walks on top of the train tracks, without knowing. Your mouth opens, going to warn him about whats about to come, but it was already too late...

As the train speeds away into the distance, you hear the echoes of your fathers feet as he ambles away, and everything you were holding in comes out. Sob after sob, tear after tear. Why did you have to do this? What if Peter had died? It would have been all your fault. And now you had to live with it.

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You knew Peter/Spider-man was full of surprises. I mean, he had escaped death several times. But what you definitely didn't expect was to see him. Atop a building fighting your father. The chances of Peter winning was low. Peter, Peter was strong, but he was still a kid. And after everything that took place, you knew he would have been weak and vulnerable. And Mysterio, your father, well he was Strong. Manipulative. Powerful, and he had the technology.

Your minds was a blur of thoughts, what were you going to do? Mysterio, was family, he was blood. But Peter, Peter was your best friend. The love of your life. Someone you had only known for 2 and a half years, whereas, Mysterio had raised you since you were little. The one who taught you how to cook, how to achieve your goals. And that was when you realized what had to be done.

Placing your gun in your holster, you start scaling up the building. Praying that what was going to happen was the right thing.

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You bite your lip, hiding behind the corner, as the illusion disappears, Peter stands their victorious, unaware about the doom to follow. You get ready. Looking through the aim, waiting for the right moment, your finger hesitantly waiting above the trigger. Before you push it down.

You here the gut wrenching sound of the bullet piercing through flesh and cringe. Peter turns around his eyes wide, as he see Quentin stumbling to the floor. Blood spewing out from the small circular shape, where his lungs are. His eyes widen as he looks at you.

Your chest rising and falling heavily, as tears pour down your cheek. You bite you lip, hoping to stifle a sob, as your fathers gasps for air consume your ears. You stare at Peter, who also has tears in his eyes.

He walks up to you, wrapping his arms around your small fragile figure, his toned chest blocking your view of your dying father, preventing you from seeing him bleed out. He slowly whispered sweet nothings into your ear, as he rubbed your back soothingly. You had just shot your own father. You were the one who decided on it, aimed the gun and pulled the trigger. It was your fault he was dead.

But deep down, through the sounds of gasps for breath, you knew you had made the right decision, because family always came first. And the boy who could make you smile at your saddest, the boy who you walked home with everyday, the boy who you would spend hours talking about Star Wars, the boy you loved, was already family enough...

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WORD COUNT; 935