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'you know it's not the same as it was...'
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LIFE CAN BE ANYTHING but bliss. As God intended it to be, perhaps so a fair fight for all, but life was everything but.
You remember when you were happy. Cold, crisp sheets of blinding white that hovered over your head like a burning star thriving billions of miles away in the galaxy. It stared you down like prey on predator before sinking deep into your skin, the shape of your child-like body outlined by your new sleek, silky skin. You remember the frantic giggles that let slip from your chest as you tossed and thrashed, causing havoc and disruption to the peace that had once settled around you.
You remember back when everything seemed perfect when the world made just even the slightest bit of sense. Now it was as though yes there was a puzzle, and each piece fit perfectly. But they had been shrewd across the table in a burst of blinding anger, falling out of place and out of reach. Now you realize your puzzle may never have the chance to see completion.
A simple memory of being a child lying in crisp white bed sheets had lulled you off to sleep at Peter's bedside. Everything was changing, the taste in your mouth had turned sour and your tongue had fallen rough against your gums from hours of grinding your teeth against it in angst and anticipation. Being patient had never been one of your strong suits. You were always the fidget, the one who could never sit still, thumb twiddler, hair chewer. Nothing could keep you satisfied enough to stay still even for the shortest of moments. Seconds had felt like hours.
But now, in your adult life, you found yourself falling back into those moments when all hope seemed to have flown across the pond waving goodbye with one angelic hand and flipping you off with the other, laughing at your misery as you stared into the abyss. Remembering what it was like when all you had to worry about was passing the time.
All had seemed lost for those moments. As you raced the ticking clock, challenging it daringly as you paced in the hallways. You counted the cans in the vending machine twice every hour, re-starting each time one disappeared among purchases. You tested out almost every chair in the small room you had been acquainted with and narrowed your eyes on the fallen body that lay in the same room with you. You weren't sure if you could ever bear to look at him in this state.
Lying in the same clothes that he'd been wearing that evening, the stench of rainwater still soaked into the fabric. You bit your lip every time you saw his breathing halter and stutter. For a while you dreaded even coming close, fearing if you took so much as one step too close to his bedside he might implode. As if, in some way, you blamed yourself for what had happened to Peter.
Alcohol poisoning.
The quiet that had fallen between you during those few days apart.
The silence. It hadn't fallen on deaf ears.
Despite all, even you could deny sleep when it called your name. As you lay your head down on the pitiful surface the hospital dared call a mattress, it was as though for a moment you found a glimpse of peace.
His smell kept you ticking. Even though the gates to heaven were before you with heavy eyes and shallow breathing, sleep was calling out to you so desperately you thought you might scream with desperation, pleading it to shut the fuck up and butt out for just five goddamn minutes. But he was there. Breathing and alive and knowing that maybe in some way you could have prevented this...
It wasn't the only thing that kept you awake.
Albeit comfortable lying by his bedside, the sudden jolt of a hand that propelled against your forehead, smacking you hard and strong startled you suddenly. Your heart leaped from the guardian of your chest, pounding solid and rough as you shot up in your seat, eyes glaring wide. With blurry eyes and a now-pounding headache, you straightened yourself out, ready to pound down on the accuser of your pain until you realized what had happened.
Panic is a killer. The sudden sheer suffocation of misunderstanding and fear that shreds through every ounce of your being the moment you open your eyes. That was Peter Parker, and it wasn't the Peter Parker you knew. Once so brave and noble, who wouldn't turn his nose up to any sign of fear nor danger, was now bloodshot-eyed, wider than a deer in the headlights, chest heaving with heavy breaths as his mind ran haywire.
His blood ran cold as he shuffled in the sheets, trying so desperately to fight his natural instinct; to scream, blurt out question after question, confused and dazed, startled to find himself sitting in a hospital bed... but speaking wasn't an option. It was as though his own lips had betrayed him, paralyzed by his mind running away with him.
You remained calm in his moment of despair. It was as though that terrified little child that wallowed deep within him was finally coming up for breath, finding the leverage to breathe as he cast through the seal of open water. He was showing his true, natural colors of fear and desperation, confusion and panic, and in the most brutal of ways it was almost... beautiful.
"Peter, you're alright-"
"Where am I?" Finally, a string of words he'd managed to piece together fell into the open air surrounding you. The room suddenly became all too quiet. How did you explain how this had all come to be? How do you relive those moments on the sidewalk, the rain beating down on the crown of your head as you watched a woman pummel her fingers down the back of his throat? How did you explain the helplessness that swarmed you when you realized there was nothing you could do at that moment to save him? "Are we in a hospital?"
His question left you stunned for a moment, a shivering ache running through your fingers as you stared at him, brows shrunken into a pitiful gaze, "Yes-"
"You gotta get me out of here," he panted softly, hands reaching for the machines at his bedside, head thrashing side to side as he looked at you for help, "Please, we need to go."
Instinct kicked in as you watched him struggle, reaching out to hold his hand in a sudden act of comfort. The feelings you felt before; the hurt, the betrayal, they still floated on the surface. But now there was a boat crashing in carrying the feelings of sorrow and mourning, "Peter, you need to calm down."
"D-Did they take any blood samples?" his voice quivered with fear, and it had taken your mind longer than expected to click into action, but suddenly the penny dropped.
"No," you responded confidently, keeping your voice low and steady. You understood his fear and knew you needed to be the adult in this situation. You had to be the float keeping that little boy inside from drowning.
"Please tell me they didn't take anything, b-blood samples, did they do any tests?"
"Peter," you ushered him softly, tensing the grip you had around his hand, "you're secret remains a secret, you need to relax, just take a deep breath for me, okay?"
Your words had indeed, this time, fallen on deaf ears. The once strong, somewhat confident man that sat before you had evaporated into the air around you, now sitting in his place was a ghost that merely resembled every emotion he feared the most. He tossed lightly, hands reaching for the dents in his arms.
"Peter, no," your tone grew sharp, a hint of warning thread between the lines as you reached over to grasp his hands from pulling at the needles that were feeding him pain killer.
"Please!" He begged. His sudden words and the tone that followed had stunned you. Pure anxiety. Fear. True, blood curdling emotions rinsed in desperation. His eyes had welled with tears, lip quivering. He was dazed with confusion, frightened under the bright light of your gaze as you looked down upon him with pity.
"Peter," calm and collected you remained sane, lowering your tone as much as you could to keep his subtle breakdown at bay, "you are safe. You are alright. You need to listen to me."
For a moment he quivered, like a live bomb you feared if you moved too quickly he might detonate. But in a quick lapse of judgement, it was as though he came to his senses. A switch flicked and suddenly he was home again. The pools of your eyes become rivers of fresh, clear water that he felt he could sink into with no fear. The hands that held him at bay felt soft and warm, as though his senses has finally turned on, he was feeling everything as if for the first time.
He was listening loud and clear, eyes scanning up and down your face. Eyes, nose, mouth... lips. Eyes, brows, nose, lips, cheeks. Eyes, nose, lips... lips.
Swallowing softly, he nodded in contentment.
"You're alright," you mumbled quietly as you lowered your stance to sit at his bedside, the mattress sinking beneath your weight, his eyes never once leaving yours.
"What happened?" He conquered the nerves and lump in his throat finally managing to speak in a clear, strong tone. It puzzled you that he was so disengaged from the events that had happened over the last couple of days. Clearly there was something wrong, pages of the book missing.
"I... Pete, I kinda thought you were gonna fill in the blanks for me," you tilted your head slightly, trying to sound as innocent as you could as to not make him feel any more guilty for not being able to piece together the pages, "do you not remember anything?"
He sat for a moment. Eyes scanning up and down your face as if hoping to find answers in your features, but there was nothing.
"I wanna go home."
"... we can't go home yet, Pete-"
"Please." He said sternly, "I feel fine. Please. Please, Y/N. Take me home."
Much to your dismay, there wasn't much arguing you could do. As much as you pleased with the nurses to run more tests and find out what could be causing all this brain fog, they confided you with the somewhat comforting knowledge that it was purely a 'common side effect of a handover as heavy as this one'. As much as it soothed some aching nerves, you still didn't want him out of reach of intervenors antibiotics.
The ride home was short and quiet, and it wasn't long before you were making your way through the doors to your apartment complex. The lobby was quiet and your footsteps echoed through the halls as you ventured within the walls. You'd made short and sweet conversation, but Peter didn't seem to be in a very talkative mood, so you kept quiet for the time being.
All the while you watched him. The colour in his cheeks remained drained and the bags under his eyes were heavy as sacks of coal. He looked sick, and it pained you to see. You knew he'd be healed in no time with his genetically modified super powers, but even that didn't seem to put your aching mind at rest. You watched him like a toddler taking their first steps as you climbed the stairs, hands darting outwards to hover around his frame each time he misjudged the distance of a step.
"Quit mothering me," he mumbled softly as you reached the top of the stairs, "it should be me protecting you, not the other way around," there was a smile on his face as he spoke, one that you seemed to not have seen in so long, yet his words meant business as if to be speaking out on deep insecurities.
"That's what I'm here for," you spoke back, taking his arm gently and guiding him down the hallway. Your apartments weren't far, and it wasn't long before you were feeling lost against as you tied at the parting of your separate doorways.
You each stood there for a fleeting moment, and all of a sudden it was awkward.
"Do you uh... do you want some company?" You asked, feeling like the question was loaded even though it had never intended to be. The pause before the answer was reliant enough as to what Peter was going to say.
"I think... I think I just need to be alone right now... my head... it's all-"
"I understand," you jumped in, yes understanding where he was coming from, but also not wanting to be openly rejected by someone you were helplessly falling for. How had you come to this? Star cross lovers, you being the only thing he craved to now... him needing space.
"Thank you... for everything, a-and I'm really sorry about everything that happened," he turned to look at you and you could see the genuine sorrow in his gaze, "I just... I need to figure some things out..."
"I understand," you spoke again, loosening your grip around his frame. You stood in the empty hallways, watching as the boy you loved slowly slipped out of sight, disappearing behind his apartment door. Suddenly it fell silent, and the thoughts in your head became all too clear. You thought back to those moments when truly all you ever had to worry about was passing the time...
You didn't know where this left you. You were standing on an uncharted map with no where to go. Usually you knew every shortcut, every alley way and every direction but now... you were stranded. You didn't want to cry, but the tears that brimmed on your lower lash line had come fighting. Standing staring at his doorframe knowing there was a line you dared not cross. For everything that was once was felt as though it was beginning to slip away...
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Hi there, remember me? Hasn't it been a while. I'm sorry for the lapse in updates, my life has been pretty crazy, aside from the almost dying of kidney failure and all 😇 I can't say expect fluent updates right now as I'm working around a busy schedule, but Christmas is rolling around the corner and suddenly my love for writing has come flooding back in, I've missed it, I've missed you guys. I hope this chapter finds you well and know that the next one should come along shortly... hopefully this time it won't take a year 💀 love you all!