Peter's eyes watch as his feet walk across the tiled floor of the tower, hearing the quiet sound of a TV playing from somewhere down the hallway, likely still playing from someone falling asleep and not making it to their room. He still knows this tower like the back of his hand, having spent so much time here and living here half the time. While, it's a little awkward and a little scary to be here, not quite feeling like he belongs anymore, there is almost this sense of comfort as he walks alone.
As far as he knows, no one is awake, or at least, awake and near him. It's been about three maybe four hours since he last saw Shiloh, since he last saw anyone besides Bruce and it's reaching half-past three now so of course, everyone should be asleep. Clint and Tony might be awake, the only ones awake somewhere but Clint's probably awake in his own room with Nat or he might be the one in the approaching living room and Tony would be down in the labs, working on new tech or trying to find a way to stabilize the extremis. But, here, walking through the halls, it's just Peter. It brings him back to nights when he'd sneak into Shiloh's room late at night.
The sneaking really became unnecessary as they got older as they didn't actually have a time for "lights out" anymore but it never stopped Peter from climbing the walls and crawling on the ceiling to avoid making noise and being seen just to get to her room. It always made her laugh and maybe that's why he always did it. From kids to college students, it just always made her laugh and after she was attacked by Doc Ock, it was one of the only things that really got her to laugh for awhile, especially in Peter's presence. But, either way, when Peter would get to her room, all they ever did was talk or turn on a movie, sharing a bag of gummy worms. Sometimes a little bit of tradition and routine is good, safe for memories
But, tonight isn't like those other nights. It's not Peter crawling on walls and the ceiling to split a bag of gummy candy. It's not getting caught by Tony who just questions why Peter was crawling on the ceiling when he could just walk. It's a night of hopeless steps with tired eyes and aching bones, heart in his stomach and broken trust. Tonight, is a whole new night of Peter walking down the hallway and catching a glimpse of Shiloh on the couch as he reaches the living room, her eyes on the screen, blue light illuminating her face.
He pauses, stops in his tracks as he sees her and he should probably keep walking to sleep off the night. She probably wants nothing to do with him anyway, not tonight. And it's late and he's had a hard day between getting shot and having to fight off the skeleton in his head. He's exhausted but Shiloh's still awake and that just doesn't seem right. But, the last he talked to her, she didn't trust him and it didn't go well so why would she want him around right now?
Maybe he shouldn't have stopped, should've just kept walking, pretend like he didn't see her. But seeing her awake at this hour, not in a lab or her room, it's a reflex for him to stop. After all of this time, it's still a reflex. If anyone deserves proper sleep, especially after tonight, it's Shiloh. But, despite Peter wanting to ask why she's still awake, this is her time so Peter starts walking, keeping his steps quiet but as he starts walking past, Shiloh catches sight of him, eyes flicking in his direction.
Shiloh's brows furrow as she sees him in the dark, black shorts cutting at the knee of the prosthetic and white shirt barely reflecting the backlight of the TV. "Hey? Peter?" Shiloh calls and Peter stops again, turning to face her with a nervous huff.
"Um....hey?" Peter bites his lip, his eyes look to the side before going to her.
"What're you doing?" Shiloh asks, pausing her TV. "It's late."
"Yeah..." He glances to the floor with a shallow breath. "B-banner, he uh, he just got done with some tests." Peter looks back to her, scars a pale blue from the light of the TV reflecting off of her face. "What're you doing awake?"
Shiloh fidgets in her seat and how is she supposed to tell him that despite what she said earlier, she's only awake in this living room to see him. She knows his room is right down the hall and that he'd have to bypass this living room in order to get there. How is she supposed to tell him that she can't sleep without knowing he's okay?
"Couldn't sleep." Shiloh shrugs, words nonchalant.
Peter nods softly before he furrows his brows and takes one step back. "I-I'm sorry." Peter swallows thickly and Shiloh opens her mouth but Peter keeps talking. "For....everything. And that you can't sleep but for everything," Peter lets out a breath and whispers. "Today." His hands move in front of him, fingers of his right hand picking at the calluses of his left hand.
"I know." Shiloh's voice candid but her eyes fill touches of sorrow, still torn on the events and just wanting him.
She's in a war with herself over it. She could have died and it would have been his fault but he's so far underwater that he's just dragging people down with him and it's not even his fault. It's just a reflex, involuntary, it happens and if he were better, if he got better it'd all be fine but he's not. So, she just keeps going back and forth with being hurt and pissed and scared.
And there's a horrible silence that surrounds the two of them, almost like it's wanting to swallow them whole. And Peter's thoughts are running around, back and forth, screaming to start talking, spill everything that's running through his head. He already talks when he's nervous but he has so much to say and she's barely even looking at him and she can't sleep and he's so sorry for everything. And she has to know that.
Peter moves forward a little, his words rushing out. "I never was gonna leave you, I promise. I-I-I-I...I was gonna just....sit on top of a roof and make sure you were okay. I never would have let them do anything to you.....I wouldn't do that to you." Peter's voice is a bit frantic like he knows that's what's got Shiloh awake, like he knows exactly what she's thinking without her having to tell him but maybe that's because it's eating him up just as much as it's eating at her or maybe it's the history between them, maybe it's both.
Shiloh chews on her lip, hands fiddling with the blanket over her lap. He's broken. Broken and fragile and he just can't watch anyone else get hurt and he can't do the hero thing. It's too much and if anyone understands, understands what he's trying to do, it's her. In some backwards logic kind of way, maybe she would have tried something similar. It's not as forgivable as other things, but hearing that Peter never planned to leave her in the frantic voice that begs and pleads for her to believe him, she knows he's not lying. He regrets it.
He's making an effort, give him a little slack.
"You wanna come sit?" Shiloh offers, her eyes dating to the spot beside her.
Peter's eyes widen and he wants to run away as he usually does - too close, too much, too fast - but his feet don't turn him around. His head says run but his heart says move forward. And for once, Peter's body listens to his heart. His feet move forward. She's that light at the end of the tunnel and while the darkness is calming and comfortable, familiar, the light she holds is so warm and beautiful that Peter just needs to move forward.
Shiloh offers him a tender smile, moving over and lending him some of her blanket while he takes a seat. He pulls his left leg up and under his right thigh, trying to get himself comfortable as his eyes go to the TV and see that she's got Black Mirror on. And silence consumes them as Shiloh turns the TV back on.
They both watch and listen but neither of them are fully paying attention to what's happening. They're both lost in their heads, thousands of questions and apologies wanting to sputter out with every passing second. It's just been so long and all of this maybe could have been prevented. Maybe if one tried harder sooner or if one took the blame one more time rather than the other, maybe none of this would have happened. Maybe it's all just one big mistake of the both of them.
"Why do you do it?" Shiloh breaks the silence, unable to stand the stiffness of the air between her and Peter."You know....the crime. You never stood by it before and now it's all you do." She continued, looking at Peter through the corner of her eye.
"I dunno." Peter huffs, head hanging. "I...I thought maybe it was....easier I guess. If-if I do this, uh, maybe you won't want to be around me and then....you won't, um, you won't end up like Flash or MJ or May." Peter swallows thickly, feeling his chest tighten with his words. "It's all my fault, everything. I-I thought maybe if you hated me, you'd be safe."
Peter's head remains hung with his fragile words. Everyone would be safer not around Peter. That's what it always comes down to and he just can't lose her, too. It doesn't matter how many times he repeats it to himself, it just needs to be repeated. He needs to remind himself what she means to him and how he couldn't handle it. If she died, he would literally go out of his freaking mind and if she died because of him...
Shiloh turns and faces him without a thought, her legs crossing. "Peter, I could never hate you. Ever. I care about you, Pete." Her eyes search his with her breathy words.
Peter's eyes flicker around to Shiloh. He looks over her, starting from where her hands lay clasped in her lap, making their way up to her torso. She's wearing a tank top and it almost accentuates the pale scars on her shoulders. Her chest moves up and down with every breath, the blood on her neck gone, no longer a reminder of the night's events. And Peter's eyes finally reach her face, the scars just seem too bright tonight and it's probably just the blue light from the TV or maybe it's Peter just focusing too much on them. He notices every crevice that seems to fade off from the long and deeper scars, he notices where Doc Ock's claw dug into her face and caused the most damage. That area a paler shade and visibly more rigid from the tear of flesh. And it all just burns. It burns every part of Peter's body as he looks at her. How can she not hate him for that?
Shiloh watches his eyes and suddenly, she's very aware of her scars again. She's put in that position Peter's been in all night, having to show his back to her and his leg to Bruce. Exposure and vulnerability. But, she pushes her own insecurities away and lets her heart ache for him, wanting to lift that blame and guilt off of him because he doesn't deserve it. He doesn't deserve any of this. None of this could ever be his fault. That isn't Peter. Even when he tries to be some form of a criminal, it's still not him.
"None of this is your fault." Peter pulls his eyes away from the scars and his eyes meet hers. "That?" Shiloh gestures a finger around herself. "That's on Doc Ock. That's his fault, not yours. You needed to protect to MJ. Not me, I can handle myself and I think we both know that damn well. He should have gone after MJ but he didn't as spite and arrogance. I don't blame you." Shiloh moves a little closer to him, her voice a type of gentle plea. "I had to be in recovery for months and you were there the whole time. I never blamed you, not for a second. I know...." Shiloh pauses and it's her that starts to get consumed with guilt. "I know I said it was your fault before, when it happened and I know I apologized for it later but...I don't think I ever told you I didn't blame you. And Pete, I am so sorry." Shiloh swallows the lump in her throat with her words.
Just like Peter, Shiloh needed someone to blame when things got rough. Scarred and beaten and bloody and bruised. Broken. She needed someone to blame and who better than Peter Parker. Her best friend who chose his girlfriend over her. It was shallow. A low-blow. And she knew that, a fire burning in the pit of her stomach whenever she said she blamed Peter but she was just angry at the situation, she couldn't help it.
Depression hit with having to be laid up in bed and going to physical therapy, giving up lab time and school and cheerleading. And body image issues surfaced from the wounds that would scar after multiple surgeries. It never was about Peter, it was about her not being able to cope properly and yet Peter never left because he knew that. He knew it wasn't about him.
Shiloh had taken out her problems on Peter for months but the initial blow of blame came in the first week, after that it was mostly just her bad days. Not that that's an excuse but like she said, she did apologize for blaming him. It was just her bad days that got her, the bad days where she couldn't see the light of her own mind. And Peter got that. He let her blame him when she was bad and he was there for her like he always was on her good days. Friends with a shared bag of gummy worms.
"I know you didn't." Peter says quietly. "You should have though." His eyes are back on her scars and he wants to reach out and run his hands over them, something to just solidify his words but he can't. That's just too much. Too heavy. "I should have saved you." His head tilts to the left, brows knitting together while his mouth purses.
"You did." Shiloh lets out a breath, a sad smile twitching onto her face. "Peter, I'm alive because you did save me. You showed up. So, what I have scars. So, do you. So, does my dad. That's just a thing that happens."
Peter nods and lets himself face the TV again. She is right even if it's hard for Peter to accept. He did swing in and he defeated Doc Ock, got her to a hospital in time, he did save her. The scars she sustained from Doc Ock grabbing her would have happened no matter what Peter would have done. The point is that he saved her. That's what matters and Shiloh just needs him to know that and maybe if it weren't for everything else that's happened, maybe he would have never second-guessed it. She just wants him to stop beating himself up so she moves closer, closing the distance between them, her knees touching his left leg, her torso still facing him.
Peter turns his torso towards her, his leg on fire with her barely touching him and they're so close again. His breath hitches in his throat and he has this love/hate relationship with this close proximity. She's warm and comfortable and she just makes everything cold and dark melt and hide. She keeps him calm without even trying. Her being only a few inches from his face is enough to get him nervous but get the self-hatred and blame to ease, enough for his head to be a little clearer. The chaos calms with her bright eyes looking at him. She's a type of clarity and Peter doesn't really know how or why she does it and it might scare him to no end but maybe that's okay. It's okay to be scared.
"Can I ask you something?" Shiloh asks in a hushed whisper. Peter nods, not wanting to speak, afraid of what his voice might sound like. "Why didn't you tell anyone you were clean?" It's eaten at her since Bruce told her and it's after four in the morning. All bits of rational thinking have gone out the window.
Peter closes his eyes for a second before they meet with hers, a mist almost forming over them, his chin wrinkling slightly. "No one ever asked." The fragile and hollow tone shatters every part of Shiloh's heart.
She should have asked. Every part of her body is bellowing and hollering at her, berating her because she should have fucking asked. All Shiloh had to do was ask Peter. That's what friends do, right? They make sure their friends are clean. They make sure they're alright and Shiloh didn't do that, not in that way. And yeah, maybe it's because after a few years of having to watch Peter high out of his mind, it became harder and harder for her to watch and witness but she could have asked him. Someone could have asked him.
"I'm so sorry." Shiloh croaked. "I...I should have asked. I'm sorry." Peter nods because he gets it. He doesn't blame her for it. He wouldn't have asked either. Shiloh leans forward and her hands move to his face slowly, Peter's breath stopping in his throat with the contact. Her thumbs run over his cheeks and her eyes are so distressed and devastated, it's enough to make Peter look away from her but not enough to pull away. "How long?"
"Since May died." Peter whispers, looking back to her. "I...uh, I quit the day after because if I wasn't high.....I could have gotten there in time. Guess my-my healing factor was still....working so I didn't have any of the serious withdrawal symptoms." Peter explains, tears starting to fill the rims of his eyes.
"Peter, I'm so sorry." Shiloh whispers and Peter's chin wrinkles in response while he places his hands on her wrists.
His hands wrap around her small wrists, pulling her hands away from his face, needing something more because he's about to fall apart. "I-I-I-I just miss her, Shi." Peter's voice breaks as tears start to fall down his cheeks.
"Pete--"
"I...I just really miss her and MJ and I...." Peter sobs and makes the first move with hot and salty tears streaming down his cheeks.
He leans forward, his forehead falling onto Shiloh's shoulder and she doesn't even take one second to think before her arms come around his body, pulling him into her as much as she can. And with that comforting hug, Peter's hands reach to her sides and grip her shirt, something to help ground him. His body shakes with every sob that leaves his lips and Shiloh finds herself biting her tongue and looking to the ceiling, trying to hold back her own tears from falling, begging everyone who might be out there, the universe, something, for a break.
Make it all stop. Just give Peter a break. Let him breathe, for everything that might be good, let him breathe because despite everything, Peter is good and he deserves better.
Everything is so broken and how broken can things get before they're simply not fixable anymore? Things can only be broken so much before there are pieces missing and it's impossible to put back together whole, like the way it was before. And Shiloh's biggest fear is that that's what's happening with Peter.
He's missing all of these pieces and he needs help to try and find them, put them back together and glue them in the right places but what if they're just too gone? They're disintegrated from the weight of the guilt and blame from everything else that's happened to him? Can he get new pieces to fill those spots? Because he deserves to be okay and to be healed and glued back together with indestructible glue.
He is one of the good ones. Let him be okay again,
Peter's sobs start to subside with Shiloh's hand running up and down his back, her head leaning against his. And his tears slow until there's no more left and his heart pounds and aches with every beat and his eyes are puffy and burn. He misses May and MJ and he misses being himself. He wants himself back again. He wants Shiloh back, he just wants his damn life back again.
"Shi?" Peter picks his head up, tear-stained cheeks meeting Shiloh's gaze before he rubs his eyes. "Um...is...is it okay if I stay...in here until you go to bed?" He asks with a croaky voice, desperation in every word. I can't be alone tonight.
"Yeah," Shiloh nods with a fragile and small smile, one hand pushing Peter's messy hair away from his face. "Of course, you can, Pete."
Truthfully, she's pretty tired but hell, she doesn't plan on moving even a little bit if it'll give Peter some type of comfort. She will stay up for the next three days if that's what it takes. She can sleep when she's dead.
So, the two of them resituate, sitting leg to leg and Shiloh offers Peter her hand, not wanting to really overstep but still wanting to offer him something and her hand worked on the way here, so maybe holding his hand now will help. And he interlocks her fingers, this time with no hesitation and grants her a smile, one that only she could tell was a smile with the faintness of it but it's enough. And soon enough, they're sat in a comfortable silence with the TV playing, Shiloh's thumb rubbing soft circles over the top of Peter's hand, Peter slowly falling into the same rhythm against hers.
The episode plays on and Peter's heart doesn't ache as bad as it has over the past two years. It's like it's a little easier to breathe, like he's not completely drowning anymore. He can gasp a little and his head feels a little lighter. It just feels a little bit better, just enough to give him hope that this isn't completely impossible. And he is so thankful for this, for Shiloh who's nodding off beside him, her head starting to fall onto his shoulder and he doesn't have it in him to leave her yet. She makes him feel something good. Something warm that doesn't burn like sulfuric acid. She makes him a type of whole again and it's a little selfish but he doesn't want to go yet. She keeps him calm.
"Shi?" Peter calls and Shiloh jerks back to reality, looking up to him with hooded eyes and raised brows.
"I'm just....I'm getting a little tired." Peter sucks in a nervous breath. "C-can we lay down....please?"
Shiloh's eyes widen as much as they can in her tired state, almost thinking she didn't hear him right but hoping she did. "Yeah, sure." Shiloh gives him a gentle smile, moving to the other end of the couch so Peter can lay down and get comfortable and there's this space between him and the edge of the couch, like he's waiting for her to join him and he did say "we".
We is an invitation but he could have meant in general like the two of them on either side of the couch, how they usually fell asleep if they fell asleep in any of the living rooms. Maybe that's what he meant but maybe Shiloh should test the waters. He's looking at her and it's like he wants to ask her to lay with him but he doesn't know how. Like maybe he just can't bring himself to say the words. And he said we so Shiloh decides to ask instead of putting pressure on just moving.
"Can I lay with you?" Shiloh asks, voice a little shaky with nerves as she asks. "You're just really warm." A blush creeps onto her face. "I get cold." Her eyes are on Peter's, a blush creeps onto his cheeks as well, nodding and almost completely through the roof she asked because he did not have it in him to specify he wanted her to lay with him.
Shiloh moves over to him and she makes herself comfortable with Peter's arm wrapping around her shoulder, one of her arms moving over his torso and her leg just barely laying on top of his, careful not to move it too close to the metal one. And it's like they both can just exhale with the position, wrapped in each other under a blanket in the middle of the night. Like they're both fully safe right here and right now, just the two of them against the world. How it used to be.
And Shiloh's hand holds onto the loose fabric of his old t-shirt while she listens to his heartbeat, wondering if that's what Peter hears all the time with everyone. A constant string of thunder, some different from others. If so, she understands a little why he'd always be listening to hers because this, this is one of the most calming things she's ever listened to. Hearing his heartbeat as confirmation he's alive. He's breathing under her and it's like the most beautiful melody she's ever heard and she never wants it to stop.
Peter's rubbing soft circles over her exposed shoulder, careful not to touch the scar, every now and again looking over to make sure he hasn't touched it before his attention goes back to the TV. And there's something comforting with doing it, just having her lay on him and his fingers just moving along her skin. It's been ages since he's had contact with someone, like this, and he's happy. For the first time since he doesn't know when, he feels happy. And Peter is so happy this is with her.
"You can touch it if you want." Shiloh whispers, her eyes barely open on the screen as she feels Peter look down to her. "The scar, I don't care. Doesn't hurt." The words are slightly slurred as they leave her lips, making Peter's heart swell.
In another world, maybe he would have kissed the top of her head and whispered something kind or loving but in this world, he doesn't. He just nods with only the hint of a smile and his eyes go to the scar, fingers lightly fanning over it. Shiloh drifts off with every movement of his fingers and it's like this is a sign of hope, big and bright neon letters of hope and healing flashing above Peter.