Dove:
Hey.
Peter stares at Daphne's message for a second. It's 2 AM. After ballet class and the conversation with Madame Touha he decided to blow off some steam on patrol and he just got out of the shower. His fingers fly over the letters. His hair is still dripping and his towel is wrapped tightly around his waist.
Peter:
You're up late.
It doesn't take long for her to reply.
Dove:
Figured you'd be asleep already.
Peter starts typing, but deletes his message quickly. Crime never sleeps is not something he should send her. Yet. She also doesn't seem to be in the mood for jokes. He tries to keep it light.
Peter:
Spiraled down the weird side of YouTube again.
Dove:
Aha.
Great. The conversation's dead now. Peter doesn't want to give up, though. He's worried about her.
Peter:
You okay?
This time she doesn't reply right away. He quickly puts on his boxers and pyjamas before jumping into bed. She's typing when he unlocks his phone again. He waits patiently for her reply.
Dove:
I'm scared.
Peter:
Do you want me to come over?
Dove:
No.
Peter groans and turns around in his bed. He hates feeling helpless.
Peter:
Is there anything I can do to help?
It's quiet again for a little bit, but she's typing. Probably trying to figure out what to say.
Dove:
Can we video chat?
Peter doesn't even type a reply anymore. He immediately hits the video camera icon, initiating a call. She doesn't take long to pick up. Her hair is all over the place and she's exactly where he is: in bed. Half her face is hidden in her pillow and the bed light illuminates the dried tears on her face.
"Hey," she says softly. Her voice doesn't really work properly.
"Hey, dove," Peter re-positions himself so she can see him better. She, however, looks away from the screen.
"I'm sorry," she mutters.
"It's okay," he reassures her. "A lot has happened. There's only so much a person can take." She sniffs and he can see her eyes water. She only nods, but at least she's looking at him again. They stay quiet for a little bit, just staring at each other through the screen. He wishes he was holding her right now. She wishes the same. Daphne swallows and takes a deep breath. She wipes away the tears from her eyes with her free hand before they can roll down her cheeks.
"I feel like he's gonna come back," she whispers after a little bit. He won't say his name again, but he knows who she's talking about.
"He's got a restraining order. If he takes one step towards you, I will personally throw him in jail."
"I don't want him to come back." He can barely hear her speak. "I feel disgusting."
"What? Why?"
"Somehow I..." Her face contorts and she hides herself completely in her pillow, before gasping for air from holding it too long.
"Daph?"
"I keep thinking about-" She starts to pant, the tears are back, but this time she can't wipe them away before they start streaming down her face. "-about how I should've let Loki kill him." Her voice goes up in pitch at the end of the sentence.
"Hey, hey," he says calmly. "Look at me." He imagines she can't actually see him all that well with the tears making her sight blurred, but he needs her to look at him anyways. "Breathe with me." Peter takes slow deep breaths in and out, nodding slowly as Daphne follows his lead. Her chest shocks at first, trying to hyperventilate in reflex, but he can see her powering through the aches in her chest.
Peter tries to look as neutral as possible for her comfort.
After a short while, she calms down a little. She's still tense, he can tell, but at least she's not breathing quickly anymore.
"You're not disgusting, Daph." She doesn't reply, she just stares at him. "He made your life hell, it's only natural to think this kind of stuff. But-" he adds quickly. "if you have the power to save someone, but you don't on purpose... How would that make you feel?" Daphne looks down and bites her lip. Peter blinks a few times before continuing, trying to keep his own breathing in check. "It would eat at you. It's a guilt you carry with you for the rest of your life."
Peter tries to repress the memories that are flooding back to him. He very much does not like thinking about his uncle and what happened because of Peter's deliberate ignorance. His own breath becomes shaky for a second and he can tell Daphne notices.
"Are you okay?" she asks softly. Peter nods quickly.
"Yeah, yeah, it's just... I need you to know that you made the right choice." He stares directly at her with a frown. They are quiet again; both processing their thoughts. She sniffs and wipes her cheeks again. This time she uses her blankets. When she lifts it, he sees she has his hoodie in bed with her. He decides not to comment on it.
"Thanks, Pete," she whispers.
"S'okay," he says simply.
"No really, thank you," she says a little louder. "With everything that's happened to me the past few weeks there has always only been one thing that was constant." She flutters her eyes in her pause and breathes deeply. "You." The corners of his mouth curl up shortly and his chest warms. She puts up a crooked smile. "I honestly can't remember what my life was like without you in it." She turns to lay on her back, leaving her phone in her hand at her side. She stares up at the ceiling and scoffs. "And it's only been two months." Peter laughs softly.
"I know exactly how you feel," he replies.
Daphne turns her head to face him again and presses her lips on top of each other in a half smile. It immediately falls off her face again, though.
"We should probably go sleep."
"Maybe," he says. "Or we could get our minds off things by discussing our outfits for the Halloween party." Daphne sniffs again and chuckles.
"Got anything in mind?" She switches to her other side, taking Peter with her as she turns. She curls up and brings her face closer to the screen.
"Not really," Peter admits. "I honestly forgot the Halloween party was a thing until Ned brought it up today."
"Fair enough," she nods and represses a yawn, fighting the exhaustion, so she can spend a little more time with Peter.
"Wanna do something stereotypical?" Peter's not exactly creative enough to come up with anything fun on the spot and standard costumes are easy to get by.
"Nah," Daphne says with a soft scoff. "Let's do something original."
"Like...?" Peter raises his eyebrows. Daphne closes her eyes and frowns as she thinks.
"Dunno yet," she sighs softly. She wiggles a little to get more comfortable. Suddenly she laughs. "How funny would it be if you wore a cheap ass Iron Man outfit." Peter snorts at the thought. Mr. Stark would definitely make fun of him. Or he'd put a picture of Peter in that outfit on his fridge. Maybe both.
"Aren't super hero costumes like, super stereotypical?"
"True, true," she sighs contently.
Peter smiles when the phone slowly starts angling away from her face. Daphne's falling asleep. She licks her lips before she speaks again:
"You'd be a great Spidey, though..." Her voice trails off. Peter freezes for a second and glances at his Spider-Man suit that he hung back in his wardrobe. It would probably be the worst idea, but he also kind of liked it. But no, he shouldn't. They shouldn't. That would be too much of a risk. He scoffs softly and smiles as he looks up at the ceiling and then back at his screen.
Daphne's breathing has become steady and slow and whatever he can still see of her face, now that her phone is only being held up by relaxed fingers, is completely serene. All the tension she showed before is gone. Her mouth is slightly opened and her cheeks are rosy. Her words echo in his head.
You'd be a great Spidey, though...
Peter chuckles quietly.
"You have no idea," he mumbles. Her lack of response proves that she has indeed fallen asleep and he readjusts himself, pulling his blankets over his shoulders. "Night, dove," he says softly before he ends the call. He puts his phone under his pillow and closes his own eyes. The sooner he falls asleep, the sooner he gets to see her again.