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#I’ve also injured my wrist doing my crochet so I can’t even do that
andydrarch · 5 years
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Don’t know if this has been mentioned at all before but Bernadetta definitely has ptsd from her abuse. I’m gonna try to explain it as best as I can, and this probably isn’t much of a stretch tbh, but yeah this is gonna be long so I’m not expecting this to get a lot of attention lol. Mild spoilers up to like right before the time skip btw!
HOPEFULLY it’ll go below this cut if it actually goes in ugh
-the most obvious symptom is the anxiety. She’s always hypervigilant and scared and overreacting to stressors. The first two are obvious in what they mean but in case the last one’s not it’s how she immediately assumes the worst and starts screaming whenever anyone tries to talk to her
-even though she knows what her father did was terrible and wrong she still believes all the stuff he told her. She thinks she’s useless and no one likes her and that she’s not fit for relationships and that’s an indicator she’s still stuck reliving her abuse
-they don’t show a lot of this but in her and Dorothea’s C support it definitely seems like Bernie gets an abuse flashback triggered by talking about getting closer with Dorothea, since she runs off saying stuff her dad told her. Because one of Bernie’s more traumatic memories is when her father had a commoner friend of hers nearly beat to death, it’s not super shocking that having another commoner try to befriend her would trigger that
-they’re not as noticeable bc everyone focuses on her anxiety, but Bernadetta also has the angry outbursts every-so-often that can be symptomatic of ptsd. The first one that comes to mind is when she’s talking with Caspar and he goes off on a rabbit trail and she yells at him to get him to refocus. (I’m certain she’s gotten mad at people in other supports, too, but I’m not going too in-depth with this lol) People with ptsd can feel like they don’t have control over their life, and getting mad and shouting can briefly make them feel in control, and at least in that situation she was def trying to get their conversation back to where she wanted it
-another thing I’ve noticed is every time someone touches her she has a very strong negative reaction to it. I think in her and Ferdinand’s C support (it’s vague tbh) he tries to grab her arm or something and she just twists his wrist? Like just the though of being touched is enough to make her hurt someone. She talked about how one time her dad tried to drag her out of her room and she got seriously injured in the process, so again, I could see that memory being triggered when she gets touched in certain places
-not really sure what this one means in relation to ptsd but when Byleth merges with Sothis and gets the slight appearance change and Bernadetta actively refuses to eat bc she’d have to leave her room and MAYBE run into Byleth with the new look is extremely concerning. It’s probably something like someone she trusted a lot changed a little and she’s too scared of getting hurt again to accept it easily
-also I feel like it’s worth noting that basically all of her favorite hobbies are things that are useful for coping with anxiety. Not that hobbies can’t be used for that normally!! It’s just she likes writing about her traumas (at least I think that’s what was said in her and Sylvain’s supports), crocheting complicated dolls (aka carnivorous plants), painting, reading, etc, and it seems like she’s using these to cope with her bad thoughts and memories. She generally has a lot of bad thoughts, probably even to the intrusive level, and those are really good ways to put other thoughts in your head (I do some of these all the time for my regular anxiety!)
-this one’s more conceptual but while it seems like most of the students have a general idea of what they want to do in the future (even Linhardt is like yeah studying stuff would be fun), Bernadetta is too far into constant survival mode to have had any thoughts about that. Granted this could be in her A supports, but anything that takes place post-time skip leaves plenty of time for her to have learned better ways to cope and start to manage the ptsd to a more livable state
-avoiding people would let her avoid all her triggers, however slowly being exposed to people more and more makes her triggers less extreme. So instead of interpreting her being forced by her classmates to be more extroverted actually doing that, I see it more as she’s becoming less set-off by people since she’s in a welcoming environment full of people who care about her, and is starting to become a healthier introvert in general
-one of the bigger things I can think of, too, is how in her B support with Ferdinand she mentions having bad days where she can’t leave her room, but then having more confidence to try harder the next day. Imo, the bad days are probably days when she’s had one of those really bad flashbacks and it takes her all day to break through the negative emotions that result. However, since she actually has a support system now (I know her mom didn’t contribute to the abuse but also she didn’t stop it so), it’s easier for her to push through all the crappiness and force herself out of her room for a class
-in conclusion these are just things I’ve noticed and they might not actually mean she has ptsd. I’m not an expert, and I def don’t have it, so please don’t take this too seriously if you disagree!
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greatpretending · 7 years
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This City Never Sleeps (When We’re Dancing)
Word Count: 5043
Pairing: Eventual Peter Parker x Female!Reader
Warnings: Mentions of blood and light cursing.
Summary: Part Four of This City Never Sleeps. Just as you’re coming to terms with your feelings for Peter, everything falls apart.
Tags: @seargantbcky​ @darlin-you-bitch​ @emily-ily2​ @rosep16​ @comics-and-stuff​ @t4rt-deco​ @octopishisahybridanimal​ @slythergirlimagines​  @philipshaaayyyy @catwoman2502@minimalistxx @sophiatomlinson23@johnsonxstilinski @raindancer2004 @vanessly@newyorkrebel @letstrysomefanfic @half-superhero @mermaid-princess-wannabe @mmmaff @spideysensesparker @ttholland
“Did you take Peter’s suit away?!”
You stormed into the workshop, where Tony was working on something or another. He had been spending a lot more time at the penthouse during the limbo between moving the Avengers from the Tower to the new facility upstate.
“Yes, I did.” Tony said plainly, not looking up from his work.
“How could you do that?” you asked angrily. “Peter loves being Spider-Man more than anything! He’s found his calling- you can’t just take that away from him!”
“I can, and I did.” Tony replied, finally meeting your eyes.
“That’s not fair!” you shouted. “Peter doesn’t deserve--”
“People almost died today,” Tony cut you off. You could tell he was starting to lose his patience. “Peter almost died today. He’s been throwing himself recklessly into danger, and I can’t have that on my conscience.”
You put your hands on your hips and took a deep breath. Getting in a fight with Tony wasn’t going to help the situation. You needed to be the supportive link between him and Peter. And honestly, you could see where Tony was coming from. After Rhodey getting injured and all the fighting between the Avengers, he was just trying to protect someone else he cared about. Too many people had already been hurt.
“Look,” Tony said. “I know you kids like to think you can save the world, but the adults can’t do it either, so we have to keep you guys safe for as long as we can.”
That put some tension in the air for a moment. The words were heavy, but they were absolutely true. You sighed.
“I’m going to go make sure he’s okay,” you said. “He hasn’t texted me back all afternoon. I had to find out what happened from Ned.”
“Good, go be his friend,” Tony said, turning back to his work. “Kids need friends, not overbearing responsibility.”
A short while later you were standing outside Peter’s bedroom door, arms full of comfort foods and DVDs. You knocked and waited patiently as you heard Peter get up from his bed and pad over to the door. It swung open, and Peter didn’t even look surprised to see you. He just looked so… sad. You could tell he had been crying, his eyes were red-rimmed and puffy. His hair was a mess.
It broke your heart.
Peter didn’t say anything to you, he just left the door open and went back to his bed. Before he closed the window, you could see he had been watching videos of Spider-Man on youtube. You stepped into the room and closed the door behind yourself gently.
“So,” you began. “We can either talk about it and eat all this junk food I brought, or we can watch Back to the Future, eat the junk food, and not talk about it.”
“Movie,” he mumbled, popping open his disk drive. You took over the laptop and set up the movie, turning off the lights before settling onto the bed with Peter, opening a bag of chips for the two of you to share.
You spent the next hour paying more attention to Peter than the movie. You tried to gauge his mood and read his thoughts with every move he made. You longed to reach out and hold his hand, or even just touch his arm- something to comfort him and let him know you were there to support him. But you didn’t, because the last thing you wanted to do was cross a line and make him more upset than he already was.
“I was just trying to help,” Peter said quietly. You turned to look at him, he was still looking at the screen. “Y’know, I thought… I thought no one was listening to me. I thought no one else was going to stop them, I… I was afraid…”
Screw it, you thought. You reached out and took his hand, squeezing it tightly. He squeezed back.
“I just wanted to help.”
In the following weeks you kept a close eye on Peter, and you watched him grow a little happier every day. You watched as he started doing better in his classes, he started building computers again, and you even saw him reading a book for pleasure- something you hadn’t witnessed in months.
You were glad to see the dark circles under his eyes fade as he started getting more sleep. You were really beginning to see the old Peter in him again- the pre-stress, pre-Spider-Man Peter who was relaxed and loved making puns and who was on a personal quest to find the best alfredo pizza in Queens. You started to think that maybe it was a good thing that Tony took his suit away.
This- this was the Peter you knew you definitely had a crush on. The sweet, caring boy who was passionate about his hobbies, who loved his aunt more than anything in the world, and who never failed to make you laugh. As the days passed you started to gather your courage. Homecoming was that weekend, and you wanted to dance with Peter at least once. You tried to not spend sleepless nights and boring classes imagining his hand on your waist and his face so, so close to yours, but you were weak, so that’s what took up most of your thoughts. A couple times you’d been called out in class for not paying attention, but you managed to make it through Friday without any serious incident.
And then disaster struck.
You were standing outside the school gates talking to Ned before he got on the bus when Peter sprinted up to you.
“IjustaskedLiztoHomecomingandshesaidyesIgottagobye!” Peter shouted, before taking off again. You said nothing as you watched him run.
“Did he just say that he asked Liz to Homecoming and she said yes?” Ned asked.
“Yep,” you said, feeling the crack in your heart grow longer by the second.
“Oh no,” Ned said. He started to say something else, but just then his bus pulled up to the curb. “I’m sorry, I have to go. I’ll text you!” Ned said as he climbed onto the bus.
You looked back to the last place you had seen Peter, before he turned the corner. Of course he still liked Liz. He’d shown no indication of liking you back. And why wouldn’t he like Liz? She was tall and pretty and smart and you were--
“She’s not better than you, you know,” a voice said behind you, making you jump. You spun around and Michelle was there, wearing an unreadable expression.
“How do you always do that?” you asked, a little annoyed.
“Liz isn’t better than you,” Michelle repeated, ignoring your question. You laughed.
“Well, it’s kind of a confidence killer when all they do is talk about how pretty and smart she is,” you said. Michelle looked at you quizzically.
“You know you’re pretty too, right?” Michelle asks. “Unfairly so. And? You’re also incredibly smart. It won’t be long before you’re the ‘new Liz Allan’ of the school, just like how Liz is the ‘new Maddy Crochet.’ High Schoolers cycle through the same roles over and over.” Michelle began walking away, but turned around, pointedly looking down at your watch and then back at your face. You tugged your sleeve over your wrist. “You know it can be sooner rather than later.”
You shook your head before heading to your car, hands shoved in the pockets of your hoodie. Cool, so Michelle knew everything all the time, apparently. You were starting to think she was less observant and just had the ability to read minds. With everything you’d seen it would hardly surprise you.
It wasn’t until you were in the car and halfway home that you got a text from Ned.
dude im so sorry
It’s fine.
no its not i kno u really like him
It’s fine, Ned, I just… won’t go to Homecoming.
what??? u cant skip hoco!!
I don’t want to see them together I just… I’ll think about it.
ok let me know if you want to talk
When you got home you went immediately to the workshop. Tony was already in there, music playing loudly as he reworked the wiring on one of his suit’s hands. You dropped your backpack on the ground and sat down at your bench, setting to work on your heart regulator. This project had been your baby for years, and nothing made you feel better like making progress on it.
“How was school?” Tony asked you.
“I don’t really want to talk about it,” you replied, opening a drawer and pulling out a pair of pliers.
“Pizza for dinner?” Tony asked. Tony never pried. He knew you would talk to him when you were ready.
“Yes please.”
Pepper found you in the same spot the next afternoon.
You were getting into the finer details of your creation, trying to set the electrical pulses just so, and you weren’t having much luck. Either it was emitting a wave so small you could barely feel it buzzing on your hand, or so strong that it was jumping to every bit of metal it could reach. You just couldn’t find that happy medium, and you were growing more frustrated by the second.
You reset the transducer again and flipped the switch. Lightning jumped out of the machine, sending sparks flying in all directions before it overwhelmed itself and shut down completely.
“Damnit!” you shouted, slamming a fist onto the table. Why couldn’t just one thing go right? You put your face in your hands and did your best to hold back tears. You always hated that you were a frustrated crier. You started cleaning up your bench, opening and closing drawers a little too hard.
“What is going on with you?” Pepper asked from the doorway, and you startled, not having heard her come in. “I’ve never seen you like this.”
“Stupid transducer isn’t working,” you grumbled, closing your notebook and stuffing it back in your backpack. Pepper rolled a chair over and sat down next to you.
“Okay. What’s the real problem?” she asked patiently, and suddenly you found yourself telling her everything. It was like a dam had broken open and the words were just spilling out of your mouth. You told her how worried you had been about Peter and how much you had grown to like him over the past few weeks. You told her about Liz and how you wanted to hate her but you couldn’t because she was too freaking nice. You told her about Michelle and how she knew your secret and how much that scared you. You told her you were tired of having so many secrets.
“Clearly, you have to go to the dance,” Pepper said, when you were finally done. You laughed, not looking up from your feet. “I’m serious,” Pepper insisted. “Go have a good time with your friends, and don’t let one boy ruin it for you. Go for you, you’ll have more fun there than you will sitting in this grease-trap,” she said, and then quieter and with a wink, “Showing Peter what he’s missing will just be a little added bonus.”
“Even if I were to go, the dance starts at seven and it’s…” you looked down at your watch and laughed again. “Five fifty-two. There’s no way I’d make it in time.”
“So be fashionably late,” you and Pepper both snapped your heads up at the sound of Tony’s voice. He was leaning casually in the doorway, and you had no doubt he’d heard everything. “Take one of my cars. Really make an entrance. Hell, we’ll drive you on our way to the airport.
“You’re a Stark,” Tony said. “And when Starks get knocked down, we get back back up, stronger, wiser, and better than ever, and we work the problem until it’s solved. You can’t solve your problems out there by holing yourself up in here.”
You looked back and forth between the two of them, each returning your gaze expectantly, before you finally stood up.
“Okay,” you said. “I’ll go.”
Pepper clapped her hands together in delight and immediately started ushering you down the hall, Tony trailing behind. She sat you down at the vanity in your room and set to work on smoothing your hair, twisting it and pinning it into a loose, wavy updo while Tony went to retrieve a car from the parking garage under the building.
“What were you planning on wearing?” Pepper asked you as she started on your makeup. She left it mostly natural, enough to accentuate your features but not dramatic enough to change them.
“I… wasn’t. I was going to decide last night, I know I have plenty of options in my closet,” you replied, starting to panic. You didn’t have time to try everything on.
“On it!” Tony called, zipping back through your bedroom door and into your walk-in. He started pulling dresses out, holding them up for you and Pepper to appraise.
“Too formal.”
“No one can pull off that color. I don’t know why I bought it.”
“That’s a sundress.”
“That’s a Halloween costume.”
“Wait!” Pepper exclaimed. She stood up straight, lip pencil in hand. “Grab the white one that she wore to the Tonys this year.” Pepper turned back to you. “That one makes you look like an angel.”
Tony disappeared back into the closet to find the dress, and reappeared just as Pepper was swiping the final coat of gloss over your lips. “Is this it?” he asked.
“That’s the one!” Pepper exclaimed. She took the dress from him and shooed him out of the room.
Pepper helped you into the dress, zipping up the back for you and finding your shoes for you while you changed the strap on your watch to your “fancy event” band. You slipped on the shoes, hooking a few sparkling earrings into your lobes before standing in front of your full-length mirror. Pepper opened the door again and let Tony back inside.
“Wow,” he said. “Pepper was right, you look beautiful.”
“Thank you,” you said, trying to not feel too embarrassed. You looked down at your watch. 7:12. With good traffic you could make it to the school in twenty minutes.
“You’re right,” Tony said, noticing where your attention was. “We’re late. Cars ready, let’s go!”
The three of you hurried to the elevator, and you felt more and more nervous with each floor you passed. When you finally made your way through the lobby and out of the building you were shocked by the car parked in front of you.
“We’re taking the Maserati?” you squeaked. The red and gold car was the flashiest thing Tony kept in New York City.
“I did say we were going to make an entrance, didn’t I?” Tony replied with a smile, opening the door for you. You carefully sat inside- for your sake and the car’s- and gathered your dress inside so Tony wouldn’t close it in the door. Pepper turned around in her seat to look at you.
“Everything is going to be fine,” she said with a smile. “You’re going to have a lot of fun, I promise.”
You tried to smile back, but you weren’t sure how convincing it was. Tony got in the driver’s seat and you were off, headed towards Midtown and there was no turning back. What if this was all a mistake? What if you got picked on more after this? How would Flash treat you when he found out he wasn’t the richest kid in the school anymore? What if you had to watch Liz and Peter dance together? What if you saw them kiss?
You pushed the thought out of your head, and decided to try to distract yourself by pulling out your phone and sending a text to Ned.
Obviously going to be late, but I’m on my way.
yay!! peter and liz arent even here yet oh wait liz just walked in
You didn’t reply. You didn’t need any more details to overthink. Instead you opened Snapchat and took a selfie, adding a little “Homecoming ♡” caption and putting it on your story. You scrolled through Instagram for the rest of the ride, making light conversation with Tony and Pepper about their trip upstate while you looked at picture after picture of your classmates getting ready for the dance.
You managed to subdue your nerves for a while, but as Tony pulled the car up in front of the school they came back full force. Your stomach twisted inside you and your heart pounded in your ears as you looked out the window and saw every student standing outside or close enough to the windows to see the Maserati staring at you. They just didn’t know it was you yet. Pepper turned around to look at you again.
“Knock ‘em dead,” she said. “And call me in the morning.”
“I will,” you said, leaning forward and kissing her on the cheek. “Thank you.”
Tony got out of the car and opened your door for you. You heard the instant murmur of recognition from your classmates, but you forced yourself to ignore it as Tony helped you out of the car and onto the sidewalk.
“Work the problem until it’s fixed,” he said quietly, kissing you on the cheek as well. He got back in the car and rolled down the window. “Have a nice night, sweetie!” he said, loud enough for everyone to hear. He didn’t usually call you by pet names like that, but you knew exactly what game he was playing.
“Thanks Uncle Tony!” you called as he drove off. Then you turned and faced the school. All eyes were on you, but you didn’t make eye contact with anyone. You were afraid you’d lose your small burst of courage if you did. Instead, you focused solely on the door handles, not looking away from them as you walked up the steps. Everyone grew quiet again as you walked past those standing outside, the only things you heard were the traffic behind you and the muffled thumping of the bass coming from the speakers in the gym.
You reached the door at last and pulled it open, music, laughter, and conversation bursting from inside. You walked into the gym, painfully aware of how many eyes were on you, and how quickly the news was spreading that you’d just been dropped off by Tony Stark.
You frantically searched the crowd for a friendly face, and your eyes fell on Michelle, standing by herself near the edge of the dance floor. You made your way over to her, more than happy to be in the company of someone non-judgemental.
“Well, well, well,” she said with a smile when she saw you. “I’m almost Starked- sorry, shocked that you showed up.” You rolled your eyes at her lame joke.
“Pepper can be pretty convincing,” you said, smiling back. It felt good to be able to talk about your life without worrying about keeping your secret. “I love your dress.” Leave it to Michelle to wear something completely surprising, yet not surprising at all.
“Me?” Michelle laughed. “You look like you just stepped off a red carpet!”
“Well, y’know…” you said, averting your eyes. Then something caught your attention.
Liz was standing on the dance floor with a couple of friends, visibly upset. You looked around, but Peter was nowhere to be found.
“What’s up with Liz?” you asked Michelle. “Where’s Peter?”
“Beats me,” Michelle replied with a shrug. “We saw him for like, half a second and then he went running off. Ned disappeared a few minutes later. It was weird.”
“Yeah…that’s weird,” you said, growing worried. “Hey, I’m going to run to the bathroom, okay?” You didn’t wait for a response as you hurried out of the gym.
“Bathroom’s that way!” you heard Michelle call behind you, but you didn’t stop.
You pushed the door open and stepped into the dark hallway, but before you could call Ned and ask him what the hell was going on, you saw him being led in the direction of the principal’s office.
“Ned, wha-”
“The vulture has landed,” Ned cut you off, eyes wide and frantic. “The vulture has landed!”
Catching his meaning, you immediately pulled out your phone, dialing Tony’s number and pushing your way through the crowd of students back to the front door. It went straight to voicemail. Shit. You dialed Pepper’s number, but it also went to voicemail. They must be going through security at the airport. You dialed Happy’s number, and crossed your fingers as it rang, but he didn’t pick up.
“Damnit!” you said, pushing your way out the front door.
You were met with gasps and exclamations, and you looked up to see a giant fireball streaking its way across the sky.
“Oh my god, PURDUE get my suit here as fast as you can!” you said.
“Two minutes until suit arrival,” PURDUE told you.
You watched with everyone else as the flames ripped through the night sky. Somehow, you knew Peter was on that plane. You tried Happy’s phone again, but he still didn’t pick up. Soon, you saw your suit headed toward you, and you hurried down the steps to meet it. It landed on the sidewalk and opened itself up. You kicked off your shoes and gathered your skirt awkwardly around your hips, stepping into the suit. You didn’t have time to worry about comfort.
Students rushed out of the building to watch as you turned toward the falling plane, which was only seconds from hitting the ground.
“A grand entrance and a grand exit,” you muttered before taking off. It was a little shaky, but you quickly grew more comfortable with the controls. Being in the suit was like riding a bike, it became second nature.
You flew as quickly as you could toward the now-crashed plane, praying that Peter was safe. Coney Island was twenty miles away, and you had to take into account that your body was not used to the extreme G-forces like Tony’s was. You wouldn’t be of any help to Peter if you showed up and immediately started vomiting everywhere.
You were almost to the crash site when an explosion went off, and your heart leapt into your throat. To hell with G-forces, you flew as fast as the suit would let you.
When you finally reached Coney Island, Peter and the Vulture were lying side-by-side, both breathing heavily. Peter had blood and dirt all over his face and you did your best to not panic, landing beside him and retracting the helmet on your suit.
“Hey, hey,” you said, kneeling down beside Peter. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”
Peter started to sit up, and so did the Vulture. You detatched one of your gloves and it pushed him back onto the ground, holding him there. He raised his hands in defeat.
“I’m okay,” Peter said, but he wouldn’t make eye contact with you.
You helped Peter lean the Vulture up against some debris and watched Peter web him up as you called Happy’s phone again, finally getting ahold of him. You saw Peter smile a little as he patted his pocket, then he pulled out a piece of paper and a marker. Peter wrote a note on the page and webbed it up next to the Vulture’s head.
“Let’s go,” he said, still not really looking at you. You flew him up to the top of the Cyclone and watched as he rubbed his wrist in discomfort.
“May I?” you asked, holding out your hand. He gave you his arm, and you checked it over for any sign of broken bones. “I don’t think you broke it, maybe a fracture, but with your rapid healing you should be fine in about… half an hour,” you concluded.
“Thanks,” Peter said, not taking his eyes from the wrecked plane.
“Do you… want to go to my place? Or do you want me to take you home?” you asked, trying to get him to open up a little.
“I kind of just want to be alone for a while, if that’s okay,” Peter said quietly. “You can go, I just… I want to wait here until someone shows up to take that guy away.”
“Okay,” you said, understanding. “Will you just text me when you get home to let me know you’re safe?”
“Yeah,” he said.
You stood up, unable to read Peter’s expression as you took one last look at his face. You wished you could do more to help him.
As you flew back toward Queens, you took your time. You thought about Peter, worried about him the whole time. You worried about how Tony would react to Peter disobeying him again. Personally, you thought Tony should be grateful, but your uncle could be a bit of a wild card sometimes. There was just no way of knowing how he’d feel about something until he told you. You worried about Peter falling back into his depression, having gotten another taste of the superhero life. You worried about Peter dealing with possible PTSD after falling through the sky on a flaming airplane.
Without consciously making the decision to go there, you found yourself on the roof of Peter’s apartment building. You knew you should probably go home, but you also knew that you wouldn’t be able to relax until you saw Peter again anyway.
As quietly as you could, you flew down to Peter’s bedroom window, sliding it open and slipping inside. You stepped out of the suit, which folded itself up neatly into a little cube. Your skirt fell back to your feet, and you closed the bedroom window.
You sat down on the edge of Peter’s bed and waited. You didn’t dare pick up your phone, because you knew all of your social media would be flooded. Instead, you entertained yourself by flipping through one of Peter’s Star Wars comic books. It wasn’t a perfect distraction, but it helped you pass the time nonetheless.
It was probably about forty-five minutes later that you heard Peter’s window open again, and you set the book down next to you. Peter crawled across his ceiling and dropped down onto the floor. When he turned around, he jumped a little at the sight of you.
“You and Ned have got to stop doing that,” he said, heading for his dresser. His face was still caked in dirt, blood, and sweat, and you thought you could see the residue of a few tears streaking through the mess down his cheeks.
“Sorry,” you said quietly.
“It’s kind of good that you’re here, though. Because I wouldn’t have been able to text you. Lost my phone tonight,” Peter said with a laugh that let you know he didn’t think it was funny at all as he rummaged through his drawers, pulling out clothes. “May is going to kill me.”
“I’ll replace your phone,” you assured him.
“You don’t have-”
“I want to,” you insisted. Peter looked down at the clothes in his hand for a moment before turning to you.
“I really, really want to shower,” he said. “And then we can talk, okay?”
“Okay,” you said. “Is May…?”
“No, she went to her friend Juli’s tonight, and they always go a bit too hard on the wine, so she won’t be home ‘til late,” Peter explained. “I’ll be right back.”
With that, Peter hurried out of the room, so you picked up the comic book again. Just under twenty minutes later you heard Peter’s footsteps heading back toward the bedroom.
“Hey,” he said, stepping back into the room and shutting the door behind himself. He was all clean. Bruised, but clean. His wet hair fell over his forehead and he was wearing a very soft-looking sweatshirt that made you want to hug him. He tossed his bloodied, homemade suit into his hamper. “So… Happy showed up and took care of Liz’s dad,” Peter said, folding his arms over his chest.
“Wait, that was Liz’s dad?” you asked incredulously.
“Yeah, that’s how I knew where he was going to be,” Peter explained. “I feel like a huge dick for ruining her Homecoming,” he said. “And yours.”
“What? Peter, you didn’t ruin anything. I almost didn’t even go, so--”
“Why weren’t you going to go?” Peter asked you, surprised. You scrambled for a second to find an answer.
“It’s not important,” you finally said, looking away from him.
“Well, for what it’s worth,” Peter said softly, “I am sorry.” You weren’t quite sure what he was apologizing for, but that wasn’t important either.
“There is one thing you can do to make it up to me,” you told him, pressing a few buttons on your watch.
“What’s that?” Peter asked, and you stood up, heart pounding in your chest as you held your hand out to him. Soft music began playing from your cube of a suit.
“Dance with me?” you asked, and Peter smiled.
He took your outstretched hand in his and put his other on your waist. You leaned into him, standing so close you were practically resting your head on his shoulder. His sweatshirt was just as soft as it looked, and this close you could smell his shampoo from his still-wet hair. You swayed together, barely moving your feet, and as the minutes passed you both relaxed more and more.
“I meant to tell you before,” Peter whispered. “You do look amazing tonight. Like- like an angel.” You could practically hear the blush that matched yours in his voice that, and you smiled into his shoulder, mumbling your thanks. You knew your hair probably looked like a mess after being shoved in that helmet, and you weren’t even wearing shoes, but it was sweet of him to say that anyway.
Maybe tomorrow he’d be officially dating Liz Allan, but for now, he was here with you. Maybe he’d never get to be Spider-Man again, but for now, he was just Peter, and Peter made you happier than Spider-Man ever could.
Maybe one day you would tell Peter how you feel, but for now, this was enough.
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