Through The Clouds|| The Amazing Spider-Man

...5...

I had not heard from Peter after I left school. I had finally calmed down after drinking some nice tea.

It wasn't fair to him that I was getting mad. He had no idea of how I felt for him, and I had no right to get mad over him having a crush. It hurt, but nothing I couldn't handle.

I decided to text Peter and check up on him. I debated calling him, but that felt too intrusive. Especially if he was out with Gwen.

Sooo, what punishment did Ben give you? Pls tell me he put you on time-out.

Busy right now. At Oscorp.

Sorry, be careful and get home. It's 9:30.

I couldn't help but feel a little put off by that response. It was rather late to be at the lab. He should get home before May gets worried.

I was moping around my apartment for what feels like forever. I like to shower before I sleep, so I was still in my day clothes. I let my ponytail loose, because my head hurt.

I had a weird feeling in the pit of my stomach, like everything was about to change. That is probably because of Peter's sticky situation this morning.

He claims that he doesn't know how that happened, but I think he knows. At least, some ideas. He went to Oscorp yesterday, so something must have happened there.

I turned on the TV to watch America's next top model. It's some rerun but I didn't mind. A while had passed, and I didn't notice how much time.

I wanted to text Peter and ask him if he was safely home, but I didn't want to bother him. If only I could know what he was thinking. It seems like he always had something on his mind. No matter how big it is, he always looks burdened.

My hand reached for my phone, and as I was going to mark P's number, I got a call from him. I immediately answered.

"Chelsea!" He screamed before I could speak. "Oh, God! It's all my fault!"

My heart started beating faster. "What's wrong, Peter?" I asked desperately, but all I could hear were sobs on the other end. "Where are you? What happened?"

"I killed Uncle Ben. It's all my fault!"

"What are you on about? Peter, please tell me what's wrong?" I begged. My throat was closing up and it was getting difficult to speak. "I'm going to your house. Where are you?"

"I don't really know what happened." He was breathing heavily and sirens were ringing. "They are sending me home, Chelsea. It's all my fault. Aunt May is telling me to go home, but I don't want to go home. I can't face it."

"Come over right now. I'm alone." I was so stressed that I could barely speak. "Put Aunt May on the phone."

He obliged and the sobs of Aunt May rang through the phone. My heart broke into a million pieces. "Ben has been shot. Please help Peter while I sort this out, honey."

I dropped my phone and fell to my knees. I started crying, still in shock. I sobbed and sobbed until my elevator dinged. I ran out and saw Peter standing there, he looked numb.

His face was red and patchy. He had bits of glass stuck to his clothes and hair. His eyes were puffy but no tears were coming out.

I threw my arms around him and guided him to my bed. He didn't have a reaction, he just followed me. When we sat down, he wrapped his arms around me and let out a sob.

"I fought with him." He said without giving me any context. "It was my fault he was there."

I rubbed my hand against his back. "Walk me through it, Peter." I tried to speak but my voice cracked at the end. "Please."

He sighed and wiped his eyes. "I fought with him and walked out. The robbery happened at the store I was at, trying to buy chocolate milk. If I had just talked to him, he would be alive."

I shook my head, separating from him a little. "No, Peter. Don't say that." He just backed away from me, sitting at the edge of my bed. "Can I hug you?" I asked not wanting to overstep.

He looked at me sniffled. Finally he nodded. I sat behind him and extended my arms around his chest. He leaned back on me and closed his eyes.

After about an hour or so of crying, he fell asleep. I didn't want to let him go, careful to not lose him too.

Eventually, all of this started to sink in. Ben was dead. The Ben that threw me a birthday when my parents were too busy. He gave me my first headband, sparking an obsession. He made me late night grilled cheeses when I stayed over. He signed my report cards when they would sit weeks on end pasted on my fridge.

The Uncle Ben that acted more like my father than my dad for years.

I couldn't sleep so I sat here, with Peter in my arms. I cried silently, careful to not wake him after the day he has had. I wiped my tears with my hand every so often, making sure that they wouldn't drip on to Peter.

At moments like these I do wish that my parents would check on me more, but that was what Uncle Ben was for. He checked to make sure I was okay, and patched up all of my wounds when I wasn't.