You're Not My Spiderman | TASM!Peter Parker x Reader

Part Four

Warnings: mentions of trauma, drowning and torture, ptsd attack

May wasn't home when you got back, so Peter was able to take you in through the front door. You walked around in a daze, unable to focus or concentrate on anything. Maybe if you'd been in the right mind, you'd have gone over to the baby photos of Peter and laughed at them, and maybe compared them to your Peter.

Peter led you upstairs to his room, and you didn't let go of him the whole way. You needed something to anchor you to the world, otherwise you were going to dive into your mind and never be able to get out.

"Are - are you cold?" Peter asked. "Should I get you a towel?"

You didn't respond, eyes trained directly in front of you. The hand holding yours disappeared, and you started to breathe heavier. You were back in the water, you were drowning, there was no being rescued...

Hands gently wrapped a towel around you, and you blinked before looking up at Peter. He made sure that you were covered before wrapping his arm around your shoulders. You leaned into his touch. He felt warm, unlike the freezing depths of the water that had drowned you many times.

"Hey... do you want to put something comfy on?" Peter asked you softly.

You were still in your suit, but you couldn't bring yourself to get changed. You shook your head and Peter frowned slightly, but he gently hugged you, and you hugged him back, using him as your anchor to the world. Peter placed his chin on your head and rubbed your arms and back comfortingly, and you sniffled slightly.

It almost reminded you of what had happened with your Peter, back in your world. How he would always comfort you in your times of need. Perhaps every Peter Parker out there was genetically wired to comfort you.

You started to shiver as your suit got colder with the water, but you couldn't find it in yourself to let go of the brown-haired boy. He noticed your shivering and pulled back to survey you.

"You need to get changed," he said softly, but sternly. "You'll freeze."

You looked into his eyes. Those brown eyes were a spectrum of hues, and it caused you to wonder what the word 'brown' even meant. His eyes were the forest with its autumn foliage, as well as the soil in the summer and after rains. When the colours invited you to marvel in their simplicity, how could one possibly limit something so captivating to one word?

You realised you'd zoned out staring into his eyes, so you just nodded instead. Peter let out a breath of slight relief and led you into the bathroom, giving you some clothes to change into.

You looked into the mirror, and for a second you could have sworn you'd seen the 'project manager' behind you. You'd never learnt his name, but knew that he was the one responsible for everything happening to you.

You turned around quickly, but no one was there. But still, you could faintly hear his voice in your head...

"It's only going to hurt a lot."

"Do you want your mummy?"

Cruel laughter.

You changed into the clothes quickly, trying to block out the voice, and left the bathroom once you'd finished. Peter was pulling a shirt over his head, and you caught sight of his rock-hard abs. If you weren't currently having a PTSD attack, maybe you'd stop to admire them.

You could still hear the water running. The water filling up the tank. Your breathing began to quicken, until you were pulled gently into a warm body.

"It's okay," Peter murmured. "I've got you."

And then you began to cry. You started shaking with the force of the tears, and Peter held you tightly. Peter began to hush you, rocking you back and forth as you cried. You cried and cried and cried your heart out, until you were too tired to stand. Your knees buckled, but Peter swept you into his arms and lay you down on the bed. He tucked you in gently and turned to go to his mattress, when you grabbed his arm.

"Stay?" you whispered. "Please?"

Peter's face softened and he nodded, slowly climbing into bed with you, keeping some distance between the two of you. You reached out and grabbed his hand, needing something to hold onto. His fingers curled around yours, and some small part of you began to relax. Somehow, you felt safe here.

Safe with him.