☑ THE SHADOW | Peter Maximoff

f o r t y - n i n e

~ 𝐏𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫 ~

"Ames?"

Peter shook her body, his heart in the pit of his stomach.

"Amara," he tried again, his hand buried in her hair as he held her tighter. "Please, Ames, wake up."

He bit his lip hard as he looked up at the dead body of It, and choked when he saw It slowly disappear. It was leaving. It couldn't survive without Amara. She couldn't be gone. She couldn't be gone. She could heal herself. She had to be able to heal herself. Everything should be okay.

His fingers trembled as they gently shut her eyelids.

He didn't even know what to think anymore.

Peter sat with Amara for a long time after that. He just sat, cradling her body and kissing her forehead every so often. What had he done wrong? How could so much happen in the span of two months, and all of it come down to this? And most importantly... why couldn't it had been him instead of her? Why did it have to be her?

The call of his name made him look up. It was Ororo. She appeared from behind a pile of rubble with a worried look on her face, which he watched slowly fall. Silently, she walked up to him and knelt by his side.

He stayed silent as Ororo placed one hand on Amara's shoulder, and another on his.

"She's in a better place, now," she whispered.

He nodded. She better be. He'd have a lot of hell to raise if Amara wasn't somewhere where she was treated like royalty.

"It's time to come home."

He wasn't even sure he wanted to go home anymore. It wasn't going to be the same at all.

"Would you like me to carry her?"

"No," he answered immediately, tightening his grip on Amara. "I can do it."

"Okay."

He had to readjust Amara in his arms, but once he was in a good position, he stood up slowly, and followed Ororo to the X-Jet. He ignored the pain in his arms, and the wobble of his legs. He was getting her home. He promised he was going to take her home, and that's what he was going to do.

He carried her up the ramp of the plane and walked to one the of the walls, where he slid down it and sighed. He ignored the staring of everyone, and adjusted Amara in his arms so her face was tucked into his neck. He wasn't sure when he'd be able to let her go.

Eventually, the plane hovered in the air and flew off. Ororo handed him a cloth, which he thanked her for, then slowly started wiping down Amara's face. He didn't bother hiding his tears as he did so.

His throat was thick as he asked, "What day is it today?"

"Wednesday," Scott answered.

Ororo elbowed him. "August fifteenth."

Peter hummed. "So I was right. It's not July."

He didn't say anything after that. It didn't matter, anyway, because he passed out from exhaustion only a few minutes later.

*****

Peter refused to let anyone else carry Amara off the plane and into the school. He didn't want to let go. He was scared about what it meant if he did. He carried her throughout the school, ignoring the chattering of all the students. He followed Hank downstairs toward medical, but stopped when Hank asked him to lay Amara on one of the beds.

He didn't want to put Amara down. He didn't want to let her go.

"Peter!"

He recognized the voice, and instantly turned around. His mom stood at the end of the hallway, with Wanda and Lorna right behind her. He could see tears brimming her eyes as she rushed forward, while his eyes pricked with his own.

"Baby, put her down," she said when she reached him, her hand comfortingly rubbing up his back while her eyes searched his face.

He shook his head. "I can't."

"Come on," she said, "I know it's hard. But you have to put her down."

He wasn't sure how long it took to convince him, but eventually, Peter listened and gently laid Amara down on the bed. It was like his body broke down as soon as he did. He fell to the floor with no feeling in his legs. He was pretty sure it was his mom that lifted him up to tug him into her lap, because he could feel her comfortingly hold him close and pet the hair on the top of his head, just like she had always done when he was a boy.

Peter was convinced he hadn't cried harder than he did in that moment. He sputtered about how she saved him but he couldn't save her, and how he wished everything could have been different, other things he couldn't even remember.

The only person that knew exactly what he had been through was gone, and he didn't get to tell her everything he wanted. He wasn't going to be able to live out the things he pictured with her. No one was going to be able to understand what he went through, and he didn't understand how things were supposed to get better.

Everything hurt. Emotionally. Physically. Mentally.

He had never felt so lost. He had never felt so upset.

Even though his mom was holding him tightly, and crying on her own as she tried to tell him that everything was going to be okay, Peter had never felt so alone.

*****

w/c: 916