The Patient's Painkiller is a Psycholologist

Chapter 42

Wade didn’t know what to do…
One moment he had the comforting weight of a hand in his, the warmth of the other by his side-
The next hes locked in a room, no news from Peter.

“Why didnt you kill him?!” Yellow´s voice is high and frustrated “You should’ve killed the bastard that touched Petey!!”

Wade grunted as he continued to walk in circles of his room. His eyes would snap to the digital clock by his bed, red numbers tormenting him, reminding him that its been well over two hours.

“They wouldn’t update you” White’s voice is quiet but uncollected as usual, sounding hauntingly closer to a ghost “you are just his patient”

“They have to!” Wade stopped suddenly “They have to tell me he is ok!” he glared at where he imagined White would be standing if he had any physical body to use as his.

White remained quiet.

Wade began stomping around the room again.

Blood flashed in his head and as much as it would usually bring back unwanted memories- all Wade could think about was how that was Peter’s blood…
Wade had been right there and was unable to stop Peter from getting hurt. He was unable to protect Peter…

“You were right there!” Yellow shouted, loud and thunderous “You were right there Wade!”

The voice began to chant out curses and blames, claiming a thousand ways Wade could’ve avoided the whole situation to begin with, reminding him of how useless he was to Peter. Peter! Who had done everything in his power for Wadés good but Wade was unable to return the favor.

“Wade…”

Looking down at his gloved hand, Wade recalled Peter’s hand in his, wishing he hadn’t been wearing the leather gloves then even if there were many people around.

“really?” Peter whispered to himself as he watched the movie, the blue light of the projector lighting up his eyes as his eyebrows scrunched in confusion at a particular unrealistic scene. His lashes were long, beautifully curling towards his cheek as the man began to pay attention to the movie since he first sat- the tapping on his lap pausing at last.

“Wade"

Peter didnt flinch away from him, in fact, relaxed into him. Wade had been attempting to offer himself to lean against, noting how the man groaned or shifted most likely due to neck pains.
Wade allowed his hand to lift behind Peter, ready to massage the area, noting how his hand would be able to envelope the man’s thin and elegant neck easily. Wade let his hand drop.

“Wade, listen to me”

Blinking, Wade stopped to finally turned to where White would be standing to-

“AAAAAH!” He jumped back.

Before him stood a weirdly looking depressed half-child(??), dressed in white robes and- this was it. Wade was dying.

“Wade” the kid’s lips moved, voice deep and ghost-like just like the white robes they wore that draped towards their feet where they floated…Just like-

“White?”

Wade’s eyes were wide and his heart raced at the weird, almost faint body of his voice (let me repeat- V O I C E!!!). White was a pretty little thing and it annoyed Wade so much.
His whole figure was transparent, white and greys, as if someone had taken an old picture of him and he was forever left in black and white. Eyes droppy and much alike Peter’s, although a deep grey color, body petite like his daughter and his hair, that seemed to float with an unexistent wind, was curly and fluffy like, like foam caused by the waves of the sea.