Peter's Twin Sister

(28)

Olivia's POV

It happened again, the nightmare. Evreything stayed the same. The Masked Shadow in the corner, running down the hall, the laughter, the trip, all the same. But what wad on repeat as I sat in my bed as my Alarm blared so did his final words' "Now it's time for you to be a good little bug trap and be of use."

It took a moment for my eyes to adjust to the light of the morning but when they did I found that Peter wasn't in bed. To make it even weirder was that his bed is in the same state it had been when I went to sleep last night. His web-shoters aren't even on his bed side. "Um, Friday." I call out to the AI. "Did Peter get back last night?" "Yes. He is currently in the infirmary." The Womans voice responded.

With out another thought I rushed out of the room and headed twards my brother. When I reached the room the door was already opend. There he was sitting on one of the beds with an ice pack on his head, and sevrale cuts and bruises on the visbale skin. His suit was torn in places and undernithe thoese tars where gashes of some sort.

"Hey Liv. Sleep well?" He askes with his normal joking demeanor. "What happened? You look awful." I grab a rag from a stack on the counter, wetting the edge of it under the tap. "I wasn't paying attention and was caught off guard by one of the robbers I was trying to catch." This was clearly a pre-rehearsed response. Knowing my brother he will beat around the bush, not answer a single qustion.

I finished whipping off all of the dirt and blood off his wounds. They already show signs of healing, but a gash going down his right side of his abdomen is inflamed. I wash around the wound more charfaly then the others, but the skin  around it is already warm and red. With the dirt and dried blood gone it started to produce a yellowish substance that beaded at the edge of the gash.

"Thanks Olivia, but I can take care of it myself. I got this." He reached for the rag but I slapped his hand away. "It's already infected Peter. If its not treated  it will spread. And with your metabolism it will close over by the time you git around to it. He dosent fight back. My guess, to tired to protest more.

I cover the wound in a topical antibiotic, and tape a bandage over it. I check his head for whatever he was icing. Finding a raised bump on his temple, I know he has a splitting headache, so I go to the cabinets looking for pain killers.

With his wounds dressed, and being taking care of by his fast healing, my next concern comes to the forefront of my mind. He isn’t talking, rambling, or even mumbling to himself. He just sits there staring at his hands. The last time I saw him like this was the night Uncle Ben died. I know it has nothing to do with the new  scars joining the others on his body. It definitely something else. The words of our late Uncle comes to mind. 'With great power, comes great responsibility' the thing that the saying is missing is the words that haven't been muttered since his death, 'anf with great responsibility, comes a greater need for friends and family.'

He has forgotten the second half, but with the karg number of people who will be there to rimmed him is confronting in a better sweat way.

I'm an awful Sister. He deserves the pepole he's found. He deserves to have people who he can confide in, as we are both aware that I lack the ability to understand.

The two of us walk to our room together yet with the silence still think between us, as both of us are lost in thought.

-A/N a new chapter for you guys. Sorry for the delay. Happy 2024 though.