Ch. 31

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**PETER**

"What's wrong?"

After changing, I'd gone downstairs again to eat dinner with aunt May, but so far I had just barely touched the food, and was just trying my best to stare holes into the table. If I stared long enough, would I eventually develop lazer eyes?

I looked up once I registered her question, and shook my head.
"Nothing, I'm just not hungry," I lied, and looked back down to the table.

I wonder what Wade was doing now.

"Peter," aunt May pressed. "I usually don't make chicken nuggets, but I made an exception today. Can you make an exception for me and tell me the truth for once?"

"It's nothing!" I exclaimed, maybe a little too aggressively. She kept staring at me with hurt in her eyes, and I forced myself to look away again.

We sat in silence for a while, and I tried to eat some food to look normal. Guilt and the need to talk to someone was eating at me from inside, though, and I couldn't hold it in much longer.

"You know," I started, still focusing my eyes on the table. "In war, even the soldiers we hail and call our heroes have taken numerous of lives. Why do we think that's okay? Why do we support the idea that in order to save you have to kill?"

"What's this about?" aunt May asked, almost sounding scared.

"Nothing, I was just watching some documentaries earlier. About the Middle East. Got me thinking."

Aunt May eyed me for a second, but she clearly couldn't think I was thinking about this because she suspected I had killed someone...right?
But then again, I kept all these secrets from her...who knew what she thought of me, in the end?

"Look at it this way;" she began. "Like you said, our soldiers save. War isn't like a discussion you have with your boss if you disagree with them. It's not usually something that can be solved with words, even though that would obviously be the best. War is a fight built on misunderstanding and disagreements, and in order to end the fight one has to take the evil down - in any way."

"But what if the evil is just a victim of their own corruption, too, and and by taking their life we're taking away their second chance?" I argued, still not satisfied with the answer.
Aunt May was quiet for a minute, thinking about an answer.

"Peter..." she said eventually. "Sometimes you just have to fight fire with fire. Not even doctors or firemen can save everyone."

I blinked.
"So you're saying it's okay to kill?"

"No." Aunt May shook her head. "It's never okay to kill. But some sacrifices are worth more than others."

"How?"

"Would you think a soldier who put down his weapons and let the people he's supposed to fight for die, is braver than one who is willing to take another man's life in order to save plenty of others?" aunt May asked. I didn't say anything to that.

Wade didn't kill Heat Lamp to save only me. Maybe he didn't realize it, or think about it, but he saved all of Heat Lamp's potentional future victims, too. I still don't think killing is the right way to fix a problem, but aunt May is right; some sacrifices are worth more than others.

I abruptly got up from my chair and headed out, making up an excuse to aunt May that I had to get some air.

I couldn't even be bothered to cover my face as I climbed up a building and started walking from roof to roof. Whoever saw a young man climbing buildings like a maniac was free to think whatever they would think of it.

I still wasn't sure about taking Wade back - not as quickly as I had last time, at least. But it would be childish of me to just sit around and be grumpy about what had happened. The best thing would be to talk - both of us needed to talk. Or at least I hoped he'd be willing to.

How had he been since I left? Had he already gone back to his old life - killing for money with his inappropriate jokes?
Or was he as heartbroken as me..?

Surprisingly, I'd prefer the first option. That would mean I hadn't hurt him too much by letting him go - or, let's be real; trying to let him go. I never wanted to hurt him.

I took my time getting to his place - walking around on the roofs trying to sort out my thoughts and feelings. They were all tangled up and were clouding my judgement. I didn't know what I'd do when I saw Wade again, but I couldn't let myself be completely ruled by emotion. I had to fit some logic and sense in there, somehow.

So, when I finally did reach his place, it was already dark outside, and I had my heart all up in my throat.

I climbed down from the roof and knocked on the door, looking around nervously as I waited.

When he didn't answer, I knocked again.

"Wade, it's me," I tried. "It's Peter."

He still didn't open the door. Was he out working, maybe?
But the door was unlocked..

I put my hand on the door handle, but hesitated. This didn't count as breaking in, right? Technically, the door was open. I just entered the house uninvited.

Yeah, that didn't sound at all much better.

"Screw it," I breathed, and opened the door.

And the first thing I saw, was Wade lying on the floor by the couch, a small puddle of blood surrounding his head, and a gun in his hand.

******

CAN WE TALK ABOUT THE GOLDEN GLOBES KISS

*hyperventilates*

this is what i breathe for

--I know these last few chapter probably have been boring, but y'all understand it's to stress the depression right? right. stay tuned. tnx for reading. peace out

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