Us Against The World ｡ Peter Parker [2]

33 - Lonely Shadows

Shadows danced across my ceiling but I was too stressed out to even think about sleeping. All night my mind kept racing back to what had happened on the Brooklyn Bridge and how I had watched Peter Parker follow New Goblin into the night. That had been hours ago. I had since then washed my body from the blood and sweat after being checked out by paramedics and had even cried in my father's arms before curling into bed and trying to forget about the horrors of the night.

But that was nearly impossible.

Doubt clung to my mind like early morning dew in the grass. It kept checking in that I was wide awake with flashes from years ago and snippets of tonight with Betty Brant on the bridge. It was almost like somebody was playing a cruel joke on me. A car accident on Halloween. What were the chances of that happening twice to me? I had once upon a time watched Colton bent over the steering wheel with blood dripping down his face, already dead before I could touch him. I had lived through that pain once already, and tonight I had relived it but with somebody else. A girl who only moments before hand was shamelessly flirting with me.

How had this happened again?

Chewing deeply into my bottom lip, my gaze rested on the journal I kept on my nightstand. Inside was messy scribbles about the visions that leaked into my mind when they should not. Over the course of weeks, those snippets of a future had been so unclear. It was almost impossible to work out the riddle and naturally, it got under my skin. With tonight's events still floating around my mind there was only one thing that chilled my bones and I had seen that very scene before inside a vision. The green hand. I had assumed it was linked to the old villain we had overcome nearly a full year ago. But now, I wasn't so sure. There had been doubt with Harry Osborn's strangeness lately but could he really be the villain boy behind the green mask? Could he really take up the Goblin mantle? Was he capable of that?

With too much screaming loudly in my head, I was tossing off my blankets and padding downstairs in need for some water and some time away from staring at my bedroom ceiling. The kitchen was dark and empty and I waited lonely, sitting on the bench sipping at my water while letting my socked feet dangle. I had already checked my phone too many times to count, wondering if Peter would send me a message, letting me know he was fine after following New Goblin. But sadly, he had been quiet too and I couldn't help but wonder if he was back to shutting me out of all Spider-Man business like before.

When I finally found my way back towards my room, I found my balcony doors flung open while letting in a light sprinkle of rain and wind into my room. With goosebumps chilling my skin, I moved towards the doors and glanced outside. Nobody waited outside. Sighing quietly, I closed the doors and spun back around only to find Peter Parker standing in the middle of my bedroom, soaking wet and bloodied. "Pete?"

He fell to his knees, a shaky breath leaving his lips. Blood dotted my carpet within seconds, along with rain and dirt. His head mask was removed, thrown onto my bed and his hair was slicked to his forehead as blood leaked down from his hairline. He was barely conscious, his eyes fluttering shut. "Oh, God." The words sounded so strange to my ears as I sunk to my knees in front of him. I saw his blood being pooled in the front of his suit and it left my stomach twisting in knots.

He shifted his head, a hand pressing to my cheek. "Florence...hey."

My hands pressed down to his chest, worry filling my heart. I didn't have to ask what had happened because I already knew. He had gone up against this New Goblin and apparently, had just made it out alive. "Peter, please tell me this isn't as bad as it looks?" I quietly asked, staring down at the blood staining my hands.

"It's not as bad as it looks...I really hope." Peter winched with pain as a tiny laugh tried to make its way through his chest but it just sounded like a strangled cry. Slowly, I helped him lean against my bed frame, the blood oozing in a line of red. Pain flickered through his eyes and it almost hurt too much to watch him in such pain.