The Butterfly Effect: a Peter Parker Fan Fic

Part 17; The D-Word

Where there is anger, there is always pain underneath ~ Eckhart Tolle

Crap.

Well, this is a sticky situation.

"Do you... want one?" I squeeze my hands and stare at him in anticipation.

Peter looks at me in disbelief. This is then followed by him dropping the cigarette and squishing it underneath his foot. I wince as he rubs his foot on top of it and continues to glare at me. He puts his hand out and raises his eyebrow. I give him pleading eyes, but he doesn't budge. I sigh, open my bag, pull out the remaining packet and drop it in his palm. He doesn't say a word but walks over to the nearby bin and throws it in.

Still speechless, he walks back over and sits beside me on the bench. The craving for the nicotine comes over me like a wave and I clench my fists to try and fight it. The tension is thick and with someone as sweet as Peter, the tension is unbearable. But he breaks it. "Why?" he asks, turning to look at me.

I don't look back, but can see his brown eyes filled with concerned from the corner of my eye. I chew on my lower lip and hope that if I stay quiet and don't answer, he'll leave me be. But it's Peter Parker, and if he has his mind set on something, he will get it no matter what.

"You can talk to me, Raven," he says gently, "you might not trust me, but--"

Now I face him and look at him in shock. "--Peter, I do trust you. It's just that..." I exhale softly and avoid his gaze, "I don't want to say it out loud, because then it makes it real. I don't want it to be real. I just want to wake up and hope it's all a dream."

Peter smiles sympathetically, "but it's not a dream. I get it." He gets up off of the bench and takes a few steps away, leaving me with my thoughts. But already, I feel so overwhelmed and just wanting to smoke. He's the only one who makes it go away.

"Wait!" I yell out after him. He swivels on his heel and looks me in the eye hopefully. I pat the spot next to me on the bench and the corners of his mouth tilt upwards slightly. He comes back and sits next to me, leaning forward and listening intently.

I make sure to not look at him while I speak, because then I'll stop. And I don't want to stop. I want to tell Peter everything. I want to spill out my heart to him. "A few years ago, my dad got cancer and he decided to pursue his dreams in case he..." my voice trails off and I clear my throat so I can continue, "anyways, he wanted to open his own lab that studies insects." I laugh quietly, "he was always interested in insects for some weird reason. He is such an inspiration to me because back then, I dreamt of becoming a writer. But my mom thought differently. She thought he was leaving us in the cold. So one night after dad, my brother and I came back from going out, we walked in on her in bed... with my uncle."

I can see Peter frown and I bite the insides of my cheeks, urging myself forward. "Obviously, they got divorced and I'm stuck with my mom. Just by looking at her, I relive the whole memory and it really sucks. I would choose to live with dad but firstly, school. Midtown Tech is a good school and secondly, wherever I go, my younger brother goes. And he doesn't understand what mom did and he loves her more than anything. I couldn't do that to him," I take a deep breath and then continue, "and now dad's cancer is back and he can't afford chemotherapy. So it's either sell the lab or not get chemo and potentially..."

I can't bring myself to say the d-word again. Peter wraps an arm around me, but I still don't look at him. If I saw the sympathy in my eyes, the tears would be too strong and I wouldn't be able to fight them. "I'm sorry," he whispers.

"Sorry for what?" I smirk, knowing where this is heading.

He grins like a Cheshire cat, "for asking."