Senseless ↠ Peter Parker

45

(Y/N POV)

None of this makes sense.

"So..." Peter said softly, "feeling better?"

I was laying down on the couch in fury's 'lair', swaddled in blankets and pillows. After a few hours of being attended to by medics, I was finally allowed to let visitors in.

Although it was scary to face them.

"Yeah," I mumbled.

Peter sat down in the chair opposite mine, staring at the ground to make me feel less uncomfortable. Although it didn't seem to work.

"Look, Peter," I said, "I'm really sorry. I don't know what I was thinkin-"

"I understand," he cut me off, "losing Mr. Stark was hard."

"You can call him Tony," I muttered, "he would have wanted you too."

He was silent, and it made my heart hurt worse than it already did. I was so caught up in my own selfishness, that I disregarded the fact that he had feelings too. I cast him away, without telling him the real reason why I couldn't bear to look at him.

I picked up my bowl of chicken soup from the table next to me, and sipped it from the side. I pretended not to notice Peters stare, and I knew what question he had on his mind.

"Thanks," I said, wiping my mouth, "for the food."

"I didn't get you tha-"

"Not this," I clarified, "for the stuff you gave me when I was sick. Except this morning, why did you send me that one?"

"Uh- I panicked."

"Oh. What?"

"Nothing, sorry... I- nevermind."

I curled my lips inside my mouth and pressed down on them, deep in thought. My self-made habit of being professional took over, and I decided to focus on the monster.

"Did you..." I asked, "fight the elemental?"

"What?"

"The water creature. The one that got me into this mess?"

Peter stood up and made his way by the couch, kneeling down beside me and pressing the back of his hand to my forehead. I stared at him, my stomach fluttering from how close he was to me. He been closer before, but after I broke up with him, I hadn't seen him in a year.

I missed him, even though he was right in front of me. I suppose I was really missing the year I could have spent with him. Although my stubbornness refused to let me do that.

"You have a fever," he said, "have you been taking your medication?"

"How do you know I have medication?"

"Happy told me. When was the last time you took it?"

"Three months," I paused, biting my lip. He thought I was crazy, didn't he?

"You can't do that," he scolded, " you're starting to imagine things."

"What do you mean, imagine things?"

"You were talking about seeing your dad, and being in 2012 New York, and now you're talking about seeing a water creature!"

"I saw all of those things," I defended, "I felt them. They were real, Peter."

"You know they can't be real.... at least not him."

I looked at the floor, realizing he was right. A part of me knew he couldn't be there, but all I wanted was that small sliver of hope to come true. Yet, everything else seemed to be real.