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[WORD COUNT: 1.4k]
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
Peter wasn't sure where he was headed or even where he had come from. It was all so discolated. One minute he was living the foremost life he could have possibly moulded for himself from the shit show of a childhood, and then in the blink of an eye life turned it's back and left him the shadows where only the blind can see.
Yet, there was still one person left that he knew he could... Fall back on. He wasn't a friend, not anymore. He wasn't even someone Peter would recall being happy he met if it wasn't for you.
Ned had it coming. He'd messed up more than Peter had, and that was most defiantly stating something. It would be one hell of an understatement to say that Peter still held resentment inside of him for what Ned had done to you and your relationship with Peter, to be more specific he was outraged. However, he was your brother, and he deserved the right to know what was happening to you. As much as Peter disagreed against it.
After knocking on Ned's apartment door and waiting for a moment, finally, he answered with weary eyes and a pale face. His expression was quick to change when he saw who was standing in the doorway. Peter displayed a plane face, as to give nothing away to why he was here, and for a moment they stood there in silence staring at one another.
"What?" Ned finally spoke, breaking the weighted silence. Peter swallowed, bouncing on his feet lightly as he took a deep breath as to try and compose himself. Before leaving the compound to come and speak with your brother he'd been made able to come and see you for a moment for his own benefit, and deep down inside he somewhat wished he hadn't.
You were worse than what he had initially anticipated, and looking at you sprawled out on the bed with machines hooked into your skin, an oxygen mask compelling into your cheeks... It eliminated Peter's hopes of you ever getting better. The only movement to signify you were even still alive was the beeping heart monitor that sat at your bedside and the way your breath fogged up the plastic casing over your lips providing borrowed air. He was breaking for you.
"Can I come in?" Peter catechized warily and he snivelled, the cold biting at the underside of his nose and dried lips.
On instinct, he sank down by your bedside and took your hand in his. Although it was rare either of you partook in the little action anymore, he still remembered when you would hold his hand when you were stressed, as somewhat of a signal for him to reassure you the positives of the situation. And he was always there to calm you down. Your fingers were freezing, nothing much like what they used to be, and it was strange to feel that your grip was loose, not holding his hand back...
"I'm kinda busy, what's up?... You look like you've seen a ghost" Ned opened the door to a limited gap size, welcoming in the uninvited cold from the streets as Peter dipped his head, pinching his brow in distress.
Once Peter was certain he was alone with you in the hospital room, he shifted a little closer so he could get a better look at the face he fell in love with. Although your eyes were closed he still thought they were beautiful, wishing they were open so he could see the colour displayed behind the lids. It hurt to talk, fearing that upon words would also come tears, and he didn't want to bother disturbing you... Not that even if he screamed you would wake up...
"It's kind of important," Peter sighed, intaking all the breath he could to calm his shaking hands, digging them into his coat pockets further, "It's about Y/N"
After a few passing moments of silence, Peter built up the courage to move your arm a little closer so he could rest his cheek against your numb skin. Although it stung, from the warmth of his tears contrasting with you it was nice to know you were there at least. Still in sight and mind. As his head faced your hands, he could see the black, vile creature running through your veins like it was some kind of playground, destroying your body from the inside out. It hurt more than it should of, and lately, Peter had become somewhat of a crybaby over you. He'd done nothing but sob, weep, scream until his lungs bled for air and his cheeks were soaked with tears. All because he knew this time the blame was pinned on his shoulders.
"What about her?" Ned quizzed, brow tensing as worry filled his chest in a sudden spark of anxiety, "is she okay?" Peter shook his head in response, letting out a jagged breath into the cold night air as he finally allowed a single tear to slither down his cheek.
"She's uh... She's really ill" Peter bit his lip, averting his eyes around in an act to try and hide the hurt, "she's a-at the compound," he swallowed, face scrunching painfully tight trying to hide the tears... But it was impossible. "Ned they don't know if she's gonna make it through the night..."
With just a few simple words the boy that held the world in the palm of his hand crumbled into a thousand pieces. The friend that he had known for so long, who had since become an enemy shielded the fragile being in his arms, pulling him close as he sobbed. It hurt... A lot. Peter had lost everything but losing you... It would be like death itself.
"Peter what are you talking about?" Ned mumbled, yet it was hard to question. Peter's weight was getting heavier in his arms, soon finding the floor with his knees, cheeks a blood-red and eyes not far behind. Peter had to face the fact that it was a strong possibility that he could lose you forever. He had to come to terms with the truth. But he couldn't, he didn't want to, he was stubborn.
"I-I had s-so much planned," Peter continued as they sat on the cold concrete floor together outside Ned's apartment, still unaware of what he was talking about or what the hell was happening to you... "W-we were gonna be fine, we were fine and then t-then this happened," he cried out, hand covering his mouth to stop the shaking of his breath and body.
"Peter, calm down, you need to relax and tell me what's going on"
Peter was so caught up in the pure thought of losing you that he hadn't even come to realise that he was gradually losing himself. His breath was hot and thick, clouding up his vision as he panted on the ground like he'd ran six miles while holding his breath, limbs shaking involuntary and even in the cold he was building up a sweat.
"Peter... Peter" Ned was beginning to progressively worry, watching as his close friend clasped his chest tightly, shirt crumbling in between his fingers as he gasped for air. "Peter, look at me-"
"I can- I can't breathe!" Peter gasped, tears still streaming down his cheeks, "Ned!"
"Shit" he cursed under his breath, swallowing tightly, "Okay uh, d-deep breaths okay?" Ned was doing the best he could, but he'd never experienced something like this first hand before and it was making him just the same as Peter.
"I th-think I'm having a panic attack" Peter gasped, "for fuck sake!"
"Peter, calm down!"
Peter was trying, he was trying to hard to breathe but the strain on his chest and heart was giving him any leverage. He felt as though he were drowning under the weight of the world, a thick cotton ball stuffed in the back of his throat soaking up the spit on his tongue turning it bone dry. He was scared over it all, hands numb as they gripped onto Ned, gripping the one thing keeping him grounded.
"In through your nose," Ned instructed, "out through your mouth, okay?"
Peter nodded shakily, loosening his grip as his lungs began to expand to their full capacity again, slowly down his pulsing heart to its regular pace.
"Now please," Ned sighed, turning Peter to look him in the eye, "tell me what the fuck is going on"
Sorry it was so short! I've been so busy lately with Christmas and all! Next update will be much longer! Love ya'll!
