If They Knew All About You

Late Night Sessions

His legs were moving even though he couldn't remember having started to walk. He didn't even know why he was walking or where he was going. It was dark. Pitch black. He... he should be able to see. What was happening? His senses were supposed to guide him, but he couldn't see. Still, he put one foot in front of the other. All this was just so wrong. He should stop walking and try to get his bearings, be more careful. Fear was starting to fill his heart, slowly creeping down his neck and spine, but his feet just kept on going forward, confident in the dark.

His hands moved up to his face but there was no mask. He felt only skin. That meant that there shouldn't be anything in his way, nothing to dull his senses, but still. All he saw was darkness.

His eyes moved up to the ceiling. He couldn't tell how much space there was above his head, which was odd and uncomfortable. Was there even a ceiling above him or was he looking at a dark sky? There were no stars but it might just be a cloudy night. Not recognizing what kind of environment he was in, felt alarming. Maybe he was in a maze of some sort.

His eyes still cast up above he squarely walked into something solid. It didn't hurt though and only slightly startled him. Then he felt someone's hands on his jacket, dragging him forward, slamming him into the ground. His mind went into overdrive, trying to focus on the person in front of him, trying to see and to react, but his body just didn't seem capable of catching up with the rapid course of events. As if he had lost all control of his body. He felt kicks hitting the side of his body, feet shuffling around him. He rolled over in pain. There were more kicks to his back, more and more all over his body. He wanted to fend off the attack, but his arms were too slow and he just couldn't get up. His head was ringing with pain and disorientation. He was dizzy, everything hurt and just as he looked up he could finally see something in the haze of darkness. The edge of a knife glistening as if hit by a single ray of light before it was buried in his abdomen.

Pain. There was so much pain. Like his mind registered every single cell being torn as the knife cut through his flesh. His mouth fell open, he felt his vocal cords vibrate but there was no sound. There should be sound. His throat ached and his ears should be ringing with his screams.

All of a sudden, he sat up. There was light all around him and he squeezed his eyes, blinking against the brightness. He was in bed in a room he didn't recognize. Panicked his hand went down to his abdomen, expecting a thick, red stream of blood but there was only fabric. He reached under his shirt and found more soft fabric. He blinked rapidly, still panting, and cast his eyes down. White bandages covered his stomach. He swallowed hard, cringing as his throat contracted and burned. The hand on his abdomen wandered up to his throat and softly rubbed at the skin as he closed his eyes again to shut out the bright light. He tried to control his breathing, keeping his eyes closed, he tried to focus on calming his nerves.

You're alright. You're fine. It's alright.

He could feel a throbbing in his throat, the stab wound pulsing with his heartbeat.

"Mr. Parker, it seems that you experienced a nightmare."

Peter's eyes flew open and he glanced up to the ceiling. Right. The Compound. He was at the Avengers Compound.

"Mr. Stark wanted me to remind you that hot drinks and sandwiches are readily available for you in the communal kitchen down the corridor to the left of your room. If you require any further assistance, please do ask."

He cleared his throat. "Thank-Thank you." Then he closed his eyes again and took a few deep breaths. Hot chocolate might not be the worst idea. He laid back on the bed and rubbed a hand across his face. It had only been a dream. Which was fine. That was to be expected. He went through something traumatic, of course, that would come with nightmares. This wasn't his first traumatic 'experience'. He knew the drill.