Water You Doing??? P2~

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ok i swear there's some fluff here u just gotta hang on and read past the 1600 words of angst first ok ily

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Peter stayed in his hotel room the rest of the night, not seeing any reason to make a reappearance.

He turned off the TV at some point before Ned came in, but the time seemed hazy. He plugged his phone in an outlet next to the bed, and once the lights had been turned off, just stared at the ceiling. It was pitch black except for the dim lights that shone through the curtains, a testament to his misery.

He rolled over on his side, and after what felt like hours, finally fell asleep. 

~

Pedro...

New York filled Peter's dreams, as beautiful as always. The breeze that blew through his curls was gentle. He was on a boat, in some lake or river, the waves lapping at the ship's edge lightly. It was dark.

The breeze picked up, rocking the boat pleasantly. It continued to speed up, and Peter held on to the rails of the boat for dear life as the rocking became more violent, tossing his damp hair around like a mop.

It was all in vain, though, for he was pitched into the murky water that was overboard.

The first thing that he noticed was that it was cold. Very cold. It soaked through his clothes and seemed to seep through his skin, making him shiver as he plummeted down into the ominous depths of the water. 

This vision, or dream, rather, was similar to the one he'd had at the pool in that he was terrified, and everything seemed real. 

He couldn't wake up.

Pedro, I'm coming for you.

Peter thrashed around, legs kicking and arms flailing. He tried to reach the surface, but he kept sinking. He couldn't hold on any more, and let out his breath. He waited until the last second, but his chest began hurting and his eyes began to burn.

Finally, Peter opened his mouth and the water poured in-

You can't escape me, Spider-Man. I'll come for everyone you love.

He closed his eyes, coughing and still trying to swim upwards. He didn't want to die, didn't want it to end like this, being tormented by his demons, but it was beginning to look like he didn't have a choice.

Peter?

His chest relaxed, and the last of the bubbles left his mouth in a flurry towards the surface. Lazily, his eyelids opened, seeing the last of the sunlight disappear.

Peter!

It was almost a relief, if he was being honest. He'd done his best, tried to stay alive, but if fate was saying otherwise, he guessed that he wasn't that mad. Peter supposed that if this was the end, he was happy with what he'd done.

He was ready.

Peter, wake up!

His eyes widened, and he gasped as he was thrown and-

He was in bed?

Peter was sitting up in bed, crying. The bed's sheets were all over the place, and his head hurt, like it had been hit against the headboard. His breathing was heavy, and adrenaline still pumped through his body.

Ned was there, standing next to his bed. He stayed quiet for a minute after Peter had awoken, but spoke up not long after.

"Peter?"

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