#& also normally i am not scared of spiders at all. i just saw sudden movement and freaked out

[mell0bee]

my final presentation for plant bio is over the 10 mins time limit bc in the middle of it i saw a spider and i cant be bothered to rerecord it bc its 10 mins long plus however long zoom takes to process the recording and the assignment is late already and i want to go to sleep. so i just. submitted my presentation fully with the knowledge that halfway through i go "AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHhhhhhh oh sorry there was a spider. i lost my place. where was i. ANYWAY" and then i had to email the professor like "hey what up prof yes i know the presentation is over the time limit this is bc i saw a spider and got distracted i am very sorry please do not dock points"

[petertingle-yipyip]

Where Happiness Begins - Peter Parker

Chapter Five - Don’t Throw It Away

//WHB Masterlist //

//Series Inspo: @cxptain-capsicle @stuckonspidey // Series Tags: @writingsbychlo @mc225g @fandom-princess-forevermore @peterparker-glee-other @olliekookie @rosegoldhome @chubsluda @missmulti @eternaleviee @freerebel @disgustangg //

Word Count: 4,427

Pairing: Peter Parker x Stark!Reader

Summary: It seemed like everything was going good with Y/N and her new friend, Peter. But Peter makes what could be the biggest mistake of his young life. Even though Y/N warns him, don’t throw it away, does Peter do it anyways?

“How was the internship?” Ned asked happily as he plopped down next to Peter at their usual lunch table.

“It was cool.” Peter answered, carefully choosing his words. He knew he couldn’t tell Ned about what the internship exactly consisted of, but he could be vague. “I met Tony Stark and his daughter.”

“You got to meet Tony and Y/N Stark? They’re like, living legends!” Ned said with excitement. “Did you see their suits?”

“I caught a glimpse of them.” Peter shrugged. “They’re working on some cool stuff.”

“Awesome!” Ned exclaimed quietly.

“Yeah, and Y/N said most of the work would be done at home but I could call her if I ever wanted to work at the facilities. It’s kind of an on-call deal as to when I’ll be here or there.”

“You have her number!?” Ned practically shouted.

“Keep your voice down!” Peter hushed him. “She said to call when I need something.”

“Dude, just call her.” Ned said to Peter. “You’ve been staring at what I assume to be her phone number forever.”

“I can’t just call her for no reason!” Peter argued. “She told me to call if I need anything. And I don’t need anything at the moment.”

“Well you need to talk to her. And this is getting embarrassing.”

“She hasn’t reached out to me since I last saw her. Do you think maybe she doesn’t want to talk? Maybe it was an empty gesture.”

“She wouldn’t have given you her phone number if she didn’t want to  talk to you.” Ned sighed in disappointment. As much as he loved Peter, he knew his friend was a dumbass. “Maybe you should start texting Y/N instead of whoever else you’re always texting.”

“I don’t text anyone!” Peter defended quickly, suddenly anxious that Ned had seen something he shouldn’t have.

“That’s the problem, Peter!” Ned sad, throwing his hands forward. “You’re not texting anyone! You have Y/N Stark’s phone number and you’re not doing anything about it. She’s a genius, dude. Smarter than you even. And you’re letting this opportunity fall through your fingers.”

“I’m not losing anything.” Peter shook his head, turning his attention elsewhere while Ned continued to talk. It’s not that he didn’t want to talk to Ned about you, but he knew he couldn’t talk to Ned about you the way he wanted to. He wanted to talk about how powerful you really were, how when you’re in your suit you act like you’re unstoppable, and how if he didn’t know any better he’d believe you were. Maybe he did believe that after all.

“What is she like in person? Is she funny? Sarcastic? I bet she’s confident, just like her dad. But not she rules the world, just like she knows she’s badass. I mean, she’s the youngest Avenger. She has to have some confidence, right? Nah, she definitely has to know sh-”

“Did Liz get a new top?” Peter interrupted Ned.

“Liz?” Ned asked, confused by the sudden change in topic. “No, we’ve seen that before. Just never with that skirt.”

“Should probably stop staring before it gets creepy though.” Peter said dreamily, momentarily forgetting all about Y/N and being sucked back into his crush on Liz.

“Too late.” Michelle announced from the other end of the table. Both boys turned to her quickly. “You guys are losers.”

“Then why do you sit with us?” Ned asked carefully while Peter made a gesture of offense.

“Cause I don’t have any friends.” She answered plainly. “Besides, how are you going to stare at Liz while talking about Y/N Stark?”

“You heard that?” Peter asked in a loud whisper.

“I’m pretty sure everyone did.” She replied using the same tone. “You’re not very quiet, Parker. If you have her number, just use it. What’s the worst that’ll happen?”

The bell rang after that comment, sending all of them to their classes. Peter tried to push through the rest of the day like normal. Finish class, go to decathlon practice, go on patrol. That’s the way his days always went. But for some reason, he couldn’t stop thinking about what Michelle had said at lunch.

How are you going to stare at Liz while talking about Y/N Stark?

It wasn’t like he was talking about you in any way other than a friend. You two were friends, right? New friends, but still friends. You had saved him a few times in Germany, and he helped take care of you afterwards. Cause that’s what friends do. That is what friends do, right?

The day seemed to drag until he finally got to decathlon practice. Peter didn’t want to quit and bail on the trip to DC, but he also knew he had to stay and be Spiderman. He had to make sure you and Mr. Stark didn’t regret giving him the suit. He had to take his responsibility as Spiderman much more serious now.

“Let’s move on to the next question.” Liz said to his other teammates. “What is the heaviest naturally occurring element?”

Peter wasn’t really listening to anything after that. It was obviously Uranium. He had to focus on explaining why he wasn’t going to Washington with his team.

“Peter… It’s Nationals.” Mr. Harrington tried to reason with the boy. “Is there no way you can take one weekend off?”

“I can’t go to Washington because if Mr. Stark needs me, or if Y/N Stark needs me, then I have to make sure that I’m here.” Peter said carefully.

“You’ve never even been in the same room as Tony Stark.” Flash commented from the back. “Let alone the same room as Y/N. She’s a total babe, no way she’s hanging with you.”

“Wait, what’s happening?” Peter’s teammate spoke up from the stage.

“Peter’s not going to Washington.” A teammate said from the floor.

“What?” The first teammate said as Abraham rang his bell. “No, no, no, no, no, no.”

“Why not?” Abraham asked.

“Really?” Liz asked sadly. “Right before Nationals?”

“He already quit marching band and robotics lab.” Michelle added casually, causing everyone to turn to her. “I’m not obsessed with him, just very observant.” She defended herself.

“Flash, you’re in for Peter.” Liz said over his shoulder, giving Peter one last look.

“Oof, I don’t know. I gotta check my calendar first. I got a hot date with Black Widow coming up.” Flash retorted, giving Peter a look.

Peter had to bite his tongue to keep from snapping on Flash and exposing his secret. He remembered the joke you made on the ride back to the states. He let a small smile grace his face as he thought of your laugh, your smile, your bright and hopeful eyes. He couldn’t believe how lucky he was to have you in his life.

Usually, patrols were fairly simple. Stop a mugging. Help an old lady across the street. He even helped someone get their bike back. He had given directions, and someone even bought him a churro. Until the ATM robbery. That night was so intense Peter wasn’t sure if he remembered it right.

There were weapons he had never seen before. He wasn’t sure he was going to come out of there on top. But he was Spiderman. He had to. That also happened to be the night Ned discovered Peter’s secret. Peter had to explain everything, which only gave him more stress than keeping his secret. He was scared that if Ned knew, he’d be in danger. But no one knew that Ned knew. So Ned would be okay, right?

He had to call you that night.

He held the phone to his ear as he laid in his bed that night. Instead of falling asleep or catching up on homework, he just stared at the ceiling and talked to you. “Hey, Y/N.” He smiled when you finally answered.

“So what are we calling this, exactly?” You asked your dad as F.R.I.D.A.Y. showed you blueprints for a new Spiderman suit. You were finally able to start easing back into your normal activities. You were medically cleared of your concussion, your ankle had dulled to an ache when you stood on it for too long, and your fracture and ribs were still healing. Movement of your upper body was less painful and you could breathe deeper without a sharp sensation.

“I don’t know. Iron Spider?” Tony shrugged, sliding across the lab in his desk chair to be by your side. “Has a nice ring to it.”

“And what about the suit we just gave him not too long ago?” You questioned, leaning on your dad’s shoulder.

“I have a new upgrade every so often. Same goes for the kid. You could also upgrade your own suit as often as you like. You just don’t.” Tony shrugged again, pushing you off by your forehead. “You designed his sensory filters so you’re on that first. Pull up your old designs and upgrade them.”

“I don’t even know how I did them, honestly.” You said, scrolling through the projected files to find your Project Parker files. “I’m pretty sure F.R.I.D.A.Y. did most of the work.”

“Well, figure it out.” Your dad with an eyeroll. “I’m staring to doubt if you’re really my daughter.”

“Haha, very funny.” You said sarcastically. “How am I supposed to upgrade these? I mean, just how clear does he need to see?”

“You know him better than I do, Y/N/N.”

“Yeah, but the upgrades are your idea.” You muttered. “Besides, Peter said they were perfect as they are.”

“Either way, they have to be redesigned.” Tony waved a hand dismissively.

“And why’s that?”

“New mask means new aesthetic design means reconfigured to a new shape.”

You and your dad spent hours flipping through designs. Some of them were nonsense scraps, things that you knew were unfathomable in the few hours you had to put it together that night, but now could be played around with. One of your personal favorites were the four additional appendages that are multi-functioned. Some things needed an overhaul from the start, something you weren’t happy with when you gave him the suit in general.

“Can we change the color?” You asked suddenly.

“Blue and red was your call, doofus.” Tony laughed.

“I know, but if he’s the Iron Spider now, shouldn’t his colors match if not coordinate with Iron Man?”

“Incoming call on Ms. Stark’s cell phone.” F.R.I.D.A.Y. announced before your dad could answer.

“Who is it?” You asked, not letting your attention shift from your past designs.

“Petey.”

“Petey?” Your dad asked with wiggling eyebrows. “Since when do you call him Petey?” Tony laughed.

“Answer it please. And put it on speaker. Thank you, F.R.I.D.A.Y.”

“Of course, Ms. Stark.”

“Hey, Y/N.” Peter said, the smile evident in his voice.

“Peter Parker, as I live and breathe. I was starting to think you didn’t want to talk to me.” You laughed lightly, noting a small flaw in the mask design. “What’s up?”

“Nothing much. Just thinking.”

“About?”

“There’s a trip to Washington this weekend with the decathlon team.”

“Cool. Take lots of pictures.” You said aimlessly, expanding your lens designs.

“I’m probably not going.” He chuckled nervously.

“Just go to Washington, kid.” Tony interjected.

“Mr. Stark, hey. Hi. How- how are you?” Peter said quickly.

“I didn’t get a ‘how are you’ and I’m a bit upset about it.” You teased.

“Look, we said keep your extracurriculars up. Didn’t we?” You asked, him humming an ‘mhmm’ in response. “That includes decathlon.”

“But what if something happens here?” Peter asked as he wandered aimlessly around the room. “I mean, I’ve been texting Happy but he’s been ignoring me.”

“Yeah, we know.” Tony laughed. “He’s been sending us screenshots of your messages. Congrats on the churro, by the way. Anyways, listen kid, we didn’t bring you with us to Germany for you to sit here and obsess over things you don’t even know are going to happen.”

“Dad’s right, Pete.” You agreed, swiping your design towards your dad. “Are you using the new nanotech for this suit? Cause if so, we could use nanite lens instead of expandable?” You asked Tony before turning attention back to Peter. “You can’t sit here and put your life on hold because of Spiderman, because of this internship. Your team is depending on you, aren’t they?”

“I guess. I mean, Flash is gonna stand in for me. And- and Mr. Harrington understands.” Peter tried to reason with you.

“So that means Mr. Harrington is very disappointed but knows he can’t force you to go.” You shook your head. “Peter, you’re brilliant but also so dumb.”

“Hey!”

“It’s true, kid.” Tony agreed. “Are the lenses retrofitted?”

“Custom cut. Mask was fit to the lens.” You shook your head. “Go to Washington. We’ll handle whatever is going on that you don’t want to leave for.”

“There’s nothing specific.” He tried to defend himself.

“Yes, there is. You’re a terrible liar.” You smiled slightly.

“No, I’m not.” He argued. Your silence was enough pressure and he caved. Sighing heavily, he continued. “There were these guys tonight, and I think they had like, alien weapons.”

“We’ll look into it.” Tony said carefully, looking at you with an interested but confused look. “Go to sleep, Peter. We’ll talk later. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

“But don’t do anything he would do.” You joked.

“There’s a small gray area. And that’s where you operate.” Tony explained.

“Night, Petey.” You said, directing your focus on how to reconfigure the fit of the nanosuit versus the original. “How is this going to work? The mediums are completely different, there’s no way to transfer the program.” You asked your dad, who leaned over to see what you were looking at. Tony reached over your shoulder to touch and adjust your designs, but you smacked his hand away.

“Night, Y/N.” Peter said softly before hanging up. He knew you and your dad would look into it, but he also couldn’t sit by and do nothing.

As the week went on, things with those ATM robbery guys escalated. Peter met a guy with wings, chased the guys, found out they were selling the weapons, and decided on going to Washington. Only Peter wasn’t going to Washington for the decathlon. He had put a tracker on one of the guys and saw that’s where they were headed. He had to go and do something. Even though Mr. Stark told him to not worry about the guy with the wings when he had fished him out the lake, Peter didn’t have it in him to let something this big go. It was happening in his own neighborhood. It was his job!

“I thought you didn’t want to go to Washington.” You said when Peter answered the phone as he rode the bus with the team. “What changed your mind?”

“You did?”

“Are you asking me or telling me?”

“Telling you?”

“Why did you bring the suit?” You asked plainly. “You’re going for decathlon. You don’t need it.”

“I just didn’t want May to find it if I left it.” Peter lied.

“Hmm.” You paused, thinking about whether or not Peter would be telling the truth. “So I’m not going to see any news stories about Spiderman in Washington?”

“Course not. Don’t be silly, Y/N.”

“I’m trusting you, Peter.” You said through a sigh. “Don’t make me regret it.”

“You won’t.” Peter smiled in relief. He wasn’t completely sure you’d believe him but he was glad you didn’t question him anymore.

Later that night in the hotel room, Peter and Ned had the suit laid out on the bed. He had connected the suit to Ned’s computer, while Peter had a flashlight in his mouth as he tried to find the tracker. Ned sat with the laptop, watching the programs and code display themselves on the screen.

“Peter… Why are we removing the tracker from your suit?” Ned asked casually as Peter worked.

“Uh.” Peter said before taking the light from his mouth.  “Because I gotta follow these guys to their boss before they move again. And I don’t really want Mr. Stark to know about it.”

“What about Y/N? Why not tell her what you’re doing and she can talk to her dad?” Ned suggested.

“Y/N wouldn’t want me to do it either.”

“So you’re lying to Ironman now? And his daughter?”

“No, no, no. Not Lying.” Peter tried to explain. “They just don’t really get what I can do yet.”

Carefully, Peter peeled the tracker off the fabric. “Gotcha.” He said triumphantly as he held it up. “Alright, have fun tracking this lamp.” He said, sticking the tracker to the nearest lampshade.

Meanwhile, you were eating dinner with your family when this was happening. A small beep in your bracelet drew your attention.

-Tracker removed from Project Parker suit. Immediate maintenance required. Last known location: Washington, D.C.-

“What the hell?” You mumbled, swiping the notification away. You’d look into it later.

Back in Washington, Peter wasn’t quite done toying with his suit.

“There’s a ton of other subsystems in here.” Ned commented, scrolling through the code.

“Hmm?” Peter mumbled. He had remembered something you had said about there being more to what the suit could do but he never really gave that much thought.

“But they’re all disabled by the Training Wheels protocol.” Ned snickered.

“What?” Peter said quickly, jumping to see what Ned was seeing. “The Training Wheels Protocol?” Suddenly, he remembered something you had said in Germany.

Once the Training Wheels are off, I’ll show you what that suit is really capable of.

“Turn it off.” Peter demanded, now offended, He knew there was more his suit was capable of, but he never thought he had needed training wheels.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Ned shook his head with a small laugh. “I mean, they’re probably blocked for a reason.”

Peter groaned before pushing himself up and climbing onto the other bed. “C’mon man. I don’t need training wheels.” He huffed and jumped in a circle on the bed. “I’m just sick of him treating me like a kid all the time. It’s not cool.” He pouted.

“But you are a kid.” Ned countered.

“Yeah, a kid who can stop a bus with his bare hands.”

“Peter, I just don’t think this is a great idea.” Ned tried again. “I mean, what if this is illegal?”

“Look, please. This is my chance to prove myself.” Peter said, kneeling by Ned’s bedside. “I can handle it, Ned, come on.”

“I really don’t think this is a good idea.” Ned told his friend.

“The guy in the chair.” Peter whispered, hoping it would be enough to convince him.

“Don’t do that.” Ned breathed with a shake of his head.

“C’mon.” Peter pushed.

Ned hesitantly sighed, but deactivated the Training Wheels protocol. The suit flashed, blue lights running the seams. A new alert was sent to your bracelet, interrupting dinner yet again.

“Again?” You scrunched your eyebrows.

“What’s the issue?” Tony asked, gesturing to your flashing bracelet.

-Training Wheels Protocol has been disabled at off-site location. Confirmation required. Stark Industry Key Identifier not entered. Immediate attention required. All systems are now active.-

“You’re kidding.” You mumbled as your bracelet flashed an alert. “I’m going to kill him.”

“What’s wrong, hon?” Your mom asked as you shook your head.

“Huh? Oh, nothing. Just a notification. Can I be excused for a minute?” You asked her and your dad.

“Sure.” Tony nodded. “Make sure you come back. It’s your turn to clear the table and do dishes.”

“Yeah, yeah.” You waved your hand before stepping into the hall.

“Y/N, oh my gosh, hi!” Liz answered your call. “I haven’t heard from you in forever!”

“I know! Sorry, everything has just been so busy around here.” You laughed lightly.

“I bet. With the new internship you have set up with Peter. That was really cool of you to do that for him, by the way.”

“Speaking of Peter, he went with the decathlon team, right?”

“Yeah. I think he’s still in his room. The rest of us are at the pool.”

“He didn’t wanna go with you guys?” You asked, checking the tracker on Peter’s suit. It still said the hotel. “Or did you not invite him?”

“Of course I invited him.” She said, hearing a hint of annoyance in her voice, annoyed that you’d even suggest she’d leave him out. “He just hasn’t come down. Why?”

“He’s not answering me. I thought maybe he was with you guys.” You shook your head again in disbelief. “It’s not important. I can talk to him when he gets back.”

“Well, maybe Ned can get a hold of him. Here, let me hand him the phone.” She said. Before you could protest, you could hear muffled voices within the transfer.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y., I need you to record this conversation with Ned Leeds. Discreetly, please. Send the file to my Project Parker folder. And keep it locked. My passcode only.” You said quickly. The system beeped and the recording began.

“Hi, Ned Leeds?” You asked when you heard a male voice through the phone. “Y/N Stark. How’s Washington?”

“Holy shit.” Ned sighed.

“Yeah, listen. I need to talk to Peter. He’s not answering my calls.” You said plainly.

“Well, the thing about that is- He’s not really around right now.” Ned said nervously.

“What do you mean, not around?” You pressed.

“Well not like he’s gone. He’s here. In Washington. With us. He’s just busy?”

“Busy doing what? I swear to God I will go to that hotel right now and beat the information out of you myself, Leeds.” You said, your patience running thin. “You’re going to tell me what that boy is up to. Everything that you know, do I make myself clear?”

“He’s just stretching his legs, getting the hang of some new resources.” Ned hurried. “He’s not doing anything wrong.”

“Then why are you so nervous?”

“I’m not nervous!” He replied quickly. “And Peter is fine. He’s just upgraded his old programs.”

“Upgraded?” You paused for a moment, wanting to check something. “Hold on, Ned. Don’t go anywhere.”

“F.R.I.D.A.Y., I need to see Peter’s live feed. Send me the video from the Baby Monitor protocol.” You said, watching your phone show you what Peter was seeing. You saw him in an old storage building, where scraps from the past battles were stored. You watched as he filtered through different web options, vocalizing small questions and comments as he went. “Son of a bitch.”

“Uh, Y/N?” Ned said, pulling your attention back to him.

“Did you know?”

“What?”

“The suit, you moron. You two are bunking together. Did. You. Know?” You asked carefully. You could feel the anger bubbling in the pit of your stomach. You were beyond pissed.

“Yeah, I knew.” He said hesitantly.

“Did you help?” You challenged. “That’s a complex, multi-million dollar suit. It’s not something that can just be hacked whenever. So I’m going to ask one last time. Did you, Ned Leeds, help hack the suit?”

“It may have been from my computer.” He slowly confessed. “I told him it was a bad idea. I didn’t want to do it but he kept saying I was his guy in the chair. I told him it was probably illegal, and now we’re going to jail. Aren’t we? Oh my god.” Ned said in a panicked voice.

“You have better have a good explanation as to why before I kill you both.” You hung up quickly before dialing Peter.

“Would you like me to save the audio file, Ms. Stark?” F.R.I.D.A.Y. asked as you waited for Peter to answer.

“No, just delete it.” You sighed. “Ned doesn’t need to get dragged into this more than he already is. He obviously didn’t want anything to do with it. Peter’s the one to blame.”

No answer.

“Peter Parker, I know you are not ignoring my calls. I know you are not that stupid.” You said plainly. “And if you are, you are going to be in deep shit with my dad. You’re lucky I got the notification that the suit was tampered with and not Tony. Actually, I know you’re not ignoring me because I saw your feed. You’re in a goddamn Damage Control Deep Storage Vault. God, Peter, how could you be so stupid? So disrespectful? So irresponsible. And you had the audacity to bring your friend, Ned, into it? How stupid are you, honestly. And to top it all off, Ned didn’t want to hack the suit. He didn’t want anything to do with it and yet here we are, two notifications from your suit interrupting dinner.

“That is a multi-million dollar suit and you’re taking it apart like it’s a toy. Maybe it was a mistake to let you keep the suit. There was absolutely no need to take it with you to Washington and you know that. Trying to make sure May didn’t find it, my ass. Now, you’re ignoring me, with a highly advanced, highly equipped piece of Stark tech, doing God knows what with it. Why did you need to do it, Peter? Why? What are you trying to prove?

“I swear to God, the moment you are home with Aunt May, I am going over there and I’m taking that damn suit back. I guess you weren’t ready for that kind of power. I’m serious, Parker. Did you even think about the consequences of what tampering with that suit could mean? What if what you were doing had damaged the suit? How were you going to explain that to me and my dad?

“There’s no way to explain how the tracker had been removed and the Training Wheels protocol was disabled. Those things have to be physically altered. I made it that way on purpose, that way someone had to do something about it. You had to earn the freedom and liberties that that suit has to offer. But you went ahead and took it into your own hands and toyed with the suit.” You had to pause to take a deep breath. You had been talking so much and so fast that your mouth had gone dry.

“Look, I’m pissed. Tony is going to be even more pissed when he finds out. And I’m not keeping this from him. I hope you didn’t expect me to. You really disappointed me this weekend, Peter Parker. I seriously cannot believe you’d be so stupid.” You spoke slower. “Call me once you’re back. We need to talk.”

[wacem]

Alone in the Dark

An Until Dawn fic by Wacem

Read it here or check it out on AO3, where everything is definitely formatted properly, because I suck at Tumblr.

Chapter 1

Chris --- 5:35 AM 

Tunnel to Sanatorium

Chris stumbled back a few steps and craned his neck to watch Sam clamber up the wall like a spider monkey. He shook his head. He'd never understand how a person could make that look so effortless. Hell, he'd never understand the appeal of rock-climbing in the first place. He supposed it was useful in circumstances like these, but heights just weren't his thing. At all.

“Guess it’s just you and me now, A--”

He turned around and stopped dead in his tracks. He thought Ash was right behind him, but his eyes met nothing but darkness. With the agonizingly slow pace he'd been able to keep up, he hadn’t even considered the possibility that she wouldn’t catch up. Hell, that's the only reason he hadn't waited for her back at the manhole. She had just groused at him for moving too slowly, so he figured he might as well get a head start. That way, she could overtake him, and no time would be wasted waiting for his crippled ass to keep up.

Only she hadn't. 

And now there wasn't so much as a glimmer of reflection on a rock to indicate her existence.

"Ash?" he'd meant to call out, but it came out as more of a trembling whisper. 

The wendigo got her. The thought sent a cold dagger through his heart and made his legs feel heavy. No. Not her. I've already lost enough tonight. Please, God, not her, too. His throat tightened, and unwelcome tears stung his already aching eyes. 

"Ash??" His voice tore through the lump in his throat and cracked. It sounded way too shrill to his ears, and the way it echoed through the caves filled his soul with dread. As far as he knew, the wendigo could hear just fine; it was just its  vision that was funky. Biting his lips to hold in the rising panic, he took a shaky step forward. The pain in his ankle, objecting to having been temporarily forgotten, vigorously reminded him of its existence. He grunted softly. 

Images of the stranger, alive one second, gone the next, flooded his mind for the umpteenth time since it happened. Only this time, it was Ashley's body dropping to its knees. Ashley's head thudding heavily into the snow while he stood paralyzed with fear, clutching the stranger's shotgun uselessly as the air filled with the monster's shrieks. First, the wendigo, he'll render you immobile. Then he strips the skin off of your entire body, piece by piece.

Nononono. She can't be dead. I'd have heard something, right? Screams or something. I didn't hear anything, so maybe she just got lost. 

"Y-yeah… yeah... she just got lost," he murmured to himself, hoping its utterance would make it true. Chris continued limping toward where he'd seen her last.  He'd noticed a path branching off to the left on the way here. Maybe she took that by mistake. She did have a notoriously wretched sense of direction, and they hadn't exactly marked their passage. 

As he moved, his mind wandered to the time he and Ash had gone to see Star Trek Into Darkness in IMAX. There wasn't an IMAX theater in their hometown, so they'd had to drive all the way to the city-- an hour away. Chris had just gotten off an overnight double and was utterly wiped, so he'd given Ash the keys to his car and let her drive. He'd figured that way he could catch some z's on the way up and actually be conscious for the movie. Big. Mistake. Next thing he'd known, Ashley's sheepish voice was waking him up saying, "We're here!" When he'd looked at the clock, he saw that they were four and a half hours late for the movie. They couldn't even catch a later showing! Turned out Ash had driven them to every single movie theater in the city-- during rush hour traffic, no less! --before she finally found the one their tickets were for. It wasn't a total loss; they were able to get a refund on their tickets, since they weren't torn or anything, and they tried again (successfully) the following week, thanks to Chris' superior mastery of navigation. Now that he thought of it… that had been the first time they'd really gone anywhere together without someone else tagging along. Purely coincidentally (he told himself), that was also when Chris first noticed how very, very frantically the butterflies fluttered their wings in his stomach whenever he was near her. 

After that day, she was firmly forbidden from ever driving them anywhere again. From then on, her official job on road trips was to be the in-flight entertainment. This normally took the form of her reading one of her books aloud like a live-performance audiobook. It was a duty she solemnly accepted and performed with gusto; she even did voices for the different characters. The memory made soft laughter rise up out of him like a bubble, and, like a bubble, it abruptly vanished at the thought that he might never hear her silly voices again. 

Oh, God, Ash. Please be okay. I could probably handle losing Emily and Jess… maybe even Josh. But not you. 

Emily's face, pale and gray in the light of the monitors, mouth drawn open in a silent scream, dark blood oozing from the hole where her eye had been. The contents of her blown-out skull adorning the wall behind her head like a macabre rorschach. The image he'd been fighting to suppress since it happened hit him like a freight train. He doubled over and retched the nothing he'd had for dinner onto the cave floor. The sudden shift in balance irked his ankle and made him stagger against a rock, aggravating the tender spot in his ribs and jarring his aching jaw. He groaned. As he pushed himself away from the wall, he wiped at a tickle under his nose, and his hand came away bloody. Great. His nose was bleeding again. 

Shit, he was a mess. 

At least his nose wasn't broken. Or… he didn't think it was broken. His jaw, like the proverbial fat lady, sorta dominated the chorus of facial maladies, and he'd had other things on his mind when he'd rammed his face full-speed into that damned tree. Like, for instance, not getting eviscerated by the wendigo hot on his heels. You know… something that could be happening to Ash right now?

Come on, Ash, where are you? Please be okay. 

Ignoring the pain in his ankle, he picked up his pace. It wasn't long before he came upon the drop he'd completely forgotten about. Only, going this direction, it wasn't a drop. It was a climb. A string of curses and obscenities ran circles around his brain. The ledge wasn't low, coming up just above his shoulders. Even his attempts to gently lower himself when coming the other way had yielded a sharp pain in his ankle on landing. How the ever-loving fuck was he supposed to get back up? "Dammit, Sam…" he muttered. "Remind me why you left the gimp to navigate these tunnels alone?" Of course, she’d been just as oblivious to Ash’s absence as he was, but that was beside the point.

Why had they even come here? Something about Mike and the sanatorium and the wendigo and needing to warn him about something and hell if he knew. He hadn't read the journal that had Ash and Sam up in a tizzy. Nobody thought to volunteer to him any information they'd found out, and frankly… he'd been too relieved at the prospect of getting away from Emily's body to ask questions. Now he regretted not asking. The decision to leave the safe room might have gotten Ash killed, and he needed to know it was for a worthy cause. At this point, though, even if it was for a worthy cause, if it was down to a choice between Mike's life and Ash's… well… was that even really a choice? Especially since Mike just…

A deafening bang, reinforcing the ringing in his ear. Ghostly face, mouth stretched open in a scream cut short. Dark blood trickling down from the blackness of her eye socket. 

"Oh, God…" Chris stumbled against the wall blocking his way, using it for support as his lungs tried to explode out of his aching chest. His body rocked back and forth; the arm holding the flashlight hugged his ribs in place, while his free hand clapped over his mouth to hold back his sobs. The burns near his mouth shouted their protest, and he stifled a moan. 

Oh, God, how had this night gotten so fucked? This was supposed to be a good night! A night of remembrance and catharsis. A night of reconciliation and rekindling estranged friendships. A psycho? He could handle that. It was horrible, but he at least understood a psycho. But curses? Monsters?? How do you fight something like that? How do you escape something that moves that fast? How do you protect someone from a fear so pervasive that it makes them murder their own friends? 

Oh, shut up with that 'they' and 'them' bullshit. You helped, Christopher. By sitting there and stoking that fear, you might as well have pulled the trigger yourself. 

No, no, no. He hadn't wanted Emily to die! 

You should have done something, then. Should have helped Sam calm them down. Should have disarmed Mike. You could have forced him to stop. Overpowered him. Something! You call yourself a man, but you just sat there like a pussy and let it happen. Just like with the stranger!

His head was swimming, and his ribs were on fire. Somewhere along the way, he'd sunken down to his knees, still rocking. He was hyperventilating. 

Let's face it, Chris. You didn't do anything, because you didn't want to do anything. You were just as afraid as Mike and Ash, and just as willing to sacrifice Emily to save your own ass. 

"I didn't think he was going to shoot her." The words were rapid, small, and gasping, barely audible. Mike hadn't shot Josh. He’d bitched at Chris for even thinking he would. So why would he shoot Emily? It was a bluff. Had to be. Just to scare her out of the room. Chris wasn't about to ruin Mike's bluff again. 

Her small legs falling from the desk, limp and lifeless, making her whole body jerk when they stopped short of the floor. Her head settling on the wall beneath the Jackson Pollock pattern of her blood and brains was the last movement she'd ever make. Chris squeezed his eyes shut, but the image persisted. 

How is that even better? You didn't think Mike would shoot her? But you were perfectly content to let him sacrifice her to that thing out there. You've seen what it does. You, more than anyone else here, know that compared to that? The bullet was a mercy. You didn't care if or how she died. You just didn't want to see it happen, you selfish asshole. You killed her, and you killed her for no damn reason. 

"We didn't know, we didn't know, we didn't know…" His hands and face were tingling. Shit, he was about to pass out. Now was not the time for this; he had to find Ash. He forced himself to take a deep breath in. The pain in his side kept him from holding it as long as he'd have liked, and it all came out in a pitiful sigh. But his head felt clearer, at least. He repeated this exercise until his thoughts stopped spiraling, sliding his free hand up under his glasses to wipe away the tears blurring his eyes. 

Now wasn't the time for self-recrimination or excuses. Ash was in here somewhere. The wendigo might have her. He keeps you alive and aware and feasts on your organs, one piece at a time. He couldn't let that happen to her. Melting down in a cave wasn't going to help anyone, and Chris refused to have another death on his conscience because he was too wrapped up in himself to lift a finger to stop it. Especially not Ashley’s.

He sighed, pushing himself back onto his good leg and regarded the ledge. How the hell was he supposed to climb this? Even at the best of times, he was a pathetic climber. He'd damn near broken his neck trying to clamber over the wall by the broken gate at the bottom of the mountain. And now? With a bum ankle, a jacked up face, probably a concussion, and whatever the hell was going on with his ribs? He groaned, grabbing the ledge and hoisting himself up until the edge was under his armpits. His legs scrabbled uselessly for purchase on the sheer rock. His ribs protested strenuously. He was just about to lose his grip when his right foot found an outcropping and pushed off hard enough to get his left leg over the edge. But the momentary victory was promptly shat upon by the blinding agony in his ankle. 

"Aggghh!" he hissed "Ow ow ow ow ow ow owwwww!!" Each syllable gave him strength as he pulled himself up the rest of the way and rolled over onto his good side. He curled into a ball of misery and grabbed his throbbing leg. "Shitshitshitshitfuckingshiiiiiiit!"

When the pain died back down to a dull throb, he slowly pulled himself up to his feet. It was more miserable than ever to put weight on his ankle, but it still held him, so he hobbled onward. Had to be getting close to the branch-off now.

He felt, more than saw, the side tunnel open up to his right. The air was suddenly less close, and through the passage, the wind sang a soft and haunting song. Dripping water served as percussion. It vaguely harmonized with the ringing in his ear. He flicked his flashlight over to the opening. 

"Ash?" His own voice startled him, deafeningly loud against the cavern's subtle symphony. What if the wendigo could hear? What if he was just broadcasting his presence?

C'mon, dude. Pull yourself together. Your nerves are fried. 

He thought maybe he heard something further down the side passage, but he wasn't sure what. It was hard to tell over the persistent ringing in his ear, but… it could have been Ash. Then again, didn't the stranger also say the wendigo could mimic human voices? If that was the wendigo, then Ash could already be dead, and he'd be walking to his own demise. Even if the thing hadn't gotten around to killing her yet, a rescue attempt would almost certainly end in his death. He wasn't even armed. 

But if it wasn't the wendigo… if Ash had fallen somewhere and couldn't get back up or something. If she was hurt, if she was calling for help... could he forgive himself for not checking?

Gingerly, he opened his mouth and felt the swollen skin from his cheek to his adam's apple pull tight in protest. The right hinge of his jaw popped enthusiastically. That was new. 

Ah, what the hell. He'd already sacrificed himself for Ash once tonight. Why not do it again? Maybe this time it'd actually matter. 

His free hand hovered over his jaw, afraid to actually touch it, lest it reawaken the fire in his skin. Bright flash, deafening bang, a ringing that drowned out Ashley begging him to shoot her instead. Shockwave smashing into his jaw and knocking his head back hard enough to give him whiplash. Burning agony in his face making him want to scream. But he wasn't dead. How was he not dead? 

He shook off the memory, "I- I'm coming, Ash. Hold on. I'm coming." And he limped forward.  

The entrance to the side passage wasn't level with the main passage, and Chris almost tripped over it. Which, he discovered, would have been very bad. There was a pretty sizable drop on the other side. He climbed onto the berm, hanging his legs off the far side, and just stared at the drop with his flashlight. You gotta be freaking kidding me. 

This was even higher than the drop in the main passage, and that one had hurt badly enough. Even if he didn't straight-up break his ankle, he didn't know if he'd be able to climb back out of this on his own. But, short of Ash noping back to the lodge without telling anyone, which seemed unlikely, there was no other direction she could have gone.  He should have just waited for her to close the grate. Dammit, he was such a moron. She was only lost because, after she’d refused to leave him behind, he’d gone right ahead and done it to her. There was no way he was going to abandon her again. 

That settled it. He took a deep breath and slid his butt off the berm. His stomach had an out-of-body experience for a second of freefall. His landing was rough and graceless, but he managed to keep his feet by reeling into a wall. There was a loud, painful pop from his ankle that he badly hoped was just his joint settling. His jaw snapped shut at the impact and its muscles seized up painfully, cutting his cry of pain into a muffled groan. His hand came up instinctively to massage the tension out of his fucked up jaw only to aggravate the burns. He hummed miserably through his nose. Damn it all. Josh, more than any one of them, should have known how dangerous blanks were at point-blank range. Chris wanted to believe that Josh, his best friend, hadn't meant for him to damn near blow his face off for a prank. But he also had a hard time reconciling that with all the rest of the batshit crazy bullshit Josh had pulled on him tonight. That and the fact that Josh seemed neither surprised nor particularly concerned by how badly Chris had been hurt by the muzzle flash. What chilled him to the bone was the very real possibility that Josh knew exactly what he was doing when he gave Chris a gun loaded with blanks and encouraged him to put it up to his own head and pull the trigger. He was damn lucky he'd decided to aim it under his jaw instead of at his temple. The latter probably would have killed him. 

Had Josh wanted that? Did he really hate Chris that much? God knows Chris had blamed himself plenty enough for his part--or lack thereof-- in Hannah and Beth's disappearance. If he hadn't had so much to drink, he might have been able to stop things before they got out of hand. Or at least he could have been the one to go after Hannah, instead of Beth. But no. He'd been too shitfaced to be of use to anyone. Classic Chris maneuver. Always present when things went tits up, but his presence was never beneficial. He'd had to find out what happened second-hand, despite being there. If Chris was being honest with himself, he deserved a good, healthy, superheated blast of explosive decompression to the face.

But if Josh felt that way, too, how had Chris gone a whole year without noticing? He wasn't completely blind. He'd known things weren't good with Josh, but he had no idea they were anywhere near homicidal levels of bad. Was he really so self-absorbed that he couldn't see how deeply his best friend was hurting? Had he been so busy pining after Ashley that he'd completely missed how much Josh hated him? 

That would make sense, wouldn't it? Just a couple hours ago, he'd literally sacrificed Josh to save Ash. Flipped a switch, knowing full-well that it would send a whirling blade of doom over to cut his best friend in half. It didn't matter that it wasn't real. He hadn't known that at the time, and Josh knew he didn’t know. And now Josh knew that Chris was perfectly willing to kill him for a girl. What an awful truth to discover about someone you thought cared about you. Chris knew he'd be upset if their positions were reversed. So perhaps this was his punishment for prioritizing Ash above everything else. After all, nobody would have been hurt if he'd chosen to shoot Ash, right? She'd been across the table from him; too far away to be affected by a blank. But no…no... the thought of shooting her… it was unthinkable. It made his stomach tie up in knots. Even now, knowing the gun had been filled with blanks, he'd still rather shoot himself. 

The pain in his jaw subsided as the muscles slowly relaxed. He pushed himself off the wall and limped through the tunnel, hoping there weren't any more branch-offs to complicate things. 

All right, jackass. You're down in a hole, playing hero to impress a girl who may or may not still be alive, armed with a flashlight and bad puns. You haven't even touched the wendigo yet, and you're already beat to hell. Like a dipstick, you left the shotgun back in the lodge. What, exactly, is your plan?

Find Ash? Not die? That was pretty much the extent of it. 

That's not much of a plan.  

Much as he hated his little Voice of Better Judgment and loved few things more than ignoring it, he had to admit it had a point. He'd be no help to Ash dead.

The earth shook. Like, legitimately shook, making him stumble. A deep rumble resonated into his very soul. Rocks big and small were shaken loose from the cavern's ceiling, pelting the ground all around him. One of the bigger ones nailed him in the shoulder. The blow, only slightly softened by the padding of his coat, drove him to one knee. 

"Shit!" he cried, raising his other arm up to shield his head. When the patter of falling pebbles tapered off, and it seemed the cave wasn't planning to collapse on him after all, he lowered his arm and tilted the flashlight beam up toward the ceiling. "What the hell was that?" But the stalactites above him had no answer. They just dripped menacingly, promising that, next time, one of them would fall on him and leave him with more than just a bruise. He narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "Don't even think about it. I've got my eye on you. All of you." 

One of the stalactites dripped directly onto his glasses. "Aw, c'mon. Really?" He dropped his head and snatched his glasses from his face, unzipping his sweater to go to town on the soiled lens with his t-shirt. "Whyyy?" Chris did the best job he could cleaning them, but his shirt was drenched in sweat, and the water was… not clean. That lens was thoroughly smudged now. Wiping it might have actually made the situation worse. Squinting through that nonsense was gonna give him a headache in about three seconds. He put his glasses back on and glowered at the ceiling with one eye. "Not cool."

Defiantly, the stalactite dripped at him again, but this time he dodged it and got back to his feet, grimacing as he put weight on his right leg. "Onward and upward," he muttered and continued deeper into the tunnel. 

The tunnel wound and twisted. The floor was uneven and threatened to turn his ankle with every step. The walls and ceiling closed in around him, making him want to duck his head, to avoid the jagged rocks above. The path was so dark and claustrophobic, the beam of his flashlight seemed barely capable of cutting through it. Why would Ash ever come this way?

"Ash?" He paused to listen for any response, but the tinnitus was just too damn loud. He reached up to vigorously rub and bat at his ear, hoping to clear the stupid out of it, but, stubbornly, the ringing persisted. Who knew discharging a gun right next to your head could fuck up your hearing so bad? 

He sighed. Well… you knew that. That's why you always wear hearing protection at the range. But, like an idiot, you still did it. In fairness, though, he hadn't exactly been expecting to survive the gunshot. His hearing had been pretty low on his list of considerations. Now though? He was kinda starting to think maybe Van Gogh wasn't quite so crazy for cutting off his own ear.

The passage turned sharply to the right and opened up again into a room held up by mining beams. Moonlight filtered in through the cracks of a boarded up shaft, casting god-rays on a table beneath. In front of the table was a trap door, and in front of that…

"Oh no..." Chris blinked, not wanting to be sure of what he was seeing. Maybe it was just a trick of the light passing through his filthy glasses. He closed one eye, cutting off the interference from the lens smudged in cave crap, but that didn't help much. He'd have to get closer. 

But he really didn't want to get closer. Because that thing on the floor looked a lot like Ashley's beanie. And it was in a massive puddle of blood. If he moved closer, the comforting arms of doubt would vanish from around him. And he couldn't bear the thought of knowing something had happened to her. But what was the point? He already knew, didn't he?

"Oh my God, no..." his legs buckled, and he staggered forward to keep upright, dropping to his knees in front of the offending object, only faintly aware of the blood soaking through his jeans. There could no longer be any doubt. That was Ash's beanie, and it was covered in blood. The wendigo had gotten to her. Chris had seen what it does, how fast it works. He could see all the blood. So much blood. Surely nobody could survive that much blood loss. 

Ash. His Ash… with her long-suffering indulgence of his sense of humor, her big doe eyes, her adorable button nose, and the soft, warm lips he'd only just gotten to touch with his own…was....

The last beam supporting the mental dam that had been holding back his steadily mounting despair finally cracked. His grief came pouring out of his mouth in a flood of tears and sobs, unmindful of the danger he, himself, must be in. "Oh my God, Ash. No. No!" He scooped her beanie into his free hand,  feeling the soft wool slither over his fingers, leaving in its wake streaks of blood. Fresh blood. His hands felt like they were a million miles away, as he rubbed the blood-- Ash's blood-- between his fingers. The room around him wobbled and swayed; everything was surreal. It felt exactly like a nightmare. Yes. This was a nightmare. It had to be. But if so, why couldn't he wake up?? 

"I can't stand it…" he whimpered, his voice cracking. "None of this can be happening. This can't be real! Please tell me it's not real!" He lifted the beanie to his face, imploring it to respond. Begging Ashley to appear from around the corner or out of the trap door and tell him it was just a joke. A prank. A nightmare. That she was okay. But she didn't. The beanie reeked of iron, not corn syrup. Tears poured down his cheeks as he lowered the beanie and tucked it into his pocket. "No… no… no…" His eyes dropped to the cavern floor, looking for something-- anything-- to latch on to. Any sign that it wasn't hopeless. All he saw was a trail of blood connecting the puddle to the trap door, where it ended. If there was any chance whatsoever of finding her, it'd be down there. 

Numbly, he got back to his feet and shuffled over to the trap door. There was the gnawing sensation that he was just throwing his life away, but he couldn't be bothered to care anymore. If she'd died because he left her behind, then maybe he didn't deserve to survive the night. He bent down stiffly and opened the trap door. There were more support beams down there, some ancient, leaky hazmat drums, and pipes leading into darkness. The air was rank with the smell of must and whatever was coming out of those barrels. More blood pooled at the base of the ladder. Shit, there was so much of it. It trailed off in the direction the pipes were running. 

Setting the trapdoor down clumsily against the legs of the table, Chris started down the ladder. But after all the climbing, jumping, and… even just walking, his ankle picked that exact moment to decide it'd had enough. The first moment he put all his weight on it, it crumpled, and his foot slipped off of the rung. His hands, hampered by the flashlight, lost their grip on the ladder, and down he went, landing hard on his back. The air whooshed out of his lungs, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't get his chest to expand and let new air in. 

God, this is how I die? By falling off a ladder that's like two inches high? After everything else, this is how it ends? For f-- Then his diaphragm started functioning again. His endless, involuntary groan stopped, and he took a huge, shaky breath. Nope. Not dying. His ribs hurt like a mother-- more than they already had-- but nothing in there seemed to be moving in an unnatural way, so he supposed he must be all right. Just knocked the wind out of himself. Slowly, he rolled over and fumbled for the flashlight that had flown out of his grasp during the fall. Once he found that, he rose unsteadily to his feet, his ankle grumbling like Yosemite Sam. 

With one hand, he rubbed at his leg conciliatorily; with the other, he cast the beam of the flashlight down to the pool of blood at the base of the ladder. Its structural integrity had been obliterated when he landed in it, but it was easy enough to follow the trail. 

He didn't have to follow it far. 

A few yards beyond the reach of the moonlight streaming through the trap door, his flashlight beam fell upon a big, red lump on the floor. Chris felt his stomach seize up into a tight ball and cram itself into his throat. For a long moment, he absolutely could not get his feet to move. When they did, they felt so heavy it was like moving through mud. Everything around the shape disappeared from his consciousness, and the closer he got, the more clear it became. Soon, it was impossible for him to deny the truth of what he was seeing. It was Ashley’s hoodie. But it was like those old crime scene photos from the Manson murders that Josh had shown him once. One of the victims was wearing a white nightgown so saturated in blood that the investigators initially thought it was red. Ash’s hoodie was the same way. You’d never know from looking at it now that it was gray. But there was something else wrong with it. It wasn't lying right on the cavern floor. It should be lying flat. Why wasn't it lying flat?

You know why, Christopher. 

"No," he hissed viciously. "It's just her hoodie. If she was in it, I’d see her head sticking out. Maybe her hoodie came off while she was fighting."

But down beneath the waistband of her hoodie were her shorts, and coming out the bottom of those were her leggings and boots, and those were definitely not empty. And there’s no way all of that would come off in a fight. But there was still nothing coming out of the collar of her hoodie! Then his eyes drifted down to her sleeves. Poking delicately out the ends were small, pale, crimson-streaked fingers. Unmistakeable. 

The ramifications of what he was seeing hit him like a ton of bricks. The stranger. Alive one second. Gone the next. His head toppling from his shoulders and thudding heavily to the snow. But it had Ashley's face when it landed. "Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God." He wanted to deny it. He needed to deny it, but no matter how hard his mind whirled for anything to latch onto, there was nothing but the truth.

Where was her head?? Letting out a horrible yell, he dropped his flashlight, fell to her side and found her hand, but there was no head to cradle. No eyes to look into. No hair to stroke. No cheek to caress. And her lips… the memory of her kiss haunted him, a ghost of warmth on his icy lips. The sensation was so intoxicating, and now he would never experience it again. He had no way to feel close to her but to take her blood-streaked hand and sandwich it between his own. 

Noise was coming out of him, maybe he was saying something, but hell if he knew what it was. He didn't even know if there were words, or if it was just a mindless outpouring of pure anguish. His vision swam as it locked in on the perfectly manicured fingers of the hand he held, took in the blood caked in the cuticles and under her nails. Was it hers or the pig's blood Josh had used to fake his death? Did it matter? Did anything matter? Then he couldn't see anything but vague blobs. His vision was obscured behind a flood of grief, and even blinking couldn't clear his eyes. So he closed them and doubled over into a hopeless, rocking ball. Unaware he was doing it, he pressed the back of her hand to his mouth, sobbing into it, washing away the blood with his tears. Her hand was still warm. Still warm! Maybe if he'd realized she was gone sooner… if he hadn't wasted so much time being an emotional wreck… if he hadn’t been an idiot and hurt his ankle in the first place… he might have been here in time to help… to do something…

To take her place. 

Yes. That, more than anything else, was what he wanted right now. He wanted to die knowing that she'd be all right because of it. But he'd never get to do that, because… because... Ashley was-- 

His mind recoiled violently from the word. He just couldn't accept it. This was clearly someone else's body. Someone wearing her clothes. One of Josh's horribly realistic dummies, maybe, with the head ripped off. He desperately wanted to cling to that idea. It felt warm and comfortable. But deep down he knew better. The smell of her hand, like peaches and vanilla mixed with old books. The soft warmth of her skin against his cold cheek. They were as familiar to him as the weight of his glasses on his nose-- impossible to mistake for anything else. For anyone else. There was no escaping the reality. This was Ashley’s body. Ashley was dead. Her words echoed back to him. 

It's just not fair!

His face stretched in a rictus of grief as he lowered his head to her chest, using it to muffle his sobs.

It's too late, Chris. What's the point?

Her chest was silent and still. No heartbeat to be heard. No whooshing of air through her lungs. No rise and fall of her breast. Each observation came like the fall of a hammer on a nail being driven through his heart. 

We've wasted everything. 

"Oh, God, Ash. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry." His voice was too high and broken, muffled by the fabric of her hoodie and coming out in quick, wavering gasps amidst the rapid heaving of his chest. "It should have been me. It should have been me. I should have saved you. I'm so sorry." His head was swimming. His face was heavy and tingling, and his lips were numb. His hands, still clasping hers, felt a million miles away. Chris was vaguely aware that he was hyperventilating again, but there was no stopping it this time; he didn’t want to stop it. He just didn't care anymore. If he died down here, what difference did it make? He’d failed in the one thing that mattered most to him; there was no living with that. Spots bloomed across his vision, even though his eyes were closed. Vaguely, he heard the sound of something clamoring in the room up above. He sat up, opened his eyes, and still couldn't see through the swarm of darkness blooming across his vision. At the movement, he felt the blood drain out of his face. Suddenly, his head lolled heavily forward, his shoulders went limp, and he slumped over Ash's body in a dead faint. 

[mira-eyeteeth]

Patchwork, Part 2

More of this! Last chapter is here. Crossposted from AO3.

------------------

Jon got home, took several more over-the-counter painkillers than was recommended on the bottle, and attempted to sleep. What little sleep he got was interrupted by nightmares, and every time he woke up gasping, wounds burning, certain that the ECDC had missed one, that the CO2 had failed, that there was still a worm burrowing its way inside him to lay its filthy eggs and devour him from the inside...

Every time he lurched out of bed, turned on the lights, and spent twenty minutes examining every inch of his skin.

Then, in an attempt at seeming at least partly rational and productive in his hourly bouts of night terrors, he would re-apply antiseptic ointment to his wounds. By the time he had gone through half of the tube, he had to admit that he would probably need to buy another one, and that he was utterly failing at any semblance of rationality.

Still, he attempted to sleep for several agonizing hours, until the sun started to peek over the horizon. Then, with no small amount of relief, he snatched up his phone and dialed.

One ring. Two. Then the call was picked up.

“Is there any-” Jon started.

“No, Jon. There have been no new developments. Go back to sleep,” Elias said, flatly. “And don’t think about coming in today. You’re on leave.”

Jon clenched his teeth and ended the call before he said something unprofessional.

Fine. Fine.

He would just have to go when no one would be there to give him idiotic orders.

-----------------

Jon stole into the tunnels with a heavy-duty torch, a tape recorder, and several more doses of painkillers. They’d put up plasterboard over the holes already, but the trap door hadn’t been secured yet.

He had thought his initial impressions of the tunnels had been affected by the CO2 and the terror. But the tunnels were just as impossible to navigate and as maddeningly bizarre as he had remembered. He was half-lost and disorientated within minutes. He didn’t even know where to start. At least the worms were gone, cleaned away, though as he progressed further he found the point where the cleaners decided to stop. The carcasses remained still when he crossed the boundary, though he held his breath in trepidation anyway.

A flicker of movement at the corner of his eye had him whirling around, heart hammering.

It was only a spindly little long-legged spider, picking its way daintily between the worms and heading down one branching tunnel, away from Jon.

Every instinct told Jon that he should be going in the opposite direction of that thing.

But if he wanted to find Martin…

Jon took a deep breath and proceeded slowly down the hallway, taking care to inspect the whole of the corridor in long, arching sweeps of his torch. The only cobwebs were a handful of normal-sized things, spun in the far corners between the wall and the ceiling. No giant, shining web laid in wait for him.

Jon reached a bend in the tunnel and peered around it, cautiously. Clear as well, at least until he began down the hall and the light of the torch fell on a figure huddled off to the side of the hallway. Several small, dark things skittered off of the person and away from the light, and Jon took a hurried step backwards. Martin’s head jerked up, and Jon could have sworn that Martin’s eyes reflected the light from the torch. Or maybe it had just been his glasses.

“Hello?” Martin asked, blinking and shading his eyes from the sudden influx of light. “Who's-- Jon? You're alive?” Martin suddenly shot to his feet; more tiny creatures fell off of him.

Jon took several more hurried steps backwards, belatedly realizing that he did not bring any sort of weapon along. Could he even find his way back quickly, if he had to run?

Martin didn't move, though. He just stood there, staring at Jon. Jon tried very hard not to think that he was staring hungrily.

“You're alive,” Martin repeated. “ God, Jon, I thought…” His gaze trailed down to Jon's bandages, then snapped back up to Jon's face. “You're hurt. Why are you down here? You're hurt! Is- Is Elias making you work? He can't expect you to work in your condition. You should be at home, resting. I'll- I'll go tell Elias that you need more time to recover, and you--”

“Martin!” Jon snapped, cutting him off. He certainly seemed like the same Martin as always, at least. “Elias didn't tell me to go down here. He doesn't know I'm here at all. It's the middle of the night.”

Martin blinked. “You came down here without telling anyone where you were going? Alone? In the middle of the night?!”

“It's not like it's any brighter down here in the daytime,” Jon muttered.

“That's not the point! You can't do things like this, Jon! It's not safe! Why are you even here?”

“I was looking for you!”

That seemed to take some of the wind out of Martin's sails. “What? Why?”

“Because you didn't come out. I didn't know what happened to you, and I'm sick of mysteries.”

“... oh. So, if I give you my statement, will you go home and rest?”

“Yes, okay, fine.”

“For at least a week?”

“Martin…”

“At least a week,” Martin repeated, stubbornly.

“... fine. A week. I promise. Are you happy now?”

“Yes. Thank you. I… Do you want to sit down, first? You look… pretty bad. We- um-” Martin suddenly seemed to realize that they were in a desolate underground tunnel and there were no chairs at hand. “We could go back to the Archive?”

“Do you even know how to get back?”

“Well, I mean… no.”

Which meant that to get to the Archive, Jon would have to lead him back. And he looked like Martin. He acted like Martin. But Jon still didn’t want to turn his back on whatever Martin may have become. “Here is fine.”

“Are- are you sure? You-”

“It's fine, Martin, and the longer you take to give your statement, the longer I am kept away from home and my solemnly-sworn rest.”

“...Yeah, okay,” Martin relented. His eyes trailed down to the tape recorder Jon held in his hand, which was already recording. Jon suspect that it had turned on when he first came across Martin. “Um, Statement of Martin Blackwood, Archival- former Archival- current, current Archival Assistant of the Magnus Institute, regarding the attack on the Institute by the entity formerly known as Jane Prentiss. Statement begins. I was looking up the background of case… er, 0081709, I think, and then I heard you and Sasha screaming and-”

“We have up to the point where you were separated from us already on tape.”

“Right. ...I’m sorry. I’m sorry for leaving you behind. I didn’t mean to, it was an accident, but the worms came and I just ran and I thought you were behind me but I left you and Tim-- oh, god, Tim. Did Tim survive?”

“Tim is fine Sasha, too. And Elias. As far as I know, the only things that died were Prentiss and the worms.”

“Good. That’s… that’s good. I thought… I thought I’d left you both to die. I tried to find you again, I swear, but I’d gotten so turned around in the tunnels, and shouting didn’t do any good at all, and I--”

“It’s fine, Martin.”

“Okay. Okay, sorry, I’m rambling. Anyway, I got lost in the tunnels. There’s no light at all down here, but I had my torch. Still do, actually. But we’ll get to that. I wandered for a while. It’s a, it’s a maze down here. I don’t know how far the passages go. Maybe miles. I think it must be the old Millbank Prison, like Tim was saying before. I even found some stairs at one point, but I really didn’t want to go down them. I hadn’t seen any worms for a few minutes, and weirdly enough that actually started to worry me, like, if there weren’t any worms then I’d gone too far from the Institute. And there was more dust in those corridors too, and dead rats, even some discarded wine bottles. At one point there was an empty packet of mint imperials--”

“Martin.”

“Sorry. Yeah. Um. I was trying to go back, not that I knew what back even meant down there, and that's when I heard the scream. You… you heard that too, right? It wasn’t just me?”

“I very much wish I hadn’t heard it,” Jon said dryly.

“Yeah, that sounds about right. Anyway, I didn’t know what it meant for sure until I started finding the worm corpses again. Then I knew that Jane Prentiss was dead. She is dead, isn't she?”

“...they told me she was. They said that they burned her body,” Jon replied.

“But you don’t believe them?”

“I didn’t see it. I can’t be sure.”

“Ah. ...Well, the worms were dead. And I started thinking how… how they had finally killed a monster. And how I’m… basically the same as Prentiss, aren’t I? I mean, not with the killing people thing, but in terms of being unnatural. And also I’m apparently in the final stages of infestation and that the ECDC would probably quarantine me forever or try to cut me open and I.. I was scared. I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t leave the tunnels. So I… started looking for somewhere to hole up for a little while, at least. I mean, I have a torch, but the batteries don’t last forever and I planned on… turning it off and waiting in the dark, until it felt safer to leave. I would need light to be able to find my way out, when that happened, so I couldn’t just leave it on until it died.

“So at first, my plan was to find a little room to hole up in, you know? Something defensible, though heaven only knows what I planned to defend it with. Or from, for that matter. But you know, the way the tunnels feel. The worms are dead, but there’s still something… here.

“Anyway, initally I thought that was a good idea. But then, I started to feel like if, if I went into a room and turned off the light, that the doorway wouldn’t be there when I turned the light back on. I was just having that thought when I opened the door and found Gertrude’s corpse. She was murdered down here, Jon. I saw her. And after that, I figured I was probably better off just sitting in a hallway instead, so I did that, and I moved away from the sounds that were, I think, nearer to the Archive when I had to. The spiders started--”

“Wait. Gertrude was murdered down here?” Jon said sharply.

“Yes. She… she was shot. Three times in the chest, that I could see. She was in this little square room, no worms, no cobwebs, just her and boxes and boxes of tapes.”

“Tapes?”

“Yes, there must have been dozens, if not hundreds, of them. Still are, I suppose. I should have told the police, I know, but, the whole ‘probably being locked away forever’ thing made me afraid to go out to try to find them. I mean, they know about the whole Prentiss… thing, and they would probably make me get checked for holes and then…”

“You need to take me there.”

“What?”

“To the room where Gertrude is. I need to listen to those tapes.”

“Have you been listening to me? It’s a crime scene, Jon. We can’t just--”

“Yes, it is a crime scene, and if the police find out about it then they will take everything away and I will never be able to access them. We can’t let that happen.”

“That’s not--”

“Martin!”

Martin did not cringe and comply with the shouted demand. He straightened his back, lifted his chin, and stared at Jon levelly. “I gave you my statement. You promised that you would go home and rest.”

“This is more important than that.”

“You’re already bleeding through some of your bandages, Jon. You need to stop.”

“No, what I need to do is figure out this bloody mystery before--”

“ Go home, Jon. ”

The next thing Jon knew, he was standing in the foyer of his apartment, his hand resting on the still-open front door.

A voice was babbling on next to him. “Oh god, oh god, I’m so sorry Jon, please snap out of it, please, I’m sorry. Jon. Jon, please, I don’t know what I did, I didn’t mean to do it, please snap out of it--”

“Martin?” Jon turned his head to see that, yes, it was Martin was hovering behind his left shoulder, looking frantic.

Martin inhaled sharply. “Jon? Is that you?”

“Who else would it be? What the hell are you doing here? What… what am I doing here?”

“I don’t know.  I just… I told you to go home and it’s like you… shut off. You turned around and marched off without saying anything. I didn’t even know where you were going.  I thought you were going to try to find Gertrude on your own. You didn’t say anything. I followed you, because I was worried. Then I got really worried when I told you that that wasn’t the right direction to find Gertrude and you didn’t even react. You went right out of the tunnels, didn’t even close the trap door behind you- I did, don’t worry- and then out into the night.Then you took a late-night bus and we ended up here. You just left your tape recorder on the bus when you got out of your seat, like it didn’t matter. I couldn’t get you to respond to anything I said, the whole way here, until now. ...I guess this must be your home.”

“You controlled my mind,” Jon said, only half a question

Martin winced. “I... think so? I’m really, really sorry. I swear, I didn’t mean to do it. I didn’t know I could do it. I would have stopped it if I knew how. I’m sorry.”

Jon swallowed. He had memories of doing all those things that Martin described, but they were indistinct, like he was viewing them through smudged glass. Or through a veil of cobwebs. He remembered another time when his body moved without his own will behind it. Mr. Spider wants another guest for dinner… “Don’t ever do that again,” he finally said, as his hand started to tremble on the doorknob.

“I won’t. I’m really sorry. I… I brought your tape recorder, and torch. Do you want them back?”

“Yes, thank you,” Jon said, letting go of the door and turning around to take the items.

His hand stopped before it crossed the threshold of the apartment.

Jon stared down at his immobile hand. He tried the other one. The same- he couldn’t go out into the hallway. He couldn’t cross the threshold. It wasn’t like there was a wall- his muscles simply refused to continue any movements beyond the boundary.  “I think… I think I’m going to be stuck here for a week,” Jon remarked, more calmly than he felt.

[eene-fangirl]

Jaws-ED [An Ed, Edd n Eddy Fanfiction]

NOTE: Can anybody who reads this please leave a review or suggestions. I am putting it into my senior thesis. Thank you and enjoy reading!

“Are you sure about this, Eddy?” Edd asked once more when the boat stopped in the middle of a quiet part of the ocean. They were far away from Amity Beach. No civilization or other boats in sight.

Eddy shut off the motor and dipped to the floor of the boat where Edd was seated. “We’re where nobody can remotely see us. And I’ve hardly seen you this whole vacation,” Eddy whined, rubbing his hand soothingly up and down Edd’s arm.

“You saw me this morning, Eddy,” Edd remarked, furring up his eyebrow

“Yeah, but could I do this?” Eddy gifted Edd with a long awaited kiss. Before Edd could argue he wrapped his arms around the man. They’d been visiting May’s uncle on Amity Beach for the week. Edd and Eddy were involved in constant activities such as exploring the town, spending a whole day at a marine park watching divers feed fish, and even a dance the night before. The lovers hardly spent one moment to themselves. That morning when Ed told Eddy they could have a day to themselves Eddy didn’t hesitate to bring Edd on a little ocean adventure.

“Are you sure we had permission to use this boat?” Edd panted upon the long fervent kiss.

“As long as we get it back before we’re missed.”

Eddy made sure Edd was fully distracted so a rant wouldn’t interrupt their moment.

Eddy took the boat so far into the ocean that they could hardly see a spot of land. No other boats or islands were around. Just the ocean bobbing up and down causing ripples and waves. Nothing obstructed the deep blue oceans current.

All except a fin swimming towards the lovers.

“Guess what?” Eddy whispered as he stood up letting Edd’s arms slide off his shoulders.

“What?” Edd impatiently asked. He began to fiddle with his own shirt buttons.

“I brought a blanket.”

It didn’t take long for the mood to change when something banged against the boat. The force was so great that Eddy was knocked off his feet falling into the water. None of them had time to think what was happening as the boat was rowing itself across the ocean.

What they were blind to was a shark fin which caught itself on the motor. The boat jostled around nearly capsizing.

Then everything was still as if nothing ever happened. Edd took everything in slowly sitting back up. His heart pounded not at the sudden movement but at the realization that he was alone. Edd turned his head in all different directions until he found Eddy floating in the ocean. They were fifty feet away from one another.

“Eddy, are you alright?” Edd called out.

“Yeah, fine. What the hell was that?” Eddy regained his composure and started swimming towards the boat. “Start the motor!” It wasn’t like he was hurt. He felt too distracted to swim.

Edd turned the motor. It was hanging half on its hinges. The cages that protected the wheels were bent out of shape. Oh dear, was it able to work?

Before he could test it an object caught his eye on the opposite side of the boat.

A fin.

Edd’s heart stopped. He couldn’t form words. Edd darted to the other side, clenching his hands against the boat.

“EDDY, SWIM! IT’S A SHARK! SWIM!”

Fear snapped in Eddy’s mind at the mention of a shark. He had no idea where it was. Behind, coming from the side… in front? Eddy thought Edd might be playing a joke on him. That theory crossed his mind in a second knowing Edd would never joke about something so crucial as this.

Edd turned back around.

The sharks fin was gone.

No, it wouldn’t disappear. It was lurking under the water. Somewhere…

“SWIM FAST, EDDY! HURRY!” The hysteria in Edd’s voice grew. His heart was pounding as the sweat drenched his face.

Eddy had no idea how he became the champion swimmer, but he made it to the boat quicker than he expected. Edd’s breath slowly returned to its normal breathing when he touched Eddy’s hand to pull him into the boat.

“Quite the excer…”

Eddy screamed out in pain being jerked back into the water.

The shark was there. It had Eddy’s whole leg slowly biting through the skin.

In an instant Edd smashed a paddle board over the sharks head distracting it.

Eddy pulled himself into the boat falling against the floor. His head felt heavy. Edd was there touching his face mouthing words he had trouble reading. His mind drifted, his eyes were heavy wanting to fall asleep. The stinging pain in his leg was what made Eddy’s come back.

“Eddy, speak to me, please, speak to me! Are you alright?!” Edd was shouting. His face was panic stricken as he whaled and screamed. At first it was Eddy’s name, but then Edd was bellowing different sentences. Once Eddy could see straight he noticed the familiar fin coming towards the boat and banging it once more.

“Stop screaming!” Eddy sat up covering his boyfriend's mouth. The sun felt so hot that he dipped his head down. He also put his head on Edd’s shoulder in both reassurance and to rest it so he wouldn’t pass out from the pain. “Keep quiet and it will go away.”

Edd emitted little whimpers as they watched the sharks fin swim in circles around their boat.

The smell of blood grew stronger. Eddy looked down to finally notice the shape his leg was in.

The sharks fin disappeared into the water again. Edd and Eddy were finally able to move, but they were still cautious of what was out there.

Edd and Eddy looked at the sight of Eddy’s leg. His pant leg was ripped revealing the plethora of teeth marks which severed holes through his leg. Noticing how much blood he already lost made Eddy feel even more dizzy. His stomach also felt queasy. He wanted to cry, scream, call for someone. But, no, that’s hat the shark wanted.

“Double Dee…” Edd was tossing his head all around mimicking a meerkat who was looking out for danger. Edd jumped out of his skin when Eddy touched his skin. His pale face was drenched with tears.

“Double Dee, listen to me…”

“The-The S-Shark….wh-where…” he stuttered.

“Forget the shark and listen to me!” Eddy commanded gently holding his face. “You need to help me wrap my leg up. I’ve seen you do this before and I need your help. We’ll find a way to get back to the beach, I promise. Right now you need to calm down.”

Edd listened slowly calming down and ripping the blanket in half. They were lucky to have brought it along seeing that there was nothing else that would have bandaged Eddy’s leg.

Eddy bit the other half of the blanket when pressure was held against his leg. His mouth felt fry. His head was pounding. That wanting to sleep wouldn’t go away. The most unbearable wave of pain surged through his body at the slightest movement.

Edd gasped once more holding back the scream which kicked at his throat.

The fin was back. It continued to loom around them dipping up and down from the ocean.

Eddy sat up hugging Edd close. He wrapped them together in the other half of the blanket. Edd trembled whimpering nonsensical things about the shark. He was scared over the sight of blood along with the nightmare thought that if he hadn’t had the paddle Eddy may have been eaten in front of him leaving Edd alone and defenseless in the middle of an ocean.

“Shh,” Eddy comforted. Their heads touched as they held one another rocking back and forth from the waves that lightly hit against the boat. They’d jump if there was ever a big wave. It sounded as if it were the shark trying to overturn the boat again.

“I want to go home…” Edd whimpered.

“We will.”

Eddy had no idea if they were going to. How long could he force himself to stay conscious? nobody knew they were out here. Eddy felt awful that he took Edd out here. There were hundreds of other activities they could have done in the town. When was he ever going to learn? He still brought his friends into unneeded danger. This was the worst. He was hurt and Edd was a hysterical mess.

Edd still cried thinking he could see the shark even when it wasn’t there.

They were shaking. The breeze picked up. Eddy could see the sun starting to dip down. They had no idea what time it was. Eddy felt weaker. The bandage was dripping wet.

Eddy had an idea.

“‘The itsy bitsy spider went up the water spout,’” Eddy began to sing in a hoarse voice. “’Down came the rain and,’ … can you sing with me, Edd? Help me out.” Eddy gently whispered.

“…w-washed the spider out…” Edd slowly joined in as they kept singing. They continued to sing the song over and over until the sound of a motor caught their ears.

“Over here! Help us, please! Help!” They shouted.

It was Ed and May. Oh, what luck!

The excitement vanished from Ed and May’s faces when they caught sight of Edd and Eddy. Anchoring their boat close enough to the two Eds, they got out to help them.

“What happened to you guys?” Ed asked when he looked at Eddy’s leg.

May helped Edd stand up. He had such a tight grip on Eddy that they thought he was frozen to him. He was shaking out of his skin so terrible that May needed to scoop him up to take him on to the other boat.

He started sprouting off different words again. It looked as if he was having a seizure as May tried to take hold of him. Then he belted out, “SHAAAAARK!”

May covered her mouth. “Oh no, my uncle was right. How could I have ignored his warning?”

As carefully as possible Eddy was helped onto the boat. He and Edd were right beside one another. Ed sat near to keep the warm with a new blanket as May started up the motors to head back to land.

They were safe.

As Eddy finally drifted off with the happy thought they were safe Eddy interlaced his hand with Edd’s.

[crazyfcleigh]

Hurt- Peter Parker x Reader. Flash Crossover

disclaimer PLEASE READ THESE-

In this, I have modified the Use map, because I am god!!!! Anyway, NewYork is still in the same place, but right next to Queen’s where Peter lives, is Central City, the second largest City in America.

The Reader was only about a month old when Nora Allen was killed. She was put up for adoption before Jo could adopt her, though Barry lived with Jo.

Reader Grew up her life as the daughter of Tony Stark, though the minute Barry got his powers he ran over to New York and met her.

She was visiting Barry and Central City cause she is a science nerd and wanted to see the particle accelerator when her and Barry were in his lab and they were both stuck by lightning.

Also, in order for this to make since, Barry is currently 25, same with Cisco and Catalan, Jo is 45 same as Tony and Pepper and Iris is 25. Reader named Lilly Stark Allen is 15 same as Peter.

When Reader got truck by lightning, Barry was only near chemicals giving him the ability to run faster than sound itself, though the reader was touching Chemicals, giving her the power to both Run Faster than sound like her brother, and move matter with her mind.

“I can’t so this guys, I might as well give up!” I threw my hands up in frustration as I failed to faze through matter once again, something that seemed to come so easily to Barry and Wally. Wally and Barry both let out long sighs, as well as Cisco was as sitting over near the computers in the training room of STAR labs. Barry and Wally had been using their experience to try and teach me how to use my powers without loosing control after hours during my spring break, though it was like teaching a dog to talk French, almost impossible if not completely impossible.

“Yes you can Lilly, you just have to focus,” Barry said stressfully, pinching the bridge of his nose. Barry had been going through a lot lately with an influx of cases at the CCPD, and hiding his superhero -ability's from most of Central City and the world.

Cisco stepped down from his chair on the left side of the room as Wally stepped a little bit closer to the wall, the sound of my phone ringing sending through the room. I ran over to where I had my jacket and water bottle sitting on the ground, my phone buzzing on top of my jacket. I picked it up and slid it so the screen on the Stark Smart Phone was flashing the callers icon, my brain instantly registering it as Peter’s call. I knew he was probraly calling since he missed me, though I had seen him earlier that day. Throughout the few years I had been dating him, I discovered he was a very cuddly person, thought hey were wonderful cuddles so I couldn’t really complain.

I clicked the ignore button on the phone call, quickly texting him that I was busy and I would be home soon, adding an I love you at the end for good measure. He didn’t respond quickly so I just assumed me was pouting about me not coming back to Queen’s sooner, setting my phone back down.

“Now,” Barry started, though he was cut off by my phone blaring again. I sighed and muttered a quick sorry to my annoyed brother, Cisco, and Wally choking back laughs. I grabbed my phone again and saw that my dad was calling. I did the same thing I did to Peter, sending him a text and telling him I loved him.

Shutting my ringer off so it would quite disrupting my session, I turned around to see Barry, and Wally both wearing their super suits, holding their fists up like they were about to fight, making me confused.

Before I could think Wally sped forward at super speed, attempting to knock me over, though I used my own super speed to rush to the other side of the arena. Wally stopped himself and Barry looked to me, clearly impressed that I was able to stop. “Finally I get to kick your asses.” I said with a deep breath.

They both lunged at me, though I was able to dodge out of the way, sending them boy flying into the wall with my sudden movement. I laughed at my victory, Cisco walking over and high-fiving me.

“Guys!!! Get to the front yard now!!!” Catlin said through the speakers installed in the walls, a worried look going onto Cisco’s face from her fast pace of talking. “But I just finished kicking Barry and Wally’s asses,” I complained. Hearing her groan back.

“NOW!!” She said with urgency, Wally and Barry being able to stand up from their crash, Cisco taking ahold of my arm as all of the speedsters in the front yard, as requested.

As soon as we got there I let Cisco go, who stumbled slightly from his rough the landing was. I muttered a sorry but he didn’t seem to mind, having been kidnapped before so me letting him go hardly wasn’t really that much to him.

I looked around and noticed something coming closer to us in the sky, almost instantly knowing who it was as soon as their superhero suit came into view. He attempted to shoot a web out of his hand machines in order to land, but when their was nothing more than open sky he began flailing in the air.

Landing with a loud thump on the ground a couple of feet away from me, I ran to him as quickly as I could normal human pace, placing my hands on his bleeding body.

“You guys have a lot fewer buildings than Queens.” He muttered, talking about his fall.

“Peter, WHAT HAPPENED!” I yelled at him with fear in my voice, pulling his mask off to reveal his face, knowing that Cisco had rigged a machine to make it so all humans looking at STAR labs, only saw the burnt down lab.

“Armed back robbery went wrong.” He muttered, Barry and Wally, speeding up next to us, both knowing who he was since he had been introduced before.

“And you didn’t call my dad? Or happy?!” I said with more concern than anger or fear now, knowing that no bullet wound would kill him with his fast healing.

“I did, but then this happened.” He said, confusing me for a moment, before he pulled away a little tear in his suit, revealing that one of the placed he was shot, the veins were turning black.

“Oh my god oh my god, oh my freaking god!” I muttered over and over again, my eyes traveling all over his body. He attempted to stand up, muttering how he was ok, though he tripped over himself and landed back on the ground.

“You are not ok, come on, let's get you to Catlin,” I said attempting to calm my breath, knowing when I got scared objects fly around the room, and I didn’t really feel like hitting someone with a lamp at this point.

Barry and Wally ran into the lab in order to tell Catlin what had happened, while Cisco and myself helped Peter back inside. I called my dad and told him where Peter was, and he was going to be here soon, which I was not looking forward to. Every since he first met Tony Stark, Barry had really not liked him.

You see, Barry is the classic superhero. Thinks he puts everyone before himself, and sometimes he does, though he wasn’t perfect. Tony Stark, my father, was the opposite. He did what he wanted when he wanted, and didn’t show that he cared unless it was life or death.

This being so, Barry and Tony were polar opposites, the only thing they had in common being the love for me. Which was fun at sometimes, having an amazing brother who would bring me pizza wherever I got hurt, and a billionaire father who threw parties every night.

Though when it wasn’t fun, it WASN’T fun! Barry and Tony both thought they knew what was best for me, and sometimes they did, but sometimes their arguing didn’t help the problem at all…

Anyways, my leg bounced up and down as Catlin was looking at Peter’s injures, my brain thinking of everything that could go wrong. I knew he wouldn’t die, I mean he couldn’t!! Could he..

“Stop worrying.” I heard a familiar voice say from behind me, my eyes looking up to see my very pissed father. He was probably mad at Peter for the same reason I was, getting almost killed.

I instantly shot up from the seat I was sitting in, jumping in his arms. He hugged me back, and I could feel Barry glaring at him. “Play nice please.” I heard Iris whisper in Barry ear, him nodding, knowing how hard it was for me to know I could loose Peter. Hell, Peter was the only person I told about my powers for a year. I got my powers when I was 14, during a visit to Central City, and once I found out I had them, I told my best friend at the time, Peter. He was the one who convinced me to get help from Barry, and he was my first boyfriend. I couldn't loose him, especially not like this.

“He’s fine.” I let out a sigh as Catlin stepped into the cortex, stepping out of the hospital room we had set up for the many people we know who constant got hurt… aka Barry and Wally.

“What happened?” I asked her, making her smile back at me warmly.

“The poison he was shot with is pretty lethal,” she started, making me tense up from worry, even if she said he was fine earlier, “But with his changed Spider DNA he should be fine in a matter of hours.” She said with another smile, saying I could go see him now.

I let go of my dad and nodded at Barry, telling him to be nice while I went in to see Peter. He was sitting complete awake on the small hospital bed, messing with one of the tubes Catalin connected to his hand.

When he noticed me he looked up and smiled, probably assuming I was going to say how happy I was that he was alive, he was wrong. I walked forward so he was in reach, and slapped him in the face. It was light, but he seemed surprised.

“Damn!” I heard Cisco mutter from through the glass wall, turning my face around to glare at him. I turned back to the surprised Peter, softening my glare, but keeping it. “What the hell were you thinking Peter!! You could have died!!” I said, my voice slightly cracking through my strong look. I was secretly terrified that he would leave me, though I wanted to make myself look mad.

“But I didn’t.” Peter said with a guilty smile, making my glare melt off of my face being replaced with a worried look, not being able to resist him. “You’re so lucky I love you.” I said, swiping my hand through my hair like Barry does when he is stressed out.

“Love you too, baby.” He said.