Eleven minutes

5 minutes

Denial

-Third Person P.O.V-

Peter slams his eyes open as his shaking hands come away from his thigh. 

No, no, he was fine. 

He just- he just had to stand up and get closer to where his dad is. He needs- he needs to get home. 

(Why didn't you stay home, you should've- should've stayed home)

"I'm- I'm fine," he mumbles to himself, his head spinning with horrible speed as he lifts his head once more from where it was settled on the ground. 

He knows though, somewhere in the back of his mind that what he's saying isn't true. That in reality, he isn't okay. He can feel the blood pooling out of him, as the pain comes towards him, wave after wave, trying to drag him down into the endless darkness. 

But he doesn't listen to that part of his mind, instead he grits his teeth, as pain shoots through his body and tears fall through his screwed shut eyes. He's fine- he- he's fine. 

He pushes his body up into a sitting position, whimpers and grunts falling from his mouth with every slight movement, as soon as he is upright his vision darkens considerably and he sways back and forth, feeling the effects of the blood loss. 

Blinking back the darkness his eyes slide hazily over to the skyline he can just about see. The sky had begun to darken more and more, the light diminishing with every small, shaky breath that Peter lets drop from his mouth. 

Part of his brain tells him this will be the last time he'll ever see the sun, see the light. But another, more prominent part right now, is telling him he's fine, and he- he will see another day. He has to, he has no choice. 

A choked sob falls from his lips as his head drops slightly, his energy depleting with every moment he holds himself in a sitting position. 

It allows him more of a look down at the growing puddle of his blood, and he fears he might pass out from the sight. The blood was flowing with a steady wrath, the pounding of his heart was reminding him he was still here, at least for the moment.

(Don't let go, don't let go, you can't- you- you can't. Please)

"Have- have to get home," he slurs, his vision swimming as he feels himself fall back once more. 

He groans tiredly, rolling his head to the side in order to see the darkening sky. If- if he had just got somewhere, anywhere closer to his dad, he would- he might- he might be okay. 

"Help me," he mumbles to no one and yet everyone. 

(I'm so, so sorry, I miss you so much.)