PTR Arachnid 24601

Ch 36 - Five, three, eleven. Anything's a weapon.

IMPORTANT NOTE: Before we proceed, I would like to state that the reason why I do not make them figure out what's 'wrong' with Peter immediately is because that would be pretty inaccurate compared to how it would go in reality. Really, the process of figuring out the mental disorder he has can be quite long and I'm already shortening it down quite a bit. Please be aware that I'm trying to simulate the reality of a situation like this the best I can as someone without his disorder.
This does not mean I'm disrespecting the reality of stuff like this is any way, nor am I ignoring all the things I've learned about it in favour of it being more appealing.

WARNINGS: some mentions of hallucinations and unreality stuff I guess? swearing. there's a therapy session in here

3rd POV

"Mr. Parker, there's someone here to see you. They're in the lobby," FRIDAY chimed.

Peter––no, Suave––mentally winced at the incorrect name, but made no note of it. "Is it urgent?"

"Yes, I'm afraid so."

"Alrighty. Tell them I'll be down in a minute." Suave clicked the TV off and brushed a hand through his hair. Well, not his. Peter's hair technically. (The body's hair? Whatever).

He took a moment to shake himself out and gather his thoughts. He's supposed to be Peter right now. Everyone thinks he's Peter. He has to act like he's mourning and numb because that's how you feel when people die. {Channel that sadness, Suave. C'mon.}

Suave checked to make sure he looked sad enough and exited Peter's bedroom. Thankfully, the tower was quite deserted, so he could slip into the elevator without being seen.

As they strode into the calm lobby, they spotted the person waiting for them. Gwen. Oh no, it was Gwen. Don't get them wrong, they like Gwen and they've heard she's very kind, but they're not exactly the right person for Gwen to talk to right now. Especially in her state. She looked cold, numb, and nervous as she stood by the door biting her lip and glancing around. Nothing like the usually radiant, sunny girl Peter spent his free time with.

{Peter, buddy, I know this is a really bad time but I am not cut out for whatever this interaction is gonna be,} Suave thought to themself. They forced away a wry smile when Gwen locked eyes with them. {Please don't be happening. Please don't be happening...}

"Where have you been?" Gwen asked once they stood less than a meter apart. Suave had to struggle to hear her over the rain. (Damn spider powers).

"I–" {Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. What do I say? I barely know anything about Gwen. AAAAAAAAAAAAAA.}

"My father died," she stated.

{Well I know that much. I was there. Semi-there. Kind of there. There for the after-party death part. Okay that's very insensitive. It's called a funeral anyways. Time to shut up now, Suave's thoughts.} Suave forced away a cringe and kept their eyes anywhere but the blond in front of them.

"There was a funeral." Gwen's voice strained and her eyes pierced right through Suave's cool, collected walls. She tried to move to get into Suave's (Peter's?) line of sight but the dude kept avoiding it.

{SO the after-party of death is not the funeral in this case. Good to know.}

"They shot off rifles..." Her voice began to break and her eyes welled with tears. "...and they–they made speeches."

Thunder cracked and lit up the quiet lobby, booming around the room.

Suave winced at the noise, but that wasn't their current concern. They could feel a force in their mind push through. It was Peter. Peter was reacting to Gwen being there and trying to take control. Suave let themself go and listened to Gwen's voice turn muffled in their head. Their world went dark.