die for you ➪ p. parker

𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚒𝚡

𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚒𝚏𝚝 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚜 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚜𝚞𝚌𝚔
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The small store was quite empty but the clothes were bountiful. Racks were stuffed full of old shirts and pants.

I beamed and grabbed Peter by the wrist, "Let's go!"

We wandered all over the store picking up random articles of clothing as we went along. We found a few shirts that would do for our characters but we were just messing around, for the most part. Until the door swung open and three men entered with guns held in the air.

"Everybody put your hands on your heads and sit down!" The one in front ordered. I dropped to the ground but Peter stood in shock.

"Parker, sit down," I tugged on his arm and he looked down at me.

"Oh, right, sorry," He mumbled, sitting down beside me with his hands on his head.

The robbers walked around, taking any cash from the register.

"Now, why would they rob a thrift store?" I mumbled to myself.

I couldn't hear much of what was happening since I wasn't paying attention but the police showed up soon. There was a negotiator and everything.

Peter was pretty tense, the whole time. He kept glancing nervously around the room.

Before I knew it, I was being pulled to my feet, but not by Peter.

One of the men had an arm around my neck and a gun to my head. My eyes widened and I tried to look at Peter but the man's grip was tight.

"You take one more step and my friend here shoots her," The one that seemed to be in charge yelled through the now open door.

This was a pretty cool hostage situation, I had to admit. I mean, I was being held at gunpoint. Pretty awesome. But also terrible. Horrible and totally scary but awesome.

The policemen muttered to each other and I could make out a few phrases, "They won't actually shoot her." "We don't know that."

It seemed the robber heard too because the next thing I heard was a loud noise, then another that I identified as my own scream. My body got all tingly and my vision went all spotty. I wasn't even sure where I'd gotten shot or if I'd gotten shot but I was really dizzy.

"Let her go!" Someone yelled from behind us. It sounded like Peter but my vision was too blurry to make out the figure.

My whole body pulsed with pain and I could feel tears running down my face.

"Fine, we didn't need her anyway, Onesie-Boy."

I was thrown on the ground and I couldn't move. It was scary. So, I tried to focus on who was picking me up. 'Onesie-Boy' as the robbers had called him. That could only be Spider-Man, unless someone else ran around this city in a onesie.

"Hey, are you alright?" He asked, setting me in a chair at the back of the store. I couldn't talk or move but I hoped the look I was giving him would do as a substitute.

I didn't get to see his reaction though because I blacked out, unable to open my eyes. My breathing slowed and I was out cold.