Small World | Peter Parker

chapter ten

The door slammed against the wall after I spent a minute working the lock. I winced when the door hit the wall, and I froze. I waited for any sign from my neighbours to come out and yell at me, but nobody came.

"I can't believe you said that," I muttered, and I gripped my hair out of sheer frustration and embarrassment. I groaned after an image of Peter's face appeared. I relived the moment for a split second. "I can't believe I pushed him away,"

I threw my keys onto the kitchen counter, and I pulled off my sweater. I kicked at the air and cursed out in frustration. I was frustrated and angry at myself.

Peter had dropped me off right in front of the doorsteps of my apartment building, and we barely exchanged words. We couldn't say goodbye either because of the awkwardness between us. I couldn't believe I did that to him.

I threw myself onto my bed and pulled the covers over me. I would have to stay in bed forever, and I am too ashamed to see Peter tomorrow. I just couldn't see him after what just happened.

I would have to do this mission alone from now on. Without Peter or Spider-Man even, I had no choice -

I grabbed the knife from under my pillow and held it in the air. I pushed myself up in a crouched stance.

"Who are you?" I said between my teeth.

The man sighed, the barrel already pointed at me.

"What do you want from me?"

"You are not as skilled as you think you are with that knife," His voice was deep. He used the barrel of his gun to point at my knife.

"What makes you think I'm not?" I glared.

"Morgan," he sighed. I didn't turn on any lights when I entered the apartment. The only light came from the window. The streetlight only showed me so much of the stranger's face. He was tall but muscular. He wore dark blue jeans with a round-neck sweater.

"How do you know my name?" The knife shook in my head, and I still held the knife up toward him. I hated how my hand trembled.

He scoffed. "You're holding that wrong,"

"I can still use it to kill you," I spat harshly. He could shoot me right now if he wanted to, but he was toying with me. I couldn't look around, afraid that he would spring into an attack if I broke eye contact. "Now tell me, who the fuck are you?

He sighed and lowered the gun. He placed the gun on his lap and crossed his arms over his chest. He had long curly hair that reached the back of his neck. His hair was pushed back to expose his forehead and a beard that needed grooming. A curl fell in front of his face, and a large hand reached up to brush his hair back. "I am a friend but also your neighbour,"

I let out a sarcastic laugh, but I slowly realized he was right. I remember seeing him across the hall when I first moved in, and it was the only time I ever saw him. "What?" I clenched my jaw.

He laughed. "I'm supposed to watch over you while you work on your assignment,"

"I don't believe you," I muttered. "I think you're some kind of creep, sent here to kill me probably,"

"I was worried when you didn't return home at your usual time," he leaned against the wall. "But then I saw you on the steps with a boy,"

My arm began to ache. "So you decided to break into my home?"

"I was planning on introducing myself, but you left right away when you came home earlier today," he attempted to explain. "I figured I'd wait until later, but it can't wait any longer,"

"You are crazy,"

"My name is Sloan. I am here to help you with your final mission," he said casually as if he didn't just break into my place. "Ever since Washington, we agreed that you need assistance to help you complete this assignment,"

"Who is 'we?'"

"You know who they are,"

"I don't even know what you're talking about,"

He rolled his eyes, letting his head fall back. "I thought this would be easier," he grunted. "In DC, you stumbled upon a teenager in a blue and red suit. You were nearly killed on this mission, but that teenager saved you. The same kid who was standing outside when you came home, who just happens to be Spiderman as well, too, huh? So tell me, how would I know that?"

"I can do this on my own," I spat, and I lowered the knife. I intentionally ignored Sloane's question because I knew there was no point in arguing with him. The weapon sat on my lap as I fell back into a sitting position. "I don't need your help,"

"You asked for Spiderman's help,"

"Yes, because I trust him," I snapped. "I don't trust you. I don't even know who you are,"

"It's Sloane. I just said it,"

"I know you just said it. I don't care what your stupid name is. You don't enter somebody's home without permission. Especially in the middle of the fucking night," I rebuked. "It's not a great first impression either, so please, just leave, and I'll decide if I want to talk to you or not. Now get the fuck out of my apartment,"

"I have to let you know what happened tonight, which is why I had to make sure you were okay,"

I was tempted to throw the knife at him, even out of spite. "What happened?"

"Dion Morris was murdered," he stated quickly. My mouth fell open, and my mind refused to register his words. "A member of the organization killed him to shut him up. Apparently, he was talking to an outsider,"

"I talked to him,"

"I know," he muttered. "They see your messages which is why I know you talked to him,"

"The organization made it look like he shot himself,"

"How do you know he didn't?"

"Because that's what the organization does," He exhaled with frustration. "Look, I was worried. I thought you met him somewhere and went back home with him. I thought maybe something had happened to you, which is why I wanted to go out to search for you,"

"So I did that?" I gasped. "I got him killed?"

"You wouldn't have known the outcome," he claimed. I felt my entire body go numb and a wave of sadness. My eyes burned with frustrated tears, but I couldn't cry. "I'm sorry,"

"I don't even know him,"

"I know,"

"Oh yeah?" I scowled. "What makes you think you know how I feel? What makes you think you have any idea who I am?"

Sloane sighed, and he stood from the chair and holstered the handgun in his back pocket. He slowly walked over and knelt in front of my bed. Sloane kept his distance but held his hands up. "I was there the first time. I saved you," he murmured. "When they took you when you were five, and the second time at thirteen,"

I felt as if someone gripped my chest, a dull ache in my heart. "No,"

"I wasn't there to protect you then at thirteen, and I couldn't save your parents,"

"Stop," I gasped.

"But I stopped them before they took you to the Red Room," He rested his head into his hands. "I'm back now, and I'm going to do everything in my power to protect you and help you repay your debt."

"Stop it!" I shouted. "Get out!"

He nodded and slowly walked out of my apartment. I ran to the door and locked it. I felt the room begin to spin, and my head was pounding in my ears. My legs trembled, and I fell back against the floor, and my legs gave in. I fell onto the ground, and I felt the air leave my lungs. I struggled to breathe. I couldn't move or cry for help.

I felt my entire world cave in around me.