Be There For You {Book Two}

The Second Letter

*Heya lovely's, how's it going? This will be a really fucking pathetic excuse for a chapter but its kinda important I guess so ur stuck with it. Don't really have much to say other than me doing this memorial thing for Tia, me and a couple of our friends are planting a bunch of shit. There will be cake and tea apparently, so I think it'll be nice. Now, ur turn. Tell me about you :)*

No One's POV

It was nearly 3am, nearly everyone was asleep. Wade in Peters bedroom, Sofia in her own with her two dads sleeping on the floor in sleeping bags. Peter, who had been laying awake, was trying to figure out how to sit up without waking Harley -who had his arms wrapped around him-. He shifted his body downwards so he could slip out of the arms of his boyfriend before he sat up. By the time he had escaped the warm embrace of Harley Keeners arms Peter sat up and stretched; every bone in his body ached but the anticipation of what he was about to read made him feel a tiny bit better.

Once his eyes landed on the letter that he had just pulled out from under his pillow the anxiety started to build up. So, instead, Peter decided to open Neds letter first.

Dear Pete,

Not sure if you've been getting my texts, maybe you're busy, but I want to say hi.
Sorry I know you never told me your address, but I was worried when I didn't hear from you and my mom told me about May, so I went to Delmar's (you still go there?) to ask if he knew it and he did. He's a good man, I know he won't give up your address to the police. How did the whole thing go down with May? And how the fuck are you living in an apartment by yourself? Your boyfriend live with you? Wade?
Anyway, text me. Would love to see you soon.

-Ned

It was nice but annoying. Nice because it distracted Peter of the reality of his next letter but annoying because he realised, he'd been a shit friend and felt guilty for no matter what his logic told him about it. Instead of letting himself overthink it Peter shot Ned a text saying he'd try and clear his schedule for them to meet soon (knowing full well he probably wasn't going to even try). And with that out of the way Peter found what courage was left in his sleep deprived body to open the god forsaken letter.

The yellowed, crusted, paper made a weirdly satisfying noises as he slowly opened it. The letter inside was folded up but the signs of the dark green ink, matching the cursive writing on the envelope in the same ink; 'Питер Бенджамин Паркер'. (Peter Benjamin Parker)
Wow, upgraded from just 'Parker' to my full name, Peter thought, trying to make himself laugh but to no prevail. All this did was make the knot in his stomach tighten. An overwhelming feeling to crumple up the letter and toss it out the window, to leave it all behind, but it doesn't work like that. Peter knew he would have to read it and then figure out his next course of action. All he could hope for was that this letter was telling him it was all a joke and that no harm would come to him or his family... that's all he could hope for. With gentle grace Peter unfolded the stained paper, revealing the deep dark contents.

Дорогой Питер Бенджамин Паркер,

Кажется, вы не получили наше последнее сообщение, ничего страшного, мы были не так вежливы, как должны были. Итак, мы сделаем это более ясным сейчас. У вас нет выбора в этом. Ваш дом зовет вас. Прийти. Это разоблачение было сделано для вас.

Мы не ожидаем, что это произойдет быстро — мы не должны вызывать подозрений, — но вы должны помнить, что мы всегда наблюдаем. Итак, еще раз, мы расскажем вам ваши инструкции.

-Вы должны изолировать себя от общества

-оставь друзей

- бросить школу и работу

-ты должен медленно исчезнуть

-Тогда ты вернешься домой.

Это ваше последнее «предупреждение». В следующий раз тебе не повезет. Ты был хорошим солдатом, Паук, так что у тебя есть шанс, но в следующий раз, когда ты нас проигнорируешь, мы вышибем кому-нибудь мозги. Не испытывай нас.

P.S. Передайте от нас привет мистеру Уэйду Уилсону.

(Dear Peter Benjamin Parker,
Seems you did not get our last message, that's okay, we were not as polite as we should have been. So, we will make it more clear now. You do not have a choice in this. Your home is calling you. Come. This decision has been made for you.
We do not expect this to happen quickly -we must not raise suspicion- but you must remember that we are always watching. So, again, we will tell you your instructions.

-You must isolate yourself from society

-leave your friends

-leave school and jobs

-you must slowly disappear

-then you will come home.
This is you last 'warning'. Next time you won't get lucky. You were a good solider, Spider, so you have one pass, but next time you ignore us, we will blow someone's brains out. Don't test us.

P.S. Say hello to a Mr Wade Wilson for us.)

Strangely, this did not instantly freak Peter out. Weirdly enough, this one was much more comforting – or maybe this just wasn't a shock anymore. Instead of having a mental breakdown Peters brain went into nerd mode. He instantly leaned over and took Sofia's Disney Princess notebook, and her 101 Dalmatians pen so he could start analysing both letters. Though they were written in different languages, therefore making it difficult for him to match up letters, but nothing too difficult for the smartest 16-year-old (that wasn't from Wakanda). Within minutes he found 15 matching letters which let him know that it was the same person writing it both times, but they always said 'we' not 'I' which implied that whoever was writing it was trying to pass on the message that more than one person was aware of what was going on. There was no address on the envelope (his or a return address) so it was to feel more personal along with the use of his name not number. But the word 'Spider' confirmed that it was them, it was Hydra or the Red Room. The only other people that new were his family and there was no doubt in his mind that they would never try and play that sort of sick pranks on him.

So that was it.

Peter had to start to play along with at least a bit of their plan, otherwise someone could be in trouble. And Peter wasn't prepared to risk the life of anyone. But he selfishly didn't want to give up the life he had finally gotten, so he made his own plan. Peter was going to have to quit working at SI (as they somehow knew he was still working there) and figure out how to keep earning money -selling drugs maybe? -. But he wasn't going to give up on his friends. Not just yet.

With this newfound plan of action Peter ripped out the page as quietly as possible before folding it up and slipping it in with the new and old letter. Once he had stuffed it in the pillowcase, he shuffled himself back inside his sleeping bag. As he got comfortable and moved around his pillow, so he didn't have to feel the paper of hell crumple beneath the weight of his head, Peter shuffled over to where Harley had moved to in his sleep and wrapped his arms around him. Harley shifted against him, turning to wrap his arms back around Peter, nuzzling his head into Peters chest, a soft smile creeping up onto his face, another one creeping up on Peters face as well. Warmth. That's what he felt, warmth. So, Peter took every second as a blessing which he soaked up and appreciated to the fullest, not knowing how long they had left to be this obliviously happy.

But for tonight, it was all okay.

*I'm so sorry, this was supposed to be out a day after the last one, but some circumstances held that up, but I hope this was okay... :))*