❝ and even as we fall, my eyes will still be on you ❞
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four identities
two teenagers
one love
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| peter parker // oc |
| marvel mcu |
| pre civil war → endgame |
| #1 in Peter Parker Fanfic |
| #2 in Spider-Man |
| #1 in Marvel Fanfic |
| s...
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» death's waiting game «
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[ ONE YEAR LATER ]
THE BRIGHT, FRESHLY CUT TULIPS PORTRAYED HAPPINESS THROUGH THEIR JOYFUL, YELLOW HUE, BUT ALL SCOUT PAXTON FELT INSIDE WAS THE COLOR BLUE. Her feet quietly padded along the bleak, white hallway of the hospital, only the whispers of people in the waiting room nearby and the confined conversations between nurses filled her ears. Scout tried to keep her head held high. She wasn't going to cry, she knew it would only make things worse. This wasn't about her.
She found herself standing outside the room labeled 404, a place she had been visiting too often lately, a place she wished she had never come to know. She lightly tapped her knuckles against the slightly ajar wooden door before slipping inside. The only light was the sunshine coming from the small window, and even that seemed to be pretty dim.
Placing the bouquet of flowers on the nearest table, Scout didn't hesitate to crouch down on her knees at the side of the bed. There laid her grandmother, her eyes closed and lips slightly parted. Scout grimaced at the tube coming from her mouth, and she hated the way all the color had been drained from the old woman's face.
She reached forward, grabbing her cold, wrinkled hand, and she held it tenderly. She gently ran her thumb along the bruised skin, being mindful of the IV, and she stared helplessly at her grandmother's face. She'd been asleep like this for days.
"Hi, Nani. It's Scout," The seventeen year old girl whispered quietly. She liked to believe her grandmother could hear her, or at lease sense her presence. Although the old woman was unresponsive, the beeping of the heart monitor being the only indication she was alive, Scout spoke to her as if she was sitting on the couch back at their apartment. "I brought you a fresh cut of flowers. Tulips, your favorite."
There of course was no answer to her words, and Scout had grown used to this. It had been three long weeks, but she made sure to come visit Nani each day. She'd been on the ventilator for nearly seven days, and the nurse had informed Scout that she had tried to pull it out after two days. This surprised Scout, for usually her grandmother was easy going and relaxed. She figured that being sick, especially in such old age, changed people.
