Two Faced {Peter Parker}

two- bruises and scratches

My heart races as I wait for peter to arrive. The pure panic and stress in his voice was definitely something new to me- I hated it. I hated hearing how unhappy and worried he sounded. The thought of him in pain makes my stomach twist and turn in a way it never has before.

Pulling my white duvet off of me, I quietly step out of bed, careful to not wake Bean, (which I concluded was a boy), who was curled up in my blanket at the end of my bed. I slip on a pair of black shorts that were two sizes too big, and pace around the room, my mind filling with thoughts of what could have happened to peter.

Did he try sneaking out of his apartment through the window and tumble down the fire escape? No, he definitely wouldn't be alive. Did he fall off his bed so hard he got hurt and is too embarrassed to get May to help so he's coming over here instead? No, probably not, he already did that and knows not to sleep near the edge. Is he secretly apart of the most dangerous gang in the world and now everybody is after him for revenge and he needs a place to hide? No, he's way too sweet to be apart of that. Maybe peter was just sad? But at 12:00 am he brings it up?

"Oh god, peter, what happened?" I whisper to myself and run a hand through my knotted brown waves. Through the silence I hear a door slowly creek open and close, and light footsteps that sound uneven, one step much more heavier than the other. I open my bedroom door as quietly as possible, my eyes landing on his silhouette that appears to be hunched over, one hand on his knee.

"Jesus Christ Pete- what the hell?" I whisper yell, rushing towards him to wrap his arm around my shoulder, earning a noticeable wince from him. "Sorry," I whisper. His hand clutches onto my arm with an iron grip and I almost mention it, but decide on saying nothing assuming he's in pain. Gently helping him lie down on my bed, I'm able to make out part of his face thanks to the moonlight shining in through my window. His right eye is swollen with purple bruising, dried dark crimson blood is noticeable below his nose, and a small red gash is located on his bottom lip. I don't even want to think about the injuries on the rest of his fragile body.

I take in his appearance and clothing, seeing that his body is clad in a black oversized hoodie and grey sweatpants. What the hell was he doing dressed like this? Robbing a bank? "T-thanks," He sighs, his voice raspy and quiet, pain lacing it none the less. I close my door and take a seat at the end of the bed close to Bean, my mind and heart running a million miles per second. "Peter, what the hell happened to you?" My voice sounds concerned, but almost angry.

"I-I, ow, I just- look," he stumbles over his own words, his brown curly hair falling in front of his face. "Breathe, Pete," I remind. He shuts his eyes in frustration, "I was walking, right, and this guy beat me up, that's it, that's all that happened, don- don't  worry." He stares at me, waiting for me to say something, as I try and wrap my head around his idiotic words. "No. That's not just it, and don't you dare tell me to not worry. Peter, it's almost 1 am on a school night, you call me panicking and in distress, making me almost shit myself and die, you show up with the living shit beat out of you, and you tell me not to fucking worry? Why the fuck were you out at this time? Do you know how dangerous it is out there? Are you stupid? You could have fucking died, died! Dude, if you died-"

"Y/N, shh, stop, I-I wasn't gonna' die," "-and how the hell do you know that?" He stays silent. That's what I thought. By now, little Bean was awake and staring at us, his green-ish eyes big and wide with interest; what a sucker for drama, I guess.

"You better explain. Now. Then I'll help you." I sit patiently on my bed, my arms crossed as I wait for him to explain. He throws his head back and a small groan emits from his throat. "Fine. O-Okay. I can't tell you why I was out b-but," "Oh my god, you're in a gang aren't you? Aren't you? Peter they're coming after you-" "What? No! No, what are you even-? What?" His eye that isn't swollen is now squinted, looking at me like I'm the stupid one. "Thank god," panic leaves my body and I let out a sigh of relief. "Continue."

He shakes his head, probably thinking that I was a complete idiot, but i don't mind. "No, I'm not in a gang, (Y/N). Anyways, I can't tell you why I was out right now, but I will, and I promise it wasn't bad. Yes, I got hit but trust me, I'm- I'm okay. This guy was just really mean and beat me up because he was doing something bad. I promise you, everything is fine. Please, (Y/N), don't worry and don't tell May, please."

Peters voice has a tone mixed with begging and nervousness, making my anger and fear slowly fade away. Whatever he's going through, he's trusting in me and I will do anything to help him. "Okay, Peter. But whatever is happening, you need to be way more careful. I can't have you showing up in pain, covered in bruises and scratches because that hurts me Pete- not knowing what's happening to you but having to see you hurt. I'm still going to worry now, always. But fine, I won't tell May. I trust you." I finish my long speech and stand up, making my way out of my room to get supplies for his injuries.

"T-thanks, it means a lot." His voice is a lot quieter now, almost as if he's suddenly shy. Why was he being shy sometimes now, like at school, all of a sudden? Once again, I shake off the feeling and questions, and  soundlessly make my way to the bathroom. Thank goodness grandma Rose and grandpa Jo are heavy sleepers.

When I return, peter is laying fully down, his eyes shut and body clearly tense. My arms are full with peroxide, gauze, and medical items of such. "Okay, I need you to take your hoodie off." "If you wanted to see me naked, you could've just asked." Peters joking and funny side comes out, and I lightly laugh, rolling my eyes. "Shut up, you dork."

Placing everything on the old wooden counter next to my bed, I wait for peter to take his black hoodie off. I wonder when he got it, since I've never seen it. My eyes land on his torso and I almost gasp, not only because he's fucking ripped now and not so fragile after all, but because he's littered in bruises and gashes all around. "Gosh, pete, you need to be careful or else, I'm gonna beat this guy to a pulp." He laughs and a nice light shade of pink-ish red, lights up in his cheeks. "No way am I letting you get hurt."

My heart flutters in shock, and a strange feeling, almost like a tight knot, forms in the pit of my stomach, making me almost want to throw up. "Thanks Peter, you're the bestest best friend ever," I smile, pouring peroxide onto a cotton ball. "O-of course," his smile fades and he sounds almost sad again. What is up with this boy? I place the peroxide covered cotton ball on one of his many wounds, and a hissing noise leaves his lips. "Shit that hurts," he groans and tightens his grip around my now messy sheets, his fingers becoming a pale color. "Well maybe if you didn't get hurt-" "Yeah, yeah," he chuckles rolling his eyes as if he's heard it a million time before.

"Oh, hey Bean, I didn't even notice you there. Do you see her? She's killing me! Pure torture, but I bet she enjoys watching m-me suffer-" I press down harder on one of his little scratches and he winces, "Hey!" He whines, pulling his slightly blood stained pink lips into a pout. "My bad," I innocently smile, my eyes not meeting his caramel ones.

About 20 minutes pass before I finally finish cleaning up him and his injuries, and the way his head fell forward every now and then with his eyes fluttering shut did not go unnoticed by me. "T-thanks again, thanks," he quietly mumbles, his voiced hushed and full with exhaustion. "I should go now," he starts to stand but I gently push him back down.

"No way am I letting you walk home at almost 2 am like this, stay here, my grandparents won't mind at all. You need to sleep Pete, please," I plead, hoping his stubborn butt won't put up a fight. His cheeks once again flush a light pink, and he lets his head fall to the side, his eyes shutting. "Y-You need to sleep, t-too," "shush, Pete, go to sleep."

His breathing slows and evens out, his body finally looking calm and peaceful for once. I smile and cover him in my duvet, praying that he'll sleep well- and not stain my sheets too badly with his blood from earlier, but that was the least of my problems.

"Peter Parker, what in the world did I do to deserve you?" I leave my room to sleep on the couch, and I fall asleep,
my head filled and flooded with thoughts of Peter Parker.

Authors Note
Hi everyone, I apologize for having this posted so late, I won't let it happen again! Yes, this is moving pretty slow, but I don't want to rush things, I want this to be a bit realistic if you know what I mean:) thank you for taking your time and reading this, I can't believe I have over one read on it!:) I hope you sorta enjoyed this chapter.
Stonedlawley