HOW COULD YOU DO THIS? || P.P

S E V E N ;

"Wha- what?" Peter blubbered, you'd never seen someone so rattled and scared in your whole life. You knew that whatever had control of him in his dream was still in his head and it wasn't leaving anytime soon.

As you slept that night, you actually felt peaceful. You didn't dream of your newfound friends dying or the troubled boy in the next room over killing people. Well, that was until you heard soft muttering coming from Peter's room. Although it was rather quiet it woke you, not exactly the most pleasant thing to wake up to. It almost sounded satanic, you got out of bed and walked to Peter's doorway. He sat upright in his bed, stiff as stone, unmoving.

"Peter?" You whispered to the boy, the voice that responded was not Peter's, it came from him but it was low, scraping, almost demonic, "who's Peter?" The voice asked, sounding almost playful. A chill ran down your spine, Peter's body fell back down flat then he propped himself back up sleepily. "Y/N, what are you doing here?" He asked, having absolutely no idea what just happened.

As you retold the events of that night to Tony, you just felt useless. Everyone else in the building had some sort of use, to you it just seemed like you were a crystal ball, you foretold things that obviously couldn't be avoided. Even after several hours, your mind was still troubled by the emptiness and evil in the voice. Peter sat across from you, he didn't dare meet your gaze, "I could've hurt you," he whispered, looking down at his shaky hands. "But you didn't," you assured him, taking his twitching hands in yours.

"Just kill me." His words thundered in your head, Tony choked on his coffee a little, "Peter, no way will we do that, we'll find another way," he said a little desperately, looking very shaken by the boys words. "You all know that it would be for the best! That way I couldn't kill anyone," Peter said louder, more desperate too, he was almost pleading. "Peter, we won't do that, like Tony said, we'll find another way!" Wanda spoke up, placing her hands on the table, looking pretty scary. "None of us are living with your death on our hands, Peter," Tony said, gentler now. "What about me?!" Peter yelled abruptly, "I don't wanna live with your deaths on my hands but you're making me aren't you!" He slammed his fists on the table, cracking the glass a little and storming out. .