There are three simple rules Nellie Jenkins must follow as she orchestrates an article for the school newspaper on fellow classmate, Peter Parker.
Rule #1. Do not observe the person you are writing about outside of school grounds.
Rule #2. Do not mi...
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Nellie's eyelids fluttered open, cold droplets caught in her eyelashes. Her body was suspended in air, the wind nipping at her exposed skin like sharp glass. The world around her was blurry, but her eyes soon adjusted, pretty lights and the night sky clear above her. She was unsure if she was even awake, her body aching and shivering. Her soaked dress clung to her like a second skin. There was a bitter, coppery taste on her tongue. Blood.
She felt completely disoriented, but the bridge coming into view above her struck something in her mind. She remembered the color red, like a rose. She could envision blue, like the ocean. She recalled white light, like the kind that poured into her childhood bedroom on Sunday mornings.
Nellie realized she was being lifted, a force pulling her by her waist. She tried lifting her head, but she saw white spots and leaned back again, her body dangling from whatever it was hoisting her up and away from the frigid water below.
Peter. Tony. MJ. Ned. Those that she'd grown to care so much about came to mind. Her eyes focused on the sparkling stars like freckles across the sky. She smiled.
Peter. Negative. The fight. She fell. She was submerged. Fear. The cold. She frowned.
Everything came flooding back in, and she gasped for air. Peter came into view, his mask now no longer covering his face. She could see the speck of gold in his brown eyes. She could see the relief on his face upon realizing she was looking at him.
His webbing was holding her right at her belly-button, and soon, she was high enough that he reached down and grabbed ahold of her with his hands. A tear glistened in his eyes and he laid her onto the safety of the bridge.
Peter held Nellie's head against his chest as she heard a sob escape his body. She was shaking from the cold, but his arms and chest offered her warmth and comfort.
"I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry," Peter repeated over and over again, his hand clutching the side of her face.
Nellie still felt foggy, but the fear she had once held had not yet returned. She leaned into him as she trembled, her hand reaching to feel her locket, but it was no longer around her neck. She remembered it falling just before she did. She didn't feel as whole without it.
"Peter, my locket." She croaked out, blood falling from her lip onto his arm.
Peter chuckled, yet still tears fell from his eyes, "I'll get you another, Nells. Don't you worry. There are plenty of lockets out there, but there is only one Nellie Jenkins."
He looked down at her and wiped the blood off of her lip with his gloved hand. Nellie could hear his heart pounding as her ear was pressed against his chest. She let out a relieved sigh, her eyes closing. In his arms, she felt safer than she ever had before.
"How you doin', kid? Ready to go home?" A familiar voice caused Nellie to open her eyes and she was met with a warm smile from Tony Stark.
Home. Her body stopped shaking at the thought. She felt warmer. Tonight hadn't turned out the way she'd anticipated, but she was going to her new home, where she would never have to worry about being hurt again.
