The Soul World

Recovery

As Peter slept, his mind whirled in and out of consciousness. Flashes of memory rose up like some chaotic dream and events from his past and present merged into a hazy vision until he couldn't distinguish his nightmares from reality.

—A burst of orange light. He was looking at the rocket in his hand, but it wasn't the rocket at all. It was a miniature Vulture, trying to fly from his hand. His suit crackled with sparks and the engine whirred. Peter was filled with desperation

"Your wingsuit- your wingsuit's gonna explode!" He yelled, warning the Vulture. But he wouldn't listen. The suit exploded and Peter was blinded. Pain wracked across his body.

Suddenly, it was Robert on the beach and he was falling into the flames.

"I'm trying to save you!" Peter cried out.

"Time to go home, Benjamin," said Robert, his voice a twisted imitation of the Vulture's. Before Peter could reach him, he was engulfed by the flames.

The scene switched again. Ned was standing in front of him, next to Aunt May, and Tony was there too.

"Peter?" Ned quivered, "I don't feel so good..."

"No," Peter murmured, looking at his closest friends. May began to cry. "Shh, it's alright," he whispered, trying to reassure her.

A hand clapped him on the shoulder. It was a familiar gesture, but this time it felt wrong, the fingers digging in with force. Peter turned. Tony was glaring at him, shaking his head.

"I wanted you to be better."

"I tried!" Peter protested. Too late... They crumbled to dust before him and he was left clutching at their ashes.—

As the dreams went on, Peter suddenly felt a blanket of warm, blue light settling over him. Dimly, he realised it was Mantis' power. Snuggled in its comforting energy, Peter's mind finally settled down and he fell into the unconscious depths of sleep, to rest and recuperate...

Four days later...

"Mmmnnngghgnhhh," groaned Peter. He blinked open his eyes, wincing in agony, and blearily stared upwards. A silhouette leaned over him, haloed in an ethereal glow from the sky. As Peter focused, the silhouette coalesced into a man with long, brown hair and a beard, who wore simple clothes and had one arm that shone, as if reflecting the light. He smiled down at Peter.

Peter's mind, delirious from days of sleeping and an overactive imagination, could only come to one conclusion:

"Jesus?" he mumbled.

"You alright kid?" Said the bearded man, his voice as melodic and calm as Peter imagined any heavenly spirit's could be.

Instead of answering, Peter was distracted by a figure in the distance with great, majestic wings and burning red eyes. His wings extended and caught the light, making them look as if they were on fire.

"I've never seen an angel before," Peter gasped, awestruck.

The angel cackled. "I've heard a lotta pickup lines but that's new!"

Peter furrowed his brows and tried to sit up as the angel folded up his wings. Without the glare of the sun, he looked alarmingly like... Falcon?

"Hey kid, don't push yourself," said Jesus, for Peter was trying to get up. "Your super healing is good, but it'll be a while before you're back to normal. You took quite a blow - scared the heck out of us, we thought you were dead!"