skulls

008, BESIDE YOU!

SKULLS / CHAPTER EIGHT
BESIDE YOU!

———

PETER ISN'T IN SCHOOL THE FOLLOWING DAY.

Silas is in two minds about it - one half, the more rational half insists that he must just be off sick, but he also knows how dangerous it is for him on a daily basis, and how high the chance is of him being dead.

It's scaring Silas, how he's started to think - somebody disappearing for a day instantly translates into 'oh, they're dead' in his mind.

He struggles through his lessons that day, but by third period, the tremor in his hands is starting to get worse. The soft, taunting voice in his head is screaming and shouting its metaphorical lungs raw. It takes far too much effort to not break down in the middle of the corridors.

Ned tries to ask him what's wrong, but it sounds like he's drowning underwater. Only at that point does Silas realise that he's crying gently, and now the teardrops on his Algebra worksheet make sense.

To Silas' annoyance and mild discomfort, Ned raises his hand to summon their supply teacher for the day, a young, brunette woman who's a refreshing change to the usual wizened old man who wheezes his way through every lesson they have with him. She turns around and raises her eyebrows at Ned, who begins to loudly explain how Silas is sad and he isn't sure why.

She notices Silas staring into his desk intently, and commands the rest of the class to work through questions one to thirteen and then the extension if they finish, before gliding methodically through the space between the tables.

"Are you OK?" She says quietly, and Silas feels bad for not learning her name now - she seems to have good intentions, at least. After a few seconds of mental debate, Silas shakes his head, and she presses her lips together.

"Do you want to go and get some fresh air or something?" To this, Silas nods frantically; he'd go and jump into a volcano to escape the glaring eyes of his classmates right about now. She scrawls a note onto a small square of torn paper, before indicating for him to finally leave.

———

As he ducks under the barrier that's been there ever since he started attending this school, Silas is trying to remember how to breathe and untangle his headphones at the same time as he presses his body into the corner of the bathroom stall.

Just as he's distracted, his phone starts to ring violently, playing a loud, 8-bit rendition of 'Killer Queen'. He's had it set as that for as long as he can remember, and the song will forever bring back painful memories of that dreaded phone call.

The number displayed on-screen looks familiar, but Silas' panic-clouded mind can't place it, so he gingerly slides the phone icon across and holds the phone up to his ear. Whoever it is on the other end doesn't say anything immediately, so Silas attempts to stumble a faint greeting out of his mouth.

"Hello? Silas?"

There's a faint gasping noise that must come from the black-haired boy, but he's so detached from reality at this point that it doesn't feel like it can be.

"Peter? Oh my God, I've been so worried! Where are you?" He can't keep the fear out of his voice, no matter how hard he tries. It's the culmination of everything that's been happening for the last two weeks, ever since he met Spiderman.

Peter laughs from the other end, and then there's a slight crash from his side of the call. Silas jumps more than is probably necessary. "Don't need to go full Mrs. Weasley on me."

He can't help it. The shaking in his hands makes him drop his phone as he slides down into a sitting position, back parallel to the dirty, graffitied wall. There are tears spiking at the corners of his eyes, and combined with the dust in the air, Silas can barely see straight ahead.

"Silas?"

"I'm OK." He whispers, as more of a life-affirming statement than consolation to Peter. "I'm OK. I can breathe. In and out, in and out."

"Silas, please tell me you're OK..."

Finally, he stops being so fucking selfish and retrieves his phone off the floor, ignores the hairline crack across the corner where it hit the tile, and holds it up to his face again. "I-I am. Please come back. Please be OK."

Peter doesn't say anything about the odd choice of words as Silas ends the call and leans his head against the wall, next to some graffiti denouncing a girl in the year below as something he doesn't really care to think about.

Silas hates admitting how goddamn invested he is in Peter, and how much he wants the boy to be OK, and how he regrets ever allowing him to become friends with him.

Because in Silas' line of work, he's sure to die sooner or later. He accepts that fact, welcomes it, even.

word count: 847!
thanks for reading!