Spider-Man Imagines I

Tightrope (Part Three) | Peter Parker [TH]

Peter's heart was in his throat as he dropped off of the side of a paper company and hit the sidewalk in front of your house. He hurriedly walked around to your window, climbed up, and knocked. A moment later, your silhouette appeared, the curtains were hesitantly drawn, and your jaw dropped.

You unlocked the three locks on the window and hoisted it up, grimacing at the effort. Your eyes were swimming with tears as he started to climb in, reaching in for your hand, taking it, and swinging his leg over the ledge.

He stepped in and you didn't hesitate to throw your arms around him. His chest collided with yours and nearly knocked the breath out of him. He wrapped his arms around you and held you close, breathing in the scent of your shampoo. It reminded him of nights at your house or Ned's, when all three of you were huddled close together studying and your scent of floral soap overpowered all other scents.

He noticed you were shaking, but he couldn't figure out if his knock had scared you or if you were just crying, so he just held you, trying to make you feel okay.

"You have no idea," he finally said when he could speak, "how badly I've wanted to see you." He squeezed his eyes shut tightly. "It's been so hard, ___, so hard. You don't even know-"

"Shhh," you hushed him, one hand finding his curls, "it's okay. I know. It's okay."

He felt stupid. He had come here to help you feel safe, not break and fall apart in your arms. But here he was, sobbing and holding you like a child waking up from a nightmare.

He was living in a nightmare.

"How can you know?" he asked, voice muffled by the cotton of your graphic t-shirt. "How can you possibly understand everything I've-"

"I can't," you interrupted, "but I know it's hard to deal with." Your fingers tightened, pulling at his hair. "I am so glad you're here. I didn't know if you were dead or alive - and there were so many things I didn't get to say, Peter... I hope this will be over soon."

"I'm glad I'm here, too," he whispered. "I miss you."

"Will it?"

His eyebrows furrowed. "Will what?" he said.

"Will this be over soon?"

He pulled back, his hands dropping to the dip of your waist. His palms flat there, he swallowed nervously and lifted one shoulder.

"Honestly... I don't know," he said.

He dropped his gaze.

"A-and I don't know how it will end," he said. He risked one glance at you. "Do you understand that?"

It took a moment, but when a flash of utter dread touched your usually bright eyes, he knew you got it. "Peter," you whispered, "please don't say that-"

"I have to," he said, nodding fast. "I have to. ___, this is too much for us. None of us are equipped to deal with what has happened, nonetheless what is coming. I don't know if I'll make it even a day." He laughed dryly. "I mean, I'm the youngest kid on the team and I've got nothing compared to Thor and Steve and Hulk-" He had tears falling now. "I'm screwed! I am."

You were shaking your head, hands on his arms. You squeezed tight and failed to fight back your own tears. "Don't say that," you said. "Don't say that to me, Peter Parker. You're strong, I know it. You'll get out of this alive, and you'll be able to tell me every heroic thing you did, and I can tell you what I was going to tell you at the bus, which was that - that I love you, and I am in lo-"

"No," he interrupted. "Don't. Don't say that. Not now." He shook his head. "Please, I can't take it."

"I love you," you said anyway, "in every way possible."

"You can't," he sobbed. He dropped his head. "If I die-"

You tightened your grip. "You're not going to die!"

"Kid," the voice in the earpiece inside of his ear said, "it's time to head back."

He stared at you for a long moment. Then, taking in a deep breath-

"I have to go," he said.

"Already?" you asked.

"Mr. Stark is issuing a warning," he continued, "and everyone near the Avengers compound has to evacuate. Please go, ___," he said, tightening his hold on your waist, "please go. Something big is coming and I don't want to see you getting hurt."

"And I don't want to see you getting hurt," you whispered. "Please don't do this. Be careful. Come back to me-"

There was no doubt in Peter's mind that he wouldn't be able to come back. That this was it for you and him.

It killed him.

"I can't," he said, shrugging, tears falling. "I'm sorry."

"You can't say that to me-"

"___, I can't lie to you," he said. "I can't. Tell May I love her. Tell Ned he was my best friend. And you-" One hand flew up to cup your face. "You are everything to me, okay? And if I wasn't going to leave you now, I would tell you that I love you in every single way possible, too. But I am leaving and I can't say these things and so I'll just leave with a goodbye."

"Pete," you breathed.

He stepped away, dropping his hands from you, feeling your fingers slip from his arms. You stayed frozen in place as he walked back to the window and slung one leg out. He gave you a single parting glance.

"I'm sorry," he said, and he was.

He was sorry for bringing you into this.

He was sorry for saying goodbye.

He was sorry for being Spider-Man.

He was sorry for hurting you.

He was sorry for not being able to love you the way you wanted him to.

He was sorry for all of these things, and he didn't need to explain them to you, because you knew already. He could tell by the look in your eyes.

And just a moment later, he was gone, your window was shut, and Peter didn't stop crying.