Spider-Man Imagines I

Spider-Man's Girl | Peter Parker [TH]

You threw yourself forward, back leaving the mattress. Your clammy hands made fists around the comforter wrapped around your legs. You gasped for air that moments ago felt impossible to inhale.

The fragments of your nightmare shattered away around you, opening your mind back up to reality.

Reality where you were out of that fire, out of the school before it blew.

Reality where Peter had saved you, crying underneath his mask, begging you to be okay as he carried you out of the window.

Reality where the fire wad long gone and you could move on.

But you weren't strong enough to.

You didn't like to call Peter when these nightmares happened. You rarely ever told him they occurred ever, because he had a lot of guilt. He didn't stop Green Goblin in time and made a giant target out of that entire school, and out of you.

And so, nine months ago, Green Goblin threw a ball of flames in through your science room window and set the entire place ablaze.

And as you sat on your bed, gasping for air still, you could feel the heat on your skin, getting hotter and hotter until it was blistering and unbearable. You could see the red and orange flames behind closed lids. You could hear the sounds of pained and horrified screams, the sounds of beakers shattering and pipes bursting, the fire alarm blaring louder and louder, the bright white light flashing-

And in your head, clear as day, you heard:

"There she is! There's Spider-Man's favorite girl!" It was followed by a laugh so mad and horrifying and familiar and clear in your head that you smothered a scream with your palm.

You launched yourself over your bed and partly onto the floor. You grabbed your phone which was plugged into the wall and turned it on. The bright light of the screen made you flinch as your sensitive eyes filled with tears.

You went to your contacts, trembling fingers tapping on Peter's name, on the picture of you both hugging in front of the Christmas lights in the zoo, wrapped up in scarves and coats.

It was three a.m., you realized, but the line was already ringing before you had the sense to hang up and go back to bed.

"H-Hello?" his voice asked, thick with sleep.

"I'm sorry," you said automatically, chewing your lip. "It's late and I really shouldn't have-"

You heard him shuffling. "Hang on - you're shaking. Your voice. Are you okay?"

"I, um, no?" You licked your lips and sniffed. "Pete, I keep having dreams. They're nightmares. I can't sleep because I keep thinking of the f-fire- and when I finally doze off I remember-"

"___," he said sadly, "what can I do?"

"I need you, Peter," you sobbed. "I-I can't do this-" You covered your mouth and hiccuped. "I'm so scared."

"Hey," he said. "Hey. I promised you that I'd never let anything happen to you, and I'm serious. I'm on my way, just hang tight."

"Okay," you said. "Will you stay on the phone with me?"

"Yes," he said. "I'm... I'm going to put the phone down for a second, though... I need to put a hoodie on."

"Okay."

A moment later, his voice came up. "Okay, I'm leaving now." You heard him slide the window up.

"I'm sorry, Peter," you said softly, leaning back against your pillows. "I feel so stupid now." The nightmare had melted away, faded memories of it taunting you, but it was far away. It couldn't touch you. "I'm sorry."

"Hey, don't apologize," he said. "I'm gonna be here for you always, you know. You're my girl." He went quiet, probably embarrassed. Your cheeks lit up pink. "Unlock your window. I'm almost there."

You got up and unlocked the window, sliding it up. The cool breeze felt nice against your skin. You sat down on your bed and put the phone on your ear.

"I'm gonna hang up," he said. "I'll see you in a minute, okay?"

"Okay."

You put your phone down as the line cut off. A second later, with a light thud, Peter's feet hit the window sill. He ducked under the pane and slipped inside, worried eyes landing on you.

All you had to do was open your arms and he sat down on the edge of your bed, opening his and drawing you to his chest. He put his head on yours and sucked in a deep, shaky breath.

"I know I let you down once," he said. "I know I didn't save you fast enough, but I promise - I freaking promise - that nothing will ever come close to hurting you again."

He rubbed your back and you started to cry again, remembering the way he held you last time, when he jumped out of the window with you in his arms, smelling of smoke and sweat, and passed you to one of the EMTs, who strapped you down on a gurney, cradling your burned neck.

"I promise, ___," he said, crying. "You have every right to be scared and unsure. You have every right to doubt me. But I promise that I'll never be that reckless to let someone find you again." He pulled you back and cupped your face in one hand. His face was wet as his eyes trailed to the line of burns from your shoulder to your chin. He leaned in and pressed his face to the ruined skin there.

"You're my girl, you know? And yeah, that means danger, and lots of it. But it also means that over anyone in the world, you're the one I'll be protecting always, even if this Spider-Man thing is over. Because you're my girl."

You smiled and pulled him closer. His chin rested on your shoulder and your hand went to his hair.

You wanted to kiss him but didn't at the same time, because this moment was bittersweet. He was your best friend and hero and you were his girl. You were scared and doubtful and he understood that. He accepted that.

And he held you for the rest of that night because you couldn't sleep.