《IN MY BLOOD》{1} ≼Peter Parker≽

Chapter 6: It's only a dream

Just have a drink and you'll feel better

NEWT SHOT UP FROM HIS SLUMBER,  FRIGHTENED BY THE PICTURES IN HIS MIND. He looked around, noticing Peter was still asleep but stirred. His head fell back onto the pillow, turning around as thoughts consumed him.

It was all a dream. He isn't here. He is gone. There is no way he will return. And why would he want to return? There was no reason for him to want to return. He had left because of you. If he was to return you would be dead. But it looked like his hand-writing.

Newt flipped around, walking around as quietly as he could. But, with Peter's powers, he had become more aware of the things that surrounded him. Peter turned around, seeing Newt at his door. As if he was shadowing the door. Newt was just deciding if he should enter.

Newt's hand hovered over the door that was a little open. He didn't want to just walk in, that would be rude. But, if Peter was sleeping the knock would wake him. Newt looked through the cracks, seeing Peter lay in his bed.

Newt frowned, gulping. He couldn't enter the room. He wasn't risking the boy waking up for his own reason he wouldn't be able to explain. It would be selfish. Peter is a superhero, he deals with real problems, not a stupid nightmare.

Newt turned around, not knowing that Peter had heard his footsteps walk away. Which had worried him. But, he couldn't walk up to the boy, or else he would know he was listening. And possibly think he was listening to his and May's conversation as well. And he didn't want Newt to not trust him. But, he couldn't ignore when Newt's breathing picked up quickly when he went to check on him.

Peter stared at the boy, the boy who currently was having a rough time breathing and catching his breath. Newt's mumbled words were hardly heard, as it was below a whisper. So low that it could be mistaken with him just plainly breathing. But his breathing was the one that sounded horrible like he was in a head-lock and couldn't get the arm off his neck. As if there was an invisible hand around his neck, one that he seemed he couldn't find.

Peter ran towards the boy, shaking him awake when he shot up and grabbed the hands. And in an instant, Peter was on the ground, with the boy pinning his hands to the floor with one while the other had grabbed some sort of sharp object. He froze, seeing Peter. Newt looked at him, now fear written all over his face.

"Peter?"

His hand fell, the object hitting the ground as Newt fell against the couch. His back hit the couch with a hard thump. But it was as if he didn't care. And he didn't care. He had hurt Peter. One of the people he would never want to hurt. it was as if he thought he caused himself pain it would make up for the person he hurt.