Peter's Dream

Peter's Dream - Part 3

You woke up in the middle of the night to a snoring Peter. You could tell it was still late based on the lack of light shining through the windows. Plus, if you listened close enough, you were sure you could hear the faint sound of crickets singing through the static-y silence.

You wondered what time it was, but the question drifted out of your mind as you took in Peter's peaceful figure, still passed out and snoring away. You lovingly admired the man's his side profile, how his nose curved to a soft point, how his lips slightly parted as air went in and out of his lungs. A smile crept onto your face as you took in the calmness surrounding him. Something about this man made warmth grow in your chest. You had never felt it before meeting him. Sometimes it was just a small blaze deep inside your heart, and other times it would burn so ferociously that it would take up your entire body. You weren't sure what it meant, but you also weren't sure you wanted to find out at this point in time. Someday, maybe, but not today.

You sat up carefully on the couch, causing a shift in weight that knocked Peter out of his slumber.

"Shit, sorry. I didn't mean to wake you," you whispered.

"It's fine, love," he answered groggily, rubbing his eyes. You could've sworn your heart skipped a beat at the sound of his tired voice. "What time is it?"

You shrugged your shoulders, so Peter lazily tugged his phone out of his pocket. The screen lit up and he winced at the brightness, which earned a small chuckle from you. He glared back at you before returning his gaze to the screen. He sighed.

"What?"

"It's 4 a.m."

You winced. "Yikes."

"Guess we were out," Peter said with a laugh.

"I'll say. You were even snoring," you said with a giggle. He scrunched his nose up at the comment.

"Was not. I don't snore."

"Oh, I think ya do. Heard it with my own ears."

"Bullshit," he said, shaking his head. Peter couldn't stop the wide smile that had begun its spread across his face.

"So... what happened last night?" you asked reluctantly. His smile faded.

Peter shifted uncomfortably on the couch, and he looked to be trying to piece words together in his head. You waited patiently, letting his gears turn.

"I gave Jack what he deserved," he replied matter-of-factly. "More importantly, are you okay?"

"You did what?! When??" you asked frantically, disregarding his question. Panic immediately rose, flooding through your entire body.

"Last night, after you fell asleep. I couldn't just stand by and do nothing when he hurt the most important person in my life." A pang went straight to your heart at his words.

You took Peter's hand, scanning it for bruising, scanning his face and neck after.

"I'm fine, (Y/N)."

You continued your search for any kind of marks on him that indicated he had gotten hurt. After a few more seconds, Peter squeezed the hand that was holding his reassuringly. You returned your gaze to him.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

A beat of silence as you contemplated.

"To be honest," you started, your tear ducts starting to betray you already. "No."

A single tear rolled down your round cheek, and Peter reached his hand up to gently brush it off using the pad of his thumb. You leaned into his touch as he cupped your cheek.