❝ and even as we fall, my eyes will still be on you ❞
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four identities
two teenagers
one love
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| peter parker // oc |
| marvel mcu |
| pre civil war → endgame |
| #1 in Peter Parker Fanfic |
| #2 in Spider-Man |
| #1 in Marvel Fanfic |
| s...
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» what she's made of «
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❝ show yourself, step into the power. throw yourself into something new. you are the one you've been waiting for all of your life ❞
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YEAR AFTER YEAR, SCOUT PAXTON HAD ALWAYS WONDERED WHY SHE WAS THE SOLE SURVIVOR OF THE ATTACK OF JUNE FOURTEENTH. It didn't make sense, it denied the laws of every biological, chemical and physical science. It was a medical miracle, and media across the nation had described it as a symbol of hope amongst the darkness and distress the attack had brought. Yet, there was nothing special about Scout. No genetic fluke that made her able to survive, no protective gear, no supernatural favor placed upon her by the gods. She was just a normal girl who'd lived through something extraordinary. It was a one in a million chance and would never make sense.
Or so she thought.
Scout opened her eyes, the bright fluorescent lights of a hospital room meeting her irises. Squinting against the harsh exposure, her head felt heavy and her neck rolled to the side, fingers lifting up to brush the loose, tangled threads of hair from her face. It was then that she noticed the stiff, plastic bracelet that cuffed her wrist and the needle secured in her hand with a piece of gauze and tape.
She looked closely at the date printed on the bracelet. June 15, 2016. Her heart instantly skipped a beat, and she sat up straighter, immediately being brought back to her senses. She recognized the vase of lilies that had sat on her bedside table for nearly two weeks and the stuffed animals crowding the windowsill. She remembered how, despite it being less than twenty-four hours since the attack, several people had sent their condolences and well wishes in the form of flora and plush toys.
Initially, nothing but a faint beeping sound from the heart monitor filled her ears. Her eyes looked up to the television that was mounted on the far wall, and she reached over to her table for the remote. Switching it on, she clicked through the channels until a particular news report showed up.
