Peter Parker Imagines

Rewrite The Stars (2)

"Wh-where am I?" Peter murmured groggily into the air, squinting at the light shining in through the window. All of his limbs ached and his lungs burned, and he coughed while squeezing his eyes closed.

After a moment he sat up, his head immediately spinning. He continued to keep his eyes squinted as he looked at the window, the sun shining against the wall. It seemed to be sunset, the moon racing to come and greet the sky as the dark surroundings accompanied it. But then he noticed that the window was broken, shards of glass outlining the frame.

He opened his eyes more and turned his head, scanning the room while his alertness began to kick in. There was glass everywhere, and only dust could be seen against the faded hardwood and peeling walls.

Suddenly he saw movement, and craned his head to see a figure sitting in a chair by a second window, legs up and resting on the sill of it. Their right hand was on their left arm, placing a tissue on something, not noticing him.

"Where am I?" He asked louder, and the figure turned to him. "Silk?" He asked after a moment, then sighed in relief, "Oh god, what happened?" She stayed silent for a moment, just observing him. She tilted her head slightly to the side before sighing gently and putting the tissue in her lap.

"You nearly drowned, Peter, I got you out of the water and flew over to the closest abandoned building there was." She explained, but his eyes widened at one detail that she mentioned, and he sat up straighter while staring her down, eyes narrowing.

"What did you just call me?" He question echoed through the room, making her purse her lips under her mask. She sighed and rubbed her right fingers against her forehead in an attempt to calm her nerves.

Peter's hands went up and met with his face, and he grazed his soft skin, breath leaving his lungs. He turned to the side to see his mask on the nightstand next to the bed along with a bottle of water, and his eyes widened impossibly more.

"You weren't breathing," She said quickly, "I had to do something. I know we made a pact of not seeing one another under the mask, but I couldn't let you die, Peter."

"How do you know who I am?" He asked while shimming back into the bed, creating distance between them. She scoffed, "Do you seriously think I'm a threat? We're partners!"

"How do you know who I am?" He growled this time, and she sighed while shaking her head. Her hand was brought up to her head, and she grabbed the mask, ripping it off with one swipe. Her baby hairs went astray as she turned back to him, curious of his reaction.

"Lee." He stated, completely dumbfounded as his gaze wouldn't leave hers. She pursed her lips and turned away, standing up. She sighed and walked over to him and leaned onto the edge of the bed, now examining him. His eyes immediately migrated to the piece of cloth wrapped around her upper arm and tied tightly, stray crimson stains scattered on the material.

"The cut on your forehead isn't bad anymore, you're healing up nicely." The girl said, and he slowly shook his head, not believing his eyes, "You're Lee Ceejay? You're Silk?"

She nodded wordlessly and took a step back, walking over to pick up her mask. It broke her heart to hear the disbelief in his voice, to feel the hate. They were bitter enemies at school, and it stung to know that they would continue that here, too. She loved the friend, or potential lover, that Spider-Man has become, she adored his personality and swooned whenever he talked. How could she have been so blind?

"Well, that was unexpected." He muttered while turning straight, blinking hardly. She sighed and picked up the mask, examining it. This wouldn't conceal her identity, and at one point it used to be her haven, but now it's her Hell. This is what caused such problems. The masks are what causes pain.