The White Pallax (Peter Parker x Reader)

XIII - Inception

"That was insane!" You cry, jumping up and down. You're in Peter's apartment again, sitting on the couch. Nerves still electrified, you can't seem to sit still. Peter, on the other hand, is pacing the room, running his hands through his hair.

"Yeah, it was. You are the craziest person I've ever met."

You pop a marshmallow in your mouth. "Thank you."

Peter sits on the couch next to you. You shift and put your head in his lap. Even from the under angle, he's still so adorable. You hardly find that fair. No one should be this cute.

"You were really brave, you know. Maybe you could be a superhero too," he teases.

You snort. "Yeah, right. Me and what powers?"

"Your voice," Peter suggests. You look at him curiously. "Don't think I haven't noticed. When you speak you can get people to do what you say."

You nod. "Yeah I don't know where it came from. It's cool though. Saved your ass more than once."

He tangles his fingers in your hair, gently brushing through it. "Thanks for that. What would I do without you?"

"Probably die."

Both of you laugh softly. You reach up and put your hand on his face. It's strangely warm. You sit up and press your forehead against his. Staring into his eyes, you notice that they aren't entirely focused. Something is off.

"Peter, are you alright?" Sweat dampens his skin. You wipe it off with the sleeve of his sweatshirt that you definitely stole. Either he didn't notice or he didn't mind.

He shakes his head. "I don't know. I don't feel so good."

Pallor replaces the flattering pink of his cheeks. Fear overtakes you. Maybe he's just got the flu, or some sort of bad cold. Something makes you believe that's not the case. You check him over and find a prick in his neck. Tiny. Barely noticeable. But it was there.

You lay him down on the couch. He murmurs something incomprehensible to you before his eyes flutter shut. His heart is beating too fast. Oh god what happened to him? Wildly, you glance around the apartment. There doesn't seem to be anyone here. Until -

A flash of white.

No! They were back. And they knew about Peter. Shit, they knew about him! Did they poison him? Panic squeezes your lungs. Breathing becomes difficult, but you won't allow yourself to give in to fear right now. Not waiting around to get caught, you put Peter's arm around your shoulders and lift him up. Feverish and unconscious, he is much heavier than you expected.

Struggling to keep your balance, you half stumble, half walk towards the front door. There's not enough time! Like hell they aren't going to stop you before you can escape. If you leave Peter, maybe...

You shake your head. No. You will never leave him. Especially not like this.

Your eyes snap open. You sit bolt upright on the couch in your own apartment. It's dark. Quiet. Only your heaving breaths can be heard. Sweat plasters your hair to your forehead.

Taking deep breaths, you try to calm down. It was such a vivid dream, but you know it isn't real. Everything had happened, that much is true. But Peter had walked you home after the escapade. There were no men in white. Your friend hadn't been shot with poison. Everything was fine.

So why didn't it feel fine?

You shake yourself off and look at the clock across the room. It's almost time to get up for school anyway. No point in falling back asleep. Slowly, you roll off the couch and touch your feet down on the ground. The linoleum seems too cold. Frozen.

From another room down the hall you hear Tony screaming in his sleep. Something about Peter. Your heart hammers in your chest. Is he having the same nightmares as you? Oh god, are these people coming for him? You race through your apartment to Tony's room. He's shaking and crying and he just looks so terribly vulnerable.

You touch him and he snaps awake. His eyes are wild and terrified. "Tony, are you okay?"

"Oh god, Y/N, where are you? Where's Peter?" Tony runs a hand through his hair. He seems ten times older in this moment.

"What do you mean? I'm right here." Worry forms a lump in your throat. What the hell is going on?

Before he can respond, the apartment fades. You reach out and try to hold on to your uncle, but he disappears too. You close your eyes and when you open them, you're on the ground in your Spanish class. Peter kneels beside you, murmuring into your ear. Slowly, you sit up.

"Y/N, are you okay?" Ned asks. "You just kinda fell out of your chair in the middle of class."

You shrug. "I'm fine."

But you're not. You feel terrible. Nauseated. Your head pounds. The images of Peter and Tony suffering are enough to make you want to burst into tears right there. What's real? What actually happened?

You try to think, and your mind clears. Most of what you first dreamed was true. Sitting at Peter's house. Talking. But then he walked you home, and that was it. Nothing terrible happened. Right?

Shakily you get to your feet. What kind of inception shit is this?

A/N - Yeah I had a totally different idea for this chapter but that is not where it went. Promise it will begin to make more sense later. But this is definitely important. Anyways, hope you guys are enjoying this story! Let me know what you're thinking of this