The prize to pay for the lost souls

12

James walked into Peter's apartment, shaking the snow out of his hair, shivering at the temperature change. He'd spent most of his life in Siberia, but he still couldn't stand the cold, and was over all happy that the amount of white powder wasn't that intimidating in New York.

He stopped in his tracks after locking the door, looking warily around, straining his ears for any sound. Peter should be home. It shouldn't be this quiet. And something inside the soldier froze. Searching his soul for any trace of Peter, and not finding anything, he felt his heart quicken, and he bolted for the kitchen. Frantically looking for a note, or something, anything, to tell him that his partner was okay. The room didn't leave him any clues though, and he stomped into the living room, desperate. His heartbeat racing in his chest, smashing against the ribs serving as a prison.

His mind was going crazy. What had happened? Peter wouldn't just up and leave. He would have said something. A text. Note. Phone call. He knew how James became when he didn't have control. And even though his brain told him it would be pointless, he fished out his phone and dialed the number he knew by muscle memory by now, without even looking at his screen.
His heart skipped when he heard the ringtone coming from the bedroom. But if Peter was asleep, then he would have heard his breathing, right? He knew that sound. And it wasn't there. Holding his breath, he slowly made his way for the closed door, wincing at the creaking noise it made when he swung it open, and then his face dropped.

The room was covered in webbing. The whole ceiling was filled with what looked like a very detailed cave made of the substance. But this one was different from the ones used to catch bad guys. James' nose didn't pick up the familiar chemical smell. This smelled organic. He walked stealthily into the room, staying in the shadows provided by the new addition to his lover's bedroom.

"Peter?" He whispered, listened, but no reply was offered. He frowned, studied the intricate webs for some kind of entry way, as the way it was built, it mas definitely made to house something. Or someone. And from the underside it looked like several small pathways and some bigger hiding spots were placed around in the small place. He found an opening in the corner furthest from the door, and stepped over to it, grabbing a hold of it with his hands, testing it to make sure it wouldn't break with his weight. When it didn't even nudge, he hoisted himself up, and started crawling into the pathway.

It was a labyrinth. But many of the small entryways to other small hallways, were too tiny for James. Clearly not built for a 6'2" monster of a super soldier. But it would fit the scrawny body of a human spider just perfectly. James would have just cut through some of the white thin strings, but he wasn't sure how this whole thing was being held up, and if Peter was in there, he didn't want him tumbling to the floor.

But he was growing more anxious every second. Something told him that Peter was indeed hiding somewhere in there, but he couldn't smell the familiar scent of him, or hear his breathing. And it scared him to death. The aching corner of his chest telling him that something, a part of him was missing, certainly didn't help any.

After what felt like forever, crawling around, panting, frantic and terrified, he spotted a familiar hand, and rushed over to find his lover. And his heart shattered at the sight.

He was pale. More than usual. Lips blue and his hair had lost its shine. He brought a shaking hand over to the small body, lying hurled together in a ball. Completely still. He felt around his neck with two fingers. Terrified, but insistent. And let out a breath he didn't realise he was holding, when he felt the faint pumping underneath his finger tips. But he was cold. Way too cold. And
James made a hasty decision to cut through the webs, bracing himself and grabbing a hold of Peter, to ease the landing. They landed on the soft mattress, and James didn't hesitate to tuck the small body in the blankets, rising and running out to the living room, grabbing all the blankets from the couch and shuffling back into the bedroom, to cover the freezing body.