The Pretenders (ON HOLD)

chapter 18

Peter ran home once he was out of sight. His body was aching, his mind was racing and his heart...he pushed away those feelings. Teenagers and children often do. As soon as feelings like jealousy, hatred, grief and love start to surface, they can't help but grow up. And subconsciously, everybody is trying to stay young and careless forever. But all children grow up. Nothing can be done about it.

As Peter ran, he could feel his muscles tiring quickly. It was unusual; he had only been running for a couple of minutes. His body typically tired after twenty minutes, but today he felt strangely...human. It was as if his powers had almost disappeared.

He slowed down to a walk, his heart crashing in his chest. The only thought in his mind was of Wendy. He wanted to run back and stay with her. He wanted to make sure nothing would hurt her because of him. He wanted to be in her warm embrace again and keep her safe. It filled him with taunting guilt every time he pictured Simon's battered body, because he knew it was his fault. The thing was, he didn't save Simon. He was too late and it pained him to think that the same thing could happen again but Wendy would be the victim.

He finally reached home. Opening the door he saw his dad standing impatiently at the doorway.

"Where have you been?" he asked angrily, "I've been calling your phone for the past half hour. You said you were going to pop by the hospital and then you disappeared for three hours."

Peter looked down at the ground. If only his dad knew what he had been through that day. He remembered a time when his dad used to laugh and joke with him. He used to be more fun than his mother. But the year his powers came, something in his father changed. He remembered one day asking his mother if his father was upset because he wanted a normal son. That made his mother cry.

He missed her. Three weeks seemed like such a long time to wait but he was getting through it well, especially with Wendy to keep him company.

"I was out," Peter replied.

"You don't say," his dad, Jonathan, muttered.

Peter quickly ran upstairs to his bedroom. He lay down in bed, not able to stand anymore, due to the weakness in his legs. It was becoming really bad. Peter worried something was wrong with him.

He closed his eyes, falling asleep almost instantly.

* * * * *

Wendy was struggling for breaths. Her scarred, bloody face still looked beautiful but it was stained with a look of complete horror and pain. Peter lunged forward to try and get to her but a pair of large dirty hand knocked him back to the floor, winding him.

Two men pinned him to the ground. He watched, mortified, as the leader of the gang pulled a gun from his jacket. Turning to face Peter, his identity was revealed. Peter yelled out in fear as he was met with the coldest, palest eyes he had ever seen. Just by looking at them, a part of him was already dead.

"Say goodbye to your little girlfriend," them man purred. He turned backed to face Wendy, grinning wickedly as he raised the gun to her forehead. She turned to give Peter one last desperate look. Then the man pulled the trigger.

She was gone.

* * * * *

"Wendy!"

Peter sat up in bed. His head was pounding and he was dripping with a cold sweat. Breaths came quickly and unevenly and his heart felt like it might jump out of his chest, it was beating so hard.

"What happened?" his father asked rushing into the room. A rare look of worry and concern crossed his face.

Peter opened his mouth to say it was just a nightmare but no words would come out. He was desperately trying to breathe but his body was just freaking out and going crazy. He needed to see Wendy now. He couldn't let that happen to her. She would not get hurt as long as he was alive.