WHEN THE DARKNESS COMES ━ Peter Parker

o4. I Trust You

FOUR I TRUST YOU

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      If Lyra was being honest, she didn't feel very different. She had been too young to see what happened to her mother once she bore the curse, but feeling so regular felt wrong. She expected to at least feel a little different, but the only thing different was that her father could no longer look her in the eyes. Oh, and the teenage boy that hung out on her fire escape almost every night since her birthday in an attempt to break this totally ancient curse that seemed fairly unbreakable, but ya know. Semantics.

"So, if anyone was going to know anything about this curse that's like still alive today, who would it be?" Peter asked as he twiddled his thumbs, laying on the fire escape as he looked up at the stars. Lyra was beside him as she sat on the windowsill, her eyes glued to the same sky. It was almost midnight and there was probably crime happening that Peter could be stopping, but instead, he was here. Lyra didn't know why he was so content to waste his time on something like this for her, but she appreciated it nonetheless.

The girl shrugged, "My grandmother, maybe. She didn't survive it, she was just lucky enough not to inherit it. We hoped it would skip a generation since my mom got it but no such luck, as you saw. I'm sure she'll know something."

"Cool, down to skip school tomorrow so we can go visit her?" Peter suggested. It was odd to see him in the Spider-Man suit with the mask off. It felt like two worlds colliding -- a shy teenage boy and a hero.

Lyra shook her head, "No, she would have my head for ditching. We can take the subway to hers after, though, if you really want to."

"I do want to," the boy nodded, his eyes drifting to meet hers for just a moment before they both returned their gaze to the sky, "I really really want this to work out. Breaking the curse, I mean, uh, yeah. It's just so..."

"Unfair?" the girl finished, having a feeling that was what the boy was going to say, "Tell me about it. I'm the one that actually has to die."

"No, no, you're not gonna die, stop talking like that," Peter sat up, moving to lean up against the railing so quickly his hair fell into his face. Lyra laughed, reaching out to push it back into place. As soon as she realized what she had done, she drew her hand back quickly as though it burned. Thankfully, Peter didn't say anything except she did notice a faint pink fill his cheeks.

She sighed, "It's the truth. My mom died. My great-grandmother died. Everyone died except for the ones that didn't get it. I don't even know why this is happening to us. I guess I'm lucky I got it so young, I won't have a chance to carry on the bloodline. It's for the best, really."