[DISCONTINUED] Invincible ➳ Peter Parker

5 ~ Talking to Ghosts

THREE WEEKS LATER

There still hasn't been any sign of Peter. Or my "dad", either. My mom had told me a fake name for him when I was younger, so I learned his real name was William Gaffield. Really glad they didn't get married, or I could've been Camella Gaffield. Yuck.

(a/n - on the off chance that that is your actual last name, i'm really sorry. i just searched for a name i didn't like the sound of)

Every day, I was tested to see if any new powers had developed during the night. Some are the same as before; I can still shoot blasts of golden energy from my hands, like Wanda. I can still heal myself and others. I can fly, which was a fun discovery. 

However, there is something strange this time. I feel like whatever is coursing through my body that allows me to do this is changing as Dr. Banner said. It's starting to feel like my powers are a thing that I had naturally, instead of something that happened to me.

For instance, one day I was at Peter's apartment to check in on May, who was understandably distraught. She started crying, like uncontrollable sobbing. I wanted to cheer her up, but I didn't know what to say that wouldn't sound like empty words, so I just put a hand on her shoulder.

Through that touch, I could feel her pain. Literally. I felt her grief as if it was a material thing that was flowing through my fingertips. I couldn't exactly feel her thoughts, but I knew she was thinking of how worried she was for Peter, how she missed him, and how she didn't want him to leave, too, not after what happened to Ben.

Moments after my hand touched her skin, her sobbing died down enough for her to look up at me. She was wearing a confused, slightly awed expression like I had just done something impressive, which I guess I had. I wanted to comfort her so much that when I touched her, it really happened.

After my visit was over, I rushed back to the compound to tell my dad about my discovery. When I told him, he looked at me skeptically, then held his hand out and said to tell him what he's thinking. I touched his hand and to my surprise, I felt a rush of excitement instead of the doubt that I was expecting. The image of a unicorn with a flaming foam finger on its horn flashed through my mind as well. I don't know which surprised me more: the fact that I was right or the fact that that's the first thing he thought of.

That was almost a week ago. Things have been pretty slow lately. I've been training daily with Natasha, Wanda, and Vision to strengthen my abilities, and I'm getting used to having them again. Besides that, I haven't had anything to look forward to. Our leads have all been exhausted. I'm pretty sure some people have started giving up.

I was so scared and angry, but there wasn't anyone I could talk to who hadn't already heard what I had to say. 

There was one more option, though.

I had put it off for so long, but one day I finally decided it was the time to do it.

* * *

The cool night wind tossed my hair around as I walked down the gravel path. Happy drove me here, but I didn't know how long I'd take, so I told him to go back and that I'd call him when I finished. Now I'm kind of wishing he stayed.

I peered ahead into the darkness. The only light that filtered in through the trees was from the church nearby. I held the flowers closer to my chest to prevent them from getting whipped around too much.

I do not like this one bit. You'd better be on high alert, just in case some homicidal creep decides to make a nighttime visit.

Yes, yes, I'll be careful, just...stay quiet until I'm done.

My "consciences" had also returned. They're a lot more helpful than they were before, but I didn't want them interrupting now.

Spotting the right tree, I veered right and approached it. I found the right spot and knelt in front of it, setting the flowers by the smooth grey stone. The flowers were pansies. Her favorites.

"Hey, Mom," I said breathily.

Immediately, a wave of emotion crashed over me. I had to close my eyes and take a deep breath before continuing.

"I'm sorry for not visiting sooner. I like to think you're always watching over me from wherever you are, so you already know what's happened, but maybe saying it out loud will help me."

I took another breath. "Peter was kidnapped a few weeks ago. By your ex-fiance. There's been no sign of him at all. Dad and the rest of the team are doing all they can, but it's slow work."

I paused, my eyes burning with tears as I thought about every moment since his disappearance.

"I'm scared," I finally whispered. "What if they do something to him? What if the last thing I told him was that I didn't want to deal with him? I don't want—I can't—"

My words caught in my throat as a lump formed there. The wind chilled my face and the tears streaming down it. It hurt to think of a world that I was in, but Peter wasn't. I knew I couldn't give up, but there was still that part of me that said maybe it was just a waste of time.

My crying calmed as I came to a realization. "I remember you telling me one time, after Richard had passed, that you knew he was the one you were meant to be with. He knew what you had gone through and he loved and accepted you anyway.

"That's how I feel about Peter. I remember when we were younger, when his parents died. I didn't know what to say to him, so I just stayed by his side. He did the same for me when Amara died, and then Richard."

I paused, brushing my fingers over the cold headstone. "When we returned here, and you..." I trailed off, my voice breaking.

"He was still there for me, even after we hadn't heard from each other in so long. It was like no matter what happened, nothing could ever break us apart. When I lost my memory, he never gave up. He always came back to see me."

I lowered my head, and tears dripped onto the grass below me. "I would do anything to take his place right now. I love him so so much. I just want him back."

I silently sat by my mother's grave for a little while longer. Normally I found graveyards creepy at night, but it was somehow peaceful here. I probably could've sat there until morning, praying to my mother and all things holy that by some miracle, Peter would be safe and sound tomorrow.

I called Happy and told him to pick me up. When I returned to the compound, I went to bed right away. Sleep was my only escape because I knew that those nightmares weren't real, unlike the one I was currently living. 

My dream consisted of the usual: endless searching, Peter's voice, and waking up crying. Not a great way to start your day. 

The day passed uneventfully. My mind went on auto-pilot as I checked on anything that might have produced a lead, but still nothing. As the days were going by, my optimism was weakening further and further. So was my patience. I always ended up yelling at someone when they tried to talk to me. Our search was going nowhere.

Early that evening, I was making brownies for my daily bake-and-binge. Baking was one of the only things that could preoccupy my thoughts. I had just slid the pan into the oven when I heard someone call me.

I closed the oven and stood up straight, wiping my hands on my shorts. Natasha appeared in the doorway, a grave look on her face.

"You need to see this."

—————

so as it turns out, i'm probably lactose intolerant. woohoo.

{edited 13/12/20}