× Uneasy lies the head that wears the crown × [ON HOLD]

~Chapter 3~

(3rd Person POV)

2 months later………

Peter jolted awake and on instincts his eyes darted across the rook scanning his surroundings . His vision was jumping for a while up until his blurry world deliberately melted down to his own tiny room. Realizing this, his radged breathing started to even out, even though his heart still pounded painfully at his chest. His rose-tinted cheeks were wet and stained with tears, the cool air making them freeze against his skin. He gripped his bed in order to stop his hands from shaking. He took in a strained deep breath to try to calm himself further even if his lungs protested.

He looked over to the clock by his bedside. "5:39" he muttered quietly to himself in a raspy voice.

Wincing slightly, he closed eyes immediately as the cadent blue light coming from his digital clock stung   his sensitive eyes making them throb in pain.

He was just tired, so tired of everything. He had thought that his nightmares where reducing and getting better, but this was one of the worst ones by far.
The nightmares emerged after the events of homecoming and only got worse after the blip, he absolutely hated it. He hated the feeling of helplessness, the feeling that he couldn't escape his own head. No matter where he went and what he did, the back of his eyes where forever consumed by darkness. Tainted only with pain and regret.

Peaceful sleep was a rare occurrence for Peter, but nobody needed to know that. Who cares anyway he thought.

To say he was exhausted was an understatement, he felt as drained as a worn-out battery. He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and with one swift motion he peeled the covers over his sickly body and wobbled towards his bathroom in attempt to freshen up a bit.

He turned the tap and threw icy-cold water violently at his face. Some of the water dripped on his clothes creating wet specks on the fabric but he didn’t really have the energy to care and dry it off.

Looking over to the mirror he cringed seeing his reflection leaning on the off-white sink sluggishly. His skin was pale and slightly tight around his bones. His eyes were sunken in and hollow from sleep deprivation, his lips dry and pale seemingly losing their colour and the white of his eyes bloodshot red from previous crying.

He didn’t look like himself at all, a mere shell of a 15-year-old boy that once wore a toothy smile proudly. The shimmer in his eyes seemingly growing dimmer every day.

A frustrated sigh escaped his dry lips as he headed back towards his room. Sighing, he did that a lot lately.

In the corner of his eye he spotted a blur of red and blue. He stared at his suit lying carelessly on the ground, with urge and regret. He had given up his duties, the guilt of not doing more and being better was eating him alive. He hung up the suit because he didn’t feel worthy of it, he didn’t deserve it, he had failed everyone.

Sometimes the pressure he felt on his chest was too suffocating. He had a responsibility and he just selfishly threw it away like the coward he was. The city counted on him but he ran away, ran away from the responsibility that he was destined to carry. Every night after the snap had feel guilt pump through his veins and he had become a slave to the constant thoughts that bloomed in his mind. 

“With great power comes great responsibility”

He remembered the day uncle Ben had said those words to him as clear as day. They stuck with him since. Those words had been echoing in his mind for the past few months, begging and pleading him to go back to being there for the little guy.

After being in deep thought for a while, he made up his mind. He didn’t want to neglect his duty anymore; it was time for a change.
Without a second thought he decided to go outside and swing for a while because it always used to make him feel better and it calmed down his nerves.

He grabbed his suit albeit shakily and slipped it on his cold frame. Once the mask goes on, the weak and pathetic Peter Parker is hidden by the thin fabric that represents his cheerful and exuberant alter ego.

Tapping twice gently on the spider emblem, the red and blue suit tightened around his slim form making him look smaller than he really was. Even though he has visible muscles and a built physique, he was still small and rather thin for his age. Especially after barley eating after 2 months. 

The suit felt good to be in for once, he felt a wave of courage and power surge upon him, a feeling he'd forgot what it felt like. He was cooped up in his bed for so long neck deep in depression, that he forgot the pride he felt while wearing the red and blue fabric. It felt empowering to say the least.

Sliding his window open ever so slowly, he jumped out and swung away into the sleeping streets of New York Queens. It felt relieving to be back, the brisk breeze and quite air was calming as he swung through the maze-like city, he felt free. A small giggle escaped his lips as he front-flipped into the air, while the cool wind whistled into his ears.

Just for a moment he could escape his head and let himself melt with the wind . He felt as if this huge weight that was pressing on his back was magically lifted off of him, and it felt so freeing, he wanted to absorb and re-live this moment forever.

After a while he settled on a nearby rooftop to watch the sunrise, it was one of his favourite things to do before everything happened. It always used to lift his spirits up.

While swinging his legs he watched intently as the orange ball of fire slowly crawled up from the horizon, painting the sky a variety of pinks, oranges and purples. The sun’s rays spread out across the tall buildings of New York creating a million sparkles, making the sky-scrapers look sort of like a Christmas tree.

In that moment he couldn’t tell where heaven stopped and the earth began. The corners of his mouth curved upwards to form a sincere smile, a real smile.

As the sun rose his hope for a better future did too. It felt reliving to know this, he'd felt so helpless since the funeral.

At that moment in time, all his previous troubles had been forgotten even though they still lingered somewhere, closed and encased ima cabnet deep in the mess that was his mind. He chose to ignore them and enjoy the breath-taking view while it lasted.

A small sliver of hope of hope suddenly shone brightly in his eyes, cutting through the darkness that enveloped him.

“Maybe everything will turn out ok” he muttered hopefully under his breath while swinging his way back to his appartement. Selfishly not feeling up for patrol just yet, regardless of his previous plan of returning.

He was oblivious of the slight tingle crawling up his neck, and the eyes that wandered after his swinging form...

A/N wow this chapter kinda sucked... But anyway I hope everyone is doing ok :D