Work Text:
Your fingers danced along the edges of his jaw. This reminded you of when you had danced on a roof in Queens together. His eyes held shut, evoking the thought of when he would patrol too late and sleep in. His lips sat gently against each other, and you wanted nothing more for him to sit up to kiss you.
However, as you turned your head to the door to watch Peter's aunt walk in, you used all your strength to keep an optimistic appearance.
"Hey, May. He's still not awake." As you spoke, the realization of how hard it was the think set it.
"That's alright. I just want to see Peter at peace. His mind is always running, never seeming to stop. It's identical to his mom's brain."
A horrifying thought seemed to rip through you. Were you ready to deal with the idea of Peter seeing his parents again? It wasn't your decision, you knew that, but you did know Peter was still young and full of life.
Instead, you repressed it and brought front another memory. "Peter, remember when you got too embarrassed to bring me flowers, so May did it instead?" There was a shallow laugh that came from his aunt. It made the silence in the room feel thicker than before.
"I remember the time he had come up to me, bright red. He told me about how he had walked into your room and found his missing hoodie." She leaned over Peter beside you, taking one of his hands. "I gave her that sweater. When you didn't notice, I brought it up."
His aunt turned to look at you, taking in your disheveled appearance. Your bright eyes had dulled, your outspoken personality quieted, and your confidence shattered. "Sweetheart, why don't you collect yourself? You don't have to be strong for anyone but him and yourself."
You shook your head, politely denying her. Although you knew it would be a good idea, the thought of leaving Peter's side at such a vulnerable time terrified you. "I'll be okay. I need to be here when he wakes up."
When enough words were spoken, you and May retreated to your own minds. Taking one look at his vitals, you could tell they were slightly improving. This gave you hope that by tomorrow you wouldn't end up feeling bereaved. Still, it was hard to face the current emotions in your body. At the front of all the sensations was fear. What the terror came from the most, you couldn't identify. You only knew it was persistent.
A tear hit the pillow by Peter's head as a shaky breath left your lungs. Both of your hands involuntarily found themselves holding onto Peter's cheeks. "God, don't you scare me like this ever again. Trust me, Parker, I'm going to give you a real talking to when you wake up.
"Remember when you hid in the closet to scare me, but I was under the bed waiting to scare you?" You sniffled, brushing a stray curl from his hair. "We need to do that again, maybe tell Tony about it. He would really think we were idiots."
May's hand climbed through the hair and rested on top of your shoulder. No words were spoken, only a silent bond being built between you. There was also a pleading in her eyes, asking you to take a break.
You managed to find movement within yourself to get to the door and step outside, taking a deep breath. Peter's words, from more than a year ago after a panic attack, echoed in your mind, telling you to ground yourself. You spent several minutes doing just that and finally moved to open the door when an outcry came within, echoing from May. Your ears pilled the sound, that awful and dreaded sound, out of the rest. It was the sound of Peter's heart flatlining.
You knew he was gone.