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deadsetobsessions · 8 months

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Spider in Gotham AU- Pt.2

[Pt.1]

Peter’s no stranger to memories that comes as nightmares. There’s something different to them, the taste of terror that’s tinged with a feeling of “that’s happened.”

Flashes of Aunt May, dying as he stood next to her while choosing the city over her? Old hat. Inky darkness surrounding MJ falling as Peter reached for her, over and over again? Been there, seen that, didn’t even get a sick scar out of it. Racing against the clock to defeat some bad guy or an unknown threat? That’s his Thursday.

But this?

This isn’t his. It’s real, Peter could tell that much. Sure, it’s wrapped up in silk hisses and heart crushing terror, but Peter could always tell whether a nightmare was a nightmare or whether it was a memory.

This was a memory. Not his. His. It’s complicated.

“Your father, papito, he-,”

Then, it’d be the ruffle of his hair, brown eyes. It reminded him of his mom. But the crease of these eyes were different. Hardened, mean. Even towards him.

“Well, he said no, but I knew what he really wanted.”

The base of Peter’s neck always crawled when he remembered that line. His spider-sense warned him that whatever he’s remembering, he would not like.

“Ey, Peter.”

“Huh?” Peter blinked, looking up from where his arms were elbow deep in wires.

“Don’cha need gloves with that?” Frank asked, munching on some jerky. They were sitting in the living room, repairing a TV and a washer Frank had somehow managed to lug back to the apartment. It’s a toss up between Frank’s network of orphans (Peter included), street rats (these things are not mutually inclusive), or his own slightly higher than average strength. Not that they needed to thrift broken things, considering Peter’s funneling money from offshore bank accounts belonging to this America’s 1%. They just made it so easy! He and Ned had been hacking into government bases in middle school back on his world. This world? Not even a challenge. Regardless, this was kind of like… Frank’s version of those fancy sensory boxes for Peter.

“Oh, no. It’s not plugged in, see?”

“How’re ya gunna know it works then?”

“Plug it in after I’m done. Turn it off and on, you know?”

Frank stared at him, then rolled his eyes towards the ceiling.

“If you burn down that portion of the house, at least we’ll be warm for a bit.”

“Thanks. Your confidence in me is astounding.”

“You talk like an old man.”

“I do not! Excuse you! If I’m old, you’re the expired knock off cup ramen in the back of a convenience store!”

“Yo, shrimpy, that’s rude, ya hear?” Frank snickered, impressed at the quip. The Alley kid turned brother stood up to plop next to Peter.

“So… you gonna go…?” Frank made a whooshing sound and held his hand in a web shooter position.

“Tonight? Prolly. Anything I should look out for?”

“You’re gunna get yourself killed, but yeah, heard the gang’s back up north.”

Peter flashed a smile, dimples coming out. “I’ll try not to. Thanks, Frank.”

“Anytime, Spidey.”

Frank, though little (to Peter), was a good friend. Then again, considering Peter saved his ass both in mask and out of it, it’s to be expected. One would think that after eight years of hiding his identity, Peter would be better at it. Then, he got punted into a different world and got made by a child.

To be fair, the circumstances all but screamed Parker Luck, so Peter’s not counting this instance.

See, the first few days of this sudden cohabitation, Peter had asked Frank to find them furniture. Both because he was getting real sick of eating on the floor and because Peter needed to fix his suit to match his much younger body. Then, once he readjusted the shrinking nanotech and the spider legs to fit him in a way that wouldn’t break him, Peter had promptly swung out of the building and went patrolling. He stuck with the wandering Frank, taking out muggers and robbers and everything in between and past that around the area where Frank is.

Looking back, Peter realized how lucky he was when he decided to go on the “helping joyride” at the beginning of the evening. His spider-sense activated way later in the night, the moment where he began seeing and sensing the cameras that kept pointing towards him. He ducked and dodged out of the way, and eventually, the feeling left. Somebody was watching. And he doesn’t know where they stood on the moral side of things.

Anyways, it happened after three weeks and a half of going out and just… settling into life in Gotham. He had already been struggling to find a way home, scouring the libraries around Gotham on any subject that would aid in his multiversal travel. Peter would like to know which emo kid named this city.

Eventually, Parker Luck decided to strike once more.

“Get back, freak!” The lady brandished a wicked knife.

Talk about deja vu.

“Oh no! Knives! My greatest weakness!” Spider-Man yelled, sticking to the shadowed windows as he let his voice echo in the alley. Gotham had a lot of nice hiding places. Spider-man dropped down on her head like a bat out of hell and webbed the knife out of her hands. He webbed the mugger up onto the alleyway above normal reach, and told the man to call the police.

Frank screamed, just as Spider-man wrapped it up, loud enough to reach his enhanced hearing.

“Wait-!” The man tried to stop him, but Peter, small, trained, and having readjusted his reach, slipped away.

“What’s your name?!” The guy he saved yelled at his back.

Spider-man, distracted, yelled back, “SPIDEY!”

He shot webs upwards and used them to slingshot his way towards where Frank was. And… car! Peter used his webs to swing up, up, and let himself fall to gain momentum. At the last moment, Peter shot a web to the top of the car and pulled himself to it.

Shit, shit, shit. He’s stupidly attached to the kid, and he was stupid enough to let Frank go out into Gotham looking both well-fed and well clothed.

The world slowed as he locked eyes with a terrified Frank, who was getting dragged into a car.

The world narrowed to speed and Spider-Man landed on top of the car roof, sweeping his leg out and thankfully remembering his much shorter reach. His foot collided with the kidnapper’s face with the equivalent force of a grown up, slightly annoyed Peter Parker who’s letting his strength go a bit unchecked. Basically, they went flying, blood spewing out of the undoubtedly broken nose Spider-Man had just given them.

Standing on business, the shorter webster promptly flipped down wards as he all but glued the would-be kidnapper to the curb.

“You alright?”

“You’re- You’re that new mask.” Frank whispered, scuttling away from the car where he’d been dropped.

“Yeah, man. You okay?” His voice modulator came in clutch.

“Fuck. Fuck, I gotta-” Frank stumbled. The kid looked like he was one bad break away from snapping. Peter hated it when kids got that terrified look on their faces, it reminded him of himself, helpless as Ben bled out because they should never have to fear something that much.

Something’s wrong, though. As much as Peter wished otherwise, Frank was a Gotham bred and true alley kid, through and through. These kids don’t spook easily. Peter already stopped a couple of kidnappings and at least two of the kids had yelled at him to stay out of the way before unloading a rain of nut kicks on their kidnappers that left Peter wincing for days in sympathy. Frank being this spooked? Something’s going on.

“Woah, easy there, I’m not gonna hurt you,”

Frank shot him a half hysterical, half condescending look. Yeah, that’s more like it.

“Ob-obviously. I have to go before more of them comes,” Frank muttered.

“More of them? You know what they want?”

Frank stared at him, looking up and down at his blue, red, and gold ensemble.

“I can help,” Peter promised.

“What’re your thoughts on metas?”

Suspicious.

“Uh, they’re fine? Depends on the person, why?”

Frank sighed. The skinny teenager, barely 14, tugged at his hair. “They’re traffickers. Meta kids, mostly, so the Bats don’t do nothing. I- uh, I got caught.” He held up a thin wrist, showing Peter his new accessorie, a think metal bracelet that was beeping red.

Peter cursed in his head. Fuck, of course he’d stumble into a-

“Caught? You’re a meta?”

Frank nodded. “Strength. This is an inhibitor, illegal kind, you know?”

Well, that explained how he got all of those furniture without struggle.

“Right. Hey, don’t stress, kid, I’m a meta too.”

Frank blinked.

“What?”

Peter walked up the side of the car and did jazz hands.

“You’re a meta?! But- but you’re a mask operating in Gotham!”

“Yeah…? Is that weird?”

Before Frank could reply, Peter’s sense screamed and Spider-Man shoved Frank away from the spray of bullets.

“Move, Frank!”

Peter flipped away, vaguely aware of Frank’s gaping realization. He took down the shooters in quick succession, stopping the speeding car with his bare hands and some webs.

“Shooters, no shooting!” He yelled, liberally applying force he tended to keep under wraps. Frank was like a brother to him, and there is no universe where Peter Parker would hold back when his family was in danger.

When he got back to Frank, who had oddly stayed instead of running, Peter found out why the kid stayed.

“Peter?!” Frank hissed lowly, looking more pissed off than terrified. “Are you fucking insane?! Why are you running ‘round as a mask?!”

“Shhh!” Shit, he got made. “Come on, get back to the apartment and we can talk there. I’ll get rid of this-”

Peter casually snapped the bracelet in half, tearing the tracker out, and tucked it away to study later.

“Fuckin’- shit, fine, but you’re explaining everything, motherfucker!”

They split, Peter guessing correctly that he was in another lecture of a lifetime.

——

“Your vigilante name is Spiderman?”

“Hey, I can hear you say it without the hyphen! There’s a hyphen in there!”

“You’re not a man! You’re a twerp!”

“I’ll show you twerp, you-”

Five minutes of tussling later, in which Peter did not try to bite Frank’s arm off, thank you very much, Frank leaned back on the couch.

“Besides. People in the streets are calling you Spidey, anyways.”

“Spidey?”

“Some dude you saved from a mugging said you told him.”

Peter slammed his head on the floor where he was laying face down.

“Ughhhh.”

——

“He could have been great. I saw his potential.”

Anger. But he shouldn’t be afraid. The woman loved him.

“Hey, Peter. You’re up here again.”

“Hi.” Peter stayed curled up. His mind had refused him sleep for the last three nights, causing dark circles to appear underneath his eyes. The memories of what he assumed to be this world’s Peter was merging with his. What he’d seen so far did not fill him with confidence of a happy childhood. Flashes of wielding weapons, the sterile smell of a metal dissection table, and hundreds and hundreds of spiders crawling over him, getting startled into biting down. Plus, the stress of tracking down the meta trafficking circles in Gotham was no joke. He doesn’t know Gotham nearly as well as he knew New York, and he had to be extra careful running around and trying to catch every bit of the circle before making any moves. Frank was helping with his network of homeless Meta kids, but the traffickers were everywhere except for Crime Alley.

He should be dead. They sold his body to an organ harvester who dumped his venom filled corpse on the side of Gotham. At least he didn’t have to worry about killing his alternate version.

“Everything all right?” Red Robin clambered down to sit next to him, cowl hiding the concerned scrunch of his brow. He’s never seen Peter like this.

Peter grumbled, staring down at another alleyway. He knows his alternate died. His shit excuse for another sold his body to an organ harvester, when he seized on the operating table, who dumped his venom filled corpse on the side of Gotham. At least he didn’t have to worry about killing his alternate version. He does, however, have to worry about missing vital organs.

“I… remembered something.” Peter remembered a lot of things. And pretty much none of them were good. This Peter suffered a lot in his short life.

Red Robin nodded. The issue of Peter’s spotty memories had come up in their discussions over the past month.

“Ah. Something unpleasant?”

Peter thought back to the voice who, despite all of the other, highly traumatic memories, haunted his brain like nothing else.

“He didn’t live up to it. He refused to kill. So I made the decision for him.”

“Yeah. Not for me, but unpleasant that I know about it.”

“Yeah, I get that. You wanna talk about it?” Peter hid a small smile. Even though Red Robin kept his tone light, the concern still bled through. Warm. It made Peter feel warm. Even if it appeared that the Bats don’t really care about the trafficked meta kids… maybe Red Robin would come save normal kid Peter if he got kidnapped. A backup plan to consider. For now…

“Sure,” he said. Red Robin waited patiently.

“I think, I remember someone. Maybe, maybe my…” Peter grimaced. “My mom? She… told me something. And uh, I think I’maproductofrape.”

“Oh,” Red Robin said, so awkwardly that Peter had to crack a small smile despite the gravity of the topic. “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah. Me too. Not myself, but for…” Peter waved a hand. “You know.”

“Yeah.”

“She wasn’t a good person,” Peter whispered and hated how he missed the browns of her eyes- her middle name was Marie, and god, Peter wished he hadn’t known that because he gets why her eyes reminded him so much of his own mother- and she besmirched everything Mary Parker stood for.

“You have our combined potential, Peter. Make sure not to be like him too much and live up to it, papito.”

“It’s okay, to love her even if she hurt other people,” Red Robin said, gently ruffling his greasy hair. Peter’s spidey-sense tingled and he ducked away. Red Robin withdrew his hand. “Because you can’t really help that. Trust me, I’ve tried. You just have to make sure they don’t get the chance to do what they did again.”

Cold, cold voices and his voice gave out from screaming. “You really are your father’s son. Never being able to do what’s necessary.”

And Peter wondered what happened to Red Robin and who hurt him. Peter would just like to talk. Red Robin reminded him of himself, way back when being Spider-Man meant finding out Harry became Green Goblin. Pained. Tired.

“Yeah,” Peter agreed. But that’s not really a problem, considering the last thing the organ harvester said before dumping him in an alley. “She’s dead in a ditch in Siberia or something. I’m not really worried she’ll do it again.”

“Uh.”

“It’s cool,”

“Right. Have you… remembered your dad?”

“Yeah. He’s in Gotham,” Peter unfurled a little.

“You want help tracking him down? I’m good at that kind of thing.”

Peter glanced at Red Robin. “I think you just admitted to being a stalker.”

“Vigilante,” Red Robin shrugged, like it explained everything. And yeah, it kind of did. Peter snorted.

“Nah, it’s okay. I don’t want to meet him anyways.”

“Why not?”

“He doesn’t know about me,” Peter ticked off his fingers. “I’m a literal walking, talking, breathing reminder of his trauma. And I don’t need a dad.”

Red Robin looked at him silently. Peter doesn’t think about it.

He never wanted to see his parents suffer. An alternate version of his dad, hurt so irrevocably by an alternate version of his mom?

Peter hated that this Catalina dirtied his mother’s name, and went against the most fundamental parts of what the spider symbol was meant for. And considering he’s been doing this longer than her, he had first dibs on defining it. He’ll look after his dad, as long as he’s stuck in Gotham. It’s only right.

“His name? Oh, my son, it’s Richard Grayson.”

——

Peter, who Trusts his instincts: no head rubs?? awwwww

Tim, who’s been trying to get a dna sample for the last month: how does he keep evading me?? He must be a genius or a spy or- *spirals down the conspiracy board*

——

Tim: I’ve connected the dots!

Peter: you’ve connected jack shit

——

Listen, the moment I learned Catalina Flores’ middle name, the pieces clicked, okay? Like legos. It’s like, former FBI agent in this one and former CIA agent in Peter’s home universe? Wow. Middle name Marie? Mary Parker? Incredible. Spider themes run in the blood apparently?? They both have brown eyes!! Trying to do good with no qualms about murder!! (I’m assuming since Mary Parker was SHIELD and I don’t think SHIELD cared much for the sanctity of human life if it threatened the country or something)

#tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon #Peter Parker #I think you know who his mom is #nightwing #batman #red robin #Frank the Crime Alley kid #Tim Drake #Tw: mentions of torture #Tw: human experimentation #bruce wayne #dick Grayson #gotham #Tw: mentions of human trafficking #Catalina Marie Flores #tarantula #Spider in Gotham AU

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tldrthor · 1 month

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Promises, oceans deep - peter parker x reader

peter parker x f!reader // you said you were gonna grow up, then you were gonna come find me // based on the song 'Peter' by Taylor Swift

Summary: the misfortune of being left behind in the blip, and the consequences of aging without him.

Part two <3

tw: mention of bad eating habits/food disorder; insomnia; angst

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The night was cold, dark. The halls of the compound were as empty as they had been since the blip. That's the thing about this place - in it's hayday, it was a wonderful place to live. Laughter and camaraderie filled every corner, every crevice. There was always music, dancing, movies, games, whatever. That was before. Now, the halls were a stark reminder of everything that is lost. Every step echoed in this hollow home.

Forgive me, Peter My lost fearless leader In closets like cedar, Preserved from when we were just kids. Is it something I did?

The glow of the fridge was the only light in the kitchen as you searched for anything to eat. It hadn't even occurred to you to look earlier, when you could do something about the empty shelves. You sighed, taking the milk and setting it on the counter, prepared for another night of cereal for dinner.

"You need to eat better, (y/n)." You jumped at the voice behind you. How, when your steps were so cacophonous, were his so silent? You turned to face him, turning to pick up the blanket that had slipped off your shoulders as you jumped.

Steve. As he turned the light on, he looked tired. The bags beneath his eyes aging him by at least a couple of years at least. You had always considered him to be almost immortal, un-aging. But these past few years, you saw him looking older, much more tired. You weren't really sure if it was a result of the pain of the times, or if he really was biologically aging. The thought of either was too painful to dwell on.

"Yeah? And you need to sleep better, Cap."

He chuckled and shrugged with a small, sad smile on his face. You both knew the other was right, and also knew that neither of your words would make a difference. After two years of your comrades being missing, dead or blipped, the Avengers had stalled. So, each of you, the remainders that is, seemed to have set about to destroy yourselves in a myriad of different ways.

He walked around the counter, taking the milk out of your hands. He opened the top and gave it a whiff, visibly recoiling. "That's so out of date." He poured it down the sink before bumbling around the kitchen, bringing out a pan, some eggs and various herbs and spices. "Sit down, let me make you something substantial."

You followed his orders, knowing that if you told him that you weren't hungry, felt sick, he wouldn't believe you. You knew he had too much on his plate with all the council meetings you had long gave up on. Just tonight, you would give him the win. God knows he needed it.

There was a comfortable silence between the two of you as he crafted up a meal with anything usable he could find in the kitchen, "God, we have to get better at doing food shops." He muttered, mostly to himself.

He broke the silence as he handed you a plate of food, having made on for himself as well. He sat next to you at the kitchen island as you both ate. "So, how's school?"

You almost laughed at the mundane question. You tried to remember the last time you were asked such a question. You missed this, you supposed. The small talk, back when life was normal. Back before Thanos.

"School is... okay." You didn't want to tell him that actually, school was a constant reminder that your boyfriend and two best friends were missing, presumed dead. "It's boring, pointless."

"You graduate this year, right?" He asked.

The question made your bones go cold. You hadn't even thought about it, but yeah. You would be graduating this year. Without them. You swallowed harshly. "Yeah."

He could see the emotions written all over your face and gave your shoulder a squeeze, reassuringly.

You went back to silence.

The goddess of timing, once found us beguiling. She said she was trying, Peter, was she lying? My ribs get the feeling she did.

The day was a blur. You walked up to the stage to receive your diploma, looking out into the crowd. They were sitting in the guests of honour box, being the avengers and all. Natasha and Steve smiled at you and waved, Bruce and Tony cheered while Thor gave you a hearty thumbs up. Rocket sat on his shoulder, looking bored. You wandered across the stage in a fugue state, accepting the scroll and the valedictorian award. The school hadn't asked you to do the speech, which you were grateful for. They knew you never really talked anymore.

As you returned to your seat, the principal called out "And now, we want to take a moment to remember those that we lost..."

When his photo flashed across the screen, you were sure you were going to be sick.

And I didn't wanna come down I thought it was just goodbye for now.

"Good job, kid." Natasha opened her arms and enveloped you in a hug. You returned it, almost desperately. You didn't feel like it was a good job. It was an empty achievement without them.

You both turned to walk back to the parking lot, with Steve putting his arm around you. "What do you want to do to celebrate, bud? You wanna go out to dinner?"

While your heart screamed absolutely not, your head said that they needed the win. "Sure, yeah."

You said you were gonna grow up, then you were gonna come find me.

When you moved to college, it was almost a breath of fresh air. You felt bad, leaving Steve, Natasha and Bruce since Tony had left to live with Pepper and Morgan, and Thor had gone to settle the Asgardians into New Asgard. But the silence in the halls of the compound was chest-crushing, and only grew worse by the day.

You heaved your things up the stairs into your dorm. A single one, thank god. Being one of the surviving members of the Avengers really did have its perks sometimes. You struggled to carry things that you probably wouldn't have before, and recently you had noticed that you were so tired. You tried to hide your shaky legs and the sweat on your forehead from Steve and Natasha. But they noticed, and exchanged worried glances behind your back.

Steve obviously insisted on helping everyone else in the parking lot, ever the good samaritan. You and Natasha arranged your room together, putting up posters and decorations and trying to make the space feel homely.

You picked up a picture frame and turned it around. Him.

You said you were gonna grow up, then you were gonna come find me. Words from the mouths of babes, promises, oceans deep. But never to keep.

The assignment you were working on was rough, like, really rough. You had been conducting some research and there was just something alluding you. You ended up scrolling through instagram instead, when Steve's contact flashed across the screen. You looked at the time - 2am. Way past Cap's bedtime.

"Hello?"

"(y/n)? Were you asleep?" He asked, worry immediately flooding his voice.

You rolled your eyes. "Yes."

"God, don't... don't lie to me, kid." He sighed. "Either way, you've got to come back to the compound, it's... Scott Lang. You remember the giant guy from Berlin? He's back, we're not really sure how. It might... It might be something."

You breathed out. "What?" You squeezed your eyes closed and breathed for a few seconds. "I'll be there, I've... fuck, I've got an assignment due tomorrow."

You could hear Steve smile at the absurd normalcy of what you had said. "Hey, let's mind our language. I'll get someone to send a letter to your professor to excuse you, I'm sending a quinjet to you now. Be ready."

"Sure thing, old man. See you soon."

"See ya, kid."

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From there, things moved quickly. Too quickly. Your life descended into utter chaos from writing papers in college to time travel, other worlds, alien species and infinity stones. Natasha's death.

And then there was the snap. The second one. Bruce screamed in pains as rainbow colours flashed up his arm, a thousand little lightning strikes. Steve stood in front of you, protectively. If this explodes, we're all dead. You thought, rather pessimistically.

As Bruce finally gathered the strength to snap, you were almost shocked to see he survived. Everyone ran forward to check him, Tony cooling the nasty looking burns on his arm, neck and face.

"Clint, your phone." You spoke, but it was perhaps too quiet. "Clint! Answer your phone!" You shouted, getting everyone's attention. It was the first time you had spoken in a long time, never mind shouted.

It was Laura. Oh my god. It was Laura.

Scott looked out of the windows, admiring the birds. There were so many more birds. He spun around and laughed.

And that's when it hit. You weren't even sure what it was, but then you were falling through the air. Your surroundings were crumbling and it all happened so fast you couldn't even react. Steve grabbed a hold of your arm and drew you to their chest, protecting you as you tumbled.

As you collided, your mind swarmed with so many thoughts. What the hell had happened, and was Peter back?

The battle raged. You didn't even know if everyone was out of the rubble. The battlefield was the now ruins of the only real home you had ever known. You lined up with Cap, and the others. And stared down what you were almost certain would be your death.

As the alien army marched closer, Steve turned to you. "You should run, (y/n). You have your whole life ahead of you."

You smiled, almost sadly, at him. "Cap, I don't think there is a life after this." He sighed, knowing that it was no use. You had been raised better than to abandon your family, and he knew that it was his fault. He couldn't save you.

Suddenly, sorcerer circles opened behind you and the ones you had lost came pouring in. Including him.

Are you still a mind reader? A natural scene stealer. I've heard great things, Peter. But life was always easier on you, than it was on me.

There was little time for rejoice as the army advanced towards you.

"Avengers!" Steve called. "...assemble."

And with that, you were running. You watched as spider-man flitted in and out of the hordes, doing his bit. You ran towards him, and held no mercy for any rogue soldier who dared to come near you and him. The others protected him too, and you were glad of it.

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The battle was won but Tony was lost. You stared as Pepper cried by Tony's body, his eyes open, his body and face badly burned from the impact of the stones. There was a circle of Avengers around him. Just staring. No one knowing what to do, or say.

Peter. Your Peter. Collapsed into a heap near him, his emotions taking over. It was instinctual, the way you ran to him.

"Hey," You whispered, gathering him up into your arms. "I've got you. He's resting now. He saved us." You tried throwing every phrase people had ever thrown at you, at Peter. You knew it all meant nothing to him.

You looked down at his face, and horror crossed your face as you realised how much older than him you were now.

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Steve watched his youngest team members in the puddle on the ground, the kid who had given him a run for his money in Germany, and the girl he had raised these past few years. He watched as your heart broke, and Peter couldn't even see it. He knew exactly what was going though, watching the now 21-year-old you holding a still 16-year-old Peter.

As emergency services and the military started to pull into what used to be the Avengers Compound, he knew there had to be a co-ordinated effort to resolve the tragedies they had just witnessed.

He walked over to you both and whispered softly, "Come on, kids, there's work to be done."

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And sometimes it gets me, when crossing your jetstream, We both did the best we could do underneath the same moon but in different galaxies.

"(y/n)." You didn't hear him say your name until that night. Well, the next morning, you suppose. You didn't even know what time it was.

Your face softened as you saw him. After the compound was destroyed, Clint was kind enough to bring you all to his house with Laura and the children, just until something more permanent was sorted out. It had been a couple of weeks now, and you had barely exchanged a word with anyone.

"Hi, Pete." You breathed out. He looked at your face, intently. Like he was searching for something he recognised, and couldn't find it. "How... how are you?"

"I'm alright. Um... yeah. Doing okay."

"Good, good." You hummed, sipping your cup of tea.

There was a moment of silence as the two of you looked out over the farm.

He cleared his throat. "(y/n), can we talk? I..." He faltered. "I miss you."

You looked at him, a little panicked, you'll admit. You didn't even know where to begin thinking about how to go about moving on with your relationship with Peter. You had been together for a year... but that was five years ago. That's not even considering that fact that he was still in high school and you were now of drinking age, at college. Shit, you still hadn't done that assignment.

"Peter, I..." His puppy eyes made your heart break. "I'm an adult now... it's been five years for me, and I... I changed a lot, in that time."

"Right, yeah." Tears swelled to his eyes. "You're right, yeah." You knew he was putting on a brave face.

"I'm sorry, Peter. For now, we have to go our separate ways, I think." Tears crashed down his cheeks, but he never broke eye contact with you. "I... I have to go back to college, and I won't see you for a while."

And I didn't want to hang around... We said it was just goodbye, for now

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Thank you for reading! I'm really new to posting on this blog, so any likes and reblogs are so appreciated! <3

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