I awoke with a start, my mind sharp, my thoughts clear, and my body hot. My heart raced and I was drenched in sweat. I sat up quickly, scanning the room as my head thumped along to the sound of my heart. The room was lit by a dim light that glowed faintly behind my headstand. It didn’t look like a normal hospital room, it looked sleek, more modern. That was probably Harry’s doing. I glanced outside. It was dark out, the dead of night. The windows were large and tinted, with a great view of the city, peppered with lights, beyond. The night sky was dark, and even from up here I could hear sirens echoing through the streets. There were a lot. Far too many. It was bad, wasn’t it?

I clenched my fists as I lay against the headboard, the bed creaking slightly under my shifting weight. I looked down at all the tubes connected to my arms, marked with small bruises and closed cuts. I frowned. I was already healing. How long had it been? A few days? Then what were the sirens for? Had the explosion caused more damage throughout the city? I looked around quickly but couldn’t find any sign of a clock or a phone. I had no way to tell the time. I pulled out the tubes and wires, wincing at the sharpness of the pain before standing up. Apart from the slight ache in my leg, I felt ok. I made my way over to the windows, peering outside. A large plume of smoke still filled the sky, fading into the sky above. If there was still smoke it couldn’t have been more than a few hours. Then how was I already healing? Had my injuries not been as bad as I’d expected? Well, Lucas had taken the brunt of the blast. Considering he was definitely a metahuman, so he was probably a lot more durable than your average person, but to take the brunt of an explosion like that…

I felt a stab of guilt. Hopefully he was ok. I didn’t want anyone else dying because of me. I winced, a hot pain lancing through my head. As I stepped back, my eyes focused on my reflection. I looked like shit. My hair was a tangled mess with dry patches of crimson peppered throughout. I had a large bruise on the left side of my face, and my eyes were red, puffy, the greens of my irises only barely visible slits. I hadn’t looked this bad since high-school.

I paused, frowning. My glasses. I blinked quickly. I didn’t have any contacts in and I was seeing just fine. Weird. I walked over to the door and tested it. It opened smoothly and I peered outside into a spotless marble hallway. Yeah, this was definitely Harry’s doing. I went to step forwards and stumbled, feeling a burning pain in my chest. I grabbed my heart falling to the floor and struggled for breath. You idiot. You’re in the hospital for a reason.

I ignored the thought and hefted myself off the floor, sweating. My gown clung to me, the fabric smooth against my skin, and my face burned, the air hotter than the cold marble floor. I steadied myself against the door, still struggling for breath and heard a gasp. Before I could even look up, there were hands holding me tightly.

“Peter?! Are you alright?! What happened?!” a familiar voice said.

It was Aunt May. I could hear it from the worry in her voice. I tried to slip from her grasp and stand up myself, but she held onto me with an iron grip.

If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

“I’m alright” I mumbled, before breaking out into a coughing fit.

“Nurse! Nurse!” May shouted before cursing under her breath.

“I’m alright” I said, pushing myself up. It took me a few seconds to stand up properly and I was struggling for breath afterwards. Something must’ve happened to my lungs and heart.

May helped me back over to the bed and set me down softly. I took a few deep breaths, my lungs still burning.

“Peter?” May said, her voice filled with concern.

“I’m fine” I said. I laid back down and took a few seconds to recover before sighing. By the time I’d recovered, Aunt May was already at the door, calling for a nurse. I tried to call out to her but ended up coughing hoarsely. I gave up and laid back down, resting my hand on my still burning chest.

The nurse came in a few moments later, reattaching everything I’d taken off and scolding me for getting up. May watched nervously, waiting for the nurse to finish before giving him a piece of her mind for not coming sooner. He left quickly, after apologising profusely. May sat down next to me and placed her hand on my shoulder.

“If you need anything from the nurse, then just press this button on the side of your bed. He’ll come quickly” she said. I turned to her and nodded, wincing slightly.

Turning back to look up at the ceiling, I closed my eyes. Apart from the low hum of the headboard light, the room was quiet. I wanted to lie here, blissfully unaware of my surroundings, but my mind wouldn’t let me. The sound of another siren zooming through the street sent a shiver down my spine. I opened my eyes and sat up, gritting my teeth as not to wince again.

“Peter lie back down. We don’t want you hurting yourself” she said sternly. I turned to her dreading my next words. Is there a good way to phrase this. I mean, how can you even ask your mom whether or not your friends are dead in a nice way? Maybe slowly is the best way to do it. Or maybe it’s better to get it over with quickly. I didn’t have to worry about this with Uncle Ben. I was just realising now the not knowing might be worse. I let out a breath, I just needed to get it over with.

I grimaced, looking up.

“Are they still, getting people out the wreck?” I asked. That’s not what I wanted to ask. May’s mouth twisted, contorting her stern expression into one of sadness.

“No, they got everyone out quickly. There was… another incident with two metahumans. They… a lot of people died” she said. Jesus. I don’t know how to respond to that. I don’t know if it’s appropriate for me to feel relieved that the sirens aren’t for the research centre.

“Peter I-“

“Are my friends ok?” I asked, accidentally interrupting her.

“…I’m sorry” she replied. I closed my eyes, my heart dropping. Dammit. I look back up at her, my eyes wet.

“At least tell me Gwen’s fine” I said, my voice desperate.

Her expression shifted, and my heart shattered. I want to look away, but I can’t, my gaze fixed on her expression, praying with all my being I’ve misinterpreted it somehow.

“I’m so sorry Peter” May said, her grip on my hand tightening. She didn’t need to say anymore. Her apology was enough. I felt my hands start to tremble and I bit the inside of my cheek to centre myself. My head starts to spin, my body trying to escape the moment. I clench my fists. I need to say something. Anything.

“I…are Uncle George and Aunt Helen ok?“ I mumble, my mouth not feeling like my own. Aunt May looked up, her eyes watery. She has a look of pity.

“I- they haven’t reached out yet. We’ve sent our condolences, but for now, we’re giving them space” she said. I nodded slowly, looking away.

I looked to the window, out at the city, searching aimlessly for something amongst the lights. I don’t find anything. This doesn’t feel real, but I know it is. I can feel it on every bruise, cut and scrape covering my body.

“I didn’t… I-“ my words turn into chokes as I clutch at my chest, a different kind of pain burning at my heart. My body’s finally caught up to my mind. Dammit. I promised myself I wouldn’t cry in front of May again. She pulled me into a hug, clutching me tightly. She mumbled something, but I can’t even hear her over the sound of my own sobs. She’s gone. Gwen’s dead.