Thank you for the feedback to the first chapter! It's only a two-shot, so this is the last bit. It's very short, I'm sorry; but it's also 11:55 pm and I'm sleepy.
Soului- Yes, that's exactly what I thought! I really wish he had survived.
XxScarlettRosexX- Thank you very much!
Disclaimer: Again, not me. *sad face*
-Her face mushed into the pillow and the smell of dried salt water at her nostril, Gwen wakes to a dead arm. She shifts out of the uncomfortable position and shakes her dead arm out from underneath her. She brushes at the top pillow, a dark stain of water spread across the fabric. Gwen wipes under her stinging eyes and finds smudged make up and dried tears. The previous night's events come rushing back and she gasps, throwing herself out of bed and bolting down the hallway. Her father had insisted she slept in her own bedroom whilst Peter rested in the spare room; and no matter how much she pleaded, George would not let her stay with him. She opens the spare room door a crack, peering in.
Peter Parker lays flat on top of the duvet, covered only in a thin blanket. Her father had cleaned the wound as best he could, and Peter's bare torso is wrapped in thick white bandages. The bruise on his cheekbone is now yellow and pink, and the gashes on his cheeks are already mere scabs.
The ghost of a smile crosses Gwen's lips and she slips in and to his side. She sinks to her knees on the floor by his head and leans her chin on her arms. He stirs at the sudden tip in the mattress and automatically turns his head to the cause. The corners of his lips tug ever so slightly upwards and he blinks slowly down at her.
"Hey." She whispers.
Peter says nothing; he moves his arms to cup her neck and then jaw and cheek. He exhales deeply and ragged and coughs into the crook of his elbow. Gwen covers his hand with her own and tilts her head into his palm.
"You came here last night, hurt. Dad fixed you up pretty good and you slept here. Well, passed out… here." She chuckles awkwardly and bites her lip, to which Peter lets out a pained chuckle and nods as best he can sideways.
"Peter, what the hell happened out there?"
Peter sighs, removing his hand from under hers and turning to look back at the ceiling. His eyes catch glow-in-the-dark stars and the remnants of sticky flowers and race cars. He smiles. It's an old nursery.
When Gwen mumbles his name again, he takes a deep breath, wincing at the pain in his chest.
"This was your room, wasn't it?"
"What?" He hears the confusion in his voice.
"The stars. And the flowers. It was your nursery."
Gwen frowns and follows his gaze, shaking her head in frustration.
"Well, yeah. My brothers' too. Why?"
"Cute. I don't remember my nursery."
Peter smiles gently at the decorations and reaches for Gwen's hand. She hastily wipes tears off her cheek before he can see.
"I don't really remember what happened. Last night." He pipes up out of nowhere and catches her by surprise. "I was scaling a building and a shot went off, and… I don't remember."
"Do you remember coming back here?"
"I remember you; your face; you saying my name. That's it."
Gwen smiles and strokes his face.
"That's nice, Parker."
"I was aiming for adorable." Despite his wounded, bedraggled state, the damn boy still manages to whip out a full puppy-dog-eyed gaze. Gwen laughs and kisses the back of his hand.
"Adorable too. You'll be okay, won't you, Peter?"
He grins and closes his eyes, pressing his forehead to hers.
"Course I will. I have you. Oh, and I'm Spiderman."