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dragonrajafanfiction · 3 years

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Dragon Dancer IV: Tightrope Walker

Once upon a time, I, Chuang Chou, dreamed I was a butterfly, fluttering here and there. For all intents and purposes I was a butterfly. I was conscious only of my happiness as a butterfly, unaware that I was Chou. Soon, I awakened and, there I was, veritably myself again. Now I do not know whether I was then a man, dreaming I was a butterfly, or whether I am now a butterfly, dreaming I am a man. -- Zhuangzi

“We’re here.”

The train had come to a sudden stop, but I didn’t feel the change in inertia. The scenery outside the window had just stopped moving. There was no sound of a whistle or breaks. The unnerving sensation broke me out in a cold sweat and goosebumps all over. I started to shake. “Mingfei...”

“It’s okay.” He took my hand. “Everything’s going to be fine. I know where we are.”

Together we stepped off the train. There was no platform, so Mingfei jumped off first and then held up his hands to brace me and let me down. The train had stopped at two large concrete barriers. We’d literally reached the end of the line and the thought of that made me shudder. “Mingfei.” I said, my voice a soft hoarse whisper.

“What is it.”

“I want to go back. This is a mistake.”

Mingfei took a deep breath and let it out. “I know you’re nervous. But you have to trust me okay? I know what’s here. I know what’s going to happen.”

He continued to lead me by the hand. I dragged my feet and he slowed his pace, not willing to tug me along.

We came to a wide open area that was partially collapsed. A large dragon skeleton was half-buried in the rubble. The bones were gleaming white and it reminded me of a 737 airplane.

“This is it. This is where I killed Fenrir.”

In the middle of the area was a large golden box shining with a green patina. Mingfei let go of my hand and jogged to it. “Yes. This is what I’m looking for.”

He pressed a button on the box and it snapped open unfolding half a dozen blades inserted in to individual sheathes. Each blade snarled and roared and rattled as though alive, but Mingfei wasn’t afraid. His hand hovered over them as he tried to pick out which one he would use.

“Come here.” He beckoned to me. “You get one too.”

I approached cautiously. “Are you sure it’s okay?”

“Yeah,” He pulled out one and it hissed in his hand in protest. “You’re S-ranked. They’ll respond to you.” It was a long curved blade of slate colored Damascene steel, beautifully striated.

“This one is called Wrath.”

“The others are Pride, Lust, Sloth...Envy, Greed and... huh. Gluttony is missing.”

“The Seven Deadly Sins...”

He looked at me as I approached and I looked away, bashfully hiding the sudden attraction these blades held for me.

“They’re the ultimate dragon slaying weapons. Forged by the Lord of Bronze and Fire specifically for killing the other dragons.”

“Is there a dragon here?” I asked.

A voice behind me made me start. “Please don’t ask stupid questions. You’re way smarter than that.”

Mingze stood in front of the concrete barrier, one hand on his waist, his sword, the missing Gluttony, pointed toward the ground. His smile was gone and his gaze was more frigid than ever. He turned his attention to Mingfei. “You can really hurt me with those you know. To be honest, I was kind of hoping you’d sleep a little longer. But I suppose three fourths of your life will have to do.”

My heart leaped in my throat and my lungs worked like bellows. This guy. This was the one who was going to take Mingfei!

I reached out without looking and seized one of the handles. It screamed as I drew it and I charged him, swinging it at his neck.

He simply leaned out of the way, and turned and fled up the pile of rubble with me hot on his heels. We sent stones cascading down the mountainous heap, the sound of our blades echoing in the empty space. But Mingze stayed just out of of the reach of my sword. He was above me, staring down with a smug smile

“Sibling rivalry is hard enough without your interference.” He said.

The rubble suddenly shifted under my feet. The white spike of a bone jabbed upward between us. The shifting rock made me lose my footing and I was falling, tumbling in a rockslide. The world spun. I couldn’t see. My vision exploded into sparks.

I suddenly stopped, a strong jerk halting my fall. I was hanging and being swung. Something had caught the back of my dress. I looked around, disoriented by shifting bones that glowed with a faint greenish light. I reached up behind me to free myself until I realized I was a dozen feet off the floor. Instead, used the momentum of my swinging to toss myself upward and grab on to another bone.

The dragon skeleton was reanimating. A yellow light in the empty eye sockets. Mingze was gone again, leaving me trapped in this maze of moving bone. Mingfei stood, staying far too calm in this situation. “Don’t do it!” I called down to him.

I had to stop this. My sword had come loose from my hand and was being ground between the vertabrae above my head. “Wait Mingfei! Don’t do it!”

The dragon skeleton lumbered forward, silently toward an unmoving Mingfei.

“Meixiu! Calm down! It’s fine!”

Mingfei was smiling. I thought he still didn’t understand. My mind was filled with dread over what might happen if Mingfei remembered his power. I wrapped my legs around the rib and start to shimmy upward, like climbing a rope at a gym class.

The blade was still stuck. The bones on the spine were grinding together with tremendous force, enough to crush me in a second. I reached for the sword but it as just beyond my fingertips.

I glanced back at Mingfei. The undead dragon was half way out of the rubble and Mingfei was petting it like it was a cat.

I stopped. They weren’t going to fight?

Mingfei looked up at me. “See? Fenrir is not aggressive. Never was.”

I stared, uncertain. A deep thundering voice echoed through the cavern. “Watch... TV.”

Mingfei sighed, a deep sadness on his face. “Sorry, buddy. I’m just here for the swords. I can’t watch TV right now.”

I was frozen in confusion watching as the zombie dragon settled down in front of a piece of 80s technology that somehow managed to get reception down here. Meanwhile, Mingfei called me down from the Dragon’s rib cage. “Meixiu! Jump! I’ll catch you!”

“Oh... ...Okay.” I gathered myself and took a flying leap, down, down and landed on Mingfei. He staggered back and fell.

The dragon suddenly turned, eyes blazing in its empty skull. Its mouth opened, shining fangs on display. It spread its intimidating wingspan.

“Woah! Easy buddy! She’s a friend too!”

I watched in awe as the dragon settled down again, looking at me. Its wings lowered. “Play....?”

Mingfei let out a little laugh. “Nah. No time for that.”

“Sister... play... play with me...”

“...eh?” I asked.

“He thinks you’re his sister... I...” Mingfei’s eyes suddenly welled up with tears and he let out a sob. “I killed him.’

“You... ... but why?” I shook my head.

“It was messed up! Chu Zihang came and attacked him. But... he wasn’t doing anything. But I had no chance to explain anything. Hee was too strong, it was Chu Zihang or Fenrir and well...”

He wiped his eyes on his sleeve.

I suddenly felt a sharp nudge. “Play?”

The dragon was now pushing me, like a puppy wanting to be pet.

Mingfei took my hand and we were about to leave but Mingze was blocking our path. His unpleasant smile told us everything without words.

“NO!” Mingfei tossed me aside and rushed towards Mingze, but the boy vanished. The cavern was suddenly rocked by a massive earthquake, bursting with heat and light, like a bomb had gone off. The dragon suddenly picked me up and tossed me behind him, standing protectively over me, hissing at this new threat.

Mingze was now completely different. Gone was his pristine suit and elegant shoes and boyish smile. Instead, his face was expressionless, his arms covered with iron blue scales that were as hard as steel. They opened and shut against his skin with a faint rattling sound, like the cocking of a hundred tiny pistols.

His dark bony wings stroked the air, keeping him aloft. Even though he couldn’t use any words here, the surging spiritual power came naturally from him, filling the cavern with the oppressive sense of impending doom. Even if I had the power of Berengaria, I had the feeling he could extinguish all my spears of light as easily as birthday candles.

Mingfei roared up at him. “Hey! Stop! leave Fenrir out of this!”

“You know how this ends, brother. If you want me, you’re going to have to come up here and get me!” Mingze was mocking. Just the heat of his body was moving air around him like a giant furnace. He inhaled a huge amount of air and the wind formed a vortex that began to swallow up the heat radiating from him. The scorching wind was then directed at the undead dragon.

The wind was too hot to breathe, like the powerful pyroclastic air that flowed down from mount Vesuvius. My skin was growing red. I felt like I was burning all over!

The smell of the burning dragon bones was overpowering. I thought of my husband, my daughter, who were going to grow up without me and started to cry, but my tears evaporated before they could fall.

“CANCEL!”

The word boomed out over the sound of the wind and the dragon’s roars, like a large bell from a church tower. In rang in my ears and I suddenly felt a strong spiritual pressure. My mind and body were both arrested in an instant.

The hot wind ceased, the air grew cool and still. Fenrir’s bones were still red hot and to the touch and stinking. But the attack had stopped.

My eyelids were sticking to my dry eyes but I could still look up and see. I saw the empty spot where Mingfei was and rolled my eyes upward. My heart fell to the pit of my stomach and my body went limp with despair.

Mingfei had gone up to get Mingze. Huge bone wings spread out behind him forming a cross with his body. Standing in the dark emptiness, his golden pupils shined so brightly that I could see the light even though his back was turned to me.

Our souls were bonded together since the day we both nearly died outside the dragon temple in the mountains. I’d asked him not to leave me and he chose to stay. If only I had let him die in that moment. If only we had both died.

“Say the words brother... say the words you said that night.” Mingze’s voice was cold and flat sounding.

“This isn’t a play and you don’t write the script. Not any more.”

It didn’t even sound like him. Mingfei didn’t talk like that. There was an eerie commanding calm to his voice, like someone who had never known fear. Unlike the Mingfei I knew, this was his natural state. It took real effort for him to maintain this aura of weakness, of ignorance, effort and a team of people around him kept his mind quiet while telling him he was human and weak.

But all it took was a separation from this environment and, like a tightrope walker in a strong wind, Mingfei began to give in to the pull of his natural state. Once he started down that path, there was no turning back.

“You’re so confident. But you’ve sold three fourths of your life to me. You still think you can win?” Mingze laughed.

This person who used to be Mingfei turned to me, he waved his hand in the air and I felt myself gently lifted and set aside.

He then turned to the bones of Fenrir raised one hand and then closed it into a fist.

The massive moving skeleton shattered into dust and, drawn by an invisible gravity, this dust surrounded Mingfei. Slowly, a bony armored plating coalesced on his arms and legs and a helmet appeared on his head, covering his hair in boney white. The sword I’d left in the vertebrae settled in his hand.

Mingze’s eyes widened and he ground his teeth. “You...”

Mingfei, continuing his strange silence, suddenly pounced on Mingze, gripping his neck with hands reinforced with dragon bone and pierced his scales through with claws.

Mingze let out an unnatural screech and jerked away. Mingfei had left long bloody cuts in the skin not protected by scales and the younger brother was clearly shaken. “You... you hurt me. Brother... you hurt me! Don’t you know? Don’t you know that if you hurt me here. You hurt me there?”

The scene suddenly shifted. As I blinked my eyes, I saw strange pillars and bubbling pools of mercury rising in a steam, filling the air. In the the center of a circle of runes was a metal cross. Hung on the cross was a child, his skin white, and so thin that I could count his ribs. He was pierced in the heart and fastened to this pole with a spear.

My mind recognized this as a place I could go. I could cross the Nibelungen and I would arrive in this place I could see. The mercury pools were real. The cross was real. The child was real.

Lu Mingze, the little brother, was still alive. His body was hung on this cross.

And I could get to him.

#Dragon Raja #Fanfiction #Writing #Lu Mingfei #Lu Mingze

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hazandholland · 6 years

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Anybody but Peter. Not Peter.

Written by Christina

Category: Flangst? Fluffy Angst? Angsty fluff? Whatever you might cry from happiness or pain. Or both. Who knows.

Word count: 5,761… I think this is my longest one. Idk I went kind of crazy

Request: “Hi can I please have a Peter Parker imagine where it takes place during the civil war battle and the reader gets crushed or drowned. And when she wakes up in the hospital peter confesses his love and kiss and then a shit ton of fluff” by @anntol2001

Warning: Mention of blood, injuries, hospital stay, medical terms, bullying. If I missed anything else, please let me know. This is an intense one, and I don’t want to trigger or scare anyone.

A/N: This is such a long and intense fic, you guys. I also did some quick research on comas and the medical terms that went with them. But don’t worry if you don’t understand them; you can understand the fic without the terminology. I hope you enjoy the fic, though!

You ducked behind the large black cargo box as a loud explosion boomed above your head, the shock wave rattling your bones and pushing your hair over your face, covering your eye. You blew the strand out of way and stood up, grabbing one of the stun disks from your belt. You engineered them, with help from Tony and Bruce so you could disable the enemy without causing major harm, only sore muscles and maybe a moderate headache when the effect wore off. You saw Hawkeye about ten feet in front of you, launching arrows every which way, protecting a giant Scott Lang, who was battling Peter and Tony. You crossed the fingers on your empty hand as you aimed and chucked the disk at Hawkeye, aka Clint Barton. The archer saw the disk coming as it reflected a beam of sunlight directly into his eye. With his nearly inhuman speed, he fitted an arrow into his bow and launched it at the disk, shattering it. The disk exploded into a small plume of smoke and bolts of electricity.

“Oh you’ve got to be kidding me,” you groaned as Clint made eye contact with you and smirked. You barely had time to duck behind the box again he launched a stun arrow of his own. Thankfully, you had slipped out of its range in time and the arrow collided with another box in front of you. You knew Clint was going to come face you hand-to-hand since he knew your position so you bolted up and sprinted across the debris-littered airport, ducking behind a crumbled part of an airplane wing. You loved being in the heat of a good superhero battle as much as the next teenager, but you didn’t like the fact that it was because Tony and Steve couldn’t resolve their issues. They just needed to kiss and make up. Speaking of kissing, your mind floated to Peter and you hoped he was doing all right. You popped your head out from behind your cover, looking for his new blue and red suit.

You had known Peter basically your whole life. Not that you were friends since you could walk or anything. You two didn’t become friends until middle school when Flash Thompson snatched Peter’s glasses off his face and broke them. You were a few lockers down, debating on stepping in when Flash proceeded to push poor Peter into the nearest locker. You had enough and you gave Flash an earful. You didn’t want to physically fight him, but you would if you had to. Flash started to try and shove into the locker next to Peter when you managed to give Flash a split lip and a beautiful black eye. Your parents insisted you take self-defense classes when you started to ride the subway on your own to school, so a basic jab with your non-dominant hand and a hook with your dominant fist was natural. Ever since that day, you and Peter became friends and protected each other ever since.

You had been interning at Stark Tower for about six months, so you already knew Tony. He let you tag along in the labs, conduct experiments, and supply ideas. Occasionally, Tony and Bruce let you help manufacture new less-lethal weapons for combat. When you found out Peter had his “Stark Internship”, you asked to meet up at Stark Tower sometime during one of your breaks to say hi. You weren’t expecting him to literally swing by in his Spider-Man suit, but hey, it added to his character. And that was one more reason to be protective of the boy.

So, naturally, when Tony Stark showed up randomly in Peter’s apartment the other day after school and asked if he wanted to join his team to help with the whole Steve situation, Tony invited you too. Well, it was more like you said you were going, and Tony didn’t exactly say no to you tagging along. You wanted to look out for Peter, after all. Peter had numerous protests, but you didn’t need him to look after you.

Your protective instincts took over when you saw Peter launch a web around giant Scott’s legs and began to rotate Scott’s knees, making him falter. Tony and Rhodes flew by and landed powerful uppercuts to Scott’s chin, making the giant fall. Peter whooped and hollered in triumph. Until one of Scott’s hands, flailing about, hit Peter, sending the boy flying. You gasped as you saw Peter tumble over an airplane and out of sight, followed by a series of thuds and crashes. You stood in shock for a few seconds, your heart stopping and all the air escaping your lungs. As if there was a switch in your body, your legs behind to move, making you sprint as fast as you could towards Peter’s direction. You searched behind the black cargo boxes, scanning for Peter.

“Peter,” You whispered, tears building in your eyes, blurring your vision. You look around frantically, spinning in circles.

“Peter!” You said a little louder, not caring that you were saying his real name. You were too concerned for him. He wasn’t Spider-Man, the wall-crawler from New York City. He was Peter Parker, the little boy with the glasses two sizes too big, the teenager with the brain that can understand calculus and quantum mechanics better than the teacher, the boy with the nerdy jokes and the nervous stutter. He was your Peter Parker. And he was hurt. Tears fell down your cheeks as you ran more, looking behind the boxes.

Anybody but Peter. Not Peter.

You found him after looking behind at least six boxes. His legs were sticking out from behind one of the cargo boxes. You sprinted faster than you ever have before towards him. Your legs got tangled up with each other and you fell. You felt something hit your jaw and your momentum made you skid across the rough concrete. You felt like your palms had witnessed a few swipes of sandpaper across them and your jaw stung a little, but you didn’t think about them as you looked at the limp boy beside you.

Peter was laying on his side, his arms slightly curled around himself. His mask had ridden up his face, revealing his cheek and part of his eye, nose, and mouth. He was motionless. Your mind was reeling so fast and your heart was pounding so fast that you couldn’t tell if he was breathing or not. You gulped. You needed to know if he was alive. Of course he was alive. He was just hurt. More tears fell down your face. Peter was hurt. You gathered up your courage and hesitantly reached your hand out, gently touching his shoulder, bracing yourself to roll him over.

Anybody but Peter. Not Peter.

As soon as your fingers grazed his shoulder, he lurched up, flailing his arms about, trying to slap his attacker as his legs tried to get him as far away from you as possible.

“No no no no no! Get away from me!” Peter yelled, managing to push you, making you land on your rear.

“Peter! It’s me, you dummy! It’s me! Y/N!” You said loudly, looking at the frantic boy. He froze as soon as he heard your name. He scrambled to his knees and ripped his mask off. His gorgeous curly hair tumbled around his face as he stared at you, wide-eyed. His pink lips were parted as he panted and his pupils were dilated from fear. You sat still, breathing hard yourself as you took him in. His suit was intact; no tears or rips. He had a bruise forming on his eye, but other than that, he appeared to be in one piece. You sighed in relief. Your Peter was safe.

“Y/N,” Peter breathed, his eyes softening. Well, as soft as they could get with the adrenaline coursing through his bloodstream. He scooted over to you. He towered over you slightly, with him on his knees and you sitting down. He reached a gloved hand out and rested it on your neck, thumb grazing your jaw as he smiled and breathed out a sigh of relief. You wondered what his lips would feel like against yours. You blinked, trying to shove the thoughts out of your head. You’re just Peter’s friend, right?

“You’re here.” He said softly, looking at you with wonder. You felt your cheeks heat up and you knew they were as bright as cherries. You looked away, not wanting to leave his touch totally. Peter began to run his hands over the rest of your neck, over your scalp, shoulders and down your arms to your hands. Your heart pounded at his gentle, loving touch. The most you and Peter ever did was the occasional hug after an emotional or mental breakdown and daily high-fives. This was completely different and you didn’t want it to end. You closed your eyes, savoring his tough.

“Hey, you’re bleeding,” Peter said, fear rising in his voice. You opened your eyes, feeling your brow crinkle as you reached your own hand up and ran it along your jawline. Your fingers felt broken skin and fire shot through your jaw. You hissed and retracted your hand. You looked the boy again. You watched his face show shock, concern, fear, and anger within a short second. His jaw clenched and he looked you deep in the eyes as he gripped your shoulders, painfully tight.

“What happened? Who did this? Are you hurt anywhere else? What happened?” Peter’s rapid-fire questions made your brain overload; you’ve never seen Peter like this. He was always gentle with you. He knew how strong he was, so he rarely laid a hand on you to avoid any catastrophes. His grip on your shoulders made you wince and your eyes widen.

“I tripped,” You whispered, staring at the boy, wide-eyed. “I was running and I…Can you let me go?…” Peter released your arms and rested them on his knees, his expression not changing.

“Are you hurt anywhere else,” Peter said shortly. You knew it was a question but his voice was so dark it didn’t sound like one. You shook your head, looking at the ground. The sound of Tony’s Iron Man suit clanking against the ground as he landed broke the moment between the two of you. The billionaire’s mask and helmet were off, revealing a bloody and concerned face.

“Kid,” Tony breathed, fear evident in his voice. “You alright?”

Peter nodded, his previous anger gone. His shoulders dropped and he was the awkward, shy boy you knew. “Y-y-y-yeah, I’m f-fine, Mr. Stark.” Tony let out a little sigh of relief. When he saw you sitting on the ground next to Peter, Tony’s eyes darted between Peter and you. You gulped and felt the heat rise to your cheeks again. Tony smirked a little before his helmet and mask clicked back into place.

“You’re out, kid,” Tony said, nodding towards Peter. His voice was a little echoey because of the suit. He fired up his arc reactors and he started to hover a few feet above the ground. “Meet you at the hotel. Don’t leave till I get back.” With that, Tony flew off towards the battle. Peter raised his hand and shouted after Tony.

“Hey, hey I’m fine! I can-” He tried to get up, but he groaned and gripped his stomach, falling over. “Okay nevermind, I’ll stay here.” You giggled and leaned forward to see the battle. Scott was normal size, but sitting on the stairs of the private jet eating something. Nat and Clint were sparring on the other side of the jet. Tony, Rhodes, and Falcon were dive-bombing each other in the sky. Steve and Bucky were hiding behind some cargo crates about a hundred yards from you and Peter. You could see by the way their bodies were angled that they were trying to get to the hanger bay. You sighed, then stood up. You rolled your shoulders and neck, getting all your muscles loose. You should help stop them.

“Whoa whoa whoa,” Peter said, darting to his feet and grabbing your arm. He groaned a little and stumbled, almost pulling you to the ground. You gasped and somehow managed to wrap your arms around Peter, keeping him upright. His face was contorted a little in pain as he looked at you. “Where do you think you’re going?”

You let out a little sigh, the shock and fear wearing off. You felt ready to jump back into the fight. Peter was all right, and that was all that mattered.

“Back to the fight, silly,” You said. Peter’s eyes widened and he grabbed your shoulders.

“No! You’re not going back there! You could barely even walk or whatever without getting hurt. You’re not jumping into a fight with superheroes!” Peter protested, his grip on you tightening. You bit back a groan and crouched down, letting Peter sit on the ground.

“Yeah, I’m going back into the fight. A few scrapes won’t stop me, Parker,” You said, a little irritated.

“You’re not going,” Peter said, staring you with his jaw set again. You raised an eyebrow.

“Oh really?” You taunted, feeling a smirk tug on your lips. “Try and stop me.” You rolled backward, executing a reverse somersault and jumped onto your feet, tucking a strand of hair behind your ears while you started running towards the fight. “See ya, Parker!” As you darted between the boxes, you heard Peter yelling for you. The boy was sweet, but he didn’t need to look after you all the time. You could handle yourself. You scanned for Steve and Bucky as you ran. You saw them about thirty feet from you. You grabbed a couple of the stun disks from your belt and let out a deep breath as you stopped, held your arms back then launched them forward, spinning the disks in one smooth motion. Each disk hurtled toward Steve and Bucky. Unfortunately, Steve saw the disks coming and threw his shield over him and Bucky.

Thank goodness Steve’s shield was metal. Metal was an excellent conductor. The electricity from the stun disks spread across the shield in arching blue and white bolts. Steve grunted and his legs crumbled, making him fall to the ground.

“Steve!” You heard Bucky shout as he crouched next to his comrade. Steve twitched as the electricity coursed through him, until the disk did its job and left Steve on the ground, motionless.

You started sprinting to them, hoping you could catch them off guard enough to get a few punches in. You were about ten feet away when you grabbed another disk and launched it at Bucky. The super soldier saw it coming though and dodged out of the way. You let your momentum help you out as you jumped, leaping over Steve and threw a leg out, aiming for Bucky’s sternum. The soldier dodged again and your feet collided with the cargo crate. Pain rattled through your leg as you grunted, landing on the balls of your feet, fists up, ready to face Bucky.

He was a few yards away from you, on the balls of his feet but hands at his sides. You knew he wouldn’t try very hard. He had no problems fighting a woman if need be, but he did have problems with fighting too hard and almost killing someone. That was what he was trained for. You were trained to stun and immobilize, but Bucky was trained to kill. At least you had that knowledge on your side as you circled Bucky, trying to back him into a corner.

“Y/N,” Bucky said, holding his hands out a little as he rotated with you, backing away. His back was to the corner, but there was still a lot of side room for him to escape. You need him back farther. You started stalking forward, reaching a hand down to grab your stun disks. Maybe if you hit his animatronic arm…

You didn’t even think to double-check that Steve was unconscious. The thought never crossed your mind as you felt something hard collide into your back, sending you tumbling forward. You shrieked a little as you skid, your already scraped palms grating against the concrete again. You landed on your back and as you rolled onto your side, you saw two streaks of blood from where your hands hit the ground to where they were now. You groaned and slowly stood up. Steve and Bucky were nowhere to be seen. You crinkled your brow in confusion as you looked around, searching for them. You spotted them; about a hundred yards from you, sprinting towards the hanger bay. You starting jogging towards them, the motion jarring your sore leg and now your sensitive back. You bit back a groan and pushed into a sprint. You heard whooshing overhead and saw Tony still battling Sam. You glanced at where Clint and T’Challa were dueling. Wanda and Vision were having a showdown. Peter was down for the rest of the fight, and you knew Nat was hiding somewhere, so it looked like it was just you.

Well, at least Peter’s not in this situation.

You sprinted as fast as you could, trying to catch the two super soldiers. No one had noticed that they were heading to the hanger bay and they were just jogging, so you were fairly close to them in a reasonable amount of time. You were nearly out of breath as you reached for two more stun disks in your fists, trying to figure out where you want them to go down. You decided right before the hanger bay was good, so you launched both disks at the soldiers.

You missed. You simply missed.

Steve and Bucky wheeled around, skidding to a stop as they saw you sprinting towards, red-faced with fatigue and embarrassment. You had to miss. The two men turned on their heels and sprinted towards the hangar bay. You saw a quinjet sitting in the middle of the bay, unguarded and ready for takeoff. You knew you weren’t going to catch them on your own. You needed help.

“Tony!” You yelled at the top of your lungs. “Hanger bay! Now!” You glanced up when you heard Tony fly over to you, straight for Steve and Bucky, who were now running as fast as they could. You saw Sam swoop down in Tony’s blind spot and before you could warn Tony, Sam collapsed his wings and collided with Tony, slide-tackling him away from Steve and Bucky.

“Vision!” You screamed. “Help!” You looked for the red-skinned robot-human thing in the sky and found him floating by the control tower. You looked at the angles. If Vision took down the tower soon, it could trap Steve and Bucky. You skipped to a stop about one hundred feet away from the hangar bay. Steve and Bucky were about thirty feet away. “Take the tower down!” You ordered, pointing at the building. “Take it down! They’re under it!” You hoped that that wasn’t too drastic of a move. They could most likely dodge the debris, but then they would either be trapped in the bay or outside it, unable to get to their getaway jet. You saw Vision shoot a yellow energy beam out from his forehead, slicing the tower in half. The tower crumbled, showering Steve and Bucky with rocks and dust. The two soldiers slowed down slightly, debating on whether to keep going to turn around. But before the whole building could fall, a red energy field wrapped around the tower, suspending it in mid-air. You groaned. Are you kidding me?! You glared at Wanda, who was straining to keep the tower up. Steve and Bucky began to run under the tower. You started sprinting after them. You hoped Wanda could keep the tower up long enough for you to get to the hangar. You two were friends. She wouldn’t let a freaking tower fall on you.

“Tony, let Wanda keep the tower up!” You shouted to Tony, who was still dueling with Sam. “I’m going in!” Steve and Bucky made it under the tower’s path just as you were underneath it. The sudden shift from light to dark made you temporarily blind, but you kept running, knowing your eyes would adjust soon.

“Rhodey!” You heard Tony scream. “Stop! No!” You looked up. Tony never screamed. You heard a weird sound, almost like one of those boards that when you shook it, it made a weird rumbling sound. You looked up. The red field around the tower was gone.

All was black.

Two days later

The doctors had spouted a ton of medical terms, which Peter memorized to monitor your status himself and to pass the time: Your heart was working at a steady rate of 68 bpm. Your coma status wasn’t super great, GCS 5 = E1 V2 M2, meaning you had no eye movement, you mumbled and moaned occasionally, as well as respond to external pain. A score below 8 on the GCS scale meant it was a severe coma. There was no certainty on when, or if, you would wake up. The debris from the tower hit your head hard, and the rest of the damage to your body, from the kick to the cargo box, the blood loss from the scrapes and, obviously, the tower falling on you made your body go into ultimate survival mode. It needed to replenish all the red blood cells, white blood cells, good bacteria, develop scar tissue for your cuts and make cartilage and bone for the hairline fractures that littered your body.

Peter stayed by your side ever since he saw the tower fall and heard Tony scream your name. He also hadn’t slept in nearly two days. He sat beside your hospital bed, chin resting on his crossed hands as he stared at the monitors. Peter hated seeing you like this. You just laid on your back, tubes and apparatuses hooked up to your body. He just wanted to wake up and be better. He hated being in the hospital.

Peter also hated seeing the doctors come in to check on you. They were polite, but he could tell they didn’t care about you as much as he and the other Avengers did. Steve even mailed a get well card and the biggest bouquet of roses and Bucky sent a bear and a box of chocolates when they heard what happened. They’re old-fashioned guys, so they stuck with the classic gifts. Tony booked you at the most advanced brain trauma hospital in the world and agreed to cover any and all costs associated with the accident.

He also managed to pull some strings with General Ross at the Raft to let the other heroes send you things: Sam sent a collection of funny movies and CDs. He said you needed to laugh and be ‘finally have a good taste in music’. Wanda sent natural oils to help relieve tension, muscle aches, and headaches, as well as high-quality tea and honey after you woke up. She said you could have really bad aches everywhere, and you often drank tea when you were stressed. Clint sent you a wood target painted in your favorite color, stating that you needed to work on your aim. Rhodes felt the worst out of all the heroes, especially since he was the one who stunned Wanda, resulting in the tower collapsing on you. Unfortunately, with his recent paralysis, he wasn’t able to afford any elaborate or materialistic gifts. He said he would show his sympathy and apologies with acts of service, like running to the store for you, making you breakfast and getting you anything you needed around the tower. Peter and Tony protested against Rhodes to do all that since he could barely walk. The Air Force guy simply waved them off and said he’ll consider it physical therapy.

Peter couldn’t afford any special gifts either, even with the help of Aunt May. She sent you a small bottle of scented lotion and a handmade get well card with a long, sweet note about how amazing you were. May told Peter not to read it, but he did anyway. He’d spend forty-eight hours in a room with a comatose person, so he did get kind of bored sometimes. Peter managed to scrounge around his bedroom and find his piggy bank and collected all $15.00 of dimes, nickels, and pennies to buy you gift cards for your favorite bookstore and cafe. It was incredibly small compared to the others’ gifts, but it was all he had. He wished he could give you more. You were his Y/N. And you were hurt. He wished he could do more.

You moaned quietly again. Peter felt tears well up in his eyes when you went silent again. You mumbled randomly. At first, Peter thought it was a good thing, thinking you were close to waking up. But the doctors said it was just showing you had a tiny bit of brain activity, enough to produce small sounds. They had no rhyme or reason to them. It was just the brain showing that it kind of worked. Now, the sounds just make his heartbreak. He slid out of the chair to kneel beside your bed. He gripped your cold, dry hand. He stood up and went to the table with all your gifts and grabbed the lotion Aunt May gave you. She said it helps with dry skin. He went back to your bedside and opened the bottle. He squeezed some onto your hand. He stopped when he realized he had no idea how much to put on. He tried to remember if he’d seen May wear any of the stuff. He racked his brain, but couldn’t find any recollection of seeing May apply lotion.

He licked his lips and decided to put some more on. It was better to have too much than not enough, right? He was pleased when the blob of lotion nearly covered the back of your hand. He began to work the goop into your skin. It took longer than he thought to get all the lotion incorporated into your skin, but when he was done, he repeated the process on your other hand and on your feet. He applied three times more lotion on your feet since they were bigger than your hands, and he knew you never let him give you a foot massage when you were awake since you were ticklish. Part of him expected you to wake up shriek at him to stop, your limbs flailing about as you tried to get away from him. He smiled a little at the memory. When he was done with the lotion, half the small bottle was gone. He put it back near the rest of the gifts and returned to his knees by your bedside. He gripped your considerably softer but still cold hand in his own. The scent of the lotion wafted to his nose as he pressed his lips against your hand. Man, that lotion must be really good, Peter thought. His lips were softer after just that one kiss on them. He wiped his other hand across his mouth and sighed.

“Gosh darn it, Y/N,” Peter whispered, looking at your sickly face. It was so pale and damp with sweat. He felt tears fall down his cheeks as he took in a shaky breath. “Just wake up would you?” He couldn’t hold back his sobs anymore as his heart was ripped into piece into piece, gripping your hand tightly in his. “Just wake up, sweetheart.” He panted a little as he braced himself for what he wanted to say next.

“I love you, okay? Y/N, I love you.” He stared at you, that stupid optimistic part of him expecting you to open your eyes and say something like “well duh, Parker. Everyone loves me.” But you didn’t. Your heartbeat didn’t change, your breathing was consistent, and your body remained motionless. He choked on another sob as he buried his head in your side. “Please, wake up, love. Just wake up.”

Three days later

“FIVE DAYS,” You shouted, making your throat and head rip in half. You grunted and coughed incessantly. Apparently not talking for five days made your throat incredibly sensitive. When you recovered, you were met with Peter gripping your hand in his and staring at you with those dumb, adorable and sad puppy dog eyes. “Peter, stop looking at me like that,” You growled. You were getting kind of fed up with all those sad looks he kept giving you. You didn’t mind him being there, you didn’t want a pity party. And you didn’t want to have to fight tears every time you looked at him because he looked like this whole thing was somehow his fault.

“Yeah, five days,” Tony repeated. The billionaire stood at the foot of the hospital bed, leaning nonchalantly against the plastic frame. “Doc says you should be fine in about a month, so - Oh don’t give me that look, Y/N. Yeah, I’m not happy about this either but you need to rest, kid. The more you rest, sooner you can get into the field.” After that, Tony slipped his expensive sunglasses on and strutted out the door. Right before the heavy door closed, you heard a nurse nervously ask for his autograph and Tony’s smooth chuckle as he agreed.

“Peter,” You said, feeling a question rise in your head.

“Yeah, Y/N?” Peter answered, his face showing gentle eagerness. You opened your mouth, but you realized you had no idea what to say. Well, you did, but you couldn’t. You wracked your brain, searching for your question. It was there, but you couldn’t grasp it. You groaned and slammed a sore hand into the mattress, frustrated that you couldn’t even remember a question you wanted to ask.

“Hey hey hey,” Peter said softly, moving from the chair to kneel by your bedside and resting his hand on your knee gently. “It’s okay. Don’t push too hard, okay? You’ll get better. It’ll just take time.”

You sighed and rested your head against the mountain of pillows that supported you. Thankfully, you were healthy enough to not need half the tubes that were connected when you were first admitted. You were a little frazzled, with a brain injury and simply over the whole ordeal. You glanced at Peter, hoping he would have a dumb science joke or something, anything to cheer you up like he always did. When your eyes met, you could tell by the gleam in his teary eyes that he had some new ones for you.

“Did you hear oxygen went on a date with potassium?” Peter asked, fighting a massive grin. You giggled and shook your head, raising a hand to wipe a tear off your cheek.

“Oh well… It was OK,” Peter said before he chuckled, eyes crinkling and smile wide. You couldn’t help but laugh at him. After a few moments of laughter, Peter held up a hand to silence you.

“Okay, word of advice,” He said, looking at you deep in the eyes. You could tell he wasn’t going to make a joke this time, so you refrained from a snarky remark.

“Yeah?” You said, concerned as to why he looked so intensely at you.

“If you’re not part of the solution, you’re part of the precipitate.”

“Oh my gosh, Peter I swear-” You groaned before you let out another bout of laughter. You and Peter laughed so hard your stomachs hurt and tears were streaming down your cheeks. Eventually, you guys calmed down and spent a few moments catching your breath.

“Y/N,” Peter said, scooting from the floor to sitting on the edge of the bed next to you.

“Peter, if you tell me one more lame science joke, I’ll punch you so hard you’ll be next door,” You threatened, a little smirk on your lips. You braced yourself for another corny joke, but one didn’t come. Peter just sat there, staring at you. His eyes were the softest, richest warm brown. His hair was tousled and curled at the ends, not styled at all, like how he normally had it. He was wearing a plain grey t-shirt, not a nerdy science shirt and his navy blue hoodie you always tried to steal. He wore the same jeans, though, the ones with the faded dark wash from wear and the hole in the back right pocket from where he shoved the apartment keys. Not that you took a habit of staring at his backside or anything. You also definitely did not notice how the shirt he was wearing now was more fitted than other shirts he wore, so it hugged his frame quite nicely. And you most definitely were not distracted by his gorgeous figure when you felt his gentle hands tilt your chin upward. Before you could totally register was going on, Peter pressed his lips against yours.

Yes, Peter Parker, aka Spider-Man, was kissing you. And boy, was it good. He shifted his hand from your chin to your cheek, gently kissing you again as he planted his other hand on your other side, towering over you. You kissed him back and traced your fingers up his arm to his neck before gently tangling your fingers in those gorgeous tousles curls of his. Peter let out a little sound and dropped his hand to your waist, pulling you as close as he could to you. How long you two stayed like that, you didn’t know. It could have been three seconds or three minutes, you had no clue.

You finally pulled away to catch your breath. Peter kept his forehead resting on yours, his lips parted as he recovered his breath too, his eyes closed. His hand on your waist slid to the middle of your back, holding you close. He buried his head in your neck and breathed you in, his warm breath tickling you. Suddenly, you remembered something incredibly important.

“Peter” You gasped, pushing away so you could look at him. The boy looked shocked and horrified.

“W-w-what? D-d-did I do something wr-wrong?” He stuttered, eyes wide as saucers. You shook your head and asked your crucial question.

“Why are my hands and feet so greasy?” You asked urgently.

Tag List @resident-book-nerd @animeroses318 @unicornspiderman @bedemoned @hobbitsofmyheart @just—love @superfrankie111 @laura2280 @tmrhollandkay @princeofsassgard @themortallife @143amberrose @silverelvenart @notevenagoodgirl @weasleytheking @theonlyonelives @camila1818 @captainpeggy40 @maraudersgallifreyanavenger

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