Chapter 4:
The eery silence was disturbed by the smashing sounds from behind the door.
Peter closed his eyes with the same shaky weak smile.
"Not a thing." He whispered.
Tony looked down at the floor, hand leaving Peter's cheek. "I'm sorry, kiddo." He said with a heartbroken tone. "I'm going to… Yeah." He sighed and left Peter's bedside for the living room.
After a few minutes of silence, maybe more, is time perception different when blind? Peter pondered.
"Wade?" He asked the uncharacteristically quiet merc.
When Peter received no response, he questioned again, "DP?"
Although Peter was beyond sleepy and heavily drugged, he knew Wade was sitting right there next to his bed. The younger man could hear Wade's quickened breathing and smell the scent that was undoubtedly his.
[I don't think we've ever seen the merc with the mouth go nonverbal.]
Wade inaudibly grunted, but Peter's enhanced hearing picked it up. He stretched his arm, his hand hovering past the hospital bed.
Wade looked down at the stretched out hand and the wiggling fingers.
{Aww! Spidey wants to hold hands! He's so romantic.}
When Wade hesitantly put his trembling hand in Peter's palm, the younger let out a sigh. "For a second there, I thought I finally managed to break you." Peter tried to joke, lightly squeezing Wade's hand. "Not that I don't appreciate the creepy silence." He deadpanned, moving his head towards Wade and opening his eyes to look at him.
But he couldn't anymore.
Now, Wade could see how vacant Peter's stare was, how he looked right past him. The beautiful blue eyes Wade adored so much, now so unfocused and hollow looking. Where Peter used to look at Deadpool so intensely, studying his expressive mask, now set an empty look.
At that thought, Wade let out an unintentional whimper.
[At least now Peter won't ever see your morbidly grotesque mug. You should be thankful, really.]
{Yeah, everyone knows you always secretly wanted for Petey to unmask you, loving you nonetheless, but let's be honest, you are the ugliest thing in the Marvel universe, nobody will ever want you.}
[Don't you just hate these unrealistic fanfics, though? Readers fapping to the same scene where Peter takes Wade's mask off, cup's his face and tells him he doesn't care, then kiss' him. Over and over again.]
{They totally get off on that unrealistically romantic bullcrap. We are waaaay too ugly to have that, hehe.}
Peter started stroking Wade's gloved hand, fingers following the thick seams. "Thanks for being here." Peter sighed. "You don't have to stay, I'm going to pass out soon. So tired." He said.
No problemo, baby boy. Wade wanted to say, but currently, his brain couldn't manage to send the right signals to it's verbal area in order to form words.
…
When Peter woke up, he wasn't surprised to find himself alone. "Jarvis?" Peter inquired.
"Yes, Mr. Parker?" The robotic voice answered, causing Peter's headache to intensify.
Peter assumed Bruce has come in and lowered his pain killers' dosage, causing his entire body to feel an immense amount of discomfort, shooting from every which direction. Peter could feel every single stitch he had, skin feeling too tight against his sore muscles. His Spidey sense was going utterly berserk, not being able to get a coherent status of the area.
"When did Wade leave?" He asked the AI.
"Mr. Wilson left three and a half hours ago." Jarvis replied.
"Oh. When did I fall asleep?" Peter asked.
"Four hours and twenty seven minutes ago."
"Ok. Thank you, Jarvis." Peter said, as he pushed himself up to a sitting position on his bed, which now felt like the most uncomfortable piece of furniture he had ever laid on. Peter's back was extremely stiff from lying motionlessly for so long, and so he slowly stretched it, cracking a few vertebras into place.
"I will recommend to avoid moving, as to Dr. Banner's instructions, Mr. Parker." Jarvis voiced.
Peter moved a useless glare up to the ceiling, remembering his eyes are indeed open and that the previous night really did happen. He remembered the events leading to him laying on a hospital bed at the Avengers' tower. Blind.
There was an explosion, he vaguely remembered. Peter couldn't really feel any pain since he was instantly unconscious, but judging by his pain, he got injured pretty significantly.
Pretty significantly, he chuckled sadly, tears starting to fall down his cheeks. I can't see.
Since the beginning, Peter always assumed Spiderman will somehow be the end of him, he was okay with that. He knew that while he saved lives, his was always on the line. Even though his Spidey sense always helped him to avoid too bad of an injury, he knew that there was a chance of him not escaping the following round of bullets or not surviving a knife wound.
Peter, in all of his nightmares, never thought of the possibility of being blind, or having any kind of disability, really. This was a terrifying new area.
Ignoring the advice, Peter shook his body a little to determine whether he had wires attached to him, other than the IV he could feel in his left forearm. With that little move, Peter could feel every single little cut and wound he had, pulsing with pain.
He felt thin wires sticking out of his chest and head, heart and brain activity monitoring, he assumed.
Peeling off the sticky wires off of him, he let them fall to the ground and took a deep breath. Now to remove this IV.
Feeling the drip's thin tubing that disappeared inside of him, Peter shuddered as he got ready to remove it.
"I will advise against doing that." Jarvis said with a too humanly sounding voice, for Peter's liking.
Quickly, Peter pulled the IV and grabbed the thin blanket he was covered in and pushed it against his veins, folding his arm. He could smell the faint scent of blood, but after a few minutes, Peter let go of the fabric and ghosted his fingers over the small puncture. All closed up, he thought with a smile.
Standing up slowly and cautiously, Peter felt dizziness taking over, so he sat back down on the bed.
"Hey, Jarvis, where can I get clothes?" He asked, hopefully there will be clothes close by, since he didn't really fancy the Avengers seeing him stark naked.
"There are a pair of sweatpants on the corner table to your left."
Ok. I can do this. He said to himself, more so to try and calm his Spidey sense that was going mental in his head, every step he was getting warnings that he was getting attacked from every which direction.
Balancing himself on the wall behind the bed's headboard, Peter walked toward the corner of the room.
"Mr. Parker, there is a large chair right-"
"Goddammit!" Peter hissed as he bumped his elbow on the chair's hard back. "What time is it?" He asked, aggravated.
"It's almost five am, sir." Jarvis answered.
"Ok. Any more obstacles ahead?" Peter snapped, voice trembling. This situation was nearing the end of his mental capacity, nearing his breaking point.
"No Mr. Parker, the table, on which the pants are laying on, is three feet away."
Taking a few more steps, hand on the wall, guiding him towards to table, Peter's hips met a hard object. Feeling the surface of the table, Peter snatched the soft fabric as soon as his sticky palm made contact with it. Unfolding them, Peter felt for the tag, to avoid the embarrassment of wearing said pants backwards.
Peter leaned against the table, after pulling the sweatpants on, and thought of his next actions.
Scooting backwards, sitting on the table, Peter positioned his hand so that his palm faced the opposite corner and shot a thin silk thread, which instantly attached itself to said corner, not bumping into any objects. Peter stuck his end of the thread to the corner and strum it gently, estimating the size of the room. Peter proceeded to web the entire room with his silk.
When he felt the coverage was sufficient, in order for him to be alarmed of any visitors, Peter climbed on the wall up the corner of it, to the ceiling, and made himself a hammock to lie in. As soon as Peter sat down on it, the hammock was connected to the intricate web work with more silk.
Lying down, Peter's Spidey sense calmed slightly, now only buzzing in the back of his head. He curled into himself, arms beneath his head, tears streaming down his face.
I can't work anymore, I can't take photos, can't be Spiderman. Everything I ever loved doing, I can't anymore. This sucks.
Peter fell asleep, crying.
…
In the next couple of weeks, Peter learned how to live with his blindness, got used to not being able to see. It was extremely hard at first, Peter laid in his cocoon all day, refusing to go down. He would crawl on the ceiling to go to the bathroom to use the restroom and shower, only to quickly return to his safe place. No one could really get physically near him, as his web work spread throughout the room.
After a week in the infirmary unit, he was moved, very much against his will, to a different room in the same storey as was Clint's. The new room was significantly smaller and warmer, there was a thick carpet and a soft bed. Though, Peter felt safer sleeping in his tiny hammock, most nights. He covered his new room with his webs and kept the door locked for the better part of the day.
On the one hand, he was angry at the Avengers, for forcing him to stay in the tower under their watch, but on the other, he appreciated the gesture. It's not that someone was waiting for him in his little apartment. So, Clint went to his apartment and brought him clothes, shoes, his cellular phone and his laptop.
Peter spent his days listening to music and working out on the ceiling, not feeling safe enough on the floor. Almost every day Clint and Peter will spend a few hours hanging out, when the Avengers weren't out for a mission, or when Hawk Eye opted out of it.
Over the time, Peter learned to differentiate between the variant rhythms of walk each of the Avengers had. Each a different step pattern he could decipher when nearing the closed door of his room.
In time, Peter noticed things he never did, like the fact that each of them had a very distinctive scent. He learned Tony had a too musky of a cologne scent, always overwhelming Peter's sense of smell when he tried to enter Peter's room to talk with him about his various projects at SI; Bruce always smelt fresh and clean to Peter, he wondered whether the other guy's smell was the same; Cap, weirdly enough, always smelt like sweet coconut to Peter, probably his shampoo. Peter hated coconut and said scent made him a bit nauseas, to be honest, although he will never say it out loud to Steve, the latter always tried to make Peter feel better; Clint sometimes smelt woody and sometimes more fruity, which was a nice smell, so Peter didn't mind when the archer spent time in his room, eating together, mostly; Even though the ex-assassin never really got too close to Peter, Natasha smelt like nothing at all to him, completely odorless, which was creepy considering her footsteps were almost inaudible, even with his enhanced hearing. She was nearly undetectable; Thor left earth the morning after Peter had woken up, so he wasn't too aware of his scent nor his walk pattern. There was only one scent Peter missed, though, Wade's.
Since the pair spent so much time over the years, Peter pretty much knew all of Wade's quirks, he could almost feel the merc's presence when close. Honestly, the merc wouldn't leave Peter's side at all, if it was up to him. He sometimes spent days at Peter's, crashing on his sofa, playing video games when Peter was at work. Wade would go out on jobs a few times a month, sometimes for weeks, but they never lost contact, talking on the phone or playing virtually against each other in online video games.
So, the fact Wade disappears into the night without a trace, without saying goodbye, was unnerving. His logical reasoning told him that Wade got away because he just couldn't handle Peter's condition, because he was shocked, but something in the back of his mind kept whispering that he didn't need the burden of Peter, that he was broken beyond repair and that the merc didn't want him anymore, as a friend or more. Peter knew Spiderman was Deadpool's hero, he knew the merc adored his Spidey, so maybe now that Peter was yet again his normal, now damaged, self, Wade didn't care. Peter felt terrible, yet the only person he wanted to talk to, had ran away from him. He felt unwanted and hurt.
One night, while eating pizza with Clint, the archer said "So, it's been a few weeks… Where do you think Wade is?"
Peter shrugged, not knowing if Clint saw him, he added after a moment "I don't know."
Looking at Peter's face, studying him, Clint could see the hurt that went through Peter the moment he mentioned the merc. "He didn't try to contact you yet?"
Peter shook his head in response. He knew the others talked about Wade's disappearance. They probably assumed Wade will take him out of their hands, somehow, Peter guessed. Knowing Deadpool, no one was surprised by his act, but the fact he just left Peter without contact for this long was bewildering. They were practically inseparable beforehand.
"So he just bailed in the middle of the night." Clint said with evident disgust in his voice. "Cowered." He huffed before taking another bite of his pizza slice.
Peter remained quiet.
"Wolverine is coming tomorrow with the student Cap was talkin' 'bout." Clint reminded.
For the past month or so, the Avengers tried to treat Peter, but the twenty three year old refused any invasive procedures. So, the team called in different humans, mutants and externals in order to help him regain his sight. From magicians and wizards to mutants with different healing abilities, even the great Doctor Strange tried to heal him, but failed.
"Who is she, again?" Peter questioned.
"Her name is Freddie, twenty years old, capable of controlling the biological structure of any organic matter. Besides healing, she was trained by a sorcerer in magic. She's under the wing of the X-Man since she killed said sorcerer."
"Why'd she kill him?" Peter asked, a bit unnerved by the fact that a killer is supposed to try and heal him.
Shrugging, Clint said "No idea, kid."
Letting out a sigh, Peter said "Fantastic."
Standing up, Clint took the empty pizza box and trash in his hands and headed for the door. "Get some sleep, it's almost two a.m." He said as he cautiously stepped over silky threads.
"Yeah, yeah." Peter said as Clint left, door closing loudly behind him.
Peter crawled up to the ceiling from his place on the floor by the bed, webbed the door shot and crawled to the bathroom.
After washing his hands and face, he got back to his little room. Deciding to sleep tonight on the bed, since it was getting chilly, Peter got beneath the covers and snuggled on himself in a little ball.
…
The next morning, Peter was startled awake by loud banging on his door and an agitated sounding Tony Stark, "Hey! Bug boy! Wake the fuck up!"
"What do you want?!" Peter yelled back, voice rough from sleep.
"You have company!"
Groggily, Peter thought it might be Wade. Oh, shit, the healer X girl, right! "Out in a moment!" The younger man said as he rushed to his bathroom to quickly brush his teeth.
At the sink, after spitting out the last remains of toothpaste from his mouth, Peter stood and stretched his wet hand to touch the cold mirror in front of him. Maybe this will work? He tried to keep himself positive, even though every attempt of healing him has failed, so far. Everything's gonna be fine! Worst case scenario, still blind, best case, gonna finally shave this mess on my face. Peter thought, scratching his partial facial hair.
Hearing a loud knock and Tony yelling Peter's name, he got quickly out the bathroom and jumped on the thin threads for the door, ripping the silk that holds the door shut with his super strength.
Opening the door slightly, Peter was met with Tony's harsh cologne smell, attacking his nostrils. "You should ease up on the man smell, dude." He said.
"Mind your own business." Tony snarled back. "Logan and his umm… Healer? Is here." Tony said.
"My name is Freddie, I just told you." The short teen standing beside Wolverine said.
"Whatever." Tony tried to dismiss confidently, actually feeling embarrassed.
Freddie peeked from behind Tony, looking at the disheveled man standing at the door. "That's a weird décor." The dark skinned girl pointed out, referring to the webs. "Erm, was that unthoughtful?" She whispered quiet loudly, leaning towards Logan's ear "'Cause he can't see?"
After a couple moments of awkward silence and no reply from Wolverine, she realized "Omg, you're Spiderman, right?!" She said with a huge grin on her face, her arms moving giddily, causing her various bracelets to chime.
"Umm…" Peter struggled for words.
Freddie moved to push Tony aside, earning a nasty look from the billionaire, probably offending his ego by pushing him so easily away. Logan chuckled lowly.
"I'm Freddie." She said.
Hesitantly, Peter responded, opening the door fully. "Peter."
"Nice to meet you." She beamed.
"Ditto."
Logan cleared his throat and said "I'm going to pick you up in the evening."
"Fine." Freddie said, shooing the grumpy man with a hand gesture, without taking her eyes away from Peter, thinking his eyes were the prettiest shade of baby blue she'd ever seen.
Peter could hear Wolverine walking off towards the elevator. Gazing towards where Freddie's voice came from, he asked awkwardly "Do you want to join me in breakfast?" As Peter finished his question, he could hear Clint's bedroom door opening.
"Nope." She quipped. "Just ate… Thanks, though." Freddie smiled, bouncing lightly on the heels of her feet.
"Have fun, you two." Tony said as he backed away. Even if this won't work, at least Peter will stop sulking in his room all day long and would actually interact with someone but Clint. Thinking of, Tony greeted "Morning."
"Morning. Is that the healer?" Clint asked quietly.
Stopping beside Clint, Tony confirmed with a nod.
"Hmm…" Clint thought for a moment, "Didn't think she'll look like that." He said.
"Yeah. Good think Peter can't see, otherwise he'll freak." Tony grimaced at her.
Clint only glared at him.
"Bad use of words?" He tried.
Rolling his eyes, Clint looked at the pair in front of him. Peter's hair looked as disheveled as ever, sticking at different angles, he was wearing the same shirt and sweatpants he wore last night after he showered and they ate pizza together, which was still smeared on his shirt and pants in various places. The dark skinned girl next to him wore all black clothing, black off the shoulder baggy blouse, skinny jeans and combat boots. Her arms were littered with black tattoos, and bracelets, some of which dark brown and leather, her knuckles were decorated with different rings, she had a few long necklaces, disappearing into her shirt and a nose ring. Upon further inspection, Clint still wasn't sure if she had makeup above her left brow, or was it tattoos? Either way, she looked unusual. She was quite the beautiful girl, but with her long dreads, she straight out looked like a few voodoo witches Clint had the misfortune to meet about a decade ago.
Snapping out of his thoughts, Clint realized Tony had left their floor, leaving the three alone. Putting his happy face on, he walked to the pair by Peter's bedroom and greeted them. "Good morning, Peter. Freddie, I assume?" He shined his best smile.
"Yeah, hi." She said, examining the blonde man in front of her.
Extending his hand, Clint introduced himself "Clint Barton."
"I know who you are." She said, not meeting Clint for the handshake.
Ignoring the girl's attitude, Clint didn't break his demeanor when putting down his extended hand, still looking at Freddie, he proposed "Hey Pete, want me to fetch you cereal and bring 'em to your room?"
Smiling, Peter said "That'd be great, thank you." He was relieved not getting out of his familiar room.
For the past few weeks Peter passed on that floor, he rarely came out of his room. He was, quite honestly, grateful for the archer's help.
Taking a step inside his room, Peter said "Follow me."
"Are you sure? I don't think I'll manage without messing your… Décor." She snickered.
Eying the situation as he moved towards the kitchen area, Clint thought she sure does seem to feel comfortable around here.
"I'll fix it later, if you'll mess it up. Be careful not to fall, though. The silk only looks fragile." Peter walked to the swivel chair beside the desk, stroking a thin finger up a thread of web. "You may sit on the armchair." He said, pointing towards it.
"I know. I saw you swing on it on TV." She said, stepping cautiously over the webbing. "Can you control it's width?" She asked as she stroked a thread with her own index finger. It was quite sticky but still smooth. From this distance, she could see it's beautiful pearlescent sheen.
"Yup." Peter said as he sat down on his seat by the desk. Freddie sat down a few feet away from him. "So how are we going to do this?" Peter asked awkwardly. The whole procedure was always weird for him, the people who tried to heal him usually had to touch him all over, which was something he wasn't comfortable with, especially since he couldn't see what's going on, so his Spidey sense tingled violently and he had to keep himself calm and at still.
"You can do whatever, just stay near me. It would be preferable if you'd lie down, relax and avoid moving or making sounds, so that I could concentrate, since it's not an easy fix like a broken ankle." Freddie said.
Looking down, thinking, Peter voiced "Oh."
"No groping." She clarified with a knowing smirk. Thinking, I wouldn't mind, though. Groping Spiderman.
"Oh. Okay." He smiled, feeling embarrassed.
"Did the previous healers usually touched you? I heard from Logan that a lot of people tried to heal you without any success."
"Yeah… It was kinda really weird having some strangers' hands on your head for hours at a time." Peter said honestly, rubbing the back of his neck.
"I could imagine." She said just as Clint walked inside the room.
"Hey kiddos, you're cool?" He asked as he moved to hand Peter his cornflakes bowl.
"I'm not a kid." The both of them said in unison, followed by laughter.
Rolling his eyes, Clint said "Yeah, right." as he sat down next to Peter, on his bed. "So when's the show starting?" He asked.
"When I'm done eating, I think." Peter said.
"Yeah." Freddie grinned towards Clint, who was sending her weird looks.
"Okay." Clint said, placing his hand on Peter's shoulder, which twitched away from him instantly. "Sorry." He apologized, removing his hand. "Do you need me in here?" He asked genuinely.
Swallowing his mouthful of cereal, Peter said "No, thanks."
"Okay. Nat and I are leaving tonight on a mission, you think you'd survive without me for a few days?"
Dread spread through him, though Peter smiled lightly, saying "I'll manage." However, Peter was pretty uncomfortable being completely alone on their floor. He knew Jarvis could assist him, or any of the Avengers for that matter, but usually, when Clint left for a mission with or without the Avengers, he'd just wait until Clint came back to eat with him, rarely did he leave their level to join the other residents of the tower, even though Tony had given Peter the most technologically advanced walking cane to help him move around.
"Sure thing." Clint smiled toward the oblivious younger man, "I'm off to talk with Nat about all the details." He said as he stood up. "Have fun."
…
When Peter finished eating, he put his empty bowl and spoon on the desk, grabbed his IPhone for music, and don't let him start complaining about using a touch phone whilst being probably permanently blind, and settled on the bed. He ended up falling asleep later, only to be awaken by Clint, when he entered Peter's room and started talkin to him, assuming he just closed his eyes.
Clint told him that he and Natasha are leaving and that there is spaghetti in the fridge for him to heat up, courtesy of Bruce. After an hour or so, Peter's belly roared into life, which resulted in a startled Freddie. They ended up eating said dish in front of the living room's TV.
When they were done, the pair returned to Peter's room and resumed their previous positions. After a few hours, Freddie broke the silence in the room. "Hey? You awake?"
"Yup." Peter said, opening his eyes.
"Yeah… Umm, I don't know, Peter. I keep trying to scan your brain, even eyes, but I just cannot find anything wrong. Everything seems to be okay, biologically speaking, which doesn't make any sense. I don't know what to say to you." Freddie said, sounding annoyed by the fact that she can't seem to detect anything out of the ordinary.
Sighing, Peter said "It's fine, I wasn't that optimistic to begin with." He chuckled sadly.
Thinking silently for a few moments, Freddie said "If you won't mind, I'd like to stay here for a few days. Maybe? I'll try to figure it out…"
"You're willing to do that?" Peter asked, baffled as to why this girl would want to waste her time on him, when it's obvious his blindness is incurable, which Peter sadly learned to live with.
"Sure. I mean… It's not like I've got something else to do." She shrugged. "I'm basically the X-men's prisoner… Which heals them when needed. They don't seem to think I can function in society by myself." She said bitterly.
"How come?" Peter asked.
"I don't really…"
"Oh. Sorry, I didn't mean to pry."
"I just get real bad panic attacks, sometimes. No biggie. I'm gonna call Wolverine and explain the situation, 'kay?"
Peter nodded, he could hear Freddie's fingers tapping against her phone.
"Hey Jimmy. Would you guys mind if I'd stay here in the tower for a few days?" She asked, clearly speaking to her phone. "I couldn't… Yeah." She said quietly. "This is ridiculous, I literally never met someone I couldn't heal." She grumbled. "I'll be good." "Fine." "Okaaay." "Logan?" "Bye!" She snapped at her phone.
"All good." Freddie said, way too sweetly to be authentic.
Peter snickered "I heard."
"Yeah, he's annoying, sometimes."
…
Before Freddie settled in the extra guest room on Clint's and his floor, she left for a few hours for the X-Mansion in order to fetch clothing and essentials for the next few days.
During those days Peter got used to lying in his hammock or on his bed for hours at a time, listening to music or radio shows, while Freddie sat in various places and positions in his room, in what appeared to be a meditative state.
When they weren't in a healing session, they'd talk about their lives to each other, getting to know one another.
Peter told Freddie how he got bit by a spider and she told him how she first healed her cat from cancer when she was four years old, and how she kept him alive for an extra decade.
Some other times, they'd watch television together, or listen to music.
After a few more days, Clint had returned, bruised and hurt. His clavicle was pretty much shattered.
Freddie, in turn, showed her true powers, healing him completely in a matter of minutes.
After a week and a half of countless sessions, Freddie spoke to Peter for the first time in hours "I don't know what to do anymore. I feel like I know your brain inside out by now. I'm so sorry… I don't think I can heal you…" she said brokenly, sitting up on Peter's bed, looking at him as he sat on the floor, playing with his shirt's hem out of boredom. "Like… There is so much I can heal in your body… You have a stupid amount of locked powers, hiding in the darkest places of your body, locked genes… I can even technically heal your fucking dimples." She said, sounding completely helpless. "I'm so fucking sorry Pete."
"It's fine… Not my first rodeo." Peter said sadly. Although it wasn't his first, it sure did hurt like it.
"I'm going to hug you now." She said as she moved toward Peter, where he was sitting on the floor, leaning against the bed.
"Umm, I'm fine." He said.
Grabbing his shoulders to face her, she said, "I'm not." And hugged him tightly.
Peter, encircling his arms around her, stroking her back, said "It's okay." Being this close, Peter decided he liked his new friend's scent a lot. Not too sweet of a fruity scent, coming off of her dreads in waves when she moved.
As they were hugging, Peter realized just how petite Freddie was.
Moving her head back, she looked at Peter's eyes, saying, "I'm so fucking sorry. You're such a good person, you don't deserve this one bit. I really thought I could heal you. This sucks balls."
Peter quirked a phony smile while saying in faux confidence "I know. I'm fine, though." He tried to reassure her of the normality of the situation, trying to calm her down. "One of the risks of playing a hero, ya know."
"I should leave." She said as she unlocked her arms from around Peter.
As she moved away from him, Peter said "You can stay here… If you don't have anything else to do… It's pretty lonely up in here." He proposed hopefully.
"I can't just… Stay here… Wouldn't Stark mind?" She asked. Honestly speaking, she didn't really care of what the billionaire would say or think, she just wanted to give Peter an out, in case he just wanted to be nice to her, since he was obviously too nice for his own good, sometimes.
"Having a healer who can heal the Avengers without any medical procedure? Yeahhh… I think he won't mind very much." Peter chuckled.
"Right." She said while playing with a long dread, thinking.
"So?"
"I'm going to be Spiderman's roommate." She said, to herself mainly.
Peter's mouth twitched down as he said "Not really Spiderman anymore."
"For now." She provided. Freddie still had hope and will continue to attempt to heal him while at the tower.
Rolling his eyes, Peter just said "Sure."