A Bond is Committed
Peter has a thing for making you smile. It’s not that you don’t smile all the time, but his favorite expression of yours is your surprised smile, eyes wide with shock before glee forces your lips to spread wide, showing off your teeth. And you could never help it, either. Peter is sweet in an offbeat way, and always pestering you when he can get away with it. You thrive under his attention and affection, whether it’s remembering how you like your tea to nearly spilling all of it when he blurs out of focus and appears by your side, tea droplets all over the ground. Peter is wonderful, honestly. There is nothing horrible you could ever think of him.
You just wished you could see him all the time, every day. And as often as he slips in and out of time and your room and your bed, he can’t be with you however much you want. He lives on the opposite coast, has a life there, friends, school, and figuring out how he wants to fit into the world before him. His life is complicated and intense, his powers aiding him and being a curse all at once. He is good to you, almost too good, and you often feel guilty for wanting more of him. With your bond still fresh, you can sense him in a heartbeat over the miles separating you, and you write to each other constantly, sleeves pulled up in the back of class until late into the night.
Your parents are still fighting, still not getting along, with the bad feelings souring and escalating to yelling matches followed by colder days, quieter days, silent months. You feel worse when Peter scribbles out a message of worry into your connected skin because he can feel your sadness over the bond, slipping into him like a river emptying into a lake. You don’t want him to worry. It just makes you feel worse because he has so many other things to worry about. He’s special, and you? You’re nothing but a human with human problems, human worries that are so small in comparison that you don’t want it to capture his time. But it doesn’t seem to matter to the silver haired boy with mischief in his eyes; he is, quite literally, at your beck and call without you even needing to say a word. Peter is always attentive that way. It’s almost scary, how much he makes you feel, how devoted he is to you and your happiness.
“(y/n)? Did you hear me?” You tune in to the current conversation with your mother, eyes gazing at her face and the sad lines peeling away at her youth like the falling petals of a dying rose. She looks so sad- so depressed, and it hurts to see someone so strong so weak instead. Your father had departed on a business trip two days earlier and before that, your parents hadn’t spoken a word to each other, shifting around each other like two same sides of a magnet. You reigned in the sorrow deep in your gut and tried to put on a smile for her sake, for both your sakes. Your family is crumbling before your eyes and you aren’t sure if there is anything that you can do.
“Sorry mom,” You murmur, blinking hard, “What were you saying?” Your mother nibbles at her lower lip and stares past you, her eyes clouded with what looked like bad memories.
“I said.. If you had to choose, who would you like to live with? Me? Or your dad- I know that… it’s been bad. I’m sorry that we have to put you in this position, (y/n), but I don’t think I can do this anymore… that we can do this anymore. I won’t try to win you over with money and gifts. All I can do is promise you that wherever you want to go… we can try and go. I know how much you loved Paris and Tokyo.” But you had loved those places when it was the three of you together, visiting the Louvre and Tokyo with you in the middle. Living in either place now would only bring back sweet memories to torment you.
Peter always knows.
When he finds you in your room with inky tears trickling down your made up face, his arms find their way around you in a mere breath and he’s crushing you so tight to his chest that you can’t breathe. And you adore him for it, for being able to wordlessly shelter you and shoulder some of your aches and pains. You didn’t have to tell him about your life imploding when he could feel it screaming at him over the bond. You couldn’t hide how much it ate you up inside either. But he was there, he was always there, keeping your cracked up pieces from falling into nothingness. But sometimes- even then- you just-
Maybe he would be better off without me. Maybe we’ll end up just like my parents, miserable and exhausted from all the fighting.
You blocked off his emotional connection to you in those moments, fearing he’d be hurt by your sudden doubt in yourself and your relationship. Peter is good to you, the best to you; he never pushes you beyond your limits or asks for more than you can give. Your parents still know nothing of him and he understands that now isn’t the time to bring up the bond you’ve always have while you’re watching one you thought would be timeless now falling into shambles. It would be too much, far too much. And for all of his wonderful actions, deep down in your gut, you are so damn afraid of one day waking up and not being able to feel him over the strong connection the two of you share. If he left- you couldn’t even fathom it.
Everyone at this school is talking about your family, about the crumbling of a True Bond. Your teachers give you pitiful, sympathetic looks while the students are more vocal about how awful you must be feeling which only adds on to how awful you do feel. It is the talk of the town, the gossip on everyone’s lips and they just won’t give it a rest. This is the first time any school has taken real interest in you but it is also the first school that you want to leave as soon as possible. People are either too scared to get close for fear of even a single touch ruining their own chances of finding their True Bond, ridiculing you under their breath and questioning if you even have a Bonded, or asking you so many questions that it leaves you choking for a free breath. You draw across your arm in the bathroom stalls, cry quietly into your palms as Peter tries his best to quell your ravaging pain. You stop him from coming to see you, tell him no, you don’t want him to see you like this, and he obeys because it’s just the way Peter is when it comes to you. You’re the only one he willingly listens to without asking why or questioning you. It’s the kind of trust that keeps you tied together, but barely. You just want everything to stop and pause for a while so that you could be alone.
It’s astounding that a year ago, things were different. Less fights, more smiles, more nights all spent together watching a silly movie or going to some stupid play because your mother is a sap for tragedies and your father likes to collect ticket stubs. It’s almost been a year, nine months of battling, biting words meant to tear. Are they even still Bondeds? Are they? Sometimes you can’t tell. They had begun working on separate schedules to spend as much time apart as possible. Sometimes you could see a twinge in your Father’s left side and your mother cried herself to sleep the first week he went on a business trip to Jordan without her, without needing her to be there with him. It was like the ending of a business company, the fall of a merger. They won’t talk to you about it, not really, not about what went wrong. You sometimes think maybe one of them, you aren’t sure which one, just gave up, stopped trying. Maybe someone cheated- maybe you have a half sibling somewhere else in the world and one of them happened to find out the other’s secret. Or maybe they had just used up all of the love they had on you and now there was no more love to give to each other.
It’s been weeks since Peter had last seen you and you were a mess of baggy clothes and tear stained cheeks. You’d lost weight, gotten thinner and resembled a mouse, quiet in school and quieter at home. You found isolation more comfortable, didn’t do much but study language in your room and ignore phone calls. Your parents began to notice your behavior, but with more problems arising in the mutant community, your parents are needed for damage control and you are left all alone. You curl up under covers and close your eyes after another draining day of school, stroking over your arm before doodling tiny hearts for Peter to see. The sensation jolting up your arm is instantaneous, and you open your eyes to peer at your arm. Peter’s voice always reaches you through the messages, and it brings you quick relief.
I really miss you, (y/n). Are you alright? Can I see you soon? I get the feeling that you aren’t okay and it’s hard to function when I just want to be with you and around you and I want-
He cuts himself off for fear of upsetting you and pushing you away further. You only feel worse.
I’m sorry for making you worry.. It’s just been really hard right now and I know that you have so much going on. I don’t want to put this on you. You scribble back and reach up to rub at your eyes.
The sensation against your arm feels wonderful, and you look at the message unfurling on your skin.
We’re in this together, aren’t we? Let me come see you and I promise I can have you laughing in two seconds. How about it?
He’s right, but you are a mess right now, physically and emotionally. You still weren’t ready to pick yourself back up just yet. He could wait a little longer… right?
Not yet. Just give me a little longer, okay? I adore you.
You feel guilt pour over you like cold water but Peter must know because he instantly makes you feel better over the distance.
And I adore you. Just get some rest and you better be eating, too, (y/n). I’ll be able to tell the difference. Let me know when you want me there and I’m there.
There’s this unspoken breath of ‘I love you’ that passes through you and makes your body shake. You sigh at having to deny him yet again, and only to be met with his resilience and understanding just proves that he is as wonderful as you think he is in your mind. Jesus, he deserves the sun and the stars and a Bonded who can deal with things better than alienating him and everyone around her. He deserves someone strong, maybe another mutant who could keep on par with him. You shake your head and sigh, forcing yourself up to eat something before you lose anymore inches. It takes you quite a while to actually leave your room, feeling the emptiness of the house with each step. Your father is there, with nothing to take care of, but with your mother gone, there is no fighting, but there is also no emotion at all. He’s sitting on the couch staring blankly at an infomercial with the remote next to his tapping hand, his shoulders slumped and hair unkempt. You knew the feeling all too well. You meager by the entrance into the living room but turn and head into the kitchen instead. You aren’t hungry, but it wouldn’t hurt to eat something before you spent the rest of the day ‘fasting.’ You look in the fridge for something and feel a little tug at your chest. There’s homemade lasagna, the kind your dad used to make all the time, and you can tell he’d barely had any of it. Handling the platter as if it were precious cargo, you unload it onto the counter and grab a smaller plate, taking a larger portion than necessary because just the smell alone has you salivating. You hum a little tune as you prepare the lasagna for consumption, placing it back into the fridge which catches your dad’s attention.
“(y/n)?” He calls softly, just to check, and you answer as you search around the drawers for a fork. It’s been a couple months since the move in but you were never good with reorienting yourself to a house.
“Yeah, dad?” You call as you grab for two forks instead of one. Maybe he’d want to share, too. Ever since the fighting began, you’d constantly felt pulled between your parents and about who to choose. After your mother brought up the possibility of a real separation, you were even more worried and confused about what to do and who to live with in the event that it really happened. Your father had been much more busy than your mother, and this was really the first time he’d taken time off. You decided that spending some time with him wouldn’t hurt, especially since you’d missed him a lot.
“Want to come watch some tv with me?” He called as you shuffled into the kitchen entrance, smiling at the invitation.
“Sure.”
Without your mother there, you and your father indulged in the worst, low budget horror film you could find. Your mother always grew terrified even when the premise was bad and the actors were worse than the bloody scenes. But you both laughed hard at the tripping scene and the scary ghoul and the girl who died but could still be seen breathing in the close up. Sharing the plate of lasagna, it almost felt like a long time ago, when you’d do something fun like this at least twice a week, your mother flinching and whining about the film choice almost every time. As the movie winded done, you turned to your dad with a little smile. He glanced back at you and reached to pat your head.
“Missed you, kiddo.” He grumbled with a smile of his own.
“Have….. Have you talked to mom?” You tried, grimacing at how his face distorted with pain.
“She doesn’t have any cell reception in the area. I’ll try again tomorrow.”
“Dad.” You sound so disappointed and hurt because you are. How is he supposed to win her back without trying? Really trying?
“Honey-”
“C-Can’t… can’t you try harder, dad?” You ask quietly, finally voicing the thoughts that had been plaguing you for months. You just want to see them happy again. Your mother is away on a business trip, had been gone for nearly a week, and it burned you to see her so happy to leave that house, to leave you and your father. You watch your dad drop his mask, see the tired lines across his face and the prominent bags and he just looks so aged, so unhappy. It shoots at you again and again to see him so down. It was obvious that they still loved each other and cared for each other or else they wouldn’t still be here in the same house occupying the same space- but where did the love go? Where?
“(y/n)... It’s not that easy. I love your mother- since we were kids and I knew that from the moment I saw her- everything inside of me just knew that she was going to be everything to me… We did everything together, planned everything together… and now, I just- baby, I don’t know how to reach her. I don’t know how to be what she needs or even wants at this point. Every time we speak, it’s like I’m talking to a brick wall and I can’t feel her anymore. Her name has grown fainter on my skin-” He stops, the pained expression making tears bubble to the surface again in the past day, and you scoot across the couch from where you sit to toss your arms around him. Your father, in the past, had been so very cheerful, the life of the house, always playing jokes and tricks on your mother for a playful berating and kisses in the kitchen. For a long time, the three of you traveled the world without a hitch, and you had always hating leaving again and again, but with them? How could you not be happy in the end?
He’s being open with his feelings and all you wish is that your mother was here to hear everything coming out of his mouth. Your father hugs you close and sighs lightly against the top of your head, mouth dragging down into a sad frown.
“You know, I was seven when her name showed up. I don’t think she’s ever told you, but she couldn’t stand me. I was such a little shit back then. I’d leave flowers at her door but put bugs in her hair just for a laugh. And once she kicked me so hard, I fell and broke my foot. And let’s just say, her feeling bad did come to my advantage.” You snort loudly as you snuggle in close, giggling over the image of a young boy bothering a girl into kicking him and the anguish on his face at breaking his leg and milking the situation for all it was worth.
“And everything just fell into my hands after that. Her. You. Being able to travel and represent mutant kind the way we had always talked about. It was a dream… a pretty dream. And now, I think about why. Why is my dream falling apart now, (y/n)? I know she wants to take you and move and I… I don’t want that to happen, to only see you through a video call or holidays, but I don’t want to beg her to stay and make her anymore unhappy. Your mother deserves the world, kiddo. I just wish I had given her the proper one.” You fall into a heavy silence, your father gently stroking your back as you take in everything he’s said to you. It’s so obvious. It’s screaming, how much he still loves her, how much she still loves him- you just couldn’t understand or make any of this logical.
They were True Bonds. They should be together… and yet not all True Bonds are. You couldn’t picture your mother with some new guy on her arm, laughing at his shitty dad jokes or having him stay over or even worse, taking an overnight bag to go to his place. You couldn’t see your dad with a new, younger blond bombshell that lowkey treats you like shit when he isn’t around. No. Absolutely not. You just had to do something to fix it.
And maybe then it would help that little fear in the back of your mind, that you would end up like this one day.
When you fall asleep against your father, he carries you to your room and tucks you in like you’re twelve again, stroking back your hair with a fond smile. You are their light, a reminder of a time where they had been happy and in love. They had just become established when you were born and those initial years of displacing a baby constantly had been hard, but they had made it through and you had only adored them more and more, picking up on languages like both of them because of such constant contact. Your father feels renewed hope from speaking to you, from actually speaking at all instead of holding everything in. And that night he decides that maybe he can repair what has been damaged between you and your mother. Maybe he can fix it before he loses the both of you forever.
In the morning you awake to bubble gum scented kisses to your brow and you instantly know it’s Peter showing his affection and trying to wake you up. It’s a weekend and you greet it with a renewed sigh and a lovely smile as your lashes flutter when you open your eyes to see the stare of your grinning boy. He’s so pale, silver locks hidden under a beanie you bought him for his birthday, and you’d never get tired of that sweet smile. You instantly scoot over and leave space for him to lay down beside you, his body instantly under the covers with a flurry of kisses meeting your brow.
“Mmm, so early… Peter?” You grumble out with a small giggle quickly escaping your throat as he kissed at your temples. He curls you up close, arms safely wound around you waist and crushing you to his chest. He rests his chin on your head and stays quiet for a moment before murmuring.
“I just missed you… and I needed you. Sorry I couldn’t wait anymore” His voice is quiet, and he clutches at you with more purpose than before. Outside of the physical touch, there is a mental bridge between your emotions and you can feel all of his affliction under the surface, like breaking through a cold pond. He’d panicked… missed you… needed to see that you were alright because everything had been too quiet and he was afraid you were slipping away. You snuggle back, a tiny frown on your lips as you murmur back in the quiet, still sleepy, but warmer, safer even.
“I missed you too… always miss you. Don’t be sorry.. I love it when you’re here. Love y-” Everything grows tense the moment the syllables cut themselves off with a gush of air because you’d never even thought about it. You’d never needed to, now that the moment is right here peeking at you in the face. You love Peter? Right? Yes, the answer is easy, ready, you love him. It’s only been six months since you’d started formally dating but you had been together through space and time for years. You love Peter; you love everything about him down to that little smile full of mischief and magic tied together with a perfect bow.
“I love you,” You whisper softly, eyes still closed, unafraid of what he might say back to you. It’s a soft moment for you, especially with the inner turmoil surrounding your family. But you don’t want to think about that or them right now, only Peter and how he kisses your hair, strokes over your tummy and makes you the happiest girl in the world.
“I love you, too.” He says after a moment and it’s so funny, how easy it is. There’s no grand gesture from Peter, no impromptu trip to an island or Everland in South Korea or Big Ben. It’s just you, him, a bed, wrapped up tight and sharing each other’s company. It meant a lot more to you to share it with the two of you alone than being around thousands of people. Even if it was out of the blue and not planned.
“I know it’s been hard, but I’m here for you. And I won’t ever leave you alone. I’m in this, for as long as you want me.” You hum in response, little fingers shifting under the covers to softly stroke over his hands. You still adore them so much, how soft yet firm they are, how they swallow your entire hand in their warm embrace. You just love him so wholly; the crushing thought of your parents situation just makes it worse. You never want to be without him yet you worry that you’ll end up on separate planets one day and that your love may not be enough.
You fall asleep against his chest that way, conflicted but growing more and more assured the longer he stays wrapped up around you, basking in your glow. He leaves a note for you when you wake up, with hearts and smiley faces saying that he had to report back to the mansion but that one call would make him come back in two heartbeats. You set the note in your dresser before slipping out of bed and changing into tights and one of his sweaters. You hear movement downstairs and realize your mother must be home, rushing out of your room and jumping down the stairs two steps at a time.
“Mom?” You call with a growing smile as you rounded into the kitchen to see her- backed up crowded against the refrigerator with your father’s tongue down her throat. So naturally-
You screamed to high heaven, shocking them apart. You stare, mouth gaping open, unblinking. Your parents have the audacity to be embarrassed, your mother flushing and coughing loudly as she hides behind your dad whose ears have gone red.
“You two- I- what- but- guys- why the k-kitchen!?” Not even you and Peter act like that! Your dad merely shrugs, turning to look at your flushing mother before a moment passes and they start to laugh, really laugh. It’s unfamiliar and familiar all the same because they used to laugh like that all the time, when things were much easier in your household. After their laughing fit, your mother reaches and lightly takes your father’s hand as she looks at you and shrugs, the smile on her face giddy like a teenager, relief there in her eyes. It has been such a long time since you’ve seen so much hope in her eyes; you can barely contain the joy that you feel rise up in the pit of your empty stomach. Peter could probably feel it, there was no way you’d be able to hold it back from your bond.
“Ah… well, you were the one that told me to try harder.” Your father rambled off in his defense, ears still the color of red roses as he glanced at your mother and tugs her closer by their joined hands as if she might suddenly disappear if he didn’t hold on tight enough.
“Y-Yeah, but come on! You can’t blame me for coming in here and being shocked at seeing- you- like- come on!” You squacked amongst their childish giggles, unable to keep their hands off each other. As disturbed as you would always be at having seen your parents acting like horny teens, it also struck you that they aren’t yelling anymore. In fact, your dad can’t stop whispering into you mother’s ear and making her blush and giggle and sigh and ew but also yay ? You cast your eyes away from the sight and take a couple steps out of their lovenest, deciding to leave the two alone to get reacquainted.
You teeter up to your room, fingers already scribbling all over your arm in a messy scrawl because this is big , huge , ginormous! and there’s only one person in the world you want to share it with. Peter scribbles back that he’ll be there in a minute and he literally is there by the time you take the stairs by twos and bound into your room, closing the door gently and turning back to lean against the frame.
“So no divorce?” Peter questions as he opens up his arms from his seat on your bed, his hair windswept and unkept in all the right ways. You grin in response, waddling over to toss yourself in his warm embrace.
“By the sight of them playing tongue-twister… I don’t think it’s going to happen right now. They looked happy, Peter. So happy. It’s been months since they’ve looked at each other like that and I’m just… maybe it’ll just keep getting better and this isn’t a one time thing.” You ramble as you snuggle into his warmth, peppering his jaw with soft kisses. He sighs and you can see and sense his relief at the same time; he must have been so worried about you.
“I hope it only gets better. I also haven’t seen a certain someone this happy in a while either.” He points out as he nuzzles the top of your head with his nose, breathing you in with each passing moment. And he’d never say it outloud or make you aware of it, but sometimes he worried maybe it’s him. Maybe you would be better suited for a human or someone who could be there consistently without having to run across the country to reach her. Maybe she’d rather someone who didn’t make a joke out of most things. Maybe she- maybe. So many maybes. It didn’t really matter what he thought, though. She’s here with him, talking to him about her life and her dreams and how much she can’t wait for them to have their own grand life together. Every step of the way, she’s thinking of him and he’s always thinking of her.
“So remember how you said you love me?” Peter murmurs after a moment, catching your attention and making you flush.
“Y-Yeah?”
“Well…. we didn’t get to celebrate. So I was thinking maybe we could pick a place on a map and go there for a few hours. I told Professor I’d be back a second before curfew and not a second later.” You laugh softly at the literal meaning of his words before nodding fervently, the blush creeping down your neck.
“Then how about we get a map?”
It didn’t really matter where your finger pointed, just that you were on a new adventure with your favorite boy in the entire universe, all worries now laid to rest. And now you could focus on your own relationship and let your parents work out their own issues in their own way.