Just Trust Me You'll Be Fine
Peter
Peter had swung around the city for three more hours trying to find any trace of those men that he and Daredevil had run into earlier. He was slightly ticked off that Daredevil had stopped him from going after them earlier but logically, he was right. It couldn’t be that easy to break someone out of prison.
There was no trace of the men.
He had stopped four more robberies, a gun deal, and three drug deals before heading back to his apartment. The large dusty windows in his living room didn’t open, so he was left to use the window to his fire escape. The landing was rusty and shook as he landed on it, causing his stomach to lurch before he climbed into his bedroom.
He had made his bed and heated up some noodles for himself to eat for late dinner/ early breakfast, sitting on his bed to eat it. His phone was lighting up with notifications from Deadpool asking about his patrol and if he had snapped a picture of Daredevil’s ass, all of which he chose to ignore.
He had hoped his tight stomach earlier was due to being hungry, but as he finished his bowl of noodles and placed them in the sink his chest continued to tighten, nausea churning in his stomach.
He took a deep breath and rubbed his chest.
He paced his room, tracing circles in the dust on the floor, and then he moved to pace on the ceiling.
He lay in his bed and stared at the ceiling, the water stains changing from red, to green, to pink as the lights on the billboard changed color.
He started his Note To Self List on his phone, putting ‘buy curtains’ at the top of the list.
He tried some of his new cleaning solutions on the stains on his counter, and then his floor, and then his wall, and then his backsplash. He was pleased with most of the results.
Nothing would help with the tightness in his chest.
Finally, he threw on a soft sweater, put his key ring in his pocket, and exited his apartment. He locked the door, pushing the key in and then gently pulling it out, marveling at the trick that Mr. Murdock had taught him.
There was roof access through the top of the staircase that Peter decided he would check out. Making it to the top of the stairs felt like it had taken years due to the exhaustion in his bones.
No matter how tired he was he wouldn’t be able to sleep until he had gotten rid of the tightness in his chest.
Warm summer air gently licked his face as he opened the door. It had rained slightly at some point while he was cleaning the apartment, the roof wet under his worn-out Converse. The smell of the rain was a pleasant freshness that covered the usual garbage and piss smell of the city.
Maybe he should move to Canada with Deadpool, it probably smells better there. Deadpool had said that winters were brutal though, and Peter had discovered, the hard way, that he could not thermoregulate the same way he had used to before the spider bite.
As he breathed in, the tightness in his chest slowly dissipated. He wasn’t positive what exactly it was that had caused his anxiety to flare up so bad tonight but he had assumed it had something to do with The Vulture. He always found it harder to breathe when he thought about the building that Adrian Toomes had crushed him with.
His chest tightens again.
Peter was only able to sleep that night when he had put the Spider-Man mask on.
And the next night.
And every night for the next week.
~~~~~~
For a week straight, Matt was awoken by the heavy anxious pounding of his neighbor's heartbeat on the roof. The sound equated to if he were stomping around next to his bed with heavy shoes on. His breath was usually labored, the rattling wheezes scratching at Matt’s brain. He could just barely smell salt from unshed tears.
For a week straight he showed up to the office with less sleep than usual, and with darker bags under his eyes. Karen and Foggy assumed that it was from his late-night crime fighting, but by Friday, when Matt was almost asleep at his desk, Karen decided to intervene.
“Matt” Karen whispers, knocking lightly on the door frame. Matt stops his reading, moving his head to look in her general direction. He wasn’t wearing his glasses, something Karen could only assume was due to how overstimulated he gets when he is tired.
“Yeah, what’s up Karen?” Matt is quiet when he speaks, exhaustion evident in his voice. Karen walks over to his desk and leans against it, placing her hand over Matt’s own. His fingers twitch slightly.
“You’ve been staying out too late again, haven’t you?” Matt shakes his head, dismissively.
“I wish that was the reason I was so tired. I haven’t been out more than usual, it’s my neighbor keeping me up.” Karen quirks her brow, curious.
“How so?”
“I can hear him, every night, up on the roof. His heart beats so fast and so loud. He has so many palpitations he should honestly, probably, be hospitalized.” Matt explains, frustrated. Karen is surprised, not expecting this to be the reason for her co-worker to be kept up at night.
“Is he sick?”
Matt shakes his head.
“Anxiety, insomnia probably. He should probably be medicated for it before he has a heart attack or something.” Karen huffs out a small laugh.
“I want to help him, Karen, I really do. Not just because it would mean I could get some sleep.”
Karen nods.
“I’m sure we can find a way to help.” Karen is silent for a moment as she thinks, but Matt can practically hear her thinking, gears and cogs turning in her head. Her shoulders rise slightly and she tilts her head, a clear tell that she has thought of something.
“What if we invite him to your place to welcome him to the building, I’m sure he’d appreciate it. Maybe knowing there's someone he can trust in the building will help him sleep better?” Matt smiles.
“Sure. Are you busy tonight?” Matt asks. He hears Karen’s silk hair brush against her blouse as she shakes her head.
“I’ll walk home with you after work?” Matt nods, and Karen pats his hand before getting up to leave.
He can feel the tingling warmth of Karen's touch on his hand for the rest of the day.