Nerves
# 6 Go on a date
And Peter thought it was about time.
They’ve both said the L word, what was a date to them?
But Summer was nervous all the same, and she doesn’t even know why. What could possibly happen? What could go wrong? Why’s this time different from every other time they’ve hung out?
It was just going to be a picnic on the garden. Tracker’s still out there, even if it had been days since they last saw him at the gate. Peter didn’t want to risk anything. And she would’ve been fine with just a summer dress and a little blush on her cheek, but Jean, Kitty and Jubilee had other ideas. They’ve been helping her get ready for the past two hours. Laughing with the girls did help her with her nerves and she had to admit: she’s never looked as pretty as this. Peter’s jaw would fall to the floor.
They were supposed to meet by the entrance hall five minutes ago. Summer was on time and Peter was Peter: time was his mortal enemy. Looking out the window, Summer saw beans of light peeking through holes in the clouds. The sun would set in a while, casting pinks and oranges into the sky, painting the perfect background for their first date.
A gush of wind announced that Peter had arrived, and she turns to him with a smile on her face.
Peter stops time, just because he can.
Living at the institute, Peter witnessed firsthand how many mutants had a hard time accepting themselves, while Peter himself had never been able to identify a downside to his condition. Having more time than anyone else in the world was a blessing. It gave him moments like this.
Summer was the most beautiful human he’d ever seen. It made it all the more especial knowing that she had dressed like that for him. He might have made one or two things right in his life, if he got to call her his.
“Wow” he says, as time unfroze, and he watches as her smile fades. He wasn’t ready for their date. He’s wearing his X-men suit “I’m so sorry”
“It’s alright” and if anyone would understand it, it would be Summer “We can do it some other time” she walks over to him, cups his cheek with her soft hand “Go.” and it sounded small, as if she didn’t really mean it. Peter steals a peck, kissing the sadness away, something that she felt was another unhuman ability that he had.
“I love you” and he sped off before she could say it back.
___________________________
“Just five more minutes” Summer whispers to herself, for the eighth time that night.
It was now way past midnight, and Summer was still waiting for him to come back, holding the heart pendant that dangled from her neck, a habit she had picked up recently.
Peter never said he’d come back that night, but he also never said he wouldn’t. Sometimes they spent days on a mission, which was never good on her nerves. She doesn’t think she’ll ever get used to it. To watch them go, not sure if they would ever come back.
It wasn’t just Peter; it was all her new friends; it was Scott, her only family. She had too much at stake here. Had too much to lose.
Then she hears it. The gates opening, the landing, the steps and the voices. Aggressive sounds, that were comforting to her.
Summer could be there at the hangar with them, but then again, she could not. It was a restricted area, for x-men only, though she didn’t think anyone would mind. Those rules were put in place for the students, not so much for the staff. She stood on the other side of the door, the area where anyone could come and read the restricted area sign.
Peter was her Schrodinger cat. He was there and not. Well and not. Alive and not. All at once, but not for long.
The sliding doors opened with a whooshing sound, indicating the change in pressure, but now was not the time to nerd out about it. The x-men came marching, cuts and bruises, torn uniforms and sad smiles, indicating that the mission was successful, but tiresome. Summer sees Scott, sees the scratch on his face, sees a whole sleeve missing from his uniform and sees blood that didn’t seem to be his staining all over. He smiles at her, and she is oh so glad that he was alive.
She sees her friends, tired but alive. And then she sees Peter, the love of her life, unconscious in a hospital bed.
“He’s just asleep” Jean is quick to reassure, she more than anyone knows what is going on inside Summer’s head. “He’s a pain in the ass when he’s... well, in pain.”
A broken leg. An injury to the nerve. Nothing more.
It could have been much worse, Summer thought, as she brushes his hair to the side. She thanked the heavens that it wasn’t.
Jean put him to sleep to silence him, and everyone agreed to leave him that way until the morning. Summer wanted to protest selfishly, just because she missed his voice, missed his eyes, wanted him to reassure that he was alright. She knew it was better to let him rest, let his fascinating metabolism heal his leg. Hank said he’d be better in a week or two, from a fracture that it would take months to heal in any other human.
She imagined it would happen again, many times. Breaking his leg was an efficient way to stop someone that naturally can’t be contained. It comes with the job, and she half wishes he had chosen another path. But this was his choice, what filled him with purpose, and she just had to be supportive.
Summer lays beside him on his bed, playing with his hair, running her fingertips across his face every now and then. She wants to be there when he wakes up. Wants him to know she was with him the whole night. Wants him to know she worried, she cared. But he probably already knew that.