Regular Days are Over
The wind rushes through the red sand like fire. Maybe it is fire, he’s burning all over.
People call out in pain, panic.
Then, silence.
The silence after the storm. It’s already too late.
It comes in flashes. A hand reaching towards his, gone. The endless void of space. An empty compound. A flash of orange followed by more endless space. Real fire turns to sand and back again. The feeling of falling. A sunset that stretches on forever. Faces. So many faces, he wishes they would leave him alone after all this time.
“Peter”
“Kid”
God, stop.
The scenes come faster and faster, he can’t keep up.
“We’re running out of time.”
“Something is coming.”
“Peter.”
“Peter!”
Peter shot up in his bed, struggling to breathe, eyes wide and searching because the voices that called out to him felt so real.
He was getting really tired of not being able to breathe.
He felt his stomach churn and swallowed heavily. It had been a while since he puked his guts up after just trying to sleep. He also thought the nightmares had started to ease up lately, which apparently was so they could come back full force and destroy him.
He struggled against the sheets his legs were tangled in, god he hated those sheets, and finally kicked them off with a frustrated grunt.
Practically throwing himself off his bed onto shaking legs, he stumbled to the bathroom down the hall. It’s late enough in the early morning that dim daylight illuminates the small apartment, allowing him to complete his path to the bathroom without walking into something.
Finally, he drops next to the toilet just in time for his stomach to try and turn inside out, and heaves into the bowl. Nothing much comes out of course, he hadn’t really eaten since around noon the day before.
When his body decides it’s suffered enough for the morning, he collapses against the wall of the tub, panting.
He seems to have finally come to his senses because now he can feel his sweat soaked t-shirt clinging to his torso. He reaches both hands up to his hair and gives it a rough run-through.
The words haunt him.
“Something is coming.”
So this is how today’s gonna be.
_____________________
Peter Parker never thought his life would end up like this.
There had been times as a child when he would dream of completing valiant acts alongside the avengers.
But there was something about getting bitten by a radioactive spider, being deathly sick for a few days, and waking up one of those days with the ability to complete said valiant acts that really....
….changed a person.
Loosing family three times over also changes you.
And it’s never in an easy way. It’s never peaceful. You never get to say ‘I love you’ before they go.
He’s not used to it. Maybe he should be.
On bad days he wishes he wasn’t the ‘last man standing’.
On really bad days he thinks he might do something about it.
May would be devastated. He can’t do that to her after everything else, he’s taken enough from her.
He has Pepper too, and Happy. Clint made it out without so much as a scratch thanks to his retirement.
They had figured out fairly early on that it was the intention behind the snap that made them lucky.
‘Avengers’ only. Peter was never an Avenger, a spur of the moment “mature” desicion he made almost two years earlier would ironically save his life. He wishes he’d been a little more naive.
Anyway here he is on a Friday afternoon a little over three years later, crisp fall air brushing his cheeks as he walks back from a particularly long lecture he hadn’t been paying enough attention to.
To be fair, he had a rough morning. And the dream he had seemed to be stuck in his head tighter than web fluid.
It continued to nag at him as he checked his phone for his schedule.
It was basically the same every day, he’d fallen into an easy routine when he started college last year.
Easy meaning he could loose himself in it. Dissociation had become a part of his weekly routine. At the beginning they were all lucky if dissociation was all that was on the menu that day.
Good days, bad days. After about a year-and-a-half they started to blend together. At that point he had no choice but to accept what had happened. What’s done is done. So yeah, good days and bad days turned into regular days.
Regular days consisted of waking up too early, classes, work, home, attempting to sleep, and repeat. Not good, and not eventful enough to be bad.
He heads to work. Work for him these days is a four hour shift at a small local pop culture and record store a walks distance away from campus.
It’s usually quiet there, a few people flipping through records and browsing at a time. It’s not often you get a noisy or disrespectful customer. Peter supposes that’s why he likes it. He liked quiet a lot more after the snap.
The bell on the door chimes as Peter pushes it open and he greets his manager, Nick, with a nod.
Nick drops his feet to the floor from where they were propped on the register as he speaks.
“One thirty on the dot, you’re never late, are you Parker?”
“You know it. It’s not like I have anything else to do.”
“You can’t tell me the girls aren’t dying to keep you after class. You look like you haven’t slept in days, people dig that look now.”
“If they did, maybe I wouldn’t be here, Nick.”, Peter cracks a small ironic smile. If only Nick knew.
Nick graduated from the same college about a year ago at twenty-two years old, around the time Peter started working at the shop.
MJ and Peter had decided to try an open relationship when they both got accepted to different colleges and Nick happened to be attractive and smart. They weren’t anything more than friends by any means but kissing in the back rooms supply closet a few times didn’t hurt anyone.
Nick huffed out a laugh. “Oh, Maya can’t make her shift today, something about a doctors appointment, do you mind staying like two more hours to help me with the boxes in the back?”
“Yeah, sure.”
“Thanks, man.”
“No problem.”
Nick leans his forearms on the counter, “Hey, if you’re not doing anything after, and I know you’re not, there’s this party at Liams place. I told you I was gonna get you to go out more. You feel up to it?”
Peter considers, but he really shouldn’t. He already feels like crap and he has to call May tonight.
“Nah, man. Had a rough morning, wanna try to get to sleep earlier. Morning classes tomorrow, y’know?”
“Yikes, alright. Next time though, no exceptions”, Nick states, pointing a finger at Peter's chest.
Peter nods once and starts his shift.
______________________
Peter arrives back at his apartment at eight o’clock that night. Two hours later than he planned at the start of the day, subway time included.
He climbs the three flights of stairs and manages to not drop his keys while opening the front door. Which is a great accomplishment considering this is on the worse side of a regular day.
He’s exhausted, and is already planning to make a beeline for the bed. He doesn’t know if he’ll be able to fall asleep, the recent nightmare and mornings events still lingering in his mind. It was odd considering nightmares were the new normal and he had begun to dismiss them.
Walking to the window across from the bedroom door, he tosses his keys on the bed and begins unpacking his bag.
He freezes suddenly when he feels a tingle at the back of his neck.
His sixth sense hadn’t made an appearance in the last eight months.
“Parker”, a familiar, serious voice speaks from the doorway behind him.
Peter turns his head slowly, eyes widening when he realized exactly who had decided to let themself into his apartment with a sparkly orange void.
“Shit.”
He should’ve taken Nick up on that offer.