“What are you so afraid of?” he asks gently. A hand moves to cup your cheek but you flinch hard and hit the wall with a thud. You wince at the pain, your eyes everywhere but him. Pity sparks in Peter’s chest. He wants to help so badly. To soothe you and put your mind at ease. He takes the mug off the small side table he’d nailed to the floor at your bedside. He offers it with a smile. “Here, it’s tea. I was worried about getting something you didn’t like or were allergic to, so I just grabbed it from your kitchen when I picked you up. I didn’t want you to think I was trying to kill you or something,” he says with a bit of a nervous chuckle.
You flinched a second time away from the mug, looking at it like it was full of venomous snakes instead of your favorite tea with just the right amount of buckwheat honey that you liked. He’d have to ask where you got it later, because he actually had some while he was waiting for you to wake up and it was so good, he couldn’t even believe-
“Is-” you cough and he perks hearing you speak the for the first time since you woke. “I- Is there- Did you put anything i-in it?” you ask with a bit of accusation behind your teeth when you speak to him.
Peter wants to frown, a bit annoyed but shakes it off for amusement at your jab. Instead, he maintains his smile and gives a small, breathy laugh. “No. No, it’s just tea. Cross my heart,” he says, offering it. You’re still watching it warily. “It’s got some honey, but I wouldn’t dose you now that you’re safe. That was the whole point, you know”. He tries and fails to catch your eye, dipping to get in your gaze but you turn away to the wall. He frowns. “I want to keep you safe. And you are safe; here”.
“Am I?” you ask bluntly and his heart breaks a bit at your miserable expression.
He sits up a bit straighter. “Of course. I wouldn’t let you get hurt!” He prays to god you believe him. You give him a distrustful look, staring him in the eye for the first time. His breathing catches like he’s coaxing out a wild animal to put faith in his palm to sniff. Your eyes flick down to the tea in silence. “…Please drink? That stuff I used is really dehydrating. I would know, I knocked myself out a few times to test. Put me on my ass and I drank damn near a gallon of water when I woke up”. You continue to stare in silence. Peter frowns dejectedly. “Look, if you don’t drink it you could start fainting from dehydration and I’ll have to get an IV and I would really rather not stick another needle in you, and I think you’ll agree”.
You flinch and slowly inch your hand to take the steaming mug from him, the chain clanging against the bedpost with the movement.
Peter smiles. Progress is slow but sweet.
“Careful,” he says softly, standing. You tremble, sweat pooling on the back of your neck. “It’s hot”.