Chapter 4
Peter was pretty good at hiding things. He had learned from watching the mercs that sometimes you shouldn’t share. It was easier, too, when your father was away a lot of nights for work.
His nightmares were one of those things he figured he shouldn’t share. He wasn’t sleeping well, and his dad was catching on, but so long as he didn’t make a sound on the nights Wade was home, he was fine.
He couldn’t smell that cologne, though, without being back there. The man had been wearing tons of it, and it had been a heavy scent – the kind that people complained about getting headaches from. He couldn’t go through the warehouse district to get home anymore, which sucked because it added a solid 15 minutes to his walk.
His life was kinda starting to suck. And his gym teacher was being a jerk, saying that he should be able to do pull ups on one arm. Yeah, his dad could, but he could only do one, and admitted it took him years to get there. It was more of a party trick than anything else.
That was the least of his concerns, though, when he considered that no matter what he did to try and build a prosthetic, it didn’t work. His dad had talked about buying one, but he knew money was tight. They couldn’t afford one.
Laying his head on his pillow, he figured he better get it over with. Get as much sleep as possible before the terror set in and he was awake the rest of the night.
There was a sharp pain on his left, but he had to worry about the things holding him first. There was something tight, and the more he struggled, the harder it was to breathe.
He could see his dad in front of him.
He could see his aunt behind her, the same look of fear as she told Peter to run, run, run! She held his uncle in her lap. Loud noises surrounded him before Peter had a chance to really figure out how to get out of the restraints holding him.
He was nine! Why were people trying to get a hold of him?
His dad got thrown to the side, his body getting mangled in the process. An older man, hair greyed and eyes lit up with some kind of sick joy stood over Peter. Put his hand on his shoulder before leaning down, making Peter hear that voice even in his dreams.
“You can’t save anyone. Can you, little boy?”
“Get away from me you fucking creep!”
“Naughty boy!” There was a smack to his head. “Naughty, naughty boy. I assume you picked that up from that trash you call a father, yes?”
“What’s it to you, dickwad?”
He was nine, but he knew how to swear like the best of them.
Suddenly his world was shaking, and he began to panic. Was this an earthquake? Was he dying? What was –
And then he had his dad in front of him. The thing that felt like it was holding him too tight was his blanket, tangled around his arm and the still-healing stump. He wasn’t in a broken-down warehouse, he was in their apartment, his dad holding him and running a hand over his hair.
“You’re okay, buddy. I promise.”
“Do you get nightmares, Dad?”
“All the time, kid.” The hand put a little pressure on Peter’s head, pushing him closer to Wade. “That’s why I don’t want you getting wrapped up in my line of work. If you never see the kinds of things I’ve seen, I’ll be able to say I did my job as a parent right.”
Peter wrapped his arms around his dad. He didn’t think he’d be home tonight. He thought there was a job tonight, that he was on his own. “I missed you.”
“Missed you too, bud.” Wade laid down, pulling Peter with him. “Was this a onetime thing, or has it been going on a while?”
Peter shrugged. “This was the first time May and Ben were in it.”
“Your aunt and uncle?”
Peter nodded. “Other than that, it’s a lot of the same.”
“Kid, you can always come to me. If the worst I ever have to fight off for you from here on out is a nightmare, I will be one happy father.”
“Really?”
“Absolutely. Because that means you aren’t getting kidnapped by psychos that I’ve pissed off.” Wade sat up a bit, pulling his jacket off and throwing it to the side of the bed. “You said your aunt and uncle were in it tonight?”
Peter nodded again, already feeling himself drift off.
“You know, kid, we can look for them if you want.”
Peter thought about it. It could be kinda nice… he didn’t want to leave Wade, though. He liked it here. “Maybe. Can we talk about this tomorrow?”
“Yeah. We can. Sleep well, kid.”
They didn’t talk about it the next day. Wade didn’t know how to bring it up, and Peter was distant enough without Wade adding to it.
It wasn’t until Wednesday that they even began to consider discussing it.
“I think I want to find her.”
Peter had walked up to the apartment from Nassrin’s, barely talking. Nassrin had been worried, pulling Wade aside and asking him if something had happened.
“Your aunt?”
Peter shifted where he was standing. His bookbag was handing off of his bad side, and he slipped it off, hooking it in the crook of his elbow. He slipped it on his bed over his stump. “Yeah.”
Wade waited. There was something he wasn’t saying.
“I just… I love you, but… I miss her.”
Wade knew Peter didn’t really remember his aunt, but he could understand the sentiment. He missed his mom, even if he had barely known the woman.
“We’ll do our best, then. Yeah?” Wade pulled Peter into a hug.
“Yeah.” Peter leaned into the hug. “We always do.”
That’s right, buddy. We always do.