#hollandroos

Y/N had always been a secretive person. When they first met two years ago, she tried to keep a distance between herself and Peter--barely talking to him, declining every invitation he offered and Peter would have given up trying to be her friend at one point or another. That is,  if she hadn’t continued to stand with him and Ned in the hallways, sit with them at lunch, and trail behind them on the walk home. Eventually she started talking to them more, laughing out loud and all around became more comfortable with them.

When she was first confronted about why she tried so hard to isolate herself at first, by Peter--many months after their friendship blossomed--she had said the only reason she stayed by them was because she liked the company they gave. It made her feel less alone--like maybe if she could learn to open up to them she would be able to have friends, and she did. She said she liked how they didn't give up on her but let her ease up to them. However, to this day, she was still secretive--keeping answers about her family short and would change the subject when things started to get uncomfortable for her.

Peter knew she hid things from them and, as any human, Peter wanted to find out what it was that Y/N kept locked up so tight, and with his powers he knew he could probably figure it out and sometimes he was tempted, especially when Y/N would drop tidbits of information about her home life, but whenever the temptation arose, he refused. Everyone, including Peter himself, had secrets they didn't want out. So he made a promise to himself to keep hope that, one day, she would feel comfortable enough to open up and fill in the rest of the holes about her life . And keep that promise he did.

That was, until she started showing up to school with mysterious bruises.

This caused all promises to be thrown out the window and Peter became determined to find out what was causing the constant bruising, find out more about her life and he was willing to do anything even if it meant finding out the information from someone who wasn't Y/N herself.

This led him to Jack whom Peter had only meant a couple of times, but Peter had learned Jack was a long time family friend and so if anyone knew anything about Y/N it would be him.

It was the conversation that Peter and Jack had had a few hours prior that was taking up Peters thoughts as he swung around the streets the conversation that made him realize that the little bit Peter thought he knew about Y/N, was all a lie.

___________________________

“Peter, I’m sorry. You’re a good kid and it’s nothing personal, I’m sure, but she’s bullshitting you.” Jack deadpanned as he leaned on the door frame to his apartment, seemingly annoyed that Peter was there to begin with.

“Wh-what?” He stuttered, not understanding the meaning behind Jacks words.

“Everything she’s told you about herself is probably a lie,” The young adult confessed to him with a look of pity in his eyes.

“How do you know that?” Peter tried to defend himself as he wanted to hold onto the belief that he knew Y/N better than anyone else. The belief that she was honest with him, even if it was only little bits of information.

“Because you're here to ask me about her family, right? Which means you don't know anything about her family.” He stated, appearing annoyed with the conversation at hand.

“She’s told me some things. . . .” Peter said, trying hard to be confident, but struggled as he began to question everything she had told him over their time together.  

“Yeah, but it's all lies, because that's what she feels she has to do.” Jack tried to tell the young boy again. But Peter, suddenly feeling very offended, decided to ignore what Jack was trying to get him to understand. “Why are you acting like you know me?” Peter demanded--holding onto his last hope about Y/N.

“I don't know you, I know her. What do you know about her family, Peter? Do you know she had a brother?” He asked firmly. Peter could see a small smirk dance across his face for a fraction of a second--the kind that causes a person to hold their head up high, because they know something that someone else does not. Peter wasn't sure why, but it flared up anger inside of him.

“Yeah, and I know he died.” Peter stated rather proudly for a brief moment, before

realizing what words had just come from his mouth and his overconfident behavior was quickly turned off.

“Wow. . .I’m impressed she’s told you that. I can bet you don't know how, right?” Jack said with a nod and a tone in his voice that seemed to say that Jack already knew the answer.

“N-No. . . .” Peter stuttered out after a few seconds as the words Jack had been speaking seemed to sink in. He started to lose hope about knowing Y/N better than anyone else.

“And what about her parents? What has she told you about them?” He asked, this time with a grim expression.

“That they travel a lot.” Peter answered, realizing how vague that answer was, and suddenly became embarrassed that he came to Jack to ask more about her family. Especially when he didn't seem to know anything about them in the first place.  

“Yeah, travel a lot my ass. . . .” Jack scoffed with an eye roll as his anger seemed to increase but not necessarily at Peter.

“Tell me then. Tell me what this big secret is.” Peter bursted out--anger growing within him. Jack knew all the information that Peter had been trying to get out of Y/N for months, and he was dangling it in front of Peter like a bone. He realized that the angry feeling was jealousy. Why does Jack get to know all this about her, but not him? Why is Jack so special to Y/N?

“It's not my place to tell, Peter. She'd kill me if she found out. You have to understand that the hand life gave that girl was complete shit, and she knows it. She has her reasons for hiding just like everyone else. ” He sighed.

“ I need to know!” Peter demanded holding his chin up high.

“Why are you here, Peter? Why do you want to know so much about Y/N, huh? Is it because you're pining after her and just want to know more about the dark and mysterious girl in your life? Because it's pathetic that you can't wait for her trust”  Jack spat at the kid, clearly fed up with the conversation that had been going in circles.

Peter was taken aback by the older boy’s words--was Peter that easy to read? It was then Peter realized he wasn't there to find out more about her. Well, he was, but it was because she was getting hurt and seemingly the only person he knew who might help was Jack. He had gotten so caught up in his jealousy that he forgot the whole reason he was there in the first place. “No, Jack, just listen. I'm worried about her. She's been showing up to school with bruises and trying to cover them up. It’s been weeks and I know asking her will get me nowhere and I want to help her. I think she's getting abused and I need to know who’s doing it, and my first thought was her family because, as proven, I know nothing about them.” Peter explained his reasoning in a calmer, yet more desperate tone.

There was a silence that filled the air as Jack’s demeanor had quickly dropped. Anything he had been previously thinking had obviously changed, and his eyes were darting back and forth as he stared at the floor as if he was in deep thought about something. Peter ran a hand through his hair and let out a sigh--waiting for some form of response from the man before him. He was desperate for any information that would help.

“No, no. . .it wouldn't be them.” He whispered, licking his lips--not meeting Peter’s eyes.  

“How do you know?” Peter asked, desperately looking for an answer of any kind.  

“Because. . .she doesn't have a family. She lost the meaning of family when she lost Harrison.” Jack started with a heavy voice, but refused to break eye contact with Peter.

Peter stayed silent fearing if he spoke, Jack would stop his explanation.

“She’s gonna kill me for this, but if it helps find out who the fuck is hurting her then I guess it's worth it.” Jack sighed before diving into thought and revealing everything he knew.

“Harrison was Y/N’s hero. He practically raised her, and so when he died, to her it was like losing everything. She had no one. Do you remember that huge building fire in Brooklyn a few years back? Building burnt down completely?”

“Yeah,. . .vaguely” Peter said with confusion, as he didn't understand what that had to do with Harrison's death--Y/N didn't live in Brooklyn.

“Harrison, Y/N, and I were walking home from school. Haz and I had just finished out last day of senior year, and we're gonna go spend the afternoon together with some friends. But, as usual, Haz had to make sure Y/N got home safe. We passed the building that was on fire, and what happened next I'm still not completely sure. He made me take Y/N across the street and keep her away from the commotion while he ran over and into the building to search for those who couldn't get out. because the fire department had not arrived... By the time it was all said and done, Harrison had pulled 6 people from the building, 5 of them kids who had just gotten home. He was rushed to the hospital shortly after the Fire department arrived, Y/N and I rode with him. He died later that day from smoke inhalation.”

He paused abruptly from his already brief explanation, stopping himself before he could get choked up.

“He didn't even make it to fucking graduation,. . . .” Jack whispered then, breaking eye contact with Peter as he looked down to the ground and Peter watched as they boy took his hand and rubbed them over his eyes to wipe away the tears that had formed rather than letting them fall.

“She lost everything that day. . .she has no family.” Jack stressed again making sure Peter really understood what he meant.  

“What about her mom-” Peter started, but was cut off before his thought was completed.

“Y/N never knew her mom Peter, she died right after Y/N was born.”  

“Why would she not tell me that?” Peter asked with hurt in his voice. She had told Peter that her mom is gone a lot for work.  Had he not been a good enough friend for her to tell him anything even remotely true? Had he not proven how much he cared for her? That he wouldn't judge her for anything?

“Because she's always blamed herself for it and thinks everyone else will too. She'd rather live a lie that people are unlikely to find out, rather than live her life thinking everyone blames her for her mothers death.” Jack explained the girls thinking, but in a way that made it seemed like Jack had tried to convince her otherwise and failed.

“Something like that isn't her fault. Why would she blame herself?”

“Because her piece of shit father did for her whole life.” Jack said through clenched teeth and followed it with a dry chuckle as Peter noticed his knuckles were white from his hands being balled up in fists.

Peter thought this was it--if her father blamed Y/N for her mothers death, then maybe he's the one that causing the bruises. But then he stopped himself, remembering that Jack seemed so sure that it wasn't anyone in her family.

Jack let out a sigh, seemingly hesitant to continue, but after a few seconds decided to continue anyway.  

“From what I understand, when their mother died, their father tried to take care of the kids to be a good father through it all. But the more the two of them grew, the more milestones they passed without the presence of their mother. . .the harder it became for him. So, he used work as an excuse to get away, he started traveling more. At first it wasn't much, just some weekends and a few days at a time, and they would come stay at my place with me and my parents. When Harrison got older though, and he could start taking care of himself and Y/N, their father started travelling more and more. To the point he was gone more than he was home. They resented him for it. So, when Harrison died, her father came home for 3 days for the funeral and was back out again. He barely spoke to Y/N. She lives by herself mostly now. When I'm home, I'll spend a couple days with her. Check on her, make sure she's okay, but there's only so much I can do. I consider myself lucky that she still lets me in to her life. Her father comes home once every couple months, if that. They honestly want nothing to do with each other.”

Peter stood baffled. How could someone do that to there kid? Leave them on their own like that? How could someone be so…so shitty?

“But what about her apartment and food and stuff. How does she afford that?” Peter questioned while still trying to process what Jack has just told him.

“Call it her father's guilty conscious or whatever, but every month he transfers a shit ton of money into her account every month to pay for food groceries, rent and whatever else she needs to pay. She's learned to do all her own expenses and taxes she's an kid living the life of an adult.”

“Thats…” Peter trailed. “Complete bullshit? Yeah... So, I'm sorry I couldn't help you more, Peter, but it’s not her family. It has to be from something else. Let me know if you find anything.” Jack nodded seemingly putting an end to their conversation.

“Yeah, thanks.” Peter said in a dry tone as he was more lost in his thought than he was there in that moment.

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Peter knew Y/N had secrets and he had respected that she didn't want to tell him about every aspect of her life. But to lie about it to him. . . ?

Peter couldn't help but feel like complete shit that his best friend had been living the crappy life she had been without help from anyone. He doubted she would have taken any help, but Peter knows better than anyone that the hardest feeling is feeling like no one is there. Peter figured something was happening at home with her, and so he tried his best for years now to be there for her--to be a best friend, to let her open up to him about anything she wanted. He thought he had been a good friend--someone she could trust. But obviously not, and this bothered Peter more than he was willing to admit.

He wanted to be mad at her--he did. Not because she didn't trust him enough to open up to him, but because she blatantly lied to him about more than one thing. He wanted so badly to be mad at her, but he couldn't.  

He thought back to when he lost uncle Ben. If he could have hidden behind a lie that no one would see through just to avoid the constant pity glances everywhere he went, he knew he probably would have done it. When his parents died, he would have loved to have just pretended everything was normal and that living with your aunt and uncle was something everyone did. So, why should Peter be mad at her because Y/N found an easy way out?

As Peter continued to web around the city, he realized it was a slow night and he was finding nothing. Mostly because he wasn't really looking. The hero realized it was pointless to continue his rounds, because he was nowhere near the right headspace he needed to be in to fight anyone. So, he figured it was best if he went home. To think of a way to help Y/N and earn her trust. That's all he wanted right now—for her to trust him. To find out who and or what was causing her physical harm.

And so he turned to swing home, mind still trying to web together the complicated story that Jack had confessed to him.

Suddenly, his spider-senses went off—alerting him of danger.

Out of instinct, his hand went to the back of his head—as if that would stop the pain. For a fraction of a second, the boy in the red and blue suit started to freefall before realizing what was going on and catching himself latching onto a building with another web.

As he climbed up, he landed on the roof and felt his senses go off for a second time causing Peter to wince, Someone was in trouble, but who? From what his instincts told him, it wasn't close. But Peter figured it must have been bad for it to break through his deep thoughts about Y/N. He spun in circles on the roof waiting for a sign—or something—to tell him which direction to start heading. After a few seconds, it went off again and Peter decided it was enough standing around. He leaped off the building letting his instinct take him where he needed to go and hopefully fast as the panicked feeling inside his chest started to grow.

Peter swung from building to building at a much faster pace than normal his senses felt like they were screaming at him that he needed to find whatever it was that was making them go off. Briefly all of his thoughts had been taken away from Y/N. His spidey senses worked like a GPS as he swung closer to Manhattan he could tell he was getting closer to this danger, when he could tell he was close he slowed down his swinging until he landed on a firescape that was on the side of the building next to an alleyway. This was were the danger was, he was sure, but it seemed like an empty alleway.

He scanned the area looking for something—listening for something. It was hard with the crowded street that was outside of the dark alley. That was, until his eyes caught a figure he hadn't seen upon his arrival. He didn't even have to see the girls face to know who it was.

Y/N.

No wonder his senses had been so strong. It's because his mind had only been on her, and therefore when she got in danger, they alerted him. But what kind of danger was she in? No one else was in the alley.

Peter wanted to jump down to talk to her, but figured it was best if he found out what was going on first. So, instead, he carefully watched her as she stood in the alley. Her back was to him—staring into the street of crowded people.

What in the world was she doing?

That's when he heard it: the sniffling coming from the girl. Immediately, he needed to see her face to find out what was wrong.  

He watched the back of her head as she stared for long seconds until she let out a noise—one that sounded like a sob? Y/N quickly covered her mouth—attempting to hold in any other noise. Peter decided the back of her head wasn't a good place to be looking, so he slowly crawled along the side of the building so he could see her face. But what he saw wasn't what he was used to seeing.

Instead of looking at the beautiful face that brightened his day, what he saw was a broken image. The first thing he noticed was the copious amounts of tears and makeup that trailed down her face, and the sobs she was trying hard to keep within herself.

Why was she in an alleyway crying? He needed to be closer to her, to help her, to console her, to be there with her through whatever was happening. He couldn't sit and watch her any longer.

“Excuse me? Do you need any help?” Peter called as he continued to crawl down the building.

He watched as she became startled by his voice—jumping about 5 feet back and frantically searching around to find the owner of the voice. Her body starts to involuntarily shake as she became more frightened. Peter cringed at the fact he seemed to have scared her more than calmed her down. He was used to people feeling relieved when they saw the red and blue suit not the other way around.

As Peters feet landed on the floor, he stood up to look at the girl who was now gripping her own hands so hard that her knuckles and fingers were white. The shaking had not stopped.

“N-no...I'm fine, th-thank you….”She stuttered in a quiet voice. Y/N was trying to hold back the tears, but was unsuccessful.

Peter cocked his head to the side at the differences between the Y/N he knew, and the one that was standing in front of him.

Normally, she was outspoken and confident with her words—she wasn't scared to look anybody in the eye and never showed emotion.

He took a step closer to help the girl but quickly came to a stop. When her eyes snapped up in fear, she took two large steps back and her breathing became more staggered.

“Please. Don't come any closer.” She called out, clearly panicked.

That's when Peter really caught her face for the first time. It took everything he had not to go over and demand what had happened—to demand answers. Above all, it took everything he had not to pull her into a hug and let her cry it out—to help her.

Her left cheek was bruised and the left part of her upper lip was split open. The top of her eye had a mixture of black and blue encircling it.

“Hey, hey, what happened?” He asked trying to hide the panic in his voice, looking around the alleyway to make sure there really was no one else he had missed.

“Please, leave me alone. Please, don't come any closer.” She begged again, holding out her hand top stop him. She looked away from the superhero and anyone could tell she was quickly losing any composure she had. The tears could no longer be held back and her breaths became quicker.

“Hey, don't you know who I am? I’m Spider-Man. I won’t hurt you. I’m here only to help.” Peter tried to stay in character, light hearted and joking. He held his hands up in self defense and tried to step closer, but couldn't as Y/N stumbled back about 5 steps and fell to the ground. She clutched her chest and her breathing became hyperventilated.

“I don-, I-I don't c-care. I don't k-know you, I don-, I-I-don't know who y-y-you are so please don't c-come any closer p-pl-please!” She begged him with more fear in her voice than anything Peter had heard. She was sobbing now and struggling to breath—it was obvious she could no longer talk.

Peter was, for the first occasion in a long time, truly terrified. He had never seen someone like this, and he didn't know what to do. He couldn't go near her, because she didn't know him, but he wasn't about to leave her here unsafe and unprotected. Especially not in the hysterical, terrified state she was in.

Peter realized that she was having a panic attack—something he knew very well about since the death of his uncle. He needed to help her, but he couldn't do it as Spider-Man.

“Get away. Get Away!” She cried as she clutched onto herself as best she could as she curled up into a ball. Peter took two steps back to see if that would calm her, but she was too far gone. It seemed like she couldn't figure out how to take breaths anymore, and she was holding her head in her hands.

Peter had to make a decision—fast. So, he followed his instinct. He needed to help her at any cost, he couldn't leave her like this. He reached to his head and whipped his mask off to reveal his face to Y/N. It was the only thing he could think of in the moment that might calm her down.

“Hey, Y/N, it’s me. Its’ Peter. It’s me.” He said as he tried to get the girl’s attention. He still didn't want to frighten her by coming any closer.

He watched as she picked up her head and caught the eyes of her best friend. Her breathing just stopped all together as she realized who the New York hero really was.

Suddenly, it became quiet as she studied his face. It was as if she couldn't process her best friend’s face coming out of the superhero suit. Peter carefully watched her face for any signs of distress, but it was hard from all the injuries she seemed to have sustained.

“Peter?” She whispered, eventually coming to her senses.

“Yeah, Y/N, it’s me. I need you to breath okay? In through your nose and out through your mouth.” He said as he kept his distance, making sure she calmed down before trying to get any closer. He breathed with her—making sure she knew the motion and she followed along. Her eyes never tore away from Peter’s. She looked just slightly more at ease now that she had someone next to her—someone she knew, rather than a stranger in a superhero costume.

It was minutes of silence, breathing, and starring as he knew Y/N was trying to piece together the main questions: What? Where? When? Why? And How?

Frankly, he didn't care, because revealing himself made her calm down. To Peter, that was more important than keeping his identity. He couldn't help but have a brief second of questioning if the great Tony Stark would do the same thing if he were put into a similar situation—assuming his identity was still a secret to the world.

“Y/N? Can I come closer?” He asked her and intently watched as she slowly nodded her head. So, sure enough, Peter took slow and small steps—not wanting to scare the girl any farther.

“Peter...wh-what?” She asked him but Peter was having none of it.

“Don't you dare worry about me, okay? I will answer all of your questions, I promise, but right now my main concern is getting you somewhere safe. That should be your priority, too.” He told her firmly as he looked around for a way to get her home. Peter figured she probably didn't want to walk in the state she was in and he wasn't sure he wanted her walking if whoever hurt her was still out there.

“I just want to get indoors….” She whispered as she hugged herself—purposely trying to avoid his gaze. Peter squatted down to get closer to her and to make himself be less intimidating.

“I know, Y/N. And I can get you there, but the easiest way is by using these.” He said as he help up his hand to show her his web shooters.

Y/N looked hesitant as Peter knew she realized that meant he would have carry her. If she fell, she would die. He watched as her face contorted from seemingly uncomfortable at the idea, to mildly alright with it. Peter stayed silent—waiting for the girls response. One way or another, he didn't care, but he was going to help get her safe.

“Yeah. Yeah, I think that'd be okay.” She said as she closed her eyes and bit her lip—nodding her head as if trying to convince herself more of the idea rather than telling Peter that she was okay with his plan.

“Y/N, I won't hurt you, okay? Ever. You can trust me.” He reassured her as he held out his hand to help her back up on her feet.

“I didn't think he would either, and here I am” She chuckled as she carefully put her hand in Peters to get up.

Peter wanted to know, wanted to know who would hurt someone so innocent—someone who was sometimes the only brightness in a world as dark as the one they live in. How could someone hurt the girl who always had a positive outlook and a smile on her face? How? But he decided getting her safe and comfortable first was more important than anything else he may want. So, he decided to explain what was going to happen in attempt to keep her calm.

“Okay, I'm going to grab you around you waist, and I need you told hold onto me. I'll swing us through the city and take you home, okay?”

She nodded along at his words, until he said the word “home”. Suddenly, her eyes became wide and the nodding stopped. The tears that seemed to have just stopped flowing had re-entered her eyes.

“Not home.” She choked out with fear.

Peter looked down at her with confusion. Why wouldn't she want to go home if that's where she felt more comfortable?

“Chris knows where I live and I’m scared he’s gonna try and come after me.” She whispered with shame—looking back to the ground.

Chris.

It took everything Peter had not to react. He had to repeat to himself that the one thing she needed right now was calmess and stability, and reacting in any manner to what she said would take him out of both those zones. Instead, he focused on trying to find another place for her to go.

“Okay...my place then.” He suggested. not really planning on giving her the option.  

“I don't want to bother Aunt May.” She said looking down with embarrassment on her face.

“Don't worry, she's working a night shift tonight. And even if she was home, I don't think she'd care.” Peter consoled her

“Okay….” She closed her eyes and nodded her head again.

“Okay. Now, I'm gonna need to put my mask back on, but you know it's me under here now, yeah? You're okay with that?” He asked. She nodded her head as as she did so he put back on his mask and the let Y/N wrap her arms around his neck, but not without Peter noticing how much she tensed up. He shot his web onto the building and pulled them up. He did so with a little more peace of mind knowing that Y/N did trust him enough to fly her across the city and go to his apartment.

Peter had never felt more stupid as he had realized he had forgotten that Chris was even around. Chris was Y/N’s boyfriend and had been for a few months. Peter had only met the guy twice. Other than Peter’s jealousy of him, Chris had seemed nothing but ordinary. He goes to a different school, and so he was never around and barley mentioned, as Y/N likes to keep her private life, well, private.

Of course it was him, he was the only other person in her life besides Peter's friends and Jack. Peter knew none of them had done it, but now the question is: why? What possessed someone to act out violently towards someone they are supposed to love unconditionally? Why would someone intentionally hurt anyone, especially someone as sweet and kind as Y/N?

Peter was deep in thought about Chris and more so how angry Peter was at him for hurting his best friend—his love. Only when he got to his apartment and let Y/N enter the room first he realized he was shaking in anger.

He watched her as she sat down on his bed, as she had done so many times before but this time everything was different, the air felt heavier and he had never seen the girl he loved so broken. She pulled her knees up to her chest and just started staring in front of her—sinking deep into thoughts that Peter knew were probably not good.

“Do you mind if I go change?” He asked realizing she would probably be more comfortable with him in normal clothes rather than his superhero costume.

He didn't hear a response, so he looked over to her and saw her very slowly shake her head one time. Quickly, Peter changed and grabbed a washrag and a glass of water for the girl that was sitting on his bed.

“I brought you water and thought maybe you'd want to clean off your face. Or I could...if you didn't feel up to it.” He offered in almost a whisper.

It took her a minute or so to even meet his eyes before she stood up. Slowly, Y/N shuffled herself over and grabbed the wash rag with a shaky hand. She met Peter’s eyes for only a second before facing her destination. But it was long enough for Peter to see the fear in her eyes before she walked over to the mirror in the hallway. The boy questioned whether or not the fear was for what had happened or for what she was about to look at in the mirror.

Peter let his eyes follow her figure as she made it to the mirror—watching as she took the washrag in both hands and held it rather delicately despite her shaking body. His eyes trailed up to hers, to see the girl looking intently at the washrag and breathing deeply.

Peter wanted to make sure that   Y/N knew he was there for her. So, he took a step closer—now standing in the doorframe—and was close enough to touch her, hold her if needed.

“Shit….” She breathed as she finally got the nerve to look up and see herself.

Peter watched intently as she wiped her face down, wincing everytime she hit an injury. He watched as the extent of what her pathetic excuses of a boyfriend had done to her was fully revealed.

Her eyes was purple and blue and starting to swell. Her cheek had a clear handprint on it and her lip was busted open, but had clotted up and was no longer bleeding. However, around her neck were bruises as well and on her wrists. Black and purple marks covered her—some more faded than others.

He could feel the tears in his eyes as he imagined the constant pain she must be in.

“I guess there's no hiding it from you, huh?” She whispered low enough he almost didn't hear her.

“Y/N….” Peter started trying to come up for words to console her—to give her words she needed to hear, but he fell short. He didn’t know if anything he could say would help her. The hero out of his costume continued to watch as she stared at herself in the mirror with a solemn expression—as if she was taking in the damage for the first time.

“My outside looks like how I constantly feel on the inside now…. A complete piece of shit.” She stated as he heard the heartbreaking sadness come back into her voice. Her eyes had not broken contact from her reflection in the mirror.

Peter could feel his heart hurting, and in that moment, he wanted nothing more than to make her stop looking at herself. But, he was still at a loss of words. Are there even any words he could say that would make her feel better? It seemed to him like words wouldn't be enough in this situation.

“Don't say that-” Peter started but was cut off.

“No, Peter, according to everyone left in my life who’s supposed to love me, I am. According to my own father I’m a piece of shit, because I killed my fucking mother. There's something you don't know, Peter. My mother’s dead and I fucking killed her and my father couldn't take it, and so here I am raising myself, but apparently I haven't done a good enough job. Now, according to Chris, I’m a piece of shit because I'm too embarrassed of him to bring home to meet my family, despite the fact that he's ‘the perfect boyfriend’ and has given me everything and put up with me for months.  But guess what! I don't have a fucking family to bring him home to, Peter, and that’s what I’m embarrassed about. It wasn't him...it’s myself that's embarrassing.” She ranted, letting her pent up feelings out. As the tears came back yet again, she did everything she could not to let them fall.

Peter knew Y/N wasn't yelling at him—she was yelling at life. He was still taken back by her sudden change in voice.

“You're not a piece of shit. You have done nothing wrong, Y/N. It's them. It’s them, not you!” Peter pleaded—trying to get her to understand his reasoning. She should push back their hateful words, because that's all they were. Peter wanted so badly for her to see herself as he saw her.

“Say that to my busted up face, Peter!” She cried raising a finger and pointing to her eye as he watched the tears she was holding back start to slide down her face.

“How long has he been like this?” Peter asked her in a whisper as he realized there was no consoling her with words right now.

“A little over a month.” She confessed—tearing her eyes away from his in embarrassment.

“You know you have to leave him, right?” Peter asked. He wanted to cringe as soon as it came out. He knew the question was a little far out there from their previous topic, but he had to make sure she knew that the first step to helping herself was leaving him. He wasn't asking for his own sake, no—he was asking for hers.

“What do you think all of this is from?” She dryly chuckled as she put her hand under her chin and attempted to give Peter as sarcastic smile but winced at the pain from her busted lip.

“I went to break up with him today, and had I not gotten the chance to run...I don't know if I’d still be here. I've never... I've never seen him so mad….” She confessed as Peter watched her recount the earlier hours, fear entered back into her eyes and even into her body as he saw her try and stop herself from shaking again.  

“Why didn't you come to anyone for help?” Peter asked her, practically pleading.

“If I had come for help, then you and everyone else would have thought I was weak...that I make bad decisions and I-I wanted so badly to prove to everyone…. To my brother…. T-To myself that I wasn't weak. But look at me, I’m a weak girl who’s been pretending to be strong and it's ripping me apart. It's so pathetic.” Y/N got out.

Immediately after her words were done, however, the girl’s emotions finally won the battle they've been having for hours. Suddenly, the tears became uncontrollable. As did her shaking and breathing. Y/N was sobbing, finally letting out everything she had been holding back and for who knows how long.

Peter couldn't help but be proud of her for admitting everything—for finally letting herself release some emotion. The boy was also rather grateful that he was there for her in this moment, because he’d rather make sure someone—like himself—would help her in any way he could through this rather than the girl have to deal with this all on her own. Peter decided to show that to her the best way he could, and so he walked up to her and pulled her into a hug. He let her crying into his shoulders, and after her initial flinch. she settled in and let Peter hold the broken girl. Slowly, he lowered her to the floor—running a hand through her hair—and rocking her back and forth like his uncle used to do with Peter when he was younger and would get upset about his parents.

“You are not weak, Y/N. You are so strong, I know you are, because you had the strength to get up and leave him tonight. You knew very well what he was doing was wrong. You are so strong and you don't need to prove that to me or anyone else because they already know it, okay? Anyone important in your life knows how strong you are, Y/N. And everything that happened to you? It only made you stronger, it made you who you are, made you into this incredible girl you are. The girl that Ned and Jack and Michelle and I already know you are.” He ranted, putting passion into every word just so she knew he meant everything. Peter continued to rock the girl and cradling her head into his shoulder, not caring about his shirt getting wet.  

She nodded her head into his shirt, but it did nothing to calm her as she continued to cry. This lasted about ten minutes before she finally calmed down enough to keep talking. Confessing something he assumed she had never told anyone else.

“I just wanted that feeling of being loved. That's why I started dating him...because he seemed to fill this hole that I have. This stupid need to have someone in my life who was willing to love me, to put up with me because everyone else I’ve loved has left me. I had no one, but with him. I finally felt like I had someone… But then he got so controlling and everything was suddenly my fault and the feeling of love turned into fear and when I realized that, I wanted him gone.” “You need to know that I will always love you, Y/N...no matter what, okay? Even if we fight, or we end up halfway around the world from each other, I will always be here for you and love you.” He said staring Y/N in the eyes, but the words brought a pain in his heart because he knew this wasn't the right kind of “I love you”’ he wanted to tell her. He wanted to confess everything he's been hiding from her but now was not the time. Now was not the time for surprises. In this moment, she needed the love of a friend, and that’s what he was ready to give her.

Y/N responded with another nod of her head and for a while the two sat in silence. Y/N had gotten off of Peter and while he wanted to keep holding her, he knew he should let her go. The two teenagers sat on opposite sides of the rather small hallway as she had her knees tucked into her chest and went back to her old trend of staring off into space while she waited for her crying to finish up. Peter had his knees bent and his arms resting on them as he tried so hard not to stare at Y/N. But as time went, on he realized he would catch himself staring more at her than away from her.

“‘Im sorry you're seeing my like this.” She spoke after a long while, for the first time all night. She sounded like she was almost back to her normal self.

“Don't apologize, Y/N. If anyone knows what you're going, through it’s me. If you ever need anything, Aunt May and I are here.” Peter told her truthfully. From now on, he would make sure Y/N was a priority to him.

“Thank you for everything tonight, Peter.” She nodded as she pushed herself up from the ground to stand up.

“Anything for you.” He spoke.

There was a small silence as he watched Y/N open and close her mouth a few times before finally deciding to speak.

“You know, you're the only other person since my brother died that makes me feel loved. Like...like I have some part of a family again. Like i'm not alone.” She quietly said and, for the first time that night, showed Peter a genuine smile.

Peter was in shock and didn't know what to say. His mind racing to come up with a response, but, sadly, he couldn't find one before the girl spoke up again.

“Is it okay if I sleep for a little bit? My head's killing me.” She laughed

“Yeah, take my bed.” He insisted trying hard not to focus on the confession that had just left her mouth.

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely I'll be up for a little while anyway. Wait…here, take this.” He said, handing her a cold washcloth, “I'll wake you up in 20 to take it off, okay?”

“Okay.” She smiled again as she turned to enter Peter's room. Peter watched her figure until his door completely shut and then he let out a sigh—hoping it would make him more relaxed. Instead, it did nothing.

Peter sat all night long in the main room—eating leftovers and attempting to focus on something that wasn't the broken girl who was fast asleep on his bed, or the guy who caused her harm. Hence the reason some old movie rerun was playing while Peter slowly peaked into his room to make sure Y/N was still sleeping and safe.

Peter had lost any sense of time, until the front door unlocked and opened—revealing Aunt May. Fresh off her night shift, looking more tired than usual, and also rather irritated to see her nephew wide awake on the couch.

Peter shot up and held a finger to his mouth eyes glancing towards his door in fear that any loud noise would wake up Y/N in the next room.

Peter could see the confusion that crossed Aunt May's face, and he figured that was okay as long; as she would hear him out and stay quiet. In order to help his case, Peter decided to take a load off of her chest by walking over and taking the bags out of her hands and putting them on the kitchen table. He heard her shut the door and lock it before meeting him in the living room.

Peter looked to his Aunt with pleading eyes and started to talk to her with a hushed voice

“Let me explain,” He started as he licked his lips out of nerves. The boy was trying to form together an explanation so the angry woman in front of him would understand.

“Y/N is in my room asleep right now.” He continued, deciding the best way to go about it was to jump right in. Peter watched as May’s confused face turned to irritation. She went to open her mouth to reprimand him, but Peter stopped her before she got a chance.

“No, please! Listen, May. I was walking home tonight and found her in an alleyway. She was crying, beaten, bruised, and terrified.” Peter paused as the images of her from earlier flashed through his head. For the first time all night, he let himself show how upset the event had made him as he felt the tears building up.

“Her boyfriend did it….” He choked out, and watched as Mays expression went from anger to shock and utter worry. Her eyes glanced over to his closed bedroom door. Peter, on the other hand, had to closed his eyes and clench his fists from the built up anger he was starting to let slip.

“She didn't want to go home in fear he'd come after her, so I brought her here.” Peter finished, staring his aunt in the eyes to make sure he would be able to read any negative reaction and stop her from kicking the girl out.

There was a silence that lingered in the air as Peter patiently waited and wactehd May as she seemed to struggle for words.

“Have you told whoever she lives with that she's here?” May asked as she ran her hands over her face.

“Yeah….” Peter answered somewhat truthfully, and almost in shock. His mind had run through about a million scenarios that May could have said, but that was not one of them.

“Alright…well, you have to sleep on the couch, got it?” She asked with the intent to be firm, but with the worry that covered her face, it was more of a plead.

“She can stay?” Peter asked.

“Of course, that girl can stay as long as she needs.” May responded with a nod as Peter inwardly cheered at his success.

“Th-Thank you!” Peter stuttered out, noticing the tears still in his eyes as continued to remember everything Y/N had gone through tonight.

“You're a good friend, Peter…. Is she the one you…?”  May trailed off. Peter knew it was because she didn't want to overstep her boundaries, but he also knew what she was asking.

“Yeah….” He whispered, tearing away eye contact from her and looking to the ground when he felt a few tears slip.

Tears for her. That had he stepped in earlier, he could have filled the hole for love she was talking about earlier. He would have filled it properly and cared for her—treated her with all the respect and love a girl as perfect as he saw her should be treated with. Peter wanted to tear himself apart for letting it happen—he felt it was his fault. He should have been there for her more than he was. But he wasn't.  

So now here she was, bloodied and broken in the next room, and it pained him. It hurt more than anything he could remember.

“This doesn't deserve to happen to anyone, Peter. I'm so sorry it happened to her.” May said as Peter felt himself being pulled into a hug as he let more tears slip.

“I've never wanted to hurt anyone more than I do now.” Peter confessed to his Aunt as he pulled out of a hug. The boy figured if anyone would understand, she would.

“I know, Peter...but you have to focus on her right now, okay? Being there for Y/N.”

Peter closed his eyes to prevent anymore tears from falling and nodded his head in understandment. He stayed like that for a few minutes as he calmed himself down. When he opened his eyes to wipe away an excess tear, he saw May looking like she was having an internal debate with herself.

“Go to bed, May. I’ll be alright.” Peter reassured her as he nodded towards her bedroom.

“Are you sure?” She asked as a look of guilt crossed her face.

“Yeah, I promise.” He nodded with a smile for assurance. A small smile, because that's all he could muster, but it was better than nothing in his mind.

He watched as May made her way towards her room and almost entered entirely before stopping and turning around.

“Is she okay?”

Peter thought for a minute debating on how he should answer that question—or even if he should answer that question.