He was breathing heavy. On the verge of explosion, if that flying tray hadn't already been the trigger. Yet maybe because Sora didn't explode with him, that he stayed still and quiet on the bed, gave him nothing to counteract - that put a strange hold on Peter. Every muscle was pulled taut and he couldn't move an inch, except that he was moving. Breathing with his whole body, and gasping open mouthed but unable to will himself to punch through the wall or rip the desks apart like he wanted to.
And when Sora spoke, it was equally as hypnotic. Soft and calm. The opposite of anything Peter was expecting at this point.
"Darkness?" he repeated, bewildered. It sounded...vague. At best. But certain parts stuck, and maybe this was a literal thing for Sora and Peter wasn't far off the mark when he was imagining the Nothing from the Neverending Story swooping in and sucking worlds dry. Or even the suit - inky black tendrils swirling around a person, engulfing them completely, turning them into ravenous beasts.
It was making too much sense. Peter wavered on the spot, reaching up to clutch at his head and sinking. Things felt better when he hit the floor and felt the bed post dig into his back, his knees at his chest and protecting his face.
"I know..." The vitriol had been strained from his voice and left a pathetic little warble behind. "I know. I'm sorry, but I just...I want it to stop. I didn't want this."
Nick Fury had been convinced this was exactly what would happen. That Peter would snap and become just as bad as Norman, as Doom or Magneto and dedicate his life to fucking up the world just like they did. But he hadn't snapped then. Things had been bad, but he hadn't snapped. He didn't see anyone else flipping out like he did, either. Maybe a few tears from Claire, maybe some mourning from Sam and the rest, and Scott had been in dire enough straights to try and beat the crap out of him the other night. But now he was...he couldn't...
"I don't want him to be waiting for me," Peter said quietly. "I want him back." He looked up at Sora then. Puzzled. To be perfectly honest, he couldn't remember a single day here where he hadn't seen that spikey hair sticking out of the crowd in the cafeteria, wandering around Doyleton or the Sun Room. He'd even seen him at night. "How long have you - you're still sane. I don't know why or how, but you've been here forever. Haven't you?"
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And when Sora spoke, it was equally as hypnotic. Soft and calm. The opposite of anything Peter was expecting at this point.
"Darkness?" he repeated, bewildered. It sounded...vague. At best. But certain parts stuck, and maybe this was a literal thing for Sora and Peter wasn't far off the mark when he was imagining the Nothing from the Neverending Story swooping in and sucking worlds dry. Or even the suit - inky black tendrils swirling around a person, engulfing them completely, turning them into ravenous beasts.
It was making too much sense. Peter wavered on the spot, reaching up to clutch at his head and sinking. Things felt better when he hit the floor and felt the bed post dig into his back, his knees at his chest and protecting his face.
"I know..." The vitriol had been strained from his voice and left a pathetic little warble behind. "I know. I'm sorry, but I just...I want it to stop. I didn't want this."
Nick Fury had been convinced this was exactly what would happen. That Peter would snap and become just as bad as Norman, as Doom or Magneto and dedicate his life to fucking up the world just like they did. But he hadn't snapped then. Things had been bad, but he hadn't snapped. He didn't see anyone else flipping out like he did, either. Maybe a few tears from Claire, maybe some mourning from Sam and the rest, and Scott had been in dire enough straights to try and beat the crap out of him the other night. But now he was...he couldn't...
"I don't want him to be waiting for me," Peter said quietly. "I want him back." He looked up at Sora then. Puzzled. To be perfectly honest, he couldn't remember a single day here where he hadn't seen that spikey hair sticking out of the crowd in the cafeteria, wandering around Doyleton or the Sun Room. He'd even seen him at night. "How long have you - you're still sane. I don't know why or how, but you've been here forever. Haven't you?"