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Harry stared at the wall for what must’ve been hours after he first woke up. He was afraid to move, his leg and arm were tingling, and he felt like if he dared move an inch the sharp pain would shoot through his body again. He knew it was a nightmare, but at the same time, it wasn’t. The events were all too real, him and Peter arguing, Peter kicking him off the building while being controlled by Otto, his arm being broken while being thrown around by Adrian Toomes, all of these had happened and he couldn’t chase the memories away. The betrayal and the fear that had overcome him, and the sickening hope his father was alive only to be ripped away by Toomes when the mask came off. The lingering feeling that his father was still out there.
He wanted to close his eyes. He wanted to stop crying. He wanted to move. But he just couldn’t.
A dark chill shuttered through him that almost felt like ice being drug along his spine. He shot up in a cold panic, sweating violently as he reached for his back, swatting away whatever had caused the feeling. Nothing was there though. The tingling on his face, arm, legs, it didn’t go away, but no pain appeared either. He stayed there, gasping for air as he furiously wiped away the tears, trying to recollect himself, before throwing the covers off and running to his closet.
He pulled on a jacket and a pair of socks and shoes, grabbing his phone as an afterthought, before quickly leaving his room and exiting. He speed-walked, taking the elevator and almost ran to the subway, not missing the glances of people confused as to why he was running down the road in pajamas. He managed to slip into the subway doors just before they closed and let out a tense sigh. He refused to sit down and instead clutched the pole and stood anxiously, occasionally stepping to hold another pole, just needing to distract his mind.
After too long, the train stopped at Queens and Harry was quick to run out, sprinting full speed to Peter’s house. As he ran, the cold spring air whipped his face, prompting fresh tears to spring from his eyes. He stared at the door, panting heavily, before knocking. There was no reply. More tears sprung in his eyes and he couldn’t stop them from flowing down his face. He couldn’t be alone, not right now. He needed someone. But what did he expect? Peter to wait up all night to help him when he didn’t even know what was happening? Of course not. He was asleep, or maybe he was off doing vigilante things. He didn’t know. He opened the fence door and moved to the backyard, grabbing the small stash of pebbles he had gathered over the course of a few years. He tossed one in the air experimentally, before throwing it at the window. He repeated the process for a good few minutes before hearing a knock in return. Peter was awake.
He quickly gathered the tossed pebbles, knowing that most of them were gone at this point, and rushed to the front door, knocking. His tears had stopped but there was no doubt he looked like a mess. He tried to clean up slightly but gave up when he heard slow footsteps approach the door. He took a deep, shuddery breath when the door opened. It was Peter, he had a blanket thrown over his shoulders and he looked tired. “Harry, do you know what time i-” He stopped mid-sentence when he saw Harry. “Oh my god, Harry are you okay?” He immediately asked, stepping forward and grabbing Harry’s face.
Harry sniffed and forced a smile. “I-I can’t sleep, can I stay here?”
Peter nodded. “Of course, get in here you big doof.” He replied, moving out of the way.
Harry stepped in and felt Peter wrap his arms around him after closing the door. “Are you okay, Harry? What happened?”
Harry sniffed and buried his face in Peter’s shoulder. “I had a nightmare and… and I just…” His throat closed up and felt his eyes close as he began to shake. “I’m sorry I just…”
Peter rubbed his back and hushed him softly. “Shhh, sh sh shhh, it’s okay, it’s okay. Come on, come upstairs.” He murmured softly.
Harry let Peter lead him up the stairs as he cried quietly. He entered Peter’s bedroom and heard the door close and sat down on the bed, quickly joined by Peter. He felt Peter cup his face and turn his eyes to him. “Harry, what’s wrong?” He asked quietly, wiping his tears away.
Harry sniffed quietly and leaned into Peter’s hands. “It’s just… I just had a bad dream.” He murmured, feeling Peter rub his cheeks with his thumb softly.
“My poor baby…” Peter murmured, leaning forward and kissing his nose softly. “Well, I’m here now and I’ll chase all those bad dreams away.”
Harry smiled up at Peter. “Are you sure it’s okay for me to stay here?”
“Of course, Harry. Now get in here, I was sleeping for once.”
Harry nodded, and for the first time in a long while, he let Peter tend to his emotional wounds.
.oOo.oOo.oOo.
Harry woke up to Peter shuffling underneath him. He had curled up into a tight ball and rested his head on Peter’s chest. Usually, it was the other way around, but this felt strangely comforting. He opened his eyes slowly to see Peter attempting to shimmy his way out from under Harry. Harry let out a small whine. “Where are you going?”
Peter immediately stopped and looked down. He cursed softly. “Sorry, Har. I didn’t mean to wake you,”
Harry shrugged and tightened his grip around Peter, locking him in place. “It’s okay, where are you going?”
Peter huffed and laid back down. “I was gonna go get us some breakfast, I’m hungry.”
Harry sighed. “Can’t you stay a little longer?”
Peter glared. “I’m hungry,”
“And I’m comfortable. I always let you stay sleeping on me.”
Peter hesitated and mumbled something quietly. “Fine, but only a few minutes.”
Harry smiled. “A few minutes is all I need.”