Chapter Text
If Peter had to recap his life, it would be in flashes. He supposed that's all life was. When all was said and done, life was just flashes and crumbs of moments and events, all held together with will, hope, and a lot of Elmers glue.
Peter went through these flashes now. Blurs of colors and sounds, spinning too fast to be comprehended.
A dark blue memory, sadness filling it, but inside that sadness and blue was a bit of red. Red and orange slowly leaking out. Anger buried deep inside that overwhelming sadness. No voices were present but he could hear a blaring alarm. Or maybe it was a siren. A shadowy figure on the ground. Though that was all. It’s not like Peter could remember the memory, though he knew it was sad.
He saw another flash. A light purple memory, fear and nervousness. A caution towards the unknown and upcoming. Bright flashes of yellow shown though. Sparkles of hope, of happiness, pushing through. A feeling like someone actually cares. One strong voice calling out, maybe to Peter. He didn’t know, couldn’t remember.
Some flashes were weak, colors dull with age. Wisps of colored smoke and barely audible peeps of voices. Others were vibrant, full of overwhelming sounds and lights. Colors flashing, almost blinding, and voices blaring, deafening. None of it was clear, he’s unable to remember any, except one. The most recent memory, the closest and clearest flash.
A man, dressed strangely in blue with a red cape, stood close. He looked directly at Peter. In the background stood a girl and boy about his age. Further stood two men, older than Peter though not by much. The two young men had red surrounding them, though whether it was their outfit or mood, Peter couldn’t tell. It was the clearest memory but still blurry. It was the loudest but still distorted.
Peter can’t really remember that memory, all he knows is that he was close to the two kids, well at least he thinks he was. There’s an air of familiarity surrounding them. A light blue that blends into green, a nice color.
He doesn't remember the scene, doesn't remember what was said. He doesn’t know the names of these people and can't envision their faces. All he knows is that this scene, this flash, this memory, is real. It happened. It was likely the last thing that happened before, well whatever this was. Whatever this white was. The feeling of flying through the air, almost like a roller coaster, wind whipping in his face, the feeling of defying gravity.
Peter just looked around. He was still in the air, wind still whipping and colors still flashing. He watched as the white slowly faded into grey then black.
When Peter woke, there was only one thought in his mind.
Danger!
Thanks Spidey sense. He thought, Super helpful.
Then he noticed the burning. The burning from deep within. It started from deep within his chest, inside his ribcage. From his lungs, a burning sensation that traveled up his airway to his throat, mouth, and nose. Like when water goes up your nose, only 5 million times more painful. Then the burning traveled. It seemed to travel though his veins, directly from his chest, to his limbs, then back straight into his heart.
It was cold, like ice daggers repeatedly stabbing into him. But it was also hot, burning almost. The heat like the metal part of the seatbelt when you get into a car on a warm summer day. It was just pain.
Oh, and also the green. The green everywhere, like taking a dip in a pool of lime kool aid. Though, the green was slowly fading. All the pain was, pain and green slowly leaking out until it was just darkness.
He opened his eyes again to the green. He felt the burning appear again, the green take over until that was all he could see, could feel.
He struggled when the burning intensified, fought to break free, but his movements were sluggish, almost like he was underwater. He soon grew tired, with no oxygen getting to his lungs and his movements making no progress, the black soon came back.
He repeated that cycle, the in and out of consciousness. The green and burning to the black nothingness. He keeps trying to break free, to move out. He must be in some kind of container, or a very deep pool. He can’t seem to swim up which is why he was leaning more towards the container idea. The problem was that he hadn’t yet been able to find a wall. A connection to the outside world, the world beyond the green, green, green. He kept trying. It was a never ending cycle. Wake up to green, move in some direction, he's gone in all of them at this point, then slowly fade back into black. Green, move, black. Green, move, black. A never ending cycle.
Peter didn’t know how many times the cycle had repeated. He stopped counting after 15, not caring enough to put energy into it. Well, Peter didn’t know what number attempt it was, but it was long after attempt 15 when he felt a surface. A smooth wall with a slight curve was about a foot in front of him. He was so close, he could reach out and grab it. But then, as always, the dark nothingness overtook him.
When Peter next opened his eyes to the green, he immediately put his hands in front of him and felt the wall. Maybe he could break it, maybe. So he raised his hand and curled it into a fist.
I know that I don’t have the best luck, but whoever is out there, please let this work
Peter struck his fist into the wall. It didn’t move, didn’t make a sound. So Peter tried again. He raised his fist and stuck again, though it was weaker, the nothingness slowly overtaking again. Peter struck a third time, then the darkness overtook him.
When Peter next opened his eyes, he immediately moved over to the wall and started hitting it again and again. He could feel the wall giving, though just a bit. Darkness kept overtaking him, causing progress to be slow, but he kept going. He just wants to get out of the painful green, the burning.
Peter raised his fist again, as darkness almost overtook, and hit the wall. The wall shattered and he could feel the green draining out as everything went to black.
When Peter next opened his eyes, it wasn’t to the green. Thank the gods. Peter was done with the color green. If he went a whole lifetime without ever seeing it again, that would be fine with him. Peter pushed himself up and realized he was on the floor of… somewhere. He actually didn’t know where he was. He could feel the slippery green and the cold concrete beneath his hands and soaking into the holes on his pants. He lifted his head further, and looked around the small room. Room wasn’t quite correct. It looked like the insides of an old sewer pipe. Mold grew on the wall and it had a distinct scent of sewage.
Peter turned to face where he had come from. He saw a giant glass tube that had the green dripping out. It had a crack in the middle, and he supposed that's where he exited the tube from. Damn, it had taken him that long to break through glass. It wasn’t even thick. Peter looked down at his hands and realized he had glass shards sticking out of them. As he looked around, he realized glass littered the ground surrounding his body, and bare feet. Damn it. He really did not want to walk over glass.
Peter slowly got to his feet. It had taken some tries, his legs didn’t seem to want to support his legs, but eventually he got onto his feet. He tried, key word being tried, to carefully step around the shards. Though his legs would cooperate. He felt off, like his spatial awareness was completely off. He tried his best not to step on the glass shards, but when he made it out of the green pooling on the ground and the glass circle, he could see he hadn’t been very successful. He carefully sat against the sloping wall of the sewer pipe, he was pretty sure it was a sewer pipe, and inspected his feet. Damn, there were pieces deep in his feet.
“Well.” Peter said out loud to himself, “That's future Peter’s problem.”
Peter was exhausted, and couldn’t care enough to try to dig all the tiny shards out of his hands and feet. That would be a problem for tomorrow. Peter leaned back against the curved wall, not quite sitting up and not quite laying down. Peter’s thoughts wandered to the days. What a crazy day it had been. Well he supposed it might have been multiple days. He didn’t know how many times darkness had overtaken him, didn’t know how long for. And with that cheery thought, Peter drifted off to sleep.