chapter two:

Caelum woke up what felt like an hour later laying on the couch. His eyes were heavy and crusted over. His mouth tasted dry and his throat was sore. His right eye was irritated and stung slightly when he tried to open it.

He blinked, rubbing his face and looking around. The room was quiet, the curtains drawn and the lights out. The house was dark and rich with night. Caelum slowly sat up, his back throbbed as he moved, as if someone had beat him.

Caelum frowned, remembering that someone had beat him. The man with the covered face and white eyes, akin to his own, on the sidewalk. His grimy breath and cheap, plastic clothes that smelled of musk and body odor. Caelum remembered his hoarse, raspy voice, and the deranged way he spoke to him. He felt the dull nails that gripped his arm, slicing into his skin. He heard the way he whispered down his ear, his tongue moving around his mouth, licking his lips in forbidden desire.

Chills ran down his sore spine.

Caelum moved, suddenly deciding that sitting in the dark wasn't going to improve upon his sanity. He shuffled towards the wall, his feet burned with pins and needles and his body aching with every step. He stumbled into the wall, his hand fumbling on an object causing it to slip in the darkness. He barely managed to catch it before it hit the ground, probably to be helplessly broken.

Caelum held onto it, holding it in his right hand as he continued to searched for a light switch with his left. He found it and yawned, rubbing his eyes and flickered it on.

DOZENS OF MEN WITH THE COVERED FACES STARED BACK, SITTING IN EVERY PLACE IMAGINABLE, EYES GLEAMING WHITE AND FOLLOWING HIM.

Caelum let out a cry of alarm, dropping the object in his hand, stumbling away so his back hit the wall. The object, apparently glass, shattered on impact with the ground and his bare feet sliced the side of a serrated edge. Caelum blinked several times and rubbed his eyes, his chest heaving with sudden panic and foot stinging in pain.

When he opened his eyes and focused, the faces were gone and the room was empty. His scarred eye began to twitch, and he felt the early stages of it beginning to burn.

Caelum swallowed, looking around and slowly calming down. He was the only one in the room. The phantom faces had disappeared.

At his feet, the vase was in pieces and blood smeared the wooden floor. One particular shard mixed with the blood, coating it a mauve colour with some design he didn't care for. Footsteps came down the hall and frantically into the room. Peter stood in the threshold, looking alarmed and wearing his fleece Iron Man pajamas and cheap white slippers.

“Cael?” He said softly, and Caelum immediately straightened up, trying to not show his shaking hands and frantically beating heart. “Are. . . are you―?”

“I'm fine,” he lied, his eyes dancing across the room where the faces once stood, staring at him. He bent down instead, bringing the sleeve of his ― no, Peter's ― shirt down to his hand, and gently picking up the biggest chunks closest to him. His hands shook so hard that it made it difficult to keep steady grip.

He swallowed, closing his eyes, the faces of the men burned into his eyelids. Their white eyes unblinking and glowed dangerously. What the hell was going on with him? Was this because of the man on the sidewalk? Why was his eye burning?

“Cael. . .” Peter said again, more gently and concerned. He caught sight of his foot and managed to look even more concerned, "You're bleeding."

“It's nothing. I–I had a nightmare,” he murmured, inhaling, trying to steady his heart.

“You had a nightmare?”

“Yes―”

“―Eight feet from the couch?” Peter finished and Caelum flinched slightly.

“I moved," he shrugged, and quietly added. “I don't wanna talk about it."

Peter watched him fiddle with the glass pieces before turning and going to the kitchen. He came back with a broom, dustpan, and the first-aid kit. He gently shooed Caelum away and handed him the kit.

Caelum frowned, but moved anyway, taking the case from him and beginning to wrap up his foot, and his hands. The tips of his fingers held small cuts from the jagged edges. Blood well up in small bubbles. The sight of the burgundy liquid somehow eased his still racing heart. He was alive, his heart was beating, he still had blood running through his veins.

“Do you want to talk about what happened while you were coming home?” Peter asked quietly, sweeping the glass into a trash bin.

Caelum bit his lip, looking up at the boy. He wasn't ready to talk about the man with the covered face yet. It was too recent, too fresh in his mind. He got the stupid idea that if he mentioned the man again, then he would return. It was unrealistic and silly, and yet it made his heart skip a beat.

“There was a woman about to get. . . assaulted,” Caelum replied truthfully. “I stopped it.”

“You did?” Caelum gave a small nod and Peter looked at him, shocked. “Did. . . Did anything. . . Did they try to. . .?”

“Not with me, no,” he sniffed, sticking his bleeding finger in his mouth, not bothering to waste a band-aid on it. If his mother had seen him do this, she’d throw a fit. “I, uh, possessed him. Managed to render him unconscious and made sure he'd be secured. I guess. . . the prospect of it happening again, it–it scared me? Maybe I saw the woman and I put myself in her shoes.”

“I'm sorry, Cael,” Peter said honestly, and Caelum shrugged, rubbing his arms, looking down.

“It doesn't matter, he's gone now, so I shouldn't care, right?” Slowly, Peter came to his side, wrapping his arms around him and pulling him into a tight hug.

Caelum felt bad for lying to his boyfriend, even if it was a half-lie. He usually told Peter everything, but this man that had followed him, even to his dreams, unsettled him to the bone. It made him feel sicker than anything Davis could have done to him.

What if they went after his brothers? Or Peter? What did they want from him? He was so confused and scared and nothing was making sense right now.

He held onto Peter tighter, pressing his face into his shirt, breathing him in slowly. “It's okay if you're not okay, Cael,” Peter whispered, and Caelum nodded absently. “But, please, just talk to me if you aren't. I don't. . . I don't want you to just. . . do that thing where you put on this cold front and don't talk about anything. I don't like that.”

Caelum chuckled halfheartedly. pulling away to look at Peter. He took in his chocolate eyes, mousy dark hair, sugar cookie coloured skin, and lips pink from nervous biting. He looked at his soft, warm eyes, smiled, and lied straight to his face.

“I will. I tell you everything.”

° · ° · ° · °

School dragged on and on the next day, and Caelum couldn't stand it. May had offered that he should stay home, if he wasn't feeling up to the task of school. Caelum, although flattered at her suggestion, declined and went to school with Peter.

May was big on mental health and the like. Although Caelum was aware of it, he didn't really regard it as something he needed. It may have been a bad trait inherited from his parents, but they had never truly taken mental health into account with their children. They never taught him, the Ghost, or his brothers anything about mental health, or how to deal with it. He had a sneaking suspicion that his father didn't even believe in it, with the exception of extreme cases. Like the 'gays'.

So, Caelum powered on, going to school and spending every second wishing he was home already. The events from the previous night still edging at the corners of his consciousness and keeping him on his toes, but he suppressed it. This manifested into a deep-seated exhaustion that left him irritable.

Maybe it was the cold that made him feel this way. The subtle change of leaves that followed September into the long awaited month of October, may have caused a moodiness to grow in him. If this were so, then the icy winds and frosty grounds didn't help his mood at all.

He huffed, glancing out the window and spotting a squirrel, bouncing around with another, playing in the chill despite the frozen temperature.

He sighed softly and went back to his work, an essay they had ten minutes left to complete. He nearly finished his closing statement and took the rest of his time proofreading.

Eventually, class was over, he had finished his essay and turned it in for grading. Those unlucky enough not to be done would likely be finishing it at two AM tonight.

Peter met up with him on his way to his next period ― lunch. He used to spend the hour doing schoolwork. Last year he couldn't afford such a luxury as lunch, but this year he didn't have to pay for it. On top of that, Peter would force him to eat.

“Hey,” Peter grinned. Caelum was happy to see his boyfriend’s face, it was a good reprieve from the exhausting day ― that wasn’t even half over. “How was English?"

“Boring,” Caelum drawled, shifting his bag. “We watched a video, had a short lecture, and then an essay.” He huffed, rubbing his arms, “I dunno, I've been tired all day.”

“Well, good news,” Ned smirked. “Today, were having pizza for lunch!”

“Don't they have pizza every day?” Caelum asked, frowning. He only ate the salads and occasionally a fruit ― he was a vegetarian.

“Yeah, but this time, I heard, there's sausage pizza!” Caelum couldn't help but smile. Ned somehow had the ability to do that, and it helped, especially on days like these.

They made their way to the cafeteria, Caelum immediately trying to go sit down, but Peter dragged him up. “Nope, not skipping today.”

“I get lunch everyday,” Caelum complained, he hated having to wait in the god awful line. It was much easier to just sit down, he could finish a lot of work, and it wasn't like there were a lot of people who got the vegetarian options. They wouldn't be running out anytime soon.

“Nope,” Peter said again, and Caelum groaned, pouting at him. Peter grinned, “You'll just have to suffer like the rest of us.”

“I hate you, Parker.”

“No, you don't,” Peter's eyes twinkled with mischief and in that moment Caelum wanted to kiss him. He leaned forward, as if he were going to, but then realized that they were in the cafeteria, surrounded by people.

His father's words crept at his spine, whispering in his ear, “Fucking faggot!”

Caelum moved away, his mouth dry and eyes downcast, “I'm actually not feeling good. I'm gonna sit this one out.”

“Cael―?”

“I'll see you two at the table,” he smiled, it was a bit broken and awkward, as he turned to find a place to sit. Luckily, since the majority of the cafeteria's occupants were waiting in line to eat, there were plenty of seats available.

He sat down at a table near the exit, pulling out his bag and starting on his first period math homework. Ten minutes later, Peter and Ned joined him. “―It’s gonna look so cool! Wanna finish it tonight?!”

“Finish what tonight?” Caelum asked, as Peter sat down, handing an apple and a banana to Caelum ― who was going to eat one of those things.

“I just got a limited edition Death Star Lego set!” Ned looked absolutely fanatic with excitement. “There's only like a thousand out there! I nearly didn't get it too, it sold out in like two minutes. It just came in last night, come on Peter, you would love it!”

“I can't, Ned, I've been telling you ― Stark Internship," Peter frowned, taking a bite of his pizza. He then glared at Caelum until he bit into his apple as well.

“You can't take a day off?” Caelum asked. He knew full well that Peter's 'Stark Internship’ was really him patrolling as Spider-Man around Queens and the better part of the city. Caelum didn't like how he managed his life as Peter and as Spider-Man. He prioritized sometimes Spider-Man over his personal life, opting out of things Peter usually would do. He wondered if he could talk to Tony freaking Stark over it later.

“I can't,” Peter frowned, “I don't want to ruin the Internship, if some―if he needs me and I'm not there to help. . .!”

“Okay, okay,” Ned sighed, this was how he dealt with it all the time ― no questions asked, just acceptance. Ned was a good friend, but he was also a bit of a pushover when it came to Peter. It wasn’t fair to him that Peter spent every night swinging in a skin-tight suit. He deserved better.

“Why don't you come over anyway, Ned?” Caelum offered, twisting the apple in his hand. “I'm sure Peter will be back in time to help finish, and I get off work at nine, but I'll see if I can get off earlier.”

Ned beamed and Caelum grinned, taking a bite of his apple. The two began to talk again, and he went back to his homework, calculating trinomials easily. Then, another bit of conversation caught his ear. “There she is!”

He frowned, but ignored it. “Did Liz get a new top?”

Caelum pried his eyes away to see what was happening. Ned and Peter were staring at Elizabeth Allen as she put up the Homecoming banner, which was quickly approaching. He frowned, glancing back at the boys, who still hadn't stop staring. “No, we've seen it before, just never with that skirt.”

Caelum's eyes narrowed, he had half the mind not to possess the girl and let her fall off a ten-foot ladder. “Would you please stop drooling over her?” He snapped, anger igniting in him. “It's creepy.”

“We weren't―” Peter tried to defend, but Michelle Jones, who had been sitting at the end of the table, reading the same book she was yesterday, spoke up.

“Yeah, you were,” she drawled in her usual bored tone. "You guys are losers.”

“We’re not losers,” Peter defended and turned to Caelum. “And we weren't drooling ― we were simply. . . observing.”

“Bold-ass liar,” Caelum deadpanned and Peter went red. “If you like checking her out all that much, then why don't you just ask her to homecoming? I'm sure she would love that.” Suddenly, a dark cruelty edged at his anger. “‘Oh, I've seen you watching me, Peter!’” He put on a high voice, and Peter visibly cringed. “‘Ogling my outfits and ass! I would love to go to homecoming with you!’”

“Liz doesn't sound like that,” Peter glared, “Stop it.”

Caelum rolled his eyes, putting his stuff into his backpack. “Prove me wrong, Parker.” He grabbed his bag and stood.

“Where are you going?” Ned asked.

“Library. I need a break.” With that, he left, sending one final, subtle glare to Elizabeth and disappearing down the hall.

° · ° · ° · °

Caelum went to his locker, pulling out the books he would need for the next period, and leaving the others there. When he closed the door, Flash Thompson was standing behind it.

Caelum suddenly got a vision of Davis lurking around the locker, “We need to discuss your financials, Mr. Forest.”

His blood ran cold and Flash saw that he had scared him. He scoffed, “Don't be such a pussy, Forest.”

Irritation gripped him, his heart rate returning to normal after the Davis scare. “What do you want, Eugene? How long have you been stand there like an extra in West Side Story?”

Flash glared in anger, “I want you to get off the decathlon team,” he growled. Caelum rose an eyebrow, leaning back.

“Well, you must have quite the convincing argument then.”

Flash sneered, “You're a dumbass! You're not smart enough for the team, I honestly don't even know why they let a shitty kid like you back in the school.”

“I don't see how this relates to the decathlon team.”

"You know you shouldn't be there anyway, what did you do, give Harrington a blowjob?”

Caelum rolled his eyes, “What are you getting at, Eugene? Nothing you say will make me quit the decathlon team. You're wasting both of our time.”

“What seems to be the issue here?” Caelum looked up, annoyed that a teacher had to get involved in something so trivial.

Then, he froze, his eyes widening and blood running cold. The man stood just behind Flash and had white, colourless eyes like his. The bottom half of his face was visible, but it looked like it was covered in chemical burns. The skin was peeling in places and discoloured in others.

Caelum's entire body shook as he stepped back. Flash looked confused, “Who are you?” He asked, nose upturned and confused.

“Substitute teacher for Ms. Warren today,” He smiled eerily, staring down at Caelum. He didn't sound like the man from last night, but he had the same face. If the bottom half was his face covered, then he would have the same look too. “She had a rather unfortunate accident.”

Flash rose an eyebrow, “What happened to your face?”

The man looked a bit confused. Then, he laughed, it was a grating noise, deep and unsettling. Caelum took an unconscious step back, not wanting to hear that awful noise again. “The result of being foolhardy in a dangerous environment,” He gave a crooked grin, revealing a gap in between his yellowed teeth.

Caelum tried not to gag, remembering how quickly, how easily, those hands gripped his arm and threw him against the brick wall. “But, thanks for reminding me.” He moved his hands ― which had been covered by black leather gloves ― and brought up a white, surgeon’s mask. Suddenly, the look fell in, bottom half of his face covered, white eyes, disheveled look. Caelum felt ill. “Lunch should be ending any minute now, do we need to report this to Principal Morita, or can we settle this dispute peacefully?”

Caelum’s stomach twisted at the thought of having to go to the Principal’s office again, especially without Peter to anchor him. “No, sir,” He said, closing his locker and holding his books tight.

“I agree,” Flash said, smirking slightly at Caelum, probably mistaking his inherent fear for subservience. “See you around, Algol.” The name made him flinch, despite himself, as the boy moved to leave. Caelum went to follow him, but then the man placed his hand on his shoulder.

Caelum bit his tongue to keep himself from screaming. “I was wondering,” The man spoke, as Caelum tried to take his shoulder from his grip, his hands trembling. He couldn’t the man was too strong. “If you wouldn’t mind speaking with me after school? We need to have a discussion.”

God, he was going to be sick.

“I. . .I, uh,” He sniffed, shoving his clammy hands into his pockets. “I have to get home early, I. . . I have an early shift at work, and I can’t really afford to miss it, and―”

“I’ll reimburse you,” The man smiled. He felt the vomit rise in his throat, he couldn’t stop thinking about Davis. “I’m sure it’s more than whatever you’d be making at that bodega.”

He knew where he worked. He knew where he worked ― did he know where he lived? Did he know where his brothers lived? He had to get away from this man.

He turned to look him in the eye, and blinked. Suddenly, there was a bright, white light, and Caelum’s face burned in pain. He let out a scream, and the man let him go. He gripped his eye, stumbling back, tripping on his on feet. He fell down painfully, tears burned his eyes as he hissed, as he trembled on the ground. He heard footsteps coming towards him and squatting next to him. Caelum let out a whimper, trying to get away, but the man held unto his arm, forcing his hands away from his eye easily.

Caelum kept his eyes closed as the man asked him softly, “Cute, but that won’t work on me.” He leaned close, his grimy breath, laced with the scent of old coffee as he whispered in his ear. The hair on the back of his neck stood to attention and his heart stilled, “But, we can fix that for you.”

The man patted the side of his arm, and stood, “Nice talk, Mr. Forest, I’ll see you this afternoon.” The way he said it, it held a finality, there was no arguing it. Caelum was going to see the man again this afternoon.

The bell rang, letting the participants of lunch. Caelum tried to get to his feet, but his entire body was in pain, as if he were paralyzed, He heard footsteps running down the hall, probably some eager freshman, but then Peter skidded around the corner, spotting him on the ground.

“Shit!” He hissed, racing over and grabbing him underneath his arm. Every single inch of his body burned in pain and he let out a sob. “Shh, shh, I know, shh,” he hushed, leaving his bag on the ground, probably to be taking into Lost-and-Found later. He led him to the bathroom down a secluded hallway near the gym ― usually unoccupied due to how much farther away it was from the center of activity.

Peter let him inside a stall and Caelum fell on the ground, letting out another sob, tears leaked out of the edges of his eyes despite how tightly shut they were. “God, what happened? My spidey-senses have been going off for like ever, and I couldn’t get out of the cafeteria soon enough and―oh god!” He knelt before him as Caelum slowly, hesitantly, cracked his eyes open.

“I. . . I―” he trembled, trying to get his speech and breathing ― and literally every other function of his being ― under control.

“Jesus Christ, your eye, oh my god,” Peter’s hands shook as he brought them to the sides of his face, gently wiping at his right eye, his fingers coming back with blood. Caelum stared at his hands, just as shocked as Peter was. “What happened? Did someone hit you?”

He swallowed and tried to speak again, slowly and with effort. “T. . . Teacher, I. . . I think, he. . . he was a sub. . . and. . . ugh. . .” he breathed, closing his eyes, trying to hold back the biting pain. “He had white eyes, Flash. . . we. . .”

“We gotta get you to the nurse, or the hospital! Why isn’t the blood stopping?!” He turned around, yanking a bunch of sandpaper coarse toilet paper off the roll and dabbing at his face with it. Caelum hissed, closing his eyes. “No, don’t do that ― it could make it worse. How did this happen? Geez, there’s so much. . .”

“I. . . I tried to possess him,” Caelum inhaled, “Then. . . there was this bright light, and I. . . I. . . god, it hurt so bad.” He whined, trying to get his breathing under control. He was speaking better and the pain was ebbing away a little.

“Did anyone see?” Peter asked, seriously.

“I don't. . . I don’t think so. . .” He murmured, breathing more steadily. “I. . . I think I’m better now. . .” He gently took the toilet paper and held it to his bleeding eye. Peter looked infinitely more worried. “I’m good. . . I’ll just. . . skip next period and tell Mr. Garrison that I felt sick.”

“He’d ask for a nurse slip,” Peter said and Caelum gave him a slight shrug ― and hiding the wince that came from it.

“I copied a few a while back ― I can forge Mrs. Wilson’s signature. And, I’m pretty sure Mr. Garrison likes me.” Peter chuckled and Caelum smiled, taking another deep breath. “Go to class, Parker. Ms. May will throw a fit if she finds out that you’ve been skipping too.”

“May won’t mind, if I say you weren’t feeling well,” Peter replied. “And, besides, I’m pretty sure she likes me.” Caelum let out a laugh, trying not to be too loud so he didn’t attract any teachers.

“What a rebel,” Caelum murmured, leaning against his boyfriend’s chest.

“Well, I’m not chaotic evil yet, but I’m sure you’ll get me there.” Caelum snorted and Peter grinned, he moved and quickly pecked him on the lips. Peter blinked, surprised, “What happened to Midtown best friend?”

“Well, I thought while we’re on the topic of breaking rules. . .” Peter chuckled and leaned down, kissing him back, deeper and with a lot more meaning. Caelum smiled, closing his eyes, and for once, feeling as if all his problems were melting away with the warmth of Peter’s body against his own.

He wished it could have been that simple.