evermore - Taylor Swift ft. Bon Iver

Lila had stopped crying twenty minutes prior and sat in a type of trance. The wounds on her body stung and burned, and she was practically drowning in exhaustion, but her mind was stuck and refusing to welcome any kind of emotion besides shock. The only thing she was sure of was Peter's presence enveloping her, with one arm wrapped around her shoulders and his other hand tangled tightly in hers.

He was talking to May, who had come from the bathroom and tended to Peter's injuries. Lila could feel both of them look at her and back to each other, but nothing in her could care. She couldn't find the will to listen to their hushed whispers, or even open her mouth to let them know how badly her body ached. She simply placed her head on Peter's shoulder as she fixated on a blank stretch of the wall opposite the three of them.

Every time she blinked, she was faced with what happened until slowly, while May and Peter talked quietly, Lila blinked less and less. Her stare grew more empty and she felt like she was slipping back into a shell that she didn't want to be trapped in. Just when the panic started to rise to the surface, May's face intruded on her dissociation.

Lila blinked, startled. May just smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. Everything about her eyes screamed worry for the girl she was staring at. "Lila. You have dust in your hair still, and I think it might be a good idea for you to wash your - um" -May's eyes flickered down to the bruises and burn marks shaped like handprints that were scattered down Lila's arms and neck and swallowed thickly- "your injuries. My bathroom is just around the corner, do you want to take a shower?"

The small, weak voice that held logic pleaded with Lila to say yes to a shower. She knew it would help with her injuries, and clean away traces of what had happened that evening. But she also knew it wouldn't clean away everything. May had smiled, nodded, and held out her hand before Lila even understood that she herself had nodded in reply.

Taking her hand, May pulled Lila to her feet. As she stood, Lila felt the cold wrap around her again. It wasn't a terrible cold, it was simply the absence of warmth. More notably, it was the feeling of not having Peter's arms around her. Knowing that security was gone had a pit growing inside Lila's stomach, and she checked over her shoulder at Peter. He didn't look too thrilled at the fact that she had gotten up either, but he nodded anyway.

She followed May into her bedroom which held her bathroom and nodded slowly as she pointed out her shampoo, conditioner, and soap. Confident that Lila could manage, May turned on the shower and warmed the water. Swirls of steam rose behind her as May turned to face Lila, "Okay, I'll leave you to it. Let me know if-"

"C-Can you please stay?" The fear she'd had all night wasn't going away so easily, and the thought of being alone terrified her. "Please, can you stay - stay close by?"

A mixture of emotions clouded May's eyes and she nodded immediately. "Of course," She said, not even batting an eyelash. "Of course, I'll be right - I'll be in the bedroom. Let me get you some clothes."

Lila sat on top of the toilet while she waited for May. The sound of the running water filled the silence that she was desperate to avoid, and if she concentrated hard enough, Lila thought it sounded like rain. She tried to think of the rain hitting her greenhouse windows, keeping her company as she took care of her plants...

Pretty Lila is friends with Spider-Man. Up in her greenhouse on the roof, she takes care of him-

Lila's gasp was masked by the water running and the door opening. May pulled her out of her memory by entering the bathroom with a pile of clothes. She set them on the bathroom counter and turned to Lila. Her expression was still hard to read, a mixture of pity, worry, and something Lila had not seen in a long time. The look of a mother worried about her child. "I'm gonna wait for you on my bed, okay? I'll be right out here."

Had Lila been in a more coherent state of mind, she might have realized that the favor she asked of May was an empty gesture. She could walk around her apartment while Lila was in the shower, and Lila would be none the wiser, but it was comforting to know that May promised to be a warm presence near Lila. Almost feeling reassured, Lila slowly stripped herself of her clothes and climbed into the shower.

As soon as the water hit her skin and she pulled the curtain, Lila's body sagged with relief. The warmth she had been trying to find since she left Peter's embrace gradually came back, though not entirely. Closing her eyes, she was only met with flashes of what she'd seen, the horrible hallucinations implanted in her mind. Exerting extreme amounts of energy, Lila tried to instead envision that she was at home, in her own shower, on a normal Saturday night.

But the smell of debris leaving her hair and draining away plugged her nose. And May's shampoo smelled of coconuts, not her go-to peppermint. Even the water pressure was off - May's shower just a little more intense on her body. She wasn't at home, and nothing about that Saturday was normal. Lila had literally been to hell and back, seen things that were beyond her scope of reality, and as the water ran over her still-stinging burns, the floodgates opened, and Lila felt the heat come from her tears as well as the water. She sank to the shower floor, burying her sobs in the crook of her arm as a mixture of dust and soap suds drained behind her.

Her mother had always told her how good it was to cry. How human bodies had the ability to cry because their minds couldn't bottle up their emotions. To feel something so much that the body materializes it, that human emotions are visible down to their microscopic structure was something to marvel at. Crying was good because, at its very root, it was feeling something. And sitting in May Parker's shower, the water turning her skin red, Lila felt everything. Everything that happened to her escaped in her tears and washed away down the shower drain. She felt everything that happened to her over again, this time in a safe environment, and let the emotion flow through her and out of her body until the water turned cold and she had stopped crying.

When she had nothing left to give, when her mind was cleared but her body heavy with exhaustion, Lila stood up and finished cleaning her skin. The cold was sharp, but Lila had grown used to its presence. It felt like it settled in her chest and carved something out, leaving her hollow. When she was clean, she shut off the shower, reaching for a towel she had seen on the wall, and slowly dried herself off. Normally, she never could dry herself completely and was fine with a little bit of water clinging to her skin, but this time she patted down her whole body, wrapping her hair in the towel and squeezing it out before stepping onto the bathroom floor. May had left some old running shorts and a baggy t-shirt on the counter for her to change into, and soon enough she was dressed, the towel hanging on her arm.

Going back to her clothes, Lila folded them neatly before picking them up too, carrying everything out of the bathroom. The steam was in a greater hurry to get out of the bathroom than she was, but as soon as her feet touched the carpet, she felt like she could breathe. The cool air blanketed the exposed wounds on her arms and legs, and she knew that May's choice in her clothing was to make sure those wounds could breathe, a detail Lila hadn't thought of.

Along with the cold air greeting her, Lila was also faced with May herself, perched on her bed exactly where she'd promised to be. A comb sat next to her, and she fiddled with her hands as she stared at Lila. Satisfied that she was bathed, her stare gravitated towards the laundry she held. "You don't need to worry about that, babe," She stood and grabbed the clothes and towel. "I can wash all that for you."

Lila's lips twitched, trying to mimic a smile that May saw right through. She looked back to the bed and gestured to the comb, "I didn't want to overstep or anything, but - but I'm sure you must be tired, and that burn on your wrist probably hurts like hell, so... did you want me to comb your hair?"

That sounds lovely, Lila wanted to say but was only able to nod in response. May smiled, then instructed her to sit down on the edge of the bed. She remained half-standing, one foot on the ground while her other leg rested on the bed. Nothing was said as the comb slid between strands of hair, detangling and soothing all at once. The process took about two minutes, but it felt like two hours to Lila, her eyelids growing heavy. She wasn't sure where she was going to sleep, but she was too tired to care.

May took her out of her bedroom and back down the hallway, where Peter was waiting for them. He had changed out of his suit, a sweatshirt and plaid pajama bottoms clinging to him instead. Peter's leg was bouncing up and down anxiously, and his elbows rested on his knees, his hands clasped firmly together as he leaned forward. At the sound of footsteps approaching, he abandoned the seat on the couch he'd occupied in favor of getting closer to Lila.

It was almost like he didn't believe she was simply going to shower, for he was occupying her space as soon as she was in his sights. He reached out to her before hesitating, his eyes scanning her body and taking in every visible injury. A kind of self-loathing pooled in his eyes, the eyes she loved to look at so much, and she hated it. She hated that he felt that way, and that hatred burned so strongly that for a small, heavenly second, she forgot her problems altogether.

Peter also seemed to notice the goosebumps that hadn't left her skin since the water had turned cold, and immediately tugged at the hem of his crew neck. He pulled it off, revealing one of his science pun t-shirts that always managed to put a smile on Lila's face. He handed the sweatshirt out and smiled timidly, waiting for her to grab it. She did, and as soon as she took it, Peter grabbed his aunt's hand and pulled her to the side. Lila slipped the sweatshirt on as Peter whispered to his aunt.

"Did she say anything?" Lila's head was in the pullover, but she didn't hear a response. May must've just shook her head. As Lila found the neck hole, she worked on pulling her arms through. Peter asked, "Did you say anything to her?"

"I'm still trying to figure out what to tell her dad, sweetie, I can't think of a place to start."

That sentence sent another cold shock down Lila's body like someone dumped a bucket of ice water over her head. Her stare snapped to them as she finished putting Peter's sweatshirt on. "Nothing."

Her throat burned with the effort of just one word, and her voice only reflected that. A raspy sound so unlike her escaped, and it gathered the attention of both Peter and his aunt. Their faces were etched with worry, but also with confusion. May asked, "What did you say?"

It was hard to push past her raw vocal cords, but she had to. "M-My dad," Lila said. "We're not telling him anything."

Both of them looked at her surprised. "Lila-"

"N-No. He's - He's been through e-enough. I can't - please, I can't put him through this. A-And he'll start asking q-questions about wh-why, and I won't p-put Peter through that either." Her eyes met his, and for once she didn't want to shy away. She was protecting her dad, protecting Peter, it was as simple as that for her. "We c-can't tell him."

A small part of her wanted to ask for water after speaking so much, but that was for a later time. Her shoulders sagged in relief when she saw May nod, unsure but agreeing nonetheless. Peter walked back over to her, his presence coupled with his crew neck keeping the cold at bay as he grabbed her hand. It felt like home, her fingers woven with his, though she wouldn't say it. He turned back to his aunt, kissed her cheek, and took Lila down the familiar route to his bedroom.

The room was dark and grew even more so as Peter shut the door. Had he not still held her hand, she might've whimpered in fear at being in darkness again so quickly. Even still, it was unsettling and left her heart pumping that much faster. But there was nothing to worry about, because Peter switched on a small lamp, casting a warm glow around his bedroom. He pulled on Lila's hand and she followed, stepping over a mass of blankets and letting Peter help her onto his bed.

At the last second, Lila realized that the pile of blankets on the floor was meant for Peter to sleep in, a notion she didn't care for. Peter started to pull away from her in favor of lying down on the floor, but Lila simply held onto his hand tighter. He looked at her and saw her shake her head. It was all the confirmation he needed, and Peter climbed into bed next to her.

The covers were pulled over them, and they occupied every inch of each other's space. Very much like the sixteen-year-olds they were, they both seemed hesitant to touch one another despite the proximity. But Lila's hand accidentally touched Peter's shirt, and suddenly she couldn't loosen her grip. And Peter's arm happened to drape itself around her shoulder, resting comfortably.

It was the closest the two had been since Lila woke up. The dim light from the lamp left on did little to show much detail of his face, but she made up for it with how close she was. And she saw the bruises on Peter's skin start to blossom, as well as the cut right next to his eyebrow that had been dripping blood the last time she'd seen it. She finally looked him in the eyes and saw how red the skin around them was, and how it was slightly puffy.

"You've been crying," Lila said, blinking slowly from tiredness. There wasn't any judgment behind her statement, it was merely pointing out a fact. Peter felt the same way about what happened as she did.

Peter whispered back, "So have you."

The cold Lila felt was no more. She was finally warm, she was finally safe, and she made it out the other side. Her arms circled around Peter's waist and she hung on tightly, finally closing her eyes and at long last not fearing what was on the other side of sleep. The last thing she remembered was Peter holding onto her just as tightly, his lips meeting the top of her head, and his breaths steadying as he, too, fell asleep.

                                 *****

Peter woke up with a stiff body and hair in his mouth. The stiffness was due to the fact that he slept deeply and hadn't moved much in the night. It was surprisingly one of the best nights of sleep he had. And when he looked down, he saw why.

The hair in his mouth ended up being a little of Lila's. Somehow in the evening she'd managed to turn her back to him, her hair directly in Peter's face. Her breathing was slow and steady, indicating that she was still in a deep sleep.

Careful not to move too much, Peter climbed out of his bed and stood. The sun shone brightly in his room, and the clock on his desk read just a few minutes past eight o'clock. A familiar sound of dishes moving around indicated to him that Aunt May was awake and cooking, no doubt trying to accommodate for their unexpected guest.

Despite Lila being asleep, Peter kept his footsteps light and opened the door silently. Closing the door just as quietly, he turned and walked into the kitchen. Exactly where he expected, he found May scrambling some eggs (though he was pretty sure they were supposed to be over easy).

Once she saw him, her face lit up in a tired, but easy smile. "Mornin', tough guy. How'd you sleep?" She kept her noise level low. "Is Lila still asleep?"

"Yeah," Peter yawned, stretching his arms up as high as he could. Sitting down in front of the kitchen island, he stifled another yawn before continuing, "I slept pretty good. Lila's out, she seemed pretty tired."

May's demeanor grew a little sad. "Yeah,
I can only imagine why." As quickly as Peter could blink (and he was still blinking the sleep out of his eyes, so it had to have been a few milliseconds), May's eyes were suddenly on him, a warning the only thing Peter could see in them. "Did you offer her your bed like you said you would?"

"What - yes, May. Of - Of course I did!"

A spatula was pointed threateningly at him next. "And were you a complete and total gentleman by sleeping on the ground?"

The blush that crept up his neck, past his ears and onto his cheeks might have been answer enough. But sheepishly, Peter replied, "Well, no, not exactly. She - She didn't want to be alone."

The fact that May's emotions kept changing so fast so early in the morning had given Peter an early onset headache. A smile that held a semi-contained smugness rested on May's lips. She removed the eggs from the skillet and threw down some turkey sausage. Looking back up at Peter, she said, "You've got something for her." A weird little dance was thrown in as she continued, "Some feelings."

"Oh, my god, May it's eight-thirty, can we not do this right now?" Peter tried to be mortified, but May's dance was bizarre enough that an amused grin found its way onto his face. She danced around the kitchen until she was facing Peter.

She grabbed him by the head and kissed his forehead gently, "I'm happy for you, baby. She's a real catch."

The sinking feeling of guilt hit him, and Peter couldn't help but let out a scoff. "Yeah, lucky Lila. Getting kidnapped and nearly dying because of her friends."

May was rounding the corner back into the kitchen when she stopped short. Peter's tone left her worried, and she slowly continued back over to the stove. "Okay, I don't know much about what happened, but I know for a fact that it wasn't your fault. And I doubt Lila would see it that way, either."

"He followed me all the way to Lila's greenhouse, May," Peter rubbed his eyes, trying to rid himself of the last bits of sleep but also to rid himself of tears that had unexpectedly sprung forward. "When I least expected it and all he saw was her, you know? I mean, I was hurt pretty bad. I-I didn't sense it at all, and Lila paid for my mistake."

"It's not a mistake to be vulnerable, babe." May smiled sympathetically. "And it's not a mistake to look for help in your friends when you need it."

Peter shook his head. "I just - I don't see it that way." The thought that had lingered was finally creeping to the surface. "I mean, Tony wouldn't have missed-"

"I'm gonna take authoritative action here and tell you to cut the bullshit," May said with a raised hand. She resumed her cooking of breakfast when she saw Peter's eyes on her. "Tony Stark made a lot of mistakes, and they were public ones at that. He wasn't perfect and you know that."

"Then what do I do, May?" A few tears escaped despite Peter's attempt at wiping them away. "How - How do I make the guilt go away?"

Sympathy and warmth filled May's expression. "You don't, honey. Guilt like that, no matter if it was your fault or not, doesn't go away. As for feeling better? You can do what you do best."

"What's that?"

"You start by helping Lila through this. Whatever happened to her... it's not gonna go away because she had a good night's sleep. She's going to need you."

Helping Lila was never not an option for Peter: he was always going to help her through whatever she might wake up to that morning. But maybe May had a point. Maybe helping her would help ease that guilt. And he couldn't deny that Lila had helped him these last few months after they came back from the Blip.

The pair sat in comfortable, contemplative silence for another ten minutes. Peter heard Lila shuffling around in his room before she emerged a few moments later. The urge to stand up and greet her came over him, but simultaneously his limbs seemed to lock up. Nerves fluttered in his stomach coupled with pangs of hurt and rage upon seeing the bruises on her skin.

They were fully formed by this point, blue and purple and black shaped like a handprint across her neck underneath angry welts where the electricity met her body. Peter also noticed just below the scrunched up sleeve of his sweatshirt the handprint seared into her forearm and shining red. Words died in his throat upon seeing Lila in such a state.

"Morning, honey," May said for the both of them, directing the attention to her and allowing Peter a moment to compose himself. "How did you sleep?"

Lila sent a quick glance to Peter before smiling tightly. "Good, thanks." Her voice was hoarse and raw, like she'd suddenly developed a forty-year smoking habit.

Raw from all the screaming-

Peter had to cut his own thoughts off, and instead focused on Lila's presence filling the seat at the counter next to him. The two of them locked eyes and quick, awkward smiles were exchanged before both looked away. "Um-" Lila started, clearing her throat, "- How a-about you?"

May, like the wonderful, caring person she was, was already filling up a glass of water for Lila. She placed it down in front of Lila, who gratefully accepted the glass and began to drink. May answered her question with, "All good over here, babe. How are you feeling?"

There was a poignant silence while Lila finished her glass of water before pausing. "Physically or - or mentally?"

Peter glanced to May, who shrugged while reaching back into the cabinets for plates. "Whatever you're comfortable starting with."

And Lila, as hoarse as she was, launched into the tale of what transpired. In detail, she talked about how the two personalities that shared Macendale's body would surface and work together, how he told her his plan to kill Osborne and Peter and her. She talked about how his bare hand seared her, and threw her into a slew of hallucinations.

The further into the story she delved, the more details arose. She didn't leave any out, almost for fear of them hiding in the shadows of her mind should they not be spoken aloud. Her tone, under the layer of rasp, flattened and grew detached. Lila didn't have any interest in emotionally reconnecting with what happened to her. Not that Peter could blame her.

"I woke up t-to the shadows and — and the next thing I saw was you," Lila's eyes met Peter's, and the stare conveyed much more than either could form into words. "At first I didn't think it was real, but — but it was."

Peter was finally caught up, but there was still something eating at him.

"And after?" He asked, his voice an unsure whisper, as if it dared to even leave his mouth. Lila's head tilted in confusion, so Peter sat straighter and cleared his throat. "The Hobgoblin, he — he cast a spell on you as Doctor Strange was sending him back." Sending him back, like the demon was taking a holiday or something.

He regretted opening his mouth the minute Lila winced in remembrance. "O-Oh."

"You don't — Lila, you don't have to... forget I even asked—"

"N-No," Lila shook her head. "It's not that, it's just... it's hard to put into words." Like she couldn't even figure out what happened to her. May placed a hand on her back and rubbed soothingly, the breakfast sitting between the three of them long forgotten.

"It w-was a darkness that — that kept getting darker," she said, the skin between her brows creased in concentration. A sharp ache rang through Peter, the sudden want to smooth that crease overtaking him for a moment. "I felt hands, nails, claws every-everywhere, dragging me into a darkness that just didn't end. It was like I was at the edge of the universe and — and I was being p-pulled over it. No one could help me... no one was there, I—"

But she had said enough. Snapped back into the sunny kitchen, Lila took in her surroundings, stray tears tracking down her cheeks. Her breathing started to mellow, and her hands were trembling. Not fighting the urge this time, Peter wrapped one of his hands around hers, and let her squeeze tightly. He squeezed tightly in return.

A phone ringing jolted them out of the silence that encased them, and May scrambled around the counter to pick up the phone. She rounded the corner, saying she'd only be a minute, and left Peter and Lila alone.

The collar on Peter's loose t-shirt tightened, and his palms grew clammy as he turned to Lila. The far-off look in her eye as she fiddled with her fingers told him she barely noticed his stare on her. With great effort, Peter cleared his throat quietly and whispered, "I'm sorry."

He might as well have yelled it, for Lila jolted in her seat and whipped her head around to stare at him. "Wh-What did you say?"

"I said I'm-"

"No I — I get that. Why the hell are you s-sorry?"

"It's my fault," Peter admitted, his head bowed in shame. "He followed me to your greenhouse, he saw your face, saw you helping me. It's my fault you were in danger."

"You can't m-mean that, Peter."

"I do, though," Peter blinked furiously as he looked into her green eyes. Those eyes that for the first time in hours held his own with a burning stare. "How is it not?" His sarcastic laugh came out in a breath, and he finally looked away.

"You saved my life." As simple of a statement as any, but it felt like a knife in his side. It was true but at what cost?

"You were in danger because of my mistakes, Lila. You should — you should blame me."

"Well, I don't," she snapped. She actually snapped, there was bitterness and anger laced in her words. But if Peter thought about it, it was probably more disbelief than anything. "And I never will."

It was a closing argument.

The pair said nothing as May came back into the room, but the knot that was sitting in Peter's stomach had loosened considerably. Until he saw May's face: pale, lips pressed tightly together, eyes worried. She spared a glance to Lila before brushing past the both of them and into the living room to turn on the TV.

"I'm sorry to the both of you," May started, eyes focused on the television until she found the desired channel. "But you're going to want to see this." Peter and Lila both shared a confused look before shuffling into the living room, where the sound of a news broadcast hit their ears."

"... where his body was found in the ruins of the restaurant named Sock Hop Malt Shop. The diner had been under renovations for the past month, allowing for Macendale to successfully evade police. Norman Osborn has resided over clean-up, and is aiding the family who owned the restaurant to navigate their financial predicament. I'll take you over now to Channel 6's own..."

Dead. Jason Macendale was dead, as the heading on the news report indicated. As Peter watched on, he caught the rest of the story. How in their haste to save Lila, both he and Doctor Strange left Macendale in that crumbling building. He'd died because a building fell onto him. Peter could still see his blood-stained teeth as he laughed—

No. He wouldn't feel guilt over the fact that Macendale was dead. In fact, he felt relieved. He couldn't hurt Lila, could never go after her again. Sparing a glance at Lila, Peter noticed her pale skin tone was gone, replaced with bone-white.

May noticed it, too. She instantly shut the television off and turned to Lila. "When does your dad come back into town, honey?"

Lila hadn't taken her eyes off the black screen. "Tuesday a-afternoon."

"Okay," May nodded, and she rubbed her hands together in anticipation. Peter even thought there might've been guilt behind her eyes for opening such a fresh wound. "Okay, um — I don't want you going home until then. I don't think you should be by yourself. If you two want, I can call you both out of school for tomorrow so we don't have to worry about it?"

Tears glistened in Lila's eyes. None fell, and the pool of tears made her eyes shine with gratitude. "Sophie's my — my emergency contact. I think I'll j-just call her and ask her to call the school."

The spark of her gratitude had not dulled in her eyes the rest of that day. Better yet, Peter noticed, was the fact that her shoulders slumped a bit in relief at the thought of Macendale no longer able to hurt her.

I put off this chapter because in all honesty, I wasn't ready to share my grief with you just yet. But here it is, hope you enjoy. Unedited. Xx.