youre in the sky so far

Wade smells like wet concrete and gunpowder and a whole lot of blood. It’s kinda gross, it’s overwhelming. Peter stuffs his face in the crusted fabric of Wade’s suit and inhales. He wants to puke. It smells better than the ash.The rain is loud. It sounds like May in the kitchen, banging pots and pans together trying to make decent chicken alfredo. Peter’s hands tremor, twisted in the back of Wade’s suit.Wade smooths his own hands down Peter’s back, holds him steady. “How long you been out here, Petey?”Too long. His hair is soaked and he can’t feel his fingertips anymore. He ran out of web fluid an hour ago and has been sitting on the rooftop ever since.“A while,” he says.(or; Peter loses May. His friends try to make sure he doesn’t lose himself, too.)