AVENGERS ANONYMOUS

NINE: LAST PRIORITY

*Hey there. Sorry for the slow update! Hopefully this chapter makes up for it...Thanks for reading!*

.:::.

Peter dropped me on my balcony and I stormed inside as soon as I got my footing. I felt him following me, probably trying to think of something to say to set things right again.

I went to the sink in the kitchen to wash my hands. It helped me feel a little cleaner after being mauled by that nasty guy. I grabbed the dishcloth next to the sink and started drying my hands when I looked back at him.

He stood quietly in the middle of the floor, his mask still hiding the features on his face. "Is there something you wanted to say?" I asked. "Because if not, I'm very tired and I'd like to go to bed."

I noticed him sway a little as he stood there, almost like he was losing his balance. It was strange.

"Peter?" A hint of worry was hidden in my voice. I would never be able to cover it up. He reached up to his face and weakly removed the mask. My stomach twisted when I saw how colorless his cheeks were. "Peter!" I hurried to hold his chest as he almost toppled over.

I pulled over a wooden chair, tucking my foot around the leg and dragging it until I could reach. I guided him down into the chair. His head bobbed up and down, trying to stay upright.

I held his clammy cheeks securely in my hands. "What happened to you?" I asked him, though he was obviously in no condition to answer. I let him go to run the dishcloth under the faucet and pressed the cool water to his forehead.

It seemed to give him enough energy to speak. "S'okay...I'm okay."

"You look like you're going to pass out." I said worriedly. "What's wrong? Did you eat something strange?" His eyes blinked shut and he shook his head. That's when I figured it out. "Jesus, Peter! Did you eat anything at all?"

His mumbling was incoherent. Of course he hadn't eaten anything. He was too damn busy saving the world to eat. He was probably dehydrated, too.

I moved the dishcloth around to his cheeks. "And you tell me not to worry about you..." I said quietly, choking back tears that had been building up for a while.

I gave him a tall glass of water and forced him to finish it, along with some small things to eat that would fill his stomach. Onyx finally wandered into the kitchen when she smelled food, and she rested her chin in Peter's lap.

He looked a lot better after eating and drinking, but he was still terribly weak and hazy-eyed. "You should probably get out of that suit." I said.

He shook his head and used the chair as support for getting up. "I'm fine. I'll just get back home and head to bed."

I forced his shoulders back into the chair. "No way. If you pass out, I'll never know. You'll hurt yourself. You have to stay here tonight."

I didn't miss the doubt hidden in his eyes. "You want me to stay here tonight?"

"Yes, even though you've been acting like an egotistical maniac who has obviously forgotten about the basics of survival, I want you to stay here." I folded my arms in response to his attitude.

Peter leaned back in his chair and kept his big mouth shut. For that, I was grateful.

. . . . . . . .

The dirt was still fresh over his grave. The flowers were wilted, and little sprouts of grass poked through here and there, but it was all still too fresh for my liking. Chase had only been dead for a month.

I still didn't regret avoiding his funeral. I wouldn't have felt comfortable there, and I wouldn't have had anything to say to him as he was lowered into the ground. I still didn't have anything to say to him.

I considered bringing Onyx with me to visit, but she didn't seem very interested in a walk. She was becoming terribly lazy. I wanted to be alone, anyway. All I'd brought with me were a bunch of flowers to lay on the grave - they weren't meant for Chase, but I wasn't cold hearted. I plucked out a few and placed them over the too-fresh dirt.

The rest of the flowers were reserved for my brother. I walked down a winding little path and under a few trees to reach the place where Greg was buried. The dirt on his grave was almost entirely blended in with the surrounding area. It wasn't fresh enough for the wound inside me.

I didn't linger at the cemetery. It wouldn't have been good for me. Either way, I was gone long enough for terrible things to happen, as they inevitably would. Realistically, I had only been gone for thirty minutes, and it baffled me how my life could take such a dangerous turn in such a short time.

Half of my apartment complex was engulfed in flames. Fiery, dark, and smoky flames swallowed my entire being. I stood on my block, horrified by the sight of my building on fire. I wanted to collapse right there on the street, but that wouldn't help anyone. I stayed standing.

I stayed standing because of one thing, and one thing only. I didn't care about my apartment. I didn't care about my belongings. I cared about Peter, even though we weren't on the best terms, but I stopped thinking of him when Spiderman arrived safely on the scene.

I practically slung myself into the nearest firefighter's ashy arms. "My dog! My dog, she's still in there! You have to get my dog!" The desperation grew quickly in my voice.

He frantically brushed me away. "Ma'am, there's still a lot of people trapped inside." I lost him in the chaos around me.

My chest was folding in on itself. I couldn't breathe. I watched more and more people rescued, running free of the flames, or guided to safety by the emergency crews.

Then I saw Spiderman again.

I didn't think. I just screamed. "PETER!" He didn't hear me, and I screamed again. I screamed regardless of the perplexed people around me. "PETER! THE DOG!" My voice disappeared, but I still screamed. "THE DOG!"

Spiderman slung himself into the building again. He had to know Onyx was still in there, still alone and scared and helpless inside my apartment. He had to know she was still trapped.

As I resisted a collapse of my own body, my joints became stiff and frozen. I didn't move from that spot on the sidewalk, my eyes darting all over the building at windows and balconies and any form of escape he would use when he rescued her.

The hoses on the fire trucks managed to fight their battle well, reducing the flames to small sparks and steam clouds. The air was thick with ash and debris and foggy smoke.

Spiderman finally stumbled out the lobby doors. His arms were empty.

I covered my mouth with both hands and suffocated the shriek building inside me. My eyes burned with waterfalls of tears running down my face. Just like Greg, just like Chase, just like that, my dear friend was suddenly and viciously taken from me.

I didn't crumble down to the sidewalk until a hand planted itself on my shoulder. I almost didn't feel it.

He was the firefighter from before, though the smears of black over his face made him difficult to recognize. "Does she belong to you?" I followed the rope in his hand as it trailed down to the ground and was tied around the collar of a dusty and crippled German Shepherd. My German Shepherd. My baby!

I sobbed in joy, practically laying on the sidewalk as Onyx limped into my lap, her pink tongue lapping at my face.

"She's a little beat up, but she'll be alright." The firefighter explained, scratching at her ears.

I looked up at the man, the everyday hero that he was, and I grinned with my watery eyes. "Thank you."

I embraced Onyx for a while, cradling her front paw in my hand and patting her head in my lap. I leaned over her, cuddled her in the safe and secure blanket of my arms. I listened to her wheezing and sniffling and tried not to cry any longer. There was no reason to cry. She was safe, I was safe. Peter was...

I saw his shoes before he squatted down beside me dressed as Peter Parker. His face was low, his hand rubbing over his eyebrows. "There were so many people..." He started, but trailed off and started again. "I couldn't get to her, there were so many people. Is she okay? Is she hurt?" It occurred to me then that he didn't save her. He didn't even try to save her. It was the fire department that saved her. And in both cases, she was their last priority. Yet somehow, she was alive.

I stared at Peter, traces of black left on his neck where the mask just reached. What could I say to him? We wouldn't have saved her, regardless of my pleas. He would have rescued every other human life that was in danger before tending to a worthless dog. I should have understood that, but I didn't, because he knew how much she meant to me. He knew, and he did nothing about it.

Peter frowned and reached his hand toward my face, but I leaned away. He was persistent and reached further, holding my swollen and red cheek in his hand. It was his way of asking for an apology, but I couldn't be sure he was sorry for what he did. I couldn't be sure of anything he did anymore.

. . . . . . . .

I leaned down to kiss Onyx again, petting her fur in the moonlight streaming through Aunt May's guest bedroom window. It was kind of her to let us stay there while we figured out some living arrangements. Onyx was still very weak and sickly, but she would regain strength soon.

Peter hovered in the doorway while I kneeled beside Onyx. She seemed to be floating in a light sleep, so I quietly rose to my feet.

"Listen," Peter murmured. He'd been ready to talk for a while.

I was still preparing myself, but I spoke anyway. "It was him."

He obviously didn't expect me to be so vague. "Who?"

"He knows who you are, Peter." I began walking slowly in his direction. "He knows who we are. He warned us, and you said nothing was going to happen." I heard him take in another breath to keep speaking, but I cut him short. "You said nothing was going to happen!"

"You're jumping to conclusions." He accused me of overreacting - again! "It was just a fire."

"Bullshit!" I shouted. "He started it, that son of a bitch started the fire to try and hurt us! He's going to hurt us, Peter!" Most of my emotional response was triggered by fear. Red knit hat instilled an awful fear inside me.

"Olivia, you said my name." He went on and changed the subject. "You called me by my name, don't you know how dangerous that is?"

That selfish little coward! "My dog was dying in a fire! I had to call your damn name!"

"You can't do that! I'm supposed to be able to trust you!"

"Don't you know how many people are named Peter in the world? She was going to die!"

"She's just a dog!"

I audibly gasped, a twinge of pain striking me as if he'd slapped me across the face.

He tried to mend it. "No, no, you know I didn't mean that - Dammit, Olivia, don't leave!"

"I'm not leaving!" I barked at him. "I argued with my parents for an hour to get them to let me stay here. I'm not leaving!"

"Then where the hell are you going?"

"I don't want to see you. I'm done with you, Peter Parker." My voice was calm enough to scare me into believing it. I snatched a pillow from the bed and crouched on the floor beside Onyx. My tears were silent, and as long as they stayed that way, he would never know I cried for so long.

I lost him. I might have held onto Onyx, but I was certain I lost Peter forever. I wasn't entirely sure I wanted him back.