"Hey, Bonnie? Can I sign your cast?" Ned asks me as we walk to the doors to leave school after spending Physics together. Peter is still completing his months-worth of detentions, meaning he will most likely be a little pissed off when the three of us meet at the movies later on tonight.

Since Peter and I left the hospital last week after everything that happened with Mr Toomes, we have been inseparable, though it is difficult to mask the new element to our previously platonic friendship when we are around my father. Peter is obvious as he blushes and stumbles over his words, and I am sure that Pepper may have caught us holding hands once or twice.

Actually, after Dad and Pepper arrived at the hospital and I had had X-rays and a quick surgery on my shoulder to ensure no arteries had been damaged and that everything was safe for stitches, Dad went outside for a smoke and Pepper had gone to the coffee machine in the waiting room for when I eventually came around from the pain killers and had woken up properly.

My eyelashes untangled as I woke up from what felt like the best sleep I had experienced in my entire life, and I found Peter curled up in a chair in the corner of the room, watching me intensely to make sure that I was okay. As he jumped from his seat and rushed over to me, I shuffled along in my hospital bed to free up some space for him to climb in next to me. His eyes were red and puffy, though his lips were curled up onto the most genuine grin I had ever seen play on his lips as he intertwined our fingers and ran his thumb along the back of my hand. I noticed he had medical tape stuck across his face to close some of the bigger wounds, though no casts or crutches were to be seen, which was an overwhelming relief.

As our lips were about to graze together, Peter jumped out of the bed and into the chair beside me the second before Pepper opened the door handle and waltzed in, completely ruining the moment between us. I think she might have felt the tension between Peter and I, though she pretended it was unnoticeable.

"No, Ned. I told you, I'm trying to keep it as clean as possible. And anyway, I know you'll just draw a giant dick—"

"Hey, what'd I miss?" Peter jogs over to us, his detention seeming to finally be over.

"Nothing, Bonnie won't let me write anything on her cast even though I've been asking for so long and I literally promised that I wouldn't draw a... thing on it."

Peter sighs, "Ned, she won't even let me write anything on it. And my tongue has been in her mouth before."

"Shut up, Parker," I cut him off, "I think Liz is leaving." I gesture to the tearful girl at the end of the hallway, collecting her trophies and textbooks while saying her final goodbyes to her best friends. Peter and I share a look, feeling guilty for being the unfortunate cause behind her suffering and upset. Though it had to be done for the greater good, it still feels pretty awful now.

We follow to the end of the corridor to also wave her off, needing to clear our name while we can.

"Hey, Liz. How are you doing? I can't even imagine how awful you must be feeling. I'm really sorry." Peter begins. Liz hardly acknowledges me. Ned stands a few paces behind us.

"Are you sorry that my dad is going to jail or for running out on me at the dance?" She snaps.

I feel Peter burning up out of embarrassment beside me. "I—"

"That was a pretty shitty thing to do."

I know that Peter is desperate to blurt out the reasoning behind his awful availability and ability to keep friendships in general. He must be feeling horrible considering the relationship that was on the line, however, it is difficult to feel to sympathetic knowing that Peter is finally my boy. Or some variation of the unofficial-significant-other-type.

"If there is anything that I can do..." he begins, trailing off.

Liz clears her throat and wipes at the tear-tracks spilling down her cheeks. "Dad doesn't want us here during the trial so I guess we're moving to Oregon. My Mom said it's nice in Portland or whatever."

"It is," I reply, offering a small smile, "it's beautiful this time of year, and there is so much to do. Antonio's outside of Portland Art Museum has the best strawberry ice cream."

She returns the small smile, much like the one she offered in the hotel room back in Washington but much more genuine. Clearly, her anger is mostly, if not only, directed at Peter.

"Peter, I really hope you figure out what's going on with you. Goodbye, Bonnie." Liz pulls me into an awkward hug, lip quivering and nose sniffing and all, before she shoots Peter a final glance and walks off with her mother. The boy next to me is left red in the face, head hanging down, and kicking at the tiles on the floor.

I take a deep breath, trying to assure myself alongside Peter, "We did the right thing. Adrian is a criminal, Peter. It would have been unsafe for Liz and for everyone around her father."

It takes him a while, but he manages to look back up to me and nod his head, almost trying to convince himself that I am right. I don't blame him; I'm starting to have my own doubts after seeing how tearful and broken Liz is. Peter squeezes my hand as I watch down the empty corridor for any remnants of the tall girl with the beautiful heart. None.

As we walk down the corridor to an Academic Decathlon meeting, Peter asks me about Oregon and I tell him about the time Dad took me on a conference and gave me his credit card, giving me freedom for what felt like the first time in my life. Needless to say, I practically survived on various flavours of ice cream during our visit.

As we walk down the hall with our fingers intertwined I have never been so certain of anything in my life; that Peter Parker has reminded me how to feel once again, and has reminded me that I am deserving of love.

So, I am not sure when the nightmares began to plague my life, but I can certainly say that they do not seem to seep through into my conscious life anymore, or at least for the time being. I am able to go on vacation and eat ice cream with friends once again and not be stuck in a state of constant terror. While I still have a lot to work on in my recovery and acceptance of the trauma, I am starting to think that maybe I could be the type of girl that mirrors the sun, or something of that sort.

At least, that what Peter Parker tells me. And I trust him with my entire life.