Peter’s hands swept furiously across his sweat-beaded face, his leg bouncing with anxious taps against pristine white floors.

“Special Agent Strahm? she’s ready to see y-“

he bounded for the door before the nurse could finish, swinging it open to reveal a heartbreaking sight.

you.

tucked into the bland hospital bed, cords tucked tightly under the layer of skin by your inner elbow- a heart monitor beeping rhythmically in his ears.

the worst part was he could’ve prevented this.

he didn’t react fast enough when that stupid puppet exploded— shards of glass littering your perfect face, hospitalizing you for the past month.