Chapter Text
The faint taste of ash lingered in the once optimistic and happy young man's mouth. He suppressed a cough that would probably irritate his already dry and scratchy throat even more.
Perched above a crumbling buildings rooftop, sat the worn out hero- or once former hero. Now there is nothing left to save.
No one.
Something soft grazes his cheekbone, he looked slowly up- knowing it's nothing dreadful, if so his spidersenses would've screamed at him right before it had the chance to touch him. The wine red cloak or "Cloaky" Pete preferred to call it to give the strange clothing more of a personality and sometimes to lift the mood between them, it tried to swipe carefully the ash out of his face. The cloak floated beside him, not attached to Peter's back. It would do that only when they're fighting against the rotten corpses. The Spider never pressed on that, maybe the cloak had also some struggles to bond or just wanted to stay true to his deceased master. And if that was the case Peter could totally understand that. On some rare occasions it would snuck on his back to warm him when it notices the barely visible shivers the young male tried to hide as much as he could, when they where out late at night. Already used at a young age, not to show any signs of vulnerability even tho he sometimes would like nothing more than to break down and scream his soul out, let searing hot tears run freely down until he couldn't feel anything. But he knew it would be useless, just a waste of energy. It would bring nobody back.
The soft fabric left him short after, giving away a soft rustling a nice contrast from the haunting howling of the cold wind slipping trough the broken cracks of the walls.
The sun had already gone down giving the moon space to spread the even lonelier night some space to roam the dead streets. Nothing in sight the young man thought, which was pleasant at first before realizing there is nothing else to do, besides call it the night and head back to their small "base" if you can call it that. It is a small refuge indeed so Peter is more than happy with it, but it was a bare back bone nothing more. He let out a tired sigh, wanting to suggest to his company to settle back to their home but before he could do that, his gaze stuck on the bottom corner of the entities fabric, stained with ash and...blood? He brought one skinny hand up to his face, flinching at the piercing pain that shot trough his scrawny frame. He took a look at his fingertips, coated in fresh blood. Another cut.
Again...
Again he hadn't noticed he got injured. Since everyone ceased to exist besides the cloak. He really had gotten more reckless hadn't he? He turned to the patiently waiting cloak. If it had eyes it would probably look at him worried, sympathetically even. Which was good- Peter couldn't handle to look into more pained eyes, only to loose them too.
He took the corner of Cloaky's fabric and carefully cleaned it with his worn down suit. The wine colored fabric holding still, observing him.
"Thanks Cloaky.."
Pete got slowly up, ignoring his knees protesting.
After losing every single one, everything... he was really glad that after all the deadly events the cloak had managed to survive just like him. Peter knew he was a social guy and needed contact with others. If it wasn’t for that strange but endearing being beside him, he probably would've lost it long ago and end himself in the most unfashioned way possible.
"Let's grab the spotted material and get back."
He muttered tiredly, rubbing his aching neck.
Cloaky followed close by as the Spider used his only one working web shooter to swing back down. Their were safe for now, he hadn't spotted anyone or better say anything. They made good work in the past months against the undead. After everyone had died, Pete was stuck on a blinding rage of sorrow and despair that he had gone almost amok. Killing and ripping every single one of those ungodly creatures near him that had taken so much from him. After who knows how long he had gone haywire with his anger, drained from energy and will to keep going, had he noticed that his left webshooter that was already malfunctioning before at the time had broken now at the outbreak of it's owner. That was the call he needed to remind himself that it won't help if he let his emotions run free. It destroys only more of what little is left. He really hoped he could fix the small gadget eventually. He had already enough material to repair the housing and the base but he needed a replacement for the small chip that had burned out. He eventually will find something that he could work with, he always had managed somehow and always will.
Stepping carefully trough the broken glass door, the glass shards underneath his soles giving off a cackling sound a stark contrast of the solemnly empty space of the once fully operational gas station. He took a good look around, sensing nothing dangerous he continued heading for the back. Once reaching the back where lockers are located he crouched down bringing the small backpack around and collecting the few useful things that was left in a hurry. The small backpack was perfect to collect and navigate in a hurry without getting in the way.
His senses going suddenly off. He noticed something flying straight at him of the corner of his eye. Holding his hand up and catching it. He looked down... a can with some conserved food? He looked back up. The cloak already with his back turned to Peter looking out the entrance making sure nothing is heading their way. Peter chuckled. Looking back into his lap. It was really a long time since he had a real meal...
Yeah...
It definitely was an endearing piece of fabric.
To be continued~