Where to?” Pierre asked himself. “Where can I go now? Surely not to the club or to pay calls?” All men seemed so pitiful, so poor, in comparison with this feeling of tenderness and love he experienced: in comparison with that softened, grateful, last look she had given him through her tears. It was clear and frosty. Above the dirty, ill-lit streets, above the black roofs, stretched the dark starry sky. Only looking up at the sky did Pierre cease to feel how sordid and humiliating were all mundane things compared with the heights to which his soul had just been raised.
War and Peace by Leo Tolstoy, Volume II, Part 5, Chapter 22 The inspiration for the final number in Natasha, Pierre and the Great Comet of 1812
Inspired by this post: by @islet101 And also the fact that I’m watching a certain movie… Ahem…
They don’t talk about it.
They do. Not. Talk about it.
Not in front of John, not in front of Rosie.
Not in front of anyone- even Mycroft. (God only knows what the elder Holmes would do with the news
Sherlock shudders to even contemplate it).
In fact, so great is his intent to not be found out that the Great Detective has taken to engaging in what he calls “diversionary tactics,” every time he thinks anyone is getting suspicious. Thus Molly has had her feet stood on, has been nearly dropped on the dancefloor (though Sherlock, in fairness, is always skilled enough to make it look real and make sure she doesn’t actually fall). She has been forced to go through what John Watson laughably calls dancing, has endured more good-natured turns around the floor with Mr. Holmes and Greg than she ever thought she’d manage-
And all because she and Sherlock have a secret.
A little, teensy, tiny, dirty little secret. (It makes her grin to even think about it).
She found herself in an abandoned warehouse just a few blocks from the run down apartment her father had rented until he gathered the insurance money from their original apartment that had burned down days before. [Y/N] sat with her feet dangling over edge of the catwalk, her body facing the industrial sized window that overlooked the dirty and deserted streets of the city.
Looking down, she pulled out the pill bottle from her hoodie pocket. Running her fingers over the label, she fought back the tears. Closing her hand over the prescription bottle, she looked out the window and mustered up the courage to uncap the poison in her hand.
Just as she was about to swallow all the pills, she jumped at the sound of glass shattering below her. She cursed as the oxycodone fell from her fingers and onto the warehouse ground. Standing up, [Y/N] peered over the catwalk and noticed a figure struggling to stand. Her eyes strained to adjust to the dark. Gasping when she caught sight of the famous red and blue, she scrambled off the catwalk and down the stairs to the first floor.
“Oh my god.” She panted as she made it to the figure. Slowing her steps, she assessed the situation. It was definitely Spiderman, that she knew. What she didn’t know was why he was covered in enough blood to fill up a bathtub. Shrieking when he collapsed onto the ground, she ran to him.
Kneeling on the hard ground, she propped him up on her knees. She looked down at her hands that were now covered in sticky, wet blood. “Oh god.” [Y/N] shuddered, she hated blood. Clearing her throat, she gently tapped his masked face, “Hey? You with me?” She scanned over the rest of him, her eyes widening at the ripped suit and exposed torso. Her heart rate increased, he wasn’t just covered in blood, it was his own blood.
“Holy shit. Hey, hey, hey!” [Y/N] shook him slightly, “We need to get you to a hospital!” She pawed at him, struggling to find a cellphone. Finally finding one, she cursed loudly as it slipped from her hands “I need you to stay with me!” Trying to unlock the phone with her blood soaked fingers, she screamed when he grabbed her forearm. Leaning down, her brows knitted together at the muffled sounds coming from where his mouth was located. “What? I can’t, I don’t know, I can’t understand you.” He continued to mumble with her still unable to understand him.
Taking in a deep shaky breath, she set down the phone away from the spreading blood puddle. “I can’t understand you with your mask on,” [Y/N] said gently. Biting her lip, she reached for the bottom of his mask. “I have to take your mask off, okay?” Not waiting for him to answer, she gently and slowly revealed the face that laid underneath. [Y/N] gasped softly when she finally removed the cover, her heart sped up even more. How was this possible?
“Peter?!” [Y/N] cried out. Spiderman was a kid, a teenager? More importantly her lab partner in Chemistry. So many questions rolled through her brain but was quickly cut short when she remembered that she needed to call 911.
Peter’s eyes fluttered, his mouth moving but very little sounds coming out. “Call Tony, not 911, please.” He croaked out.
“What? Tony?!” She yelped, who the hell was Tony? “But, you need help!”
[Y/N] started to shake, she could feel his body temperature start to drop. Struggling to find this mysterious Tony number, “Come on, come on. Yes! Okay, come on, please pick up….pick up, come on.”
“Listen, Parker. You better have a damn good reason-”
“-Oh my gosh! Thank god, um, Peter told me to call you. I don’t know why, I should be calling 911. He’s bleeding out….there’s a lot of blood. I don’t know what to do. We need help! Why am I calling you instead of 911, oh my god, I’m so stupid. He’s probably going to die because of this phone call. Oh my god.”
[Y/N] leaned her head against the frame of the window that showed Peter sleeping soundly in his hospital room. Her hands and arms were free from his blood but the reminder of almost seeing him die in her arms were still soaked into her clothes.
“Here you go, kid.”
Standing up straight, she looked up to see Tony hand her a fresh set of clothes. Placing a hand on her shoulder, he gave her a pressed smile. “You can get changed over here.” Patting her back, he calmly spoke. “He’ll be here when you get back, I promise. Come on.”
Reluctantly following Tony, she thanked him and closed the curtain to change. Wincing as she peeled off her clothes, she looked around to find a spot to place them.
“There’s a little washing station off to her left there.”
Following his direction, she sighed in content to know that she could wash the rest of the blood off. “Um, thank you.”
“Yeah, no problem.” Tony twirled around, his hands clasped behind his back. “So uh, Peter’s never mentioned you before. Are you two friends?”
Running a wet towel over her torso, she shook her head even though she knew he couldn’t see her. “No, not really.” Running it over her legs, she sighed again. “We’re just lab partners.”
Quickly changing into the fresh clothes, she slid the curtain open.
“Much better?” He smiled as she nodded.
Guiding them back to Peter’s room, he slowed his steps as he got to the window. It was a close call and Tony was so unbelievably thankful that he made it.
“He saved me once,” [Y/N] said softly.
“Hm?” Tony asked, distracted from his thoughts.
She motioned towards Peter, “He saved me, about two weeks ago.” Hugging herself, she bit her lip. “My apartment building caught on fire and I was stupid enough to go back up the six flights to get something and just as I was about to go back down, the stairs collapsed on me.” [Y/N] met Tony’s eyes, “I never got a chance to thank him and for the past week and a half, I’ve been sitting next to him.”
“I’m sure he knew,” Tony reassured. Following her gaze to Peter, he frowned, “What were you doing at that warehouse anyway? Seems a bit morbid to be a teen hangout spot.”
[Y/N] inhaled slowly, “I lost my mom during the battle of New York. We were on our way to see a movie when everything hit the fan. Our taxi got flipped over on its side and the doors were jammed. So, my dad kicked the window out and threw me. I broke a few ribs and my arm but I didn’t feel it at the time because all I could focus on was the fact that there were aliens swarming the city. My mom had suffered a concussion from the wreck and was fading in and out of consciousness so my dad climbed out first to get better leverage. He was a little shaky from it all too so he lost his footing and fell to the ground. I just remember standing there in shock and in panic from it all that I almost didn’t notice the gas leaking from the other cars. I screamed for my dad to hurry but the taxi blew up before he could even stand up to try.”
Tony stood in silence, his heart breaking. He felt responsible for everything that had happened in New York. And it hurt even more to be standing in front of someone who had lost so much during it all.
“You asked why I was in the warehouse and the reason was that ever since that day, my dad was never the same. And to a degree, I changed too but he just became so cold. Every time he looked at me, I could see disgust in his eyes. I reminded him so much of the woman he failed to save that he couldn’t even bare to look at me. Abuse isn’t just physical, Mr. Stark. It’s verbal too and every day since then, that was what I had to deal with. Him degrading me as a person, making me see myself in a way that my mother would never let me see myself as. I went to that warehouse tonight to be reunited with my mother. To be reunited with the one person who would have loved me no matter what.”
Tony inhaled sharply. Nodding, he placed a warm and firm hand on her shoulder. “I tend to be hypocritical at times and this is one of those moments when I say I believe in fate which I normally don’t. But, had you not gone to that warehouse, Peter would be dead. Instead of ending a life, you saved one.”
Peter’s eyes fluttered open, groaning from the pain, he went to raise his hand to his head but immediately regretted his movement. It felt like he had been hit with a train ten times over. Blinking, his eyes adjusted to the girl sitting in an arm chair with a Chemistry book in her lap.
“[Y/N]?! What are, what are you doing here?” Panic started to settle into his bones.
She looked up from her textbook, untucking her legs from underneath her, she set the book down. “You were involved in a serious car accident-”
“-wha?” Peter tried to recall this accident but all he remembered was being seconds from being ripped apart.
“Peter! You’re awake!”
“Aunt May?” Peter exclaimed, completely dumbfounded at what was going on. “I don’t understand.”
Aunt May started to sob, “Oh my god, I’m so glad you’re okay! I was so worried about you.”
[Y/N] stood up, grabbing her backpack, she smiled. “It’s okay if you don’t remember the car accident, Peter.” Walking over towards him, she gently patted his hand. “You were walking me back to my apartment after our study session when you pushed me out of the way of a speeding car. I can’t thank you enough for saving my life. Hopefully one day I can return the favor.” Just as Aunt May wasn’t looking, she winked and motioned a phone signal with her hand and mouthed call Tony. Turning towards Aunt May, she smiled, “If it’s okay, I’ll leave Peter’s schoolwork with you.”
Aunt May nodded, tears soaking her eyes. “Of course!”
Handing it off, she looked at Peter. “I’m glad you’re okay. I’ll see you around.”
Peter still dumbfounded, nodded. “Yeah. uh, see you around.”
Once she left the room, Aunt May wiped away some tears. “I know you’re in pain and everything but she’s cute!”
i love the victorian era aesthetic.. .shitty ass candles and dirty streets, tweeds, carriages, ghost stories, the widespread existential panic due to newly discovered dinosaur bones and the theory of evolution