the light behind your eyes -- sample
peter jason quilland so it's the end...never let them take the light behind your eyes.template credit.
The fight had raged on as Peter laid on the ground, in the midst of the debris and the chaos. New York City had seen its fair share of terror, but nothing like this. Ariana, the Avengers, and the Guardians continued to fight. They were solely unaware in the wake of their adrenaline of what had become of their friend. Peter’s breathing was almost nonexistent. His body laid in a slump, fetus-like, position. There was dust in his hair from having been sent flying through two buildings. The glass shards, although no longer puncturing his skin from his self-augmentation, laid upon his skin and glistened in the light that was left. His heart had begun to beat slower with every passing second. Was this the end?
In his state of unconsciousness, Peter woke in familiar place. There was nothing around him but the cosmos, the interstellar sights of the galaxy—of space. He was floating in mid-air, as anyone would in a place in which gravity no longer existed. He felt a strange sense of freedom but it terrified him, for the last time he was in this place, his father had taken him to the brink of death. Regardless, he took in the sights around him, and then heard her voice. His eyes scanned the area until he had seen her, his mother, in all of her beauty. Her blonde wavy hair settled gently upon her shoulders, and the soft smile that he was so familiar with was showing upon her face.
“Am I dead?” he asked her, slowly walking toward her. His arm was held out, his hand stretched for her to take. As his mother took his hand, he breathed a sigh of relief. It was a calm that he hadn’t felt in years. His eyes closed. A tear broke through the barrier of his eyelid and slid down his cheek slowly. He patiently awaited her answer. But there was nothing—just silence.
Quill reopened his eyes to see his mother’s hand was still being held by his. He tilted his head to the side in confusion, as the smile on her face continued to beam. “Why won’t you answer me?” there was a bit of anger mixed in with his tone. His mother’s other hand lifted and rested upon his cheek. In reaction, he turned his head toward her hand, pressing his cheek against the small palm.
”My boy,” her tone was soft and peaceful. ”I need you to listen to me.” Her loving eyes fell upon his and all Quill could do was nod. He reached his other hand up to rest upon hers. In doing so, his mother gave the hand holding hers a tight squeeze. ”This isn’t the end of the road for you, baby. Your father is still within you. You can wake out of this.”
“But…” he blinked in confusion. “It didn’t save me…because I’m here and…I don’t know if I want to leave.”
His mother shook her head, and held onto his hand tighter. ”There is a light behind your eyes, my precious baby. Use it, continue to fight. This isn’t your time. Be strong, and go home, Peter.
It was like an earthquake had hit every single nerve-ending that he had. His heartbeat picked up. The warmth began to rise back to his skin. His eyes shot open as he inhaled a deep, sharp breath. He was back in New York City. The tear he cried in his unconscious state left a trail upon his cheek, and it had remained. His hand was balled, as if he were holding another’s hand. His other hand was still upon his cheek. “Mom,” he cried out, not realizing that he was surrounded by his lover and his friends. “No!”
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