Human [drabble]
Peter never used to smoke.
His training as a nurse had made him far too aware of the dangers of certain vices, and his conscious would never be clear were he to hypocritically discourage their usage while still partaking in them himself.
But more importantly, Nathan disproved of it.
To the child-Peter, his word was enough. He so fervently hero-worshipped his older brother that anything Nathan disliked, Peter disliked, even if he didn’t understand why he didn’t like it. He trusted Nathan to make the right decisions.
But that was a long time ago, back when Peter never used to fly, turn invisible, or save the world either.
Time had changed him.
Now he found something deeply spiritual in inhaling the deadly smoke and imprisoning it in his lungs, in the delicate way the smoke danced toward the sky.
In those few moments, before his body began to repair itself, as the toxins seared his lungs and drove him one step closer to death - as close as he would ever get - he knew he was still human.
And if he was still human, then he was still Peter.
Because sometimes, as he stared at the bitter, scarred man in the mirror, he didn’t recognize himself.
His training as a nurse had made him far too aware of the dangers of certain vices, and his conscious would never be clear were he to hypocritically discourage their usage while still partaking in them himself.
But more importantly, Nathan disproved of it.
To the child-Peter, his word was enough. He so fervently hero-worshipped his older brother that anything Nathan disliked, Peter disliked, even if he didn’t understand why he didn’t like it. He trusted Nathan to make the right decisions.
But that was a long time ago, back when Peter never used to fly, turn invisible, or save the world either.
Time had changed him.
Now he found something deeply spiritual in inhaling the deadly smoke and imprisoning it in his lungs, in the delicate way the smoke danced toward the sky.
In those few moments, before his body began to repair itself, as the toxins seared his lungs and drove him one step closer to death - as close as he would ever get - he knew he was still human.
And if he was still human, then he was still Peter.
Because sometimes, as he stared at the bitter, scarred man in the mirror, he didn’t recognize himself.