Peter WHY...

Peter and Liz stepped into the hospital, the automatic doors sliding open with a soft whoosh. The sterile smell of antiseptic hit them immediately, mingling with the faint hum of the waiting area. They moved toward the elevator, their footsteps echoing on the polished floor. Peter glanced at Liz, noting the slight tension in her shoulders. Still worried about Flash, huh? he thought. 

They stepped into the elevator, and Liz pressed the button for the third floor, where Flash was admitted. The ride was quiet, the only sound the soft ding as they ascended. Peter leaned against the wall, his mind drifting. This place gives me the creeps, he thought. 

The elevator doors slid open, and they stepped out onto the third floor. The hallway was brightly lit, with the occasional beep of medical equipment and the murmur of nurses' voices. Liz led the way, her steps quick, until they reached Room 312. She paused outside, taking a deep breath, then pushed the door open.

Inside, they saw a nurse adjusting the monitors near Flash's bed. Flash lay there, his arm and leg still in casts, his face pale and bruised. The room was small, filled with the faint antiseptic smell and the steady beep of a heart monitor. The nurse, a middle-aged woman with a no-nonsense demeanor, turned to face them. Her name tag read "Nurse Helen."

Liz stepped forward, her voice soft but steady. "Hi, Nurse Helen. It's me, Liz Allan. I visited yesterday. How's Flash doing today?"

Nurse Helen recognized Liz immediately, her expression softening. "Oh, hello, Liz. Good to see you again. I'm afraid there's no change since yesterday. He's stable, but still in a lot of pain. The doctors are hopeful, but it'll be a while before he's back to normal. His injuries are serious—broken bones in his arm and leg, and some internal bruising."

Liz nodded, her eyes flickering to Flash's still form. "Thanks for letting me know. We just wanted to check on him."

Peter stepped forward, offering a polite smile. "Hi, I'm Peter Parker. I'm a classmate of Flash's. Just thought I'd come by to see how he's doing."

Nurse Helen gave him a cursory nod, her attention still mostly on Liz. "Nice to meet you, Peter. It's good of you both to come. He's been in and out of consciousness, but he hasn't said much. If you want to sit with him for a bit, that's fine, but try not to tire him out."

"We won't," Liz assured her. She glanced at Peter, then back at the nurse. "Is there anything else we should know? Any updates on when he might be able to talk more?"

Nurse Helen shook her head. "Not yet. The police have been by a few times, asking questions, but Flash hasn't been able to give them much. They're still investigating who attacked him. It's a nasty business."

Peter's stomach tightened at the mention of the police, but he kept his expression neutral. They're still digging? Let them dig they won't find anything. He forced a concerned tone. "That's rough. Hope they catch whoever did it soon."

The nurse gave a small, tired smile. "We all do. Anyway, I'll leave you two with him for a bit. If you need anything, just press the call button."

"Thanks, Nurse Helen," Liz said, her voice grateful. The nurse nodded and exited the room, leaving Peter and Liz alone with Flash.

Liz pulled up a chair beside the bed, her eyes fixed on Flash's face. Peter lingered near the door, not eager to get too close. he thought. *Flash doesn't deserve this much attention. But Liz… she's worth it. He watched her for a moment, admiring the way she seemed so composed despite the situation. She's got a good heart. Too good for someone like Flash.

"Let's just sit with him for a few minutes," Liz said quietly, breaking his reverie. "I don't want to stay too long, but it feels wrong to just leave."

"Sure," Peter replied, pulling up another chair but keeping a safe distance. *

A few minutes, then we're out of here. Maybe I can convince her to grab that coffee after. Peter thought.

They sat in silence, the only sounds the steady beep of the monitor and Flash's shallow breathing. After a while, Liz sighed and stood up. "Okay, I think that's enough. Let's go."

Peter nodded, relieved. "Yeah, let's head out."

Peter and Liz stepped out of the hospital, the cool afternoon air a welcome relief after the sterile tightness of the building. The sun was beginning to dip lower in the sky, casting long shadows on the sidewalk. Peter glanced at Liz, noting the way her shoulders relaxed slightly now that they were away from Flash's room. 

She's still shaken, but at least we're out of there, he thought. Time to make the most of this.

"Hey, Liz," he said, falling into step beside her, "how about we grab a coffee? Take your mind off things for a bit?"

Liz checked her watch, then nodded, a small smile tugging at her lips. "Sure, Peter. That sounds nice. There's a coffee shop just a block away."

"Perfect," Peter replied, his mood lifting. Score. Maybe this day won't be a total drag after all.

They walked together, the city's hum surrounding them—cars honking, pedestrians chatting. The coffee shop, a cozy little place called "Bean There," came into view, its warm lights spilling onto the sidewalk.

Inside, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee enveloped them. They ordered at the counter—Liz got a latte, and Peter, feeling indulgent, added a vanilla cupcake to his coffee order. They found a small table near the window, the chatter of other patrons creating a comfortable background noise.

As they settled in, Liz wrapped her hands around her cup, staring at the steam rising from it. Peter took a bite of his cupcake, savoring the sweetness, and decided to break the silence. "So, what's new with you? You mentioned your family earlier—how's that going?"

Liz sighed, her eyes meeting his. "It's… complicated. My parents are divorced. It happened a few years ago, but it still feels fresh sometimes. I'm living with my mom now, but I'm planning to move out as soon as I can save up enough. I just want my own space, you know?"

Peter nodded, genuinely intrigued despite his earlier indifference. She's got guts, planning to strike out on her own. "That's tough, but it sounds like you've got a plan. Where do you think you'll go?"

"Maybe a small apartment in Manhattan," Liz said, her voice gaining a bit of excitement. "It's expensive, but I figure if I can land a good job after graduation, I can make it work. What about you? You've got Aunt May and Uncle Ben—how's that?"

Peter leaned back, sipping his coffee. She's interested. Nice. 

"They're great, really. Aunt May's always worrying about me, and Uncle Ben's the kind of guy who thinks everything can be solved with a good talk and a strong work ethic. They've been my rock since… well, forever. Aunt May's a bit old-fashioned, but she means well. Uncle Ben's always pushing me to think about my future, like college and stuff."

Liz's eyes lit up with curiosity. "That's sweet. It must be nice to have them around. My mom's okay, but it's just us, and sometimes it feels lonely. I envy you having that kind of stability."

"Yeah, it is," Peter admitted, surprised at how easy it was to talk to her. 

"They're always there, even when I mess up. Aunt May's been cooking these huge meals lately, like she thinks I'm starving or something."

Liz laughed softly, the sound warm and genuine. "That's adorable. My mom's more of a takeout person. We're not big on cooking."

They chatted for a while longer, the conversation flowing easily between family stories and lighthearted school gossip. Peter found himself relaxing, the weight of his secret life as Spider-Man momentarily forgotten. 

This is better than patrol, he thought. No bad guys, no guilt—just Liz and a cupcake.

After about half an hour, Liz glanced at her watch again. "I should probably head home. Thanks for the coffee, Peter. This was nice."

"No problem," he said, standing up with her. Don't let her go yet. "Let me call you a cab. It's getting late."

She nodded, and Peter stepped outside to flag down a cab. One pulled up quickly, and he opened the door for her. "Take care, Liz. Let me know how things go, okay?"

"I will," she replied, giving him a grateful smile. "See you at school."

He watched as the cab drove off, then turned toward home, a satisfied grin on his face. *Not a bad afternoon.

Peter walked back to his house, When he reached the familiar porch of Aunt May and Uncle Ben's home, he slipped inside quietly, hoping to avoid too many questions.