Peter | Hope
Now she was closer, Peter could see that although her clothes looked about like they'd been through as much as his, Hope looked markedly less battered and bruised. But he'd seem her fight - even if there hadn't been some weird, spidery part of him that felt the power coming off of her, that would have told him something. Peter healed fast - his would probably be gone by tomorrow - but this girl seemed to be something completely different.
"Yeah," he said, quickly. It wasn't true. It was very obviously not true, but he wasn't sure how best to say that. Instead Peter pulled in a shaky, deep breath. It flooded his lungs almost painfully as the image of his Aunt's expression swelled again in his mind's eye.
"What do you think they wanted?" he asked, after a beat. He still didn't sound much like himself. Peter's fingers twitched at his side, and he absently started to unstrap the web shooter from his wrist. It needed checking, but more than that, he needed to keep his hands busy. "I mean," he continued, not lifting his gaze from the job at hand, "that was pretty messed up."