Finn was startled again, when he snapped his eyes open, he saw Peter looking at him with a very complex and heavy gaze.
What's wrong?" Finn blinked, looking completely bewildered, could be described as filled with confusion. "Why are you looking at me like that?
[Where did this Misery Value come from? Am I not supposed to sleep?]
—Can sleeping obediently even earn Misery Value?
—Because you feel bad for me? Feel bad for what? Feel bad that I sleep too much?
—Because I'm usually so full of energy that I don't need a nap at all, is that why seeing me sleep makes you feel bad for me?
Finn only felt it was completely absurd, but if that was the case—
Don't feel bad! I don't have to sleep, I'll get up right now and play with you!!
Seeing that Finn looked as if he were about to perform a jumping start on the hospital bed for him in the next second, Peter reached out and steadily pressed down on Finn's shoulders.
"Can you get some good sleep, okay?" At least, Peter could see that Finn looked exhausted right now, lacking any spirit or strength, completely different from the vibrant energy the young man usually displayed.
Actually, I can't sleep either." Finn was afraid that if he closed his eyes, Peter would give him more Misery Value, so he spoke to explain, "Do you know that feeling? It's when I feel so tired and sleepy, but I just can't fall asleep, my mind is so clear that it's uncomfortable.
This wasn't an excuse; Finn's body had not yet fully recovered from his previous illness, making it difficult even to fall asleep.
Peter also didn't know what to do about Finn's situation. Should he take more medicine?
But Finn had already taken quite a lot of medication.
Peter cast a pleading look toward Catherine, who was sitting on the sofa. Catherine walked over, her gaze sweeping over the two of them, she suddenly had an idea.
Peter, why don't you sleep with Young Master Finn for a while." Catherine said to Peter gently, "You haven't had any proper rest these past few days either.
Spider-Man froze, his eyes widening slightly: "?" Was this even a solution?
"Sure." Finn didn't think much of it; Noah had already changed a large bed for him.
Finn shifted over, casually making room for Peter, even reached out to pat the spot.
Peter: ".."
Since the atmosphere had already been built up to this point, Peter certainly had his own selfish motives, he still climbed onto the bed with red ears, bracing himself as he took off his shoes and coat, though he was careful to maintain an appropriate distance from Finn, mainly because he was simply afraid that the sound of his racing heart would be too loud. Just as he had settled in, Catherine thoughtfully drew the curtains and then quietly closed the ward door as she left.
Peter: ".." She was a bit too considerate.
Spider-Man always felt that perhaps the scene of sharing a bed with Finn before had caused Catherine to misunderstand the relationship between them. However, Finn clearly had no such perception.
"I'll sleep with you," Peter said. He couldn't help but remember the last time he shared a bed with Finn, when Finn had held him and seemed to sleep very soundly.
"Okay." Finn nodded, but then closed his eyes again.
With the two of them so close, Peter's gaze involuntarily settled on Finn's face.
He looked at the young man's fair skin, which bore a hint of sickly exhaustion, his long, thick eyelashes were softly closed, just enough to conceal those clear, emerald green eyes, leaving only a soft nose and slightly pale lips visible; he looked incredibly well-behaved.
But only a few seconds later, Peter's mind rang again—no, it was Finn's inner thoughts exploding in his head—
System PP, what should I do next? Should I continue advancing my plotline?
I'll have to revise it, but how should I revise it?
I've run out of ideas, my mind is a mess! Sigh, I might as well have spent yesterday catching Harry and firing fifty questions at him in a row.
[Seize the opportunity! Fight to the end! Maybe we would have cleared the level by now?]
[No, no, I can't just give up like this. I must execute the mission with a plan and an attitude.]
Spider-Man: ".."
—Is he being well-behaved? He was just faking it.
Immediately after, another series of chaotic inner thoughts swirled in Peter Parker's mind.
"Finn.." Peter really couldn't help himself and softly called out to him.
"Hmm?" Finn opened his green eyes again and looked at him in confusion, like a little kitten that had been unexpectedly patted.
"Sleep well," Peter said helplessly.
"I am sleeping well!" Finn said, feeling very indignant.
Peter: ".." But your inner thoughts are too loud.
"If you don't want to sleep yet, then chat with me for a while." Peter sighed, speaking in a different tone.
"What should I say?" Finn perked up again and leaned closer to Peter as he asked.
"Anything is fine." Peter looked at the young man before him and said with a smile.
"I want to be discharged. I want to go out and play," Finn said very seriously.
"When you can be discharged, I'll take you out to play." It was just that Peter also didn't know when Finn would be able to be discharged.
"When you have time, bring your Switch to my place, we can play co-op games together," Finn suddenly thought of again.
"Did you forget that you injured your arm?" Peter clearly felt this was inappropriate.
"I can." Finn tried to wave his hand dismissively, but as soon as he moved, a sharp pain shot through his arm, he couldn't help but frown.
"Don't do that, be careful." Peter immediately and anxiously pressed down on Finn's wrist with concern.
I want to go back and unwrap my birthday presents; I haven't finished unwrapping them all yet. I want to go to Blake's studio; he keeps saying his games have easter eggs but never tells me, so I want to go and ask him face-to-face. I also haven't been to Anthony's Rat Rise venue for several days, so I don't know what it looks like now." Finn rambled on, his speaking speed increasing, his eyes shimmering with anticipation. He seemed to always have endless things to do, always full of passion for everything around him. "Oh, right, I was really too busy a while ago. Kyle asked me last time to go play Werewolf after my birthday passed, I was thinking of bringing you along to play too.
Listening to him, Peter also thought of the lively scene from the last time they played Werewolf together, the corners of his mouth curled up involuntarily. "We can play Werewolf now, too."
"How can two people play?" Finn was stunned, looking at him with a face full of confusion.
"What role do you want to play?" Peter didn't answer, but instead asked him back.
I want to be the Werewolf!" Finn said immediately, even intentionally making a fierce expression and baring his teeth as he said, "I'll bite you tonight!
Peter couldn't help but burst out laughing.
That was just how Finn was; even when he chose a villainous role for himself, he couldn't hide the kindness and softness deep within his soul.
He is essentially a good person, yet he insists on taking the Werewolf card.
Then, he thought only of slaughtering the Werewolf to ensure the Good players' victory.
"You can't be the Werewolf; there are only two of us in total," Finn reminded him with a blink.
"Then I'm not a Civilian, not a Police, not a Hunter, not a Witch," Peter said, intentionally leaving a sense of suspense.
"Then who else could you be?" Finn was completely bewildered by Peter.
"I am the Judge," Peter said with a smile.
Finn opened his beautiful emerald eyes, his face filled with incomprehension.
Peter was amused by Finn's blank expression, yet he still couldn't help but reach out and embrace Finn, his heart fluttering.
As the young man's thin back was pulled into his embrace, Peter only hoped that Finn could feel that human warmth was the warmth he loved, that a human embrace was the touch he loved, that it would help him fall into a light and peaceful sleep.
Wrapped in layers of such a gentle atmosphere, the chaotic thoughts in Finn's mind seemed to dissipate along with it. The young man leaned quietly into Peter's embrace, his eyelids slowly drooping, his gaze weary and vacant, looking at nothing in particular. The surging waves of excitement receded like a tide, leaving behind only a heavy sense of exhaustion that pressed down on him, making him feel truly, profoundly tired.
Two young faces were extremely close to each other.
The two of them leaned against each other like this, lying quietly on the hospital bed, a small corner of their small but very secure world.
Peter patted the young man's back, stroke by stroke, extremely lightly.
Because, I am the Judge.
So—
Whether you are a Werewolf or my Life-long Nemesis.
I will not fear you.
No matter what you do, you will never be able to hurt me.
Even if this game comes to an end, I will watch you until the very moment it ends.
I only have one rule right now.
Eyes closed, the night falls.
Finn, it's time to sleep.
Chapter 49: Torture and Reconciliation
When Andrew Damon returned home, he was met with a familiar stench of alcohol.
He frowned as usual, too lazy to bother with his father, who was slumped on the living room sofa, wanting only to bypass him and check on his mother, who was resting in her bedroom. But before his feet could even reach the door to his mother's bedroom, his collar was violently grabbed by a surge of brute strength, pushing him heavily against the hard wall, as a ferocious roar from his father crashed against his ears.
“Where were you last night? Why didn't you answer your phone!”
"I was sleeping at Matt's place." Andrew didn't come back last night; he was so worried about Finn's condition that he simply didn't want to go home. Under the insistence of Mr, Mrs. Wilson, Andrew had no choice but to find some random corner near the hospital to get a few hours of sleep, then, as soon as it was light out, he went to buy some fruit and returned to watch over Finn's ward. As for not answering the phone, he naturally did not want to waste any more energy arguing with his unreasonable father; he was already exhausted himself.
It wasn't until today, when he felt that Finn's condition had significantly improved, that he could finally return with peace of mind.
Matt? You little brat! You think you can fool me?" The man's gaze swept over the conspicuous bruise on Andrew's forehead; he froze for a moment before his anger flared even more, he demanded sternly, "Were you beaten up by someone outside?
"No, I hit a wall myself." Andrew shook his head.
"How can you hit your head against a wall and end up looking like this? Who taught you that? You're full of lies now!" The man grew even more furious.
"If you don't believe me, then forget it." Andrew curled his lips, letting out a very faint, mocking sneer.
Andrew thought to himself, if you went and ran into a few more walls, you'd realize you could really end up looking like this.
What on earth have you been doing out there? Getting yourself into such a pathetic state?" Seeing Andrew's indifferent attitude, Damon was incensed. He reached out with a rough hand and snatched the name tag hanging from Andrew's chest—the one Finn had personally given him. "And you're still wearing this ridiculous thing!
Give it back to me!
Andrew Damon suddenly looked up.
For the first time, a scorching fire of rage and urgency ignited within the young man's dead-still eyes, he instinctively reached out to snatch it.
So you've become that rich young master's lackey, have you? Do you feel quite grand now? You even dared to skip class for this?" The man gripped the ID badge tightly in his palm, his voice filled with angry contempt. "What is this piece of junk? A secretary? How old are you that you're acting like a secretary? It's nothing more than a dog tag, you keep wearing it—don't you find it embarrassing?
Damon only felt it was utterly ridiculous.
Damon could certainly see the changes in Andrew over these past few days. Leaving home early and returning late had become the norm; he often returned with a significant amount of cash, yesterday, he had even gone completely missing, failing to return home for the night, only to show up at the house now covered in injuries.
What do those wealthy young masters take you for? A punching bag? They tease you, mock you, beat you until you're bleeding, then toss you a bit of dirty money, you just come crawling back like a dog with its tail wagging, is that it?" The man's sharp words stabbed into Andrew's heart one by one. "Have you thrown away your dignity just for money?