Wings || Peter Parker

45: Car

Tw: unintentional self harm, aggressive relationship behavior

"So tell me the full story," Tony said sternly, walking to his side of the car.

I pursed my lips, everything rushing back. Tears immediately found their way to my face. "Um. We went out for Pete."

"Yep." He nodded, glancing in the mirror.

"You took him back, but then I yelled at Max." I muttered. Guilt tore a hole in my stomach, finally giving me time to process it. Something lodged in my throat, trying to stop me from talking. "And I um, I pushed her."

"Where?" He asked, annoyed. 

"Off the roof." I continued. "And-"

"Then she just flew back to wherever she was hiding." Tony completed the story. "Ugh, I'll have to send out more drones. But that still doesn't explain the whole, max parker, swinging around on a van and threatening police officers."

"No."

"No what?"

"No, she didn't fly away." I dug my nails into my palms, grimacing, but the pain took away the anxiety. "She just..."

"What do you mean, she didn't fly away?" Tony repeated, squinting his eyes trying to decipher my words.

"She just, she just." I swallowed. "She fell," I muttered, wiping tears. "I yelled at her and pushed her. And she didn't come back up. And then the men came and put her in that van, and then I ran after it and climbed on the back and then the police pulled them over and then I took their guns and shot the other guys because they were trying to take Max and..."

Tony didn't say anything the rest of the ride. I looked at him. He was crying. I didn't say anything.

We pulled into the garage, and I immediately ran to the elevator.

"Wait," Tony warned, parking the car before taking his time to walk to me. "We'll be talking later. He's in his room."

"Thank you." I shoved all my feelings about everything else deep down, wiping my tears and spamming the button until the doors opened.

I spammed the inside button as well, until FRIDAY yelled at me to stop it.

The doors slid open and I rushed down the hall, throwing open Peter's door.

He was lying in bed, bandages on his chest and shoulder, the blankets covering everything else. Not like I hadn't seen it before.

The bandages were clean, for the most part. A good sign. And he was smiling, when he saw me.

Tony left me for a conference with everyone else, letting me stay alone with Peter.

"Hey." He smiled, from the comfortable position of his bed.

"Are you okay?" I asked frantically. I rushed to his side of the bed. "Oh my god, what happened?"

"I'm okay." He rolled to face me, scorching over and lifting up the covers for me.

"Really?"

"Yeah, and I don't want you sleeping on the floor." He chuckled, watching as I pulled off my shoes and hoodie, crawling in next to him. "Is Max okay?"

"What? She's fine. Just, talking to Tony."

"No, she's not." He muttered. "I can hear him. He's talking to Aunt Nat..." He paused, shuffling after a moment to face me. "What does he mean she's gone." 

"What?"

"She's gone. That's what he said." Peter craned his neck to the door. "And you climbed on the back of a van?"

"Oh." I froze. "Um."

Tears were already coming back.

"Harley, what happened?"

"Um..." My lips quivered, trying to talk.

"It's okay," Peter muttered. "It's okay. I just need to know what happened."

I stayed silent.

"Can you please answer me?" He asked. His eyes were glossy. "I need to know."

"No," I muttered. "No, I can't tell you."

"Why."

All I did was shake my head.

Peter frowned, a tear slipping down his cheek.

"Look, Harley, I just got shot and it sounds like Max got kidnapped. I need to know what happened!" His voice was raised, his eyes already red. "Please tell me what's going on!"

I stared at him, shaking. He was always so nice, no matter what.

"Harley!" He warned. "Can you at least talk to me?"

He was sitting up now. Glaring at me.

"No."

He didn't move for another few seconds.

"Harley something big happened. And I need to fucking know! You have to tell me! I'm not listening to anyone else!" He was standing. He had plaid pants on, and the only thing covering his chest were the bandages.

I moved to a sitting position, not talking. I couldn't. My whole body was shaking, my eyes red and puffy.

His eyes had deep dark circles under them, along with the redness from wiping the tears away. He had his brows furrowed, and his mouth was clenched shut in anger.

"Harley!" He shouted, standing in front of me.

I'd never seen him like this before.

"Tell me what happened!" He screamed, punching the wall next to him.

I stared. He turned to the wall and watched as the drywall cracked around his fist, frozen in the wall. There were wood splinters, and then a metallic screech as the rest of the wall crumbled around it, the titanium enforcements moving from his strength.

"Fuck." He froze.

He stood for at least a minute. 

Finally, he pulled his fist out of the wall. It was bleeding, covered in dust and wood slivers. He stared at his hand, tears dripping off his face and leaving dots of skin revealed through the powder on his hands.

It was all over the floor as well, the crack in the wall spanning from his fist to the carpet.

"Fuck." He glanced at me, face stained with tears and a light layer of dust from the drywall. "I'm sorry." His voice cracked as he wiped it off. His knuckles were deep red, and the rest of his hand showed pink through the dust coating it.

Clumps of dust clung to the teardrops, turning the light powder into crumbles falling onto the floor. His knuckles were speckled with dark spots, all the slivers. Each and every one had blood dripping from the end.

"Harley." He breathed. "I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry." He shook his hands out, shivering. "Please, Harley I'm sorry."

I stared. My fingers were shaking. Shivers ran up my spine, and a new layer of tears acted my vision, making the boy a blurry figure.

"Harley." Peter stepped towards me, and I scrambled back. I slid off the other side of his bed, backing up to the door.

He stepped back. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to-"

I ignored him and slammed the door behind me.