~Broken Family~

Don't Drink That Gatorade

A/N: that video's just a trailer for a baseball short I just thought it was cool cause Ty Simpkins is in it (the guy that plays Harley) :)

One Year Later

Typical.

On Peter's sixteenth birthday, he got to have a little party with Tony and another one with nearly everybody he knew.

Harley had to have therapy.

Not physical therapy, although he'd had his fair share of that.

"Well," the doctor in front of him sighed, pushing his glasses up his Gru-like nose. "It's normal to be feeling these emotions that you're experiencing. We've all had them since..." his voice wisely trailed off.

Harley shrugged from the uncomfortable chair he was sitting on, stretching out his left leg in front of him. A brace was clipped to it and a crutch rested against the chair.

The therapist sighed in frustration. "Harley, just continue working on that journal we talked about last week." The one I dumped into the toilet? "It helps if you write stuff down. It helps even more if you talk to people. Get out and about, go for a walk down by the---"

"Gee, thanks for the suggestion," Harley snapped, growing frustrated, "but that last one'll kinda be a problem."

He watched in smug satisfaction as the therapist squirmed uncomfortably. "That's not what I meant. Just---"

"Sure, sure. Nobody ever does."

The therapist pursed his lips. "Thank you for your time, Mr. Keener, and I suggest you get to class and let the next group of students come in."

Harley sighed and stood, leaning heavily against the desk as he leaned down to reach his crutch.

"Close the door on your way out!" the teacher yelled as Harley went into the hallway of the school. He left the door wide open.

People skirted to avoid him as he limped through the halls, keeping his hooded head down. Even for the last week of school, whispers followed him as his crutch clicked against the floor with his uneven gait.

"Crutchie," someone laughed as he passed by.

Harley ignored them.

He joined a group of rowdy boys dressed in baseball uniforms outside by the bus stop, pushing his hood back and running a hand through his greasy hair.

"Hey, Harley," Silas acknowledged. That was all anyone said to him before they crammed into the bus, everyone already sweaty and stinky before the game had even started.

Harley couldn't believe they had to play the Rebels. That team was so good, there was no way they would be able to win. It was a sure loss.

The feeling of nervousness and pre-defeat was heavy in the air on the bus as they drove to Northwest High School where the game would take place, but they tried to boost the mood by playing a game of baseball trivia. Winner got the extra gatorade.

Obviously, Harley couldn't play baseball very well anymore. But since he still had one working leg and two perfectly good arms, the coach had placed him as a pitcher, sometimes allowing him to slip out as a baseman or even a catcher, if he was lucky. The coach had been reluctant to let him on the team, but one glance from Tony Stark was all he needed.

It was better than nothing, he guessed.

Still, it hadn't been him who had wanted to play baseball. He had wanted to close off that section of his life---actually, wanted to close off his entire life in general---but Tony had made him do it. Said it was "good for him to get out and about."