The World I Knew [Discontinued]

School Supplies

Hope aimed her fist at the cement between them, before a laser shot out of her wrist, cutting a human-sized hole in the cement. Peter grabbed it before it could fall, and caught it when the cement gave way. He lifted it carefully out of its spot, and set it next to them, and gestured into the hole. "Ladies first."

Hope rolled her eyes at him again, "You're just scared that there might be zombies there after all."

Peter frowned. "No, that actually didn't cross my mind. I was just trying to be funny or gentlemanly, depending on how you wanted to take it."

"You're really bad at being funny," she said, before hopping in.

Peter crept in after her. "Yeah, I knew that, but you didn't have to say it outright." He landed beside her with a soft thud. "Bad guys telling me? Sure. But a fellow superhero?" He pouted slightly, "That just hurts."

"Well, luckily all those bad guys are dead now."

"Um, despite them not liking me, I never wanted them to be dead, so..." Peter's eyes locked onto a sink. "Bingo." He walked over to the sink and turned on the faucet. It gurgled for a heart-stopping moment, then water sprayed into the sink. He turned down the pressure to keep quiet, and stuck his hands under, biting down on his hiss of pain as the water stung the raw flesh of his palms, washing away the crusted blood.

He rubbed a finger along the wounds, gritting his teeth against the sting as he washed the dirt out. He lathered soap all along his hands, resisting the urge to curl his hands into fists, and glanced over his shoulder when he sensed Hope approaching. She held a small bottle of cleaning alcohol, and some bandages. She set them down on the counter beside him, looking at his hands.

"Looks like that hurts," she commented.

Peter shrugged. "I've had worse."

"It's gonna hurt more when we put the alcohol on it."

"I've had worse," he insisted. "Let's just get it over with and get out of here. Besides, don't guys have less tactile acuity than girls?" He grinned at her to show he was only joking.
She rolled her eyes. "Great. The zombie apocalypse happens, and I get stuck with the most annoying kid on earth."

"I'm not the most annoying," Peter argued. "The most annoying person is Flash Thompson." He bit his lip, regretting his words. "I take that back. He wasn't that bad." He shook his head, "Just pour it on already before I can embarrass myself even more." He turned off the water, and braced his elbows against the sink to keep his hands as still as possible.

Hope unscrewed the cap to the cleaning alcohol, and poured it sparingly on his hands, Peter gasping, fingers cramping in a rejected attempt to make a fist. He grunted in pain and took a step back, keeping his hands in place, and pressed his forehead to the sink between his arms, trying to focus on the cool marble against his forehead, or anything else to distract himself from the intense, now burning sting in his hands.

The stream of alcohol stopped, and Peter did his best to keep his composure, to not squirm under the pain.

"You were right," he grunted, teeth gritted so painfully that he could feel a headache coming on. "That hurts."

"Always trust the women," Hope said, almost smugly.

"Unless they're proven wrong," Peter pointed out. "Reason always works, whether you're a guy or girl." He straightened up, letting his head tilt back to look at the ceiling and shifting his weight from foot to foot in discomfort. "Let's just fix sexism right here, right now. Girls have their strengths, boys have theirs, and it's the same with weaknesses. Neither are perfect, and there's a delicate balance between the two. Tell me if I'm wrong--and be realistic, no affective opinions."