Resilience | ✔

Chapter Twenty-Nine

It was the familiar CLANK of Tony's suit slamming into the ground that told Marley her hearing was back. Her name, bellowed a split second later, only solidified this.

"Back corner!" she called. Her voice sounded odd in her ears. She didn't know if it was residual damage from the three gunshots or shock.

Metal clanged on the floor, and Tony appeared at the end of the aisle, suit on, faceplate and helmet down. He took in the scene: Jackson dead with a gun beside him. Marley, bloody-handed, still applying pressure to Peter's wound. The gun on the floor beside her.

Her father blinked once. Twice.

Marley's jaw hurt. Marley's everything hurt. She relaxed her mouth and the pain receded. She hadn't realized she'd been gritting her teeth so hard.

Tony moved.

"How long has he been shot?" He came down the aisle, grabbing Jackson's gun as he did.

Marley did some quick calculating. "Fifteen minutes, give or take."

"Shit," Tony said. His helmet folded up around his head. "All right, F.R.I.D.A.Y.'s saying he's still salvageable. Come with me."

He picked Peter up. Marley grabbed a few more towels and followed her dad. He carried the bleeding boy to the Quinjet and laid him on the floor, arranging him back in the recovery position. Marley knelt and fixed the towels over his wound.

"Kiddo," Tony said, and Marley looked up. His helmet folded back down. His eyes were dark and serious. "Get him to the compound. Call ahead and tell Rhodey you're coming. He'll know what to do. Don't tell him what happened tonight. Don't tell him how Peter got shot. Don't tell him a damn thing. Understand?"

Marley nodded mutely.

"Okay. Good. I'll be about seven minutes behind you." He started down the ramp. "F.R.I.D.A.Y., get this plane back to the compound. Full speed."

"Yes, boss," F.R.I.D.A.Y. replied. Tony stepped off the ramp and turned, making eye contact with his daughter as the door started to close. "We'll talk when everything's settled down, okay?"

Marley nodded.

The door shut, and the Quinjet lifted into the air. Marley shut her eyes and took a deep breath. Don't think. "F.R.I.D.A.Y., get me Rhodey."

"Calling him," the AI reported.

Marley watched the buildings sink out of sight through the front window. Peter was still limp under her hands. Don't you dare die on me, Parker. Oh, shit, his aunt was going to fucking kill her.

"Marley?" Rhodey's sleep-filled voice filled the cabin. "Is everything okay?"

His voice did not have the soothing quality she'd hoped it would. No, hearing him just made her more tense. "No, it's not, actually. Peter got shot. I'm en route with him to the compound. Tony said you'd know what to do."

"Peter? Peter Parker Peter? Spider-Man Peter?"

"Yeah."

"Oh . . . kay," Rhodey said. "Yeah. Yeah, I know what to do. How far out are you?"

God bless him for adapting. God fucking bless James Rhodes. Marley craned her neck to read the display. "Fifteen minutes."

Her uncle blew out a breath. "All right. You're applying pressure to the wound?"

"Yes."

"Bandages of some sort?"

"Just clumped over the wound."