Would You Miss Me? || parley

Part 4

today's mental event was my dad telling me I was the reason he drank (that sounds so bad omfg) and also I had one meal today

We thriving over here

anyway so I think I forgot a tw on the last chapter but at this point if you're still reading I mean idk

TW: mentions of sh, blood, guns/gunshot wounds, death, stitches

Disclaimer: I don't own Marvel.

3rd Person P.O.V.

"So..."

"Could you leave please," Peter mumbled, averting his eyes. Harley seemed disappointed, but stood up.

"Oh... yeah, sure. I'm across the hall if you need me." Peter winced.

"Ok." Harley was at the doorway when the brunette spoke again. "Thank you." His voice was barely more than a whisper, and his gaze was down, but it still meant something to the southern boy.

"No problem, darlin'." Harley smiled, leaving Peter's room. He headed to his own room, sitting down on the bed. "Did I really just call him 'darlin'?'" He said aloud, groaning. He had known Peter for less than an hour- most of which he was helping the smaller boy bandage his self-inflicted cuts. And yet, it seemed an hour was plenty to make Harley feel something toward Peter. What those feelings were, he wasn't sure yet, but one thing was clear to him: he wanted nothing but the best for the small brunette boy across the hall.

Harley sighed, getting up. He was about to get up and go back to dinner, but stopped. There was some of Peter's blood on his knee. The blond boy shuddered, heading to his bathroom to try and wash it out. He eventually gave up and just changed clothes, walking out to go back to talk to the Avengers. He noticed Peter's door was closed, after he had left it open. Harley frowned, knowing the brunette must've gotten up to close the door.

Pushing his worry to the back of his mind, the southern boy rejoined the Avengers in the dining room, where they were all still standing around and chatting. This was his chance to make a good first impression, he couldn't mess this up.

~

Peter watched as Harley left, waiting until the blond was out of sight to get up and close the door. His leg burned, pure agony twisting its way in and out of the cuts. Grimacing, Peter suited up, escaping through the window. He needed some fresh air, and maybe some reckless hero work. Right on cue, a gunshot echoed through the air. Peter jumped off the side of the building, using his webs to catch himself.

should've let yourself hit the ground

He swung toward the gunshot, perching on a ledge and immediately regretting it. A flash of white hot pain ran through his leg, Peter trying to take deep breaths. He could get through it, it would be fine. He tried to focus his attention on the situation below, observing from a distance. He spotted a man with a hostage held at gunpoint, yelling at the police.

Peter snuck in behind the man with the gun, ready to knock him out.

"Eh! Watch out!" Peter turned around, and so did the man with the gun. He hit Peter in the head with the butt of his gun, swiftly flipping around and shooting the hostage. She collapsed to the ground, blood and brain matter splattered on the dirty pavement.

"So you're the 'amazing Spiderman,' hmm?" The man chuckled darkly. "Don't seem too amazing to me." The second guy, who had yelled the warning, joined the man with the gun.

"Take care of him." Peter heard the click of the gun, knowing he didn't have too much time. Suddenly, two gunshots went off, one bullet lodging itself in Peter's abdomen, and the other, fired by one of the cops, digging into the leg of the man who had just shot Peter. The men fled, the injured one being supported by the other.

The police came over to mark off the crime scene, Peter quickly taking off before they could talk to him. He fled to a rooftop, abdomen leaking blood and head pounding. The brunette felt dizzy, whether from blood loss or the concussion he was almost positive existed, Peter didn't know. He ripped his mask off, trying to calm his breathing. It was fine, he had been shot before, but Peter wasn't too sure he wanted to face Mister Banner in medical.

His mind wandered to Harley. The image was fuzzy, but definitely there. The blond had shown him kindness, when Peter had given him no reason to care. He sighed. Maybe he should go ask Harley for help? Could he take care of this on his own? Peter bit his lip. Harley didn't know he was Spiderman... would he freak out? I mean, Peter did have a bullet hole in his stomach...

~

Harley yawned. He liked talking to the Avengers, but his flight was early that morning, and he was exhausted. He thanked everyone, heading back to his room to get ready for bed. He rifled through his clothes, picking out a pair of gray sweatpants to wear. He changed into them, taking off his shirt as well. He was in the bathroom brushing his teeth when he heard a knock.

"Coming!" He ran out, opening the door. Nobody was there, and Harley frowned. Then he heard the knock again, turning to face the windows. He was immediately on his guard. He threw back the curtain to reveal-

"Peter?" Harley opened the window, watching the brunette tumble in, wearing a Spiderman suit and bleeding profusely from his abdomen. "Holy shit."

"I can explain-"

"Save it." Harley quickly looped his arm under Peter, hoisting him up in his arms for the second time that day. "Take your suit off," he instructed, grabbing the first aid kit from under the sink. Peter grumbled a little under his breath, but complied, removing the suit. He was left in nothing but his underwear, feeling rather exposed in front of the southern boy.

"It's not that bad-"

"You literally have a bullet hole in your stomach, shut up." Harley wrinkled his nose, finding a pair of tweezers in the kit. Peter eyed them nervously.

"What are you doing?"

"I think the bullet's still inside," the blond answered, poking around in the gunshot wound. Peter clamped a hand over his mouth, trying not to scream in pain. "Got it." Harley pulled out a bloody bullet, setting it on a towel.

"Oh my God," the brunette murmured.

"Yeah." Harley examined the hole in Peter's abdomen, frowning. "Do you think it needs stitches?"

"What? It's just a bullet hole, it'll be fine." Harley stared at Peter with an amazed look.

"You say that like you get shot a lot." Peter shrugged. Harley shook his head, but didn't say anything, instead silently taping a bandage over the wound. "There."

"Great. Thanks," Peter mumbled.

"Yeah, of course."

I'm not gonna read it to see if it makes sense cause I'm sleepy and so exhausted exhausted

If you're not here from my parley one shots then you should go check those out :)