“Better-ish.”
Saturday, December 17
Harry wasn’t nervous, he was… excited? anxious?… he was something that had his leg shaking and his fingers tapping out on the arm of his wheelchair.
Harry had spent his morning down at the VA, hanging out with Anderson, Greene, and the others, just talking and watching them try on the fake limbs Tony made just for them. Tony took their measurements the first time they went and then Harry hardly saw him all week with as much time as he spent in his lab, creating working arms and legs out of metal.
Greene had cried, sobbed really, and held Harry’s arm like a lifeline while Tony fit the fake legs over his kneecaps. The brilliant thing was that a few of the others had cried too, even Godwin, who was waiting patiently for Tony to make her fake arms to replace the two she lost. They all cried with Greene because they’d been happy for him.
Harry didn’t cry, but he’d seen everyone looking like they were happy and miserable and Greene looked like Tony gave him back his entire life.
It was… it was painful.
It was painful that Greene lost both his legs and it was painful to see a group of adults - all younger than Tony, most of them younger than Sirius - crying because of Greene getting something that he never should have lost.
And now Harry was just supposed to go out with Peter… on a date… in his wheelchair…
They’d hung out since Harry hesitantly agreed to restart their relationship, but always in the Tower. Aside from physical therapy and regular therapy, and the two times he went to the VA, Harry hadn’t been out and about much.
If Harry didn’t desperately need to finish Christmas shopping, he still had to find something for Tony, Sirius, and Pepper, then he might not bother. Peter probably would have caved and stayed there, maybe watched a movie or something, but he said he had something ‘freaking amazing’ to show Harry and Harry wasn’t going to ruin it.
Peter text Harry right at five, asking if he would meet him in the lobby.
“I’m leaving,” Harry called to his dad when he wheeled past the lab he was in. The hand he’d made for Simmons didn’t fit right and he wanted to make it more comfortable for her before next week.
Tony poked his head out while Harry waited for the lift and Harry bit back a grin at his appearance. Tony’s hair was as messy as Harry’s usually was, standing up in wild clumps as if he’d been running his fingers through it repeatedly. There were black streaks of grease on his face and it looked like it took Tony a moment to even recognize Harry.
“Oh, date night with Petey?” Tony asked once his eyes focused on Harry. “Have fun,” he said when Harry nodded. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
Harry paused in the door of the lift, considering that for a moment.
“Is there anything you wouldn’t do?”
Tony grinned and gave Harry a playful salute. “That’s the spirit, kid. I’ll see you later, love you.”
Harry echoed the sentiment back to him and then rolled his eyes when Tony promptly disappeared in the lab.
“Jarvis? Will you make sure he eats?” Harry asked quietly while he rode the lift down to the lobby that wouldn’t be busy on a Saturday.
“Yes, Mister Harry. Shall I disconnect the power to his lab when food arrives?”
Harry grinned at Jarvis’ manipulative scheme. If Tony didn’t want to have a robot tricking him into eating, then he shouldn’t have programmed him that way.
“Yeah, thanks Jarvis,” Harry said. He hesitated for a moment when the lift doors opened, struck by an unfamiliar feeling of fear. It didn’t make sense, not really, but leaving the lift by himself suddenly felt like a monumental decision.
If Harry left the lift and went out with Peter, shopped and laughed and saw whatever it was that Peter was so excited about, it would be before.
Harry’s fingers grasped the bars on the wheels tightly. If Anderson could his fake leg on and have Wilson help him stand up, crying the entire time, then Harry could push himself out there and quit hiding.
He could quit being a coward, if only in this one instance.
It was worth the internal struggle when Harry wheeled out of the lift and the first thing he saw was Peter in the middle of the lobby, bouncing on the balls of his feet, smiling like an idiot.
“Bright Eyes!” Peter somehow smiled even harder when he saw Harry and he came charging over to him. Harry was caught by surprise when he bent down and wrapped a hand behind Harry’s neck and kissed him long and hard right in the center of the room.
“Good day?” Harry asked breathlessly when Peter pulled away, his brown eyes sparkling so brightly.
“Perfect now,” Peter said. “Come on, you’ve gotta see this.”
Harry was eager to see what had Peter in such high spirits and when they made it outside, Harry’s jaw dropped.
“It’s a 2016 Dodge Challenger,” Peter said proudly, running a hand over the glossy hood of the cherry red car that sat in front of the tower. “It’s an SRT, the Hellcat series. She’s got a V8 Hemi engine and it’s a coupe.”
Harry didn’t know what any of that meant, but he knew that car was stunning and looked fast even without moving.
“She?” Harry asked, looking over at Peter with a small grin. “Is this yours?”
“Yes!” Peter said, pulling a key from his pocket and dangling it in the air. “I just bought her today and… and I thought maybe you’d wanna be my first passenger,” he added with just a hint of shyness in his softening smile. “My Aunt May says she’s a death trap, but I swear I’m a good driver.”
“I’ve drove with you before,” Harry reminded him. Harry tried to push away the itch in the leg that didn’t bloody exist at the thought of riding in the beautiful car.
It wasn’t a big deal, not really… but Harry sort of assumed they’d be walking… or having Happy drive.
Happy driving was fine. Tony driving was fine.
Which meant that Peter driving would be fine.
“Where do you want to go first to shop?” Peter asked, hurriedly opening the door for Harry with a playful bow.
Harry looked in the car quickly, seeing nothing but smooth leather seats, a radio system as nice as the ones in Tony’s cars, and red lights that lit up the floors. Harry’s hands shook some as he reached out for the handle at the top of the passenger side and used it to slide himself from the chair to the car, but he did.
It was fine.
“I don’t care,” Harry said absently, looking around the inside of the car, twisting backward to see in the backseat, and then stupidly trying to glance down beneath his own seat. Peter didn’t notice, thankfully, as he was politely folding up Harry’s chair and putting it in the trunk.
By the time Peter climbed in the drivers seat, Harry knew his shirt collar had to be showing proof of the sweat that felt like it was covering his skin, causing it to crawl and shiver.
“We can go to— Harry?” Peter turned the car on, causing the engine to start humming loudly, and Harry dropped his head to his hands, struggling to breathe.
“Woah, hey, you alright? Harry?”
Harry jolted away when Peter’s hand brushed his arm and felt like all the oxygen in the car was gone. Every breath felt like it was coming through a straw and Harry didn’t know which hurt worse in the moment- his left leg or his lungs.
“Everything is going to be fine.”
“Everything is going to be fine.”
“Everything is going to be fine.”
Harry screamed when his car door opened - “You can’t jump from a fucking moving car! Do you have any idea how fast I was driving?!” - and someone yanked him out, holding him tight in their arms.
“I can call your dad or Sirius, or I can take you upstairs?” Warm and familiar hands were holding Harry against a firm chest, one hand cradling his head and the other wrapped around his back. “Shit, Harry? Can you even hear me?”
Harry buried his face down, burrowing hard in a soft crook between a shoulder and neck, and tried to make his lungs work while he held tightly to someone.
There was no pain in his leg because it was broken anymore, it was gone.
There was no car to jump out of, the engine was off and it was quiet aside from someone’s high pitched and wheezing breaths.
Harry wasn’t on his way to Mexico, left for dead, by someone he thought was his friend, he was…
“‘M fine,” Harry said, his voice shaking as much as the rest of his body. He kept his face hidden as hot and heavy embarrassment washed over him and his surroundings slowly creeped back in Harry’s mind.
Peter rubbed his hand on Harry’s back, apparently perfectly willing to sit on the curb in front of the tower while Harry had a ridiculous meltdown.
“I’m sorry,” Harry breathed, finally pulling away and wondering when it got dark out. Harry averted his eyes from Peter’s and tried to scoot over to a more conventional seating arrangement that wasn’t Harry straddling Peter’s lap. Peter didn’t relinquish his hold though and he merely grinned at Harry.
“I’m actually completely comfortable down here,” Peter said lightly, moving his hand a little lower on Harry’s back. “I mean this so seriously, if you ever get tired of that chair and just want to use me as a seat, you should feel free.”
Harry scowled and then tried not to scowl and wound up scooting over anyway with a grimace as he had to adjust his ‘thigh’ (Wilson told Harry to quit calling it a ‘stump’, but as Wilson had two perfectly good legs, Anderson told him he doesn’t get a vote). Harry didn’t know what to say though, so he just sat there silently until Peter scooted closer and slowly linked their fingers together.
“I have anxiety,” Harry blurted, staring at Peter’s car in front of them and willing himself to be honest. Or at least as honest as Harry could bear being, as repayment for Peter not mocking him mercilessly over his little freak out. “Er… my therapist said it’s a bit more than that, but… but that was stupid, and I’m sorry.”
Because, if nothing else, Harry had quite thoroughly ruined the date that Peter was so excited for.
“It’s not stupid,” Peter disagreed immediately. He squeezed Harry’s hand, but Harry refused to look over at him. “So no driving, that’s cool. Luckily, I’ve got an even better way that we can get to dinner.”
Harry couldn’t help looking over quickly, raising a brow in disbelief. “You- you still want to go out?” he asked, thankfully no longer shaking, but definitely sounding too vulnerable for his own liking.
Peter’s mouth opened for a second and Harry didn’t understand the horrified look in his eyes.
“No, shit, sorry, that’s stupid, right? You don’t want to go out now, wow, I’m—”
Harry talked over him once he realized what Peter was getting at and the two of them seemed to just talk at one another for a minute.
“No, I’m sorry, I figured you’d be freaked out and—”
“—probably upset and want to just stay inside, watch a movie—”
“—trying to ruin it, like usual, I’m bloody—”
Peter suddenly snapped his mouth shut and Harry trailed off awkwardly and the two of them stared at each other right in the front of the tower. Then Peter’s upper lip twitched and Harry’s nose crinkled and somehow Harry wound up letting loose a snicker that grew to a laugh that became full blown hysterics once Peter started laughing his arse off as well.
By the time they were done laughing, Peter was the one half in Harry’s lap, his head on Harry’s shoulder and his legs tossed across Harry’s thighs.
“Do you wanna go inside and order pizza?” Peter offered with an easy smile, seeming as if he wouldn’t mind if that was exactly what Harry wanted. “Or…”
“Or?” Harry asked, curious about the lilt of excitement in Peter’s voice.
“Or, if you trust me, we can grab fast food and I can take you to my favorite spot,” Peter said with a shrug. “No car required.”
“Okay,” Harry agreed quickly. He did want to spend time with Peter, especially with Harry’s friends coming soon and taking up his time, but he also very desperately didn’t want to get back in that car.
“I- I do like your car,” Harry said hesitantly when Peter detached himself from Harry and jumped to his feet. “It’s pretty.”
“Pft, I know,” Peter scoffed with a teasing wink. “She cost me a fortune, she better be beautiful.” Peter reached down for Harry’s hands with both of his outstretched. “Trust me?”
Harry didn’t hesitate, “Yeah.”
Peter grabbed Harry’s hands and pulled him to his foot, not even letting Harry wobble at all, and then winked before he just… just lifted Harry up and easily flipped him around, adjusting Harry on his back like a backpack in an instant.
“Comfy?” Peter asked, turning his head to grin at Harry’s very hot face.
“Show off,” Harry muttered. He put his chin on Peter’s shoulder. “Are you trying to remind me what walking feels like?”
Peter laughed, never bothered by what Hermione called his ‘morbid sense of humor’. “Nope. I’m going to remind you what flying feels like.”
Against his will, Harry’s lips curled up in a smile and he impulsively turned his head just enough to press that smile in the soft part of Peter’s neck.
More than walking, Harry missed flying.
And flying with Peter - more of some sort of mix of acrobatics and swinging - was brilliant.
“Aren’t you worried you’ll be seen?” Harry shouted over Peter’s laughter when they were making their way above the city, getting to see the lights blur beneath them as they swung through the sky.
“Nope,” Peter yelled back. “I told Gwen and Aunt May. I’m grounded, forever, but I think she’ll get over it soon.”
“Does she know you’re here?” Harry asked curiously.
“Nope.”
Harry was still laughing when Peter took Harry to the top of the same building they’d been on when Harry kissed ‘Spider-Bloke’.
“This is your favorite place?” Harry asked, sliding off Peter’s back and sitting on the rooftop, far enough away from the ledge that it didn’t look too tempting.
“Sure is,” Peter agreed. He sat down next to Harry and then twisted around until he could lay his head in Harry’s lap and stare up at him. “The view’s pretty.”
Harry raised a brow, the view was pretty, but Peter wasn’t even looking out at the skyline. “It’s hard to see from there, isn’t it?”
“Nope, I can see just fine.” Peter reached up and cupped Harry’s cheek with his hand, his face so wistful and cute. “It’s a good view.”
“You’re daft,” Harry smiled fondly down at him. “And a bloody sap, when did that happen?”
Peter dropped his hand and closed his eyes for a moment, his nose all scrunched up as he thought.
“I just…” Peter opened his eyes up and looked at the sky, the sky that didn’t show a single star with as bright as the city always was. “People die, Harry,” he said quietly. “They die and bad shit just happens, you know? So… I don’t know, I sound stupid, huh? I just don’t—”
“Don’t want to leave something unsaid,” Harry said, understanding perfectly. “I- yeah, I get that.” Harry tentatively put a hand on Peter’s head, his fingers curling more confidently in his hair when Peter closed his eyes and made a sound of contentment.
Harry had been driven by that same desperate feeling when Tony and Sirius had been fighting Ultron over the telly while Harry didn’t know if either of them would make it home. And he felt it again when he was in that motel, doubting he’d make it home, imagining almost all the people he wanted to say goodbye to.
“If you die tomorrow, I want you to know that I think you’re a prat,” Harry said seriously. He smirked when Peter opened his eyes and gave a dramatic gasp of indignation. “And… er… thanks for- for everything,” Harry tacked on quickly, stumbling over his words as he tried to speak genuinely.
“You have such a way with words,” Peter sighed as he fluttered his lashes coyly. “You should write Hallmark cards, you know. ‘Roses are red, violets are blue, I suppose I bloody tolerate you’.”
“That is romantic!” Harry cried, defending himself. “I’m not good with words, I’m better with—”
“Your hands?” Peter asked suggestively with a waggle of his eyebrows.
“My hands aren’t as good as my foot,” Harry said with an innocent smile. “You should see me hopping around with Anderson, you’d really think I’m charming then.”
It was easier to laugh about the way Harry wobbled and leaned in physical therapy when that was all that the others did at the VA. The ‘legs’, as they had divided the group in legs and arms during their session that morning, all laughed their arses off together when the arms tried hopping around the room to ‘put themselves in their shoe’.
Peter’s look softened then and he searched Harry’s face for a moment. “You seem… better,” he said slowly. “Do you feel better?”
“I mean I just had a whole panic attack because I couldn’t ride in your car,” Harry said drily, still humiliated by that.
Peter grinned, “Aside from the fact that you just hate my new ride.”
Harry thought about it all and he shrugged. “I dunno. I guess talking about it helps and- and Anderson and the others help too, you know? I mean, er… nobody would say he’s less of a man, you know? And Godwin has a baby even though she doesn’t have arms… so, I dunno.”
“So better-ish,” Peter said. He grinned and his eyes crinkled up at the corners. “Am I allowed to say I love you yet?”
“No,” Harry said immediately, his pulse thrumming quickly at that. Harry looked away from Peter and shook his head. “Don’t say that.”
“Hey, Harry?”
“What?”
“I like you.”
Harry let out a huff of a laugh and looked down at Peter’s serious face and sparkling eyes.
“I like you too… prat.”