Chapter 6
That night he doesn’t sleep, laying in his bed that’s not his, staring at a wall he’s never seen.
Whenever his eyes close he sees red, so he simply doesn’t close them.
The rest of his day goes by with a blur, he gets dragged to Tony’s lab a little bit after his ‘ story’ and the man absolutely refuses to leave him alone and instead insists they have to work on some weapons that broke from their HYDRA extravaganza.
And even though he knows Tony is trying to distract him from earlier even so he doesn’t protest against it because Peter being Peter obviously still has absolutely no problem agreeing with him because one it’s Tony Stark and two because it’s engineering, and he would never turn that down . What other reasons would he need?
So both of them sit across from each other, divided by the large workbench and dozens of weapons as they talk about their new ideas on how to fix and improve the weapons whilst ‘Back in black ’ plays in the background which hums quietly through his ears and he’s thankful that Tony had put the volume at a low for his sake.
“Hey!” A voice shouts cheerily as the glass doors slide open.
“Harley?” Tony asks, his eyebrow raised
“The one and only.” Harley nods on before slumping down next to them
“So what brings you here?” Stark asks boredly
“Well I wanted to work on my baby for a bit, she got scratched up last time I went on her.”
Peter stared at him with a tilted head and eyes filled with confusion before Harley gestured to a deep red bike that was lying against a workshop counter further in the back. The bike he was referring to though had been torn half to shreds with a missing wheel and the engine sprawled out on a table next to it.
After staring at the bike for a while and then back at Harley he murmurs quietly “You do mechanic work?”
“Yeah, mechanics, engineering, electrics, y’know anything that can be built is my jam” Harley smirks at him “what about you darlin’ , enjoy tinkering?”
The bright red flush on his face from the darling says it all.
“Um- uhh… yeah- n- no I like building, engineering but I lean more towards- t- the scientific stuff..” Peter maneges to stutter out
Harley (THANK THOR) ignores the stuttering and drawls on “Awsome, I bet you’d look adorable wearing a lab coat especial-“
He gets cut off by Tony who throws a piece of discarded piece of fabric to silence Harley
“Stop flirting with my kid” Tony bites out, throwing another piece of cloth at their face
“You’re such an old man Tony” Harley groans “anyways what y’all workin’ on sweetheart?”
Before Tony can yell in protest again he briskly replies to him “Widow bites.”
Harley's mouth gapes “No way, Nat never lets me near those things!” Peter smiles at that
They trust you. A voice rings out in his head
They shouldn’t. He says back
“Well that's probably because the last time one of the avengers let you fix something you blew it up.” Tony says under his breath
Harley gasps dramatically, “you swore you wouldn’t bring that up in front of people! I thought we had a connection .”
Peter chuckles at their strange banter and gets back to work, the sounds of Harley and Tony arguing in the background are drowned out by his thoughts.
He wonders if May’s watching him right now, he wonders If she’d be proud he left HYDRA and the streets or if she’s disappointed in him.
Maybe it’s both, he doesn’t know.
Maybe it’s better if he doesn’t know, he doesn’t think he’d like the truth if it was the latter.
He turns back to the little pieces of metal on his table and slowly slots the whole thing together, adding his own ideas and equations into the formation of the gadget.
He’s been trying to make it better at long distance shooting and more inclusive for future ideas so you can expand the design in the near future.
When he’s finished with the widow bites he slowly straps it over his wrist, tweaking the little bits that stick out so they won’t dig into the black widow's skin when fighting.
It’s slightly too big for his wrist but the measurements for her will be perfect.
He raises the wrist and aims at the centre of a dart board that sits in the far left corner of the room, several metres away. It was an easy shot so he was putting his focus purely on the widow bites to make sure the shooting mechanism went as smoothly as possible and was easy enough to trigger in fights.
He triggers the mechanism and it slaps through the board, right in the centre.
He does this a couple more times to check that it works before putting it back down on the counter so he can start working on Clint’s arrows which have multiple missing and a few with singes in.
He has a few ideas for them which may or may not include some very dangerous chemicals.
“HOLY SHIT!” A voice screeches from the corner, snapping him out of the side and he flinches and covers his ears from the sheer loudness.
‘Language’ the AI mimics in a voice that sounds strangely like Captain America, making Tony chuckle quietly to himself.
He looks up with a pained expression and raised eyebrows.
“How are you not even a little fazed over the fact you shot a bullet in perfect aim across the room without even looking!” Pete raised an eyebrow at Harley as he yelled.
He shrugged sheepishly “it was an easy shot for me I guess”
“ He thinks it’s an easy shot!” Harley whined to Tony who looked mildly impressed
Harley whipped his head back to Peter “you have to teach me one day! My aims are absolutely shit and Tony and Clint make fun of me.”
Peter let out a small bark of laughter at that before regaining his composure “I can- um, maybe I could teach you now?”
“Now?”
“Yeah, but if you wanna work on your bike right now, that’s totally fine, Idon’tevenknowwhyIaskeditwas-“
He gets cut off from his train of thoughts by Harley “Chill cupcake, that would be great.”
He looks at Harley, trying to find the hidden joke but there wasn’t anything apart from his blue eyes staring at him contently.
“Really?” He asks softly, genuinely shocked that he wasn’t turned down.
Harley smiled at him widely “yeah, let’s go to the gym!”
He thinks for a moment before nodding “yeah, okay lets go”
They both turn to Tony who’s staring at them with a singular raised brow, he raises his hand and gives him a little wave.
“Bye Mr.Stark!”
“Yeah, bye old man.” Harley nods
“ Enjoy ” Tony grins at them
when he leaves he pretends not to notice Tony adding ‘not to do what he would do, but If they did to use protection’ as they walked out the door.
Spidermanspidermandoeswhateveraspidercan
Harley Kenner POV:
If anyone asked he was totally not head over heels for Peter.
Okay maybe he was a little bit…
But to be fair, it’s not his fault that the guy manages to be adorably cute with his curly hair, big brown doe eyes and a total badass with scars and wicked aim at the same time.
And when he used the widow bites, oh. My. God!
It was so hot his inner fangirl came out and started mentally squealing with heart eyes to plan their future wedding and what he thought their kids would look like.
And now he was being dragged off to be taught by a (smashable) kid his age instead off a seventy year old grandpa with a bow and arrow (yes Clint I’m talking about you)
He genuinely hopes that this helps them get closer, he knows that heavy shit went down with Peter but maybe, just maybe he could help him. Even if it’s a little bit, the smile on Peter's face felt like a golden medal. Peter was braver than him by a shit-load but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t want to wrap him up in a blanket and feed him junk food.
When they get to the gym Peter grabs two guns but hesitates right as he’s about to hand one to him.
“Hey you don’t mind using guns right?” Peter asked him softly as he toyed with the metal in his hand.
“I live with Nat , she carries guns around like their security blankets.” Harley groans and takes one of the guns from Peter's grip.
“Plus I have a lot of experience with a certain type of gun.” Harley adds with a smirk whilst Peter sputters out something in another language.
They head to the range and he stands across from a target, tying the front of his hair into a little ponytail so it wouldn’t brush against his face in the middle of shooting something.
“Alrighty show me whatcha got cowboy” Peter says standing a safe distance away (nobody was safe when he had a gun but he could still pretend)
He aims the gun up, clicking off the safety and aiming at the target.
A bang goes off when he shoots and he and Peter both wince at the noise.
Oh, wow- um.
“I can see what you and Mr.stark were talking about.” Peter says in between badly concealed laughter.
Harley pouts at him “I told you I had a shity aim!”
“I thought you were exaggerating!” Peter barks out, not even trying to hide the laughter as he stares at the bullet hole which was at least a metre away from the original target and way too low.
“Aren’t you supposed to be from Tennessee? I thought you’d be better at it then that!.”
“Rude!” Harley mumbled grumpily back at him.
Peter steps towards him a bit more after setting his gun down ( safely) on a counter space nearby.
“Okay so first of all you want to change your posture.”
“What’s wrong with my posture?” He asked Peter who simply raised his eyebrows and grimaced
“Light of my life, the sun to my moon” Peter said sarcastically “you have the posture of a grandmother with a back problem.”
“Peter!” He whines “I’m tellin’ Tony you were mean to me!” Harley sticks out his tongue at Peter before straightening his posture.
A flash of hurt brushed on Peter's face before it melted into a sly smile “oh he would never believe you over me .”
“ Oh really?” Harley challenged him with his eyes
“Mhm” Peter nods along, stepping closer to Harley before going back to attempting to teach him “You also need to hold the gun like this” Peter said, gesturing his hands as if he was holding a gun.
He tries to copy Peter, his hands fumbling a tiny bit “Is that better?” He asks.
Peter's face scrunches up “are you sure you don’t need glasses?”
Harley groans loudly before slumping down in a defeated position running his hands along his blonde hair in frustration.
“I give up!”
Peter giggles and his dark curls fall into his face (if he wasn’t in pain he would totally fantasise over the giggles and the most beautiful curly hair he’s ever seen, but now was his brooding period).
“Here come on, get up cowboy. I’ll show you for real this time, alright?” Peter says, holding out his hand. He takes it and stands up.
Peter goes behind him and covers Harley’s arms with their own and intertwines their fingers.
Peter was absolutely tiny compared to him so it was kinda funny to watch as he got on his tiptoes to align himself with Harley, making their curly hair brush against his neck and he definitely would have laughed or pointed it out if his inner monologue wasn’t screaming.
What the fuckkkkkk.
This is the gayest he’s felt since he saw Thor shirtless!
Am I about to be dry humped??? (Not complaining just confused)
He feels like he’s a subject to a white girl at a homecoming dance.
Fuck his brooding era is so over, he was back to fantasizing their future house and what breed of dog they’ll get.
Peter (who still isn’t aware of how gay coded this position is (or does he????)) is aligning the gun with the target, and with both of their hands shoots the trigger.
Ohhhhhhh he was just aiming the gun (that was his bad!)
Peter's grin is matched with his own, he steps away from Harley and unwraps their hands from each other ( nooooooooooooo!!! )
“Alrighty now you can give it a go!” Peter says enthusiastically
He aims the gun and tries to fight the flaming blush on his cheeks away and tries to repeat what Peter and him had just done.
The gun goes off and they both stare at the bullet as it whizzes through the target. It wasn't as good as Peters (understatement the shot was way shittier than Peters but he’s going to ignore that) but it still hit it.
He squeals, Peter smiles back at him “good job”
“All thanks to you darlin’”
Spidermanspidermandoeswhateveraspidercan
Peter Parker POV:
Two hours of laughing and shooting (badly if you were Harley) later as if they’d been friends for years not a couple of days, he told Harley that he was gonna have to hit the showers.
“Awww! I’m gonna miss you sweetheart!” Harley whined as he put the guns away
Peter smiled at that, it had been a while since someone had told him that.
“We can see each other in like twenty minutes.” He offers before slowly walking away from Harley and out of the gym and promptly waving at him as Harley lets out a fake cry.
He walks the hall until finds the bathroom on the gym floor.
When he finds one he grabs the towel from the rack and heads in.
He stops dead in his tracks as he spots himself in the mirror. This was the first time he’d looked in a mirror since HYDRA.
Oh god.
He stepped closer towards the mirror and whatever colour was left on his face had drained instantly, making him look even ghostlier and dead.
He didn’t realize it was thatbad.
His face looked gaunt and starved, his cheekbones were peeking out over stretched skin and his eyebags dug deep and dark into his skin making him look more skeletal than human.
He was going to be sick.
Scars had etched their way onto his face. His healing power could only do so much when he was starved and dehydrated.
He grimaced as he ran his finger along the stark, long, white markings along his right cheek that had travelled over to the bridge of his nose, eyebrow and to a burn mark that was barely visible along his neck, hidden by his curls. The curls on the subject were much longer and unruly as they were matted slightly at the back slightly and greased and the smell of dried blood clings to it, he cringes as his other hands get caught in a knot.
Dirty little Spider runt.
He didn’t want to recognize himself as he looked in the mirror.
The person on the other side was a different person.
He wasn’t like that. He was Peter, your friendly neighbourhood Spider-Man, not some traumatised looking kid with dead eyes.
That wasn’t him!
It couldn’t be him, he was fine! The person on the other side of the reflection wasn’t. There was an obvious difference.
He pulls off his shirt that’s slicked with sweat, hoping that by the time he opens his eyes the person in the mirror has reverted back to his normal happy self.
He looks back at the mirror and lets out a little sob.
Fucking Christ.
It was so much worse without a shirt, his rib cage was sticking out in a gaudy manner and you could count every single bone clearly, his abs were stretched and looked ugly at his caved in stomach which pooled so deeply into him that he wondered if the organs inside him had shrunk as well and his hip bones were too sharp to be considered healthy on anyone’s standards.
But the worst of all of it were the scars which were so much more disturbing than the ones on his face. They ran along everywhere, matted into his skin making it look like one big maze of mutilation. They had ridges and textures that you could only get from burns and frostbite.
He runs his nails into one of the larger scars that failed to heal properly, he remembers just how horrific the infection had been and the way it lasted for weeks on end.
Fucking disgusting. He digs the nails harder into the closed wound, watching as the healed skins break apart again and a leak of blood swells out over him and his hands.
A tear slips down his face and rubs it away quickly with the back of his hand making the blood smear across his face. The taste of iron reaches his tongue which makes his stomach and mind twist and turn before sharp retching in his gut to rake over him. The bile in his throat rose quickly and he lent over to the toilet seat, bending his head to the bowl and dry heaving a couple times before throwing up whatever he didn’t earlier.
He sits on the cold tile, his sweaty forehead meeting the seat whilst hair and tears fall into his eyes “stop, stop, stop, stop!” He tells himself begging for the pain to go away in his stomach and throat as he throws up again. The sickness dribbles down his chin as he shakes all over “please stop.” He tells his body.
His body doesn’t listen to him and another pained noise breaks through his throat and echoes in the room.
The vibrations of the electrics start buzzing louder and louder in his ears and he uses a hand to block them but ends up covering them in blood and vomit. A heave goes through him again and he removes the hands and quickly starts tearing at the wound on his stomach, hoping that the pain will overpower the buzzing in his ear.
The stream of blood smears around his pants and the floor, his mouth still tastes like blood and his vision is blurry, the ringing in his ears won’t stop and the bile in his throat won’t go down.
He can feel HYDRA on him, scalpels, hands and guns. Touching him and prodding at his skin.
He can hear Dr. Abdulov and their voice travel through him as he quivers “отвратительное животное, тебя все ненавидят! ты всех убил, ты все превратил в пыль!” (disgusting animal, everybody hates you! you killed everyone, you turn everything into dust!)
The dark red stains painted around him remind him of Ben and May. Their bodies drenched with blood a-
He cuts himself off and slams his head into the toilet seat trying to silence it.
Too loud, too painful, too much blood.
He slams his head down on the seat again and hears a sickening crack of porcelain break underneath his skull.
He tries thinking of something else like Harley and his thick accent and terrible nicknames but his face is quickly replaced by Gwen and her deafening screams as she plunges, so far yet so close.
He slams his head against the toilet seat again.
His mind is silent and obeying for once.
Spidermanspidermandoeswhateveraspidercan
Harley Kenner POV:
Do people usually take longer than twenty two minutes to have a shower?
He wanted to ask Pete when he got out of the shower if he was up for playing Mario kart with him, Clint and Sam, now that Sam is back and they could be formally (probably not formally, who am I kidding?) introduced.
But Peter is still not out the shower yet.
But it would be fine, Peter would be fine.
Right?
Yeah…
He was probably taking longer cause he hasn’t been able to catch a minute of alone time, which was fair.
He wanders around the floor (totally not because he was waiting for Peter to get out) aimlessly it’s his phone, texting the gang (the avengers) that he’d be up in a minute with (hopefully) Peter.
He stares at his watch, it had been officially twenty eight minutes.
He looks at the numbers as they slowly progress to the twenty nine minute mark.
Do people take half an hour showers?
There’s no harm in checking.
He makes up his mind and heads over to the bathroom Peter is using.
‘Odd’ he thinks, he can’t hear any water running. In Fact he can’t hear anything in the bathroom.
Did he already leave ?
Surely he would’ve seen him.
“Friday?” He asks the ceiling “Did Peter leave the bathroom?”
A loud female voice responds overhead “I did not see Peter Parker leave the stall if that is what you are asking.”
His breathing stops for a moment.
He knocks loudly onto the bathroom stall door.
When nobody answers he bangs louder.
“Peter! Can you hear me?” He shouts in a panicked tone through the door receiving nothing but silence in return.
Harley checks the doorknob only to find that it’s locked.
A seep of panic sets into him as he tries the door again and it won’t budge.
“Peter If you can hear me respond or else I’m gonna break the fuck out of this door.”
There’s no answer on the other side so he takes a few steps back and slams through.
Fuck.
Peter was lent up unconsciously against a broken and bloodied toilet, blood was everywhere, it coated Peter's small frame, the floor, toilet and walls were covered in smears of it.
FUCK!” he yelled as he saw the damage to Parker’s body, a large cut on his head and a wound wrapping around his stomachs had been torn open.
His heart cracked and he rushed over to Peter yanking off his jacket and putting it around his head, which had a large gash in the centre as it bleeded. He grabbed the discarded towel and wrapped it around Peter's torso.
“Friday, call Tony Stark and the Medics to the gym bathroom, code: KID (Kid In Danger) protocol ” he said urgently cradling Peter in his arms, checking his pulse.
“Still alive” he breathed a sigh of relief.
He wiped the vomit and blood off of Peter's face and hugged him closer.
The footsteps pounded down the hall.
He could hear them simultaneously stop at the bathroom door, quickly assessing the situation with a look of horror before masking it with a more professional face and immediately laying Peter down against the floor, doing his vitals and checking the wound.
He heard as Tony skidded to a sharp stop outside the broken bathroom door.
“ Holy fuck.” Tony’s voice finally reaches them before the man immediately goes to Peter and Harley's side.
Spidermanspidermandoeswhateveraspidercan
They wait in the medbay with Peter, who’s lying quietly, knocked out from the heavy dosed drugs they pumped him full of before going in with the stitches.
Tony was staring at Peter with watery eyes muttering out apologies and promises to him. Instead of doing what Tony is doing, he lies in the corner on a chair, keeping steady eyes on Peter as the boy's chest moves up and down.
The rest of the Avengers come down in a flurry as soon as Friday alerts them that Peter is in the Avenger medic ward.
They all stand cautiously in the room. After debriefing Sam on the whole Peter, Spider-Man, HYDRA topic, because he was on a smaller mission, they finally asked Harley what had happened.
“Well we were in the gym and then afterwards he told me he was gonna have a shower, it had been a while and I was getting nervous so I checked and I found him like that.” He tells them in a nervous tone.
Tony takes a deep breath “I should’ve just made him rest”
“Don’t blame yourself '' Steve tells Tony, rubbing a reassuring hand along his back, surprisingly Tony doesn’t brush it off.
“He better wake up soon.” Clint mumbles, not angrily just worryingly.
A chorus of ‘ yeah’ goes around the room.