Southern Drawls and New York Fist Fights

Domestic Breakfast

"Motherfucker-"
"Language."

-Harley-

I woke up in my bed, the IV still in my arm. Sun was once again streaming through the un-tinted windows and déjà vu hit as I brought my arm over my eyes to block out the bright rays. I layed like that for a few minutes before finally sitting up and blinking rapidly to try and adjust to the light.

I slowly got up, pulling the IV stand with me as I went and grabbed a hoodie from my suitcase that was sitting in the corner. I pulled it on, pushing the sleeve up so I didn't accidentally rip out the IV. There was a knock on my door and I looked up, my heart racing slightly.

"Yeah?" I called, and Peter slipped into my room. "Hey Pete."

"Hi Harls." The brunnette smiled, but didn't come closer.

"What no hug? I haven't seen you in weeks!"

Peter practically tackled me when he hugged me, and I winced at the slight spark of pain it caused even with the pain medication. I wrapped my arms around the boy, who had buried his face in my shoulder. I noticed a moment later his shoulders were shaking slightly.

"Sorry." He muttered, pulling away. My brow furrowed as he wiped the tears from his face, not meeting my eyes.

"What are you saying sorry for?" I asked, pulling him back to me and rubbing his back like I had done for Abbie many times when she was still at home. Peter took a moment to answer as if he was collecting his thoughts.

"I..." He paused before sighing. "I could have helped you- I could have at least been there for you more!"

"Pete, you didn't know. It's not your fault." I whispered, shaking my head. Of course he would think that, Peter was a chronic over thinker. He blamed everything that happened to anyone on himself. "This was not your fault, so don't go thinkin' that." Peter rested his forehead on my shoulder and took a deep breath.

"Okay."

"No more sorry's."

"I'm sorry."

"Peter!"

We both laughed, and Peter looked up at me with a mischievous grin.

"I apologize for saying sorry." He said. I rolled my eyes and pulled away from the hug.

"You are a menace. I'm telling Shuri and Loki you are being like this again." I threatened, wincing as I pulled out the IV and ran for the door. Peter yelped, heading after me quickly.

"Harley!" He exclaimed as I slid into the kitchen. I hid behind the counters, ignoring the confused looks from Clint and Nat.

"Hey kid." Clint said, I heard Peter looking around.

"Where is he?"

"Who?" Nat asked, playing along with me without me even asking her to.

"Harley!" Peter replied, his footsteps coming closer.

"Behind the cupboards."

"Clint!" I huffed as I stood, glaring at the archer who just grinned back. "How could you give me away?"

"Did Bruce take out your IV?" Natasha questioned before Clint or Peter could say something. I opened my mouth, then shut it. "Harley."

"Well I was trying to hide." I muttered, sending Clint a look that displayed how displeased I was. I would definitely be requesting our next prank to be on him. Clint held his hands up, but the grin didn't drop.

"You ripped out your IV!" Peter exclaimed, and Nat raised her eyebrows.

"FRIDAY, tell Bruce to come up here with a new IV." I spluttered, but didn't object. I knew that the pain would be back again as soon as the last dose of pain medication wore off and I didn't want to deal with that, even if I had taken out the IV.

Peter pulled me to the counter and made me sit, dragging Clint into the kitchen to help with breakfast. I rolled my eyes at the display of the two trying to make eggs and waffles. Natasha sat down beside me, resting her arms on the counter.

"Don't rip this IV out." She said.

"He what?" Bruce's voice startled me and I whipped my head around to see him standing there with a new IV. "Harley, you shouldn't be taking out IV's! You can seriously hurt yourself doing that."

"Sorry." I sighed, holding my arm out so Bruce could attach the new one.

As Bruce finished there was a clang and swearing from the kitchen, and I turned to see Peter laughing and Clint hopping around on one foot. Natasha covered a smile with her hand beside me.

"Motherfucker-"

"Language." Peter said between laughter.

"Oh fuck you, Pete." Clint huffed.

"What did he do?" I asked, grinning.

"Dropped the frying pan on his foot." Natasha said as Clint pulled himself to sit on the counter, holding his foot. Peter, still giggling, continued to work on the waffles.

Less than half an hour later and the four of us were eating waffles and eggs, sitting at the counter. I whispered plans to Peter that we could use in our next prank and insisted we had to do it on Clint. He was a little skeptical considering we had only successfully pranked him once, but agreed we could if Shuri and Loki would agree. I paused mid-bite as a thought came to mind.

"Where's Tony?" I asked, looking at Nat and Clint. Both shrugged. "FRIDAY?"

"Boss and Ms. Potts are meeting Principal Morita to enroll you in Midtown, Harley."

Peter looked up, then grinned at me. "When will you be starting? Oh my god we can totally fuck with Flash cause he doesn't know who you are! This is going to be awesome. Please pick classes I have so we can do work together."

"Calm down Pete." I laughed. "I don't know when I'm starting, but soon hopefully. Maybe Monday? Yes, we will definitely be using this to mess with Flash, and I'll pick my classes depending on that and what they have to offer."

Peter just nodded enthusiastically, and then proceeded to drag me to the lab to help him with a project.

When Steve came to get us for dinner, we were both covered in grease and machine oil, Peter's hair looked like he had been electrocuted and a busted piece of machinery we had been testing on was broken and scattered across the floor. The blond stared at us for a few moments, gaping, before finally finding his voice.

"You two should shower before dinner." I grinned, glancing down at myself then at Peter.

"Sure, we'll be up as soon as we are done." I said, and Steve nodded and left. "Want to prank them?"

"What? How? We don't have anything prepared!"

"Let's just do like, a generic scare prank. We could drop out of the vents."

"Clint does that too much, everyone is used to it."

"Damn him. That's all I had." Peter shook his head, leading the way to our rooms.

"We'll have to wait and come up with a plan for later." He told me.

"I suppose." I huffed as we came to my door, I slipped in and headed for the shower.