1 - Uh, Little Help?

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Lance snapped his eyes open at the sound of furious banging from his window. A million thoughts ran through his head immediately, wondering what in the hell could be making such an intense noise, before rolling over on his bed to face the window across the room. A shadowed figure, that looked at least somewhat human, that he couldn't quite make out banged its fists on his window from the outside, effectively scaring the hell out of him.

He squinted, trying to zone in on whatever it was and see the silhouette clearer. It seemed frantic, and he could make out a muffled noise coming from the outside, under all the racket from the banging. He propped himself up on his arm and rubbed at his eyes, clearing them of the bleariness. The figure was definitely human, but how could a human be five stories up and at his window?

Oh. The realization hit him like a slap to the face.

He kicked his covers off and jolted out of bed. He ran across the room in his bare feet and unlocked the window for her to climb in. Sure, he knew life would be weirder with his girlfriend being a vigilante superhero, but this definitely wasn't what he thought his nights would be like.

His heart rate picked up a little seeing that her mask was nowhere in sight and her face was unnaturally pale. She clambered into the room quickly, her left hand placed firmly on her right shoulder. Lance held his arms out and gripped her waist, helping her steady herself on the ground. He had to admit, he did feel a little happy to see her, but the feeling was short lived.

"Pidge?! What the-- why are you here? It's the middle of the night!" Lance whisper-shouted, backing up from her to give her space. He knew Pidge went out late nights on patrol when she couldn't sleep, but she never visited him this way.

"I-I need your help." she stuttered, anxiety spilling through her tone.

Lance stared at her sallow face for a minute, wondering what happened in his life that could've possibly led up to Spider-Man asking for his help in his bedroom at 3AM. He closed his eyes and sighed. "Alright, alright. With what?"

Pidge looked away from Lance's gaze, eyebrows creased with worry, then slowly pulled her hand away from her arm. There was a large tear in her suit and the sides of the costume were frayed like she'd been picking on the thread. But, what was more worrying, was the crimson-colored stain surrounding the tear. A large gash could be seen through her skin. Lance held back a gasp by covering his mouth and stared at Pidge's bleeding wound.

"Pidge--!"

"I know, I know, I know! I need your help!"

"Wha- how did this happen!?"

"I don't know, it's not like I go around fighting criminals at night or anything!"

Lance palmed his forehead and motioned for Pidge to follow him onto his bed.

"Okay," Lance said, willing himself to calm down, "what do you want me to do? Why didn't you just go to a hospital?"

"I can't just walk in with my costume on! Nobody knows who Spider-Man is and walking into a hospital in full Spider-Man garb is just a little bit of a giveaway. And my mom is home, so if I try and go home I run the risk of waking her up and I will be a dead girl walking if that happens. Can you just patch it up?"

"Yeah, course," he nodded, "you want me to kiss it and make it feel better too?"

Pidge used her free hand to shove Lance off the bed. "Dick, I'm being serious."

Lance chuckled but gave her a genuine smile as he stood back up. "Okay okay, I'll get you some bandages. There's a first aid kit in the bathroom, you want me to get that, or...?"

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