3 - Shooty Shooty Bang Bang

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"You're limping."

"I'm fine."

"You're limping."

Pidge turned to face her boyfriend on the sidewalk and clenched her fists. "I said I'm fine. My leg will heal, I'll be okay. You don't need to worry."

"I do need to worry because when I get home and turn the TV on, the last thing I want to see is you running into a burning building! You scared the shit out of me!"

"What did you want me to do, Lance? Just let those kids die? Some fucking hero I'd be. I can handle a burn, I can't handle knowing I let two kids die because I was scared."

Lance rubbed at his temples. The tension seemed to leave his body all at once, shoulders slumping and back curving. "God, again with the guilt complex. Look, you don't have to blame yourself for not saving everybody all the time every single day."

"You don't get it!" she shouted. Because he didn't. He didn't know what it was like to watch someone die because of him. He's never had someone's death on his hands.

He gazed down at her leg before looking back into her eyes. "Just stop barreling into every problem you find. You really freaked me out when you came to my house, and now..."

"I'm fine, Lance. Seriously."

He looked ready to protest, but thankfully dropped it. They walked to school in silence.

+++

Lance eyed Pidge wearily as she hobbled to her locker. He hated the fact she tried to pretend everything was fine. He remembered how utterly terrified he felt watching her jump into the fire on TV. He had kept his eyes glued on the screen until he saw her scrambling out one of the windows and swinging away.

He was jostled out of his thoughts by Hunk waving his hand in his face.

"Helloooooo? Anyone in there?" Hunk teased.

"Uh- yeah- sorry."

Hunk looked to where Lance's eyes were fixated.

"Oh, you saw her on the news yesterday?" he whispered. "Awesome, right?"

No. "Yeah."

Hunk must have seen the worry in Lance's eyes. "What's wrong?"

"I just... I'm anxious about her. What if she gets hurt?"

He smiled. "D'aww, Lance, you don't have to worry. She's..." he looked around to make sure no one was listening before whispering, "Spider-Man. She's gonna be just fine."

Lance looked back at Pidge, who was walking with an uneven gait away from her locker. "I know."

+++

Pidge really needed to get a grip. In the past week alone she'd been stabbed, beaten up, and burned. She wasn't a stranger to getting hurt on patrol, but each day it seemed to be getting worse and worse.

She sat on the edge of a building, letting her injured leg hang off the side. She listened in for an alarm or a call for help, secretly hoping she wouldn't hear one. But, of course, an alarm had to ring out a few blocks away. She shook the pain off and webbed herself over to the source of the noise.

It was a corner store that didn't look too out of the ordinary. It wasn't on fire, so it had to be a step up.

She looked through the window and instantly spotted the problem. A man held a gun to the cashier's head, watching as he fumbled to open the cash register. Great, she thought, classic store robbery.

She didn't hesitate to run into the small store and hold up her web shooters to the man. "Nice try, dude, but I'm gonna have to cut in."

He spun around and snarled at her. He started to grab the cashier and pull him closer, but she webbed his hand to the counter before he could do anything. She gave an apologetic look to the man before focusing back on the robber.

Sirens roared from behind her and the robber's eyes turned frantic. He shouted obscenities at her and held his gun up at her as a threat. In hindsight, it probably wasn't the best idea to taunt him when he had a gun pointed at her, but she was always one to stir the pot.

The gun went off.

Her hands flew to her abdomen and she could feel blood start to pour out. Her stomach lurched as the sticky liquid substance slipped through her fingers.

She stumbled back and resisted the urge to scream. As the police came closer Pidge ran, holding one hand to her wound and using her free hand to web away. She breathed heavily in shallow, ragged breaths. She still felt tears prick behind her eyes in pain and fear. She needed to get home.

+++

"You okay, hon?" Colleen called knocking on the bathroom door. She fumbled to hide her bandages and pulled her shirt down over her wound.

"U-uh, yeah Mom, I-I'm good." she sputtered.

"You've been in there for almost an hour."

"I have a bloody nose."

"Oh, well let me-"

"No!" she shouted. "No, it's okay, don't come in here."

There was a beat of silence before Pidge heard a sigh. "Alright... tell me if you need me."

"Will do."

She heard footsteps leaving the door and she pressed her hands roughly back into her wounded area. She'd been able to cut the bullet out, though not easily. The pain was damn near unbearable. But the worst of it was over.

She took the bandages and wrapped them around her stomach with messy hands stained with crimson. Gripping onto the sink, she tried to stand up but her legs gave out on her and she fell on her back to the floor.

"Katie? I heard a crash, are you alright?" came her mom's voice once more.

"Y-yeah," she said, trying to keep her voice even, "I'm good. I just tripped."

She stayed on the ground and stared at the ceiling trying to push back a sob growing in her throat. She couldn't worry her mom like that. She already lost so much; if she walked into the bathroom to find her daughter bleeding from a bullet wound, Pidge thought she might lose it. Hell, Pidge was about to lose it herself.

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