A Dinner With Framily (SpideyPool)

A Dinner With Framily- Chapter Three

Peter hit the brick wall, sending him sailing through the building and landing inside the the old warehouse. He groaned, getting to his feet. There was a call about an alarm trigger, and Peter wouldn't have come if he wasn't in the area.

But now, he really wished that he would have let the cops handle this.

Abner Jenkins, or presumabley the Beetle, was currently aiming missles at his skull.

Peter rolled out of the way, using his webshooters to launch himself at the mechanical bug. Abner turned, knocking Peter out of the way easily with a swipe of his arm. Peter went through the hole he created, falling onto the concrete and sliding across the alley.

Abner stepped out of the hole, pressing a few buttons on his forearm and reaching down towards his thigh, pulling out a laser gun. "I think it's time to squash you, bug."

Peter managed to get onto his elbow, looking up at the Beetle through his mask. "It's Arachnid!" Peter swung his leg around, knocking Abner off balance. He arched back onto his hands, using all of his stregnth to land a two-footed kick into his mechanic chest, sending Abner flying into the brick wall, creating another hole through the building.

Peter wobbled, dropping onto the ground on one knee, hands balled into fists and pressed against his sides. Now that Abner was temporairly defeated, Peter could feel a couple of ribs that were fractured under his suit.

He wrapped his arms around himself, placing his forehead on his knee and exhaling a quick hiss of pain. He had to get home, he couldn't just sit in an Alley all night.

He had worse injuries, but he still managed to hobble back home.

Peter lifted his head, getting to his feet with one hand still wrapped around his side. Peter winced, stumbling one step before regaining his footing.

Wade was going to kill him.

Peter managed to climb up the warehouse, shooting a web towards a higher building and pushing off of the rooftop.

It took Peter an hour to get home to their apartment. He landed on the balcony, perched on the railing like a bird. He reached for the screen door, his weight getting the better of him and sending Peter toppling down onto the concrete support.

Peter landed on his injured ribs, moaning and rolling onto his side, curling into a ball.

The screen door slid open, and suddenly Peter was being lifted inside.

"Jesus, Peter," Wade croaked, bags under his eyes as he carried Peter bridal style towards the couch.

He rearranged some pillows, setting Peter onto them and slowly taking off his mask. "Who'd you piss off this time?"

Peter chuckled, then winced when even more pain sprouted from his side.

Wade made a face, scrunching his eyebrows together and scanning over Peter's suited body. "It's your ribs, isn't it?"

Peter forced a toothy grin. "Doctor Wilson," he wheezed.

Wade huffed, one corner of his lips turning upwards. "You wish I was a doctor." He reached for the top part of Peter's suit, gently tugging it down enough so it rested just above Peter's hips. He examined Peter's side, his eyes momentairly narrowing at the bluish-purplish bruise that covered most of his upper body.

He pulled out a first aid kit from under the couch, taking off the lid and digging through the items until he pulled out a syringe, a small container, and gause.

Peter grimanced at the needle, shuffling on the couch but stopping short when he hissed in pain. Wade ran a hand through Peter's hair, before removing it to put the needle of the syringe into the small container. "Don't be a baby," he scolded.

Peter glared at him, his lips a thin line. Wade took the needle out, setting the container back into the First Aid Kit and flicking the syringe. "This wouldn't have happened if you didn't  go off without me. I can survive my head being cut off, and yet you can't even survive a paper cut."

Peter didn't look at Wade, his eyes determined to stay locked on the muted television behind him. Wade sighed, setting the syringe down onto the coffee table he was sitting on. "I can call Jameson for you, say you went out of town for a couple of days."

Peter finally met Wade's eyes, silent protest almost as loud as words.

Wade tilted his head, folding his hands together over his knees. "We both know that you'll be out for a while healing."

Peter rolled his eyes. "Fine," he wheezed again.

Wade picked up the syringe once more, injecting the anathestetic in the spot between the two injured ribs. Slowly, Peter's eyes closed, and his shallow breathing evened out.

Wade sighed, wrapping his entire torso with all of the gause and putting the syringe and container back into the First Aid Kit, sliding it back under the couch.

He ran his hands over his face, watching Peter's chest barely rise and fall. "Why is it that every time this happens, I feel like I'm euthanizing you?"

He pushed himself up from the coffee table, picking Peter up bridal-style and carrying him back into their room.

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Aww, poor Peter :( && how did you like Peter beating up the Beetle (or is it the other way around?)