16. "It's ok, I'm ok." (Part 3)

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  Harley had his arm wrapped around Peter's shoulders as they slowly walked out of the building. It wasn't some sort of abandoned warehouse like they had expected, it was an office building. On the outside, it looked like a normal company tower, with big windows for each separate office and people rushing in and out, stacks of paper in hand.

Harley had to basically drag Peter up countless flights of stairs until they made it to a big white door with the shining words "EXIT" over it. Harley pushed it open and was slightly taken aback by the strong rays of the sunlight. 

The whole time, Peter was trying to push Harley's arm off and walk on his own, slurring "It's ok, I'm ok" over and over. Harley refused, of course, and helped him outside.

They ended up in an alleyway behind the tower, the wet cement covered in trash bags, old newspapers, and trash in general.

Peter slipped out of Harley's grasp and collapsed onto the floor, panting heavily.

"Hey, hey, hey, Pete, you ok?" Harley asked, kneeling down next to him. 

Of course he's not ok.

Peter grasped at his chest and looked up at Harley in the most heart-wrenching look. His eyes were glossed over in unshed tears and they held a look of pure panic and fear as he kept on coughing and gasping.

"Ok, ok, God, shit-uh, I'm gonna go ask someone for a phone, ok? Come here," Harley rambled, helping Peter to his weak feet and walking out of the alley.

Almost immediately, a woman in her mid-thirties ran up to them, her face washed over in concern. She said she was a nurse and told Harley to explain what happened.

"He's lost a lot of blood, I know that for sure," Harley replied quickly, not wanting to get into too much detail and waste time. "Can I use your phone?"

"Yeah! Yeah, of course!" She scrambled for her backpack and handed Harley her phone.

As he dialed Tony's phone, his fingers shaking uncontrollably, the woman helped him get a better hold on Peter and found a bench to sit him on.

Tony: Hello?

Harley: Tony! Shit, Tony, you gotta come, Peter's - he's-

Tony: Keener?

Harley: Yes, Tony, it's me! Now, track the call or do something because Peter's not okay and I don't know where we are and -

Tony: Hey, kid. Relax, ok? Friday's tracking the call, I'll be there in a minute. 

Harley: Ok...

By the time he had ended the call, his entire body started shaking and his breath hitched. His eyes never left Peter's small shaking frame, tears now rolling down his face. Harley gave the phone back with a quick "thank you" and sat on the bench next to Peter. He wrapped his arms around him and rocked him softly.

Peter's sniffles and small gasps slowly came to a stop as he rested his head on Harley's chest and listened to his quick heartbeat. He gently closed his eyes, wanting to sleep but suddenly losing all consciousness. 

Tony arrived quickly after. He flew down onto the street and ran out of his suit. He thanked the woman and handed her a few hundred bucks for helping the boys. He walked over to them and embraced Harley in a tight hug.

"I'm glad you're ok, kiddo."

They both turned their attention on Peter, who still laid on Harley's chest. Tony put a hand on his shoulder but Peter stayed still. He softly shook it. No response. Tony quickly turned him around, hoping for the kid to wake up, but he remained unresponsive, his face dangerously pale and his chest slowly rising and falling with each tired breath.

"Shit," Tony mumbled as he picked Peter up. Harley sat in shock, tears pricking at his eyes and a lump forming in his throat. "Come on, Keener, I brought your suit."

Tony tossed Harley's bracelet over to him and stepped into his own suit. Harley slowly put it on, the suit forming around his body.

*

Their arrival was pure chaos. Tony ran into the medical floor, Harley close behind, and an unconscious Peter in his arms.

Dr. Strange, Bruce, and Cho were all running around, carrying either bags of blood or sterilized tools in and out of Peter's room.

Harley sat out there for about two hours, glancing up at the clock every few minutes before returning his attention to the closed door in front of him. He would stand up whenever one of the doctors would walk out, only to be told he still wasn't stable.

Turns out, he lost nearly 30% of his blood, broke a rib, had a mild concussion, and fractured his wrist, probably because of when he had punched the guard.

Finally, Dr. Cho walked out, taking off her gloves and throwing them in a trash can next to Harley. She smiled softly at him when he stood up and looked at her in fear.

"He'll be ok, you can go see him now."

"Thank you."

He ran in and saw Peter under the covers, his eyes tired and barely open, but a small smile on his face. His left wrist was wrapped in a thin cast, the cuts on his face were already sealed shut and only a small bruise was seen on his cheekbone.

"Hey, Harls," he slurred, smile slightly wider. Harley breathed out and returned the goofy smile.

"Hey, Pete. You scared me, you little shit," he said as he walked over to Peter's bed, winning a small giggle from the boy.

"Sorry, I didn't know I was gonna pass out," he replied, raising his hands in defense.

"Well, maybe a little heads up next time."

"Oh sure, how about 'aight Imma' head out, how does that sound?"

Harley laughed, happy that Peter's old self was slowly returning.

"That sounds great."

*

Peter flopped on his bed after a few days of staying in the med bay. He sighed and buried his face into the pillow. Harley jumped and landed on top of him.

"Ow! Do you wanna break my rib again, fatass?" Peter hissed, pushing Harley, who was laughing like crazy, off of him. May knocked and didn't wait for an answer as she opened the door and peeked her head inside.

"I made brownies!"

Peter and Harley exchanged a nervous look. Whenever she would make brownies, they would either burn or they would be well cooked but they would be healthy. May rolled her eyes.

"They're real brownies."

With that, they both scrambled to their feet and raced to the kitchen. After stuffing their faces with brownies and downing a cup of milk, they dragged their feet back to Peter's room.

Harley collapsed onto his bed with a small groan. He was about to say something when Peter stopped dead in his tracks, staring at his desk.

"What?" Harley asked, trying to follow his gaze. Peter buried his face in his hands and slowly breathed out, trying not to lose his cool. Harley stood up and stood next to him.

"I forgot to finish my essay for English," Peter replied, looking at the half-written paper longingly before hiding his face once more. "Fuck me," he sighed, slightly hitting his head with his fists.

Harley took the opportunity and grabbed Peter by the waist. "Gladly."

Peter looked up at him and sighed.

"I got a paper to finish, idiot." He pecked Harley's lips before sitting down on his chair.

*

A/N: This is the final paaart I didn't think this would be so well received lmao

Anywayyyyyy, like always, I'm gonna take a nap and I don't wanna fix the mistakes so sorry if there are any... Luv y'all

-Lara

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