Chapter Text
He adjusted the sniper with a death like grip, the rough handle feeling natural in his hands from the hundreds of times he'd have to shoot someone down.
That puny redheads-barrier? forcefield? had trapped everyone on and around the island, making everything feel like it was on pause, causing a couple crashes that thankfully didn't hurt anyone.
He hoped the kid was alright.
Or not. He didn't care.
He pushed the thought away, something in his scope getting his attention. He squinted, trying to look for the head of red inside the building.
As he hover along the windows of the building, he finally found them.
It was weird-they were standing infront of each other, but neither was moving. Looking closer, it looked like they were in some kind of trance. Weird voodoo shit.
He readjusted his grip, until his sniper was locked in on Jean. He thought about the kids words for a second, but he knew he had to do this. This *is* what he did for a living.
Without another thought his sniper cocked, his finger feeling the trigger. His scope shined as he squeezed his ring finger around the gun.
A shot rung through the sky.
Then he saw red.
What the hell.
Before he could even see it, the kid was hugging Jean protectively, and right in the way of the bullet.
It wasn't suppose to be him.
Damn self sacrificial son of a -
Before he could get angry, a sense of dread washed over him. He killed the kid. The kid that he spent the last four years with. Mostly bickering.
He'd never admit it, even to himself, he started seeing him as a friend.
And he just killed him.
What the fuck is it with him and hurting the people he loves?
He glanced up, the warpy crazy power barrier was gone, and the sound of the city came back. He couldn't hear it. Tthe sound of the bullet still stuck in his head.
Before he could stop, he sprang up and rushed down and out the building, slamming his truck door shut and speeding towards the island.
When he arrived at the facility, he jumped out and ran towards the sobs from the room above. He ran because he had to get the kid to a hospital because he wasn't dead. He wasn't going to die in a damn facility because of Frank.
He stopped in his tracks, horrified at the sight.
"No no no, Peter hey. No, look-look at me okay?"
The redhead was wailing, scared, gripping peters hands on his chest. Blood was pooling under him, it blended in with his suit.
"What're you doing, please Peter. I'm sorry."
He tensed at her words, before taking astep forward. He had to get the kid out.
Jean was too distraught to notice, until he was right infront of her, kneeling down. She snapped up, looking at him with confusion, then anger.
A smack.
"Why would you do this? What the fuck why? You fucking-why?"
She cried her words out, getting up and at him, hitting his chest in anger. She kept insulting him and he let her.
Until he heard a cough. They both zipped their head towards the source. The kid.
He awkwardly patted Jeans shoulders, unsure of how else to comfort her in a rush, the kids needs help. Now.
"I know-I know I messed up, fuck," He grumbled, "and I know you want to beat the shit out of me but we have to get the kid help, and you have to go too."
He was trying to kill the girl a second ago and now he's trying to help her escape. Damn kid and his need to help everyone.
She nodded quickly, wiping away her tears,
"I can help, I can help him."
He had no clue how, but he nodded instead of questioning her and fell down next to Peter.
He had his eyes closed in pain, or was probably passed out, making something in Frank's chest crack.
God he really was just a kid.
He hurt a kid.
Before he could sulk any more, he remembered he was actively bleeding out.
He picked up Peter gently, earning a whine of pain from the kid. He looked back at Jean, signaling her to follow, rushing out.
As he screeched to a stop infront of the emergency room and went to grab he kid, Jean quickly put his mask on, holding his face in worry.
"He's gonna be a'ight."
He better.
She stared at him, a look he couldn't decipher, before nodding.
He stormed into the hosptial, a limp Spider-man in his arms. He yelled at the doctors for help, quickly rolling him away as they began to cut through his suit and tend to the wound.
His chest was heavy.
He sat outside the surgery room staring at the ground, contemplating.
The kid and his way of saving others lives was admirable. But now that he might die, that he was fighting for his life in surgery, because of him, he hated all of it.
He shot a kid. A kid he grew close to in a way. This was why he didn't want to care about anyone anymore.
He sighed, running a hand through his hair frustatingly.
"Frank?"
He was pulled out of his sleep, remembering where he was, realizing what that voice ment.
A gentle expression on his face, realizing the kid really was okay. He weakly took off his oxygen mask, looking around disoriented,
"Hey nono no no,"
"My mask,"
"I gotcha covered, its fine."
"Where jean she-shes okay?"
Idiot was always worrying about someone else. He chuckled, still in awe that Peter was here, awake, alive.
"Shes fine, she okay, she just left. She used her voodoo magic shit to keep you alive."
He looked away from the kid, before breathing in.
"I'm sorry."
He caught his breathe, shaking his head.
"I'm sorry for what I did-"
"Frank, no. No Frank-"
"I know its a lot of things but it sure as shit ain't right." He took a glance up to meet the kids eyes.
Peter started laughing, before Frank started chuckling alongside him.
"Y'know, you're exactly how I thought you'd look,"
He smiled, pointing at him.
"a good kid."