Chapter Text
Struggling to stay awake was not easy to do. His eyes burned and every so often the world around him went dark. The sun was setting, but this dark was pitch black. The dark lasted for what felt like a few seconds before Harley was back in his view. Each time he lost sight of him, he came back looking more ragged and exhausted.
When Peter woke this time, it must have been a long moment of dark, because Harley was in a hole up to his shoulders and the last time Peter had seen anything, he was barely up to his shins.
Waking up this time, felt different.
Maybe because the world had been sideways before and now it was right side up. Maybe because the ground used to be hard under his body, especially his cheek as he laid and now he was resting on something comfortable.
Blinking his eyes a few times, he looked down to his waist and saw a pair of arms encircling him, keeping him in place. He had a dirty bandage wrapped around him underneath the hands, some blood seeping through. They must have closed the wound because it burned but he was alive. He hadn't bled to death yet. He was still awake and all he wanted was to go back to the dark.
He recognized the blood stains on the hands holding him, and he knew who it was. He didn't want to be close to this man. He started squirming, pulling against the arms holding him close to a chest. He was between two legs, so maybe if he could move enough, he could send a hit to Garret's crotch.
Instead, Garret held him tighter and laughed. "Looks like someone's awake finally."
Harley stopped digging immediately and turned to face Peter. In his eyes was a raging war between worry and relief. "Pete, you're up."
"He is," Garret said before Peter could say a word. He squeezed Peter's cheeks between one of his hands, the metallic smell of his own blood making him fight a gag. "And I think he's actually awake this time. He didn't cry and call me Papa this time."
Peter felt his face burn, and he hoped that Garret couldn't feel the blush. He didn't remember calling this man Pops because he wasn't. He was nothing like his Pops.
"Le' me go," Peter grumbled, trying to get out of his hold.
"No," Garret said immediately, as if he was telling a toddler he couldn't have ice cream for dinner. "You need to stay. And now that you're awake, I want you to watch the show."
"What?" Peter asked, his eyes on Harley as he stared back. His face was streaked with dirt and sweat lines making trails through it. Peter told him the trails under his eyes were from sweat too because imagining Harley crying hurt more than anything else.
"Look at the hard work he's doing. Digging your grave." The hand was so tight on Peter's cheeks so he couldn't look away.
"What--?"
"You two are gonna cuddle up nice and close while we cover you with dirt. You wanna know what it feels like to have the breath slowly taken from your lungs and swallow rocks and dirt?"
"Not really--."
The other hand dug into the wound on his stomach, causing Peter to cry out in pain. "Shut up while I'm speaking!"
Harley rushed forward, stumbling in the hole. "Stop fucking hurting him or I'll take this shovel and beat your skull in with it," Harley warned with the shovel above his head.
The hand from his stomach slithered up to wrap around his neck. "I'll snap his neck before you even get out of that hole."
Peter felt like a doll sitting between Garret's legs as he manhandled his face and head. He couldn't even say a word. He could only watch as one of the other picks working with Garret walked behind Harley with the shovel raided and sent it down to his back. He tried to make noises to warn Harley, but it wasn't enough. Harley fell forward, crashing into the side of the hole, causing the air to leave his lungs audibly.
To his credit, Harley pushed himself up quickly and turned to face the man behind him, laughing with the shovel in his hands. "The more you fucking hit me, the longer this takes, dumbass."
"Get back to work. You have 30 minutes to finish the hole. No matter how small that hole is, you're both going to fit in it, and unless you want us to get creative I suggest making it big enough."
"Fuck you," Harley spat but went back to work with one last glance at Peter.
Garret kept his hands on Peter: his hand squeezing his cheeks and his other around his throat. He didn't struggle anymore because the guy that had just smacked Harley in the back with a shovel had a gun in his waistband.
Peter focused on Harley and the fact that he was still alive. His body was fighting to go back to the dark and as tempting as it was, Peter couldn't leave Harley alone.
Ignoring the words Garret was speaking, hot in his ear, wasn't too hard for him. Harley couldn't say the same thing because sometimes a threat against Peter went a little too far and he stopped digging to growl up at him.
Those reactions made Garret laugh every time.
Eventually, Garret let him go and stood up, letting Peter fall to the side. He was so reliant on Garret to keep him up when he didn't have the strength to do it himself. "I've got to go take a leak. Can you watch these two for 5 minutes or do I have to drag the little one with me?"
Peter grunted as he struggled to push himself up, unable to because of how he was chained still. The guy with the shovel laughed. "Little one can't even sit up, and this one ain't going anywhere without him. I'll be fine."
"Alright." Garret kneeled by Peter and patted his cheek not pressed into the dirt. "Be a good boy until I come back and Papa will hold you again."
His words were mocking and Peter flushed at how mortified they made him feel. He didn't know what he did when he was delirious, but he hated that even in that state, he confused Garret with Pops. They were not the same.
Once he was gone, Harley spoke up again. "I've got to move Peter into the hole."
"Huh?" Their babysitter asked.
"I want to make sure it's long enough. I need to lay him down and mark the dirt so I can focus on making it wider." Harley was already climbing out of the dirt.
The babysitter eyed him before walking over to Peter. Once Harley was up, he grabbed Peter by his hair and dragged him to the hole. Peter gasped in pain as the rocks and dirt rubbed his skin raw where his clothes came up and the pain in his scalp. He was definitely going to have a bald spot after all of this.
"I can get him in!" Harley said, taking a step closer to them, but the babysitter already had Peter in the hole and he threw him in it. Peter landed on the ground with his face in the dirt and his wrist pinned painfully between his chest and the ground.
"Too late. Get to work before I start filling it in now that he's laying down."
Harley came back to their hole and managed to stand in it, one foot on either side of his thigh. He couldn't see him, but he trusted him. Whatever he was up to.
"Don't move," Harley told him and Peter obeyed. Because Harley had a plan and Peter wasn't going to ruin it. Sure enough, he brought down the shovel, breaking the chains between his ankles. Peter held his breath, waiting for their babysitter to say something about the sound, but he didn't.
"You got it marked up?" He asked as Peter held his breath.
"Yeah. Do you mind helping me lift Peter out of here?" Harley asked, making Peter's heart pound in his chest. This was risky-- an unplanned risk. But what did they have to lose?
The man laughed as he came over to drag him out with pleasure. "I'm pulling him out by his hair."
"Just get him out."
There was a hand in his hair and Peter readied for the pain. He wondered what Harley had planned next. Was Peter supposed to do something with his legs free now? He couldn't even throw a punch with his hands still pinned beneath him, a hot burning in one of his wrists.
But before Peter could worry for too long, there was a shovel smacking something hard and the pressure in his hair was gone followed by a loud thud. When Harley spoke again, he sounded panicked.
"Get up, Peter. Get up." Hands were on him, trying to pull him up. They were desperate but didn't hurt as much as the other hands did.
"What happened?"
"Hit the fucker with a shovel. But he won't be out long, and the other creep will be back soon. We have to run." He was lifting Peter out of the hole and to his feet. Peter swayed on his feet for a moment while Harley held him up for a moment.
"Where are we running?"
"Anywhere," Harley told him, urging him towards the woods, away from where Garret disappeared.
Peter wanted to fall over and lay down for the rest of time, but he also wanted to make Harley proud. And he'd rather break his body than let Harley down. So he started running, ignoring the fire that flared in his stomach with each step.
Harley was holding onto his hand, helping him forward as they ran. Peter felt his eyes burning as tears started to fall. He was terrified, but Harley was brave. So he kept running.
Even when they heard shouting and a gun shout behind them.
Peter stumbled when the first bullet fired into the air, and Harley barely stopped running as he tugged him on. "Get up, Peter. Get up."
His entire body was on fire. He didn't know what hurt more. The dark wasn't coming back like it did before when he hurt too much. He wanted to he blissfully unaware in the dark again.
"You need to get up and run or else they will kill you." Harley pulled him up, supporting a lot of his weight. "You need to hang on. Just for a bit longer. Come on."
What was a bit longer? They were in the middle of the woods on another continent from everyone they knew. There was no way that they were going to be found by good people. They were either going to be taken again, or they'd waste away out here until they succumbed to injury, hunger, or thirst.
"Peter. Please. Run." Harley was begging as his voice cracked.
Peter couldn't let him down, even if there was no way they were getting out of this. So he forced himself to run again.
He stumbled as they ran through branches and leaves. In his mind, Peter pretended that they were kids again, chasing the sunset as they ran around the beach. He was so good at numbing himself to the world around them, it didn't take long for the sharp rocks under his feet to turn into soft sand. And the burning across his body was just a sunburn-- Dad told him to wear sunscreen, but he didn't listen.
Some kid must have dug a hole in the sand they forgot to bury because Peter tripped over a ditch and fell to the ground. He hit the ground hard and someone else must have fallen too because he heard a loud cry of pain, but it couldn't have been him.
Or maybe it was him because there was a hand over his mouth suddenly and Harley was shushing him. He sounded scared as he whispered, "Peter, we have to keep going."
Peter didn't want to go anymore. He wanted to sleep. He wanted to curl next to Dad on the hammock for a nap while Dad read his book. He wanted peace.
"Don't close your eyes. Open them." There was a slap across his face and Peter opened his eyes to glare at Harley. "Get up, Peter."
Before Peter could tell him to leave him alone, there were feet coming towards them. Harley looked towards the sound and his eyes widened. "Nevermind. We have to stop here."
He started dragging Peter towards the nearest tree and shoved him against the trunk. Harley came in close, his hand still over his mouth. He was so close to Peter that his shoulder was the perfect spot for Peter to lay his head down. They were being chased, Peter was hurt, and he was cold. But he had Harley. If that was all the peace he could get, it was enough.
"Where'd they go?"
"I don't know!"
"You were supposed to watch them, you useless fucking sack of shit!"
Peter winced. They sounded angry at each other, but he thought the voices were friends. Was Harley that mad at him too? He should ask.
"H'r'y," his voice was muffled behind Harley's hand.
"Peter, shut up," he said instantly, shoving his hand over his mouth harder.
Maybe he was mad.
Peter felt tears pour from his eyes. This felt like...this felt like it was all ending. The world, his life, their time together...he didn't want to end it all with Harley mad at him.
He started crying harder as Peter struggled to breathe through his now stuffed nose. Harley pulled away and Peter didn't have his shoulder to lean in anymore. "Peter, stop crying. You need to stop."
Harley was barely making a sound with his panicked whisper, and Peter knew he should try to be quiet too. But he couldn’t.
A second later, Harley was pressing their foreheads together and the pressure on his mouth lessened. "It's okay, Pete. I'm right here. We're gonna be okay, but you need to be okay. Just for a few minutes. Can you do that?"
Peter wasn't letting Harley down. So he nodded his head. He struggled to calm his crying though.
Harley noticed and said, "Deep breaths, Pete. In...out. In…out. You're okay. I'm right here. You've got this."
Peter so didn't have this. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't do this.
"If you stop crying, I'll bring you to Pops and Dad."
Peter opened his eyes, seeing Harley so close with their foreheads still together. Dad and Pops were gone-- or Peter and Harley were gone-- either way, they weren't seeing them again.
"That sounds nice, doesn't it?" Harley asked. "You want Dad and Pops?"
Peter nodded his head.
"Okay. Then be quiet. Just for a few minutes. And I'll bring you right to them."
"Promise?" Peter asked weakly behind Harley's hand.
"Y-yeah. I promise."
Peter nodded his head again, and it was hard. He used every bit of strength he had left to control his crying to silent sniffles.
Harley relaxed, closing his eyes. Peter shut his too, listening to Harley's comforting breaths. Peter focused on trying to line his up with Harley's. He could probably hear his heartbeat if he listened close enough, and that was a nice sound.
This was a nice dark again. It was just him and Harley. They were together. Nothing hurt anymore.
Of course, it couldn't last.
The world around them was silent. Harley was there with him. They were okay.
And then, Harley screamed.
Peter's peace was destroyed as he snapped his eyes open and saw the men above them. One of them was grabbing Harley and trying to pull him away. Peter grabbed onto him, refusing to let him go far.
Harley was kicking his legs as he was dragged, fighting them wildly. He was snarling and growling as he put up a fight.
He was doing well until a shovel came from nowhere and knocked him unconscious.
Harley fell instantly, all the fight gone. It was scary how limp he went that fast. Then the shovel was thrown and Harley was dragged by his foot away from Peter.
Garret came to Peter, wrapping his hand around his throat and slamming him against the tree. "You tried running? Where the fuck did you think you were going to go?"
Peter couldn't have replied, even if he wanted to.
"Stupid boy!" Garret screamed, pulling him towards him before slamming his head against the tree again. "You're dead."
And then he was lifted over Garret's shoulder, his legs just barely over him as he dangled behind him. He tried using his hands to steady himself, but his hands weren't easy to use while cuffed.
Garret was quiet as they walked. It was a scary quiet. There was no taunting or mocking. All Peter could hear was himself crying and Harley's body dragging through the sticks, rocks, and leaves on the ground.
A moment wasn't wasted once they were back to their hole. Harley heard a thud and knew Harley was kicked inside of it. Then Garret took a step forward and dropped Peter on top of him, and Peter was glad he was unconscious and couldn't feel how much it probably hurt.
"I hope you said your goodbyes already," Garret said, picking up a shovel. "Because you'll never see him awake again."
Peter was sideways on Harley and he could either flip on his back and glower up at Garrett one more time, or he could roll to his stomach and hide his face in Harley's neck for one last bit of peace before it was all gone.
He squeezed his eyes shut as the dirt started to rain down on his back.
There was no way Harley could keep his promise to bring him back to Dad and Pops, so Peter didn't need to keep his.
Peter cried loudly as he wished he could move his hands to pull Harley closer one more time.