Chapter Text
“Hey can you get me a water?”
Harley’s head snapped up. “You’re awake!”
“Yeah, and thirsty. Water please. Chop chop. Already getting dehydrated just laying here.”
“S-should I get the nurse in here or something? You’re, I…”
“Thirsty,” he said, in a sing-song voice.
“I’ll go get the nurse,” Harley said, mind still racing, “and get you water.”
He felt like the air was a thick Jello, each move constrained by the resistance of the thick goo holding him back. Each breath was taking in smog heaving through his lungs. Each blink was prolonged by the anvils of weight on his eyelids. Each thought he had were left blank.
He grabbed a glass from the cupboard and stared at the machine. What was I doing? Why am I here? What was I doing? Why am I here? What… Oh. That’s right. Water.
He held the cup under the machine but didn’t press the button. He just kept clinking the cup against the aluminum backing, listening to the “ding” as they collide. Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding. CRACK.
Oops.
There was a lot of blood. Just like when Peter was bleeding. Peter. Peter Peter Peter. Peter bleeding. Peter bleeding. Peter bleeding all over his hands and shirt and pants and hands and shirt and pants and hands and shirt and...
And suddenly he’s back in their bedroom, desperately trying to hold the wound closed as he waited for Tony to come get them.
Hands and shirt and pants.
And now there’s blood on his hands and shirt and pants again.
Oh right. I’m bleeding.
Bleeding on his hands and shirt and pants.
Hands and shirt and pants and hands and shirt and…
“Harley?”
He looked up. Where did that voice come from? He couldn’t see anything past the blur of tears pooling in his eyes.
“Harley, what happened?”
What did happen? Hands and shirt and pants and hands and shirt and… “Water. I was getting water.”
“Let’s get you cleaned up. Okay, sweetie?”
“But Peter is thirsty. He needs water.”
The voice was moving him to a chair. “Someone else can get him water, okay?”
“Okay.”
Harley floated with the voice. He felt the soft cushion underneath him as he relaxed into its fabric.
“Harley. What are five things you can see?”
See? “The blood on my hands. The blood on my shirt. The blood on my pants. The blood on this chair. The blood on the floor.”
The voice frowned. “Okay. What are four things you can touch.”
“My hands. My shirt. My Pants. The chair.”
“Good, good. What are three things you can hear?”
“You. The refrigerator humming. My heart.”
“What are two things things you can smell?”
“Old pizza. Blood.”
“And what’s one thing you can taste?”
“The remnants of my cinnamon gum.”
“How are you feeling now?”
His world was clearing. He could see the voice now. Pepper. It was Pepper.
“I don’t… I don’t feel… I don’t feel okay.”
She squeezed his shoulder. “That’s alright. You don’t have to feel okay.”
“Oh God. I… he… he almost… he’s… and I… and he and I… oh my God.”
“Harley, hon. You have to breath with me. Okay? In,” 1 2 3 4, “hold,” 1 2 3 4 5 6 7, “and out,” 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8. “Keep breathing and listen to my voice, okay?” she began to clean out his hand lightly.
“You’re at the Stark Tower. Peter is doing fine. He’s actually completely healed since last night. No more blood, no more wound. He’s awake and he’s doing just fine. You don’t have to worry.”
“I don’t have to worry?”
“No, you don’t. Because he’s gonna be fine. He’s doing fine.”
“He’s Spider-Man,” he said hollowly.
“Yeah. He is.” Pepper rubbed circles in his back to keep him stimulated as he thought. “Do you want to go see him? Would that make you feel better?”
“I don’t know.”
“That’s alright. How about we go see him? You’ll see he’s okay.”
“He’s thirsty. He needs water,” he said monotonously as if that was the most obvious fact.
“There’s water bottles in the drawer. How about we get him one of those?”
He nodded. “Okay.”
They shuffled their way back to his room where Peter was scrolling through his phone. “You’re back,” he said, not looking up from his phone. When he did, he dropped his sarcastic and spiteful demeanor and shifted to worry. “Hey, what happened?” he asked softly. He may be upset with him but he’s not a fucking monster.
“He’s in a little bit of shock, especially after you passed out and went into surgery,” Pepper explained.
“C’mere,” Peter directed Harley. He hesitantly walked to him. “Give me your hand.” When he didn’t, Peter grabbed it and placed it on his chest. “Feel that? That’s my heart. I’m alive and I’m fine and I’m right here with you. Isn’t that nice? Feeling the thing that’s keeping me alive?”
Harley nodded. “Yeah. It is.”
“Just keep feeling it. Count the beats.”
1… 2… 3… 4…
“You’re doing great, Harley. You’re doing great.”
“I’m sorry for being such a dick,” Harley said quietly.
“What do you mean?”
“I just gave you such a hard time and I had no idea you… and every night you… and I didn’t know that you…”
“You couldn’t have known. Don’t beat yourself over that.” You have other things to beat yourself over.
“How do you do it? How are you okay? Are you okay?”
Peter shook his head. “No, I’m not. But there’s a city to protect and it’s my job to do that.” He looked at Harley whose face was riddled with curiosity. “Okay, shoot. Ask me whatever’s going on in your head.” He mostly just wanted to get him distracted so his panic would die down.
“How did you get your powers?” he blurted out.
“Radioactive spider bite.”
“And your powers. How do they work?”
“Not really sure,” Peter shrugged, “but I’ve got enhanced strength, hearing, eyesight, metabolism, and precognition.”
“Woah. That’s why you…”
“Eat so much and stay so fit? Yeah.”
“And Abby? When she got kidnapped…” Harley already cringing at the answer he knew was coming.
“Yeah, that was me. She already knows about my identity so…”
“Abby knows you’re Spider-Man?!” he interrupted.
“Yeah she does.”
“Who else knows?”
“The Avengers, Ned, and MJ. My Aunt May used to know but uh yeah.” He scratched the back of his neck.
“How are you sticky?”
“Just happens. I think about sticking and I stick. Got really hard to control though.” Peter looks down and flexes his fingers a bit.
“So are you like part spider?”
“Yeah, kind of. It mutated my genes so I do have thermoregulation problems like a spider.” he shrugged.
“So does the web come from your…” Harley motioned with his hand.
“No, gross! It’s synthetic. Comes from my web shooters.”
“That adhesive that we used for our project...”
“That is in fact my web fluid.”
“Holy shit.” He gathered himself. “Okay, so when you said you were stopping a mugging you actually—”
“Yes.”
“And my self defense classes were—”
“Yes.”
“And your costume on Halloween was—”
“Yes.”
“Holy shit.” He sat on the bed. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry about everything I said. That was unfair of me. You are the most amazing, strong, inspiring, selfless, intelligent, loving, and generous guy I’ve ever met. You have changed my life and you change lives every night. You save lives and you’ve saved mine.” Peter raised an eyebrow at his statement. “Really. You have. And if you don’t realize that then, that’s okay. I’ll make you see it.” He looked down bashfully. “Holy shit,” he said breathlessly. “Sorry, I just, this is a lot. It’s all kind of hitting me.”
“It’s the adrenaline leaving your system. You’ve had a lot since you got here. Your catching up to the last couple hours all at once.”
“It sucks,” he said with a dry laugh.
“Yeah, it does. I get it every night when I come home from patrol. It’s like you’re so focused on the moment that you forget to feel and then all of a sudden you’re feeling everything all at once.”
“Yeah. That’s what it is.”
“How are you feeling right now?” Peter asked softly.
“Overwhelmed.”
“This can do that. I understand.”
“Are we okay, Peter?” he asked, not wanting to hear the answer.
“We can be, but for now? I’m not so sure.”
“Okay.” He nodded, almost frantically. “Okay.”
“What happened last night? I don’t really… I just was wondering…”
“Oh, well…”
THE NIGHT BEFORE
“Tony? I need your help.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Peter he’s been… he’s been, I don’t know, he said he was lightly stabbed but it doesn’t seem that light because he’s bleeding like everywhere and he just passed out and like I’m super worried because like oh fuck what if he’s dead? He can’t be dead. Please tell me he’s not dead.”
“Harley, I’m gonna need you to put his mask on for me.”
“What?” he asked, confused.
“His AI is gonna help you through this.”
Heart beating hard against his chest, he slipped on the red cloth, loose on his skin.
“Hello, Harley.”
“Uh what’s wrong with Peter?”
“He has been stabbed with a knife made of alien substance. It has made a wound impervious to his powers, causing his healing factor to be inhibited. His breathing is shallow and requires medical assistance.”
“What’s she saying, Harley?”
“Uh, she said that he got stabbed by an alien knife and his powers aren’t working.”
“I’ll be there in five minutes. You’ve gotta keep pressure on the wound, alright? You think you can do that?”
He nodded. “Y-yeah, I can do that. I think.” He placed his palms firmly against his shoulder. “Everything is gonna be fine. Everything is gonna be fine. Everything is gonna…”
The whir of the repulsors and clank of metal on the fire escape broke him out of his daze. He heard as the suit knocked on the window. As fast as he could he ran to open the window and back to Peter to hold pressure on his wound.
“I can handle it now.” Tony wrapped something around Peter’s shoulder and picked him up. “Happy will come pick you up. I’ll see you in an hour.” And with that he was gone.
It was indeed an hour when Happy came to pick up Harley who had been pacing and hyperventilating almost to the point of syncope. It was another restless hour as they drove back to the tower. By the time he sat down, he conked out purely of exhaustion.
He was abruptly awoken when Happy shook his shoulders, stating tiredly, “we’re here.”
He saw glimpses and pieces, Peter being wheeled past on a gurney, pale and weak, Doctors rushing past with hushed whispers, Tony telling him things he can’t hear. It wasn’t until an eternity of hours passed that he could sit with Peter.
He held his cold hand, trying to transfer his warmth somehow. He ran his fingers through his hair and made sure his head didn’t roll into an uncomfortable angle and cried when his machines went bezerk with beeps and he had to be pushed out of the room again. He didn’t fall back asleep.
NOW
“And then you woke up and now we’re here. I guess.”
“Are you okay?” Peter asked, softening.
“I should be asking you that,” Harley said with a humorless chuckle.
“I will be,” Peter said simply.
“We will be,” Harley repeated.
“You have school tomorrow. You should probably head home.”
Harley furrowed his eyebrows. “They said you’re healed. Aren’t you coming with me?”
Peter shook his head. “There were some chemicals in the knife that are still in my system. I have to be under close watch to make sure nothing happens.” ‘ Make sure I don’t lose my powers’ is what he meant, but didn’t say.
“Well I uh, I hope everything works out.” He began to walk out but turned back to look at him once more. “Bye. I’ll… uhm I’ll… I’ll see you later.”
“Yeah. See you later.”
When he closed the door behind him, he walked a few steps before pausing, staring at the white walls. “Holy shit.”