Chapter Text
Blood on his hands and shirt and pants. Hands and shirt and pants. Hands and shirt and pants.
Handsandshirtandpantsandhandsandshirtsandpantsandskinskinskin…
Sticky red soaking into his dress shirt. Dark and red and wet and seeping onto his hands and shirt and pants.
Peter, broken and brittle and bruised with blood dripped down his face and hands and shirt and pants.
Handsandshirtandpantsandskinandskinandbloodandskinand…
“Harley?”
His head snapped up, tremoring hands wringing out his knuckles. “Tony? Is he… will he…”
“He’s getting checked up right now. He’s gonna be fine.”
“He’s gonna be fine?” Harley repeated.
“He’s gonna be fine.”
Harley had to be ripped away from Peter’s side, tears streaming down his face, his cheeks stained with blood from where he wiped them away which only made him shake more.
Peter had lulled back into unconsciousness soon after Harley talked to him, and it was making him itch in anticipation for him to open his eyes once more.
His shirt was now stiff, the blood caked in the fabric drying hard against his torso. The phantom feeling of Peter in his arms haunted his senses, craving the sensation of his body pressed against his, the faint beating of his heart against his chest.
But instead, he was sitting in a rigid chair, staining the speckled vinyl red. Red on his hands and shirt and pants andhandsandshirtandpants…
“Harley,” Tony said firmly.
“What?”
Tony pulled his hands apart, where his nails were cutting into his soft skin.
“Oh.”
“How are you feeling?” Tony asked.
“Grey. Blue. Red. Green.”
Tony nodded. “I won’t hold it against you if you want to check out. You don’t have to be present right now. It’s okay.”
Harley shook his head. “No. Then I… I won’t ever come back from it. Not the same. I have to… I can’t.”
“Okay. You know you.”
Harley stared at the tiles, jaw tight. “It was our first kiss in two months. And I… we both were so distracted. We were so lost in the moment. It was so easy to get lost in the moment when he… and I… it was the perfect night. And… and he was so perfect. He is perfect. And then she… and I almost… because she knew how to… I missed her. I missed her and I let her manipulate me again. I let her take control. It’s all I knew for so long and it was so easy to fall back… because I missed her. And I know I shouldn’t. I can’t. But I… did. And it was so easy to… because I was so lost in the moment. And I can’t think when it comes to her. I used to fight so hard… fight and fight and fight and fight and…” His breath hitched. “She did that to him. And I let her.”
“You didn’t let her do anything,” Tony said. “Harley. You didn’t let her do anything. You hear me? What she did was out of your control. You did what you could do and you protected him the best you could in the time you had and the state of mind you were in.”
“It wasn’t enough,” Harley said through gritted teeth.
“Harley.”
He didn’t look up.
“Harley. You cannot sit here and play the blame game because the only person to blame is her. Do you hear me? This is not your fault.”
“But…”
“No buts. Harley, it… do you know how proud I am of you? After everything you’ve been through, you found the strength to take her down. You found the strength to not listen to her lies and to push past your fear and deeply rooted obligation to her and not do what she told you to do. That… bud, that’s amazing. That’s absolutely amazing. And I am so, so proud of you. I don’t say that kind of stuff, you know I don’t, but you need to hear it. These last months? I’ve been so proud of you. You have made so much progress and you… I know how hard it is to come back from things. It’s hell. But you pulled through. You found yourself again. You’re finding yourself again. And I… I am proud of the man you’re becoming.”
He smiled weakly. “Thanks, Tony.”
Dr. Cho approached the two, a clipboard in hand and an indiscernible expression on her face. “Can you please come with me to discuss Peter’s prognosis?”
Tony nodded, standing up. Harley stared at his hands, wringing out his knuckles.
“Harley?” Dr. Cho called. “Are you coming?”
He looked up, eyebrows furrowed. “Me?”
“You are Peter’s emergency contact.”
“I-I am?” Harley asked with wide eyes.
“Yes. You are.” She waved her hand. “Follow me.”
Harley’s hands trembled as he walked, feet heavy and sluggish, pain aching and numb, but not unbearable.
His breath hitched in his throat as he saw Peter reclining peacefully on the hospital bed, body wrapped in a myriad of bandages, hair still caked with blood.
“Before we went to surgery, we asked him a few questions to assess his cognitive awareness in case of concussion. However, we found that he has likely acquired a form of retrograde amnesia,” she explained.
“How bad is it?” Tony asked.
“It’s not completely severe. He seems to have lost about ten months of memories.”
Harley shot up. “Ten months?!”
Dr. Cho glared at him, causing him to stumble back to his seat, silently seething.
“Along with the potential retrograde amnesia, his eardrums have been ruptured, but thankfully, the damage is not severe and should heal overnight with his enhanced healing. He has multiple hairline fractures throughout most of his bones that are mending themselves as we speak, however he cracked three of his ribs and sprained his radius on impact along with the base of his skull that has stapled and will heal in about thirty six hours.”
“So, the amnesia. Is it… does he have brain damage?” Harley questioned.
She shook her head. “In fact, despite the physical damage to his skull, his brain is completely healthy. They are in line with his previous scans. So I… this could very likely be temporary, triggered by trauma. However, we must be prepared that it…”
“That it’s not,” Harley finished, fists clenched.
“The brain is a tricky thing. Sometimes, internal threats are more difficult than the physical.”
“So you’re saying that this is… that it could just all be in his head?”
“External trauma may have triggered the amnesia, however, psychological blocks are also a possibility. If anything, you should be familiar with the concept considering you suffered a similar memory block.”
“Because I was kidnapped and tortured for weeks!” Harley snapped. “Peter hasn’t… how could he forget… that…”
“Please just take a moment to breathe, Harley. Just breathe.”
He heaved unsteady breaths.
“If you are not mentally in the place to receive this information, then I would suggest that you refrain from the rest of this medical debriefing,” she stated.
“No… I… I’m fine. I’ll be fine.”
Tony eyed him warily. “Harley. It’s okay if you need to sit this one out. I can catch you up.”
Harley’s lip wobbled unsteadily. “I think I… I need to take a breather.”
“I’m proud of you, bud. I’m glad you’re taking care of you.”
“Peter would want me to,” Harley said.
“Why don’t you go get cleaned up? I’m sure you want to…” He stopped himself. “Go get cleaned up.”
Harley gave a silent nod and walked over to Peter, pressing a soft kiss on his temple before exiting, Dr. Cho’s voice fading away as he walked farther and farther from the medbay.
He floated to his quarters, stripping himself of his crusty clothes, frozen, petrified at the way his body was coated in Peter’s blood.
He started to run the bath, not bothering to close the drain because that last thing he wanted to do was sit in a pool of bathwater tinted red with Peter’s blood on his body and hands and skin and… and…
He ran the bath, not too hot, but a comfortable warm. He sat in the clawfoot tub and reclined against the cold white ceramic, the water running down his shoulder, just the way he liked it. (The only way he could handle it.)
With the magenta loofa that he never thought he would ever get real use out of, he scrubbed until his skin was raw and the remnants of red were gone and the water ran clear. And then he was sitting in the bathtub, staring at the granite counter, fingers pruning and legs shivering and shaking (though he knew it couldn’t be from the temperature).
He was finally able to peel himself from the tub, nearly slipping on his way onto the smooth tiles. Slipping on his softest pajamas, he pulled out his phone, fingers going to call Abby, but he froze as he caught the time. 4:07AM.
Knowing that he wasn’t getting sleep anytime soon, he headed to the kitchen and busied himself with a tall glass of whipped coffee. The monotony of whipping kept his mind occupied and the familiar clink that he had become accustomed to from his morning routine was reassuring and relaxing.
He sipped at the drink, fingers chilled from the cool glass, and stared at the wall, the room dim.
“Harley?”
He looked up, eyes glazed.
“Hey. How are you feeling?”
He squeezed his glass, wet from condensation. “I don’t know.”
Tony nodded. “That’s alright. That’s totally fine. Peter is gonna be asleep for a while, so I figured I’d come keep you company.”
“May I sit with him? So when he wakes up… then I can be there?” he asked softly.
“Of course you can. I can even bring in another bed into the room if you’d like.”
He shook his head. “The chair is fine.”
Tony looked like he wanted to refute, but held his lips together tightly. “Alright. If that’s what you want.”
“That’s what I want.”
Tony tried to decipher whatever was going through Harley’s head, but dropped it quickly with a weak smile. “C’mon. Let’s go.”
Peter looked so pale and small hooked up to wires and machines. The bruising was slowly fading and they had changed him out of his blood soaked suit.
Harley sat next to the bed, a gentle hand gripping Peter’s, careful to not squeeze. He placed his other hand on his cheekbone, running a thumb on his cheekbone.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry.”
He placed a slow kiss on his knuckles.
“Harley?”
His head snapped up, eyes wide at the brunette boy who groggily stirred awake. “Hey,” he said quietly, pulling himself away from Peter.
“What are you… what happened?” Peter slurred.
“I should probably let the doctor explain. I’ll go get her.”
Peter just nodded dizzily, eyes fluttering shut again.
Harley hesitantly left his side and went out, shutting the door behind him and wandering the long hall in search of…
“Doctor Cho! Peter’s awake,” Harley said.
“Yes, I know. I got an alert and was on my way.”
Harley paused. “Oh. Right.”
“Walk with me,” she said.
Harley shuffled with her, staring at his shoes.
“Do you feel stable enough to be present for my evaluation, or do you need to sit out? There is no correct answer.”
“I want to be there. I can… I can handle it.”
She eyed him suspiciously. “If you are in distress, you may leave at any time. Do you understand? The last thing we want is to distress Peter.”
“That is the last thing I want to do,” Harley parroted.
“Then understand that he may be in a very fragile state right now and the only thing we want is to make him feel comfortable and safe.”
“Of course.”
They approached the door. “After you.”
Harley gave a tentative smile and opened the door.
Peter was now more awake than before, twiddling his fingers. “Dr. Cho!”
“Hi, Peter,” she replied.
“What… what happened?” he asked with confusion.
“How’s your hearing?” she asked instead of answering his question.
“It’s a little like I’m underwater, but it’s… I can hear.”
She nodded. “Alright.” She handed him a tablet. “Well, you were involved in an altercation that caused you to have hundreds of hairline fractures throughout every bone in your body as well as…”
Harley zoned out as he studied Peter’s face. The way his brows strung together in deep thought and how he scrunched his nose, deep in thought. He hadn’t noticed he had been longingly staring until Peter had looked over to him, breaking him from his thoughts as he bashfully looked away.
“I just want to ask you some questions,” Dr. Cho told Peter. “You may remember them from before your surgery.”
He gave a finger gun. “Shoot.”
“What is your name?”
“Peter Benjamin Parker.”
“What year is it?”
“2019.”
Her face remained neutral. “What is the last thing you remember before you got hurt?”
He paused. “Well, I don’t remember getting hurt. Last thing I remember, I was going to the grocery store after work to grab some essentials and flowers.”
She asked more questions, each answer making the pit in Harley’s stomach fall deeper and heavier.
“Well, Peter, I can safely say that you have retrograde amnesia.”
His eyes went wide. “Amnesia? But I… it doesn’t feel like I have amnesia.”
“I don’t suppose there is a way it’s supposed to feel,” she replied.
“How bad is it? I mean, I remember my name and stuff.”
She took a moment to find the right words. “Peter, it is May 2, 2020.”
His jaw dropped. “W-what?”
“We have many resources to monitor your brain function and overall health, but the best course of action is to help you slowly acclimate to your normal life. Slowly introduce you to the things that are most familiar to you.”
“Is my brain okay? There’s no damage or anything right?”
She swiped the tablet. “The MRI and CT scans came clean.”
“Then why can’t I remember anything?” Peter asked, a waver in his voice.
“It could be a factor of things. The specific head injury you endured. Internal forces. Mental blocks. A mix of all three.”
He bobbed his head. “Alright. Uh, okay.” He eyed Harley warily again.
“Is everything alright?” Dr. Cho questioned.
“Uh, just uh, sorry, not to be rude, uh, but…” He gulped uncomfortably. “What are you doing here?”
Harley’s heart sunk. “I’m your, uh, emergency contact.”
Peter nodded slowly, not fully understanding. “So are we… we’re friends now?”
“Something like that,” Harley said with a rough crack to his voice.
“Huh. I guess a lot can happen in ten months.”
Harley nodded, chest tight. “Yeah. A lot can.”
Dr. Cho cleared her throat. “We’re going to want to monitor your recovery for a couple more hours, but you should be free to go home by the end of the day.”
“Sounds good,” Peter said, still looking at Harley, trying to piece together the mystery that he was.
Harley’s phone buzzed. “Sorry, I have to take this.” He stepped out of the room, answering the call, mouth dry. “Hello?”
“Hey, Harley! Emma Lee’s mom just wanted to know if she should drop me off or if you’re gonna pick me up?”
Harley cursed silently under his breath. “I’ll come get you. I actually… I’m at the compound right now.”
There was a long pause on the other side. “Why?”
“I… something happened last night and Peter got really hurt.”
“What happened?” she asked, fear evident in her voice.
“He… he’s got amnesia. You know what that means?”
“Yeah. I do.”
“Well, he… he doesn’t remember a lot of things right now, so he… he won’t remember who you are.”
Another pregnant pause. “Oh.”
“You don’t have to come here. We can go back to the apartment and just wait for Peter to be released and we can… well I don’t… I don’t know what we’ll do. But…”
“I know you want to be with him. So… you can come pick me up, and we can stay with him,” she said.
“Are you sure?” Harley asked.
“I’m sure.”
“I’m on my way.”
.-~*~-.
Apparently, Peter’s phone was shattered in the “altercation” that caused his injury, so he was mindlessly enjoying the cooking show that played on the Medbay television. His attention was pulled away when he heard a knock on the door.
“Hey,” Harley said.
“Hi,” Peter replied, guarded.
“I, uh, I just wanted to come say hi. I, uhm, I’m sure this is all really overwhelming.”
Peter nodded. “Yeah. It is.”
“Well, I just wanted to introduce you to someone so you know about them before you… because well… it’s, it’s complicated.”
Peter raised an eyebrow.
“We’re still roommates,” Harley said. “But, my little sister came to live with us.”
“You have a little sister?” Peter questioned.
Harley’s face dropped. “Uh, yeah. I do. And, well, she lives with us. So you’re gonna be seeing her a lot, and I just wanted to introduce you two so you wouldn’t be surprised when we go back to the apartment.”
Peter pressed his lips in a tight line. “Well, I, uh, I guess you can, bring her in?”
Harley gave a grateful smile and left the room, soon coming back with a small blonde girl, teary eyes pointed to the ground, Harley’s hand placed gently on her shoulder.
“Peter, this is Abby. My little sister,” Harley said.
“It’s nice to meet you,” Peter said hesitantly.
Abby choked out a light sob.
Peter froze with panic. “I’m sorry I… I know we must’ve met before. I just…”
“I know. You don’t remember,” she said quietly. She wiped her eyes with her sleeve, still not looking up.
“Sorry, I didn’t know this would…” He squatted down to Abby’s level. “Hey, kiddo. Do you wanna come help me to make Peter some breakfast?” Do you want to get out of here because this was obviously not a good idea?
She nodded silently, wiping her eyes again.
Peter gawked at the sight before him, Harley gentle and kind, voice tender and sweet. It was unlike anything he had ever seen from him.
Harley placed a gentle palm to Abby’s cheek and wiped away a tear, and kissed her on the forehead.
“We’re gonna go get you something to eat,” Harley told Peter softly.
“Okay,” Peter responded, still flabbergasted by this new Harley.
“We’ll be back.” And with that, he pulled Abby out of the room.
It was a silent walk to the kitchen, Abby sniveling and Harley rubbing circles in her back.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
“No. No no no, don’t be sorry. There’s nothin’ to be sorry about. I know this is real scary. I wasn’t thinkin’, bringin’ you in there like that.”
“Can we just… can we make him some pancakes? He loves pancakes.”
Harley smiled sadly. “We can make him some pancakes.”
The sounds of cutlery and bowls clanging together filled the room as the two shuffled around the kitchen. It was a nice distraction, even just for a moment.
Harley was pulled from his concentration when Tony knocked on the door frame.
“Hey. Can I talk to you for a second?”
Harley looked at the mess of the kitchen. “You wanna finish decorating Peter’s pancakes?” Harley asked Abby.
She nodded wordlessly, and squirted whipped cream in her mouth.
“Now, don’t go eating all the whipped cream. Leave some for the rest of us.”
She grinned.
Harley, more relaxed and reassured she was alright, followed Tony out of the room. “What’s up?”
“We need your statement on what happened last night.”
He tensed. “Oh.”
“If you need more time…”
“No. I… I can do it. Just, can I finish this? Get Peter his pancakes? Try to pretend that things aren’t as crazy as they are for just… for just a second?” Harley asked, his voice exemplifying his clear exhaustion.
“Of course. And, there’s going to be an interrogation for Rancoufe. She’s going to get justice.”
“Thanks, Tony. That’s… great.”
Tony put a hand on Harley’s shoulder. “It’s gonna work out. This will all… it’s gonna work out.”
Harley turned back to see Abby humming as she drew a smiley face with blueberries on her pancakes. “I sure hope it does.” His fists clenched. “Because I don’t know how much more we can take.”