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There was so much pain, and all Peter could do was fight through it.
His body ached with bruises and cuts and a fairly large bullet wound lodged into his back, and Peter thought today was the day he was going to die.
But when the darkness began fading, and the light around Jean's face came into focus behind his eyelids, Peter opened his eyes to the flourescent lights of a hospital room. He slowly turned his head to the right, seeing bouquets of flowers littering the table. His eyes focused on drawings and cards and balloons galore, his eyes half-lidded in exhaustion.
He saw MJ's drawing among the collection, and sighed into his breathing mask. He heard a snort to his left, and he slowly turned his head to see Frank Castle collectively passed out onto a chair.
His arms crossed, his eyebrows furrowed, and his head tilted back as he slept.
Peter struggled to speak, and he realized in that moment he wasn't wearing his mask anymore. Panic settled in, so he reached up to rip off his oxygen mask. He began pushing at his blanket tiredly, looking for his suit around the room.
He struggled to sit up in the hospital bed, his heart hammering against his chest.
"F-Frank?" Peter whispered, breathing rapidly.
Frank gave another snort as he opened his eyes suddenly, his head whipping towards Peter in quick succession.
"Whoa, whoa whoa whoa. Cut that shit out, now." Frank said softly, leaning over to gently push Peter's chest back towards the bed.
"F-Frank, I need my m-mask-" Peter moaned.
"Hey. Hey, it's okay. Its right here. The Doctors had to take it off to make sure you were alright and help ya breathe, but I made sure they don't know who you are, okay?" Frank said slowly, his eyes tracing over Peter's worried expression.
Frank pointed towards the end of Peter's bed. Peter let out a relieved sigh as he saw his mask and suit hung over the bedpost, safe and sound.
"O-Okay." Peter mumbled.
"Where's Jean? I-Is she okay?" Peter asked, and Frank turned his face away, his eyes looking towards the wall.
"Y-Yeah. She's fine. More then fine, she's long gone. She used her freaky voodoo-shit to keep you alive. She didn't leave until she knew you were going to be alright." Frank muttered, crossing his arms tightly to his chest.
"That's good. Great, even. Thanks for looking over me." Peter smiled.
"Yeah, well, I did shoot you." Frank said, turning his attention back to Peter.
He stared at Peter's bruised face, and Frank felt the tears beginning to well up again. He sniffled and snorted quickly, shifting in his seat uncomfortably. He rubbed his eyes with his forefinger, trying to mask his crying.
"I-I'm so fucking sorry, Spider." Frank said after a beat, laughing as a few tears fell down his face.
"Happens all the time." Peter smiled, tilting his head.
"Yeah, well. Pretty shitty of me to shoot the only good vigilante in town. Christ, I've seen some shit in my day, but the stunt you pulled? Probably the bravest thing I've ever seen." Frank sniffled, quickly moving to wipe more tears cascading down his face.
"You crying, Frank?" Peter grinned, letting out laugh.
"Fuck off." Frank chuckled, and Peter reached over to stretch his hand out.
Frank's laughter died in his throat, and Peter winked over at him tiredly as he stared down at Peter's outstretched hand. Frank hesitantly went to grab it, and Peter instinctly ran his thumb over Frank's knuckles.
"Can't believe you cried." Peter said teasingly, and Frank squeezed his hand gently.
"You can't prove shit, Spider." Frank said, shaking his head.
"Nah. I know. I won't plan on it, Frank." Peter said, and tugged onto Frank's arm lightly.
Frank leaned forward onto the bed, cupping his other hand on top of Peter's. He squeezed Peter's hand with both of his easily, cradling and lacing his fingers with Peter's. Both his elbows dug into the soft mattress, and Peter leaned his head back against his pillow, finally letting himself relax.
"When you're ready to go, I got a plan." Frank said, determined.
"Oh yeah? What's cooking, Frank?" Peter asked.
"You walk out of here as you are, and I wear your mask and show the fans you're just fine. Pretty simple plan if you ask me." Frank said.
Peter chuckled, his eyes darting at Frank's smug expression.
"Easier said then done, Frank. You sure it's gonna work?"
"Fuck yeah it will. Trust me." Frank replied.
Peter sighed, and shrugged his shoulders.
"Whatever you say Frank, I trust you with my life."
"Don't say shit like that, Spider. I almost killed you today." Frank warned, his face flushing.
"Yeah, I know. Still do." Peter said.
They sat in comfortable silence for a moment, hands still clasped together, until Frank shifted in his seat.
"You look like how I imagined you would. Just a kid from Queens, looking to make a difference." Frank admitted.
"As good looking as you imagined?" Peter teased, and Frank rolled his eyes, a faint blush appearing on his cheeks as he attempted to let go of Peter's hand.
"Ha ha. Fuckin' hilarious."
Peter reached over with his free hand and took both of Frank's hand in his own . He laced his fingers with Frank's, and settled their hands on his chest.
Frank let out a nervous laugh, and mumbled something under his breath.
"Huh? Can you lean in and tell me what you just said?" Peter snickered.
Frank rolled his eyes. He let go one of of Peter's hands to whisper in his ear. He leaned down by Peter's ear to repeat his secret.
"Of all the shitty thing's I've done, being your friend was the best of it." Frank mumbled.
As he turned to move away, Peter leaned over to press a kiss against the corner of Frank's lips, Frank's lips parting in surprise. Peter pressed another quick kiss against them, Frank barely registering either one. His brain short circuited as Peter smiled up at him.
"Are we friends now?" Peter joked, and Frank laughed.
"I fucking hope so."