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“C’mon, Peter.” Peter mumbles to himself, one hand clamped tightly over his newly acquired gunshot wound as he swung through the city. “You’ve been shot before. You got this.”
It seemed like a routine bank robbery.
There were six of them. Nothing he couldn’t handle.
He thought that he’d taken care of all of them. But after busying himself with making sure that those who had gotten caught in the crossfire were uninjured, one of the robbers had pulled a gun on a terrified little girl huddling in the corner with her mother.
Peter threw himself in front of them before he could even think about what he was doing.
And he could tell right away that it was bad.
The pain shot through his back and legs. It was almost like the time he messed up his sciatic nerve in his back when he went swinging for the first time after being shot in front of Jean at the Damage Control facility.
“Peter, your blood pressure is dropping rapidly.” E.V.I.E says worriedly through his hud, breaking him out of his thoughts. “I advise that you stop and call for help.”
He laughs breathily, the pain surging again. “I’m fine. It won’t be long until I’m back at the apartment. I can just stitch myself up there.”
“Do I need to remind you of what Mr. Castle told you?”
“Frank is busy with his own stuff right now, E.V.I.E. I don’t need to bother him with this.”
“That is not what he told you, Peter. And you know it.”
“E.V.I.E-”
Peter rolls his eyes as his AI starts to play the audio from his and Frank’s last meeting. “If you need anything, kid.” Frank’s gruff voice crackles through the speakers. “You know how to contact me.”
“That’s something that everyone says. It’s like saying you’ll make plans with someone when you don’t ever have the intention of following through.”
“And you have a lot of experience with that?”
Peter is taken aback by the sass from his own creation. “No, but-”
“You will cause yourself further injury if you don’t take a break.”
Peter groans in frustration at the insistence, eyes spotting May’s cemetery just below him. He lets go of the web he’d just shot out and plummets to the ground in a free-fall for several moments. At the last moments, he shoots out another web to lower himself safely to the ground.
“Happy now, E.V.I.E?”
“You still have not called anyone, Peter.”
He rolls his eyes, using his web shooters to make a temporary bandage to apply to his wound. His stomach rolls with nausea as he attempts to take a step forward on trembling legs.
He just needs to find a bench.
Or… or…
Peter picks his head up as he drags his feet in the cemetery grass. May’s grave.
He hasn’t visited her lately.
And he’s already here.
So why shouldn’t he take advantage of that?
He stumbles to a stop in front of the pristine headstone and collapses to his knees. He can vaguely register E.V.I.E trying to talk to him, but he doesn’t have the energy to try to decipher what she’s saying.
Peter coughs as he leans up against all that remains of his aunt, eyelids becoming heavy. “Just… jus’ a second E.V.- E.V.I.E… I’ll get going again in a second…”
“Peter? Do not close your eyes. Falling asleep with a large amount of blood loss will result in-”
Peter’s head lolls against his shoulder as his hard fought consciousness leaves him.
“Peter!”
— — — — — —
Ring! Ring! Ring!
Ring! Ring! Ring!
Frank groans and rolls over in his bed, fumbling for his phone on his nightstand. The bright flash of the screen tells him that it’s nearly four in the morning.
And the kid is the one that is calling him.
This better be good.
“Peter? Do you have any idea how early it is?”
“Mr. Castle.”
The sound of the Spider’s AI coming through his phone speakers makes him sit up straighter, a chill curling its way down his spine. “E.V.I.E?”
“Mr. Castle, Peter has been seriously injured and is currently unresponsive. We need your help.”
Frank is out of bed in an instant. He tucks the phone in between his cheek and shoulder as he searches for his gear. “What happened?”
“He’s been shot. He managed to make a bandage with his webbing before he fell unconscious, but it’s not enough.”
“Shit.” He curses softly, stumbling around his bedroom as he tries to tug on one of his combat boots. “Where is he?”
“Queens Hill cemetery.”
Frank tries to mentally run the numbers.
He still has to put on his gear and then drive there.
He…
He won’t make it in time.
“Can you do me a favor, E.V.I.E?”
“Of course, Mr. Castle.”
“Have there been any sightings of Daredevil tonight?”
The silence on the other end of the line threatens to bring back memories that Frank would rather not think about right now.
“Yes. According to the local news, someone saw him at the edge of Hell’s Kitchen several hours ago.”
“There hasn’t been any since then?”
“No, sir.”
Frank sighs, running a hand through his hair. “What are Peter’s vitals like?”
“They’re at dangerous levels. But not critical.”
He chews at his lip for a moment, weighing his options. “Keep me updated, alright? Call me if anything else changes. I have to make another call.”
“Of course, Mr. Castle.” The AI replies quickly. “Please hurry.”
— — — — — —
Castle.
Castle.
Castle.
Castle.
Matt’s brows furrow as he pulls his phone out from his suit pocket. He’s perched on the edge of an abandoned building as he answers the call. “Hello?”
“Red? Where are you?”
“Well hello to you too, Frank.” Matt says sarcastically. However the urgency in the other vigilante’s voice does not go unnoticed.
“Fuck you, Matt. I don’t have the time for this.” Frank growls. “Just answer the question.”
“I’m in Queens doing some recon on a case I’m working on. Why?”
“How far are you from Queen’s Hill cemetery?”
“Not far. I could get there in about five minutes.” Matt replies, starting towards the cemetery. Through the speakers of his phone, he hears the slam of a car door and the revving of an engine. “Frank, what’s going on?”
“The kid needs help.”
“The kid? The- you mean- are you talking about Spider-man?”
Frank sighs. “Yes, dumbass. Spider-man needs our help. He needs some first aid and I’m not going to get there in time.”
“What happened to him?” Matt asks, getting a running start and jumping to the next rooftop.
“He was shot. I don’t know where.”
“I’ll do what I can.”
“Thank you, Red. I’ll owe you one after this.”
Matt lowers himself down into an alley using a nearby fire-escape. He hangs up the call and sprints across the street, flipping himself over the fence that encases the cemetery.
He weaves through the headstones and other grave markers, looking for the injured hero.
It goes on long enough that he was beginning to question if Frank gave him the correct place.
But then he spots a foot.
And the sharp metallic smell of blood.
A lot of it.
Matt pushes himself to run faster through the grassy aisle. He collapses at the hero’s side and tilts his head, trying to use his senses to find the location of the wound.
His hand hovers above the unconscious body in front of him. And once he finds- or smells– where most of the blood is coming from, he presses down on it without any hesitation.
From what he can tell, Spider-man has lost enough blood.
He cannot afford to lose more.
The hero’s pulse was still strong, but he doesn’t know if that is the norm. Or if it is normally higher than that and what he is feeling right now is in a dangerous category.
Matt shakes his head.
There’s no point of even thinking about that right now.
His job is to make sure that there is pressure on the gunshot wound to Spider-man’s side. To make sure that he stays alive until Frank gets here.
And those thoughts did him well.
For the moment at least.
At least until Matt hears a pained groan and the hitching of a breath.
“D-Daredevil…?”
God, Frank was right.
Spider-man does sound like a kid.
Matt tries to give a reassuring smile. “That’s me. Just stay still. You’ve lost a lot of blood.”
Spider-man starts shifting beneath him, trying to sit up. “No. I’m alright. I’m alright.” He babbles as Matt pushes him back against the grass. “I was jus’ resting my eyes…”
“Stay down, kid.” Matt urges. “I’m doing a mutual friend a favor. If he finds you in worse condition than what I found you in, he won’t be happy with either of us.”
“A… A friend?”
“You know Frank Castle?”
A breathy laugh escapes from the hero. “Frank called you?”
“He did.”
“Where is he?”
“On his way.” Matt presses down a bit harder on the wound, trying to ignore the smell. “He called me because he wouldn’t have gotten here in time to help you.”
“Oh.”
Time becomes a funny thing when you’re trying to keep someone alive.
Minutes feel like hours.
Everything feels as if it’s moving through some sort of time warp.
Matt doesn’t know how long he’s been here, but eventually he hears a car squeal to a stop just outside the cemetery gates. He hears a gunshot and the sounds of splintering metal.
Rushed footsteps.
And then two thumps as knees hit the ground.
“How’s he doing?” Frank asks quickly, holstering his pistol. But then Matt learns that the question is not directed at him- rather towards the voice that was talking to him through his earpiece.
Frank gives a short nod to the response that he receives. Then looks at Matt. “Alright, Red. Do you think you can lift him for me? We need to get him back to my place.”
Matt doesn’t even respond with words. He just gently hooks his arms underneath the kid’s shoulders and knees and stands.
— — — — — —
When Peter’s eyes open, there is no gradual reintroduction to the world. No soft light sifting through the curtains. No silence.
It was as if the whole world decided to slam into him at once.
The lights in the room that he was in made him feel as if he was staring into the face of the sun.
And he could hear cars honking and conversations that were taking place several miles away.
He moves to try and sit up, his chest heaving. But something pulls on his side.
It hurts.
“Whoa, kid.” A voice says gently. “Hey, you’re alright. You’re with me.”
Peter turns his head towards it, trying to blink the figure next to him into focus. “Wh…”
“You’ve been back on the job for what? Three months? And you’ve already gone and got yourself shot up again?”
Shot.
Again?
He blinks again, trying to pull in the deepest breath he can manage.
Then the figure starts to clear up.
Jet-black hair.
A broken nose.
Frank.
He’s with Frank.
“What ‘appened?”
“E.V.I.E called me saying that you’ve been shot. She said she had to do it because you refused to do it yourself.”
Peter shakes his head and tries to sit up again, but is pushed back down rather quickly. “Frank-”
“We talked about this kid. If you ever need help from me, anytime or anywhere, I’d be there.”
“But you’ve been-”
“It doesn’t matter what I’ve been doing. God, do you even listen?”
There were some footsteps as another person entered the room. “Go easy on him, Frank. He just woke up from a near death experience.”
Frank rolls his eyes and turns. “You haven’t dealt with him as much as I have. This kid has a thicker skull than you do.”
When the figure approaches, becoming clearer in Peter’s line of sight, his eyes widen. “Mr. Murdock?”
His one-time lawyer gives a surprised smile. “You must keep up with the news, don’t you?”
Peter nearly shakes his head. Almost tells the former lawyer that he’s the same kid that he helped all those years ago. But he doesn’t want to freak either of the other vigilantes out.
So instead, he just nods and gives a smile of his own. “I guess I do. I’m glad you were able to get that pardon.”
“Me too.”
Frank looks between the two of them with a questioning look before returning his focus to Peter. “Never do that again, you hear me? Twice was enough.”
“Twice?” Mr. Murdock questions.
“Yeah. Tonight and then- you know what? It doesn’t matter.” Frank says. “Never again, alright?”
Peter nods and lets his head fall back against the pillow behind him as a small smile crosses his face. "Never again."