Work Text:
Peter lay in his hospital bed, focusing on his breathing in a vain attempt to keep his mind off the steadily healing pain in his back, panicking about Jean and wherever it may be she's ran off, and Frank fucking Castle yacking his ear off beside him about his grand plan to help him make it out of there without anyone paying too much attention.
Honestly, the sooner the better. He'd only been awake a few hours and he was already itching to leave.
There was just one more thing he had to settle in the meantime. That, too, he was trying desperately not to think about.
Eventually, however, he figured he might as well just bite the bullet — ha, ha ha ha — and get it out in the air.
Because if that bullet hadn't killed him, this was most definitely sure to do the trick.
"Frank, how much is this all gonna cost?"
Frank sat upright.
"Hm?"
"I mean, someone's gotta pay for all this, right? And I… I can't, dude, I don't have anything. Only reason I don't pay rent is because of all the asbestos, I sleep on an old couch I picked up off the street—"
"Hey, hey, hey, woah, relax kid, okay, it's no big deal—"
"No big deal? Seriously? Frank, I'm biologically broke, don't be telling me it's no big deal when I most likely gotta now pay out hundreds of thousands of dollars in medical bills for this shit—"
"Alright — slow down, shut your mouth, and listen."
Peter slumped back into his pillows, and did as he was told.
"Nurses came in a couple hours ago, told me they got a call. Said that when it came to the money, it's all been covered, you don't gotta worry about nothing, alright?"
"Wait, what do you mean it's all been covered?"
"Yeah, apparently someone sorted you out."
"Who?"
"I did."
Peter blinked his gaze over to the doorway of the room, where a figure dressed in a clad blue suit smiling as wide as the Grand Canyon had magically appeared.
He then blinked again.
And again, for good measure, just to make sure his eyes weren't deceiving him.
"MAMDANI?!"