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Contrary to the popular belief of the public, Johnny actually tries to be careful when it comes to patrolling and such.
He made it his number one personal mission ever since developing his powers to be extra careful around anybody and everything. It became immediately clear how flammable every day objects were. His favorite cereal box bursting into flames at his touch, half his clothes disintegrating between his palms, the wires he used to fiddle with in Reed's lab sparking from contact. They even had to remove door knobs from a few doors for a bit because he kept heating them up.
Not to mention the one time he accidentally burnt Sue after she tried consoling him.
Yeah, he made sure to be extra careful after that.
Which is why he's surprised to find himself with a gaping wound in his stomach from a very unnecessarily long knife that was in the hands of a very unnecessarily mean man.
It should have been an easy side quest, really. He heard the sound of a mugging going on down an alley a few blocks from Wade's apartment and decided it'd be a quick pit stop before his bi-monthly movie slash game night with team red.
According to the group chat, they've decided on watching Frozen tonight. He can't miss that.
So, he beat up a few guys, left them for the police to come pick up and completely forgot to watch his back. He can almost hear Peter's chiding already.
The metal of the fire escape clangs wildly as he hauls himself up the side. He would just fly up, but Reed has warned him against doing that too many times to count. The mobility of flying would only open the wound wider and he might've died from blood loss alone by now.
Johnny gasps as another wave of pain pierces through his side. He stumbles, catching himself on the railing just in time, resurrecting another clang. It resounds off the alleyway walls.
His vision swims before him as he looks down to find his hand covered in a sickly crimson.
He grimaces and pushes himself back up.
If Spidey can survive two bullet wounds, Johnny will be damned if he lets himself be killed by a single stab wound. He's had worse—he'll be fine.
A soft, autumn breeze drifts through the streets as the faraway sound of traffic reaches his ears. If he listens closely enough, he may be able to catch the jingle of keys as someone nearby closes up shop for the night. Or the shouting of pedestrians trying to drive through the oncoming traffic.
The city that doesn't fucking sleep.
His grip on the railing tightens, and he drags himself the rest of the way up the stairs before practically falling onto the next landing. He catches his grip slackening against the wound and registers distantly the sound of thunder from an approaching storm. Which is weird, because he hadn't seen any clouds overhead during sundown. Maybe he is worse than he realized.
The stairs beneath him vibrate, and the thunder grows closer until there's the outline of a blurry figure crouching down in front of him. Something nearby clatters to the ground.
Johnny lets out an uneven breath of relief as the figure's face comes into focus, the familiar red-tinted sunglasses and brown hair sending a wave of calmness coursing through him.
"Hey, Matt. How's it going?" Johnny tries feebly.
"Jesus, what happened, kid?" The other's voice came out slightly muffled compared to the pounding of his heart.
Johnny attempts a smile, "Just some guys in an alleyway with a very pointy stick. I'm fine."
"Doesn't sound like it," Matt mutters. His head tilts to the side as if he were listening for something before Johnny feels an arm snake around his back and hoist him to his feet.
He full on yelps as a sharper, more distinct pressure appears against his side. Matt doesn't remove it. Instead, his hold grows impossibly gentler.
It feels like an eternity before they finally reach the window of Wade's apartment—Johnny's usual front door. There's the sound of rummaging kitchen utensils followed by yelling from somewhere off to the immediate right.
Another figure enters his peripherals. "Well, there's the little firefly. Finally decided to join us?" Wade asks.
Johnny fights back a grin at the unforgettable cheery tone, "You didn't start the movie without me, did you?"
Wade smacks a hand dramatically over his heart in offense, "I would never."
"What happened," Peter asks from the kitchen table. It's more of a statement than a question with the side of a cold undertone. Johnny hates that tone.
Matt helps him through the window. Wade's apartment is nice all things considered. It's cozy in a way only Johnny can find in his own room nowadays. Small, but not too small for their game slash movie nights and the occasional times where Logan joins them.
He does wish Wade would get a bigger couch though. Last time it took a whole day for the rug burns on his elbows to go away.
"They're gone now," Matt informs a Wade who is already halfway to the door and a Peter who is halfway out the window they came through. He also has his mask on, and Johnny's a little confused as to how out of it he really is, because he hadn't registered any of their movements.
He sways as Matt props him against the counter and begins rummaging through cabinets.
This really wasn't how he planned for his night to go. All he was hoping to do was catch up with some old friends, watch Frozen, and then pick up a few Halloween preparations like he promised Sue he would do.
Now she's probably going to kill him herself.
His hand slips, but Peter catches him before he can hit the floor.
"Wade—"Matt starts.
"The top drawer on the end," Wade interrupts. Matt rips it open and grabs a handful of something Johnny can't really see right now. He's too busy trying to keep his eyes open to look.
Johnny's not the first one of them to arrive with a severe injury. That thought probably should not make him feel better, but it does because that's the only reason Wade has any medical supplies in his apartment at all.
Spidey had come home a little rough for wear one time and instead of throwing the Monopoly board across the apartment for the third time, they turned on a movie for Peter to watch while Johnny and the other two silently plotted a way to find the people who did it. As a regular group of friends do.
"Hey, Pete," Johnny says a little shakily as the other crouches down in front of him. The mask is gone and it calms some of his nerves.
"Hey, Idiot. Now stop talking," Peter says not unkindly.
Unfortunately, having previous experiences of being patched up doesn't make the pain any easier to bear. The bandaging process is nothing short of continuous yelling and a bunch of colorful language from all parties involved. His phone had broken in the fight against World's Longest Knife, but his sister is the most determined person he's ever met.
His wrist watch vibrates as a new text comes in from his sister. He didn't even know the watch could do that, but Reed does tend to count for everything he can think of.
Johnny sends back a quick reply despite his fingers being unable to hold still. A sharp hiss escapes him as Matt wraps gauze around his middle, "Ow—Murdock!"
"You're so dramatic," Wade whines as he hops onto the counter and takes a bite out of a slice of pizza. Johnny doesn't even want to know what went wrong for them to order pizza instead of cook.
It feels like an eternity before Matt finally finishes. The pain resides slightly, but the grogginess returns full force. Matt's saying something about him losing too much blood. The words sound like they're muffled as if he were underwater.
And maybe he is because it feels an awful lot like he's floating in one of the many waves the world consists of.
He doesn't know how much time passes between when he was on the kitchen floor and when he wakes up. All he knows is that he doesn't remember falling asleep and that this couch is really comfortable.
The faint sound of voices comes from his right and when he finally opens his eyes, he thinks for a split second that maybe he had died. That's normally the case whenever a person sees a blinding light in front of them.
Johnny blinks rapidly, a dull throb erupting in his side as he tries to move.
"Good morning Sleeping Beauty," Wade chimes in from the side.
He shoots what he assumes to be a glare in the other's direction before resting his head back again. When his eyes readjust, the first thing he fully sees are two familiar brown eyes staring back at him.
His own eyes grow wide and he springs into a sitting position, nearly smacking straight into Peter as he goes. The pain that shoots up his body is all-consuming and yet he hardly even feels it as he realizes it wasn't a pillow he was lying on, it was Peter's lap.
Peter burst out laughing. Johnny rolls his eyes as he takes in the scene around him for the first time, hand instinctively hovering over the now red-stained bandage at his hip.
The movie is already playing on the television contrary to Wade's earlier statement. It's not at the half way point yet (yes, he's seen it so many times he knows what the half way mark is), so Johnny concludes he couldn't have been out for more than twenty-five minutes. Matt is sitting in the only chair available which leaves Johnny guessing that Wade—very unhappily—gets the floor. He can't contain the triumphant smile that stretches across his face.
There's an open pizza box on the coffee table with two slices left, presumably for him. Now that he's thinking about it, he hasn't eaten in a good few hours.
"I hate all of you," he mumbles with as much energy as he can muster. He reaches for a slice of pizza.
"I'm sure you do," Matt says with a barely contained chuckle.
That's how the rest of the night went. He only managed to finish one slice of pizza before him and Wade sang a masterful duet to "Let It Go" alongside Elsa. He's ninety-nine percent certain Wade got a call the next morning about a noise complaint.
He picked up those Halloween decorations even if it was one in the morning and most of the good stores were closed. When he got home, he wasn't even surprised his sister had caught on to the fact that something had gone down. In hindsight, maybe he should've listened to Peter and covered his bandages until that morning, but alas, he faced the mighty wrath of Sue's worry for the entirety of next week.
And if he noticed a news title about how the same guy who had gotten the jump on him in that alleyway was then comprehended a few days later with more than one knife wound and stuck upside down via spiderwebs, he doesn't mention it. Nor does he mention the fact that the guy was sentenced to jail in a case with New York's best lawyer.
Yeah, okay, maybe he doesn't actually hate them after all.