"I'll go get them to hurry up with the discharge paperwork."
No conversation, not in a hospital. She hated these places and already had a knot of anxiety in her stomach that was making her want to throw up.
Two hours later she was at the door to his room, two plastic bags filled with a three pack of boxers, a pack of socks, pair of trainers, pale blue sweatpants, Curious George T-shirt and a mustard yellow hoodie with a SALE sticker on the tag.
She eyed him, then tossed the bags on the bed. -
"Alright." Her voice was soft, not annoyed or worried. Resigned if anything. But she hung up before he could say anything else.
Since she was at a hotel, she'd have to stop on the way and buy him some sweats. And he was getting Target, or whatever was on her way. -
Do I need to go flush the drain with some hydrogen peroxide?
“I’m not even saying good morning, this morning. I learned that some of you are miserable.”
Capri-bloods just aren’t enough anymore, huh?
Did you have a nice shower at least?
Vampurr O’Hara
It’s a lot of blood!
As I saw earlier
I just wondered where you’d put it all
(But if not cat, why so cute?)
And you didn’t throw up on the rug?
// did Bsky eat my Laura account?!
Get him home. See him safe.
Worry about the rest of it…. Never.
That was a good plan.
Then wait for the pain meds to wear off to make sure he didn’t do something stupid. Like go out and burst open his stitches while riding high on opiates.
“What hospital? And what name are you under?”
Not a good idea to use real names when wearing a Spidey suit. -
The Hand. Of course there would be some crisis in his life that would take priority over everything else.
It had never been, and never would be any other way.
“Clothes. I can do that.”
And a place to recover. Well, his place would still be fine. Meaning she just had to take him home. -
can't believe someone killed the spider who lived above the fridge
Mr Freeze was a good spider
Stop touching me and putting your webs on me without permission!
DIDN'T YOU TRY TO WEB MY FACE THIS MORNING?!
Just like that she closed the conversation down. Focussing on the immediate details rather than their non-conversation over an argument that neither of them were willing to give an inch over.
Battle of fucking wills.
Or just a battle to see who was the most stubborn.
As always, there was just so much left unsaid in those long pauses. The shape of words could be felt in the silence.
Before it stretched into something even more uncomfortable, she switched the phone to her other ear.
"So you need clothes or something? They not letting you out with an adult?" -
Plastic cup of ice water within reach.
Bruising on his pathetic face somewhere.
She forced the muscles around her eyes to relax.
"Why wouldn't I be?"
Had he gone to her apartment? Found something? Or had he just gotten his arse into some trouble elsewhere and now he was feeling nostalgic? -
It took a moment for her to realise that she was scowling into thin air. Imagining him there, probably lying on a hospital bed looking all pathetic. Bandage around his ribs because some how, they always had a bandage around their ribs even though there was absolutely no need for it. -
Which, of course she would.
Inhaling slowly through her nose, she tried to push everything down. Years of practice helped with that. She was good at shutting herself down.
It was far easier to sit with anger than with any other emotion.
"What do you need?"
Damn it.
Should have said 'what do you want'. That way she could tell him no. Now she'd said need, there was an implication that she'd help. -
She knew that sound.
Hated the sound, honestly.
Memories of her Dad dying surrounded by that noise came to her. Then her Mom. Then.. well, she refused to think of anyone else. Choosing to snatch up the idea that he was calling her because 𝘩𝑒 needed her help. -
Fourth time did it.
"What?" She snapped. No 'hello', no polite attempt at hiding her frustration.
She didn't lie!
He's twisting everything she said.
Now she's glaring at her phone, remembering the good old days when phones were cheap and you could toss them in the river, or into a convenient trash can when you were deep in your feels. -
Not saying nothin'
"There are no original ideas in literature."
"Might write a horror, have a next door sort of guy called Patrick Porter be transformed into a Bed Bug. He takes on the persona of BedBug-Boy and gets destroyed by his arch nemesis, The Exterminator."
And yeah, she pissed people off.
Rich people. Powerful people.
Pissed them off by exposing their fraud and corruption. Using her skills to address power imbalances and making them pay fair wages. Or giving back embezzled funds to those who lost livelihoods.
But he didn't think of that.
Not this Felicia.
Not much, anyway.
Not since she became a mother, anyway.
But, WHAT-EVAAAA
He's just being a really terrible friend right now. No matter what else goes on between them, he's shown that when it comes to it, she can't rely on him. -