writing wrongs 7/?
Title: Writing Wrongs
Author: windywisp
Genre/Pairing: Torksmith atm
Rating: PG-13 atm
Warnings: AU, some language, a little bit of violence, nothing too bad..yet(hahhaho)
Disclaimer: ye it totally happened(no)
Summary: Peter decides to take a trip to the wild west, and gets loads more than what he bargained for.Author's Note: wow this one's p short and p dumb and unfactual(is that a word?)agagahah really not too happy with it but yeah hopefully better stuff soon oh and happy fourth of july (◕‿◕✿)
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"Is he awake?"
"I think so."
"I'm awake," Mike muttered.
"Did you even sleep?"
"I tried," he muttered, sitting up from his blankets, running a hand through his mussed bedhead. "Peter-" he started. "Already in operation," Micky said, handing him a sandwich. Mike stared at it and gave Micky a look that said, You expect me to eat this?
"Look, man, you being malnourished or something isn't going to help Peter a bit. Yes I know you've been worried about him," Micky said as Mike opened his mouth. "And being all...whatever isn't helping. So."
Mike snorted at him and took a bite out of his sandwich. He grimaced a little, not because it tasted bad, but because he was feeling to nauseous to really digest anything. The doctor had gone on for ages telling them about the dangers of the operation and how experimental it was - but it was Peter's only hope and Mike wasn't about to jeopardize his life. But really, either way he went he was jeopardizing Peter's life.
"Fuck," Mike muttered as he shoved the rest of his sandwich into his mouth.
Micky watched Mike get up and rest his head against a tree, face unreadable. They'd been camping out by the hospital, ready to meet Peter if he got out of the hospital. When, Micky thought, glaring at his fingers. When he gets out of the hospital.
--
"Peter? Peter, can you hear me?"
Peter slowly turned his head to look at the doctor standing over him. He still felt woozy from the anesthetics and he could barely focus on him, but he nodded slowly.
"Feeling okay?"
"Yeah, I guess," Peter murmured, propping himself up. His head swam a little as he got up and the doctor looked concerned. "Can I see my friends yet?" he murmured.
"They've been asking for you all day," the doctor replied.
"Can I leave today?"
"Depends." the doctor said, glancing at his arm.
Peter glanced at his arm too, which was feeling quite numb and had bandages rapped around the lower part of his arm. "It's your non dominant arm, so hopefully you won't strain it too much." He left the room, and almost right afterward, Micky and Davy crowded into the doorway and Micky shoved Davy in the room, snickering.
"Hey," Davy said, sitting in the chair next to him. "Are you okay?"
"As okay as I'll ever be," Peter sighed. His eyes glanced quickly up at the door, where Mike and Sara were coming in. "Hi Mike," he ventured, hoping for the best.
Mike barely looked at him as he muttered,"Hey, Pete."
Peter tried to keep a hurt look off his face as he brought his numb arm up to his chest and turned to talk to Micky and Davy.
Mike knew better though, really. Peter wore his heart on his sleeve and Mike knew he was hurt, and Mike knew it was because of him. Stupid, stupid, stupid, he thought, staring at his boots and slumping down in his chair.
"What's wrong?"
He glanced over, surprised. Sara never really talked to him, and he never really talked to Sara. "Nothing," he muttered. "I know something's wrong," Sara murmured, staring ahead at Peter showing his bandages to Micky.
"I...It's....Peter," Mike muttered.
Sara turned to him. "Why? He's okay now, supposedly. Are you still hung up on the belief that it's your fault?"
"It's not a belief it's the truth. And - oh what am I even doing, I couldn't tell you."
"Why not?" she asked, head tilted.
"Because you're trying to take Peter from me," he blurted and then cursed himself inwardly so hard that he was sure he was just going to burst into flames on the spot. What's with you? It's like you can't keep your damn tongue tied anymore.
"What?"
"Nothing!" Mike snapped, just a little too loudly. Micky and Davy and Peter looked up, eyes wide. "Mike? Are you okay?" Peter asked, head cocked, and that stupid, precious, innocent look crept into his face. Mike resisted rolling his eyes - not that face, not again - and stood up. "Let's get going, guys."
The doctor dismissed Peter, checking his arm up and reminding him not to strain it. Mike didn't look back as Peter climbed up behind him and clung to him tentatively. I really hope I'm doing the right thing, Mike thought as he picked up the reigns.
Mike led the group, off the way they'd been going. He could see Micky giving him a weird look and even Peter realized that this wasn't normal. "Mike, where are we going?" he asked quietly. Mike just grit his teeth, not stopping or answering. This was for the best.
"Mike? Why are we at the train station?"
Mike slid off his horse, glancing up at Peter as he did. He hadn't gotten off the saddle and there was a mixture of realization and stubbornness setting into his expression "It's probably best you go on home, it's too dangerous for you out here an-"
"No!" Peter cut in.
Mike stared at him, and Peter crossed his arms and stuck out his lip like a pouty two-year old.
"I'm not going."
Mike glanced at Micky and Davy for help, and they both shrugged. He looked at his feet, listening to the sound of people walking along the sidewalk behind him, hearing their goodbyes and hellos. "Look, Peter, your arms pricked half to death and you don't know how to handle a gun very well, and I don't want you getting hurt aga-"
Peter muttered something.
"What?"
"It's okay," he murmured.
Mike just stared at him.
Peter looked up at him from under his bangs. "It's okay," he repeated, willing him to understand. Davy turned to Micky. "What's going on?" Micky snorted. "Hell if I know."
Next to them, Sara was staring silently at the two of them, eyes searching their faces. She didn't understand what had happened between them before, but she could understand what was going on between them right then.
"Peter..." Mike started.
"If you make me get on the train," Peter said, moving up the saddle and grabbing the reigns, "I'll ride off and you'll never see me again!"
"Peter," Mike said, trying not to laugh. "Do you even know how to ride a horse?"
"Of course I do," Peter muttered, glaring at him. "It's my horse they stole, you know."
"Hey, can we go?" Micky called, sitting up in the saddle. "Either Peter gets on the train or he comes with us, but we can't sit around here all day, man."
"I'm coming with," Peter said as Mike opened his mouth. "C'mon Mike!"
He tried hard not to grin as he sighed and jumped back into the saddle, shivering a little as Peter put his arms back around. He felt the blonde's mouth near his ear.
"It's okay, Mike. It was nice. Really nice."
He tried hard not to let his face go red, but he smiled, pulling the reigns. Peter squeezed his arms around him and laid his head on his shoulder.