TROUBLE! ━ TASM.

four.

Early in the morning, so early that the sun hadn't even risen yet, Violet jolted awake on the couch, sweat making her hoodie stick to her skin. She was unable to drift into sleep without the moments of the former night plaguing her dreams, and she couldn't even wake up without being reminded of it. Pain still ached dully on her side, and she realized quickly that she wouldn't survive this recovery without a whole pharmacy of pain pills.

Sitting up on the couch, she gently pushed off the thin cover that she assumed Peter had covered her up with when she had fallen asleep. Like everything she had attempted in the past twenty-four hours, it didn't go right, and the blanket tumbled off the couch and landed into a tight pile on the floor. She simply sighed before glancing at the coffee table beside her, noticing that it was now adorned with a pile of clothes. Slowly reaching over, she grabbed the shirt on it, unfolding it and glancing at it.

A cheesy slogan was printed across the front in bold letters, and she snorted. The smell that wafted off of it made her realize it belonged to his Aunt May, and when she grabbed the sweatpants, she realized that they, too, belonged to her, and she raised her eyebrows. Was she really the same size as his aunt?

Wanting to not feel so sticky and hot, she reached for the bottom of her hoodie to pull it off, only for the movement to send a burning-hot pain up her side, causing her to grunt and grab at her side, fingers touching her bandage loosely. She attempted a couple more times, but was met with the same end result - being completely unable to raise her arms without wishing she had just been fully shot and had her hoodie cut off by scissors.

The idea made a lightbulb go off in her head. Violet brought herself to her feet slowly, taking a few steps forward. The lack of dinner or any type of nutrition and the shock her body had been through made her wobbly on her feet, and she grabbed onto the wall to steady herself. After way too many agonizing steps, she was finally in the kitchen, and she didn't even think about turning on a light. The last thing she needed to do was wake up Peter's aunt and uncle after causing them so much hassle that night.

Assuming that all normal families held scissors in their kitchen, she pulled her phone out of her pocket, turning on the flashlight and starting to go through the drawers. Once she saw something that resembled the handle of scissors, she reached in to grab them, only to mistakenly yank it out and send spoons clattering to the floor. Immediately, she froze, as if staying still would erase the ruckus she had just made. When she assumed everything was good, she went back for the scissors, gleefully holding them up when she realized that's, in fact, what they were.

"What are you doing?" A voice mumbled from the entrance, and she turned to the sound, looking like a deer in headlights.

As if it explained everything, the girl held up the scissors in her hand, watching as Peter's sleepy face moved from one of confusion to one of complete and utter disappointment. "I can't get my hoodie off. So I'm going to cut it off."

He stepped forward a lot quicker than she could even think about stepping away, grabbing her wrist gently and pulling the scissors out of them, setting them on the counter. "Are you stupid?" He whispered, glancing down at her with his eyebrows furrowed. "Did lead sink into your brain?" The back of his hand pressed against her forehead, his cool skin feeling great against the thin layer of sweat still laying there. "Violet, you're warm. And sweaty. Gross."

"Yeah, that's why I wanted the hoodie off, genius. It's nothing. I just had a bad dream and was sleeping under a blanket in a hoodie. I'm fine." She shook her head to push his hand away, leaning against the counter to try and settle the pain in her side.

Peter stared down at her for a second before shaking his head, turning and walking out. Just as she thought he had gone back to bed and left her to suffer, he came back into the kitchen with the clothes he had set out draped over his shoulder. "C'mon, let's get upstairs so we don't wake them up," he mumbled, crouching down and slipping his arms beneath her legs and behind her back and picking her up again, just as effortlessly as he had the night before.