"You wanted a bad guy? Fine, I'll be the bad guy."
Continuing on her vigilante career, Charlie's had a decent two years, that it until it gets interrupted by evil titans, old mentors, theatrical lairs, and her growing feelings for her now-friend Pet...
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Bloody fingers uncurling from Peter's shirt, I winced as I sat on the orange leather seats of the jet. A noise of pain was trapped in my throat, and Peter knelt down to see the stained bandages and the dried red trail that had dripped down to my thighs. Everything hurt.
His eyebrows knit together. "What happened?"
"Extreme game of tag, the knife won." Peter was not amused at my joke. I peeled off the bandage and saw the crust of dried blood. "Bleeding's stopped, needs stitches though." His eyes flashed with worry and I clutched my ribs.
"I'll grab the kit." Peter sped off to the bathroom.
"Got Ibuprofen?" I called out, holding my ribs. "Check the back cabinet, there used to—"
"Found it." He threw me the bottle then set the kit on the table across the aisle from me as Happy came in through the jet's door.
"Most of your DNA evidence has been cleaned off." Happy announced removing two latex gloves and tossing them in the bin. As usual, he wore a black suit and tie that made him still look like he was a chauffeur. "But that broken window's gonna be a shocked for the owners."
"Wait till they see what I did to their security cameras." I took about four painkillers and sipped one of the water bottles I stole to take them down.
"She needs stitches." Peter looked to Happy for help.
"Got it." Happy took a step forward and I pushed myself back in my seat. My eyes flickered to Peter and the hum of the jet was getting loud. The older man squinted at the wound, lightly moving the suit which earned a hiss from me. "I can't see with the suit."
Instantly, my hand covered the wound and Peter blurted. "I'll do it."
"Peter, with all due respect it's a little more than just patching up a hole." Happy raised his eyebrows, then caught my gaze and pressed his lips together. "Alright, fine. I'll move us out of the road. I'll be in the front."
I nodded and Peter waited for him to leave and close the cabin doors to approach me. Eyes on the carpet floors, I sat up and faced the window. The Jet shifted lightly as we took off and I stared at the green trees outside.
With soft hands, he pulled down the zipper and I kept my face passive. His breath hitched.
Gently, his fingers ran over my shoulder blade and I winced as he hit the bruise I got during the roll out of the truck. Quickly, he pulled his hand away. Exhaling through my nose, my eyes turned warm as I slowly pulled down the front of the suit. It tugged slightly on the dried blood and the sting still didn't take my attention off the feeling of someone's gaze on my bare flesh.
"Admiring the view?" Discomfort and shame swelled in my throat, as his eyes ran over my skin. Big purple splotches covered my chest and back, a giant band of red wrapped around my arm as my newest decorations. I leaned back into the seat, at first avoiding his gaze, then inspecting his expression as he shifted from frozen to tracing over everything silently. Slowly, his eyes became shinier, then his jaw clenched. With a damp cloth, he wiped over the blood and I sharply inhaled. Adjusting his pressure he continued, silently, then started the stitches part. As the needle punctured my skin, I squeezed the armrest. "Fuck."
