~Broken Family~

I Think He *Is* Secretly A Dog

Gwen had borrowed Harley's sweatshirt he wore before having to get changed into a hospital gown, which she felt was a huge improvement in their relationship. She'd always heard about the borrowing-clothes-thing.

The night was long.

The room was cold and the machines were bright and noisy, for one thing. Tony and Pepper used the pull-out couch while Gwen took the chair next to the bed, wanting to make sure Harley would be okay all night. Tony was hesitant to take the pull-out again, claiming he'd had his fair share of those after Harley's accident, but Gwen insisted.

The chair was kind of stiff, and it put her in an awkward position, which made her back start hurting. It made little creaking noises when she moved, so she tried not to.

And Harley would start shuddering in his sleep when the pain in his leg got to be too much, making little groans that didn't help anyone. She knew he couldn't control it, but still.

Most of the time he would call her name and for his mom, his sweaty head twisting back and forth on the pillow like he was having a bad dream. When he would wake himself up, which happened several times, he'd stare at the ceiling through a haze of pain, tears slipping down the sides of his head and a few moans escaping his lips, unaware Gwen was staring at him. She hadn't realized how much pain he'd been hiding.

Every time he drifted off again, it made her nervous. She was scared he wouldn't open his eyes again, so the steady beating of his heart monitor quickly became a comfort to her.

Several times, she reached over and stroked his French-braided head, just to make sure he was still alive. She couldn't help it---she didn't want to lose him, too.

Another part of her felt guilty. What if Peter could see her right now? What if she wasn't doing a good enough job taking care of the whole city? What if she wasn't keeping crime down enough?

She had hoped that those fears would go away eventually, but even after a year they still stewed in her mind, making her question whether she was really good enough or not.

***

In the morning, he looked at them all in envy as they ate breakfast bars, but Pepper promised he could have waffles the next day if he was feeling better.

"I don't wanna do it," he whispered. Gwen placed a hand on his shoulder, which he reached up and squeezed.

"It'll be over soon, Harley," Gwen consoled him. "Then we can go home and finish Star Wars. Just a few months off your feet and taking it easy, then you can go back to normal in no time."

"But I can't play baseball no more." His fingers trembled. "I probably won't get'a play ever again."

"Well, too bad," Gwen huffed. "You can't play baseball, that's that. That's the card you were dealt last year. You can't change what happened, but you can try to have a positive reaction to it."

Harley frowned. "I'm about to go into surgery, Gwen. That was kinda a bad pep talk."

"I'm just saying self-pity's not good for you."

"I got that."

When the nurse and doctor came in, the tension in the room jumped higher than Gwen could. The doctor gave him a smile and rubbed his hands together, giving him a pat on the back.

"There he is! You ready, kiddo?"

"I guess so."

"You'll be fine," the nurse consoled. "You're just going to take a little nap, there's nothing to be scared about."

Gwen knew they were trained to say these things to probably younger kids, but Harley looked like he appreciated it.

Tony gave one of the braids a tug. "We'll see you in a bit, Motorcycle."