String Theory

Chapter 5

Eggsy steps out, gun already raised.

"Put your fuckin' hands up," he snaps. "Step away from him, or I'll blow your fuckin' brains out. Now!"

018 lifts his hands slowly, glowering, but doesn't release the leash, and doesn't step away. Peter's vision is blurry, focusing in and out on the boy with the gun. 018's movement forces Peter to raise his head a little and gasp in pain. Ginger's out of the car now, circling around the hood to stand by Eggsy's side. She's got a gun, too.

"I said step away. " Eggsy's voice is threatening, and his eyes dart down to Peter for a moment. By now, blood is seeping from under the collar's edges, trickling down Peter's neck. He's wavering on his knees, struggling to keep conscious. A sudden surge of anger rushes through Eggsy, and he doesn't give 018 the opportunity to respond. He fires, and 018's shoulder jerks backwards with the momentum of the bullet. Blood sprays, and pain flashes across his face. He drops the leash, and Peter, no longer held upright, collapses.

By now, the purr of another engine down the road can be heard again. 018, injured and without backup, turns and yanks the door of his car open. Eggsy empties his clip into the car's rear windshield, but the engine roars to life, and 018 tears away down the back road. Eggsy starts to circle to the driver's side to go after him, but Ginger's already moving to Peter's side.

"Let him go, Eggsy," she orders. She kneels in the mud, and cradles Peter's head gently.

Eggsy protests immediately, raising a hand. "He's getting away! That could be a bloody decent lead, Ginger-"

"Let him go. " She cuts him off sternly, and glances up at him. "He's not breathing. Tony's more important than some Orthus goon, and I need your help with the collar."

Eggsy breathes a curse and slogs through the rain to join Ginger, dropping to his knees. He pries at the collar's clasp for a moment. When it releases, Peter doesn't respond, but blood stains Eggsy's fingers. He's limp in Ginger's grip, rain trickling down his face in rivulets. Eggsy glances up at her, concerned. "I took it off. Why's he not breathing?"

Ginger doesn't answer the question, but points. "CPR. Now."

Eggsy doesn't waste any time. He laces his fingers and gives Peter's chest a few hefty thrusts with his palms, while Ginger supports his head and pinches his nose shut. By this time, Bucky speeds around the corner in his Audi, skidding to a halt next to the rental car. He's out in seconds, trotting to join Eggsy and Ginger. His heart palpitates at the sight of Peter, limp and bloody in the rain.

"What the hell happened?" he asks. Eggsy doesn't respond, but tips forward to press his mouth to Peter's and breathe for him. Peter's lungs fill with air, but he doesn't inhale, so Eggsy mutters a curse and goes back to pumping Peter's chest.

Ginger looks up at Bucky, hair matted from the rain, worry written across her features. "He was attacked. By someone from Orthus, we think—"

The conversation is muffled to Eggsy, who leans in to do mouth to mouth again. One hand rests at Peter's neck to keep him steady. Eggsy can't help the hopelessness that's clawing at him as Peter's chest rises, but he doesn't breathe on his own. He breaks for a second to suck in a breath of his own, hissing out, "Come on, Stark." Peter's pale. His lips are cold and spotted with raindrops, and Eggsy tries one more time, lips locked to Peter's, desperately trying to fill his lungs with his own life.

Peter gasps for air.

Eggsy jerks away, giving him room, and relief undoes the knot of anxiety in his gut. A smile spreads across his face, and he gives a breathless laugh. Bucky deflates, too, and Ginger murmurs a prayer of thanks and combs a gentle hand through Peter's wet hair as he heaves, coughing and inhaling burning lungfuls of air. Bucky works to undo the restraints on Peter's hands. His eyes flutter open, glancing weakly between the three that are gathered around him.

"He'll be fine," Ginger says reassuringly, giving Bucky a little smile. "He has a few cuts, but nothing that can't be patched up."

Bucky nods numbly. The cuts are shallow, but Peter looks like hell, and Bucky can't help but feel strangled with guilt that he wasn't there to protect the kid. Ginger hands Peter over to Eggsy, who shifts to support his head while Ginger goes back to the car. Peter's staring up at Eggsy, transfixed. Eggsy's holding him very carefully, like he might break if he jostles him too much.

"You're a damn handful, you know that?" he chides softly. "You've given all of us a heart attack apiece, the last three days alone."

Peter's too dazed to respond verbally, but he closes his eyes and gives a weak giggle. Bucky relaxes a little. That's a good sign. If he can laugh, he'll make it just fine. By now, Ginger's returned with an emergency kit. "Have him breathe this," she says, handing an oxygen booster to Bucky, who drops to sitting next to Peter's head, and positions the mask over his mouth.

"Deep breath, champ," Bucky says, and Peter nods a little bit. He breathes in time to Bucky's counting, while Ginger cleans the blood off his neck and sterilizes it with peroxide. The oxygen numbs the pain, and helps his lungs stop burning. When Ginger cleans most of the blood off, Peter's neck is already starting to bruise, splotching purple and yellow in some spots. Peter's half-conscious gaze shifts between the three of them, but mostly, it rests on Eggsy. He hadn't expected Galahad to look like that, and studying his face makes the peroxide hurt less. He's never met anybody with grey eyes before. They match the rainclouds.

It takes less than four minutes for his wherewithal to return. By that time, all four of them are thoroughly soaked, and Ginger's bandaged the cuts on his neck. They help him to his feet, and Peter clings to Bucky's arm until he gets his balance. When they get inside, Eggsy goes back to the car to get their bags, while Ginger and Bucky have Peter sit at the kitchen bar. Bucky gets him a towel and gently pats him dry while Ginger starts to clean the cut on his hand.

Bucky's watching him carefully as he towels his hair off. "What the hell happened, Tony?"

"He attacked me," Peter replies hoarsely. "He — oh-eighteen, I guess? That was his tattoo. I got out of the shower, and I heard him come in. He went through my phone, and when I tried to get down to the lab, he saw me and came after me, and —ow! "

Ginger murmurs an apology and keeps cleaning the cut. By now, Eggsy's back, and drops their bags at the door. Now that Peter's sitting up, he can get a better look at Eggsy. He's clearly been traveling - the jeans and Adidas jacket mirror Peter's own casual hoodie and jeans look, but the clean shoes and the flat-brimmed hat give him a more polished feel. Although his eyes were the first thing to catch Peter's attention, he now finds himself staring at Eggsy's lips, cherry-pink and slightly agape as he catches his breath. The damp street clothes keep Eggsy's form from being noticable, but his posture and the ease with which he carried the two bags in lead Peter to believe he's stronger than he looks. Eggsy blinks over at Bucky, and now Peter notices his lashes, which compliment his steel-colored eyes and and offset his otherwise sharp features.

"...even listening to me, kid?" Bucky's voice fades back in, and heat rushes to Peter's cheeks as he realizes he'd been zoned out on Eggsy.

"Uh," Peter says, blinking at Bucky, trying to recover. "No. No, I wasn't listening, I'm sorry, can you—? Say it again?"

"I said you're lucky to be alive," Bucky repeats, hands settled on his hips, expression grim. "If it hadn't been for them, you'd be dead."

Peter swallows hard, letting that sink in. His hands are trembling a little. He's cold, and his neck hurts, and Bucky's right. If Galahad hadn't shown up when he did, who knows where he'd be by now. Dead, or worse.

"But you're alive," Eggsy interjects, cutting off that train of thought. He smiles at Peter. "Galahad, by the way, but you can call me Eggsy."

"Eggsy," Peter echoes, testing the word in his mouth. It sounds good. He wants to thank them, but Ginger interrupts before he can form the words.

"You're all fixed up," she says, smiling. "I'll change the bandages for you tomorrow." Peter nods a thank you, and turns his arm over to inspect the bandage.

Bucky drops a newspaper on the counter in front of Peter, lips pressed into a thin line. "We have work to do. This was a rejected headline from the Daily Bugle, and I managed to grab this one from Jameson before it got shredded. Orthus didn't want this stuff printed."

When Peter scans the title of the newspaper, his eyes go wide, and his heart skips a beat.

SOLAR FLARE A HOAX? MEMORY LOSS MAY BE MEMORY THEFT!