Malls have shit security.
That's what I thought when I woke up this morning.
The pigeon that hung out with me had decided to start fucking attacking my pizza, so I picked it up and placed it outside my tent. Then he came back, so I picked him up and put him outside my tent again. And then that bitch came back, so I gave him a slice of pepperoni for the dedication.
I woke up just before sunrise, so I dragged myself up to the edge of the building to watch the sunrise. The sky was a light purple, fading to pink, then orange, then yellow, then the bright orange ball of light some people like to call the sun.
I don't know what else you would call the sun though. God, maybe.
I laid in bed after, running back under shelter once the sun peeked over the buildings. I couldn't have anyone spot me.
I read They both die in the end. I cried. They did both die, at the end of the book, just as the title claimed.
I read almost all of the books I'd stolen that day. I knew I'd be reading them many more times, so I just scanned through most of them. It was falling to dusk, so I poked my head out of the shelter to watch the sun set in the west.
I couldn't read once it was dark, so I got up and walked to the side of the roof, sitting on the edge. It was risky, but I was beginning to get much more comfortable with going out at night.
Instead of sneaking in to shower that night, I decided to fly around. Check up on everything. See if anything needed to be done. I wasn't tired yet.
I didn't even stand, I just dropped forwards off the roof, plummeting to the street before I opened my wings.
I lifted off the ground right away, flying above the street in a direction I didn't know.
I flapped my wings a few times, climbing high to reach the rooftops. I had a strange feeling like I'd been there before. The city rooftops all look the same, but then I noticed a certain someone's school in the distance.
Well, not a school, but a large gap in the cramped buildings, which I recognized from earlier flights.
I went to turn around, flying sideways to turn, before hearing something.
In the distance, there was a series of gunshots and a pained shout. It came from my left.
I immediately stopped turning, shifting ever so slightly to see between the buildings.
"Hey!" A man's voice shouted, not too far in the distance. Another shot went off. "Stop it!"
"Help!" Another voice, this one more familiar.
"Oh shut up!"
I searched between the buildings for a sign of the shouts.
Another gunshot.
Another shout, this time one in pain.
A raspy, "Help!"
A thud.
Everything was getting louder.
Footsteps on the concrete.
No more shots.
"Someone-" A boy groaned.
I found him.
I landed on top of a roof, overlooking a dark alley. A light glow was emitted from the stripes on his suit, and his mask was pulled up to reveal his mouth.
I dropped into the alley, reaching for a metal bar for protection.
I knew who it was.
"Max?" He said, panting on the ground.
Spiderwebs coated the alley, stringing off the walls and dumpsters. One caught on my right wing, and I just left it instead of trying to flick it away.
I didn't say anything, just stared.
"You're alive!" He struggled to sit up, trying to crawl to his feet. "Max!"
He crawled to his feet, leaning against the wall for support. "Max, I need your help-"
Peter tried to step towards me, but stumbled, and fell into my arms.
"..."
His chest and stomach were doused in blood, along with a patch on his thigh and his shoulder.
"Max!" He exclaimed. "I need your help to get that guy-" He panted, wincing as he shifted his body in my arms. "Max, I can't believe you're alive!"
I stared at him. I pulled his mask off his head.
His face was sweaty. His eyes were glazed over. His face was bright white.
"Max, come on, we gotta get that guy!" Peter struggled against my grip.
"You're shot," I said.
"No, I'm fine, we gotta go get that guy!" He protested, struggling against my arms. "Max, come on, let me go!"
He was sweating through his suit. I could feel the cold clamminess of his hands around my arms, trying to force himself through.
He wasn't trying very hard.
He wasn't trying hard at all.
And suddenly he went limp.
"Max?" He groaned. "We gotta get that guy..."
"No," I said.
I patted his pockets, searching for his phone.
I found it.
Emergency dial.
"Hello? Peter?" Stark answered immediately.
"Get off my phone," Peter mumbled in my arms.
"Can you track location?" I asked.
"Max?" He asked. "Max, where are you?"
"Can you track location," I asked again.
"No, what are you doing?" He shouted. "We've been looking for you for-"
"Peter's shot," I spoke. He shut up quick. "Hurry."
"Oh my god." He muttered. "Stay where you are, stay with him!"
I nodded, though there would be no way to tell from his end.
Stark hung up.
"Max, what's going on?" Peter asked. His eyes were teary, the water already leaking down the sides of his face.
"Peter," I mumbled, dropping to my knees. "it's okay. it's okay, everything fine."
"My chest hurts." He complained. "Call Harley."
I shook my head, stumbling with his phone. I opened it, using his face to unlock it. I opened his texts, Harley, right on top.
One dial.
Two-
"Hey what's up?" His voice was cheery.
"I love you," Peter muttered.
"What?" Harley exclaimed. "Peter, this is a telephone call. You can not just-"
"I found Max." He continued.
"Max?" Harley asked. "You found Max?"
"Harley, Peter's been shot," I said into the phone.
"What?!" The was a loud thud in his room. "Okay, okay. Where are you? I'm coming!"
"I don't know," I replied, hearing the dial tone beep at me when Harley hung up.
I dragged Peter up the fire escape. He mumbled nonsense the whole way. This was moving too fast, and too slow all at the same time.
"Hey, Max." Peter groaned as I pulled him over the side of the roof.
"What?" I breathed.
"Tell Harley I love him." He blinked slowly. His eyes slowly shut, each blink getting heavier and heavier.