⠀
⠀⠀— cook up some chili, gaze settling on him every other minute ... considerably less amused every time.
⠀⠀‘ ‘ 𝓖ive yourself ten minutes, Spider, then you can go on back to impressing me with how indestructible you 𝙖𝙧𝙚𝙣'𝙩 . ’ ’
⠀
⠀
⠀⠀𝓕rancine's eyes followed him as he started to rise.
⠀⠀‘ ‘ ... 𝓬𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘭𝘺. ’ ’
⠀⠀𝓢he turns back, firm hand immediately planting itself against his shoulder and pushing him right back onto the chair before he could get far. Not violently, but with —
⠀
"Ah. I'm flattered, really..."
A wince as the antiseptic brushed against an open wound. But beyond that Peter didn't move or pull away from Francine's touch, glancing st her while letting her do her work to help him...
It was kinda surreal to him.
⠀
⠀⠀— enough authority to make her suggestion of staying seated ... well ... not much of a suggestion.
⠀⠀‘ ‘ 𝓑roken rib, kid. Not only that, you're covered in bruises. Taking it isn't the same as being okay. ’ ’
⠀⠀𝓢he leaves towards her kitchen to —
⠀
⠀
⠀⠀— the fresh bandage around his torso, checking to make sure it wasn't too tight before standing back up to dispose of any one time items used for the patch up.
⠀⠀‘ ‘ 𝓞ne of these days, Spider, try making it home without looking like a hot mess. ’ ’
⠀
⠀
⠀⠀𝓕rancine's eyes lingered on the bruises longer than she had intended ... new ones, old ones, faded ones ... and some that hadn't healed at all.
⠀⠀𝓢he runs the antiseptic wipe across his cuts and main injury with practiced ease, mindful not to aggravate —
⠀
"Why would I do that, it's one of my best and/or only charms! Can't exactly rile people up with my...good looks..."
Despite his quips, he visibly tensed up once she peeled the fabric of his shirt.
⠀
⠀⠀— anything that could be broken beneath.
⠀⠀‘ ‘ 𝓖ood looks aren't your charm, kid. It's the fact that you keep getting the fuck up, no matter how hard the beating. ’ ’
⠀⠀𝓗er voice remained calm, focused on the work in front of her. She secured —
⠀
⠀
⠀⠀— steady hands. Weird from a woman that spent most her nights around firearms.
⠀⠀‘ ‘ ... 𝓪nd if this were my first time, you would've woken up in a morgue instead of my hideout.
⠀⠀𝓢o quit yapping and let me work. ’ ’
⠀
⠀
⠀⠀𝓢he didn't even bother looking up, opening up an antiseptic wipe before finally meeting his eyes.
⠀⠀‘ ‘ 𝓨ou're not. You're just the latest. Now hold still. ’ ’
⠀⠀𝓚neeling in front of him, carefully peeling back the fabric around his ribs with surprisingly —
⠀
"Which would explain the Judge Dredd Persona."
He watched Francine prep herself and let out a sigh. More so trying to relax himself for what he was sure was going to happen next.
"You know how to patch people up? Fran, please tell me I'm not your test run for that..."
⠀
⠀⠀— his comment, a corner of her lips twitched, vanishing as quick as it had happened.
⠀⠀𝓢he said nothing, but scoffed whilst putting on medical gloves to be able to tend to his wounds.
⠀
⠀
⠀⠀𝓣he woman answered with a long, unblinking stare.
⠀⠀‘ ‘ ... 𝓱ad one. ’ ’
⠀⠀𝓢he stepped past him, leaving to fetch a first aid kit before returning to set it on the nearby table. She unzips it open.
⠀⠀‘ ‘ 𝓣hen life happened. ’ ’
⠀⠀𝓐t hearing —
⠀
Peter glanced at her with an apprehensive look in his eye for a moment.
But it quickly subsided and he spun around to sit in the chair. After all, his senses weren't picking up any malice.
"Gonna be hard, these jokes tens to split sides...When you have a sense of humor."
⠀
⠀⠀𝓕rancine let the silence take over for a moment before shaking her head. With a sigh, she stands and crossed the the room, stopping just close enough to study the damage that had been done.
⠀⠀‘ ‘ 𝓝ext time you crack a joke, try not to break another —
⠀
"Yeah. Yeah I noticed that..."
Peter held his side as he limped closer to her. Taking in his surroundings through his dazed eyes, still trying to regain his higher senses in the moment.
⠀
⠀⠀— supposed to be in bed, resting. ’ ’
⠀⠀𝓢he set her weapon down with a metallic * 𝒄𝒍𝒊𝒄𝒌 * before leaning back into her chair.
⠀⠀‘ ‘ 𝓣ombstone fucked you up. ’ ’
⠀
⠀
⠀⠀𝓢𝘢𝘧𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘚𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 continued to play softly as Francine looked up from the weapon she was working on. Her grey eyes lingered on him for a moment, taking in the bruises, his unsteady stance ... and the fact he was standing at all.
⠀⠀‘ ‘ 𝓨ou're —
⠀
A wince and groan from the other room, followed by rustling of covers and soon footsteps echoing through the hideout after hours healing from the beating Tombstone put on him earlier.
Until it stopped right at the sight of the Veteran, and Peter stared in confusion.
"F-Fran?.."
⠀
⠀⠀𝓢𝘢𝘧𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘚𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 played softly from an old speaker tucked away somewhere in her hideout, Francine allowing herself to simply exist for a few moments while assembling a pistol piece by piece.
⠀⠀𝓣he clicks of metal echoed throughout her small home.
⠀