One of the things that comes with being in the position of a hero, thought and processing happen at the speed of light. Reactions are fast, almost as if they were instinct based, not taught. Everything just happens. There's no thought being put into what had just happened to cause the act of heroism. The body moves and the brain just functions, controlling and not allowing the person to panic, feel pain, just beat whatever force they're supposed to be some type of hero against. For some, it is training, like Shiloh and for others, it's instinct, like Peter. But for the both them, thought, processing, and reaction happen at the same time.

The shot rings, bouncing off wet pavement and the standing building at the edge of the parking lot. It catches the two men on Shiloh's sides by surprise and their grip loosens just enough for Shiloh to twist out of their grip, going to her wrist for the watch gauntlet in a fluid motion while Peter is shooting a web at the man with a gun.

Seconds are minutes as Shiloh kicks and punches the two men who held her while the gun is yanked away from the shooter. The second the gun if out of the picture, Peter is moving forward, moving forward and shooting two web grenades at the men that held Shiloh, both of them being slammed into the wall and getting stuck to it. All this while Shiloh shoots the man who held the gun to her head and Peter shoots a web right after the impact of the gauntlet hits him, webbing him to the wall as well.

It all happened at the same time, Shiloh and Peter not needing to even look at the other to know who would do what or who would go for who. It just happens. It's all like an instinct to them. It's been a year since they've worked together and it's like nothing has changed. They still work in sync, falling into old patterns but that doesn't change what just took place.

Act first, process the full situation later. It's been thirty seconds, three men are webbed to the wall, and it's later.

She bends down and starts grabbing her wet clothes, shoving them back in her bag while Peter, now less than a foot away, hands her her wallet. All she can do is look at him before snatching it back and shoving it into her bag. She's somewhere between wanting to rip off his webshooters and use a web grenade on him and make him stick to a building until the fluid dissolves and wanting to make sure he's okay.

She didn't actually see if he were shot or not. It's something Nat taught her on the off chance she was ever in this situation. Don't look, focus and wait for the way to get out. She didn't watch and she was able to escape at the right time. So, for all Shiloh knows, Peter's been shot but he was going to leave her to three strange men in the middle of the vacant parking lot at night.

"Are you out of your mind!?" Shiloh stands, eyes wide in disbelief as she tilts her head to the side and shifts her weight to her left foot, voice loud and bellowing. "Are you fucking serious?"

Pissed off it is.

"You're welcome." Peter mutters and turns away from her, towards the direction of his apartment and he starts limping, pain starting to become more evident on the right side of his body.

Oh, this is bad.

"Uh, nu-uh." Shiloh jogs beside him, shrugging her backpack onto her shoulders. "You were gonna fucking leave me? Are you fucking insane?" Shiloh screams at him, her easily keeping up with Peter thanks to the limp that seems to be getting worse.

"I didn't." Peter says, his head straight and he wants her to shut up.

"But you were going to!" Shiloh screams and there's a break in her voice.

There's fire burning through Peter's veins as he grows more annoyed. She really believes he would have left her and not hung out to make sure they weren't going to do anything worse to her? He's not a hero anymore but he wouldn't let someone, anyone, do more than what they did already.

Peter whips around to face her, his eyes widening as dizziness punches him in the face and pain shoots through his side. "I didn't leave you, Shiloh! Okay? I-I-I turned around." Peter swallows thickly and his hand goes to his side as he starts limping away, warm liquid starting to cover his fingers with every step.

Definitely, not good.

Shiloh watches him, eyes squinted and that's when she sees it. "Peter!" She yells after him, grabbing his arm and pulling it away from his side. "You were shot, you idiot!" Shiloh bends down just enough to get a look at the wound, not having any luck with the blood and surrounding fabric.

Peter looks down to his blood-soaked hand. "Uh, yeah..." Peter's voice is tired as he looks to her.

Truthfully, he didn't realize that he was shot, he thought that the bullet grazed him until Shiloh actually moved his hand and starting looking at the hole through his suit and torso.

"You need a doc-" Shiloh starts but is immediately cut off by Peter.

"NO!" Peter yells at her, eyes of the mask as wide as they could go.

"Peter!"

"No!"

Absolutely not. Under no circumstances was Peter going to go to a doctor even though he knows full and well he does need one. He doesn't know how he's going to solve his getting shot issue without a doctor but if there's a will, there's a way. He can make a few calls.

"You're just gonna walk around with a bullet in you?" The fury Shiloh felt towards the web-slinger melts into panic.

"It's not my first gunshot." Peter mutters with the shrug of his shoulders.

The words weigh heavy and Shiloh knows, oh does Shiloh know because she was there the last time he got shot. She remembers how much blood there was and no matter how many times she has to bear witness to people bleeding, the concept of how much blood the human body actually contains still freaks her out. And the experiences that always go with seeing the blood leave fiberglass wounds in her heart and memories, always painful and haunting.

"You can't let it just sit in your system! What if it hit something important?" Shiloh is aware that Peter's healing factor can and should take care of most of it, as he said, it's not his first gunshot but that doesn't stop her from thinking the worst.

"'M not going to a doctor and I'm not going to the tower." Peter says, looking to the wound that's completely soaked the right side of his suit.

"You have to do something." Rising panic echoes through Shiloh's voice and it vibrates Peter's bones.

He doesn't want to die tonight, that was never his plan. But he's not going to the tower and he's not going to some random doctor. He could make those calls but those calls could lead him to a dead end. That leaves Shiloh. And he has more faith in her than he does in anyone.

"You do it." Peter says and Shiloh blinks once shaking her head and sticking her neck out, waiting for Peter to repeat himself or elaborate or anything that says anything besides that what she thinks he means. "T-take the bullet out."

Shiloh narrows her eyes, the side of her lip up in confusion before she flicks Peter's forehead through the mask, earning a hiss from him. "Do I look like a fucking doctor to you, Parker?"

"Well, uh, I'm not going to a doctor or the tower." Peter says and he's already tired of the debate. He's in pain, he's bleeding out, with every step, it gets harder to walk. He doesn't have time to debate this.

"How much blood have you lost?" Shiloh asks.

Peter shrugs and he can tell he's not quite in the danger zone, and possibly a decent way away based on his prior experience with his leg. He was trapped there for maybe an hour. Sure, the side of his suit is soaked and the pain is becoming obnoxious with every step he makes but he knows he hasn't lost too much blood.

"Um, not as much as you think...probably." Peter answers, plainly.

Shiloh looks towards where Peter's building is located versus the tower that's still about a twenty-minute walk away. She can't believe she's really thinking about this. No amount of training has prepared her to remove a bullet from someone who she called her best friend. But he won't see a doctor. He's not going to come with. He did take a bullet for her, this bullet is because of her. If something goes south, she can knock him and call for help.

"We'll fly, we'll be there in thirty seconds." Shiloh lets out a sigh, pressing her necklace and allowing the suit to coat her body.

Shiloh grabs Peter and the two fly off to Peter's apartment which, under any other circumstances, Shiloh would have muttered something about how absolutely ridiculous they probably looked. Someone in armor carrying an almost limp Spider-Man in the middle of the night. Yeah, that's normal. Totally normal.

They reach Peter's apartment and Shiloh opts for the fire escape, already knowing that's going to be the easiest and quickest route into Peter's apartment. By then, she's having to help him to the couch, his arm slung over her and most of his weight is on her, him barely able to put pressure on the metal leg. Peter's wincing with every movement, pain radiating through his body and his head is going a little foggy from blood loss and pain. There's only a split second that he wishes he were in a hospital, just a split second.

"Uh..." Peter breathes as he's laid on his back on the couch. "Supplies, bathroom behind the mirror 'nd lower cabinet. Tongs in there, too."

Shiloh nods quickly and goes off to the bathroom to grab the supplies. Peter finally takes off his mask and he's coming to the realization that this will be the first time Shiloh has seen his face in a year.

He never takes the mask off around her, ever and now suddenly he is and he looks like this. A shell of who he was, almost a ghost. She'll give him that look. The one that says she wants to protect him from everything and she will if he'll let her. It's the look she always gives him when he's hurt and the same look Peter has been avoiding because it'll make him cave. But, what's he supposed to? Keep a mask on while she takes a bullet out of his side? If he wants her to do this, she needs to see him. It's different looking at a face rather than a mask or a helmet. And he needs her, not as Spider-Man but as Peter. It just makes Peter feel like he's being stabbed in the heart a few hundred times.

Peter's hand presses to the wound and he looks to the ceiling, almost silently apologizing to May, MJ, and Ben for all of this. And he's questioning why he's like this, why his life is like this, if this is going to be it for him. It all just hurts and the blood is seeping through the couch cushions he'll never be able to get clean. And he just wants it all to stop.

"Okay," Shiloh says in a quick breath, coming back with her arms full of the supplies Peter said. "I got everything." She kneels down on the floor to the side of him and for the first time, she sees his face.

Peter only glances at her, just long enough to see Shiloh's face soften and contort into the look he knew he'd get. It's like she's hit by a bus. His face is covered in cuts and bruises, his cheeks hollow and the color of his face is almost ghost white. The bags under her eyes are so dark they almost match the bruises. And there's red surrounding the cuts that all look like they've been on his face awhile and most of the bruises don't even show hints of healing. He's completely decorated in injuries and Shiloh didn't have a clue.

"Pete-"

"Don't." Peter says, his eyes on the ceiling. "Please."

Shiloh nods and bites the inside of her cheek. "Okay, um...your suit."

Peter presses the button on his chest and Shiloh helps him lean up. He groans out in pain as Shiloh pulls at the arms of the suit, helping get the fabric off of his torso and away from the bullet hole. Tears prick his eyes as he leans back and he needs it all to be over but it hasn't even started yet.

He can feel Shiloh's eyes looking over his torso, not just the blood from the wound. He knows she's looking at the scars he has from all of the fights against villains and all the gashes and cuts and bruises he's gotten from his recent activity, none of which look to be healing.

"Peter, are you-"

"It-it hurts." Peter mutters, cutting her off and moving his eyes to her, keeping his head still.

Shiloh looks to the wound and pushes away the sight of Peter's bruised and beaten body, pushing the lump down her throat with every breath. There's so much blood, blood spilling out every time Peter exhales. Truthfully, she doesn't think she can do it. She went to school for engineering not surgery or anything in the medical profession. Sure, she's cleaned her own wounds and Peter's, stitched them both up plenty of times but this? This is a little different. She needs to dig a bullet out of Peter's abdomen and then stop the bleeding.

"Y-you can do it." Peter mutters, hearing Shiloh's breathing grow shallow and panicked, her heart racing in her chest.

"Yeah, yeah. I know." Shiloh says, her voice unconvincing. "Do you wanna take anything?" She asks and immediately Peter looks to her, glaring before shaking his head and looking back to the ceiling. "It's gonna hurt even more when I start digging around in there."

"It's okay." Peter says quietly, avoiding every urge he has to scream about grabbing him anything that can knock him out.

"I-"

"Shiloh," Peter looks to her. "I-I'm sorry." Peter's eyes go teary and it takes everything in him not to start crying as he looks to her, bruising already forming on both sides of her face.

That voice. It has haunted her in nightmares and dreams, over and over and over for years. Those words, that tone. The pure heartbreak and regret and guilt that just fills his voice is enough to completely break Shiloh. He's only ever been this broken with this voice two other times. When he got to the hospital and was on his deathbed after the building collapsed and when he was going to space, just before he fell from the ship and lost communication. This is the voice Peter goes into when he swears he's going to die. And Shiloh will be damned if Peter dies.

I cannot lose you, too.

"Okay," Shiloh sucks in a breath and he is not gonna die tonight. "Try not to move." Shiloh pulls out the disinfectant and works on cleaning the tongs and then moving to wipe as much blood from Peter as possible before she cleans around the wound.

Peter screams, moving his arm to his mouth to conceal what he could. Shiloh winces and she tries to go as fast as possible, blood starting to soak her hands and it's getting on her clothes. There's just so much blood.

She reaches for her backpack gives it to Peter. "Find the glasses case. I'm gonna use Marty to find the bullet and give me some direction but if this goes south, I'm calling someone."

Peter removes his arm, the limb shaking as he reaches for her bag. "N-n-not...not Strange."

"Of course not." Shiloh scoffs. "Banner. I'll call Banner." Shiloh reassures him, the both of them still a little bitter with Doctor Strange after the war against Thanos.

"Promise?" Peter asks, handing Shiloh her glasses and putting the case back in the bag and the bag back on the floor.

"I promise." Shiloh says, the glasses lighting up for her see blue stats across the lenses. "Marty, can you locate the bullet in Peter and guide me through all of this?"

"Are you sure, Miss? Should I call-"

"No," Shiloh mutters. "Just tell me what to do."

Shiloh swallows thickly, glancing to Peter and Marty starts telling Shiloh what to do and where the bullet it is. It seems Peter is right, it hasn't hit anything vital but Shiloh does need to get the bullet out relatively soon and stop the bleeding. So, she reaches for the tongs and warns Peter once more that it's going to hurt and she makes the move, sticking the metal into the hole.

Blood squirts out and Peter screams at the top of his lungs, jerking away from her but Shiloh just sits up, pushing on his chest to try and keep him still and her sight on his abdomen where Marty has the bullet highlighted. But, with every move of the tongs, Peter squirms and his screams turn into full-blown wails, tears streaming down his face as he squirms. And blood just pours out of the hole with every movement.

Shiloh's hands start to shake as she tries to keep moving, her own tears starting to blur what she's doing. She can't concentrate with Peter crying and squirming from the pain. All she can do is hope he'll pass out but if hasn't now, he probably won't. But he needs to stop screaming, he needs to stop crying, he needs to stop moving. He needs to stop, the panic completely overwhelming Shiloh.

"Peter!" Shiloh pulls the tongs out of him and places the tongs on his chest, her hands putting pressure on the hole as she looks to him. "You need to stop moving! I can't do this with you moving and screaming!"

"It hurts!" Peter yells, Shiloh feeling a gush of blood hit her hand.

"I told you to take something!"

"Just hurry up!"

"I'm trying but you need to sit still! And stop screaming!"

"Just get it out!"

"I'm trying! But you keep moving!"

"You're horrible at this!"

"I'm sorry! I don't take bullets out of people every day for a fucking living!" Sarcasm drips through Shiloh's words.

"Maybe you should start!" Peter screams back and it's all just him in pain and being frustrated but that doesn't mean it doesn't piss Shiloh off.

"Okay! Cool! I will!" Shiloh raises her voice with mock excitement mixed with sarcasm. "Do I look like I have a Ph.D. to you? Lemme go back to the tower and I'll borrow one of Banner's seven!"

"Just make it stop!" Peter screams and this time, it comes out more as a wail.

Shiloh lets herself close her eyes just for a second.

Breathe.

"Okay, two options:" Shiloh sucks in a breath. "You either tell me where your drugs are and I give 'em to you myself to knock you out or I punch you and knock you out."

Shiloh hates both options. Either contribute to Peter's drug addiction or punch him so hard she has to in order to knock him unconscious. Both of them are going to cause her horrendous guilt but as she looks down to the bloody couch and her blood-soaked hands and jeans, she already knows this is just another event that'll cause nightmares so might as well go big.

Peter sucks in a breath and lays his head back on the arm of the couch and Shiloh's heart sinks, assuming he's about to tell her where he puts his drugs. "Hit me."

Shiloh's eyes widen and the sinking feeling just keeps going like it's just been pushed off the side of Mount Everest. "You really want me to punch you?"

"Please." Peter looks at her and pleads, his eyes red and puffy. The cuts and bruises seem pop out now, probably from Peter losing the rest of the coloring in his face from the pain and the blood loss. So, she's not going to question it.

Shiloh pulls her fist back and punches Peter as hard as she can, her fist immediately tingling and a blood print covers the side of Peter's face. But, luckily, it's enough to knock him out. She never expected she would ever feel like she would need to thank Nat in times like these for her training, but apparently, she does. But, that's for later. Now, she has to work on getting a bullet out of Peter and stopping the bleeding. A promise is a promise.

"Okay, Marty, bring up the bullet again." Shiloh says, pushing the quiver of her voice down as she focuses on Peter's bloody abdomen, the bullet highlighted through her glasses.

Shiloh is able to follow Marty's instruction on where the bullet is lodged and she's able to grab it within a few minutes using the tongs. The bullet is placed on the coffee table behind her and now she has to manage to stop the bleeding. The question is how? Taking the bullet out almost seems easy compared to this. But, nonetheless, she follows Marty's instruction to stitch inside the wound as best as she can. This is one of those times where she's glad she actually knows how to apply stitches to other people, not just herself. It's just a bit more difficult given what the wound is. But, the stitches and taking out the bullet aren't the worst part.

"Boss, you need to cauterize the wound." Marty says.

"I'm sorry, you want me to what?" Shiloh looks at the wound and sees more blood still leaking from it with every breath Peter takes. It's slowed down a lot since she applied the few stitches but it's not stopping.

"The bleeding is not stopping." Marty says. "If you cauterize his wound, the bleeding will stop."

"Yeah, I got that but...isn't there something else I can do?" Shiloh asks.

"I'm sorry, no."

Shiloh feels the tears building again and she has to burn Peter. She doesn't want to inflict any more pain onto him but now she has to. It's the only way to stop the bleeding unless he starts going south and according to Marty, he's not. So, she needs to burn the wound to seal it.

"Okay." Shiloh mumbles before she reaches around the watch gauntlet, pulling it over her hand.

She sucks in a breath and grabs the bloody tongs from the table. She moves them away from Peter and only uses the gauntlet to heat up the end of the tongs and then she moves to face Peter, pressing the metal to the open wound. The sizzling of burning flesh and scent make Shiloh close her eyes, grimacing as she buries her head into her shoulder until the sound stops.

She pulls the tongs away to see a burnt wound but no more blood spilling from it. "Is it okay?" Shiloh asks, her voice wavering and broken like a thin layer of ice.

"Yes, miss. You've stopped the bleeding."

"Okay." Shiloh lets out a breath but her voice is completely deflated. "Bandage and clean."

"Yes." Marty responds.

Shiloh takes the glasses off, not caring that there's wet blood still covering her hands. She just looks down and grabs the gauze and medical tape, bandaging the wound as best as she can, knowing it won't have to be on long thanks to Peter's healing factor. The lump in her throat grows with every passing second and it gets harder to see as tears cloud her vision. She tries to wipe the tears with her shoulder just barely managing while she bites off the last line of medical tape and attaches it to the gauze and Peter.

Once she's done, Shiloh finally gets up from the floor, her legs shaking as she makes her way to the bathroom. She shuts the door with her foot and goes to the sink. Her hands shake violently as she stares at them. Peter's blood over every inch of her hands even under her short fingernails.

There's blood around the gauntlet and her hair ties on the opposite wrist. Blood on her forearms and going towards her elbows which she can't even figure out how that happened. When she looks in the mirror, she finds blood on her cheek and on the sides of her face, just brushing the scars, form removing the glasses. The front of her shirt is soaked in blood and so are her jeans. There's blood everywhere. And the panic starts.

The human body contains about five liters of blood. That's not a lot of blood in thinking of pop or milk or water. But in the aspect of blood, blood of a person, that's a lot of blood. There's so much. So much blood. Why does there need to be so much of it? Get it off. Get it off. Get it OFF.

Shiloh cries feverishly, running the sink and scrubbing as much of Peter's blood from her hands as she can. She scrubs her hands and forearms as much as she can, wanting to rip her skin right off. Her vision is fully blurred while tears cascade down her face, dripping and mixing into the bloodied sink water.

Quiet cries turn into sobs as Shiloh sees the color of her skin through the blurred mess. Those men attacked her. Peter almost left her with those men to do whatever they wanted with her. Peter took a bullet for her. She took out the bullet and burned the wound. It's all bubbling too far to the surface and what if Peter had died? What if he still dies? That's on her. It's all on her. Everyone, everything.

Maybe Peter's been right all along and maybe everyone dying has been her fault. Maybe everyone getting hurt has been her fault. She has been there for everything besides Peter losing his leg. Everything else, she was there for or arrived just after. Maybe it is all her fault. Everything.

The haunting thoughts cause devastating sobs to continue to rip through Shiloh's throat as she scrubs her hands and arms raw. Her hands and arms burn with every stroke of the washcloth, the water just a quiet echo under her sobs. Her nose is running and her legs are shaking so bad she's surprised she can even stand.

"Boss," Marty says through Shiloh's earpiece, pulling Shiloh from her sobs, making her hiccup. "Breathe."

The AI snaps Shiloh from her thoughts. "Yeah." She says through a sniffle before she coughs.

The water runs clear as Shiloh looks at it, her sobs finally stopping and only a few stray tears continue to fall. Her eyes meet the mirror before she moves the rag to her face and cleans up the dry blood there, wincing every time she touches a new bruise from the night.

Fatigue sets in as she finishes and her stomach turns while her head starts to throb. She can feel the tears still wanting to fall but Marty's interruption is snapping her back to reality. Peter is alone in the living room. She's okay. She can cry about it later. So, she cleans up the blood she got on the sink and exits the bathroom and heads back to the living room.

Shiloh sees Peter still bloody and unconscious on the couch and she sighs to herself before turning back to the bathroom and grabbing another wet wash rag. Shiloh moves to sit in front of Peter, her face almost level with his on the couch and she moves the rag over his chest and abdomen, minding the bruises and cuts. She cleans up the blood from tonight and maybe the night before, it's hard to tell with everything mixing together. But, her hand is light and careful with every move of the rag. Peter's breathing remains steady, his abs flexing only slightly with each breath and Shiloh just shakes her head, getting a clean look at his torso.

What the hell have you been doing, Peter?

She moves onto his face and cleans up some dirt and dried blood from who knows when and who knows what. Removing the blood and dirt only reveals the vibrancy of the cuts and bruises decorating his face.

With every bruise and every cut Shiloh cleans over, it's like she's being stabbed, over and over and over again. It just feels like she's being pulled down and down and she's now drowning with him. She's drowning in the thought of him and everything that's happened between them and the very thought of losing him. Peter's drowning but now so is Shiloh and she's supposed to be the one that can swim.

She shakes her head and moves back to the bathroom, rinsing the rag and setting it off to the side before heading back to the living room. Shiloh rummages through her bag in search of dry clothes only to be met with wet ones from the man who threw them to the wet pavement. That now leaves her with the options of going naked, staying in blood-soaked clothes, or rummaging through Peter's clothes and borrowing some of his. It's an easy choice.

With quiet and shaky steps, Shiloh goes to Peter's room and goes through his drawers to find a pair of red and grey pajama pants and an MIT shirt. She shrugs and changes into them, bringing her clothes back to the living room and folding them to sit on top of her bag, no longer caring if blood gets on any of her things. Everything being covered in blood is apparently inevitable at this point.

That now leaves Shiloh sitting on the floor with her thoughts and her phone. She texts Harley back finally, saying that she would explain later but not to worry and then her mind starts running the night over. Peter was actually going to leave her. That's what she keeps coming back to. After everything they've been through, missions, deaths, petty high school drama, crushes, everything and he was just...gonna leave her. Betrayal runs deep and it burns like sulfuric acid. So, maybe she's done.

It breaks her heart to think about actually being done with all of this but she's fighting to protect someone who was willing to let three men do whatever they wanted to her. He said he didn't leave, sure, but if that man hadn't pulled a gun? Peter's spidey senses never would have alerted him like they did. He wouldn't have turned around. She would have been screwed. Shiloh cares for Peter in ways people just don't understand. Her loyalty to him is something for the books but does her loyalty really run deep enough to let this go and protect him from himself and others?

Peter's eyes open and the intense stinging and burning on his right side bring his eyes there first, seeing the bandage not blood-soaked but covering the wound. His eyes look over himself and he sees the blood has been cleaned off of him, surprise and guilt filling his blood as he lays his head back before turning it to the side and seeing Shiloh.

Shiloh.

She's not facing him, her back to him as her head is hung, likely looking at her phone. After all of that and she stayed to make sure he was okay. The guilt and utter stupidity Peter feels in the moment is absolutely bone-crushing. None of this was supposed to happen. He wasn't supposed to get shot, she wasn't supposed to get attacked in an alley. Hell, she was never supposed be scarred and Peter wasn't supposed to lose his leg, no one was supposed to die. But, bad things happen even when they're trying to be prevented. And he is so sorry for everything.

Two choices: change or let her go.

"S-shiloh?" Peter squeaks, grabbing her attention and it's like the air has been pushed back into her lungs.

She turns around and sees Peter looking at her with sad eyes. "You're awake."

"You stayed." Peter says, voice broken.

Shiloh nods and gets to her feet, going to the kitchen. Peter watches as best as he can from where he's laying, seeing Shiloh dig through his freezer and then a drawer before coming back. She hands him a bag of ice wrapped in a towel.

"You okay?" She asks, her voice deadpan as she avoids eye contact.

Peter puts the ice to his face from where Shiloh had punched him. "Yeah, uh, yeah, I think so."

Shiloh nods, walking over to her bag. "I'm going home." It's not a smile that pulls at her lips, it's just the corners tugging up as if she's trying not to cry.

"Y-you are? Why?" Peter asks, trying to sit up but immediately regrets it as pain shoots through his body.

Shiloh shakes her head in disbelief and annoyance and heartbreak and betrayal and every emotion in between. "You were gonna leave me there and I took a bullet out of you and then I had to burn you." Shiloh swallows, her chin quivering as she grits her teeth. "I'm going the fuck home."

A lump forms in Peter's throat. "Wait."

Peter needs to apologize. He needs to go on a rant, full-blown rant, explaining everything. He just needs Shiloh to know that he's sorry and that he didn't want this. He just needs her to let him talk. It won't fix this but he needs to speak. Take two steps backward and take the entire night back. He wants to take back that decision. He chooses change.

"No!" Shiloh yells. "God, I have been trying to get you to talk to me for a year." Shiloh's eyes water and she hates herself for it. "And now that I'm pissed at you, really, really pissed off and I saved your fucking life and you took a bullet for me, now you want me to stay? After this? I am done. I-" Shiloh stops herself to breathe, trying to keep the tears in and Peter can only watch, trying to hold back his own. "I can't do it. I..." A dry laugh leaves Shiloh's throat as a single tear falls down her cheek. "I do care about you, a lot but we both could have died and-" Shiloh rubs her nose, still not fully looking at Peter. "I can't lose you, Pete." Her eyes finally meet Peter's and he gets a good look at just had red and irritated they are from crying.

Her heartbeat is different, telling Peter that this is something he might not be able to come back from. There was always that unsaid line and he crossed it. He never was going to leave her but she doesn't know that. To her, he crossed that line and Peter knows that. And it's breaking him. It's breaking him hear her heartbreak like it did that day when she saw him in the hospital, rushing him to surgery. It's all his fault. And he regrets everything.

"P-please, can you-"

Shiloh knows she's not done, not permanently because she doesn't give up on him. But, it's been a very long night. Peter is hurt, really hurt, and it breaks a part of her that just won't heal. He needs to heal and she needs to go home and just breathe for a second.

"I got the bullet. It's there on the table and I cleaned you up. I'll wash your clothes and give them to Ned to give to you. You're gonna be fine. You'll heal in like two or three days." Shiloh says before turning her back to him and heading towards the door and that's it.

Harley gave him those two choices. Let her go or change. And he takes it back. He'll take tonight back for the rest of his life. Because he chooses change.

"I won't." Peter says, no stutter, no break. Simple but raw.

Shiloh stops dead in her tracks and she swears she didn't hear that right. "What do you mean you won't? Your entire genetic code has been mutated. You heal fast. It's how your body works."

Peter shakes his head even though she can't see him and tears rim his red eyes. "No, n-not anymore."