Kaine / Scarlet Spider (raisingkaine) wrote in thedoorway, @ 2013-07-29 15:35:00 |
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Out was an improvement over in, but there was still such a distance to go before anything resembling safe was secured. The exit from Parker’s apartment was hasty thanks to that Jedi woman. She was somewhere down several floors, likely contending with his webbing if not pathetically stuck to the floor. Whatever the case with her, he didn’t care. She was a plight put behind him, and now there only remained an upward climb to get the right arc and reach the next building over. In shorter terms: up and away. Emphasis on away, since the news was bound to spread like wildfire on that infernal network. Street clothes were shed. All could be replaced. The suit jacket twirled downward, shirt next. It was a quick change into the red and black costume that was beneath; the gloves with their sharp-tipped fingers were pulled on and boots in quick succession. By his count, floor thirteen was coming and going, so he only needed to climb a bit further before succinctly dropping Potts Tower from his concerns entirely. This suit came in handy more times than Kaine could count. The building was a hotbed for press, and the last thing he wanted was anyone spotting the Scarlet Spider and snapping photos. So whenever he came and went in costume, invisibility was always turned on. There was no way that anyone was going to jump on the Scarlet Spider train here. It was also nice when you wanted to be alone out on the 13th floor. You heard a lot of interesting conversations that way, tucked away on a ledge when people thought they were alone. Funny how many fictional characters picked their noses or scratched their asses. It was also a take-off and landing spot for some of the superheroes in the building (he was no superhero). No need to brave the protesters, the press, or the steaming pavement of New York City. Nope, just a hop, skip, and a jump, and you were free. Just like this poor soul, scurrying up the side of the building in a hurry. Kaine watched as Peter shed his clothes without thinking of where he was dumping them with a confused frown. The line of Peter's shoulders were rigid, and he was scurrying up the side of the damn building without thinking about anyone below him. At least he wouldn't have to go very far to find him. May was pretty damn good at the guilt trip. "Where the fuck do you think you're going?" he called out before Peter made it to the thirteenth floor. It was the voice that halted Otto mid-reach. Most wouldn’t be able to stop his progress, but there was a pent-up annoyance. The register was pure Parker, not unlike the sound this body produced itself. His spider sense wasn’t flaring, though. And... there didn’t appear to be anyone around. Was it all in his head? The stress of the situation shouldn’t be getting to him this much, but most anything was possible if not plausible. Still, no answer was given to the unseen asker. Otto crawled up onto the landing of the thirteenth floor and began a secondary check that the gloves and boots were in optimum position. Kaine narrowed his eyes behind his mask. No comment from the peanut gallery on his language? No joke about how it wasn't any of his business? No comment at all? Kaine stood up on the ledge, imposing as ever, and let the invisibility drop away from his suit. "I said where the fuck do you think you're going?" There. That ought to get an answer out of Parker. Kaine didn't like being ignored, even if he had a tendency to avoid Parker sometimes on his own. The last thing he wanted was a reminder of just how terrible he was, how unlike and broken he was in comparison to the original. Jackal made sure he knew that, and now, the Other, in his head reminded him every time it could. He just learned how to unfocus from it when he looked in the mirror. Now Otto’s attention was seized. Reflex was to crouch down low, claws readied to shred the other Spider if he dared to step closer. This was not the time to be dealing with genetic rejects. Why Parker even bothered with them was a wonder, but that applied to so many things. His priorities were always skewed with emotional ties. “Out,” was the reply, given with little concern for the looming and clear attempt to threaten. “Move.” Otto didn’t wait. He swung around Kaine, reaching out into the clearing for the space to launch off the building. "What's going on, Pete? What's got you in a huff?" Kaine reached out, grabbed a hold of Peter's arm, to stop him from taking off quite so soon. He wasn't exactly known for his compassion, but he was no stranger to things eating him up inside, just one of the many things he inherited from his big brother. "You need someone at your back?" Eyes narrowed dangerously behind the compound lenses of Otto’s mask. He stopped movement at Kaine’s grab, knowing that it would have thrown his jump off enough to be a wasted effort. It wasn’t more than a split second of standing still, though, before whirling around with the sharp tips of his other glove aimed straight for the larger Spider’s chest. There wasn’t a quip. There wasn’t a smart reply. Those were just time-wasters when he needed to make distance. Kaine saw it coming, though, so he couldn't help but thank whatever had taken away his spider-sense. He'd spent months and months, learning to adjust because one wrong move, one second he hesitated, and he was dead. That wasn't allowed to happen, not when he'd gotten his second chance. He'd already messed it up more times than he could count. He managed to jump back just in the nick of time from those clawed gloves. When the hell did Parker get those? "Hey! What the fuck is wrong with you?" His instinct - the monster's instinct - was to retract those bone claws of his and impale Parker to the ledge, but he hesitated then thought better of it. He webbed Parker's hands so that he couldn't claw him. “You.” Icy words were sliced through the hot summer air. Maybe Kaine had dodged the claws, but Otto had enough time to accustom himself to accelerated reflexes and the webbing was an obvious first option; anticipation combined with sheer speed meant the webbing sailed by without hitting its target. “Never know when to take a hint. I’ve had it with all of you.” A fist was thrown at Kaine, followed in succession by a leg sweep. If he avoided one, he’d have to contend with the second. All that was needed was enough time to get moving on webs. Surely the bulkier Parker would be easier to lose once airborne. Kaine was faster than a lot of superheroes out there, given that his DNA was spawned from the same guy in front of him. He took the fist, however, used it to jump back to give himself enough room to flip over the other man and land back on the ledge. "You don't wanna talk, fine, but don't go there. You know you'll just slip up, and then the rest of us are going to have to hear just how fucking GUILTY you feel that you let so-n-so get away. Kaine, you don't understand.." Pete would forgive him a kick to the back if he thought it was necessary, right? Kaine was going to flip back? Good. “I said...” Otto veered in the other direction, purchasing a foothold as he bounded right over the open part of the ledge. “We’re done,” he gritted out through clenched teeth. As much as he would have loved to see the clone bleed out for what he’d done years ago, time was a more imposing foe. There would be a more fitting moment to repay this man for killing him once upon a time. He’d held that back so far, and he could hold it for just a bit longer. It would have to happen when the advantage was securely back in Otto Octavius’s hands, no matter what infuriating remarks were being exchanged. There was something wrong, of course. Pete was never like this, not even at his worst - and let's face it, Kaine had a bad habit of bringing out Peter's worst. He let Parker take off of the side of the building, but only to shoot two webs at his back simultaneously. When they'd latched onto their purchase, Kaine used all of his weight to yank Pete back toward Potts Tower. Webline was cast out, nearly sinking its own hold onto the adjacent building -- but just as soon, the scenery was reversing as something -- someone -- tore Otto back towards the tower. Parkers never could learn to quit when they were ahead. Fine. This would be a fight. Before being hoisted back over the ledge, fingers latched to the building itself, buying just a moment to twist around and launch over the top, right into Kaine. He’d have his hands busied with the webline, no doubt, leaving an opening for ten pointed claws to find their target this time. Kaine saw it coming, but every good chess player had to sacrifice to get what he wanted. In Kaine's case, he needed Peter back on this side of the ledge and talking to him. If that meant he had to bleed to get it, well, that was a sacrifice. It wasn't as if he was afraid of a little blood. In retrospect, maybe he should have been. As soon as the claws dug into the flesh and the blood dripped down his chest, Kaine felt the monster inside of him burst forth. In a matter of milliseconds, Kaine's consciousness was pushed from the forefront of his mind to a state of near blackout. It was as if everything dimmed, gray-scaled, and he had no control over himself. He went from trying not to hurt Pete (too much), to flat out snarling, "Prey." in a strange otherworldly voice. This was not supposed to happen. Kaine struggled with The Other until he had wrestled some control. It wasn't quite enough to stop himself from releasing his bone stingers, though, and dropping to his knees, he forced himself to merely stab at Peter's foot than any other portion of his body. Claws dug in as only expected, but... this further development was not. Otto withdrew his hands with a satisfied thought that Kaine would surely stand down to the man who -- by all appearances -- was Peter Parker. Didn’t guilt usually account for self-defeat in their little ring? Kaine seemed to have contracted a case of the same, so why was he braced to impale the nearest moving thing? A quick move was enough to spare his foot, but the bone blades still shredded against his shin. A raspy breath was seized from the air as Otto touched down low, staring Kaine down. He looked to his leg, where the costume had been torn away. And then there was realization. This was best: take Kaine out now. He wouldn’t kill again if someone finally put him down for the count. There was a moment to speak, since the odds of Kaine springing seemed less so long as he was trying to noose his inner rage. “You can’t contain it, can you? Stand down, and I’ll take care of it,” were the cool words, spoken with an eerily and serene quality. “Haven’t you done enough already, Kaine?” Peter was being mind controlled. Or possessed. Or he was a Skrull. Or something. Because Peter Parker would never offer to kill him. Even when he was deranged and attempting to murder him, Peter always wanted him to turn himself into the police. Ben, too. It was always Kaine who wanted to murder - That's who Peter reminded him of at this moment. Had they tapped into that "grumpy DNA" that he and Ben joked about? Had someone managed to suppress everything that made Peter Parker Peter Parker and turn him into Kaine? "Finally, you're talking some sense." He moved to take a blind stab toward Pete's abdomen, knowing that it would never reach the mark, which wasn't Kaine's intention anyway. While he was sure Parker would be distracted with that, he flicked his wrist back and - THWIP - attempted to web his ankles together. At Kaine’s first movement in, Otto braced for the impact with both hands. Even if it was a fake-out, he couldn’t take the risk of an assumption. The webbing hit one ankle, tacking it to the surface of the 13th floor -- it threw him, but the close proximity gave him the opportunity to counter with a swing of the other leg up. The talon sliced the air in a desperate attempt to land another gash, but missed as the webbed foot fixed his reach just shy. “You idiot. I don’t have time for this!” A hand reached for the webbing, tearing it in a quick pull. After that came a lunge at Kaine, straight towards the interior of Potts Tower and right through the window. Sometimes it paid to be bigger than Parker; this was one of those times. Thinking quickly, Kaine knew the placement that his body would need to roll them both backward so that he could get the advantage again. It was Otto who went through the window first. Fragments of glass scratched his costume even as larger shards of glass jabbed and poked as he landed on them. He got to his feet, wiping the back of his hand against his mouth through his mask. This was turning into a huge disaster, but to be frank (and aside from the monster rearing its ugly head) Kaine was having a good time. As he stood up, he noticed a small brunette who had just entered the entertainment room. He waved an arm and yelled, "Get the hell out of here!" "Where the fuck are you going in such a hurry?" It was strange that Peter was talking like one of those French guys or a supervillain. Is this what he got up to in his spare time that he didn't want anyone else to know about? The claws on the costume were new, too - in retrospect. Kaine hunkered down for the next attack, as imposing as ever, bone stingers angled outward at his side. "Spider got your tongue?" Glass shards shredded the red and black fabric, pieces slicing right into Otto’s back as Kaine bore his weight down. A quick survey of the room they’d crashed into proved worthless. Trying to drown the other man in the pool wouldn’t work, unfortunately. Bludgeoning him with a TV screen wouldn’t do much good, either. But innocents -- that had given Kaine some pause. A distraction could do. The flip to his feet was quick and deft; blood prints from the claws were left on the floor tiles as Otto pulled away. Maybe the safest way was through the building itself. Lose this imbecile, build up his supplies, come back with a plan. And with not even a word in reply, Otto turned for the door, bounding straight out it. Goddamnit! Kaine shook himself out of his stance and geared up to follow him. Whatever was going on with Parker, it had to be huge. This was so out of character that even Kaine was confused at the turn of events. As often as he'd wished that Peter would grow up in some Spider-aspects, this wasn't nearly as relieving as he'd expected. He needed to slow Parker down. What he really needed was to web the shit out of him so that he couldn't break free so he could fucking talk to him. Throw some water on him, break whatever voodoo curse was on him. Unfortunately, the monster inside him continued to struggle for dominance, and while Kaine was in control now, one wrong move... he knew he could lose it. He wasn't sure what that would mean, except he knew there would be blood on his hands. He'd almost killed Aracely by losing control, and he could feel the floating feeling that murder wouldn't be so bad just moments before. With short, controlled bursts, he shot webs and lines out of his wrists at Parker's feet. The stingers were throwing his aim off, so he retracted them. "Fucking coward, come BACK here!" And the impaired aim was to Otto’s advantage. He was a nimble streak of red bolting out of the room, onto the ceiling, and tearing down the hall at a reckless speed. A sharp pivot around the corner gave him time to set his position and wait for Kaine to undoubtedly plow around and right into place. Blood dripped down the elbows now, saturating the fabric so that it shined against the hallway lighting. Superficial wounds. That was fine. But his arm was on fire for having been twisted as the two men tumbled. Kaine was stronger -- it was a known fact. It only made sense that close-quarters combat made that a greater threat without the use of robotic arms to keep that power at a distance. And even when he’d had the arms, there was that fatal encounter... A coward? No. Kaine would learn the difference between strategy and mindless rage. There wouldn’t be any losing this time. Kaine lowered his center of gravity to pick up some speed as soon as he saw Peter turn the corner. He quickly calculated when he'd need to turn so he wouldn't slam into the wall, and just prayed there was no idiot refugee behind that corner for him to barrel over - either of them. Pete might be smaller, but he was still nearly six foot and running at top speed. There was a chunk of glass in his foot, his chest was still stinging, and then he saw Pete just a second too late. He jerked his head, and if this had been a movie or a TV show, it would have been used as a comedic gag. He prepared for whatever he could think of: webs, a punch, a kick, a line around his throat, but he was wide open and cursing himself. Spider-sense may not have worked on Parker, but goddamnit, one of his visions would have been welcome before all this mess. Maybe he could have seen what the fuck all of this was about. The opportunity was there for the seizing. Otto threw himself down with enough force to stagger Kaine further. “I’ll show you a coward,” he rasped, voice breaking into an un-Parker, unnatural aggression. Claws ripped down through open air, readied to gouge right into Kaine’s spine. His mind was still reeling. Ben didn’t know and couldn’t even begin to understand the how or why, but the action needed was obvious. Find. Contain. Then they could work on fixing this. There had to be a way to fix it. Once he found the trail of destruction, it was easy enough to follow. Glass, blood, webbing, the yelling that was far too familiar (although not the same with the Reiiilly at the start or end). The very creepy tone coming from what might have been Peter’s voice... One second to take in the scene once around the corner and he sprang into action. Close quarters, but he still shot out a webline to give himself more leverage and momentum as he slammed into ‘Peter’s’ back feet first. The focus was solely on victory, which was so close. Otto didn’t -- couldn’t -- see the second arrival on the scene before it was too late to counter or move out of the way. Instead of a surgical and precise cut that would have wrapped up Kaine’s part in one manner or another, the blades capping the fingers were wretched in a crooked, half-hearted scrape. Hands were more necessary in bracing against the impact that sent him tumbling clear into the opposing wall. It wasn’t a rational emotion that set Otto’s teeth gritting into each other, even as he recovered and crouched in a ready (if not pained) stance. “You --” Reilly. Of course it would be another damn Parker. Two on one. Not good odds. Pit them against each other, if possible. “You,” was spat out, “would really defend this murderer?” Ben mirrored the crouch, his body taut and his attention focused fully on ‘Peter’. Webbing would buy them some time, but the whole ‘making sure you could break through your own webbing’ thing kind of got screwed up when cloning was thrown into the mix. Talking though he could do. Maybe throw ‘Peter’ off guard. At least give Kaine enough time to recover. The two of them could take Peter easily. They’d managed an army of clones after all. “Depends,” he puffed out, his head tilting to the side and eyebrow raising behind the mask. “We talking Jester and Screwball here or more of a Massacre thing? Because I just washed the suit and if I’m going to be lending you those extra hands you need, I wanna know how much of a mess I’m looking at.” About goddamn time Reilly showed up. Maybe it sounded funnier in his head, with the blood loss, but it really only fueled Kaine's rage. Whoever this was, it wasn't Peter Parker. Something had wormed its way inside his - his brother - and had taken him over. Peter and Ben were the best men he knew (Uncle Ben didn't count), and Kaine felt that it was a complete violation. Disrespect at its most disgusting. He managed to get to his feet, even though his back was shredded. All Kaine tasted was blood. Standing was right out. The edge of his vision was blurring, and every second, he lost more control of himself. He wanted to help Ben, move into position behind "Peter" and corner him. This should be a piece of cake, if it weren't for the fact that Kaine was struggling with his inner demon and whoever this villain was was in Peter's skin and knew they weren't going to do anything to truly jeopardise it. Well, Ben wasn't going to do anything. The monster inside Kaine had no qualms, and while Ben kept Otto distracted, Kaine shuffled against the wall. His back stung like a motherfucker. After this was over, he was going to hate life and lie in a bathtub full of epsom salt with a mouthful of Tylenol. Unless, of course, Ben was being honest about helping Peter end him. Then he was going to burn in hell. Same difference, really. Silent seconds lapsed, Otto keeping both of the other men framed in his vision as he tried to find some small respite. The damage was starting to wear him down; blood was pooling at his feet. He’d have to get out of here somehow. The answer wasn’t revealing itself at present, but if Reilly wanted to talk... fine. “It does depend, doesn’t it?” A hand was raised to pull the mask off, revealing nothing unsurprising: Peter Parker’s face, battered and freshly-bruised. Otto knew it would give pause to the others. No more missteps. “On if you’re going to allow him to kill me. He’s lining up for it now.” Ben’s jaw tightened. Manipulative jack-ass. Too bad he had far too much experience facing off against, well, his face. At least this one wasn’t melting. If anyone who knew Peter and hadn’t gotten the memo came by though... This’d be awkward. And then the injuries... yeah, that was cause for worry. For Kaine and ‘Peter’. End this quick. Or quicker. Hopefully. There was still a second’s hesitation, that twist in his stomach that came back from having to yell at Kaine too often to cool it and no killing. But that was the old Kaine, crazy with pain and the shitty life he’d been handed. This Kaine, well, time to put your money where your mouth is, Ben. He shot one last glance towards the other clone, checking his position and the trajectories needed for this stuck between two spiders and a web to work. “Him I trust,” he said firmly, his fist flicking and arm punching out to shoot the expanding pellet of impact webbing at ‘Peter’, his aim favoring the side opposite of from Kaine just a tad. Of course the spider sense wouldn’t work when it was needed most. Fast thinking had to take over. These two were as quick on their feet as Parker was, leaving no room for a mistake. The impact webbing struck open space as Otto weaved away -- yes, closer to Kaine, but options were limited. The red-strained claws were once again poised for any advance. If he had to cut his way through a Parker to get out of this, then so be it. The world would be done a favor to be one less brute masquerading as a hero. But not all quantities could have been known. As earlier with Jaina, someone forced Otto’s hand. Some unseen force halted his right leg, and the subsequent half-hop and stumble was enough to spoil the effort entirely. The advantage that he’d nearly grabbed flitted off -- Otto could almost feel it vacate and leave him in a dire situation. Reilly was planted and battle-ready. Kaine was hunkered down, coiling back, undoubtedly, to spring on his prey. There weren’t enough bots in the area to sway the balance. Kaine's control was fleeting. His hands were shaking with the effort as he shoved down the red-eyed thing inside of him. Maybe it was seeing Peter's face that gave him the boost, but Kaine would never admit it, not even to himself. He balled his fists up, willing himself to retain control. He couldn't decide if the wall or the floor was a better approach. Parker was dodging every web they shot at him. Something else was going to have to take him out. The stumble was noted. Pete may not be the most graceful fighter, but he was certainly better than a stumble in the middle of the fight. Not even the graze on his shin should have tripped him up. He'd seen Parker dying from a monster flu handle himself better. Nope, not Parker's face. It was the memory that even at his most villainous, there had been a bit of Peter Parker deep down inside Kaine that just couldn't do it. Could never kill his brothers. Kaine used the wall as leverage, body angled and ready to strike like a sprinter. With a hard push, he dove toward Peter's legs. Maybe if they could just get him off balance, he could web his legs together and knock him off his feet. Ben could do the rest. Ben froze a second at the stumble. Sure, ‘Peter’ was injured, but they had all fought with worse injuries than that. The movement wasn’t natural in that misstep or leg giving out sort of way and a surge of hope went through him. “Pete?” he breathed out before moving. Kaine chose the low road, so high road it was. He shifted his game plan, flipping and twisting over the two with help of the ceiling to go for a headlock or arm grab instead of a knock-out punch. If Pete was still in there and could help them more.... It was sheer luck that what should have been a condemning moment had turned into another window of opportunity. Reilly’s tactic change was placing him right in reach, and Otto decided to forfeit his attention on Kaine in that millisecond. He had to turn away from the Scarlet Spider, which left an exposed back, but the younger clone was spinning right into raised claws. “No,” was the answer to the question. If there was any shred of Parker left, he would get dealt with, too, but only after the clones. Huh, right, that new feature. Really bad thing to forget when tumbling close to someone who the spider-sense didn’t work on. Well, two someones. He twisted more, but the quarters were too tight, the avoidance too late, and really? Claws? Really? Might as well go with it. He hissed in a breath as the claws sunk in, but instead of trying to pull away, he snaked his arms around ‘Peter’s’ arms, gripping his upper arms tight. He kept ‘Peter’ close, twisting them as they fell so he landed onto the floor beneath ‘Peter’, leaving the man’s back exposed to Kaine. “Fight him, Pete,” he spat out. Just keep this attention. “You’ve done it already, right? This nutjob’s a cake walk compared to the symbiotes. We can beat the likes of him in our sleep.” Arms being pinned was one thing, but there was free use of Otto’s legs, which crimped up between the two of them. The pointed feet were pressed into Reilly’s thigh, willing him to ease up his hold. And there was a laugh at the flame of hope that burned in the words directed at Parker. It thinly guised the sharp inhale that came with glass shards burrowing deeper and whatever damage Kaine had done to his leg making itself known. “You -- you have no concept of what happened, do you?” The face of Peter Parker twisted into a dark, half-deranged grin. “I won. No matter what you do, I won.” Kaine had picked himself up off the floor, his mask torn where he'd slammed into the wall a moment before. An enormous bruise began to blossom on his jaw. It was only a second, one little second, but he couldn't get his footing fast enough to lunge at "Peter" before he got a hold of Ben. The blood on his brother's chest was enough to send Kaine into another fit of rage, but he managed to contain it. That grin, on the other hand, was something out of one of his own nightmares. As quick and silent as a spider, he was right next to "Peter" looking down at the pair of them. "Hey, asshole?" Kaine tapped "Peter" on the shoulder. When the other man looked, he was already mid-swing, throwing all of his weight into a punch meant to send him to the land of nod for a while. "I know Peter Parker, and you haven't won shit." Ben’s grip stayed tight, despite the pain and that taunt and, oh god, that look on his face. His fingers only relaxed after ‘Peter’ stayed slumped down against him, shallowly breathing, for a very long count of twenty. Ok, twenty-five. His head slumped back against the floor and he heaved out a sigh before hefting ‘Peter’ off of him and to the side. Oh, ouch, claws coming out not anymore fun that them going in... ‘Peter’ was wrong. He had to be. Pete was in there and Pete didn’t lose. Ok, he didn’t always win. He faltered and fell and made really bad decisions, but he didn’t lose. ‘Peter’ just didn’t know the can of whoop ass that was inevitably waiting for him in the future. Yeah, that was it. He let out a long groan as he pushed his mask up and looked up at Kaine. “How you holding up, big guy?” he huffed out, knowing he should move but really not wanting to. 'Peter' appeared to be out, but Kaine still nudged him with his foot. When he didn't move, he glanced down at Ben, then held a hand out to him. A hard tug later, Ben was on his feet. Kaine sized up his injuries, making a note on all the things they'd have to web up. The wounds in his chest and thigh made something gurgle in Kaine's head, and he very nearly kicked 'Peter' once more for it. He pulled his mask up. "I'm fine," he grumbled in return, but even as he said it, he knew it was going to be a half a bottle of aspirin night. Probably chased with a glass of whiskey. His own chest and back were beginning to sting as the adrenaline wore off. He was sure his back looked like ground beef, and his jaw was already screaming. He nudged 'Peter' once more with his foot. "Better get him taken care of before he wakes up. He's not gonna be out for long." Ben raised a skeptical eyebrow considering the raw, torn flesh that sat at his eye level, but really Kaine had had worse. Much worse. There were more important things to focus on too because they couldn’t afford another fight like this, if just for the sake of the building and its carpet. Even so, one of them passing out from blood loss before they even got up to a room wouldn’t do them any good either. Jolts of pain shot through his legs even more now that he was upright and he was about to find out just how absorbent unstable molecules could be. He nodded, his hand coming up and wrist flicking to carefully web up the worst of Kaine’s chest wounds. It wasn’t a real fix, but it’d do until they had some time to properly get patched up. “Get him to Jaina and restrain him good and solid. Maybe she can get something from his head or fix it and if not there’s Steve, Tony, and Carol and their buds,” he breathed out as he worked before nudging Kaine’s shoulder lightly. “Turn ‘round.” "Leave it," Kaine answered, his face twisting in something torn between confusion and amusement. And then concern as he noticed the sheer amount of blood pooling at Ben's feet down his legs. That was going to scar or worse. "Yours is more dire. Looks like nicked arteries. Come here, we gotta make a tourniquet." Even though Ben didn't look happy about it, Kaine pulled a long line of webbing from his own wrist and tied off his leg. This might even be beyond a web-bandage, to be honest. Those spiked toes of Pete's really did a number on Reilly's legs. Once the tourniquet was tied, he overloaded the hole with webbing. "Let's get him downstairs. My back can wait." Ben rolled his eyes. He could argue. He wanted to argue. But then they’d be stuck here arguing all night or until Kaine decided to either just leave or knock him out. Or ‘Peter’ woke up... He puffed out a sigh as he gestured towards ‘Peter’. “Be my guest, Hulk lite.” Technically, the back did wait. It waited until Kaine turned away from him and it was in clear view. His jaw tightened as he shot a swath of webbing at the gaping wound that took up a good deal of Kaine’s back. Sure, it wasn’t as nice and carefully done as it would have been done otherwise, but at least the larger man wouldn’t be bleeding out as much. There was a brief instant in which Kaine considered spinning around and knocking Ben's teeth down his throat. He paused in his tracks, gave a glance over his shoulder through his mask, his expression, of course, was unreadable. His shoulders rolled up, then down, as if Kaine had just let out a very deep and long suffering sigh. Then, without another word, he leaned down and scooped up the prone Parker. It was going to be a long night, after all, and they still had a lot of answers to get. |