When Flash figured out that Puny Parker had a crush on Harley it was easy enough to hold it over his head, the shock was though, that Harley liked him back.
Now, Flash loved Harley like a brother, and for every intense purpose they were brothers. They had spent countless nights playing video games while complaining about useless fathers and had spent hours comforting each other after their mothers' drunken rambles.
So when Harley said he was thinking of asking Peter out, Flash made a plan. Switch the note that Harley put in Puny Parker's locker with one Flash had written himself, and when the night came Harley would think he got stood up and Parker would think Harley sent Flash and his buddies to rough him up a little because there was no way Flash was gonna let Harley settle for Puny Parker.
And so the perfect plan was hatched. But it went so wrong, wrong in ways that Flash couldn't have imagined.
"This doesn't feel right," Cindy said as Flash tossed a shovel full of dirt on to Puny Parker's face... Puny Parker's dead face that wouldn't stop fucking looking at him because no one had shut his eyes and Flash sure as fuck wasn't going to do it.
He continued to shovel, Cindy, Betty, Liz, Brad and Abe stood off to the side being useless as usual.
"Flash stop," Betty said meekly, sounding on the verge of tears, "Fuck we... Flash we have to call the cops," Flash stopped shoveling and spun around to glare at the blonde. "No, we are not calling the fucking cops Betty, and if you so much as even reach for that fucking phone, Parker isn't going to be the only one we're burying tonight!" Flash yelled, maybe a little too loudly for a group of teenagers burying the dead body of an underclassman in the middle of the woods but still...
"We... What's done is done, Betty," Abe said, his voice was trembling, "If we call the cops now it would just be worse for all of us. I've just gotten my scholar ship letter and I cannot - I will not just throw my life away because of an accident..." Abe picks up a shovel and starts in earnest.
Brad grumbles and also picks up a shovel. "I already have a record okay? And besides if you think that your little blonde haired, blue eyed, pasty white ass isn't gonna get more than a slap on the wrist while the rest of us get thrown in prison for the rest of out lives then think again, Betty," he digs his shovel into the dirt pile and tosses some more into the hole.
Flash sighs. "Look, the sooner this is over with the sooner we can all go home and for get about this little shit," Flash spat, but he knew, deep down he knew none of them would ever forget about this. Jesus Christ it was a fucking prank, poking fun on some shitty kid that Flash really has no reason to hate.
But he fought back, for once in his fucking life Peter Parker fought back and in return... Watching Peter struggle, hearing his whimpers as he sunk down further into the broken lamp that had impaled through his chest, his heart, the look in his eyes as he tried to reach out for help, it was... fuck it will haunt Flash's nightmares for the rest of his life.
An hour later Flash, Abe, and Brad finished patting the dirt flat and covering the scene with leaves, they were all ready to go home, but then Flash caught something out of the corner of his eye. "Oh for fucksake!" Flash exclaimed and they all turned to see the hideous bomber jacket Parker had showed up to the motel in.
"Jesus fucking Christ, is no one fucking competent here?" Flash grumbled. Okay, all they have to do is ditch the jacket in someones trashcan, go home, got to bed, and then Flash just needs to comfort Harley tomorrow as he cries about being stood up.
Except that Parker didn't stand him up, in fact Peter looked so... excited and at first Flash didn't understand why but then he took off that damn bomber jacket and it became pretty obvious because he was dressed to the nines, and by that Flash mean's barely anything. But the way Parker looks - looked doesn't matter now because he's three feet under in some random plot in Jersey an hour and a half away from where he actually died and there's no way anyone will find him for a very, very long time - Stop it, for fucksake just stop!
Flash took a deep breath and walked over and grabbed the jacket off the ground and made his way back to the others, he dumps the ugly ass jacket in some random dumpster on the corner half an hour away from where they buried Peter's body and then they drive off in silence.
When they cross the sate border from New Jersey back into New York, Flash finally speaks. "I think I goes without saying that we don't say a word, from this day forward we don't talk about this. Ever. Got it?" He asks only to receive silence.
Flash makes a sharp turn and slams on the brakes sending the car skidding across the asphalt, Betty, Liz, Abe and Cindy are in the back and go careening to the side and they all scream. Once the car comes to a jarring halt, Flash whips around to glare at everyone. "AM I UNDERSTOOD!?" Flash screams furiously.
Cindy and Liz have stared to cry again and Betty looks like she's on the verge of tears but won't let herself cry right now, Abe and Brad are both still and statues. Eventually everyone nods and Flash isn't as cruel as to demand a verbal answer. But what about Peter, wasn't that just as cruel? burying him in the middle of the woods miles away from his friend and family? To deny not only him but your bestfriend any happiness that may or may not have lasted them the rest of their lives?
Flash starts the car back up and gets them back on the road. Tomorrow is a new day, and just a day closer to completely forgetting about this for good.
Last night was hell. And this morning attested to that fact. Meaning Flash was right when he assumed he'd have to comfort Harley about Peter's... lack of appearance. But his friend was worse than Flash had ever seen him before.
Flash honestly didn't understand, even as he rubbed Harley's back under the bleachers by the practice field before first period. He just didn't understand how Peter not showing up hurt him this much.
"C'mon man you gotta let it go, Parker's just one guy and he doesn't know what he's missing out on," Flash grumbled, he was angry, angry at a dead man for causing his best friend this much grief.
His bronze-gold hair was usually combed out and swept to the right leaving the shaved left side exposed to show off the piercing he'd gotten for his eighteenth birthday last year. Today though, it was an unruly mess of knots from restless sleep and with faint remnants of hair product.
But his eyes are what caught Flash off guard the most.
Harley has the most beautiful eyes Flash has ever seen, clear sky blue eyes that brighten when he's feeling happy or mischievous, are currently a dull almost gray color that Flash is all too familiar with. And to further articulate how much of a mess Harley was, he was wearing The Jacket. Most people that don't know Harley might wonder how he would think that is any sort of indication that Harley is distressed, but the jacket is Harley's only piece of clothing that doesn't seem to conform to his body since he started filling out sophomore year and since then it's been Harley's shield, like some kind of code that all their friends knew about.
If Harley had the flannel on you left him alone.
Flash realized right then that Harley would only get worse when the news of Peter going 'missing' reached the school, and when they won't be able to find him... Jesus fucking Christ this is going to be a really shitty end to senior year.
But if he worked hard enough maybe... maybe he could help Harley, distract him with something or someone else. Either or that would take time, for now Flash just needs to give Harley the support that they are known for by each other and then maybe Harley will get over this and everything will just go back to normal. God Flash just wants things to go back to normal.
He left Harley to go to breakfast with thirty minutes to spare before first period and cut it down to twenty-five by getting an energy drink from the vending machine on the other side of the school.
If only he knew how much deeper the cesspool of shit he's in was about to become.