Chapter Text
1. Stabbed
It all started with Patrol, it wasn’t a busy night, a couple of muggings but nothing too bad. Peter was about to call it a night when Karen informed him that there was an armed mugging in the alley below him. Peter, well, Spider man, had already dealt with about 10 of these already, so he decided to help. Not that he had a choice, Spider man was there for the little man, so that was who he had to help.
It only took a minute to sort it out. He simply covered the victims, so they could get away, fought for a bit and then webbed up the mugger. Simple.
It was only as he turned to leave when he noticed it. When the adrenaline from the fight had been surging he couldn’t even feel it. But now. With the fight over and everyone safe, he was alarmingly aware of the weight and cold in his side.
He climbed away, up onto a rooftop where no one would be there to see him and collapsed onto the ground.
“Karen, what’s in my side” He found himself asking with fuzzy lips. It wasn’t like he didn’t already know but he wanted to be sure, or maybe he was just too shocked to believe it.
“There is a knife in your side” came Karen’s unemotional reply “It appears you have been stabbed.”
Ok, so he had been right…… don’t panic…… don’t panic……
“What do I do now” he asked Karen. He had heard it was best not to remove the knife, but he did have advanced healing so.......
“I would recommend that you don’t remove it. Instead get yourself to the med bay at the tower and let them patch you up.” Was Karen’s simple but impossible reply.
He couldn’t go to the tower, Mr Stark was busy, and he didn’t want to be a nuisance, didn’t want to scare off the only father figure he had left by being too dependable. Mr Stark had always said that he didn’t want kids, that he didn’t want the commitment. Of course, Peter understood, kids were hard work, not everyone likes them, and Mr Stark was a big important figure who didn’t want to clear up after messy kids. Why should he have to clear up Peters mess?
With this in mind Peter carefully swung back to his flat. May was out at work and wouldn’t be back until tomorrow, about midday, so Peter would have lots of time to sort himself out and clean up. He didn’t need help, didn’t need to bother anyone.
As he swung he heard Karen say something, it wasn’t until she repeated herself that Peter realised he had zoned out. He zoned back in in time to hear,
“Peter, do you want me to call Mr Stark?” her voice sounded as worried as an AI can sound and it broke Peters heart.
“No thanks, it’s ok Karen I’m fine” he replied trying to reassure her, yep he was trying to reassure a computer.
Before he could think it over too much, he arrived back at his flat. And, stumbling slightly, jumped through the window and staggered into the bathroom.
He grabbed everything he needed to remove the knife and stitch himself up as he headed to the bathroom. And seated himself on the floor.
Taking a deep breath to ground himself, he grabbed the knife and pulled, screaming as it came out with a sickly pop. Only a second after it was gone he found himself surrounded with blood. It was everywhere, on his hands, the floor, his legs.
He picked up a needle to sort himself out, shaking as he brought it to the gushing wound on his side. Before he could start sewing his surroundings changed.
He was no longer in his bathroom stitching up his stab wound. He was on the side of the road, his uncle Ben lying stretched out next to him. The blood on his hands was no longer his, it was Ben’s. He was pressing his hands to Ben’s wound, crying as his uncle whispered his last words to him. He was sitting in despair as his uncle died in his arms all over again.
Now he was alone again, every father figure in his life always left him, first his Dad, then Uncle Ben, and now…. Wait…… Mr Stark…… Mr Stark hasn’t left him, Mr Stark would never leave him.
Just then, from outside his haze, he heard a voice, “….eter…… Pe……er…….. und……oos……spi…baby…..Ple…..se……ar….yu….there……”
Peter recognised that voice, it was Mr Stark's, why was Mr Stark here, Mr Stark wasn’t there when his Uncle died, so why is he here now? Peter looked around, desperately looking for where Mr Stark was and found nothing but the streets of New York.
He was just giving up hope when he heard it again. “FRI…..AY…… scn…….whta….wrng……..i…..ok…….coem…on…….Pter……..coe…….no”
However hard Peter tried he couldn’t understand what the voice was saying, but it sounded desperate, sad and in need of a hug.
“Please open your eyes” It said, and in a moment of clarity, Peter understood. But was still confused his eyes were open….. that left two options, either Mr Stark was lying, or his eyes were closed and this is a dream. After thinking for a second, Peter came to a conclusion.
It was a dream, Mr Stark would never lie to him.
With great difficulty, Peter took his already open eyes and, opened them even more. He would have thought it was impossible but then, his eyes did open. He was back in his flat, Tony sitting next to him, fear in his eyes. And Uncle Ben wasn’t dying again.
“Hey there Underoos,” Tony said, relief clear in his voice “Welcome back to the land of the living.”
Peter wanted to reply, he had so much to say, but his mouth and brain seemed like they weren’t connected anymore.
“Now kid, next time you get hurt please call me” Tony said, slight desperation in his voice as he picked Peter up and started flying back to the tower.
Peter could barely hold his wince back as he was lifted up before his head had more important matters. ‘Wait’ Peter thought ‘When did he get his suit?’
Suddenly tiredness swept over Peter with such force he thought he was going to fall. But before he could Tony’s grip tightened, “Nope, sorry mate but no sleeping yet.” Peter wanted to complain but had to settle with a disgruntled hum. Sadly, that didn’t do much as an argument because Tony just laughed quietly at him.
About 5 minutes later Tony landed at the tower and rushed down to the med bay. Bruce was already there when they arrived, so Tony placed Peter on the bed and let him work.
Peter didn’t mean to, but when Tony pulled back, he let out a whine at the loss of contact.
“Ok kid, I’m sorry” was Tony’s laughed reply as he started carding his hands through Peter’s hair.
This clearly relaxed Peter and Bruce managed to get started cleaning and stitching Peter up.
“You should be thankful for your healing factor Kid” Bruce said, “You would be dead without it.”
Once he was done Bruce turned to Tony. “He needs lots of rest for the next few days, but you can move him to his room for now.”
Tony thanked the doctor before lifting the surprisingly light teen and carrying him to his room, being careful to not jolt Peters stitches and cause him anymore pain than needed.
He carefully set the light teen on his bed and moved to go back downstairs, before being stopped suddenly by a quiet, broken, painful sounding voice
“Please don’t go, please don’t leave me too.” Tony tensed as the pure brokenness in the voice flowed through him, breaking any resolve he had left.
Turning back around Tony walked back and squeezed onto the bed next to Peter,
“FRIDAY, please turn on Star Wars” Was all Tony said before he started carding his hand through the spider-kid’s hair.
Before the movie was even halfway through Peter was asleep and Tony couldn’t stop a smile filling his face at how cute sleeping Peter was.
Once Tony was sure Peter was deep asleep, he carefully squeezed out and headed to his lab. He didn’t know what he was going to do, but he wanted to edit the suit, so this would never happen to Peter again.