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Peter sat at his lab table, tapping his pencil against his Pre-Calc book while working on his homework. Since it was a Friday, he was staying over for the weekend and Tony refused to let him work on anything in the lab until all of his homework was completed. Scribbling down an answer, he closed his textbook. “I’m finished, Mr. Stark!”
“For the last time kid, call me Tony.”
“Whatever you say, Mr. Stark.”
Tony looked up from tinkering with an arm from his Iron Man suit to catch Peter’s smile. As Peter bent down to put his books in his backpack, he noticed the darker line next to his right eye. He had only caught glimpses of it before, and figured that it was dirt or oil or something else from the lab. But Peter hadn’t worked on anything yet, and now that he was thinking about it, it was always in the same place.
“Are you okay, Mr. Stark?” Tony had not realized that he zoned out.
“Oh, I’m fine. Just thinking about some potential new web combos for your suit. Hey, can you bring me a small flathead screwdriver when you come over here?”
“Sure.”
Tony decided that he would ask Peter about it when he came over with the screwdriver. “Here you go, Mr. Stark,” Peter said as he handed the tool over. “What exactly are you doing?”
“I’m tightening one of the screws near the repulser to see if that will fix an issue with the ring finger. It feels too loose. If this doesn’t work, I’ll have to dismantle the entire hand.”
Turing back to the kid, Tony gestured to Peter’s face with the screwdriver. “So, tell me how you got the dark streak near your right eye.”
“What?” Peter was momentarily confused. “Oh, I’ve had this scar so long that I’ve forgotten it’s even here. Most people don’t notice it unless I point it out.”
“Okay, but how did you get the scar?”
“It was the day I almost lost an eye.”
“I beg your pardon. What did you just say?” Tony dropped the screwdriver, and would have fallen to the floor if he wasn’t already sitting on his stool.
“I almost lost an eye,” Peter repeated in the same nonchalant tone as before.
“I really want to hear this story, but let’s move somewhere I can’t break things or fall down,” Tony said as he pointed to the couch across the lab.
Peter walked over and sat down as Tony made himself another cup of coffee. Looking over his shoulder, he called out, “Mr. Stark, I don’t understand why you are freaking out about this. It happened years ago, and I obviously have both of my eyes. Plus, how it happens is kind of funny.”
“I can already tell this is going to be a long story that’s going to involve you doing a bunch of stupid things.”
“I’m not that bad.”
“Yes you are. That’s part of the reason why you have so many protocols in your suit. The other being you’re a teenager.” Tony made his way over to the sofa and sat down. Once he was settled in, he turned to Peter. “So Pete, how did you almost lose an eye?”
“I was about eight or nine years old at the time. I was getting ready to go over to Ned’s house for a sleepover, but May wanted me to take out the bathroom garbage first. I ran into the kitchen to get a replacement bag, but I overshot where they are stored and crashed, hitting my face on the windowsill before falling to the ground.”
“That’s not really funny,” Tony interjected.
Peter shrugged and mumbled, “It is to me.” Back at his normal volume, he continued. “Anyways, May heard me fall and came rushing over to me. She took one look at my face and ran back towards the bathroom before handing me a washcloth and pressing it to my face. I didn’t really feel scared until then. I knew I was bleeding, but I didn’t think it was that bad. I figured that May would just slap a bandaid on it and then I’d be on my way to Ned’s house.
“Meanwhile, May is hugging me telling me that everything will be okay and to keep putting pressure on the wound. When she went to get her phone, I tried to go over to the mirror so I could see how bad it was. She came back with my shoes and had Ben on the phone, telling him to meet us at the nearest hospital. She realized that I was trying to look in the hall mirror and quickly steered me towards the couch, having me sit down so she could put my shoes on.
“I honestly felt fine and thought that May was overreacting. Sure, I was in pain, but an aspirin would have fixed that. I tried to tell her that we didn’t need to go to the hospital because a bandaid would take care of everything. She wouldn’t listen, however, so to the hospital we went.”
Tony butted in. “It’s refreshing to know that your lack of self-preservation and self-awareness was around before you became Spiderman.”
“Really?”
“Not at all. But it does help explain why you act the way you do on patrol. You know, like not calling me when you were stabbed last month. I didn’t get a call until Karen’s protocols forced the suit to call me.”
“But I was fine. I was only lightly stabbed.”
“The key word there being stabbed. And don’t forget about the internal bleeding.”
“But that’s where all the blood’s supposed to be.”
“Stop referencing Brooklyn Nine-Nine.” At Peter’s incredulous but excited face Tony added, “Yes, I occasionally watch the show. Now, back to the story.”
“We are so having a marathon this weekend!” Tony looked amused.
“Okay. So we arrive at the hospital, and it’s a bit crowded in the ER waiting room, so we know that we will be there a while. After May fills out the forms, she calls Mrs. Leeds to let her know that the sleepover will have to be rescheduled due to me cracking my head open.” Tony frowns. Peter backtracks, “I’m sure she told her more elegantly than that. Anyways, Ben arrives from work about 30 minutes after we do and sits with us. He tells me funny stories to distract me until I get called back.
“Once I’m on a bed, the doctor removes the bloody washcloth from the side of my face. The cut finally stopped bleeding, much to May and Ben’s relief. A nurse then comes in and cleans the area so the doctor can see just how long and deep the cut was. After he takes a look at it, he calls another doctor over to look at the now clean wound. They then walk away from me and Ben went with them. Although May is trying to distract me, I catch a few words, such as ‘precision is needed’ and ‘minimal scarring.’’
Tony butts in once again. “They probably brought in a plastic surgeon. They’re known for not leaving scars.” Peter gives him a look before continuing the story.
“Anyways, the doctors went away and Ben came back into the room. He told me that they would fix me up in no time. A nurse then came in and had me lay down with my head on a pillow before she placed numbing cream in the area. After waiting for it to kick in, she poked me with a needle multiple times to make sure that it worked. A few minutes later, the doctor came back and got ready to sew my face back up.
“My head had to be held at a weird angle so the doctor could see what he was stitching. Ben sat behind me and held my head while May held my hand and told me to squeeze if it hurt. She also made me keep my eyes on her, although I could still see the doctor and the needle out of the corner of my eye.
“I ended up with four stitches right next to my eye. As the doctor was leaving, he mentioned that if the cut was any closer, I would have lost my eye. That scared My and Ben more than me; I thought that eye patches were cool.”
“I’m sorry Underoos, but I do not think you could rock an eye patch.”
Peter shrugged before continuing. “After I was released, it was late at night. None of us had dinner, so Ben bought us ice cream from the deli around the corner. I had the stitches in for a week, and I had to wear half of a butterfly bandage on the side of my face to keep it clean and dry. Since I couldn’t get my face wet, Ben ended up washing my hair in the kitchen sink for me.
“The only thing that happened that week was that I was hit in the face at the playground. It hurt a lot, and May came running over to make sure that none of my stitches popped. They didn’t.”
“How did you get hit in the face?” Tony looked concerned.
“Oh, a game of four square got super intense as I walked by. The girls apologized though.”
“Wow, that was quite the story.” Tony set down his coffee mug. It was empty.
“Yep. It’s a fun one to tell at parties.”
“Kid, you don’t go to parties.”
“I’m aware.” Peter hurriedly changed the subject before Tony could comment more on the subject. “You know, getting the stitches out hurt more than when they were put in.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. There was no numbing, I had a pair of scissors right next to my eye, and every piece of thread being pulled out felt like someone was pinching me in the eye.”
“I’m sorry kiddo.”
“There’s nothing you can do about it, Mr. Stark. It’s in the past. Besides, I’m over it.”
They stood up from the couch. “All right,” Tony clapped Peter on the shoulder, “how about we watch some Brooklyn Nine-Nine?” With a nod, Tony led them out of the lab. “And for the last time kid, it’s Tony.”