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Peter woke up to someone calling his name. He groaned, trying to move but finding his legs trapped. His eyes flew open, taking in the debris surrounding him and- shit, he remembered now.
They’d been on a mission that should’ve been simple, doing recon on one of Norman Osborn’s old buildings until Peter’s spidey-sense pricked painfully in his neck and after a split second the sounds of multiple explosions thundered in his head. And then the walls had started to collapse, the ceiling caving in and he couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe-
“Kid-“
Peter snapped his head to the side, taking in the red and gold figure that was propping up a slab of ceiling to keep it from crushing them, and oh, right, Mr. Stark was there too. Peter let out a shaky laugh, anxiety buzzing painfully in his chest as he examined the extent of the damage. He was on his back, trapped from the waist down, but his arms were free.
Mr. Stark’s head tilted, his concerned frown deepening as he saw how Peter’s hands were shaking. “Shit, kid, how bad are you hurt?”
Peter had to think about his answer for a minute, making sure he could feel his legs. Then he shook his head, breaking his concentration.
“Just my head, uh, mild concussion, I think. I just- um, I don’t like small spaces.” His voice was shaky and breathless.
Mr. Stark didn’t look convinced but he nodded anyway. “FRIDAY sent out a distress signal as the building went down, so we just have to sit tight until backup gets here.” He eyed the rubble pinning Peter’s legs. “You sure it’s just a concussion?”
Peter shrugged, trying not to hyperventilate at the thought of just waiting, trapped under a building. He stared at the debris all around them, an idea forming as he ran calculations in his head.
“I can lift it.”
“What?”
Peter turned to Tony, determination setting into his expression. “If you hold it steady, I can get us out of here.”
He ignored the confused splutter of, “kid, no-“, as he turned to the chunk of ceiling pinning his legs and carefully lifted it just enough to shimmy out. He turned slowly so that he was positioned under the center of the rubble.
“Trust me, Mr. Stark, I can do it.”
Tony shook his head, the worried crease between his eyebrows deepening. “It’s not that- I just don’t think-“
“Mr. Stark,” Peter said pointedly, cutting him off. “Please, I can’t just stay trapped here. And I know that I can lift it- I, um, I’ve kind of done it before.”
“Wait, you’ve lifted a building before?”
Peter just nodded, looking at the ground. “Please, Mr. Stark, I need to get out of here.”
Tony sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers. “Okay, kid. But the minute it gets too much you tell me, okay?”
“Okay.”
When Rhodey came to get them, he found Tony and the kid sitting atop the ruins of the building, Peter’s head resting on Tony’s shoulder.
“You guys okay?”
Peter smiled as Tony motioned to him. “Just a concussion.”