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Peter had slowly stopped sending messages to Happy. When he had been given the suit, Peter called every night after patrols. After the Vulture, Peter called once a week. Now, a month later, he stopped calling all together. Maybe it was the guilt of bothering Hap. Maybe Peter was bitter that Happy hadn’t picked up when he was lying on the beach, Vulture webbed up, and shrapnel in his leg. Peter tried to sigh at the thought, but the rubble pressing so close to his chest was making it difficult.
“K-Karen?” the cracking in his voice reminded Peter that he probably sounded like a kid. A broken and static whirring filled his ears.
“Yes..Pet-…still active…but-….systems…need repair.” The soft robotic voice cracked and sputter behind hiccups of static.
“’s okay, Karen, ‘m sure Mssr ‘stark will fix you right up.” Maybe it was the head wound making him slur, or the exhaustion that was creeping in from all around him.
“Pet-…stay… get help-“ Karen crackled again. Peter tried to shift, but the jolt of pain that shot up through his pinned left arm had him yelp out.
“Karen,” Peter’s head lolled as he tried to look around the concrete, “could-could you please play ‘ome music? ‘S okay of ya can’t-“Suddenly a soft stream of violin music came through the comms, it was soothing and helped Peters’ limbs relax just a bit. “Thanks Karen, love you.” Only static in background of the music as Karen tried to respond. Even though he was trapped underneath a building once more, at least he didn’t feel alone this time. At least he wouldn’t die in silence.
Peter had stopped leaving voicemails for Happy. The thought crossed his mind, over and over again for the past…however long he had been down here. It meant nothing that he couldn’t tell the time. It only meant that Happy would have no idea what he was up to. Which meant that no help was coming for him. When the building had first collapsed, that thought might have worried him. Yet with the soothing music and how numb he was beginning to feel, nothing really seemed to matter at all. He had tried to get out, he really had. Screaming, crying, pushing, even punching but the concrete would not budge. And now there was something warm spreading up his right side, and that felt kind of nice, not worrisome at all.
Peter had stopped leaving voicemails for Happy. There were no repercussions. Happy or Mr. Stark didn’t seem to notice or care. Which was fine by Peter…at least that is what he kept telling himself. Peter shouldn’t be a burden, shouldn’t be annoying, should just shut up penis parker.
“Ugh, even when ‘m dying Flash ‘s an asshole” Peter grumbled, his voice cracked and hoarse. Peter tried to flex his arms once again. The right was okay on its own but caused a dull ache in his side. The left arm still trapped beneath concrete shuddered with pain but not as bad as before. Peter had an idea. It was the blood loss and shock no doubt that was causing a lack of feeling in his whole body. But no feeling meant no pain. With ever last bit of strength left in his entire body, Peter pushed the large slab of concrete off with his left arm, finally freeing it. With a quick roll, he managed to get out of the way as he let the slab fall down. There was rubble directly above him, but there was enough wiggle room for Peter to readjust himself in the small space. Peter took a shaky breath. He was still trapped in a small space, concrete debris and bits of metal surrounding him. It wasn’t completely dark, but the visible light was muted at best. With his left arm free Peter leaned his head against the concrete, his breathing slowing.
“Pete…” static again in his ears as Karen tried to speak to him, “…Hap…Stark are here..help…” Peter couldn’t make sense of the random words. The music had stopped as Karen tried to keep speaking to him. Yet Peter didn’t mind. The pain was ebbing, and he cared less about how cold he was. Earlier he had begged and pleaded to be saved. He told May he was sorry, promised never to call Happy again if he came now, pleaded for Mr. Stark to come save him, anything, and everything, but now he smiled sadly, too tired to cry.
“’s okay Karen, ‘m gonna see Ben soon.” The teen let his body relax, let the floating take him. Peter thought briefly about how he had wound up here, how he was going to die.
Peter had stopped leaving voicemails for Happy. There was no one to listen to his story now anyways, so he thought he would replay it just for himself. It had been a routine night, a few lost kittens, a mugging or two, helping some people cross the street, then he saw it. A partially collapsed elementary school. He spoke with police and firefighters before using Karen to get all the kids out. There were a few cuts and bruises, only one teacher with a broken leg, but for a building collapse it was low damage. He was escorting the last small group of eight-year olds when it happened. They were just about to reach the exit, but his Spidey senses exploded. One of the ceiling support beams crashed down with a large portion of roof. With some hastily thrown webs Peter had managed to catch some of the roof, but the steal beam came crashing into his out stretch arms. He told the kids to run and they did. Thankfully all the kids got out, but that was when the floor gave in and he fell into the basement. The rest was a blur to Peter. There was crashing and blood, then of course the begging for help. It felt like hours, hell maybe even a day since he had been trapped under the weight of an entire school. Now none of it mattered, he was going to die here, but at least he saved some people in the process. Peter smiled slightly, at least he got to do one more good thing as Spiderman before it all ended.
Peter had stopped leaving voicemails for Happy. So, when he heard Happys’ voice shouting his name, he was sure it was a dream. Also, Happy never called him by name barley even looked at him, it was always grumbling. When there was a sound of repulors, and Iron man calling out to him, that just confirmed that he was in some sort of blood loss induced hallucination. He felt light now, his breathing slowing the pain almost forgotten. Some of the rubble shifted, Peter imagined he should feel panicked but couldn’t really get himself to care. Not even as the debris shifted, and he could see the stars. It was a rare night indeed that you could see stars in New York.
“Kid! Peter!” A voice screamed, but Peter did not look at the voice just kept his eyes on the stars. But suddenly they were gone, and in his vison was a pale and panicked looking Mr. Stark. Peter knew this was a dream now. “Peter? Peter please…say something kid.”
“Mssr Stark, look,” Peter breathless wheezed out as he pointed his head upwards, “you can see ss-stars.” Peter tilted his head slightly so he could see past the now crying face of Mr. Stark. Mr. Stark didn’t cry; this was definitely a dream. He could also see a terrified looking Happy standing at the top of a pile of concrete looking down at the two.
“Yeah Pete, just keep looking at those dying balls of gas and we’re gonna get you out kid.” Mr. Starks voice hitched in his chest, like it was hard for him to breathe. “Keep telling me about what you can see kid, you need to stay awake kid-shit-stay awake kid you’ve lost a lot of blood.”
“’skay mssr Stark, like I…told Karen…’m gonna see Ben soon.” With that Peter finally passed out, listening to the frantic cries of his name.
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The next thing Peter felt was movement. Was he moving? Was the entire world shifting? There were muted voices around him. He was so tired, he just wanted to go back into the darkness. But the world was shifting beneath him, that didn’t feel right. With all his might he cracked open his eyes. The stars were gone. Replaced with a smooth grey ceiling. It was familiar to Peter, but his brain couldn’t place it. He was at an odd angle, his legs sprawled out on something…leather, maybe? His upper body propped up against something warm. And there was something across his chest. Peter tried to lift his arm to the things on his chest but couldn’t. All that he managed was a wheezy groan.
“Peter?” Peter could feel the vibrations in his shoulders. He tilted his head back and met the wet sad eyes of Mr. Stark.
“mmmsr stark you…okay?” Peter wheezed out, the pain was nonexistent but the dust and grime in his lungs was making speaking difficult. That, and the way his head was swimming. Tony gave an incredulous laugh and buried his face into Peters’ mess of curly hair.
“Yeah,” Tony’s muffled voice came through tears, “I’m okay buddy…and you’re gonna be okay too.” Tony began to rock them both, Peter was laying on Tony’s chest. Tony’s arms wrapped around him and pressing down on some of his wounds. The rocking was so soothing, so welcomed. They were hugging? Were they there now? Peter wanted to ask, but the soothing motion of Tony cradling him was just so relaxing. So Peter let himself fall back into darkness. He caught glimpses of things from then on. Bright white space, lots of yelling at one point, the pain coming back into focus but dying down again, machines beeping, soft voices saying his name and talking to him, but he couldn’t really make out what they were saying. Time passed but he had no real idea of knowing how much. Peter tried to focus, to bring himself back to understanding. Slowly, he began to take in more specific details.
There was a hand on his, that much he could tell now. And the beeping was still present. Peter tried to focus, his brain still felt like mush, but he began to hone in on his surroundings. The smell of disinfectant but also cologne and two different types of after shave. Peter’s left arm was heavier than all his body. There was a pain in his right side that stung when he tried to take a deep breath. Peter could count two other heartbeats outside of his own in the room. His whole body ached. There were two soft snoring noises on either side of him. The surface he was on, was soft enough to be comfortable. Blinking he began to clear his cloudy vision. Still the white walls, the tiles on the ceiling came more into focus. He recognized this ceiling, the medbay his brain provided. The room was well lit, bright white. He began to shift his gaze. On his left was Happy, arms crossed over his lap, head leaning down, snoring. With a movement slow enough not to make his head hurt, Peter turned to his right. Tony had his hand in Peters’, his head resting on the bed, leaning out of a chair.
Peter gave the hand a tiny squeeze, and Tony mumbled in his sleep. “Mssr-Stark.” rasping was the only way he could get his voice to work. Tony stirred a bit more and Happy stopped snoring. “Mssr Stark, need my hand…”Peter smiled weakly. Tonys’ head rose blearily looking at Peter, then it clicked. Suddenly Tony was grasping onto Peters’ hand and started at the boy with wide eyes.
“Underoos? Kid?” Stark leaned in closer just a bit. Peter gave a slight nod and smile.
“Tha’ss me” Peter smiled and turned his head when he heard Happy gasp. “Didn mean to wak ya Mr. Happ’sir.” Happy was at a loss for words just stared opened mouthed at Peter.
“Peter,” that was Tony again, soft spoken, “buddy how are you feeling?” Peter looked back at Mr. Stark, who was still half leaning on the bed half sitting in the chair.
“mmm, arm feels weird, and my side hurts, other than that, hunky dory.” Peters voice was nothing more than a croak now, but he still gave a small smile. “m a bit thirsty.” Happy stood up immediately and grabbed a glass of water. Peter sipped slowly, there was a tightness in his chest making it difficult to drink. “Thanks, mmsr happy sir”
“The kid’s even more polite on drugs than normal.” Happy gave a huff and sat back down once the water was finished.
“Pete, do you know where you are?” Tony brought his chair closer; he had let go of Peters’ hand. Peter already missed the contact.
“’ss the Medbay, ssir-Mssr’ Stark.” Peters’ head lolled a bit as he tried to find the glass of water again, he was still so thirsty.
“That’s right.” Tony said, pulling his chair up to the bed. “Do you remember what happened?”
Peter blinked, Tony coming in and out of focus, “school-building…collapse.” His head fell back into the pillows, his eyes drooping but he tried to fight it.
“Yeah kid, you had a whole fucking building on top of you.” Mr. Stark eyes seemed to be shiny. Peter couldn’t figure out why. “Underoos are you okay, I mean aside from obviously not, but still-” Tony sounded awkward, like he was trying but it didn’t sound quite right.
“’ss okay,” Peter sighed, “not the firs time.” His eyelids were so heavy, so when both Happy and Tony went stiff, he didn’t notice.
“Wh-what?” Happy’s voice was higher than normal, which made Peter try to turn to him. He shifted on to his elbow. But the movement was too quick and a stab of pain went through his head and a thumping pain in the casted arm. Clusmy he tried to rub his temples still pushing himself up to face Happy. “Easy kid, easy.” He still sounded shaken, but Happy placed a firm hand on Peters’ chest to push him back into the pillows. After a few quite moments when the pain faded a bit. Tony gave a sniff.
“So are you going to give us an explanation or just pass out on us again?” Tony was trying to sound aloof, like always, but even Peter could hear a slight emotional hitch to the question. Though Peter couldn’t figure out what.
“Huh?” Was the only sound Peter could make.
“The collapsed building, you said it wasn’t the first time kid, what the hell?” Happy asked as he pulled up his chair so he could be in Peter’s line of sight.
“Vulture-“ Peter gave a heave with his chest, “collapsed…warehouse on me…’s mean thing he did…no suit…couldn’t call…” Peter’s eyes closed, “…had Karen ‘this time though…not alone…’s time… you saved me…’m tired.” Peter relaxed into his pillows further. He could hear staggered breathing, was someone crying?
“Okay underoos, we are definitely talking about that when you are no longer on happy juice. Get some rest.” Tony ended with his voice soft and filled with sadness, but Peter didn’t mind so much. He was so comfortable. So he settled into the pillows and feel back into sleep as both Happy and Tony wiped forming tears from their eyes.