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The agony was stunning.
Peter let out a choked gasp as he came to, his vision blurry around the edges and gray, his lungs heaving with effort. The sky above him was dark, the light pollution from the city blocking out any stars and the grungy pavement of the alley was cool through the fabric of his suit.
He couldn’t remember what happened, Peter realized as he panted and tried to control his respirations, his gasps bordering on hyperventilation. He fought through the pain to inhale deeply and then exhale slowly before trying again. His brain was already foggy around the edges and he could feel himself going into shock. If he didn’t do what he could to calm down now he would pass out again from lack of oxygen before he could get help.
“Peter!” Karen’s panicked voice broke through his delirium and gave him something to focus on. “My sensors indicate your stats are dropping. You need too give me verbal permission to contact Mr. Stark.”
Peter nearly groaned. He had probably fucked up by having Ned rework Karen’s code to not contact Mr. Stark in emergencies without his go ahead. He wasn’t sure if he could even talk.
“Peter I need your confirmation.” Karen repeated, Tony’s contact info flashing up onto his HUD.
“C-confirm,” Peter stuttered out, wrapping his arms around his tender middle and gagging as his vision whited out. Note to self – don’t touch chest or abdomen. What had happened? He remembered telling May bye as she left for her late shift, pulling on the suit and swinging through Queens. He remembered stopping a couple muggings, giving some directions and rescuing a cat from a fire escape.
“Happened?” He forced out, trying to keep his breathing steady and not clench his muscles. As he was becoming more aware, his nausea was growing.
“Your web snapped and you fell. You’re going into shock Peter, you need to stay calm. Mr. Stack is on his way and will be here in five minutes, please following the breathing prompts on you HUD.” Karen said, his HUD screen going blank aside from inhale and exhale prompts which he lost himself in following. After he let out a strangled whine, Karen added a countdown timer in the corner with Tony’s estimated arrival.
It seemed to Peter that each second on the timer lasted exponentially longer than it should, his breathing getting more and more shaky and Karen’s disembodied voice getting more and more frantic as she tried to get and keep his attention. When the red warning lights began to flash on his HUD he squeezed his eyes shut and started drifting, his awareness coming in waves.
“Peter! I’m here, open your eyes!”
A blinding pain as he was shifted into cold arms.
The sound of repulsers firing and the feeling of gravity intensifying, his vision again going white with the pain of movement.
Nothing…
Nothing…
Darkness. And then light burning his retinas as some held his lid open and shined a light in his eyes, the feeling of being moved, pain, pain, pain.
“I know it hurts Pete but I need you to stay with me. You took a hit kiddo, but we’re going to fix you up. It’s okay.”
“Tony,” Peter whimpered out, his brain swirling in colorful circles and his hand tightened around the warm hand in his. When did that happen?
“Tony you need to let go. We’ve got him,” A female voice cut through the background noise and Tony’s hand was pulled away. Peter’s fingers twitched but it took too much energy to open his eyes, to move.
He vaguely remembered bright lights shining through his lids, an oxygen mask fitting over his mouth and nose and then, blessedly, nothing.
Some indeterminate time later, awareness started to trickle slowly back in. While Peter could still feel some level of pain, it more resembled the aches that came with the flu or heavy physical activity. His head felt loose of his shoulders and too big for his body and he could tell that he must be on his IV pain medications. Between that and the feeling of the soft hospital gown against his skin and the quiet beeping of a machine close by he could only determine that he was in the MedBay.
It took some time for his brain to absorb and process this information and he waffled for some time as to the benefit of pushing through to full awareness and opening his eyes. He could hear steady breathing from next to him and the slightly arrhythmic beat of Tony’s heart and decided he may as well face the music.
“Mr. Stark,” he managed to croak out, his throat dry and burning and his lids to heavy to open past half mast.
“Hey Webs,” Tony said, relief heavy in his voice as he startled slightly, tossing his StarkPad onto the bedside table and leaning forward to run careful fingers through Peter’s hair before letting it rest of his cheek, thumb rubbing softly back and forth across his cheekbone. “How are you feeling? Any pain?”
“No?” Peter answered in a questioning tone. He was so tired he wasn’t really feeling anything beyond the occasional ache that generated from his center. “What happened?”
Tony signed and moved from the chair to sit carefully next to him on the bed, facing him. “Do you remember anything?”
“Karen said my web snapped?” Peter muttered, blinking and struggling to get his eyes back open.
“Yeah,” Tony answered, surveying Peter and clearly fighting with himself as to whether or not insist Peter go back to sleep. “The brick it attached to cracked and compromised the web,” Tony started, clearly deciding to answer his questions to Peter’s relief. “You hit the edge of a building as you fell and skidded down the side of a wall before you hit the alley. You saved your head for the most part and only have a minor concussion but the impact caused a splenic rupture. You had some pretty severe internal bleeding.”
“Dr. Cho fixed it?”
“Well,” Tony drew out the word and worried at his bottom lip for a split second, one of his very few tells. “It was a grade IV splenic rupture. Even with your healing ability she wouldn’t have been able to repair it so she removed it.”
Peter probably should have felt a lot more worried and upset than he was but he could tell that the drugs he was on were keeping him relaxed. “They took it out?” Peter asked, dazed, head spinning and exhaustion pulling at the frayed edges of his mind.
“It’ll be okay Peter,” Tony soothed, hand returning to Peter’s hair and combing through it slowly to relax him. “You might have to make a couple adjustments, but you can live without a spleen. Your recovery should be pretty quick, just a couple weeks of bed rest and you’ll be back swinging.”
“Promise?” Peter asked groggily, eyes slipping shut finally and awareness beginning to fade.
“Would I lie to you?” Tony asked, a touch of amusement in his voice. “Go to sleep Underoos, I’ll see you when you wake up.”
And, with that comforting thought, Peter allowed his body to relax as he slipped away into blissful sleep.