Chapter Text
“No.”
“But… Mr. Stark, hear me out, what if -”
“I said no, kid. I’m not very well known for changing my mind once it’s made up now, am I?”
“Sure aren’t” Peter mumbles in defeat and plops back onto the couch “But I swear, you don’t know what you’re missing. Watching “Back to the Future” twice in a row allows you to really take in all the small-“
“Kid. Just pick a different movie already.”
They are about halfway through “Ferris Bueller’s Day Off” when four high-pitched beeps interrupt the movie’s audio. “We are receiving an urgent mission alert, Sir” Friday explains “Mr. Rogers and the others are gathering in the briefing room, your presence has been requested.”
“Ugh, why now” Tony mumbles, setting the bowl of popcorn on the coffee table with a clear look of displeasure and pushes himself off the couch. He suddenly holds his hand up towards the kid who has been making to get up as well. ““Nu-uh”, he says “you are staying here.”
“Wha-? Mr. Stark, I can help! Last time you said I could help!”
“I said you could help with a mission, I didn’t say it would be the next one.”
“Come on, Mr. Stark, you know I’m just as strong as many of the others. You know I can help.”
“Kid, you-“
“Mr. Stark, please! I’m in top shape, you saw the freakin bank robbery I took care of by myself last week!”
Tony holds Peter’s determined gaze for a few seconds before he sighs “Fine. Come on, but we’ll decide after the brief, once we know what’s going on.”
Peter could barely contain his excitement. Is this what it was always like during a real mission brief? Seriously awesome descriptions of baddies, weapons, threats and the prospect of doing not just some but a shit ton of good for the civilians affected and the city and – you know- the world in general? Count me in, he thought.
“Spiderman’s abilities could actually be an invaluable asset with this one, Tones. The mission’s a moderate risk-level, it’ll be fine.”
Peter’s eyes glisten with exhilaration when he hears Captain Rogers’ words. He knows Tony can barely say no anymore now. And before he knows it, he’s sitting on the quinjet with the other Avengers, a 45 minute flight ahead of them.
Tony makes sure to use at least half the flight time to inculcate Peter with safety measures, emergency evacuation plans, and the millionth reminder of the need to follow instructions at all times. No exceptions.
And Peter takes everything to heart. He knows this mission is his chance to prove to Tony that he’s reliable and responsible. He’s heard enough admonishments from his mentor to know that this is the only way to get Tony to take him more serious as a fellow team member. Tony’s been continuously unimpressed by every however heroic, well-intended, self-sacrificing act Peter’s displayed during small missions and his own patrols. So today, he’ll be Mr. Responsible. He’ll be Captain Follow-Orders-To-A-T, heck, he’ll be nothing short of Make-Mr-Stark-Happy-Until-He-Sees-Me-As-An-Equal-Team-Member-Man”. And he is. He does what he’s told, he stands down in moments he’d rather get right into the action, he stays in his assigned position. And it’s exactly what does him in.
“Mr. Stark” there’s an urgency in Peter’s voice that Tony picks up on over the comms immediately “something’s not right, I can feel it, my spidey-“
Peter never gets to finish his sentence as an earth-shattering explosion rips through the building. Tony has to watch in horror as the force of the explosion slams Peter through a brick wall, as metal shards and shrapnel from the fragmentation bomb smash into every surface.
After a few seconds of silence, of everybody getting over the shock of the explosion and regrouping their own thoughts, all hell breaks loose over the comms. People shouting orders, demanding confirmation for everyone’s position, verifying each team-member’s well being. And soon everyone’s accounted for. Except one. Tony barely listens, he already knows. He already moved to where he last saw his kid. His mind completely void of any thought except “Peter” until he sees the blue and red figure, curled into themselves, but thankfully not buried under a pile of bricks as Tony was fearing. He pulls the mask off.
“Kid? Hey, it’s me. Underoos?” Peter stirs and opens his eyes. Thank fucking God, Tony thinks to himself. His anxiety slowly coming down. “Pete, look at me? Can you say something?”
Peter squeezes his eyes shut “Nggh” he grunts “my side”. Tony looks down to Peter’s torso and his breath hitches. There, lodged in the left side of Peter’s chest, sits a piece of angry looking metal, blood seeping out around the sides of it.
“You’re ok Underoos, you’re ok, we’ll fix this” he turns his attention back to his surroundings, having blocked out everything going on outside of his Peter-bubble. “I need med evac for Spiderman, he’s got a puncture wound to left upper torso. Bruce?”
“Copy, Tony, on it. I already got Natasha on board as well, her ankle was twisted in the explosion. Is he conscious?” Tony confirms as he hears Bruce starting up the quinjet in the background.
“Can you safely move him?”
“Yeah. Yeah I think I can” Tony manages, panic starting to swell in his chest as he looks at all the blood pooling below Peter’s body.
“Try to jostle him as little as possible, is the shrapnel still in?”
“Yes”
“Ok, don’t move it. Keep it in place. We’ll be right above your position in 2 minutes, you just need to fly him straight up, ok?.”
Peter is clearly in pain. He is squirming and writhing when Tony lays him down on the mini Med Bay bed on the jet. Bruce got to work right away.
“Hey, Peter? Hey, it’s me, Bruce. Can you look at me please?” Bruce is relieved to see that Peter is able to follow command, fully conscious, he hooks him up to heart monitor, blood pressure cuff and pulse ox, making sure to get a reading on all his vitals. “Do you remember the explosion at all?”
Peter just shakes his head. “Ok, that’s alright Pete. It could mean you lost consciousness for a little while. I’m going to shine this light in your eyes quickly, ok? Don’t be alarmed.” Bruce can barely get a clear look, Peter is absolutely restless, he won’t stay still on the bed but the result of the penlight test confirms Bruce’s assumption, probably a light concussion. Having made sure that Peter’s vitals were stable and he could rule out a serious head injury he loads a syringe “I’ll give you something for the pain first, ok Peter? Just to take the edge off. You’ll just feel a small poke”.
Bruce moves on to examining the puncture wound in Peter’s chest but even with the pain meds kicking in, Peter isn’t having it. He is still whining and tossing and turning, the heart monitor showing he is clearly agitated.
“Peter, can you stay still for me, buddy? We don’t want to exacerbate your injuries, alright?” he turns, now focusing on Tony. “Tony, I need you to get Cho on the line.”
FRI is already on it before Tony even had to say anything. Within seconds they have Cho on a holo screen. She must have been alerted before.
“Helen.” Both Bruce and Helen waste no time with pleasantries, a simple nod the only means of greeting “We’ve got a puncture wound to the left axilla on Peter. He’s GCS 15 but probable LOC earlier, pupillary light reflex points to mild concussion. Several small lacerations across the body. He’s hypotensive and showing signs of surgical emphysema.” He places the stethoscope on Peter’s chest, trying to be as gentle as possible around the wound and soothing the squirming boy while he asks him to take a few deep breaths “crackles in left lung”, he supplies while Tony tries to calm Peter down, brushing his fingers through his hair, gently cooing and shushing him. Bruce’s gloved hands lightly push down on Peter’s chest, moving around until his fingers eventually move up towards his neck and jaw “extended neck veins” he tells Helen.
“That’s a possible tension pneumothorax and cardiac tamponade Bruce, you need to-“
“I know, Helen,” he interrupts her before she can make things worse. Peter’s fully conscious and aware of what’s going on and is already extremely anxious, he doesn’t want Helen to aggravate him further with graphic descriptions of what’s happening or scary medical terms. This is why it’s sometimes harder to work with conscious patients than with those who aren’t, Bruce thinks.
“Ok Bruce, set everything up and push 2 Midaz, I’ll guide you through the procedure” Bruce gets to work, first inserting an IV cannula in Peter’s hand. He finally manages to place an oxygen mask over Peter’s mouth and nose, no easy feat with the way Peter is moving his head from side to side, and adjusts the oxygen flow. Eventually he loads a syringe with the Midazolam Cho requested and flicks it a couple of times with his finger, getting any bubbles out.
“Wh- What is that?“ Peter’s eyes are wide and fixated on the loaded syringe.
„Just a light sedative, Peter, it’ll make you feel a bit sleepy” Bruce says as he approaches Peter’s IV port with the syringe
“NO!” Peter jerks his hand away “Please, no!” he yells “Mr. Stark!” his eyes frantically searching his mentor’s.
“Shhh, Pete, don’t worry about it ok?“ Tony grabs Peter’s hand encouragingly “You won’t feel a thing, it’s only-“
“Please, no, please, I don’t want to go to sleep. Please Mr. Stark”
“Underoos, you don’t need to be scared, Bruce knows-“
“NO!” Peter was on the border of hysterics “NO!” He thrashes on the cot, ready to fight the next person to try to approach him with any sort of drug. The monitor’s alarms blearing as Peter’s heart rate goes haywire.
Bruce lowers the syringe and exchanges a concerned glance with Tony, who tries his best to calm the kid down.
“Pete, hey, bud, can you look at me? Hey, it’s me, shhh, look at me, ok?” he leans forward into the kid’s line of vision, gently touching a hand to his hair. When Peter finally obeys he tries to radiate as much sense of calm as he can muster, fighting hard to contain his own panic “Bruce already put it away. See? It’s all ok, you’re ok. No sedative, alright? Shhh, shhhh” he glances at the monitors, fingers carding through messy brown hair, relieved to see Peter’s heart rate slowly going down “Can you tell me what’s got you so worked up, Underoos?”
“I don’t want to go to sleep, please Mr. Stark, please don’t let him do this, please” he sobs “I can’t go to sleep, I don’t wanna go, I need to stay awake, I- please Mr. Stark, please help me”
Tony feels something constricting his chest upon hearing the sheer panic in Peter’s voice. The kid was scared to death of being put to sleep. Something wasn’t right. “Ok, bud, nothing you don’t want ok? You’re ok, shhh” He glances at Bruce and gives him a brief shake of his head, signaling that a sedative was out of the question.
Bruce nods his head in the direction of the door. They needed to speak. Urgently. Tony lets go of Peter’s hand reluctantly, leaving him with more soothing words and promises to be back in a second and Nat by his side instead.
“Tony, he needs sedation, he needs treatment and I can’t-“
“Were you not in the same place as I was just now?? He is scared shitless, we can not put him under. No. There has got to be a different way.”
“He’s got a significant tension hemopneumothorax, Tony, he needs a thoracostomy and I can’t just-“
“Speak goddamn English Bruce, I don’t know what any of that shit means!”
“It’s means he’ll fucking die before his healing factor even has a chance to kick in this time, Tony! It means his lung collapsed and air and blood are leaking into the space between his lung and chest and if I don’t shove my finger and a fucking tube in there he’ll die.” Tony stills at Bruce’s words. That guy never swears. He must be feeling just as desperate as Tony. “And I can’t do that while he’s so combative and agitated. He needs to calm down Tony, and it’s not happening without sedation.”
Tony feels like everything is becoming too much, something wasn’t right, Peter would rather be in excruciating pain than be put under, what was going on?
How can he make a decision about something like this? He runs his hands through his hair frantically looking around like he’ll find the answer to his problems written across a wall somewhere.
“Tony. Please.”
“He-, Bruce I can’t betray him like that, you heard him, didn’t you? He’s scared, something’s going on! I just told him no sedation and I-, I don’t know what to do!”
“Yes, I heard him, and that’s exactly why I’m concerned. His agitated state, it could-, it may well be a sign of possible lack of oxygen to the brain, a high-impact head injury could potentially have caused hypoxia.”
Tony’s eyes widen and Bruce thinks he hears a small whimper.
“You’re his legal guardian, Tony. I’m not going to make any medical decisions for him without your consent. But if we don’t do this, I don’t think we’ll manage to get a chest tube in, and if left untreated this is fatal.”
Tony’s eyes meet Bruce’s. He knows there can only be one right answer, but having to betray his kid’s trust like that is the hardest decision he’s ever had to make. And then again, it’s not. Because of course the right answer is not even debatable. “Ok” he whispers.
They return to the mini med bay on the med evac, Tony’s heart sinks when he finds Peter still restlessly squirming on the cot. When the kid’s eyes fall on his father-figure he whines and reaches his hands out “Mr. Stark” Tony’s heart melts “it hurts”.
“I know Petey-pie, I know. I’m here, I’ve got you ok? Bruce will give you something to make the pain better, right Bruce?”
Bruce doesn’t answer. He will not lie to a patient about their treatment. Ever. He approaches Peter’s bed, syringe in hand, glancing at Tony for the final go-ahead.
Peter looks uneasy, not leaving the syringe out of his sight “It’s just for the pain right, Mr. Stark? It won’t make me sleepy?”
“You’ll feel so much better after this, Pete. I promise.” Tony says, carding his hands through his kid’s hair, feeling devastated at having to lie to him like this and gives Bruce a small nod, prompting the latter to screw the syringe into Peter’s port and slowly push down.
It only takes a moment for the drug to start taking effect and Peter to notice something’s off. “Mr. Stark, I- what- is this, I- I feel so“ he gasps, his eyes widen in fear and desperation “please, I-, Mr. Stark, no! What did-” he trails off, his last words swallowed by a tidal wave of tiredness that sweeps over Peter as he realizes what’s happening. It’s only a few seconds but they feel like to longest of Tony’s life: Peter realizing what Tony allowed to happen, the hurt and betrayal etching lines around Peter’s face. A whispered last-effort “please” escapes Peter’s lips at the same time as a single tear does his eyes before he closes them and Tony thinks his heart can’t take it, can’t handle the look Peter gave him. One of anguish as much as disappointment.
Bruce doesn’t waste a second to get to work, he needs to take control of Peter’s breathing now that he is sedated. Natasha is ready and hands Bruce the intubation kit and Bruce doesn’t take long to correctly position the tube in Peter’s airways.
They get Cho back on the line, who instructs and guides him through the thoracostomy as best as she can remotely.
“Make a small incision at the 5th intercostal space slightly anterior to the mid axillary line. You need to get through the subcutaneous tissue and muscle to the pleural cavity.” Cho watches closely via video chat as Bruce works. He follows her instructions intently and eventually places the tube and secures it in place. “Well done” Cho finally says as the hissing sound the tube makes confirms it’s working and Bruce audibly releases a sigh of relief. The monitors confirms Peter’s oxygen saturation has gone up.
One thing taken care of, Cho is quick to move on: “You should see the surgical emphysema and swelling of the neck veins go down within the next few minutes. With the chest tube and his breathing under control I think his oxygen levels should be ok until you guys get here. We have the team and OR ready. What’s your ETA?
“ETA is 32 minutes, Dr. Cho”, FRIDAY supplies.
“Good. Call me if there are any, and I mean any changes to his vitals.” Bruce nods and as the line disconnects his eyes search Tony’s. Tony, who’s crumpled down on a chair off to the side, head in his hands, shoulders heaving with silent sobs.
“Tony,” he carefully starts “he’s stable now, this was the right decision. He might not have made it another half hour.”
Tony nods but can’t get any words out. He knows if he opened his mouth now everything he’d been holding back would break free. He can’t help but feel like this is the quiet before the storm. Bruce has done everything now that he can with the limited possibilities of the quinjet. But once they make it to med bay who knows what would await the kid. Starting with MRI’s and X-rays to figure out the exact path and damage the shrapnel caused followed by a life-saving surgery, and a potentially long period of recovery depending on what damage they find. And on top of that he would have to deal with the one thing Peter’s healing factor wouldn’t be able to fix: a broken promise and trust.