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Michelle threw her head back, an embarrassing laugh bursting out of her as she slapped her knee between snorts.
Peter was singing - yelling was probably a better description of the sound currently coming out of his mouth - as he swung his head from side to side vigorously.
’All Star’ had come on the radio while they were driving, and excitedly Peter had dialled the volume up, so the lyrics were blasting out of the speakers of the old, run-down car. It was when he attempted to rap, his hands flying out in animated gestures that Michelle really lost it, her loud laughs turning into silent wheezes.
“Stop, stop. Seriously, I’m gonna pee - “
Peter couldn’t contain his laugh either, one hand still tightly on the wheel as the other held his aching stomach. “Wow, my singing really that bad, huh?”
“You sounded like my hoover when it gets jammed - ” Michelle wiped the tears from her eyes, still trying to contain her giggles.
Peter snorted, and hesitantly reached out a hand, giving her thigh a soft squeeze because he liked the contact. He and Michelle had been together for about eight months, and Peter could say with his whole heart, that he was absolutely, undeniably on love with her. Sure, he hadn’t breathed a word of these feelings to anyone, least of all her, but he was working up to it.
Michelle’s heart fluttered at the hand on her thigh, and she tried to hide her smile behind her hand. She had a reputation, after all.
His eyes flickered to the large trophy in the backseat, strapped in with a seat belt because he insisted that ‘his baby needed to be protected’. “I think this has been our best win yet. Shame Tony didn’t get to see you nail that last question, though.”
Michelle hummed, “I have the recording on my phone. He can watch the whole thing when we get to the lake house.”
Peter was giddy with excitement. It had been a couple of months since he had last visited the lake house, and with the hot weather he couldn’t wait to go swimming with Morgan. He and Tony were closer than ever, with the whole ‘dying and coming back to life’ thing, and the man was filling the empty spot that Uncle Ben had left. In no means could he ever replace Ben, but he made the hurt burn a little less. Tony was family.
Plus, this was Michelle’s first time coming to the lake house, and therefore her first-time meeting Morgan.
“Speak of the devil.” Peter said as his phone lit up, Tony’s caller ID on the screen. He handed the phone off to Michelle, keeping his eyes on the clear roads. It was getting dark, and they were winding up a more mountainous area, he didn’t want to risk running any deer over.
Michelle swiped across the screen, putting it on speak mode and holding it up.
“Hey, Tony!” Peter exclaimed.
“Underoos! How’s my favourite young adult?” Tony voice filtered through the call, warm and comforting as ever.
“Great! MJ and I are on our way - maps say we should get there in, like, an hour or two.”
“Sup, Stark.” Michelle cut in coolly.
”Ah, Miss Jones! Peter’s one true love, his knight in shining armour, his - “
“Tony!” Peter spluttered, feeling the tips of his ears redden.
“Anyway, just checking in - hey, Morgan!” Mischievous giggling could be heard through the line, no doubt by Morgan, wreaking havoc like she usually was. “Don’t dip my tie in the frosting! No -! …you little demon child. ”
Another shriek of laughter sounded, followed by feet slapping against tiles and Peter couldn’t help but chuckle.
“ As I was saying, before I got interrupted by this little gremlin, I was just checking in to see if you’re both good with eating burgers tonight, and don’t worry, I got some of that veggie shit for Jones ‘cause I know she’s a vegan - which is despicable, by the way, but I’ll let it slide for Pete - anyway, anyway, Morgs' is going through one of her phases where she refuses to eat anything but cake pops - which is bad, I know, but we’re hoping if you’re there then -“
Peter tuned out Tony’s voice as he heard the sound of screeching tires skidding across pavement in the distance, thanks to his super hearing, and automatically applied the breaks a little, slowing down. There were no streetlamps, and with just mountainous terrains lining the sides of the road it was extremely dark, with him just having to rely on the car lights.
“ - and, believe me, you do not want to be at the receiving end of one of her tantrums because, good god, are they a handful - Kid? Are you even listening to your dear old mentor?”
“What’s wrong?” Michelle said, noticing the way Peters eyebrows had pulled together in concentration.
He didn’t reply, straining his ears and staring ahead at the dark road, not being able to see very far in front of him.
"Kid?”
Peter just shrugged, opting to drive at a slower pace until the path became more visible. “I thought I heard - “
Peter was abruptly cut off, because all at once the tingling at the base of his neck shrieked, stabbing into his skin in a way that screamed DANGER, DANGER, and a van was hurtling towards them at a dizzying speed, emerging from the darkness out of nowhere as the screeching of tires invaded his senses and he was momentarily blinded by lights.
Things seemed to happen in slow motion, when really it was a second at most. Peter’s body went into overdrive, the only instinct running through his mind , and he snapped his seat belt off, using all of his strength to throw himself over the girl he loved.
Just as his body reached hers, arms reaching to shield her head, a force unlike anything he had felt slammed into them just as Michelle let out a strained scream.
Everything happened so quickly and so suddenly he barely registered what was happening, only catching glimpses of their car twisting and turning in the air, of glass shattering and cutting into his cheek, of thuds and bangs and jolts that made burst of pain light up everywhere, of snapping branches and flying dirt -
Of his hand cradling Michelle's head, of her fingers desperately clinging to his back, of her yelps and cries and her sudden quietness, of his innate need to protect her from everything, do everything in his power to keep her safe.
But it wasn’t enough, because a final, earthshattering and deafening impact had his arms being ripped from hers, his fingers still stretched out, longing to hold her again, before his body connected with the roof of the car, so brutally and forcefully that everything snapped to darkness at once.
“Peter! Kid? Talk to me!”
“Pete, please.”
“Kid!”
“Peter, what’s going -“
***
When Michelle awoke, it was to a painful pressure against her chest and waist that made it hard to pull in any air, each breath coming out as strained wheezes and fast pants. Her head was pounding, as if her brain was expanding and it was suddenly to big for her skull, and that’s when she faintly realised that the warmth spreading down her cheeks must have been blood.
It took all of her concentration to pull her eyelids apart, and even then the only thing she registered was swirling color and black dots making her vision fuzzy. It slowly started to clear, morphing shapes fading in and out till she could finally see.
But the sight made her feel sick.
The unrelenting pressure against her chest and the pain in her head now made sense, because she realised with a pitiful groan that she was actually upside down, her body still pressed against the car seat, kept in place by a seatbelt that was biting into her skin.
Michelle remembered breaking her wrist in fourth grade. She had been on the swings at the park, giggling and kicking as she yelled at her dad ’Faster! Faster!, until she kicked her legs to harshly, her balance going as she hurtled onto the floor below. She remembered crying, holding the injured limb to her chest and refusing to let go when the paramedics came, her stubbornness always prominent.
And now, as Michelle struggling to pull in a panicked breath, she was sure she must have broken a rib, because the burning sensation that was pulsating in her middle felt just how it did all those years ago.
As she hung, trying to drag her arms to her chest to alleviate some of the pressure from the seatbelt, she couldn’t help but notice how painfully quiet it was. She could hear the rustling of the leaves in the wind, and the creak of metal every now and then, but for some reason it felt so damn silent, such a contrast from what it had been before, when… when….
The memories crashed into her all at once. The van coming out of nowhere, the enormous force sending the car swerving off the road, tumbling and twisting and crashing, her head colliding with metal, hands gripping her, a body protecting her -
“M-MJ?”
Michelle’s eyes snapped open, a deep-rooted worry forming in her gut at hearing Peter’s voice - how could she forget, even for a moment, how could she forget he was here with her? His voice sounded strained, slightly panicked (which wasn’t surprising), and eerily quiet, like he couldn’t manage more than a whisper.
She paid no attention to the way her head pounded harder when her eyes scanned the area, only now realising how much of a wreck the car really was. Even upside down she could see how the sides had crumped and caved in, shattered glass covering the roof of the ground which had now become her floor. The vehicle was mangled beyond recognition, so much so she could barely see anything around her, hanging car parts and the dark of the night making it difficult to make out anything.
But then, as she squinted her eyes, she saw him.
Peter. Her Peter.
The relief was overwhelming and paired with the blood that was still rushing to her head after being hung upside down for God-knows how long, she almost passed out there and then. She forced herself to blink the tiredness away, letting it soak in that he was here, and he was alive. From what she could make out, he was about a metre to the left and below her, lying on the roof of the car. She could still barely see him because of the dark, and because of the way the car had been mangled, she could only see the silhouette of his head, his body disappearing behind debris below his shoulders.
“MJ?” He stuttered again, slightly more panicked but still just as strained.
It was only then that Michelle realised she had yet to say anything and immediately felt guilty for worrying him. Her throat was scratchy, and pushing out words with broken ribs was harder than she thought it would be, but finally she managed a small, “Peter?”
She could hear the stutter in his breath, as he craned his neck to look in the direction of where her voice was coming from. “MJ - I, oh my god, I thought, I thought -“
“Peter.” She didn’t know why she said it again, but she couldn’t help herself, the relief making her eyes moist at hearing he was alive. “Peter, I-I, Peter.”
Michelle never said his name. It was always loser, or nerd, or dipshit, but now she couldn’t say it enough, like she was trying to reassure herself that he was actually there.
It scared her that Peter wasn’t moving, wasn’t sitting up and fumbling his way over to her like she knew he usually would, desperate for physical contact. He had moved his head a little, a few inches at most, but nothing more as if he couldn’t physically do so. She hated not being able to see him, it was still too dark to see anything other than his outline, and even that was hard to make out with the blood rushing to her head.
“MJ, I - are you, are you okay?” He said urgently, his voice high in pitch and laced with terror.
In any other situation Michelle would have lied, put up a front to maintain her tough image, but she could hear the raw fear in the way his voice cracked, and decided he deserved honesty. “I, uh, I think the seat belt broke a rib, and I must have hit my head at some point, but I think I’m okay.” She squinted, seeing how he was trying to turn to her but couldn’t twist his head far enough. “I’m still in the seat - upside down.” She paused. “Are you okay?”
His breath hitched and Michelle felt her chest hurt with panic.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.” Peter finally stuttered out, his words raspy and weak.
“Don’t lie to me.” She said, firmer than she meant to.
“MJ, I-“ He broke off, like the truth was too terrible to voice aloud. She could hear the anxiety in the way his voice cracked with every word. “I can’t move. Something’s wrong, I can’t - I can’t move!”
Shit. Michelle’s head swam, a debilitating mixture of dread and the symptoms of a concussion. She needed to get to him.
“Okay,” She tried to keep herself collected, so as not to distress her boyfriend further. “It’s okay. Stark must know we crashed by now. He’ll be on his way over, he will. Everything’s f-“
Peter groaned, the sound escaping his mouth before he could clamp it shut. It was obvious he was trying to ride out waves of pain, and any hope Michelle had that he was just stuck but unharmed was squashed in an instant.
“What’s wrong?” Not being able to see was becoming unbearable, she needed to know. “Come on, be straight with me. Injury report, now.”
It was something she often said after Peter had a bad patrol, letting him know that if he lied in any way, she’d be selling all of his Spider-Man boxers.
“I don’t - I don’t know.” He stuttered, growing panicked at the agony suddenly coursing through his body. Michelle could just about make out his head trying to lift upwards, shaking with the effort of just trying to look down. But Michelle didn’t need to be able to see to know it was bad, because suddenly Peter gasped, his breathes coming out in short pants as he became hysterical staring down at the rest of his body which was hidden from Michelle’s view.
“Oh god, shit - fuck,” he whimpered brokenly, letting his head flop back onto the roof off the car, exhausted from the small movement.
“Talk to me, Parker.” His reaction was scaring her, she didn’t mean to become cold and demanding all of a sudden but she just needed to know.
Peter squeezed his eyes shut, his teeth clenched tightly together to stop from screaming. “My legs - “ He pushed out between panicked breaths. “They’re - fuck - and the, the blood, it’s - it’s everywhere. I can’t, nnghh, the metal is - it’s, it’s - “
His words broke off with a loud sob, desperate and full of agony. Michelle knew if he wasn’t so delirious, he would be holding back to cries, and definitely not breathing a word of his injured state to her.
She swallowed her worry, and cautiously lifted her hand to where her seatbelt was somehow still locked in. “I’m gonna come to you, don’t move, just - hold on.”
“Be careful.” He managed to push out, his chest rising and falling quickly.
Michelle tried to even her breathing, shutting her eyes at the dread of how much this was about to hurt, and lifting her other arms up so it was ready to cushion her fall. All at once, she jammed her fingers in the fastener, the seat belt snapping off quickly as her body fell.
The impact was agonising, and she yelped at the pain in her midsection, her mind going to black for a few seconds. When she came to a few seconds later, she was lying face down on the roof of the car, her arm squished beneath her, and palm imbedded with glass shards that stung. She moaned as she tried to push herself upwards, not aware of anything much other than the pain radiating everywhere.
“ - talk to me, please, MJ - Em, oh god - please - “
His voice faded in and out for a few seconds as Michelle put everything she had into not passing out.
“Shh.” She whispered after a while, lifting a hand to her pounding head and resuming her efforts of pushing herself up.
“Fuck, thank god - don’t you dare do that again.” Peter breathed, his voice sounding wet. Maybe she had passed out for more than a few seconds…
Despite the life-threatening situation she still managed to roll her eyes at his protectiveness. “Keep your panties on, Loser, I’m fine.” It was an obvious line, but she hoped Peter chose to believe it for his mental stability right now. She still couldn’t see him but she could feel through his voice that he was moments from losing it.
Trying to avoid embedding more glass into her palms, she hesitantly shuffled along the roof of the car, pulling her aching body across the crumpled metal. It creaked every now and then, but she was just glad the whole car didn’t shift, or more metal didn’t start to give away. Then, she mustered all her strength and managed to lift herself up into a crawling position, manoeuvring herself around the compact space. She could hardly see outside, metal and hanging parts obscuring her view, but from what she could guess they were in a ditch, and she started to worry about how the hell they would get out. She pocketed away that thought to obsess over later.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity of slow movements that made her exhausted, she reached Peter’s head, finally seeing his features in the low light. It was only now that she could see how his eyes were wide with pain and fear, his pupils drinking in the sight of her and not leaving her face. There were bits of glass cutting into his cheeks, but nothing too serious. What was more concerning was the fresh tear tracks standing out against the dirt and grime on his skin - she never saw Peter cry.
“Hey.” Michelle said, managing a small smile for him. Even though it made her ribs spike with pain from her crawling position, she reached a gentle hand forward and pushed away the sweaty hair from his face, a comforting gesture she knew he would appreciate.
Peter sucked in a small breath. “Don’t look.” He wheezed, a hand coming up to cling onto her wrist, desperate for her to understand. “Please, don’t.”
Michelle stilled in her movement, suddenly petrified to look down at the rest of his body. She had been so relieved to finally be near him, finally hold him that for a moment she forgot about his condition - which she knew nothing about.
But Michelle never listened to Peter, she was too stubborn and too strong-willed to take orders from a man, and that didn’t stop with Peter. Curiosity killed the cat, after all.
Her eyes drifted downward, and she felt everything stop at once.
Michelle had never been squeamish, becoming desensitised to blood and gore along time ago after binging all the horror movies she could find. But seeing it on one of the most important people to her in the world? If she wasn’t so frozen still with shock, she probably would have thrown up, or passed out, or screamed at the image before her, but all she could muster was to stare in silence.
Peter’s legs were broken, to start with. The metal of the car had caved in and crumpled around his limbs, leaving him completely trapped. But they weren’t just broken, she could clearly see the bone jutting out of the right one in a compound fracture more severe than anything she had ever seen, while the other was completely twisted the wrong way, both pant legs coated in sticky blood.
As if that wasn’t enough, she could see a large chunk of metal, as long as her forearm embedded in his abdomen, and judging by the blood that was pooling underneath him, it was protruding out the other side as well. Now that she could see it, the stench of blood hit her at full force, and she had to supress a gag.
Taking a few breathes to compose herself, her eyes wandered back to Peter, who had gone silent. His eyes were squeezed shut, his head tilted back slightly, as he tried to ride out the agony.
“I know - I know it’s bad.” He managed, still keeping his eyes firmly screwed shut.
Michelle swallowed. “No it’s - you’re just being dramatic is all.” The joke fell flat, and she winced, not even able to follow it up with a chuckle. She gathered his limp hands in hers, rubbing soothing circles over his knuckles. “Hey - hey, look at me.” His eyes slowly drifted to hers, unshed tears making them glisten. “It’s gonna be okay. We can fix this - Stark can fix this, and he’ll be here any minute - any second now.”
All of a sudden, peter’s eyes shot open and he tried to lift his head, urgently. “Gas.” He blurted. “What if there’s - what if there’s gas? You need to get out now, g-go!”
“I’m not leaving you.” Michelle responding without even having to think because never, never in a million years would she leave him.
Peter shook his head, sting clawing at her wrists. “You have to, please - go, I'll be fine - just, just go.”
Michelle was still shaking her head, stubborn as ever. “You must have some serious brain damage if you think -“
“, Em.” Michelle paused, her eyes locking with his. “We both know I’m too trapped to move, and I - I can’t lose you too. Please.”
“Can you smell gas?”
Peter looked at her in confusion and disbelief. “Well, I don’t - maybe, I don’t know - “
“You can’t, right?”
He didn’t say anything, just continued to stare up at her.
“If any gas had leaked, you’d be able to smell it. I know you would, because your senses so enhanced you can smell bunt toast from across the road. And Peter, I trust you. There is no gas. We have time.”
Michelle hoped it was enough. Of course, relying on a severely injured spider kid who could barely lift his hands or string together a full sentence to assess the damage of their car was stupid. If there was gas, there would be a good chance that Peter would be too concussed and delirious to notice it. But if Peter believed they weren’t in immediate danger, that was all that mattered. Sure, being trapped a confined space that could potentially blow up at any moment was horrifying, but leaving Peter in here alone was even more horrifying.
Slowly, Peter nodded, his chest evening out into calmer breathes. Well, as calm as he could manage with two broken legs and a chunk of metal sticking out of his stomach. “Mr Stark, is he c-coming?”
Michelle bit her lip but forced a neutral expression onto her face. In truth, she had no idea if Stark was coming. There was no way to know if he had their location, or if he was even on his way. She was completely helpless. “Of course, he is.”
Peter seemed to relax at that, letting his hand go limp in hers.
“In fact, let’s give him a call, shall we?” Michelle grit her teeth as she reached for the pocket in her jacket, praying that her phone wasn’t destroyed beyond use.
She nearly let out a hysterical laugh when the smashed screen lit up, and a hundred notifications flooded the device. Peter was looking at her out of the corner of his eye, as if just moving his head was agonizing - which she realised it probably was.
Ignoring the countless calls from Stark, she pulled up the billionaires number and let it ring, putting it on speaker phone.
“Michelle? Peter?” Came the immediate reply. She could hear through the man’s voice that he knew something was wrong, could hear the desperation and fear leaking through the tone.
“Stark.” Michelle responded dumbly, too relieved to think of anything else.
”What’s going on, talk to me.”
Michelle sucked in a breath. “The car - it, we, it wasn’t our fault - the van, it came out of nowhere, I swear - “
”Look, I know you are probably in shock right now, but I need you to focus. I’m on my way now and FRIDAY says I’m about an hour or so out - but I need to know if either of you are injured.”
Michelle and Peter made eye contact, a million unsaid words floating between them. Where would she begin? How could she explain this to the already frantic man on the other side of the line?
She took to long to answer, and Peter seemed to be in too much pain to say anything, and she could hear the heavy breathing from Stark grow more erratic. “Michelle? You’re kind of freaking me out over here. Is it Peter? Is he okay?”
Still Michelle said nothing, unable to push the words out as if somehow that would make the whole situation a reality, as if saying it aloud meant she had to come to terms with the possibility that Peter could die in front of her, crushed by the remains of his Aunt’s old car. “We need help.” She forced out, eventually.
“You’re hurt.” Tony stated, his voice suddenly going robotic. “Kid? Can you hear me?”
Peter cleared his throat, which only resulted in blood smearing along his bottom lip, sending Michelle's panic into overdrive. “Y-yeah. You gotta hurry, Mr Stark.”
”Thank god. You better not be dead by the time I get there; you hear me? What’s the situation?”
“It’s bad.” Peter stuttered, his voice trembling and lacking it’s usual banter. “You just, you gotta get here quickly. Get MJ out, alright? Get her out first.”
”Shit. You’re still in the car?”
“We’re trapped.” Michelle swallowed, not liking the glazed look that was taking over Peter’s eyes. She gripped his hand a little tighter.
Peter’s head thrashed back and forth, not able to keep still as he writhed in pain. “It, god, it hurts - I want out. I need to get out, Em, please - make it stop, I -
“Peter, calm down.”
“Kid! What’s going on?”
Peter sobbed, clenched Michelle’s hand so tightly she thought he might break a bone. But it was obvious he wasn’t aware of much other than the pain. “You need to get out, before the gas - you need to go, please, I-I can’t lose you too - I can’t, I -“
His words blead into a horrifying scream, so loud and torturous that Michelle had to look away, ignoring the shouts from Stark through the phone as she struggled to keep herself composed. She could see why he screamed now, as in his struggle to get away he had moved to suddenly, and the metal lodged in his stomach had shifted, digging further into his flesh.
Michelle frantically placed both her hands on his chest, grateful he had let go of her hand before he crushed it and tried to force his wriggling body back down. It worked, miraculously, as he slowed his struggles, his dazed eyes blinking open to stare at her.
“You’re okay, you’re okay. I’m here, right here, shh. It’s okay.” She whispered, not stopping when he lay still.
“- talk to me, please, what’s going on. Is he okay? What’s happening?”
“It’s fine.” Michelle blurted, which was definitely not the truth. “Momentary freak out, but we’re back in control.”
“What the hell happened?”
Michelle ignored the question. “Stark, get your iron butt over her, now.” She spared a look at Peter’s pale face, his bloodshot eyes, and realised he no longer heard what they were saying. She lowered her voice. “I don’t know how much longer he can keep going.”
“Keep him awake. Don’t let him fall unconscious.” she could here the man’s voice breaking. “I’m nearly there. FRI boost thrusters to 110%. I’m nearly there, just hang - “
The line went dead. They were sent into an eerie silence. Michelle snapped her gazed back to the phone, finding the screen had gone completely blank - damn, shitty battery. She felt her breath quicken, not being able to handle her only form of communication with help being suddenly swiped from her.
“Stark?” She demanded, even though she knew it was useless, her voice cracking more than she liked, “Don’t do this, goddammit!” She bashed her phone against the ground, praying that it would speak some life into the dead device, but it remained blank.
It was starting to rain, Michelle noticed, the gentle thrum of the droplets hitting the metal providing a strange tranquillity in the cramped space. The water leaked and ran down the sides like tiny rivers of peace, occasionally splashing onto her hair and sending a chill through the air.
A gentle hand traced along her jaw delicately, and she looked down. “It’s okay,” Peter whispered, his face finally not etched into pain. She had a feeling that wasn’t a good sign.
Michelle shook her head, feeling a tear drip from her eyelashes, splashing onto Peter’s finger. She dragged her eyes up, looking into his and felt her lip tremble.
Somehow, he managed a small smile, like he was finally at peace. “I love you.”
Michelle felt her breathe stutter at his words, a hundred emotions making it hard to breathe. “Shut up.” She bit back, suddenly so extremely angry. He couldn’t do this to her, she wouldn’t allow it.
“I love you so much.” His voice cracked. Then it hit her - he was saying goodbye.
“No, shut up.” Her throat hurt. Dizziness was making the world tilt, so she focused on his sluggish eyes, his slightly parted lips, his thumb tracing her cheek. “Stop - just, why are you saying this now? You’re supposed to wait - you’re supposed to plan something super soppy and cheesy that I’ll make fun of you for, but secretly enjoy because I know how much you like the romantic shit.”
Breathing was starting to hurt, and she didn’t even realise that her hands were tugging at his shirt, the fabric round his chest bunched up in her fist. “You-you’re only supposed to say that when you’re sure, when you’re sure that we have forever so when we think of stupid names for our first pet, or fight over the paint colour of our first apartment, or-or plan our whole future together that it actually means something, that it isn’t just one, big, delusional lie because I can’t do that. So, just, shut up - shut up and save it. Save it for when you mean forever.”
Peter had gone quiet, still staring up at her with teary eyes. Slowly, he smiled, like he knew that he didn’t have long left, but he was okay with that.
“I love you.” He breathed, again, and Michelle’s hand tightened around the fabric of his shirt, angry that he wasn’t listening, that he didn’t understand she couldn’t do this, that she couldn’t watch him d-
“Forever.”
Forever. He loved her. Forever.
The anger, the frustration, the hatred flooded out of her at once, and she dipped her head to to his shoulder, finally letting the tears fall. Grief was already starting to take root in her chest and it burned.
Michelle summoned all her strength and took a deep breathe, lifting her head to meet his eyes. “I love you - “
She broke off, the air being stolen from her lungs because his eyes were closed, Peter’s eyes were closed and he was barely moving, he was so still, and his eyes were closed, and she didn’t tell him she loved him too, he wouldn’t know, he would die and he wouldn’t know.
She sobbed. Her head fell back into the crook of his neck and she wailed, clutching onto his body like a lifeline.
A mechanical hum of noise had her head snapping up, her cries breaking off. She tried to twist round, knowing it must be Stark, finally, but still could hardly see anything.
“Stark!” She shouted at the top of her voice, too desperate and frantic to care if her guard had been dropped. “Stark! Down here!”
Sobbing again, Michelle gasped in relief as she saw two metal boots land with a thud on the dirt and leaves just outside the car, never so grateful to see the gold and red colours.
***
Tony was scanning the road, as he switched up the flashlights connected to his gauntlets to a maximum intensity, struggling to see much through the darkness of the night and the smoke that was wafting through the air.
Logically, Tony knew he needed to come down. A small voice in the back of his head was screaming at him that he needed to chill the ef out, because he needed to be collected and efficient when he found the kids. But that voice was currently being drowned out by the terrifying scenarios and what-ifs whirling through his head like a damn hurricane.
How was he supposed to stay calm when he had heard the screeching of tires and glass shattering before the line had gone dead? How was he supposed to stay calm when he’d heard Peter sob and groan and scream through the phone as a result of an injury that he knew nothing about?
The kid could be dead already - dead, a lifeless corpse, a pile of useless flesh and bone, a shell of the boy he saw as a son -
“Boss, you are exhibiting signs of a panic attack, you must calm down.”
But he couldn’t, images of Peter’s dead body flashing through his head, and it didn’t help that he still couldn’t see anything through the smoke. “I don’t know how to calm the fuck down, FRI!”
For a moment FRIDAY stayed quiet, and Tony wouldn’t have been surprised if his challenging personality had managed to push away a frickin’ A.I, but then she broke the silence. “I’ve detected three life forms, but I believe one to be deceased.”
Tony’s heart leapt into his throat and he waisted no time in diving down to the road, using scanners to try filter through the darkness. He didn’t have to look for long though as the carnage of the crash quickly came into view, a crumpled and wrecked van lying on its side, illuminating the space around it with a raging fire. Sparing a glance through the window, Tony saw a man slumped over the steering wheel, his skin completely charred and mangled beyond recognition. He was dead, there was no doubt about it.
And maybe Tony was selfish, but he released a shaky breath of relief, because if this was the deceased one, that meant that Peter and Michelle were still alive. Still alive.
Bits of smashed beer bottles surrounded the dead man and Tony felt a surge of anger. Drunk drivers.
“Two o’clock, Boss.”
Tony swirled around to the direction, and his flashlights lit up the dark skid marks on the road, veering off and disappearing down… down the side of the rocky hills. He was stumbling forward to the edge, scared - terrified to look down, but he did anyway, didn’t waist a second.
He spotted the car straight away. Mounds of dirt and fallen debris littered the destructive pathway the car seemed to have taken, trees having snapped and heavy branches laying on top of the mangled mess of metal. The car was upside down, and he could only tell because of the lone tire that had managed to stay intact, but he could see how the car must have twisted and flew with dizzying forces as it tumbled down, before coming to an abrupt stop at the bottom of the ditch.
The rain was getting heavier, starting to beat the pavement and collect in puddles. Dirt was becoming thick, grimy mud and he could see the debris sinking into it slowly.
“Stark!” Came a desperate, terrified scream from below and Tony snapped into action, instantly recognising it as Michelle’s. Her voice became clearer as he got closer. “Stark! Down here!”
Landing with a heavy squelch in the ditch, for a moment Tony stilled, trying to prepare himself for the horrors he knew he might face. He quickly got into a crawling position, bending his head down to see through one of the shattered windows and past the crumped metal.
Instantly, Michelle came into view. She was hunched over, her body incredibly small to fit in the space and her eyes were wide and teary, a manic glint to them that made Tony feel uneasy.
“Michelle?” He said, even though he knew it was here.
She seemed to crumple. “Help him! I don’t - you’ve gotta help him, please, I -“
That’s when Tony noticed she was cradling someone - Peter- her body angled slightly over his, and the boys head resting in her hands.
But he wasn’t moving. He wasn’t moving.
He should have been moving, he should have been letting out a dramatic sigh and saying something sarcastic about how long Tony took. He should at least have been looking at him.
“Peter.” Tony ground out, panicking at the fact he couldn’t reach him, would barely be able to tuck in an arm without being stopped by metal. He still couldn’t see much of the boy, his head and shoulders only visible through the window frame, but he could definitely see his too pale face and shut eyes. “Kid, wake up, wake - FRI? Is he…?”
FRIDAY’s apply was immediate. “I can detect a heartbeat, Boss. Medical attention is advised.”
Relief crashed over Tony. “What’s my plan of action here, FRI? How am I getting them out?”
“If my calculations are correct, you should be able to remove the west side of the car using a three-point laser at a fifty percent intensity, but nothing else can be done without compromising Peter’s position.”
Tony gulped but nodded, working carefully to remove the side. He was almost done when the laser passed over a particularly weak part, and the whole vehicle shuddered, creaking and shifting in place. And just as it happened, Peter’s head thrashed to the side and he let out a loud groan.
“Kid? You back with us?” Tony urged, while still focusing on cutting through the material.
“Peter.” Michelle whispered, patting his cheeks.
Slowly, his eyelids fluttered open and he looked around deliriously, moaning again when the car jolted.
“Stop moving the car around!” Michelle suddenly yelled.
“I’m tying my best!” Tony yelled from outside.
Peter tried to sit up but Michelle placed a hand on his chest, pushing him down. “Em? What’s - “
He cut himself off with a gasp, his eyes having shifted down to the rest of his body, remembering his gruesome state and the traumatising situation. “Shit, shit - oh god, what do we - oh god - “
Michelle tried reassuring him, tried to calm his panic even just a little bit but it was like he couldn’t hear her, still trying to move away.
“Kid!” Tony blurted. He had never heard him sound so hysterical before - it was disturbing and he knew it wouldn’t be leaving his dreams any time soon. Though he couldn’t see Peter from outside, it wasn’t hard to hear that he was teetering on the edge of a panic attack. “I’m here, okay? Right outside. Just give me a few seconds.”
Peter finally went quiet, his voice barely audible over the rain. “T-tony? You’re here?”
“Right here, Kid. Always.” Finally, he cut through the last joint of metal, and pulled the side away using magnets, trying not to jostle the car too much. Chucking it off to the side, he turned back to the open car, the sight making his legs tremble and breathe freeze.
To say the kid was in bad shape would be the understatement of the year.
Tony nearly vomited, looking away after he gagged twice and nearly collapsed. If not for the steady hold of the suite, he probably would have. The suite opened on his command and he all but fell out, his legs carrying him forward and knees landing in the mud right beside Peter’s body.
Peter’s mangled body.
The amount of blood was overwhelming. It mixed with the rainwater and trickled everywhere, over every visible surface, puddling in the mud beneath him. There was metal lodged in his stomach, which he assumed was the primary source. Peter’s legs had been completely crushed by the caved in material, bone jutting out of the skin and the denim of his pant leg, both twisted and contorted into gruesome angles.
“Nghh…” Peter groaned, the sound leaking out between his teeth which were grinding together as he arched his neck back. Tony was suddenly grateful that the spider bite meant he had stronger bone structure, because he was sure Peter would have crushed his teeth to a powder, and his legs would have been completely severed off if not for his powers.
“Okay…” Tony said in a shaky voice, searching for something, anything to say. Inching himself closer, he threaded his fingers through the boy’s matted hair. “We’ll be out of here in no time.”
Peter jerked his head in a nod, eyes darting to Tony’s momentarily before he was overcoming by pain again and had to squeeze them shut. Sweat was collecting on his forehead, glistening in the moon light.
“FRIDAY, dear? What- what do I do?”
For a moment FRIDAY was silent. “I suggest bending the metal away from his legs and sliding him out carefully. No further action can be taken until medics arrive.”
Tony blew out a breath, his hands already trembling as they were encased in the nano technology and he positioned himself by Peter’s lower half, careful not to touch his legs. It was a slow process, but by being patient he managed to outwardly bend the crumbled metal away from his skin.
Michelle was still talking to him, keeping him awake in his delirious state, but Tony had tuned her out, more focused on the task at hand. After sweeping away the glass on the floor, he hooked his arms under Peter’s armpits, staring down at the boy’s fearful eyes.
“I can’t.” Peter stuttered, knowing that Tony was about to pull him out.
“You can.” Tony encourages. “I know it hurts, Kiddo, but you can. You’re stronger than anyone I know; you can do this.
Michelle took his hand in hers, giving it a light squeeze. But Peter released it immediately and she tried to not let the hurt show on her face.
“I’ll break your hand.” He whispered, her eyes widening in understanding and sympathy. He must not have realised that it was likely already strained from his grip earlier, but she didn’t mention it, tucking the bruised limb into her pocket. A determined look came over Peter and he sucked in a forceful breath. “I’m ready. Let’s get this show on the road.”
The teary smile didn’t reach his eyes, but Tony’s heart swelled with pride none the less. “You got this.”
Tony waisted no more time, he tightened his grip on Peter’s arms and started to pull. Peter tensed immediately, his eyes blown wide and every muscle went rigid as he tried to supress the scream.
He could feel the metal in his stomach shifting and it was agony, but then he wasn’t prepared for the worst of it as his legs were next, dragging along the muddy ground with him. The fire that raced through his body was indescribable, and he swore he could feel every bump and every movement of the disfigured bones in his leg.
He was too far gone to even realise he was screaming, howling in pain and clawing at the arms still pulling him out. His screeching bled between strained words of ’Stop!’ and ‘No!’.
By the time he was out, sinking into the muddy floor and finally away from the confines of the car walls he was a panting, sobbing mess, blindly reaching out for Tony and Michelle. He couldn’t even see through the new pain that had overcome him, and this time he knew better than to look down. He had learnt his lesson.
Everything was overwhelming, there was too much input, and everything was too loud and too quiet, the blood rushing in his ears making his head feel like it would burst, and before he knew it there was something bubbling up his throat, and he couldn’t breathe - it was choking him, drowning him, making him hack and cough in panic. He felt his body shoved to one side and he was vomiting before he could even try to stop it, the action so painful it had his mouth agape in a silent scream as his body continued to convulse until he was sure there must be nothing left. No organs, no blood, no bones - he was sure they must be lying next to his body which had been reduced to just a pile of useless skin, blood running into the mud along with the rest of his insides, because surely after that he wouldn’t have anything left.
There were hands in his hair again and fingers tracing up and down his arm, the sensations seeming to dull the searing ache, so finally he relaxed, going boneless and allowing himself to breath.
But it didn’t last long, because as soon as the initial panic started to fade, exhaustion was weighing him down and he felt his eyes drift shut. There were people yelling at him, shaking his shoulders but he couldn’t find himself to care. The pain started to recede, and he welcomed it.
Maybe this is it, he distantly wondered.
Peter thought he should be scared, the people around him were scared. So why wasn’t he?
There were flashes of faces - MJ, Mr Stark - and though he didn’t like it when they worried, he still felt comforted. Because they were here, he wasn’t alone, he wouldn’t be alone when he… when he…
Yeah, Peter thought, I think this is it.
***
Usually, letting himself cry, alone or in company, was a part of Tony’s no-no list. He was an emotionally stunted superhero after all, his therapist claimed that it was normal.
But now? He couldn’t give less of a shit if he tried.
Tears were streaming down his cheeks as Peter was wheeled into the ambulance with Bruce Banner, and he was distantly aware that he was heavily leaning on someone - Rhodey, his mind supplied.
Peter had stopped moving. Stopped breathing. One moment he was screaming, the sound so disturbing Tony knew it would be haunting him for years, and then the next he was choking and vomiting, and then… then was just… still.
“Tones, man, you’re scaring me. Get it the hell together!” Rhodey was saying, shaking his shoulders.
Tony blinked up at him. He wasn’t certain he was breathing, wasn’t sure if anything in his body was operating like it should because he just felt so empty, like now the initial panic was passed he was just a shell of nothingness. “He stopped breathing.”
He hadn’t meant to say it, the words falling out of his mouth before he could think twice. He stopped breathing.
“Well, he’s breathing now. Bruce and Helen are the best, he’s gonna make it - “
“But what if he doesn’t?” Tony whispered, voice clipped, his fists clenching the collar of Rhodey’s jacket, not out of aggression but desperation.
Rhodey didn’t miss a beat. “He will.”
***
Michelle was in shock.
That’s what the medics had said to her anyway, as they wrapped foil around her arms, injecting her with pain medication. She didn’t even notice the needle go in.
Michelle wasn’t so sure - she’d read about people going into shock after a traumatic event, seen it in the movies, but she wasn’t so sure it was happening to her. Things like this didn’t happen to Michelle Jones, the nosey classmate, the captain of the decathlon team, the superhero’s girlfriend.
She was too stubborn. But then why did everything feel distant?
She could hear the medics talking to her, see their mouths moving, but not much was penetrating the thick walls of her mind and she didn’t really care. Her hands were shaking, she was pretty sure.
She couldn’t get her eyes to move down, like she was trapped in an immobile body, but by the way everything felt jittery and surreal she was pretty sure they were shaking. If Peter were here, he would grip them tightly till the tremors passed, his steady presence acting like an anchor.
But he wasn’t here.
Everything seemed blurry. Not her vision - that was fine, but the world around her. It felt like life itself was moving at a different pace, a little too fast and a little too slow at the same time, while she sat on a gurney, staring at nothing particular. Like she was in her own timeline, or dimension, or her own little pocket of reality that existed only for her, while everything else that ever was continued to move and change and warp into different colors and shapes.
Sometimes, if she didn’t pull herself back, for a small moment, she thought she was upside down again. She could feel the blood rushing in her head, the seatbelt pushing against her broken ribs, her hair dangling beneath her body. And though every time she shook herself out of the strange dream state, that awful, horrible feeling of foreboding never really went away.
In some ways she still felt upside-down. Trapped. Alone.
Michelle longed for Peter.
She needed him. He was the only one that could set her the right way up.
She didn’t like being upside-down.
***
The waiting was the worst part.
It was full of too many tapping feet, too many nervous glances, too many pessimistic thoughts.
And Tony had never been patient, that was a well-known fact. He tried to stop himself from looking through the window to the operating theatre every five seconds, having to be tackled away by Rhodey when he’d tried to get involved.
Actually, scratch that, calling May had been the worst part. He’d had to do it so may times before that it had almost become routine, a sick, twisted routine that never got easier. How was he supposed to tell her that her nephew could die? They had never come this close to losing him.
So now he sat on the floor, against a white wall. Michelle was around somewhere, probably still getting fixed up. He should go check on her, she’d been hurt too, but Tony couldn’t bring himself to leave the hallway, like it meant he was abandoning his kid. Even if he wanted to, he didn’t think he legs would carry him that far, probably bend under the weight of the all-consuming worry that was resting on his shoulders.
So, he waited.
And waited.
And waited.
***
“So, he’s gonna be okay?”
“He’s going to be okay, Tony.”
***
“Back up… so, what your saying is, I… died?”
Peter’s eyes were still slightly dazed, and his speech was still significantly slower than usual, but he was finally awake - coherently awake, anyway. He’d hated the drugged-up state he had been in before, never able to keep his eyes open for longer than a few minutes, desperately clinging onto words so he could try to piece them together. Finally, he could think.
He also didn’t like being on bedrest, stuck under layers of covers, but his legs were still in thick casts and bandages still encased him like a cocoon, so he wouldn’t be moving for at least a few more days.
“Twice, actually.” Tony said, his eyes not leaving the Stark tablet he was staring at.
Peter gulped, a little unsure what to say. “Damn.” He finally managed. “Double damn, I guess.”
Tony huffed a laugh, but he didn’t seem that amused, and still didn’t look up. It was starting to get frustrating now that Peter thought about it. Tony had barely looked at him since he was awake. He could remember little bits, like encouraging words and hands holding his, but other than that, everything after the accident was fuzzy.
The Accident. That’s what people were calling it now, which seemed a little underwhelming. The raw pain and trauma and horror from one night felt too monumental too just label as ‘The Accident’, like it was as big a deal as Morgan knocking over a glass of juice. Like he and Michelle hadn’t almost died. Like he wasn’t going to have nightmares about this for the rest of his life.
“Sorry I scared you.” Peter said quietly, tearing his eyes from his fidgeting hands to look at Tony.
The man barely reacted, waving a hand dismissively. “Don’t’ worry your pretty, little head about it, Kid.”
Tony still wouldn’t look at him.
“Where’s MJ?”
“Still sleeping - I can wake her if you want? I’m sure she wouldn’t - “
“Did I do something wrong?” Peter suddenly snapped. The ache that still thrummed in his bones made it hard to keep up a filter. He was tired.
Tony went still, the tapping at his tablet getting more erratic, like he was trying to busy himself, avoid having to look up. “What - “
“You’re mad. I can tell. Look, I know I should have seen the van - I should have driven more carefully, but-but it was dark, okay? And I tried to get us out, I did, but I was completely stuck and you know how much I hate small spaces - “
“Pete.”
“- but I guess I was panicking a little, well a lot - but you gotta understand - “
“Kid!” Tony raised his voice slightly, his eyes closing. “I’m not - god, no, I’m not mad.”
“But you are,” Peter insisted. “You’ve barely looked at me since I woke up, and-and I’m not gonna lie, I’m still freaking out a bit and I, I can’t get through this if you’re mad at me, I can’t - “
Tony looked at him. There were tears in his eyes. “I’m not mad, Bud - never. Kid… you died.”
Peter blinked up at him.
“You died, and I thought it was my fault - I though that me moving you out of that stupid car had killed you and I - “
He broke off. Took a deep breath. “You just really scared me. I thought I’d lost you.”
For a moment, Peter said nothing. Then, a small smile spread across his lips. “Nah, Tony, you could never lose me. I’m like crumbs in the bed - once I’m there, you ain’t ever getting rid of me!”
Tony barked a laugh, reaching forward to ruffle the Kid’s hair. “Yeah, a right old pain in the ass too - “
“What the fuck, Stark?” Michelle’s voice sounded from outside the room, before she slammed the door open, barging in and heading straight for Tony.
Tony leant back in his chair slightly. “Good morning to you too, Miss Jones.”
She jabbed a finger into his chest. “I told you to inform me when he woke up!”
“You were asleep!” Tony squeaked; his hands raised in surrender.
“I told you I don’t give a shit if - “
“Uh, hi…” Peter said. He cleared his throat when Michelle finally spun around.
For a moment they just stared, Michelle’s eyes wide. He couldn’t tell what she was thinking.
But then she once again she marched forward, and forcefully slapped Peter across the shoulder.
“Hey!” Peter yelled, recoiling as her gaze hardened and she struck him again. “What the - “
“You fucking idiot!” She rasped. “You scared the crap out of me, Loser!”
“Alright, sorry, sorry!”
There were tears in her eyes, and she furiously blinked them away before they could fall. “Seriously, what the hell were you thinking?”
“You act like I meant to get impaled!” Peter yelped incredulously.
“Not that part, you dipshit. The whole ‘I love you’ stunt you decided to pull, seconds before you fucking died! What the hell, man?”
Tony slapped a hand on his knee. “Right, I think that’s my cue to leave…”
Neither noticed as he quickly slipped out the door.
“Wha- that was, I mean - come on - that’s a bit unfair,” Peter stuttered, his neck heating up in embarrassment.
Michelle held his gaze, but the more she stared the more her eyes seemed to soften. Her shoulders relaxed and she blew out a long breath. “You know what, fine, I’ll let this one slip - but only because I’m pretty sure there was more blood around you than actually in you.”
“So, you forgive me?” Peter flashed her his best puppy dog eyes.
“Shut up.” She grumbled, perching on the side of his bed and crossing her arms.
Peter smirked, raising his eyebrow. “Wow, what a day, I made the great, indestructible Miss Jones cry. Surely, I should get an award for that or something, right? Like, some shiny, obnoxious trophy I can hang above my bed - “
“If you don’t stop yapping, I’m gonna smother you with a pillow”.
“Nah, you wouldn’t.”
“You’re right, no point in ruining such expensive pillows. I’ll strangle you instead.”
“Woah, Kinky.”
“Shut up”, Michelle breathed, but she was laughing now too, snuggling further into Peter without even noticing.
A flurry of movement and voices from outside had Peter sitting up slightly, who looked to Michelle, a similar look of confusion on her face.
“Move your ass, my best friends are in there, I don’t care - ”
Peter and Michelle looked to each other in understanding. “Ned.” They said to each other in unison, bracing themselves for the ball of chaotic energy they could hear thundering down the hall way.
Ned burst through the door, a hand against the doorframe as he panted from exhaustion, struggling to get his words out. “You would not believe the day I’ve had.”