Work Text:
You dropped a token into the turnstile and rushed through it while taking your backpack off. While the train car came up from the tracks you grabbed the earpiece Peter had given you and put it in. Once the train doors slid open, you rushed in and went to what you had claimed as your workstation.
“Alright, Peter, what’s happening?” You demand as you place your laptop on the counter and log into the system you helped him create.
“I’m almost on scene,” Peter talks over the sound of rushing wind. “Maybe seven blocks out? What do you see?”
“It looks like the police managed to clear out all bystanders. It appears that the Scor–”
“Scorpion!” Peter’s sudden yell has you wincing as you hear the thud of him landing. “What’s the matter? You get lost looking for your burrow?”
“Peter, what are you doing?” Your fingers fly across the keyboard as you try to pull up the traffic cameras feed to see what’s going on.
“Spider-Man, what took you so long?” Scorpion laughed.
You tried to get into the camera feed, but you didn’t have the time to figure out the access code. With a frustrated huff of air, you decided to pull up the news feed that was inevitably covering the scene. From the aerial feed you saw Scorpion’s tail move, revealing a passed out bystander. The spiked club on his tail was hovering over their head and was aimed at your boyfriend. Acid dripped out, narrowly missing the head of his hostage and melting through the street below with ease.
“Peter, you need to be careful. His suit’s different, and it looks like his acid is stronger,” you warned.
“What do you want, Scorpion?” Peter called with his hands moving in a manner to show he didn’t want any trouble.
“You’ve been making things very difficult for us.” Scorpion raised his tail and drew it back, “So we decided to start making things more difficult for you.”
Scorpion whipped his tail forward, releasing the unconscious man toward Peter. You watched as Peter caught the man and took the impact of them crashing into a nearby building. Peter emerged with the hostage, and swung him behind the police line before returning to where Scorpion was waiting. As he approached, Scorpion launched himself at Peter and sent them crashing into another building.
“Peter, you need to try and lead him out of the city,” you desperately instructed.
The only response you heard was a groan and more crashing, the news feed unable to capture what was happening inside. You held your breath as you saw Peter crash through a window, a stream of acid following him as he fell before swinging to the top of a nearby building. Scorpion emerged seconds later, punching into the building and using his lodged fists to scale the side of the building. As Scorpion approached the top, Peter swung away once again to lead them away from the city.
“Peter look out,” you gasped, but it was too late. A stream of acid melted away his web, and Scorpion was once again tackling Peter.
Peter was unable to push Scorpion off of him, but webbed the spiked end of his tail. You worried as you saw Scorpion land punch after punch on Peter. Before another hit could make contact, Peter finally forced Scorpion off. He managed to swing away once again, just before Scorpion melted the webs off his tail.
“Peter, you need to lead him to the east of the city. The direction you’re going now has another police barricade coming up in five blocks, and we can’t guarantee he won't harm someone else,” you guided him.
“Got it,” Peter confirmed.
You watched the news feed as Peter began turning a corner, but there was a sudden shake as the camera’s view dropped a couple feet. The edge of the news feed captured a stream shooting through the sky. It panned down and you saw Scorpion with his tail aimed directly at the helicopter.
“I think he just hit the news helicopter that’s behind you,” you warn. “The feed isn’t steady anymore, you need to get them out of it before it goes down!”
Through the graininess of the feed, you saw Peter clinging to the side of the helicopter. He got the pilot and reporter to hold on before he swung out of it. He swung in the direction of where you told him the police barricade was approaching. Once he had swung to safety, the feed completely cut out.
“Are you guys okay?” You heard Peter over the earpiece. “Two blocks that way is a police barricade, you’ll be safe there.”
You waited in silence for a few moments, hoping Peter would continue to lead Scorpion away from the city. You once again tried to access any of the street cameras in hopes of being able to see what was happening.
“How’re you holding up?” You ask as you try to get the camera access codes from the police’s database.
“I’m okay,” Peter’s voice strained from swinging through the city. “He clearly got a bigger upgrade than I thought, that new suit is making him a real pain to fight. I’m pretty sure he’s stronger than me now.”
“There isn’t much of him exposed. Whoever managed to break him out had a reason to. They decided to make him as armored as possible,” you thought aloud. “If you could manage to damage his suit enough, then you should be able to stop him and–”
“I think my earpiece is messed up,” Peter rushes in a tone you’re far too familiar with. “Maybe it was hit when–”
“Peter don’t you dare turn it off again,” you warn. “Every time something bad is about to happen, it just conveniently breaks.”
“Hey, that’s not true!” His voice ticks up an octave.
“Peter. If you shut it off instead of letting me help you, I swear that–” but you get cut off as static fills your ears.
You tried reconnecting the earpiece to the other channels the two of you use, but each one held the same static of dead air waiting for someone else to connect. You move away from your workstation and pace out of frustration. You have no idea what’s going on right now between Peter and Scorpion. Your frustration quickly sours into panic as you can’t help but worry over what could happen tonight.
“Every time,” you mutter, frustrated. “I don’t know why I even try. He clearly doesn’t want my help.”
Knowing that Peter won’t turn his earpiece back on tonight, you resign yourself to an evening of worry. You begrudgingly log out of the system that was made so you could help Peter while he was fighting and patrolling the city. You shove your laptop into your bag, rougher than necessary, and grab some of Peter’s bio-cable capsules. You watch as the train car lowers itself below the tracks once again and retrieve the token that was ejected from the turnstile. Slowly making your way out of the Roosevelt station, you carefully navigate the city towards your apartment as the sky begins to darken.
***
You’ve lost count of how many cups of coffee you’ve drank by the time you hear the window to your apartment finally lift. You cover the short distance from the table in your kitchen to the living room just to see Peter sliding the window closed and locking it. As the sky lightens with the beginnings of sunrise behind him, you try to fight the pricking of tears that come to your eyes upon seeing him. Raking your eyes over him, you take note of the burn holes in his suit and the dirt covering his face from the rips in his mask. You walk toward him and guide him toward the bathroom so you can patch him up.
You ignore Peter as he’s sat on the closed lid of your toilet while feeling his eyes on your face. You open the drawer you keep the first-aid supplies in and see him tug off the damaged mask. You remove the mask from his hand and place it on the counter. It’s silent except for your occasional sniffle, and the shuffle of supplies in your first-aid kit. You grab a cloth and wet it with warm water, finally meeting his eyes as you clean the dirt from his face to better see his injuries. Peter gently settles a hand on your waist and uses the other to wipe away the stray tears that make their way down your warm cheeks. You do your best to ignore the stress and worry you’ve been feeling for hours, but the more of his skin you reveal the harder it is to forget about. You wring the cloth out and take out the rubbing alcohol and cotton pads from the kit.
“Sorry,” you mutter as he winces from the alcohol cleaning the cuts on his face.
“Not your fault,” he reassures, tugging you closer while trying to lock eyes with you once again.
You refuse to look into his eyes, because once you do it’ll all be too much. You can’t imagine just how hard tonight was for him. He hasn’t come home this hurt since Doctor Connors was the Lizard. You use butterfly bandages to help keep the cut on his temple closed and apply neosporin to his split lip. You wish there was something you could do for his bruises, but know the only thing that will really help those are ice.
“What’s the verdict doc?” Peter jokes, smile falling slightly when you don’t react.
“Your face is all patched up, but I can’t patch the rest up when your suit is still on,” you state.
“If you wanted me to take it off you could’ve just asked,” Peter joked again as he began to try and remove his suit without hurting his injuries further.
“I made sure to grab some more of your web capsules, by the way,” you mention softly to keep your mind busy as you help him peel the top part of his suit off and let it dangle from his hips. “I couldn’t remember whether or not you’d need more if you stopped by.”
“What do you mean ‘if’ I stopped by?” Peter sat back some so you could assess his upper body. “O‘course I was going to come over. I always come ‘n’ find you after playing hero.”
You didn’t say anything as you took stock of the bruises that littered his body. You knew they would need to be iced later, but they should be completely gone by the morning.
I guess they’ll be healed by tonight then, you think once you see the light outside slowly turning the sky from blue to orange to pink.
Your main concern was that he had what looked like a few burns from the acid. The burns weren’t too serious, but there were plenty of them. You carefully moved his arm to look at the largest burn on his side. You saw the smaller burns scattered along his arms and shoulder, and had to swallow down the lump forming in your throat once again. Lightly prodding around the burns, you quickly retreat your hand when Peter releases a pained gasp.
“You’re fine,” he quickly reassures whilst reaching for your hand. “You didn’t hurt me, I swear. But, you’re not going to be able to wipe those ones clean.”
You tilted your head trying to think of how to clean the burns without hurting him further. You needed to disinfect the area so his super healing could do its job better.
“Do we still have that antiseptic spray you found last time?” Peter prompts.
You nodded silently and pulled out two sprays to show him, “I found another one, it had pain relief on the can. I don’t know how good the pain relief would work in your case, but figured it was worth picking up.”
“I trust your judgment,” Peter spoke with a fond smile.
“It doesn’t feel like you do,” you grumble as you spray the antiseptic onto his burns and then secure dressings over them.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
You don’t bother answering him as you pack up the first-aid kit and return it to the drawer you’ve turned into a medical supply cache. Once again, you feel Peter’s eyes trained on you as you close the drawer. You walk out, avoiding the hand Peter reaches out to stop you. Now that he’s home, that you’ve patched up his injuries so they can properly heal over the next few days, you have nothing else to keep your thoughts at bay. You make it to the living room and collapse onto the couch with your face buried in your hands. Your tears fall fast, no longer having a good reason to be held back. All the panic and worry you’d been feeling overshadow any bit of relief you’d been clinging to upon his return.
Peter emerges from the bathroom minutes later. You look up at the sound of his approach, seeing through the blur of your tears that he took off the rest of his suit and was wearing the sweatpants you insisted he keep here. The calm that washes over you at the realization that he’s here, that he’s still alive, makes the tears falling from your eyes speed up in frustration. Peter rushes over, and as he’s about to pull you into his arms you stop him with a hand on his chest.
“You’re an asshole,” you sniffle while wiping your eyes with your sleeve. “Why did you turn off the earpiece again? I had no way of knowing if you were okay! I thought you were really going to die this time.”
“Shh, baby, I’m okay. See? I’m alive, and I’m right here, and there’s nothing for you to worry about,” Peter holds the hand on his chest over his heart.
The steady beat of his heart under your fingertips reassured you that he really was there. The calm that washed over you earlier felt heavier as the anger inside you began to slowly fizzle away. You knew you could never hold what Peter did as Spider-Man against him, and that if you did then what kind of a girlfriend would you be?
“You’re not okay. You could have died tonight, Peter. I know what caused those burns, and you’re lucky the acid didn’t just melt you,” you’re voice was wavering more and more with every point you made while your hands weakly hit his chest. “When you first told me you were Spider-Man, I was worried sick every single time you went out. You suggested I could be your lookout while you were out there being a superhero. We agreed!”
“I was trying to keep you away from the fight. I don’t want you hearing when things get too serious out there,” he comforts tenderly.
“I don’t know how much more of this I can take,” you whisper. “It’s been eight months of you going off the radar in battle, and every time you do I can’t take it. I don’t want to lose you, but when you turn off the earpiece I worry worse. I know the only times you turn it off are when things are going to be bad. I need for us to–”
“Please, don’t do this,” Peter’s voice shook as he interrupted.
“Peter–”
“What if I gave you control? I’ll stop turning off the earpiece, listen to you more, make sure you’re as involved as possible.”
“Peter, I’m not trying to break up,” you rest your head against his uninjured shoulder, “I just don’t want to lose you. You mean so much to me.”
Peter wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into his lap, “After almost two years together? You’re not getting rid of me that easily. I promise you won’t lose me.”
“You can’t promise that, though.”
“What if I stopped? I could give up the mask. If that’s what it’ll take, then I’ll stop being Spider-Man.”
“I don’t want you to stop being Spider-Man, I just want you to let me be there. I know I can’t do much, but I feel better knowing someone’s watching over you while you watch over everyone else.”
“I’ll work on it. We can even work on setting up a better base in the train car for you. Whatever it takes for you not to worry like this ever again, I’ll do it all.”
You hold onto Peter a little tighter, glad that he was okay. Your tears had stopped, all that remained of your worry and anger was the occasional hiccup. Peter buried his face in your hair as he laid the two of you down on the couch. You kept your ear pressed against his chest while avoiding his bandages, finally allowing yourself to relax into him. You gazed at him as the sunrise cast the room in a golden hue and turned the brown of his eyes into honey.
“I’m really glad you’re okay,” you whisper against his chest as your eyes droop.
“I’m sorry I didn’t consider how my protectiveness was affecting you,” Peter ran his hand up and down your back. “You can sleep now, baby. I’m not going anywhere.”
“Promise,” you breathed out trying to fight the tiredness off.
“Promise. I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else; I’m home.”
You stopped fighting the tiredness that clung to you. You focused on the steady beat of Peter’s heart, the feeling of his hand rubbing your back, and let his warmth relax your worries.
Home, you thought. Anywhere you are feels like home to me.
You felt Peter briefly shift beneath you, then a blanket was settled over the two of you as he pressed a kiss into the crown of your head.
“I love you so much,” he confessed softly.
“I love you more than you know,” you kiss right over his heart.
Your heart beats slowly begin to match the other’s as your chests slowed their movements and allowed sleep to take over each of you as the city awoke outside your apartment.