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It’s close to midnight as Peter free-falls towards the streets below, feeling the cold wind rippling against his suit at the rapid speed he’s going. Peter grins underneath his mask at the adrenaline rush, watching as the streets below race up to meet him. He throws a web out, catching himself just in time as he swings his legs up, propelling himself back up into the air as he shoots a web to the nearest building.
This is one of the many things he loves about being Spider-Man.
The adrenaline rush that comes with being able to web-sling high above some of the world’s largest skyscrapers.
It’s truly an amazing thing to experience.
Peter continues his journey back home to Happy and May’s apartment, keeping an ear out for anyone that needs help. Karen will also alert him to any crimes or disturbances that are reported around the city with the new police scanner he installed into his HUD.
“Anything on the scanners, Karen?” He asks.
“Nothing at the moment, Peter. It seems as though it’s a slow night tonight.” She answers in an upbeat tone.
“Well, you know what they say. No news is good news.” Peter says, his smile growing a little under his mask.
So far tonight, he’s stopped a few car and store robberies, plus a couple of purses snatchers here and there.
A good night’s work, all in all.
Tonight being a slow night is actually helping him out since he’s going to be heading back up to the cabin bright and early in the morning for Morgan’s birthday and her big party tomorrow. Peter has been at home visiting Happy and May these past few days and the three of them will be driving upstate.
And thankfully while he’s been home, he was able to buy Morgan’s present—a plushy unicorn stuffed animal he hopes she will like since she’s been obsessed with unicorns lately.
He’s looking forward to heading back home to the cabin and relax for a little bit, hanging out and having fun with family and friends.
Peter is taken out of his thoughts by his spider-sense blaring at the back of his head full-force, causing his eyes to widen underneath his mask in surprise.
He looks left and right, looking for any incoming threats but there aren’t any.
“Karen what’s-“
“Incoming projectiles!” Karen warns him.
Before Peter can ask, something suddenly smacks into him on the right side of his face, causing him to gasp in shock, only to see a bunch of blurry objects flying around him.
Pigeons.
“Oh, come on! Hey—watch it!” Peter says as he waves a hand in front of his face in hopes to prevent any more from smacking him in the face.
There are so many of them, he can’t even believe what he’s seeing.
And he’s in the middle of all of them!
Peter blindly shoots another web out and roughly pulls on it, propelling himself above the flock of pigeons. His spider-sense goes off again, this time more forcefully, causing Peter to wince, closing his eyes for a brief second at the forcefulness of it.
And that’s how he misses the metal flag pole sticking out from the building.
Pain explodes in his head when his forehead collides right against the metal base of the pole and the last thing he knows is his web slipping out of his hand as he falls backwards from the force of the blow.
He blacks out before he’s able to catch himself.
…
Consciousness comes back to him in waves. The only thing he knows is pain.
So much pain .
Deep, throbbing, radiating agony .
The sound of a car horn blaring, causes Peter to snap awake, only to let out a weak groan when all of his senses come back online at once, mixing with the horrible pain in his head.
It’s so loud and bright, it’s hard to get a grip on everything.
“Peter, can you hear me?” Karen’s voice fills his ears. “You’ve experienced blunt force trauma to your head. Can you-“
“Whoa, shit! Spidey, you good, man?” Someone asks around him, mixing with Karen’s voice.
Peter squints beneath the lenses of his mask, trying to process everything going on around him, only to see a few blurry blobs standing above him.
“Hhh?” Is all he can say.
“Shit, should we call an ambulance?” A voice asks.
“But he’s Spider-Man-“
“Yeah, who just fell like fifty feet! He might have broken bones or something!” Another voice argues.
Peter blinks, bringing a hand to his head as he slowly sits up with another groan, feeling a hand on his back, helping him sit up.
“Take it easy, Spidey,” The same voice from before says. “Seriously though, can I call someone for you? An ambulance maybe? You took quite a tumble.”
“Yeah! You fell, like three stories!” Another person adds in a concerned voice.
Peter drops his hand and looks at the person beside him, seeing a young guy, probably around his age, looking at him with a worried expression.
“No, all good. Th’nks though.” Peter barely manages to get out, his mouth feeling like he has a bunch of cotton balls stuffed in it.
Slurring speech—not a good sign.
“Are you sure? You just wiped out in the middle of traffic, dude.” The guy points out.
Peter glances around, squinting at the harsh LED headlights around them, seeing that they are indeed in the middle of the road. “Yeah,” He says as he starts to slowly sit up, forcing himself to stay upright as best as he can with how the throbbing in his head increases from the change in position.
“Just uh… fell.” He finishes, not knowing what to say with how scrambled his brain is.
“Yeah, we noticed.” Someone says with a light chuckle.
The guy raises an eyebrow at him, ignoring the others around them. “Are you’re sure you’re alright to web off? I can call a taxi or something for you?” He offers.
“No, th’nks. ‘M all good. Th’nks for your help!” Peter says as he steps backwards from him, nearly tripping on his own feet.
Before anyone else can say anything, Peter squints as he lines his wrist up to the nearest building, struggling with his blurry vision as he shoots a web out. He feels it vibrate from the force of it connecting to the surface of the building and he lets out a relieved breath as he leaps into the air and escapes the scene.
He barely makes it to the rooftop of the nearby building before he clumsily falls to the gravel rooftop, rolling a few times until he comes to a stop, in shock from the whole ordeal and the pigeon ambush.
Peter squeezes his eyes shut as he lets out a pained groan, tightly gritting his teeth at the radiating, pain pulsating throughout his head and behind his closed eyes.
This is so much worse than any migraine he’s ever had.
“Peter, are you alright?” Karen asks in a calm, worried voice.
He remains silent for a few long moments as he lays there on the cold gravel, not even bothering to get up. The pain lessens only a little bit, allowing him to speak.
“No…” He groans out.
“Would you like me to call Mr. Stark? With a head injury—“
“N-No. D-Don’t…” Peter says, jerking up, only to let out a pained hiss, pausing for a moment until the pain lessens once again. “Don’t call T’ny. M’ gonna be okay, Ka’rn.”
The absolute last thing he wants is to bother Tony with this. He has his hands full enough with planning Morgan’s party, decorating and hosting a bunch of little kids and their parents tomorrow with Pepper. If Tony knew he was injured, he wouldn’t be focused on Morgan and enjoying the party like he should. And there’s absolutely no way Peter is going to put a damper on Morgan’s birthday.
“If you’re sure, Peter.” Karen says in a displeased voice.
“S’re m’ s’re.” He mumbles out, dropping his head back against the ground.
He stays there for a few more minutes until he feels good enough to sit up, leaning his back against the ledge of the building. He rests his head against the cold concrete and leans out a relieved breath and closes shins eyes from the small amount of relief it brings the pain. Not by much, but it’s something.
“Peter, I suggest you start back home in a few minutes or you will be late for your curfew.” Karen suggests lightly.
A low groan escapes from the back of his throat at that. “Yeah,” he mumbles as he lifts his head and opens his eyes again. “C’n you map the way home please?” He asks, slowly standing up, using the ledge to pull himself up.
“Sure thing. Routing the fastest way.” Karen says as the HUD shifts as a map pops up.
Peter has to close his eyes against the brightness and the fast moving it’s doing as it lays out the route. And he’s not even web-slinging yet, which will probably go very poorly with the fact that he can’t even look at a screen.
He would walk home in his condition but he doesn’t want to attract any unwanted attention with the fact that he only has his suit to wear.
“The apartment is only ten minutes from here. You’ll want to take a left from this building and head north about two blocks.” She finishes.
“Great. Lead the way, K.” He tells her.
Peter lets out a sigh as he shoots a web off to the closest building, already regretting web-slinging the way home in his condition.
…
By the time he finally reaches home, Peter all but collapses on the balcony, grateful to have made it in one piece… well, sort of.
It feels like his head is about to explode from the pressure and pain.
Peter lets out a relieved breath as he opens the glass doors and steps in, locking the door behind him. The apartment is silent as he stands there, unable to really hear anything with the throbbing in his ears from his head. He doesn’t bother to flip on any lights as he heads across the large space towards the hallway using the moonlight as his guide, grateful that no one is up at this hour. He couldn’t hold a conversation with anyone right now even if he tried.
As he walks down the hallway to his room, he’s able to hear the faint sound of Happy’s snores from his and May’s room, seeing that the door is open. Peter quietly goes into his dark room and closes his door behind him. He leans his back against the wooden door and breathes out a relieved breath.
“Peter, with a head injury like you have sustained, sleep is not advisable unless you have someone monitoring you and waking you up every hour.” Karen speaks up in a soft voice.
He’s had quite a lot of head injuries at this point in his crime-fighting career, he knows the drill by now. But he can’t get by without any sleep either. And judging by how exhausted he is, he may not have much of a choice in the matter.
“I know, K’rn.” He slurs out as he stumbles over to his bed and carefully lies down on his side, squeezing his eyes shut against the throbbing in his head.
Pigeons .
Of all the ways he could get injured.
Why did it have to be pigeons ?
Embarrassing .
He closes his eyes under his mask, grateful for the sensory blockers Tony had built in to help with his senses since they’re always extra sensitive when he’s hurt or sick.
“Peter, I highly recommend that I call Mr. Stark for you to inform him—“
“No, K’rn. I can’t ruin Morg’s b’thday.” He mumbles into his pillow.
“Peter, I’m sure you won’t. Mr. Stark really should know about this.”
“I’ll tell him af’r the party.”
“But Peter-“
“It’s fine K’rn…” Peter says, his voice trailing off at the end as he feels sleep starting to wash over him, tempting to pull him into a peaceful black hole so he can escape the pain for a little bit until he has to wake up.
“If you’re sure, Peter.” Karen says in again that night in an unsure, worried voice.
“Mhmm…” Peter hums, feeling himself starting to drift off.
He’s out like a light not even five minutes later.
…
Consciousness comes back to Peter slowly, but the first thing that he can feel is the pain, throbbing away in his head.
It feels like his head is going to burst.
“-eter… up.” A far away voice murmurs in his ear.
No… no up.
He doesn’t want to get up yet.
Not with all of this pain.
But unfortunately, his body is coming back online now and he’s half-asleep, half-awake now.
“Peter, wake up.” The voice comes again, sounding like it’s getting closer. “He’s not waking up.”
May .
“He’s probably exhausted. I’m sure he’s alright, May.” Another voice says.
Peter can feel a weight on his back… a hand, gently shaking him.
“Pete, come on, you’ve gotta wake up. We’re going to be late.” The other voice says.
Happy.
The movement of being shaken makes the throbbing in his head to increase, causing Peter to let out a groan, turning his head deeper into his pillow in hopes to go back to sleep.
“Uh uh, come on. We’ve gotta get on the road soon. Wake up, Pete.” Happy tells him.
Peter lets out another weak groan in response.
“Peter, come on,” Happy says again, sounding a little upset with him, gently shaking his shoulder again.
Waves of pain travel up from his neck and through his head, causing Peter to clench his fists and squeeze his closed eyes tighter, resisting the urge to let out another groan.
“M’ up, m’ up.” Peter mumbles into his pillow.
He takes a moment to wake up a little more before he slowly rolls on his side and slowly sits up, leaning on his elbow, wincing as his head starts to sharply throb from the change in position. He looks up at May and Happy, only to see they’re looking at him with odd expressions on their faces.
“What?” Peter asks them, brows pulled together in confusion.
“Rough night?” May asks him with a raised brow.
Peter’s brows pull closer together. “Huh?” He dumbly asks.
“You slept in your suit,” Happy points out. “Mask included.”
Peter blinks as he looks down at himself, only to see that he’s right. He vaguely recalls stumbling back home after getting hit in the head by that flag pole, all thanks to that pigeon. But he can’t remember if he took his suit off before going to bed.
Well…this is embarrassing. He thinks to himself. Better than me being in the nude though.
“Crime fighting in your sleep?” Happy asks with a chuckle, only for May to lightly wack his arm.
Peter weakly laughs at that. “Yeah, something like that.”
“Are you okay?” May asks, suddenly serious. “I had a hard time waking you up. I got Happy in here, I was so worried.”
A wave of nerves flows through him as he looks at her. He honestly hates lying to May—he truly does—but he’s going to the party today and act like he’s completely fine for Morgan.
“Yeah, sorry. I’m just super tired I guess. I got in a little late last night—not past curfew though, so don’t worry. But… I’m all good. Right as rain.” He says with a fake smile, even though she can’t see his face with his mask on.
Stop rambling. He mentally scolds himself.
May looks at him, squinting slightly, folding her arms over her chest.
Her signature ‘Mom look.’
Oh no.
“Uh huh… can you take off your mask then?” She asks, sounding more like an order than a question.
Peter’s eyes widen a little under his lenses. He just passed out last night when he got home and never thought to take his mask off to have a look at where he slammed his head to make sure he didn’t have a bad bruise
And come to think of it… maybe he should have iced his head or something before going to bed.
Peter nervously looks up at Happy, who raises his eyebrows expectantly at him. “Uh…”
The sudden sound of a phone ringing interrupts them, causing Peter to jump at the suddenness and loudness of it. Happy reaches into his back pocket of his jeans and pulls out his phone, bringing it up to his ear. May turns to look at Happy.
“Hey, Tony. Yeah—yeah. We’re going to be getting on the road in a few minutes. We’ve been trying to wake up Sleeping Beauty here and he’s finally awake now,” He says with a chuckle, glancing Pete’s way. “Alright. I’ll let them know. See you soon… bye.”
He puts his phone back in his pocket before looking at May. “The bouncy house is all set up and Morgan’s friends are arriving now. Tony says she’s already demanding cake, so we better get going.” Happy says with an amused smile.
May laughs at that. “Oh, that girl. Just like her Dad,” She says with a smile before turning back to Peter, pointing at him. “Go get ready, Spider-Man. Remember you’re making a surprise guest appearance at Morgan’s party.”
Peter manages a smile at that. “I know.”
A few weeks ago when Tony and Pepper were asking Morgan what she wanted to do at her birthday party, the first thing she requested was Peter to make an appearance as Spider-Man, and he just so happens to be one of her favorite super heroes—a close second to Iron Man, of course. And it’s going to be a lot of fun showing up to the party in his suit to surprise Morgan and her friends. He never said he would do it to her, just to Tony and Pepper, so hopefully she will be surprised when she sees him.
May smiles at him before she turns and steps out of the room, her footsteps heading down the hallway.
“You really should tell them the truth, Peter.” Karen suddenly speaks up, causing Peter to jump, feeling his heart hammering away in his chest.
Happy looks back at him, seeing him jump, his face immediately dropping into his signature serious expression. “Okay, what’s wrong with you?”
Peter blinks at the sudden question, trying to calm himself from Karen’s little scare. “Nothing’s wrong.” He says, forcing his voice to remain normal sounding.
“How many times have I heard that come out of your mouth before? Every time you say that it’s never true. The next thing I know you’re either bleeding out, you practically chopped your own hand off in the kitchen, or you’re having an allergic reaction to something. I don’t believe you anymore when you say ‘ nothing’s wrong.”
Peter rolls his eyes under his mask, only to wince, feeling his head let off a particularly sharp throb in response to the movement. “Well, I mean it this time. Nothing’s wrong.”
Happy studies him for a few long seconds. “You still haven’t taken your mask off.” He points out.
Peter searches through his scrambled brain for an excuse. “I have… mask hair.” He finally says after a second, wincing at how dumb that sounded coming out of his mouth.
“Mask hair,” Happy repeats, clearly not buying it. “Peter… if you’re lying to me right now, so help me-“
“Honey, do you remember what I did with the gift bags? I thought I bought a cute one to put Morgan’s present in!” May calls out from a few rooms down, cutting him off.
Happy let’s out a sigh, tuning away from him to look at the door. “I think the bags are in the hallway closet!” He calls back to her.
Peter winces at the volume of his voice as he sits up further, swinging his legs over his bed. He has to close his eyes against the wave of dizziness and pain he’s met with now that he’s sitting up.
“Found them!” May announces a few beats later.
Happy sighs again, smiling before his face drops as he looks back at him. “I’m serious, Peter. If you’re not okay you need to tell me.”
“And I’m serious . I’m fine . Okay?” Peter says in a more firmer voice.
Happy watches him for several long seconds before his shoulders drop a little with a long sigh.
“Alright,” He says, seeming to let it go. “Go get changed. We’re going to be leaving in ten minutes.” He says as he turns and heads over to the door.
“Fifteen minutes?” Peter asks.
“Fifteen and no more.” Happy lightly says as he steps out into the hallway, closing the door behind him, the door softly clicking shut.
Peter waits a moment, listening to the sound of his footsteps walk down the hallway before he hears him and May talking.
“Thanks for the jump-scare, Karen. Way to give a guy a heart attack.” He lightly says.
“I’m sorry, Peter. I didn’t mean to frighten you,” She responds. “ But you really should tell your aunt or Mr. Hogan about your current condition. I am unable to fully scan you for your injuries but I detect you have a moderate concussion. But you may also be unknowingly experiencing swelling in your brain or quite possibly a brain bleed-“
Peter’s eyes widen at that as a huge wave of fear washes over him. “Whoah, whoah, whoah!” He harshly whispers, cutting her off. “What the heck , Karen? I don’t have a brain bleed. I hit my head—not hard enough to do that ! Chill out a little.”
“My apologies, Peter but I’m just trying to help. There are always risks involved with head injuries, such as yours. You also know that Mr. Stark gave you strict instructions on telling him when you’re injured or sick, especially after the last few times you have failed to do so.”
Peter lets out a sigh, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. “Yes, I’m well aware, Karen. But I’m not going to totally hide this from him. I’ll tell him after Morgan’s birthday party.”
Karen is silent for a few moments, long enough to worry him that she’s going against his wishes and tattling on him to Tony.
“If you’re sure, Peter,” Karen says in a soft, defeated voice. “I hope you enjoy the party.”
It’s at least the third time she’s said that to him and to be honest… it’s a little unsettling.
“Thanks… see you later, Karen.” Peter says before he reaches up and pulls his mask off.
A sharp pain flows through his head at the loss of the sensory blockers, causing him to lightly hiss in pain through gritted his teeth.
Today of all days, why did I have to smash my head into that stupid flag pole, all thanks to those pigeons? Speaking of which, I hope they’re all okay. He thinks as he closes his eyes and lets out a long breath through his nose, waiting for the pain to lessen.
When it reaches a more bearable level a few moments later, Peter slowly stands up and braces his hands on the edge of the bed, his vision swimming for a few seconds until it goes back to normal. With how absolutely shitty he’s feeling now… he can only imagine how terrible he’s going to feel later on when he’s trying to keep a bunch of five and six year olds entertained as Spider-Man—and not to mention all of the high-pitched screaming his sensitive ears will have to endure.
Peter lets out a groan at the thought, rubbing his face tiredly in his hands as he goes over to his closet for a clean change of clothes. He grabs a pair of jeans and his NYU hoodie before going over to his door. He opens his door and quickly heads down the hallway to the bathroom, wanting to avoid bumping into May or Happy in case his face is a bruised or bloody mess.
When he reaches the bathroom, he slips inside and closes the door behind him and turns to look at himself in the mirror, only to see his tired, pale reflection looking back at him.
Leaning over the sink for a closer look, Peter squints as he inspects his head, grateful to not see any visible bruises near where he hit his head. He presses against the middle of his forehead, only to hiss through gritted teeth when a sharp spike of pain races through his head from the touch, followed by an intense wave of lightheadedness. It’s so sudden, it causes him to grab onto the granite sink countertop to brace himself.
“Whoah…” Peter mumbles as he squeezes his eyes shut, bending over the counter with his arms leaning against the counter.
He leans down more and rests his head against his arms, feeling his legs wobble slightly, threatening to give out from underneath him, which… is concerning to say the least.
Sure, he’s gotten hit on the head pretty good many times before but… he doesn’t recall a time when he’s felt like this.
So… crappy and out of it.
It takes a few minutes for the dizzy spell to fade away, allowing Peter to slowly rise from his position. When he faces his reflection in the mirror, he’s met with his still-too pale face, which is somehow even more paler now.
How is he going to pull this off today, pretending that he’s perfectly okay?
But more importantly… is he truly okay?
What if this is a little more than a bump to the head like Karen said?
Peter pushes the thought away, not wanting to stir up any unnecessary anxiety.
“I’m fine,” He mumbles to his reflection, ignoring the way his voice wavers at the end. “I’m fine.”
Peter turns away from the mirror and takes a few steps over to the shower, turning the hot water on. All he needs is a nice, warm shower to help relieve some of this pain and hopefully relax enough to ease his symptoms.
…
It’s past ten in the morning when they all pile into Happy’s car in the garage of their apartment building.
“You have Morgan’s presents?” May asks, reciting her mental to-do list once they are in the car.
“Yep. All wrapped and in the trunk.” Happy says.
“The appetizers?”
“They’re in the trunk too, and the cooler is in there too.” He says, offering her a knowing smile as he starts the car up.
“Peter, you have your suit?” She asks, glancing at him in the rear view mirror.
“I do, as always.” He tells her.
May smiles before she lets out a sigh. “Well, I think that’s everything then.”
Peter manages a small smile from the backseat. May has always been a worrier, especially when it comes to roadtrips. But Happy knows her so well by now, he’s usually one step ahead of her in these kinds of situations. And it’s really heartwarming to see just how much Happy truly loves and cares for her—and how much May loves and cares for Happy in return.
He’s not the lovey, mushy type… but he hopes to have something like that one day, way, way in the future.
Maybe even with MJ.
The corner of Peter’s mouth turns up at the thought of her. They unfortunately haven’t been able to see each other for a few weeks with MJ being another state away at school and with her trip back home for summer break, her family had spent all the time they could with her, only allowing them to have a day together.
Peter spoke with her on the phone a few nights ago and they are thankfully planning on meeting up sometime next month when she’s back for Thanksgiving break.
And Peter honestly can’t wait to see her with how much he misses her.
The car moving takes him out of his thoughts as he looks out the window as they pull out of the parking spot before Happy shifts gears from reverse and to drive, heading towards the large garage doors.
The bright sunlight meets them once the automatic garage door slides open, causing Peter to squint as a sharp pain shoots through his head from the suddenness brightness. He keeps them shut for a few minutes, feeling the car vibrating beneath his feet.
Minutes pass by and they find themselves stuck in late morning traffic, driving then stopping every few seconds.
Peter resists the urge to let out a groan from the backseat from all of the movement that’s causing his pounding headache to worsen.
That only makes him remember something.
He forgot to take his pain meds.
Peter breathes out a sigh through his nose, letting his head rest against the seat behind him as he looks up at the ceiling of the car.
Of all the days he could forget to take his pain meds.
It had to be today.
A two and a half hour car ride, plus a birthday party full of noisy five and six year olds.
Wonderful.
With the rate things are going… it’s going to be a long ride and an even longer day.
Peter lets his eyes fall shut, hoping that he can maybe pass out for the majority of the drive. He tunes out the beeping cars and the other many sounds of the city as he focuses on his breathing, a technique Tony taught him a few months ago to help with his panic attacks.
Inhale.
Exhale.
Inhale.
Exhale.
The more deeply he breathes, he starts to feel himself drifting off, is thoughts slipping away from him.
Inhale.
Exhale.
Inhale…
Exhale…
Inhale…
Darkness washes over his mind and he’s falling into a deep, painless slumber not even a few minutes later.
…
Peter slowly comes back to consciousness, feeling something heavy on his shoulder. He tries to go back into the darkness and ignore whatever it is but it still keeps weighing down and nudging him.
Shaking him, more like.
“…up…up…” A distant voice says.
No up.
Not yet.
He’s too tired to get up right now.
“…eter….up…”
Nope.
The shaking continues and it only is starting to wake him up more now, consciousness coming back to him in waves, like he’s swimming to the surface of water.
As he wakes up more with each passing second, pain starts to settle in—a dull throbbing in his head, making it terribly difficult for him to think.
“…Peter, wake up…”
He feels his brows pull together in a frown, managing to crack his heavy eyes open, only to quickly slam them shut when he’s met by brightness.
“Come on, kiddo, wake up.”
Peter forces his eyes open once again, sluggishly blinking, only to see Tony’s face in front of him. But… he doesn’t remember being with Tony. Peter’s brows pull even closer together, confusion setting in as he turns his head, seeing that he’s in the backseat of a car—Happy’s car to be exact. And he’s clearly Upstate at the Stark’s cabin.
But… he can’t remember how he got here.
“Pete? Are you okay?” Tony asks in a worried tone.
Peter turns his achy head and looks at him, still frowning.
“I…” He starts, not really sure what to say. How can you just tell someone you don’t know how you wound up in a car? “Yeah. M’ good.”
Tony raises an eyebrow. “Are you sure? Hap and May had to come in and get me they couldn’t wake you up. And they said this happened when you got up this morning too. What’s up with you?”
Peter blinks, his eyes shifting to the side of Tony’s face as he squints, trying to recall this morning. He remembers getting hurt on patrol last night but this morning… is a blank.
And… it’s terrifying.
Tony’s face drops into a serious expression. “Peter, what’s going on?” He asks. “Are you feeling alright? You’re not hurt are you?”
Peter’s eyes slide back to Tony’s worried face. He doesn’t know what to do.
Tell him now or don’t tell him?
“I’m okay.” He says.
Tony studies him for a few long seconds. “Are you sure? You look exhausted and… distant.”
“I’m just tired, Tony. I got in a little late last night is all,” Peter says as he reaches up and rubs at his eyes—which it isn’t technically a lie.
“Well… alright. But you’re going to take it easy today. No crazy stunts or anything, got it?” Tony says, pointing at him.
“Got it.” Peter repeats, managing a small smile at that.
Tony’s mouth pulls up into a smile as well before he stands up from half-leaning into the car and steps back. Peter undoes his seatbelt and picks up his backpack before he slowly gets out of the car, grabbing on to the car door for support when a wave of lightheadedness washes over him.
“You okay?” Tony asks, grabbing onto his arm when he notices.
Peter shakily nods. “Yeah, just stood up too fast. You know… long drive and all.”
Tony hesitates for a moment before nodding slowly. “Right.”
It only takes a few seconds for the lightheadedness to pass, allowing him to stand up normally and let go of the door. He turns around and looks up at the house, seeing that the front porch is covered with pink, white and light lavender streamers. There’s a large banner at the top of the stairs attached to the support beams that reads, “Happy Birthday Morgan!”
That’s right—Morgan’s birthday party!
How could he forget?
Memories rush back to his mind, remembering the stuffed unicorn he got for her, as well as the fact that Spider-Man is supposed to be making a grand appearance any time now.
Peter frowns as he follows Tony up the front porch steps, slipping his backpack on over his right shoulder. He’s freaking out right now about not being able to remember anything except for yesterday and last night.
His head injury must be a lot more worse than he thinks it is.
Any kind of amnesia isn’t a good sign.
And with how horrible his headache is… what if his brain is swelling up?
What if he has a brain bleed?
He can feel fear seeping into him, tightly wrapping around his chest. The horrific thoughts cause a wave of nausea to wash over him.
Peter swallows hard as he steps inside the house, only to find it crowded with kids Morgan’s age and a lot of people. Decorations are strewn throughout the house in the same color theme as the banner and streamers on the front porch.
The house is filled with voices and laughter.
And it’s loud.
Too loud.
Peter resists the urge to cover his over-sensitive ears.
The throbbing in his head has now turned into a horrible pounding, seeming to match his racing heartbeat.
Wait.
Is it normal to feel your own heartbeat?
Peter nervously tightens his grip on the strap of his backpack.
Another wave of nausea rolls over him, so strong that it sends a gush of saliva into his mouth.
Oh shit.
He’s going to throw up.
He thickly swallows as much of it as he can back down his throat.
Peter looks at Tony, leaning slightly closer to him. “Uh… I’m just gonna go up to my room for a sec.” He says, raising his voice a little so he can hear him over all of the noise.
“Good idea. The guest of honor should be coming any minute now to see the birthday girl,” Tony says with a knowing wink. “We’re going to corral everyone outside in the backyard, so meet us out there when you’re ready. Just shoot me a text and we’ll do the grand reveal we practiced.” He says with a smile, clearly excited about this whole thing.
Peter nods, managing a small, fake smile before he walks away towards the stairs, just in time for another particularly violent wave of nausea to flow through him.
It takes everything in him not to run upstairs.
He manages to walk up somewhat normally and when he’s around the corner and out of anyone’s sight—especially Tony’s—Peter runs to the bathroom and slams the door shut behind him, tossing his backpack to the floor. He’s unable to lock the door in time before he’s roughly dropping to his knees in front of the toilet.
Peter is barely even able to lift the seat up before a gush of horribly hot saliva rushes up his throat, causing him to gag into the toilet.
The gag triggers his stomach to painfully twist, followed by something warm shooting up his throat.
He gags again and dunks his head further in the toilet, only for vomit to spew out of his mouth and into the water below.
Peter lets out a hoarse groan as the horrible throbbing in his head increases to an almost unbearable level, squeezing his watery eyes shut, feeling a few tears slide down his cheeks.
He feels like absolute crap.
The worst he’s felt in a long time.
Before he gets to ponder on it any more, Peter throws his head back in the toilet and violently gags, more vomit escaping from his mouth.
When it finally stops, Peter lets out another weak groan and lets his face rest against the rim of the toilet, not caring about any germs with how horrible he feels.
He’s left exhausted and panting, half-lying on the bathroom floor.
Peter grits his teeth, clenching a fist in his lap as his head continues to throb away, feeling almost like his skull is about to crack from the pressure.
He’s so out of it, he misses the sound of footsteps approaching and the bathroom door slowly opening.
“Petey?” A small voice echos in the bathroom.
Peter’s eyes fly open, only to see Morgan standing in the doorway of the bathroom, looking at him with a look of confusion on her face. Her eyes slide from him, to the toilet, then back to him once again.
“Do you have an upset tummy?” She asks, her brows pulling together in a sympathetic expression.
“Uhh…” Peter stumbles for an answer, all of the pain and nausea making it difficult to think. “I just…”
Morgan lets out a little gasp. “Do you have stage fright?”
Peter looks at her in confusion. “Stage fright?”
“Yeah! I got it when I went on stage when my class did the play Alice in Wonderland. And you must have it too because you have to be Spider-Man in front of my friends!” Morgan says with a smile.
He blinks a few times before he nods, wincing and closing his eyes when it causes his head to pound more. “Y-Yeah, that’s exactly what’s going on.” He lies.
“Do you want me to get Daddy?”
Peter’s eyes fly open. “N-No!”
Morgan frowns, confused at his sudden outburst.
“Uh.. no. I’m—I’m okay, Morgs, really.” Peter lies.
If Tony found out about him upchucking into the toilet, the whole Spidey surprise for Morgan is going to be ruined—although, it’s now already half-ruined now that she’s caught him like this. And Peter really wants to do this for her and make her happy.
If she wants Spider-Man at her party, Peter is going to make damn sure that he’s there.
“Why don’t you go downstairs with your friends? Tell Dad I’ll be down in a few minutes okay. But… this…” Peter says, gesturing around the bathroom. “Please don’t tell him—don’t tell anyone about this, okay?”
Morgan nods. “Pinky promise?” She asks, holding up her pinky on her left hand.
Peter spares a glance down into the toilet that’s currently occupied by the contents of his stomach. “Uh, how about we just settle for a crossing your heart kind of promise?” He suggests, looking back to her.
The last thing she needs is to walk over and see the horrific sight in the toilet.
Morgan smiles, crossing her heart over her chest. “Promise!”
Peter manages a smile at that. “Thanks. I’ll see you down there in a few.”
“Okay!” Morgan says as she turns to walk away.
“Can you please shut the door on your way out?” Peter calls out to her.
“Yep!” Morgan happily says as she turns back and grabs the door handle, closing the door, leaving him alone in the bathroom.
Peter lets out a shaky sigh as he uncrosses his legs, which have both fallen asleep from the awkward position minutes ago, and adjusts his position so he’s now leaning against the wall. He rests his head against it and lets out another long sigh, closing his eyes. The pounding in his head feels like it’s getting even worse now—if that’s possible.
He has no idea how he’s going to be able to pull this off today with how horrible he feels.
But he’s going to do it for Morgan.
He can’t disappoint her.
She’s been looking forward to her birthday party for weeks now.
Peter opens his eyes, squinting against the sunshine coming in from the window above him. The first thing he needs to do is get up from this floor.
Easier said than done.
He breathes out another sigh though his nose before he turns and kneels on the floor, reaching out for the sink vanity for balance as he slowly rises to his feet. Another horrible wave of dizziness and nausea washes over him as he stands there, leaning against the vanity. Peter closes his eyes and tries to just focus on his breathing, willing himself not to throw up again.
I’ve got this. He tells himself.
All he has to do is suit up and get through this party.
Peter opens his eyes again once doesn’t feel as dizzy and turns around to the sink and turns on the water to wash his hands. When he rinses the soap off them, he cups some water and wets his face. He lets out a relieved breath at the feeling of the cold water on his skin as he looks up at his reflection in the mirror.
It’s no surprise to see how terrible he looks—pale skin and dark circles under his eyes.
He has no idea how he’s going to get through the day and without anyone—Tony or May in particular—figuring out something is wrong with him.
And after the party is over… he’ll tell Tony what’s going on.
Peter stands up straighter and looks at himself in the eyes.
I’ve got this. He repeats to himself.
…
It takes Peter longer than he would like to admit to change out of his clothes and into his suit. Standing in the center of his bedroom, Peter eyes his bed longingly, wanting nothing more than to draw the shades and crawl into bed and sleep this horrible headache off.
After the party he will… and after he tells Tony about his head injury, of course.
As much as he doesn’t want to—he knows that his symptoms are concerning and he needs to tell him.
Peter lets out a sigh as he slips his mask on over his head as he walks over to his window and slides it up before climbing out. He sticks to the side of the house and crawls up to the roof before standing up, fighting against the new wave of dizziness he’s met with from the movement.
“Peter, I strongly advise against you doing this in your current condition. A fall from this height would be catastrophic.” Karen tells him.
“I’ll be okay, Karen. I’m not going to fall—I’m Spider-Man, remember?” He jokes.
“I’m reminded of that fact every time you get yourself injured, such as now, Peter.” She says without any bite to it, only in a concerned tone.
He manages a small smile at her words. “Can you please text Tony and let him know I’m in position on the roof?”
“Certainly.”
Peter cautiously makes his way towards the back of the house and stops just before the roofline, overlooking the backyard and all of the guests and decorations. Tony and Pepper truly went all out with the decorations for the party—even getting a bouncy house castle. He can see Tony standing on the steps of the back porch, addressing the guests.
“…thank you all for coming to celebrate Morgan’s birthday! We have a lot of fun things planned and before we cut the cake… it’s time to welcome our guest of honor…” Tony says, gesturing to the top of the roof.
“That’s your cue, Peter. Good luck and please be careful. Try not to overdue it in your condition.” Karen tells him.
He would have rolled his eyes if he knew it wouldn’t upset his pounding head any more than it is right now.
“I will. Thanks, Karen.”
Peter eyes scan around him, thinking up an idea. He can shoot a web at a thick tree branch and swing down or… he could just jump on down in a kind of fancy way, to prove that he’s the genuine article.
He eyes a nearby thick pine tree a couple feet away from the house and he raises his arm, squinting against the sun as he shoots a web out, feeling it connect with it. Peter pulls on it a few times to test it and it feels secure.
Peter blows a nervous sigh out of his mouth. “Well here goes nothing.” He mumbles to himself.
He steps off the roof and lets himself fall down for a minute, swinging his legs up and over himself as he eyes the deck. Peter does a backflip in the air and manages to perfectly land in a crouch a few feet away from Tony, only to hear shocked gasps from the party guests. He ignores the way his head pounds even more from the intense movements.
“…Spider-Man!” Tony says, raising a hand towards Peter.
Peter nervously smiles underneath his mask as he stands up, only to be met with a wave of dizziness that washes over him. He forces his legs to stiffen, preventing himself from tipping sideways. The dizziness lingers, but thankfully it seems to fizzle down a little. Tony thankfully doesn’t seem to notice, which Peter will take as a win for himself.
“Would you like to say a few words?” Tony asks in a quiet tone so only he can hear him, leaning closer to him.
“Uh, sure,” Peter says, as Tony nods, taking a small step back. Everyone goes silent. “Uh… hey, guys. I want to thank the Starks for letting me be here and I want to wish Morgan a very Happy Birthday.” He says as he eyes Morgan in the crowd of kids, standing right next to Pepper with a big smile plastered on her face.
Peter glances at Tony, who smiles in response to his little speech—as cringy as it was with how nervous he is.
“Let’s party, everyone!” Tony says with a grin, causing the kids to cheer in excitement.
…
Two hours pass by in a blur as Peter goes around the party, taking photos with the kids, showing off some more of his acrobatic skills, and playing some games. It’s truly a wonderful party and Tony and Pepper really did an amazing job at putting it all together for Morgan. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen Morgan’s face light up the way it is today. Her friends are excitedly asking her how she knows Spider-Man and they are all excitedly asking her questions.
But the only problem is how absolutely horrible he feels.
His head feels like it’s going to pop with the amount of pain he’s in. This is very not normal and Peter knows it. And not to mention how horribly nauseous he feels, immensely grateful for his mask right now so no one could see just how miserable he is.
He’s now sitting away from the party, sitting on the ground behind a large pine tree so no one can see him, allowing him to have a bit of a well-needed break.
“Karen, can you put the sound blockers on more please?” Peter mumbles so she can only hear him, closing his eyes tightly.
He can still hear all of the kids screaming and the loud music on the speakers, which is making his headache increasingly worse.
“The sound blockers are maxed out, Peter. I’m sorry,” Karen tells him in an apologetic voice. “Perhaps you should excuse yourself from the party and tell Mr. Stark about your injury? He will be able to help, Peter.”
Peter lets out a sigh. “No… I just need a minute, Karen. I’ll be fine. I’m going to tell him soon—so don’t tattle on me, please.” He asks in a pleading tone.
Karen remains silent after that, which is a tiny bit unsettling to say the least.
A few minutes pass by and Peter stays where he is, trying to get a grip on himself. But it seems like he’s losing the fight here with the nausea bubbling up inside of his stomach.
Can this day get any worse? He thinks to himself.
The nausea steadily builds, followed by an uncomfortable churning deep within his stomach.
I guess it can get worse.
Peter bites his bottom lip as an attempt to keep it shut as he slowly stands up, holding onto the tree for support before he’s standing, blinking through the pain and dizziness he’s met with from the new position.
Hot saliva fills his mouth so suddenly, it takes him off guard.
He lifts his mask to his nose as he feels something horribly thick shoot up his throat, just in time before vomit spews out of his mouth and onto the grass at his feet. He hunches over on himself as he throws up, his head violently throbbing away.
When the round of puking is finally over, it leaves him feeling absolutely drained. His legs shake underneath him, threading to give out. He stays hunched over, his hands braced on his knees as he heavily breathes, his eyes tightly squeezes shut against the pain.
This is not good… not good at all.
“Peter?” A familiar, shocked voice suddenly says.
He doesn’t have to lift his head to know who it is when he feels a hand on his back. Peter squeezes his eyes shut with a pained groan, letting his head roll forward.
“What’s going on, Pete?” Tony worriedly asks.
Peter lets out a shaky sigh, still staying in the same position. “I-I really don’t feel good,” He says, feeling a lump form in his throat as he starts to get emotional. “I-I… I got hurt on patrol last night.”
Tony’s hand stills on his back. “What do you mean?”
“I-I hit my head a-and now… I-I feel really bad. I-I’m sorry—I-I’m so sorry,” Peter says, breaking out into a sob at the end. “I-I ruined Morgan’s party.”
“You didn’t, Pete—I promise. But for now, lets get you inside and see what we’re dealing with, alright?” Tony says.
Peter would nod if his head didn’t hurt so much.
The walk to the house is a blur as Tony supports him walking, seeing that Peter clearly can’t walk on his own. They make it up the porch steps, into the house and upstairs without anyone seeing them thankfully.
“Do you feel like you’re going to puke again?” Tony asks, pausing at the bathroom door.
“Don’t think so.. for now at least.” Peter mumbles out tiredly, heavily leaning against Tony’s side.
“Okay,” Tony says as he leads him down the hallway and to his bedroom, stepping inside and shutting the door behind them.
He helps Peter sit on the edge of his bed and slips off his mask carefully, only for Peter to tightly close his eyes at the sudden brightness and noise he’s met with since his sense blockers were on.
“How did you hit your head?” Tony asks as he leans down and starts to carefully inspect his head.
“The pigeons did it,” Peter tiredly says. “I couldn’t see with them all, so I hit a flag pole.”
“Pigeons and a flag pole?” Tony questions with no amusement in his voice.
“Mhmm.” Peter hums out in response.
“Can you open your eyes for me?” Tony gently asks.
Peter blinks open his eyes and looks up at Tony’s concerned face in front of him. Tony tilts his head back gently and looks into his eyes.
“I’d say you definitely have a concussion but with your symptoms… I think we should take a trip up to the Compound and have Bruce take a look at you, just to make sure nothing else is going on.”
Peter lets out a sigh, deciding he might as well not hide anything else from him. “W-Well… I think it’s related to it but… I’m having trouble remembering this morning.”
“What do you mean?” Tony asks, frowning.
“Well… I-I don’t remember waking up… or the drive up here.”
Tony’s eyes widen, seemingly alarmed at this. “You don’t remember anything from this morning?”
“No…”
Tony lets out a shaky breath. “Well that’s not good, Peter. You should have told me sooner .”
Peter’s shoulders drop. “I know… I’m sorry. I-I just didn’t want to ruin Morgan’s party.”
Tony shakes his head. “Forget the party. For now, we need to get you to Bruce,” He says as he takes his phone out and starts typing. “I’m going to tell Happy what’s going on so he can tell Pepper and May.” He says before pocketing his phone, focusing on him again. “Let’s get you out of your suit first.”
Embarrassingly enough, Peter needs Tony to help him get out of his suit and into a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie. This isn’t the first time someone has helped him change due to sickness or him being injured, but it’s still painfully awkward. He’s just grateful he didn’t forget to throw on a pair of boxers this morning.
When he’s all changed, Tony helps Peter stand back up, wrapping an arm around him for support.
“Let’s get you out to the car, kiddo.” He softly says with concern, walking out of Peter’s room.
“But what about Morgan’s party?”
“Don’t worry about it, Pete. Trust me, I planned for this in advance.” Tony tells him.
That causes Peter to raise an eyebrow at him. “What do you mean?”
“Well, given your history of getting yourself into trouble… I got a backup party guest to fill in your place.” Tony says with a small grin.
“Who?”
Tony chuckles as they start their way down the hallway to the stair case. “You’ll see.”
They head down the stairs, Tony keeping a tight, yet gentle grip on Peter as they go down. When they reach the bottom, Tony leads him over to the large window by the sink in the kitchen, gesturing with his head to outside. All of Morgan’s friends are in a circle, surrounded by a person dressed in a Spider-Man costume. The stand-in is clearly not him because they are too tall and little more muscular than him… but the kids don’t seem to be noticing.
Peter frowns, confused as he looks back at Tony. “Who’s—“
“Well,” Tony cuts him off with a chuckle, his smile widening. “Clint was already here before the team so…”
Despite how absolutely crappy he feels, Peter manages to laugh at that, pointing at the stand-in Spider-Man outside. “You mean to tell me… that’s Clint?”
“Yep.” Tony says with a nod, looking outside in amusement.
“Wow,” Peter says, managing a smile. “I’ll have to make it up to him later.”
Tony smiles as they turn away from the window and walk out of the kitchen, heading towards the front door. Peter shoves his feet in his sneakers before they step outside onto the front porch. Tony carefully leads him down the stairs and towards the car parked by the garage.
“Alright,” Tony says as he opens the front passenger door and helps him inside, grabbing a plastic bag from the glove box for him. “Here’s a bag, just in case you need it.” He says, giving him a sympathetic, knowing look.
Peter breathes out a sigh, letting his head fall back against the headrest. “Thanks.” He says.
Tony smiles before he closes the door and rounds the front of the car, getting in the driver’s seat, starting the car up once he shuts his door.
As they drive down the long gravel driveway, Peter closes his eyes, his brows pulling together tightly as pain and guilt over leaving Morgan’s party, flow through of him. They go over a small bump in the road, shaking the car slightly, causing Peter to let out a pained groan when his head is jostled, causing a particularly sharp pain to shoot through it and down his neck.
“Sorry, Pete.” Tony apologizes in sympathy from the driver’s seat.
“S’ okay.” Peter mumbles tiredly, afraid if he speaks any louder it would make the pain worse.
He’s so exhausted.
He wishes the pain could just go away.
…
In the thirty minute drive up to the Compound, Peter did indeed need that plastic bag Tony handed him. He’s thrown up twice now, each time causing him to be in even more misery when the pain kicks it up a few notches. Tony had given him a pair of his sunglasses to help with his headache, reducing the light from his sensitive eyes since his senses always dial up when he doesn’t feel good.
He’s now half-lying down with his seat pushes back, his face scrunched up in pain as they drive up the long driveway at the Compound.
“We’re almost there, Pete.” Tony tell him in a concerned voice.
Peter doesn’t have the energy to say or make a noise in return, he doesn’t even bother to open his eyes, fearing the brightness of the sun would just worsen the pain.
When the car finally rolls to a stop, Peter’s stomach isn’t churning as crazily as it was from the motion of the car. He hears Tony quickly get out of the driver’s side before he feels his door open.
“C’mon, kiddo let’s get you inside. The sooner Bruce can look you over, the sooner we can get you lying down in bed with some pain meds.” Tony softly tells him.
Peter manages to hum in response, blinking his eyes open underneath Tony’s dark aviator glasses. Tony helps him carefully sit up and get out of the car, but when Peter goes to stand up, his vision blurs and he can feel his legs wobble underneath him.
“Hey, hey, easy,” Tony says worriedly as he wraps an arm around his shoulders to keep him steady. “Are you okay?”
Peter squeezes his eyes shut under the sunglasses, trying to push away the horrible throbbing in his head. “I-I’m… a little dizzy.”
“Just take your time, Pete. There’s no rush, Bruce will still be there waiting for us.” Tony says with a hint of sarcasm but his voice still comes out concerned.
The Compound is quiet as they walk in through the automatic double doors, heading in the direction of the elevator in the lobby. Sam, Bucky, Vision and Natasha are all away on a mission overseas, Vision and Wanda are off on their own somewhere, leaving Bruce and Steve here to man the place.
Peter closes his eyes against the pain, nausea and lightheadedness flowing all around through him—and its pretty overwhelming to say the least. He just hopes he can have those pain meds he was promised sooner rather than later.
His legs are getting super heavy now and all he wants to do is just sit down.
As they near the elevator, the doors slide open, revealing Steve.
“Hey, Bruce told me what’s going on,” He says as he steps out, worriedly looking at Peter with a raised brow at the sunglasses on his face before looking at Tony. “He’s down in the medbay getting everything ready so he wanted me to bring you guys down,” He explains before looking back at Peter once again, his face softening with concern. “How are you feeling, Pete?”
Peter makes a sound at the back of his throat. “Really crappy.” He mumbles, too exhausted to talk.
Steve’s face softens even more into sympathy. “I’m sorry, but Bruce will have you fixed up in no time.”
Tony starts to lead Peter one again towards the elevator and the three of them get inside.
“Medbay, Friday.” Steve says once they are all settled in.
“Right away, Captain.”
The moment the elevator moves downwards, Peter feels like his stomach jumps to his throat, as a new and powerful wave of dizziness hits him.
“Whoa…” Peter murmurs as he blinks when black dots dance around in his vision, feeling himself dangerously sway to the side.
“Pete, you okay?” Tony rushed out, his voice tense with concern as he quickly grabs and steadies him.
Peter blinks but he feels worse and worse with every passing second. He closes his eyes and shakes his head slowly. A sharp ringing starts to slowly fill his ears.
“I… I don’ feel so good…” he mumbles.
The ringing in his ears gets louder and he is can’t hear the words that come out of Tony and Steve’s lips. Peter’s legs suddenly give out without any warning and Tony isn’t able to catch him in time before his knees collide against the elevator floor, causing a vibration of pain to flow up his legs.
“-eter! Shit—Steve!” Tony’s voice filters in and out of his ears, sounding far away.
Peter is barely aware of the hands on him as his eyes roll to the back of his head under Tony’s sunglasses, before he blacks out, aware of no more.
…
A soft, rhythmic beeping fills his ears as consciousness slowly flows back to Peter. The first thing he’s instantly aware of is the fact that he isn’t in any excruciating pain anymore. He can feel his brows slowly pull together in a frown as he struggles to open his eyes with how exhausted he is. He already knows that he must be in his room in the medbay, judging by how comfy he feels in bed.
And by how foggy and mushy his brain feels, he can tell that Bruce put him on the good stuff.
Peter manages to slowly crack his eyes open after a few moments of struggling, relieved to see that the room is cast in a soft, golden light of a nearby lamp on the nightstand.
It’s warm and peaceful, unlike the usual bright, white LED lighting like your typical medical setting.
He sluggishly blinks a few more times as he slowly rolls his head to the side, finding Tony sitting in his usual spot in the chair at his bedside, typing into his phone.
A tired smile tugs at the corner of Peter’s mouth, feeling his chest warm a little.
Tony’s always been at his side when he’s waken up from being injured or sick and his presence is always so comforting, immediately washing away any fears he has had upon waking up.
Seeing Tony always makes him feel that way.
Tony must sense his eyes on him because he looks up, smiling when he sees him. “Hey, Pete,” He softly says, slipping his phone into his pocket as he leans forward in his seat, reaching forward and brushes a stray hair from Peter’s forehead.
Peter unconsciously leans into his hand, closing his eyes.
“How are you feeling, kiddo?” Tony asks.
“Mhhh…” Peter hums as he slowly blinks his heavy eyes open again. “Loopy.”
A chuckle escapes from Tony at that.
“Yeah, Bruce has you on some heavy pain meds right now. And speaking of which…” He says, pausing, giving him his signature soft, yet stern ‘Dad’ look. “You got very very lucky this time around, Pete. Bruce brought you back for a CT scan and he saw that you had some swelling going on in your brain—thank God it wasn’t as bad as it could have been but you would be in a lot worse shape if you didn’t have your healing factor, that’s for sure. And not to mention the severe concussion you’re sporting, which he’s also assuming you might have a tiny bit of memory loss from, which he says can be expected with a head injury like yours—which would also explain why you seemed so confused when you got to the house earlier today. He’s been able to fix the swelling and everything else, but you’re still healing and that means that you’re on bed rest for the next couple of days and you’re taking a week or two off from patrolling. Capeesh?”
He’s definitely drugged up because he doesn’t feel any disappointment or need to argue at that.
“C’peech.” Peter slurs out in response.
Tony’s stern expression drops, being replaced by a humored smile. “We’ll talk about it later when you’re a little more awake and feeling better. But for now, you need to get some rest and let your body do its thing and heal.”
Peter nods, feeling the corner of his mouth turn up into a small, probably a dopey-looking smile. “M’kay.” He slurs.
Tony smiles, shaking his head to himself as he reaches up and starts to card his fingers through Peter’s hair, careful of the bump on his forehead from him hitting the flag pole.
Peter breathes out a soft, long sigh of relief, letting his eyes shut, leaning against Tony’s hand.
“S’ the pigeon’s fault.” Peter mumbles.
Tony laughs suddenly at that. “It’s the pigeon’s fault?” He repeats in question.
“Mhmm… they m’de me hit the pole.” He says, his brows pulling together.
He feels Tony’s calloused thumb start to gently rub over the spot in the middle of is brows, gently rubbing away his frown.
“Well I’m sure they’re sorry.” Tony tells him but he can’t tell if he means it or he’s being serious.
He feels Tony’s hand go back to his head, his fingers resuming to card through his hair. It’s his secret weapon he uses on him whenever he’s trying to get him to go to sleep and it works every time, embarrassing enough.
But it’s okay though because it’s Tony.
Peter can feel himself starting to drift back off to sleep, his head rolling to the side of his pillow.
“There you go, Pete,” Tony softly tells him. “You just go back to sleep and rest.”
Peter’s breaths are now coming out slower and deeper with the promise of sleep soon to come.
“Love you, Dad…” Peter mumbles out.
The hand in his hair stills for a brief few seconds before it continues.
“I…” Tony pauses, sounding a little choked up. “I love you too, Pete.”
It’s the last thing Peter hears before he falls back to sleep, knowing Tony is there to watch over him.