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The sky slowly comes into view as Peter blinks open his eyes. But instead of appreciating the twinkling stars that greet him, he immediately shuts them in an effort to stop the throbbing pain in his skull.
Unfortunately, that does nothing to dull the pain. And to make matters worse, the concrete under him offers his aching head and body zero cushioning.
Wait a minute… why is he sleeping outside?
His eyes snap back open and he quickly shoves himself up into a sitting position. But before he can figure out where he is, his surroundings start to spin and he is overwhelmed with nausea.
“Easy, Peter,” the soothing voice of his AI, Karen, says. “You took quite the hit to your head. I believe you have a concussion.”
Her voice startles him, and also draws his attention to the fact that he’s wearing his suit - which he can’t remember putting on. If he’s wearing the suit, he must have been out on patrol. But he doesn’t remember that either.
After trying to remember the events of the night is met with little success, he turns his attention to his AI. “Uh, Karen? What happened?”
“You were attempting to stop an act of grand theft auto, but you were hit over the head with a crowbar in the process. You were unable to dodge the blow in the confines of the car,” Karen promptly answers.
“I don’t remember any of that,” he says, shaking his head and immediately regretting the action as pain shoots through it and things start to spin again.
“Memory loss is a common side effect of concussions, ” Karen states matter of factly.
Thinking back to this morning, he can remember having breakfast and leaving for school. He can remember what happened at school and the history test he aced. The memories of coming home and eating dinner with May are there too; he just can’t remember leaving for patrol or what happened during it.
“You should be seen by a doctor to confirm that there is no internal damage. Would you like me to contact Mr. Stark? ” Karen asks when he doesn’t say anything.
“Mr. Stark is on vacation,” he says quickly. “No way am I gonna bother him because I got a bump on the head. I’ll just go home and sleep it off.”
“That is not advisable, Peter, ” Karen says.
“I’ve been hit over the head plenty of times. I’ll be fine,” he assures her.
He gets the feeling that the AI doesn’t agree, but she doesn’t push him on it and goes silent instead.
The thought of getting up and walking home is not at all a pleasant one; all this talking and thinking has left Peter feeling tired. The ground isn’t looking as uncomfortable as it felt a few minutes ago… but he can’t sleep on a random sidewalk in his Spider-Man suit. Anyone could come and unmask him. So he pushes that idea away and rises to his feet instead.
Or at least he tries to.
As soon as he is partially standing, dizziness overpowers his senses and sends him tumbling back to the ground.
He tries again, slower this time, and actually manages to stay standing. But the dizziness doesn’t subside. And when he tries to take a step, his balance fails him and he ends up on the concrete once again.
All this movement encourages his head to continue pounding. He doesn’t know how he’s supposed to get home if he can’t even stand.
He wishes Mr. Stark wasn’t on vacation. It would be so easy for Karen to call him and ask for help. But that’s not an option, because he doesn’t want to inconvenience the man while he’s supposed to be off enjoying himself - even if said man could help while thousands of miles away. He would probably send a suit or call for Happy to take him home.
Happy… he could call Happy instead.
No. That’s not an option either. Despite the fact that the two see each other several times a week and spend plenty of time in the car together, Happy has made it very clear that he is only allowed to call him if it’s an emergency.
This hasn’t always been the case; he used to call him all the time. But he supposes that’s why he now has the emergency only rule; he deserves it after how many times he called just to recap his day or tell him a random fun fact.
But maybe this counts as an emergency?
No. An emergency would involve someone dying. Which thankfully, he’s not. But even if it’s not a true emergency, maybe Happy would understand just this once?
He’d hate to make him mad though. But he’d also hate to have to stay on this sidewalk all night.
Before he can overthink it any more than he already has, he says, “Karen, call Happy.”
“Of course, Peter. Calling Happy Hogan, ” Karen replies.
Peter cringes as the sound of the call ringing fills his ears. But being ever the attentive AI, Karen adjusts it to a lower volume without being asked.
Just as he thinks the call is about to go to voicemail, it connects. “I swear if you just woke me up to tell me about some kitten you pulled out of a tree, I’m going to hang up,” the sleepy voice of Happy answers.
“I’m so sorry, Happy. I didn’t mean to wake you up,” Peter quickly apologizes, instantly feeling bad.
“Yeah, I’m sure you didn’t,” Happy grumbles. “Now are you going to tell me why I’m on the phone instead of sleeping?”
“Oh, yeah. Well, I was out on patrol- wait, I guess I’m still out on patrol. Anyway, some bad guy hit me in the head. And now my head really hurts and I can’t stand straight, and Karen says I might have a concussion? So yeah… I kinda might need some help getting home- if you have time and don’t mind. But if you can’t, I totally understand,” Peter says, the words all coming out in a rush as he hurries to explain.
A sigh comes from the other side of the line before Happy says, “Stay put. I’ll be right there.”
The phone disconnects before Peter can say anything else.
With nothing to do but wait for Happy to show up, he closes his eyes and tries to ignore his headache. Once he gets home, he’ll be able to take some of the super strength pain killers that Mr. Stark made for him. But until then, he’ll just have to suffer through it.
He must doze off, because the next thing he knows, a car is pulling up next to the sidewalk he sits on. And the headlights that are now shining on him are much too bright.
He shields his eyes from the blinding light, wincing as the sound of a car door slamming pierces through his ears.
Footsteps approach him, and he forces himself to look at the source of them. “Oh, hey Happy.”
“Don’t you have a tingle to prevent this sort of shit?” Happy says in lieu of a greeting. “You know, so that you can dodge getting whacked in the head?”
“Don’t call it that,” Peter whines before continuing. “And yeah, but Karen said there wasn’t any room for me to avoid it since I was in the car with the guy when it happened.”
Happy rolls his eyes. “Didn’t your aunt ever teach you not to get in cars with strangers?”
“Happy!” Peter exclaims, clearly not amused.
“Alright, come on. The quicker we get going, the quicker I get to be back in bed. Let’s go,” Happy says, gesturing towards the car.
Not wanting to ask for help, Peter slowly stands. The action makes his head spin, and the world goes blurry for a moment as he sways back and forth.
“Shit,” Happy says, his voice softening as he reaches out to steady him. “They got ya good, huh?”
Peter hums in response, accepting the help that Happy offers and leaning on the man as they make their way to the car.
Once he is safely seated in the back, hidden behind the tinted windows, he pulls his mask off and slouches in his seat. “Thanks for coming. I’m sorry for calling you.”
“Sorry? Why the hell are you sorry?” Happy asks.
“Because I know I’m not supposed to unless it’s an emergency. I just didn’t know what else to do,” Peter says as he leans his aching head against the window.
Happy sighs before saying, “I think finding you zoned out on the sidewalk counts as an emergency. And kid, you’re allowed to call if you need something. Just as long as you’re not calling to talk my ear off.”
“Thanks, Happy,” Peter says, smiling as he tucks that permission away for later. “You can just drop me off at my apartment. I’ll be fine after a good night’s sleep.”
This earns a scoff from Happy. “Tony would kill me if I let you go sleep off a head injury. Absolutely not - you’re going to the tower to get checked out in the medbay.”
“But Happy,” Peter protests. “It’s just a bump on the head.”
“Just a bump on the head…” Happy echoes in disbelief. “You said Karen thought you had a concussion.”
“Well… yeah, I guess she did,” Peter admits.
“Exactly. Which means your ass is going to the medbay,” Happy says, leaving no room for negotiation. “And if I hear another word of protest out of you, I’ll take back what I said about being allowed to call me.”
“If I don’t complain can I have texting privileges too?” Peter asks.
In response, Happy closes the divider between the front and back sections of the car.
“Guess that’s a no.”