Work Text:
“Karen?”
“Yes, Peter?”
“How do you clean and stitch a gunshot wound?”
There was a brief pause.
“Contacting Mr. Stark.”
“No…no Karen don’t.” Peter winced as he pressed a hand over his side. “You can’t, he can’t know.”
“I’m sorry, Peter. It is part of the baby monitoring protocol.”
“What?” Peter stared at the ceiling. “What do you mean baby monitoring protocol?”
“The protocol established by Mr. Stark requires me to notify him of any significant injury.”
“WHAT? I thought Ned got rid of all that!”
“Ned attempted to remove the protocol. He was unsuccessful.”
“Of course he was.”
“Mr. Stark has been notified.”
“Karen!”
“Hello, Peter.”
Peter froze.
That voice.
His stomach dropped.
“Hi, Dad.”
“Why is Karen telling me you got shot?”
Peter swallowed.
“You were supposed to be at Ned’s tonight, working on your project.”
“I know, Dad and I was, I swear. But there was this robbery and—”
“Peter.”
The disappointment in Tony’s voice somehow hurt worse than the bullet.
“I know,” Peter mumbled.
“We talked about this. You have to let someone know when you're going out. Whether it's patrol or something like this. You can't just disappear.”
“Yeah, yeah I know.”
“No, not ‘yeah yeah’ You could have died.”
Peter looked down at his bloodied shirt.
“I know.”
Tony was quiet for a second.
Then his voice changed.
“Where are you?”
Peter hesitated.
“Peter.”
“I'm...somewhere.”
“That's not an answer.”
“I'm in an alley.”
“Which alley?”
Peter gave him the name.
There was another pause.
“I'm five minutes out. Sit tight and do not move. Do you understand me?”
“Okay.”
“Peter.”
“I understand.”
“Good.”
The call ended.
Peter let his head fall back against the brick wall.
Five minutes.
He could handle five minutes.
Probably.
“Karen?”
“Yes, Peter?”
“Can you at least help me stop the bleeding?”
“I can provide medical instructions.”
“Great.”
“However, I cannot assist you in removing the bullet.”
“Why?”
“Because you are not medically qualified.”
Peter stared blankly ahead.
“Karen, I was just shot.”
“Yes, Peter.”
“I feel like that should count for something.”
“It does not change your medical qualifications.”
◇◇◇
Peter stared at the empty alley.
Five minutes.
He could do five minutes.
He'd been through worse.
Probably.
“Okay,” he whispered to himself. “Just gotta clean this up a bit.”
“Peter, I would advise against moving.”
“I know.”
“You were specifically instructed by Mr. Stark not to move.”
“I know, Karen.”
“You are currently moving.”
“I know!”
Peter carefully pushed himself away from the wall.
Pain immediately shot through his side.
“Oh, that was a bad idea.”
His knees buckled.
He caught himself against the brick wall, breathing hard through his teeth.
“Okay. Definitely a bad idea.”
“Peter, your heart rate has increased.”
“Thank you, Karen. Super helpful.”
“You're welcome.”
Peter pulled the first aid supplies from the suit's emergency compartment. Tony had apparently thought of everything. Bandages, disinfectant, gauze, and even a tiny pair of medical scissors.
No needle.
No thread.
No way to stitch it.
“Karen?”
“Yes, Peter?”
“Hypothetically, if someone were to stitch a gunshot wound themselves, what would they use?”
“Mr. Stark has instructed me not to provide you with information that could result in further injury.”
“Right.”
Peter sighed.
“Worth asking.”
He peeled back the ripped section of his suit.
The bullet had gone through, which was good.
Probably.
Except there was a lot of blood, which was definitely not good.
Peter stared at it for a moment.
“Oh.”
His face went pale.
“Karen?”
“Yes?”
“I think I'm gonna pass out.”
“Please remain conscious.”
“I'm trying.”
Peter pressed the gauze against the wound.
Pain exploded through his side.
“Ah!”
His hand slipped.
The gauze fell.
“Okay,” Peter breathed. “Okay don't panic.”
“Mr. Stark will arrive in approximately two minutes.”
“That's not enough time.”
“For what, Peter?”
“To make this look less bad.”
“Peter, Mr. Stark is already aware that you have been shot.”
“Yeah, but I don't need him seeing the blood.”
“Mr. Stark is aware that you are bleeding.”
“I know!”
Peter grabbed the gauze again and tried to secure it.
His fingers were shaking.
“Come on.”
The sound of a car pulling up at the end of the alley made him freeze.
“Oh no.”
The car door slammed.
Peter looked down at himself.
Blood covered suit.
Blood on the ground.
Blood on his hands.
“Karen?”
“Yes, Peter?”
“Can you make me unconscious?”
“No.”
“Can you at least make it look like I'm unconscious?”
“No.”
“Can you turn off the lights?”
“No.”
“Can you lie to Dad?”
“No.”
“I'm beginning to think you're not actually on my side.”
“I am always on your side, Peter.”
Footsteps echoed through the alley.
Fast.
Angry.
Terrified.
Peter recognized them immediately.
“Peter!”
“Hi, Dad.”
Tony rounded the corner and stopped dead.
For half a second, he didn't move.
His eyes went straight to the blood.
Then to Peter.
Then back to the blood.
“Jesus Christ.”
“It's not that bad.”
Tony's expression sharpened.
“Don't say that.”
“Okay.”
Tony crossed the distance between them in seconds.
“Let me see.”
“Dad—”
“Peter.”
The tone left no room for arguing.
Peter slowly moved his hand.
Tony saw the wound.
His face changed.
Not panic.
Not exactly.
Something worse.
Fear carefully shoved down beneath years of experience.
“How long have you been sitting here?”
“Like...ten minutes?”
“Ten minutes?”
“Maybe fifteen.”
“Peter.”
“I didn't know what else to do!”
“You call me.”
“I know.”
“You call me before you start bleeding all over an alley.”
“I know.”
Tony crouched in front of him and gently pressed fresh gauze against the wound.
Peter sucked in a sharp breath.
“Sorry.”
“It's okay.”
Tony looked at the blood on Peter's suit.
“You said you were going to Ned's.”
“I was.”
“And then you went on patrol.”
“No I didn't go on patrol.”
Tony raised an eyebrow.
“There was a robbery.”
“You just happened to be walking past a robbery?”
“Yeah.”
“In the Spider-Man suit?”
Peter paused.
“....Technically.”
Tony closed his eyes.
“Of course.”
“Dad—”
“No. Save it.”
Peter's shoulders dropped.
Tony noticed.
His voice softened immediately.
“Hey.”
Peter looked at him.
“I'm not mad.”
“You're definitely mad.”
“I am terrified.”
That shut Peter up.
Tony looked down at the wound again.
“You scared the hell out of me, kid.”
Peter swallowed.
“I'm sorry.”
Tony carefully wrapped the gauze around him.
“You don't have to apologize for getting hurt.”
“I kinda do.”
“No.”
Tony looked him directly in the eyes.
“You apologize for hiding it.”
Peter looked away.
“Yeah.”
“And for trying to stitch yourself up in an alley.”
“I didn't actually do that.”
“You asked Karen how.”
“Technically, yes.”
Tony sighed.
“Kid.”
“Sorry.”
Tony shook his head.
Then he pulled Peter carefully into his arms.
Peter froze for a second before leaning into him.
“I'm okay,” Peter whispered.
“I know.”
Tony held him tighter.
“You're going to be okay.”
Peter nodded against his shoulder.
“Am I grounded?”
Tony was quiet.
“Extremely.”
Peter groaned.
“Come on.”
“You got shot.”
“I know.”
“You hid it.”
“I know.”
“You tried to fix it yourself.”
“I know.”
“You ignored your emergency contact protocol.”
“Karen betrayed me.”
Tony glanced toward the suit.
“Karen did exactly what I programmed her to do.”
“Still feels like betrayal.”
Tony almost smiled.
“Come on, let's get you home.”
Peter let Tony help him stand.
His legs immediately wobbled.
Tony caught him.
“Easy.”
“I've got it.”
“No, you don't.”
“I do.”
“Peter.”
“Okay. You have it.”
Tony slipped an arm around his back and carefully helped him toward the car.
Behind them, Karen's voice came through the suit.
“Peter?”
“What?”
“You are currently violating Mr. Stark's instruction to remain still.”
Peter looked at Tony.
Tony looked at Peter.
“Karen,” Peter said quietly, “please stop talking.”
“You're welcome, Peter.”
“I hate you.”
“I know.”
Tony snorted.
“You're definitely my kid.”