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Peter awoke to blinding pain in his stomach. He couldn’t really tell what was happening. He remembered fighting with the avengers, and then… he’d gone into a building to save some civilians. It had collapsed. Of course his Parker Luck would land him under another collapsed building. And to make matters worse, he was actually injured this time. How? He couldn’t exactly tell, but he was having difficulty breathing and the pain in his stomach was getting increasingly worse.
He opened his eyes. It was difficult, with the dust invading them as soon as they cracked open, but he managed, and started to take stock of his surroundings. He realised that he wasn’t wearing his mask, and looked to his side to see it lying there along with his comm set that had fallen out. The building was pressing down on top of him but there was something holding it up and preventing it from crashing down on him. He tried to reach out to grab his comms but winced when his stomach twinged with more pain.
Looking down at the source of the pain, Peter gasped to see it was a thick pole sticking out of his stomach. Just seeing that made it hurt worse, the pain coming in wave after wave. Blood was drying tackily around the wound, but Peter didn’t seem to be bleeding too much because the pole was keeping the wound pressurised.. Peter must have been there for at least a few minutes for the blood to be drying like that, though.
Peter coughed and the pain intensified, and he decided that he would hold in future coughs to prevent extra pain. What was not negotiable, though, was getting his comm. He assumed due to the amount of rubble that his suit’s tracker was offline, so he needed to direct the Avenger’s on where to get him.
Trying to push the pain to the back of his mind to the best of his abilities, Peter reached over and grabbed one of the two comms lying on the floor. His stomach screamed in protest but Peter tried to ignore it, shoving the comm into his ear. Immediate chatter started, making him wince in sensory overload. He tried his best to ignore it though, yelling through the panicked chatter “Guys! Can you hear me?”
The comm immediately went quiet for a second before there were multiple signs of relief and Peter heard Tony speak next. “Underoos, where are you?” His mentor sounded frantic, so Peter assumed he’d been offline for a while.
“Uh, I’m kinda under that one collapsed building. Can you come get me?”
The comm went silent again for a second before more frantic chatter started, everyone sounding worried. Steve spoke next.
“We’re coming, kid. Stay where you are.”
Peter nodded, before remembering they couldn’t hear him. “Uh, okay,” he said, feeling a bit faint. “I am about to pass out though so if you could be quick…”
The frantic chatter started again, but Peter could barely hear it. He was getting sleepy…
Peter woke up to the beeping and blinding white lights of medbay. He squinted, and heard someone — Tony — say “FRI, lights to 10%”
The violent assault on his eyes faded and Peter relaxed in relief, opening his eyes fully. The very worried face of one Tony Stark swam in his vision, hair messy and eyes concerned.
“You gave us quite a scare, kid,” his mentor stated, the worry on his face carrying to his voice. His voice sounded floaty, though. Like it was on a fluffy white cloud.
“Sorry, Mr Stark,” Peter mumbled, and noted his voice sounded much more slurred than usual. Tony chuckled.
“They put you on the good stuff, huh?”
Oh. That made sense why Peter couldn’t feel any pain in his abdomen. He looked down to see a hospital gown-clad body with clear bandages underneath on the torso section.
“What happened?” Peter asked, curious.
“We found you passed out with a pole through your abdomen. Brought you to medbay and you got surgery. You were there for hours, bud.”
Peter smiled goofily. “Another surgery to add to my long, long list.”
Tony sighed in exasperation, even though he was probably used to Peter’s antics by now. “This isn’t a joke, Pete. You could’ve died.”
Peter frowned. “It wasn’t my fault! Clint told me to go rescue civilians, so I did. S’not my fault it collapsed.”
“I know, Bambino,” Tony whispered, ruffling Peter’s hair. “We just want you to be safe. We love you. You scared us.”
“Sorry,” Peter saif meekly. “Love you too.”
Tony smiled. “You’re a good kid, just stay out of collapsing buildings from now on, huh.”
Huh, that reminded Peter… This was his second time he’d gotten trapped under a collapsed building. That had to be a milestone or something, right?
“Yeah two buildings is enough for one lifetime,” Peter joked, and then immediately realised his mistake.
“Two?” Tony said, looking far more concerned than he had before.
“Um,” Peter tried to backtrack, but he couldn’t just pass this off as a mistake. Tony had definitely noticed. “I was gonna tell you—“
“When was this?” Tony asked softly, sounding more concerned than angry which confused Peter.
“Uh…” Peter knew if he told Tony he would blame himself, but Tony could definitely tell if he lied. “It was after you took my suit away. With the Vulture.”
Tony’s eyes widened. “Oh, bambino I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry Mr Stark it wasn’t—“
“It was my fault. Maybe not fully but somewhat. I’m so sorry squirt,” Tony apologised again.
“I don’t blame you. It was the vulture guy’s fault. Not yours. I love you Mr Stark.”
Tony immediately softened. “I love you too, Pete. Do you wanna see the others now?”
“Yeah,” Peter said. “I do.”