Peter and New York

Quiet down

lil bit of blood warning. The one where Peter is told to be quiet while he bleeds out... and he complies.

Peter and the Avengers were fighting a mix of villains when it happened. Peter was split apart from the rest of the group and everyone was fighting their own battles. The burning buildings fogged up the streets with a mucky, thick cloud of billowing smoke. It was thicker then most smoke and Peter Parker was in the middle of the thickest cloud.

He had tried to move away from the polluted air, but the bug creations he was fighting, kept pushing him straight back into the middle. He was working on the last creature when a large pipe was shoved into his stomach; it stood up filling up with blood like some kind of messed up fountain; dripping red coating his already red suit.

He cried out in pain as he killed the last monster, the pipe jostling making his mouth fill with blood and bile. He slowly laid on the asphalt, his lungs were too full of smoke to think clearly, and he laid there in a puddle of his blood, tears, and mixed up fears.

In his earpiece he heard some grunts from the others who were still fighting.

The coms... the coms! He still had communication with the others!

He tried to speak but the words came out mumbled and muffled. He tried to speak for awhile until he could do so properly.

"Hey, I need some help, please." He got out. He heard a few more pained grunts and yells from the others but no one responded right away.

"We all need help, Peter. Wait your turn like the rest of us." Cap's voice came through sweet as honey, yet Peter felt like poison oozed out instead; dripping in thick droplets, and when they fell, they burned through every surface.

"But I have a pipe, here that's stuck—"

"Peter. We are all fighting off the villains. Please wait." Stephen Strange commanded him, giving no room for argument.

"But please, it hurts..."

"Shut up, Peter! We are all busy right now. We'll help you fight off the big scary bugs when we're done. Leave it to the adults, or grow up and hold them off until we can reach you." Peter couldn't tell whether that was Steve or Stephen because his mind was filling with too many things to focus on such a stupid thing.

"Okay. I'm sorry. I'll wait." Peter said quietly as he dug deeper into the dirty floor.

He received an affirming response from someone but he couldn't hear them. His mask wasn't filtering the air any longer, and his lungs and eyes felt heavy. Like someone was sitting on his chest and pulling his eyelids down. But he refused to close his eyes. He wouldn't.

He wouldn't.

He did.

...

The Avengers finished beating up the bug-men before they remembered they forgot about their youngest member. When they did remember, they weren't worried. They had all agreed that the kid helped himself, and didn't need anymore help considering he didn't ask for any after their conversation.

So they found his location, and lazily sauntered around looking for him while they chatted. Scott stopped abruptly and looked at the location device.

"Guys, he hasn't moved from his spot for a while... and I'm barely getting a reading on his suit." He said worriedly; his eyes widened in fear and he ran. They all did. They bolted from their spot only to find their arachnid super kid with a pipe sticking out of his stomach and blood everywhere within a four foot radius.

A sour taste formed in their mouths as they saw his unconscious form crumpled in the wreckage of an old building, just lying in the road. His head was split on the side and his face was all purple, green, and yellow from all the bruises. His arm was bent at an angle arms shouldn't be, and he wasn't moving.

He wasn't moving.

Faster then lightning they had Peter up and on a quinjet.

They all held their breath as they waited in the med-bay in Stark Industries. Tony had been out of the country on a business trip with Pepper and Nat when they received news that Peter was in critical condition due to some idiots and their lack of care to a certain someone lying in a hospital bed.

When Tony returned he was angry, no, he was livid. He had trusted these people with his son and they let him get stabbed in the stomach to bleed out in the streets of New York.

So, yes, you could say that Tony Stark was ready to rip off someone's head and throw them out a window. He had tried it too, multiple times; but Pepper held him back every time. However, to say Pepper or Nat weren't mad would be like saying that anime is stupid, it would be incorrect.

They were even more ticked off then Tony. But alas, they all sat waiting for the doctors to tell them it was alright for them to go in.

Peter had gone through two different surgeries in the last eight hours and the Avengers were up and alert the whole time. Tony was pulling his own hair out as he sat crouched over himself, all the while Pepper was rubbing small circles on his back trying to calm both him and herself.

...

When Peter opened his eyes he felt a thick rod in his throat, filling his lungs with fresh air; pushing the old smoke away from his lungs. He had woken up more times then he'd like to count like this, so the sensation of having an air tube in his throat didn't surprise him. What did surprise him, was the amount of pain his body was in.

His stomach felt like someone had taken a needle and injected fire into his veins around that area. His arm was most definitely broken, and his head felt like he got hit with a bolder.

He blinked a few more times and watched his dad walk into the room, looking around the room worriedly before his gaze landed on Peter and he sighed deeply. His eye bags were evident to Peter, but he didn't mind at the time; he was focusing more on the tears in his adopted father's eyes as he rushed across the room to kiss Peter on the forehead repeatedly.

Peter hugged his dad and then leaned back in his bed. He was tired and needed to sleep. He squeezed Tony's hand and he nodded to his son to in understanding.

The next time Peter woke was when the doors opened and a nurse came in. She chirped happily about her day and asked him "yes or no" questions, to which he gently nodded or shook his head. He did still have a tube down his throat after all. She told him they were going to take him off air and needed to pull out the tube. He nodded hesitantly and watched as a doctor came to pull it out.

The getting out wasn't so bad, but the feeling was... grotesque. The slimy rod slid out of his throat like a giraffe going down a slide; bumpity and confused why it was there.

After the nurse left Peter felt another presence enter the room; he looked up to find the Avengers standing apologetically by the door.

"I'm really sorry I bothered you guys with my problems. You guys were busy and I should've figured out how to stay awake until you got there." Peter hung his head low and didn't see the faces his family was making.

"Peter, it's not your fault. We should have listened to you, or gave you advice on how to get out of the smoke, or sent you home or something. But we, I didn't, and I deeply regret it. Please forgive me." Steve folded his hands and looked at the floor as he spoke.

Peter only nodded.

"Is Dad here? Can I talk to him please?" He asked suddenly, startling the others in the room. They nodded and all shuffled out before his father took their place in the hospital room.

"Hey, kiddo. You had me and your mom worried. Auntie Nat was ripping out her hair calling people about your condition." Tony chuckled lightly. It didn't sound happy though. It sounded worried, scared, and tired.

"I'm sorry, Dad. I should have been more careful."

"No. It's not your fault, champ. You did great." He gently ruffled the kid's messy hair.

"If you say so,"

"I do say so."

"Okay. Can I have a cheeseburger?" He changed the subject but Tony laughed before nodding.

Peter would be fine and the Avengers would be cleaning the tower as punishment for years to come.