infection (irondad)

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(in which Peter gets shot and peels the bullet out himself, assuming his super healing will do the job. But it doesn't.

Buckle in this is 4k words

Props to whoever suggested this bc I forgot their user 😍😍😍)

There was a bang.

Then, not even a second after, a searing, burning, horrible. Terrible. Awful. Agonizing pain in his arm.

"Come on man!" He shouted at the robber who'd launched the bullet unexpectedly at him, "I'll give it to you! I didn't see it coming! But I'll be taking that." He said as he shot a web out of his good arm and snatched the gun away, then he sent a web grenade and pinned him to the wall next to the ATM he was trying to break into.

"Jeez that really hurts!" He said, blinking away tears and putting a hand over the bloody hole in his arm.

"Peter, you appear to have a wound. Would you like me to direct you to the Stark Tower and contact Mr. Stark?" His AI Karen asked.

"Uhhhh, no thanks actually. I can handle this myself I think. I don't think it's that deep, I'll get it out when I get home and then let it heal up. Thanks though, K." He said back, biting the sides of his cheeks in pain.

"I highly recommend going to get this wound treated, are you sure? It could get infected." Karen warned.

"Nah don't worry about it. I'll be fine, I'm spiderman!" He said back, enthusiastic despite the worsening pain.

When he got back to his apartment, he found May was working the night shift, so he peeled off his suit and got to work. He set up in his bathroom, well actually his bathtub. He figured it would be easier to wash away the blood by being in a easily cleanable place.

He got a pair of tweezers and a lighter, washed his hands, then disinfected the tweezers the way he always saw on survival shows and from when his Aunt May told him stories of how she pierced her own ears when she was in middle school. They got infected anyways, so maybe it wasn't the best way he could have been doing it... But that didn't matter. He pushed on.

He did his best to clean around the wound with alcohol wipes, biting back tears as he did.

Then he picked up his tweezers, but hesitated as a pained tear escaped down his cheek.

He paused and went to get a hand towel, rolled it up as tight as he could, and stuck it in his mouth. Gauze and bandages were ready on the edge of the bathtub.

With a deep breath, he sent the tweezers into the wound.

He bit down onto the towel, resisting a scream as his body completely rejected the tool. Hot tears were flying down his cheeks. Resisting his discomfort (extreme discomfort) as he felt around for the bullet.

With a pained groan he pushed further in with the tweezers. He hit the bullet when the tweezers were 3/4ths of the way into his arm. He felt sick just thinking about it.

It was much deeper than he thought.

He grabbed the bullet with the tweezers and pulled, but felt the tweezers snap shut in his arm as he lost grip of the small metal object.

He shrieked and a flood of tears fell down his cheeks. He bit into the towel, hard, he could feel his mouth becoming dry from it.

He reached in farther, yelling into the towel, biting down hard and he wriggled his way back around the bullet, squeezed as hard as he could, and pulled it out.

Immediately after it was out he dropped everything. The tweezers and bullet came clattering to the floor of the tub and blood was dripping heavily down his arm.

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