Whumptober 2023 ~ Marvel Edition

'How Many Fingers am I Holding Up?' - Peter Parker

Day 1:

"But now this room is spinning while I'm trying just to fill in all the gaps."
Safety Net | Swooning | "How many fingers am I holding up?"

~~~

Pure adrenaline.

That was all Peter was sure was flowing through his veins - not blood, but adrenaline. What other reason would there be for his thoughts to leave his mind, only to be replaced by pure instinct and this feeling like he might jump out of his own body? The air rapidly and forcefully pushing his head and body every which way made it hard to see and hear, but somehow, he knew which way was down, because he could feel his body being ripped away from the sky above. Peter had fallen from his webbing before, but never like this. Never this high up. And never with his hands bound together.

Despite no actual coherent thoughts being present inside his head, he knew that was the first thing that needed to happen; if he was going to save himself, he needed to get his hands free. The wire tangled around his wrists was tight and even a bit painful, but Peter had faith that if he concentrated, he would be able to get it off on time.

He could vaguely make out the sound of his teammates calling out for him in his ear piece, but Peter paid no attention to that, his focus solely on the task in front of him. Peter knew he only had enough room inside his head for one thing at a time, and he knew that the most important thing right now was to get himself free, not listen to whatever troubled screams seemed to be coming from his team.

As Peter loosened up the wire a bit, he felt as if maybe he could slide it off without further intervention, though he knew it would be hard. He was proven right when the wire tightened around the widest part of his hand. With a silent curse of frustration and fear, Peter's hand scrambled for the knot once again and clawed desperately at the wire.

He could feel the skin tearing away at the base of his hands, but Peter didn't have time to worry about that; he could barely see through the wind-induced tears in his eyes that the ground was getting scarily close. As long as he was alive, who cared if his wrists were a little banged up? Peter held his breath in an attempt to distract himself from the pain - not that he could breathe very well anyways with the wind rushing past his face - and pulled, and pulled, until finally, with a loud grunt, the wire gave way.

His eyes lit up and he immediately shifted himself to use his web shooters. He threw a large web down towards the bottom levels of the skyscraper he was falling next to so that the web would break his fall. With less than a hundred feet until he hit the ground, it seemed as though he was just in time, too.

The adrenaline faded a little, Peter's fear loosened its grip on him and he somewhat calmly let himself land in his web. He was face down, so it wasn't the most graceful of landings, but it's not like he had a ton of control over how he landed; he was just grateful that he'd landed at all.

That gratefulness was quickly replaced by terror as he realized he hadn't stopped yet, and the ground grew horrifyingly close. His momentum had slowed down, but he was still fairly rapidly plummeting towards the asphalt. It all happened so quickly. He barely even had time to register the adrenaline flood back into his body before he felt his body violently slam into the inflexible ground below. Before he could even recognize the pain shooting through him, Peter heard a ringing in his ears and his surroundings suddenly ceased to exist, and he became numb to the world around him.

Peter's vision blurred and time around him seemed to slow down, if not stop, completely. He wasn't sure how much time actually passed, whether it was seconds or minutes, but it wasn't until he felt a hand grab his shoulder that he felt himself re-enter his body.

"Hey, kid," Someone's worried voice said, becoming clearer to Peter with every word. Suddenly, Peter felt the fabric of his mask slid up and off of his head. When Peter narrowed his eyes on the blurry blob in front of him, his vision cleared just enough to be able to tell that it was Mr. Stark hovering over him. "How you doing; are you doing alright?"

Peter was still too out of it to formulate a coherent response.

"Hey," Tony said, snapping his fingers in front of him in order to get Peter's fading attention. "Look at me; how many fingers am I holding up?"

Peter tried to get his eyes to focus on Mr. Stark's hand, but he couldn't quite tell. Two? Maybe four? With a slight shake of his head, Peter pushed himself into a sitting position and began rising to his feet, shockingly pain free.

"Woah, hey; easy, easy," Tony said, helping the spiderling to his feet. From the looks of the poor kid, he wasn't entirely sure he'd be able to hold his own weight. When Peter was up on both of his feet and looked relatively steady, Tony let go of his grip on Peter, but kept his hands within a few inches of him to make sure he wouldn't immediately fall over. "...How're we feeling?"

Peter's eyes met Tony's and for the first time since his fall, he looked relatively there. Peter opened his mouth to respond, but before any words made their way off of his lips, Tony watched in horror as Peter's eyes rolled into the back of his head and his body started going limp.

"Shit!" Tony cried, quickly putting his arms underneath Peter to stop his body from falling to the ground once more. Carefully lowering Peter into his lap, Tony held onto the boy with as snug of a grip as he could in a suit of armor. His heart pounding in his chest, Tony shakily brushed a stray strand of hair out of Peter's face as his thoughts raced with what to do. Medical; Peter needed medical attention.

Tony shifted his grip so that he had one arm under Peter's back, and one under his knees, put his visor back down, and then lifted Peter off of the ground, the poor boy's body limp in his grasp.

"FRIDAY?" he called for his A.I. "Alert medical. We have incoming."