Whumptober 2024

It's Not My Blood - Day 6

Peter Parker was a creature of habit, nocturnal, arcing across the glowing steel spires of New York City. Tonight, it was a canvas of shimmering lights-off: faraway car horns and the chatter of night owls. After a long evening of patrolling, he found himself in a state of unusual weariness. He had faced villains both ordinary and otherworldly, but tonight felt different; he was at a loss to explain why. He struggled through the window of his small room in Queens, his heart racing from the adrenaline of the night. The fight with the Vulture had left him exhausted, but he pushed it off. "Just another day on the job," he thought. As he fell onto his bed, the weight of exhaustion came over him in a tide. He felt an odd twinge in his side, but it was just an aftereffect of the fight, he passed it off. Not having the energy to peel his suit off, he let it lie rumpled against the floor as he fell into the tuck of his sleep. Outside, the moon was low; the soft light filtered over the room and fell on the crumpled suit, the detritus of the struggles that filled Peter's life more days than not. He slept deep, unaware that all was not quite right, that this pain in his side wasn't just an irritation but a presence growing in power.

The next morning, Tony Stark woke into his luxurious penthouse not far from Peter's home, stretched, and prepared his usual breakfast: a mix of caffeine and something that resembled nutrition. He had developed a routine to check in with Peter: sometimes playful, other times helpful or wise, depending on what the boy needed. Today, however, something felt off. Sipping his coffee, he reached for his cell phone and texted Peter a quick hello: "Hey, Spidey! Time to kick it in high. Where are you?" Minute after minute passed, and no response came. A frown tugged at Tony's brow. Peter usually answered quickly, more so when he sensed the Sass was coming his way. Concern pricked at the back of his mind—a sensation Stark rarely allowed himself. He decided to do a quick drop-in. Tony crisscrossed Queens, his head a tangle of potential problems. What if Peter was in some sort of trouble? What if he was hurt? It was just the night before that he had sent out a warning after catching on to the rise of a new bunch of street-level bad guys. No one could quite cause trouble like Peter Parker could-or get himself caught up in it. He reached Peter's apartment, where Tony rapped his knuckles gently against the door. Nothing. He tried again, this time with a little more urgency, instinct welling up.

"Peter! You around?" Some moments of silence followed before he turned the doorknob and creaked the door open into the young hero's room, dim in morning light. Tony stepped inside, calling out once more. 

"Parker?"His heart sank as his gaze fell upon the bed. Peter lay sprawled sideways, his face buried into the soft blanket. The sight was all too familiar, yet eerie; he could easily have been the one in that very position years ago when life-threatening circumstances drove him to frequently wake up to loneliness or worse: disappointment. Hey, wake up!" Tony said loudly, a mix of alarm and exasperation together. He moved over to Peter and shook his shoulder. Peter didn't budge. The unease in his stomach twisted tighter. Tony lifted Peter's blanket and saw it-a stain blossomed dark against the blue of Peter's pajama shirt. A ripple surged through him as he tore the fabric away, revealing a deep bruise running alongside Peter's ribs, a stark mark against his otherwise freckled skin. He stumbled backward, almost falling because he was so shocked and horrified. This wasn't just any fight, was it?" He muttered to himself. "What have you gotten yourself into this time, kid?"Tony's mind raced as he remembered the nights when they would joke about fights and cut repairs. He reached for his communicator, calling for backup. "JARVIS, get me the medical team. I need you on alert-Peter's down. The mechanical voice spoke out, confirming his command. Tony immediately began searching for Peter's pulse and praying for any sign of life. The air hung heavy and sour. That slight tinge he had felt a moment before must have been more serious than he imagined. In a few instants, the medical unit arrived, mobilizing with agility. Tony watched helplessly as they reassessed the situation. They worked fast, professionals, but every minute slipping through his fingers dulled his hope into fear. They managed to finally get Peter stable after what felt like forever. One of the medics, her face grave, approached Tony. "He lost a lot of blood. He's in critical condition. All we can do now is wait and see if he pulls through." "He's gonna wake up," Tony insisted more for his own benefit. "He always does."But as the day wore on, with Peter lying silent and pale, the city outside seemed to have come to a standstill too. Busy Queens streets were now but a whisper, a distant memory to Tony as he paced back and forth across the little apartment. Hours passed, and then the sun lowered in the sky. Tony's resolve started to break down. Well into dusk, without warning, Peter's fingers quivered."Tony?" The faintest whisper, hardly audible, cut through the silence like a lighthouse beam slicing through fog. "Yeah, kid, I'm here. You gave us quite a scare," said Tony, rushing to Peter's side, huge relief inside him. I was... I was out fighting," Peter muttered low, his eyes fluttering as they adjusted to the light. "Yeah, well, you really should let your body in on that whole 'it can't just jump into fights without your approval' thing." Tony tried to lighten the mood, but his voice betrayed how much he was suppressing his worry. Peter chuckled low before wincing. "I think I bit off more than I could chew." More like you didn't realize you were chewing iron, Spider Boy." He pushed a glass of water toward Peter. "Just take it easy for now. You're going to pull through." Peter sipped slowly as he met the relieved look in Tony's eyes. They both knew the truth of the matter: Heroes fell, and this young one today learned a lesson in a stark way. With just a little help, with a nudge from his friend, perhaps he would get up again. As the two settled into a silence that was thick with the promise of tomorrow, Tony knew they would face whatever came next-as they always had-together.