Starkly in Love- A Spiderman x Reader

Chapter 9: In the Morning

   The jet was in fact there in 20 minutes on the dot, and I was completely ready for it. I kept a bag packed with basic essentials and a few articles of clothing that work for anything from vacations and evacuations because you never know where you'll be going or doing when Tony Stark tells you to be ready in 20.

  The vehicle was empty except for the two pilots so I had my choice of seating. Choosing a double seat by a window, I plopped my bag and myself down in it and shut my eyes to catch a few Zs. That plan worked seconds later; my future self thanks me.

* * * * *

  I was rudely jostled awake by the jet landing. It wasn't a rough landing, I was just a light sleeper.

  "Miss Stark, we've arrived in Baltimore, Maryland," the female co-pilot that I'd known my whole life tapped mine gently on the shoulder.

  "I was wondering where this ship of wonder would take me this time," I smiled groggily at her.

  She smiled sweetly back and nodded. "Mr. Stark will be waiting outside."

  "Okay, thanks Emma," I called after her as she retreated back to her seat. I grabbed my backpack from beside me, swung it over a sore shoulder, made my way out the door, and tried not to trip down the stairs.  The car outside with nothing short of expensive. Even in crisis, my father wouldn't spare a penny.

  I pulled the door of the sleek red car open and slid in while I tossed my bag onto the floor. "Hey, dad."

  "Welcome to Baltimore honey," he returned the greeting with a one-arm hug.

  "Why am I here?" I replied bluntly.

  "Well-" he pursed his lips-"to make a long story short, I'm taking you to Mercy Medical Center per Peter's request."

  My suspicions were true. "I swear to you if you tell me that it's his 'dying wish' I will-" I took a moment to think of something dramatic-" I will personally paper cut everyone to death while playing Metal Machine Music by Lou Reed on loop."

  "Calm down, (Y/N), it's not his dying wish, just a wish," Tony held up his hands.

  "Good," I crossed my arms and tried not to imagine what I would be greeted with when I saw Peter.

  The remaining few minutes between whatever obscure airport I landed in and the hospital dragged on for hours. I spent those hours trying to keep a cool that almost fell apart when I was assured quickly through a back door of the hospital. It was later explained to me that everyone was keeping a low profile for two large reasons: Peter's identity secret and not tipping Void off as to there location. A small part of the hospital was blocked off from the public for said reasons and the closer I got to the room Peter was in, the more I felt my stomach twist.

  All too soon but not soon enough, we were feet away from his closed door and I quickly turned and grabbed my dad's arm. he immediately stopped and turned to me, worry clear in his softened eyes.

  "Be honest with me," I said softly, "is Peter going to be okay."

  He nodded slightly with a smile and tapped my hand lightly. "I've seen a lot in the past 10 years and this isn't the worst of it."

  I felt some of the weight ease of my shoulders. "Okay."

  "And one more thing," he said gently, "He's in a medically induced coma that they're lifting today, but it could take a while to wear off."

  I took a deep breath and nodded.

  Then the door was open and I could see Peter's seemingly helpless form asleep in the depressingly white room. I stood frozen in one spot, not sure what to do with myself.

  I knew my dad knew that I cared about him and this would be and is hard for me, but he didn't know the full extent of my caring.

  I found myself fighting off a panic attack even though if I were to break down this would be the time and place. But I didn't want to be that girl, so I did my best to breathe normally and make my legs move. They did as they were told and carried me hesitantly over to the bed. Once again, I stood stock still, barely aware of my dad's eyes following me closely, and tried not to panic.

  A nurse walked in, said something a low voice to my dad, and walked back out. Afterward, my dad moved over to my side to take my hand lightly in his.

  "They've stopped the meds that keep him un-conscience, he'll still be out a while, so why don't you get comfortable."

  I leaned into him a little as I nodded and let him pull an uncomfortable hospital chair over to the bed. I sat obediently in it.

* * * * *

  About 8 hours past before Peter even moved. The sun had just set and taken the beautiful wash of light from the window of the room. I'd eaten only the salad that my dad bought from a fancy restaurant he'd ordered from after I'd turned down actually leaving Peter's side. My bad sleeping habits were nipping at my feet despite the nap I'd caught on the luxury plane. I now found myself with on hand draped in my lap with the other on the armrest holding my head up. My eyes weren't even dropping a little because of all the adrenaline in me, but I could still feel sleep trying to take me.

  Over the time I had been sitting with him I'd carefully examined his superficial wounds. The cut on his lip went hand in hand with his purple eye. His arm and ankle were both wrapped in a hard white cast that I'd carefully signed, leaving a little heart by my name in his arm where he could easily see it when he woke up. Of course, new bruises twined together with previously existing ones and I remembered fussing over. Now they seemed so small and insignificant. The medically induced coma had scared me at first, but I'd heard that it wasn't that crazy, they'd kept him under so as to not mess him up with a large regiment of painkillers. (I'm not a doctor)

  I'd almost gotten up to take a little walk around when Peter's hand moved from the terrifying position by his side to over his stomach. I didn't wait for a second to page a nurse who, smiling, informed me that he was coming around nicely. I smiled briefly back before sitting back down, a little further off the edge of my seat.

* * * * *

  A few more hours passed, making it 10 at night before another nurse came back to check him. He informed me that he would be awake in at most 2 more hours. Visiting hours didn't really apply to me, but he still politely adviced me to get some sleep elsewhere, but I adamantly refused.

* * * * *

  12 a.m was when Peter finally decided to drift back to reality.

  I'd been thinking about other things when heard a little noise from his bed. My (E/C/) eyes shot down to his, now open, beautifully chocolate ones. My response to the sleepy question in his was to get down on my knees beside him, take his hand, and start crying.

  "What time is it?" he croaked out.

  "12 a.m," I kept mine quietly steady.

He smiled. "I always seem to find you in the morning."