What Tangled Webs We Weave

Chapter Five

He was questioned as soon as he stepped out of the elevator.

"Peter, why were you so quiet and quick to leave this morning?"

"Why didn't you answer any of our texts?"

"It's almost twelve thirty, you left at six, what took you so long?"

Peter's headache grew more and more. He clenched his eyes shut, feeling dizzy.  "Look, I'm sorry, okay? I was distracted, I promise I won't-"

He took a sharp breath in and grabbed the back of a chair, stabling himself. What was wrong with him?

There was the sound of chairs moving and he immediately felt Steve's hands on his shoulders.

"Peter, what's wrong? I think you need to sit down." Steve hastily moved Peter into the chair he was leaning against.

Peter slumped in the chair, slowly opening his eyes and seeing the worried faces of his dads.

The one upside of feeling sick and ready to die, Peter thought as he brought his hand up to his head.  It takes your parents mind off of scolding you.

"I'm fine," he said quickly, shaking his head.  "Just... just tired."  He rubbed his forehead.

"Yeah, you definitely don't seem okay, Pete," Tony said, standing up as well.  "What the heck happened while you were out?"

Peter was going to say something - read as lie - when he heard a gasp from Steve.

"Peter?  Why is there a bleeding wound on your shoulder?"

Peter winced and looked down.  "What wound?  I don't know what you're talking about."

Tony moved behind Peter and looked at the wound with Steve.  Great.  This is going to go great.

"Steve, go get the proper medical supplies, now."  Tony inspected the wound, Peter staying silent.

"Peter, I need you to tell me what happened," Tony said firmly, leaning over Peter's shoulder and looking him in his half-shut eyes.

Peter already knew he couldn't tell Tony about it.  He would get in so much trouble.  He tried to come up with something believable.

"I was heading over to the mall to meet MJ," he said slowly.  "When I saw another criminal.  He was... robbing some rich dudes house and when I tried to stop him, there was this big fight and he... and he stabbed me in the shoulder.  Twice."

With his blurred vision, he wasn't sure if the suspicious look on Tony's face was really there or not.  It was probably there.  Oh well.  Man, for a guy who was able to keep his identity secret for almost a year from his parents, he was a terrible liar.

It was pretty much silent until Steve came back shortly later, medical supplies in hand. They quickly got to bandaging him up, Peter just staying quiet and wincing every so often from the pain that came from them fixing it up.

"Boss?" FRIDAY's voice rang.

"What is it?" Tony asked in response, focusing on fixing the wound.

"Peter seems to be falling unconscious, sir."

Man, Friday was noticing more about him than his parents and she wasn't even an actual human. At least, she isn't unless it becomes another Vision situation. Here's hoping it doesn't.

Before Peter could hear anything from his parents, FRIDAY's observation came true and he passed out.

——————

Peter woke up a few hours later, in what looked to be the Avengers Tower Medical Bay.  After how many times people were hospitalized, they just added their own smaller one.

He looked around the room and jumped slightly as he saw his Dad standing by his bed, holding up a holopad.

"Oh good, you're awake," Tony said, smiling softly.  "How you feeling?"

"Alright..." Peter said slowly, sitting up.  "How long was I out?"

"Only about three hours," Tony said with a shrug.  He leaned down and grabbed something off of the grab.  "You dropped this on your way in."

Peter was surprised to see his Hot Topic bag.  He quickly grabbed the bag from his Dad's hands.

"Thanks," he muttered, checking to make sure his things were still inside the bag. 

"Didn't realize they were making Spider-Man Funko Pops," Tony remarked.

"Neither did I," Peter said, pulling the Spider-Man Funko Pop out of the bag.  "They just released them recently."

"That's a big step up, Pete."  Tony smiled and rested his hand on Peter's leg.  "I'm proud of you."

Peter smiled back.  "Thanks, Dad."  He looked around, not seeing Steve anywhere.  "Er, where's Pops?"

Tony looked away from the bed, clearing his own throat.  "You like what we've done with it?"  He asked, avoiding the question.  "Plenty of beds.  Everyone could get hurt and we'd have beds to spare.  I-"

"He's on a mission, isn't he?"  Peter assumed, a deadpan look on his face.

Tony looked back at Peter and nodded.  "Well, suiting up now."

Peter nodded and stood up from his bed.  "Yeah, okay."  He slowly started walking before he was soon stopped by Tony grabbing his good shoulder.

"Oh no no no.  Where do you think you're going?"  Tony asked, turning Peter around to face him.

"On the mission, duh."  He shrugged.  "Come on, Dad!  I'll be fine!  I'll be sure to stay back and just web 'em up!"

Tony wore a frown.  "I don't know..."

Peter then did something that no one could say no to.  That's right, the trademark Peter Rogers-Stark puppy dog face.  Even after 16 years, it had barely ever failed him.

"Please?"  He asked again, drawing out the word.

Peter tried not to grin as he saw his Dad begin to crack.  His plan was working.

"Alright," Tony finally said relieved.  "But you stay in the back, and if you get hurt the slightest bit, you're out."

Peter nodded and put his hand to his forehead in salute.  "Yes sir!"

Tony shook his head.  "I can't believe I'm doing this," he muttered.  He looked at Peter, wrapping an arm around him.  "You know, when we get home, we're going to have a long chat."

Peter laughed a little.  "You know you want to have me come anyways," Peter insisted. 

"I cannot deny nor confirm if that is true."  Tony pressed the elevator button and they both waited in much more comfortable silence.

Peter needed this mission.  He needed something to take his mind off of things.  He did not want to get hurt any more than he had already been that day, let alone the past two days.  He would keep to the back and just web them up.

As for that chat?  He'd just have to see how that would go.  Right now, all he cared about was getting his mind off of... everything.