Surrogate Son

A Misjudgement in Knives

Perhaps Tony was a little panicked, but it was understandable. Peter hadn't returned from patrol yet and he usually only took an hour and a half after school before coming to the lab until May called him home. However, it had now been nearly two hours and according to FRIDAY, he was still in Queens patrolling. FRIDAY said his vitals were fine, but he still decided to call and check in just in case FRIDAY was faulty (unlikely) or Peter had hacked the suit again.

"I'm fine, Mr. Stark," Peter promised. "I just lost track of time. I'll head over now. Give me twenty minutes."

"What? You stopping at McDonalds on the way?" Tony teased, knowing full well Peter could get to the Tower in five minutes from where he was at.

"No," Peter replied snarkily. "There's a mugging down the street and I'm going to stop it on my way."

"Alright, kiddo," Tony said, glancing up from his desk to see Peter watching the mugging below him. "Go get the bad guys then come get pizza."

"You have pizza?" Peter exclaimed. Tony chuckled and nodded.

"But pizza's only for good superheroes who come to the Tower quickly," he replied. Peter nodded and Tony heard the wind rush past him as he—hopefully didn't, but probably did—jumped from the building he'd been sitting on.

"You got it, Mr. Stark!" Peter chirped. Karen hung up and Peter dropped to the ground in front of the robber. "Whoa, didn't you know robbing is bad?"

"Get lost, kid," the man snarled. Peter frowned at the man then flinched when the woman who had been being mugged shrieked in his ear. He spun around to see another mugger grabbing for her purse.

"You have a partner?" Peter asked, webbing the purse out of the second guy's hands. "That's so lame! Who needs a partner to rob someone?" He webbed the second guy to a pole nearby and turned to take care of the first one, only to receive a knife stabbed into his abdomen.

"Get a better suit," the man growled before disappearing. Peter glanced down at the knife in his stomach and gingerly touched it. Weren't knife wounds supposed to hurt? He was pretty sure they were supposed to be painful.

"Oh my god!" the woman yelled. She pointed at Peter's abdomen as he ripped the knife from his stomach and suddenly felt the pain. Oh, so they do hurt, he thought to himself. He cast the knife to the ground and put a hand on the wound to try and slow the bleeding.

"Are you okay, ma'am?" he asked, forcing himself to stay upright even though he just wanted to collapse right there.

"You—You've been stabbed!" she exclaimed. Peter nodded, pressing on the stab wound and grimacing in pain. "I'm going to get help!"

"No!" Peter yelled, but she was already running off to the nearest pay phone.

He grit his teeth together and shot a web over the wound. That would hopefully hold it until he could get to Mr. Stark. However, he couldn't just call a taxi to Stark Tower, so he'd have to swing there.

"Great," he muttered. He pulled himself into the air, refusing to cry out in pain, and focused on getting to the Tower without passing out. It was hard, but eventually he was scaling the Tower and climbing over the penthouse balcony.

FRIDAY let him in without question and he ripped off his mask so he could breath easier. He knew Mr. Stark would likely be in the lab, so he started that direction. He hadn't even made it to the stairs when Mr. Stark appeared in front of him with a grin. As soon as he saw the webbing on Peter's stomach, though, he frowned.

"What happened?" he asked, hurrying over to Peter and trying to inspect the wound.

"Oh, the mugging was a group effort," Peter told him, staring across the room and out a window. "One dude tried to take this lady's purse, but I stopped him. At least, I thought I had, but then another guy appeared and took her purse, so I stopped him."

"Yeah, I'm talking about the injury here, Underoos," Mr. Stark said, gesturing at his abdomen. Peter glanced down at it, forgetting about it for the moments he'd been retelling the story. How come it didn't hurt anymore?

"Oh," Peter replied. "I got stabbed."

"You got—" Mr. Stark cut himself off and stopped yelling, taking a deep breath before struggling to calmly ask, "You got stabbed?"

"Yeah," Peter nodded. He picked at the webbing and said, "But it doesn't hurt anymore. Is that normal?"

"No, that's very un-normal," Mr. Stark told him. He put his arm around Peter and guided him to the elevator. "Let's go get you fixed up then you can tell me why you let yourself get stabbed."

"Okay," Peter replied, leaning against Mr. Stark as they stumbled to the elevator. At least now he'd be spending all night with Mr. Stark. He knew very well there was no way Mr. Stark would let him return to May bleeding and injured. As much as Mr. Stark denied it, Peter knew May could be pretty scary when she was angry.