The Life I'm Running From

22\ Pain, Panic and... Peter?

I've never particularly cared about the Avengers. Sure, I appreciated their work—saving the world was no easy feat—but I didn't pay attention to where they had their headquarters or what their backstories were. And only ten minutes after waking up I was starting to wish I had.

My mind woke up before anything else. I could feel the sheets twisted around my torso, and the very distinct medical scent in the air. A fresh breeze raised the small hairs on my arm.

I wasn't sure where I was, but I knew it wasn't my room. My eyelids felt too heavy to open. A small sigh escaped my lips, and I fought my tiredness to reinvigorate myself. There was a soft noise as the door opened.

What had happened last? I had left to meet Ravenyx... saw the Avengers come out of nowhere... My eyes flew open at the sudden realization. I had been pushed off a bridge.

"Oh, you're awake." A lady in a white uniform smiled politely at me. Her blonde hair was tied back in a bun, and if I had to guess, I'd say she was a doctor.

I shifted uncomfortably. Upon waking up, I discovered one of my legs was encased in plaster. Or, more specifically, a purple cast. You know the kind that you get the kids at school to sign. Underneath the white sheet my ribs were heavily bandaged.

The lady moved to stand next to me. Her eyes swept over my body, which was lying stiffly on this stupid uncomfortable cot. "How do you feel?" Yep, definitely a doctor.

I grimaced. "What do you think?" My voice was raspy. Struggling to sit up, I used my elbows to prop myself upwards. My ribs screamed in protest. "What are my injuries?"

"You're lucky to be alive," she said a bit too matter-of-factly. "Your ribs are broken, along with your right leg. You had a nasty concussion when you first got here, but it's since faded." The lady stepped away from the bed and pressed a box on the wall. It beeped. "She's awake," the doctor reported.

I frowned. Who was she talking to? Where was I? This didn't look like a regular hospital. I was about to ask her these questions, but she shoved a glass of water at me and demanded I drink it.

The water was refreshing. I could feel my strength returning as the liquid flowed through me, lighting my senses back up. The pain in my ribs eased. A sigh fell from my lips, and I leaned back on my elbows.

Then the door burst open. In shock, I banged my head on the bed frame. Standing there, fully decked out in his red and blue suit, was Spider-Man.

He dropped to his knees beside my bed, placing one of his hands over mine. Instinctively I drew my hand back. He swallowed. "Are you okay?"

"I... yeah...?" I appreciated Spider-Man caring, but... what?

Spider-Man dropped his head, staring at the ground. "I was so worried." His voice lowered to a whisper. "It was my fault. I shouldn't—I should've caught you. You almost died."

"But I didn't."

He looked back up at me. The mask shifted on his face, meaning either he was tearing up or smiling. "Oh, I'm so glad you're okay."

"I wouldn't classify broken ribs, a concussion and a broken leg as 'okay'."

We both turned to see who had spoken. Tony Stark was in the doorway, a man with curly hair and glasses behind him. Tony strode forward, folding his arms as he studied me. Only eight minutes awake and I was already sick of people viewing me like I was at the freaking zoo.

Spider-Man stood up. "She's going to be fine, right?" He turned to the doctor. "Right?"

The blonde doctor shrugged wordlessly, while the other man grabbed a clipboard from a table. "McKinnley should be fine. Her injuries will take awhile to heal, but there's nothing lasting."