Peter Parker Oneshots

Big Spook - Part 3

When (Y/N) woke up – she couldn't remember when or how on earth she managed to fall asleep in this situation – she was lying on a couch in what she could only assume to be the Avengers' compound, a blanket draped over her, the blinds hiding the sun. It was about ten in the morning, and she quickly rubbed the sleep away from her eyes and threw the blanket away.

She had never even dreamed of stepping into this place, let alone spend the night. But she didn't have time to gush over being in the Stark Tower, because she knew Peter was somewhere on a lower floor, half dead.

"F.R.I.D.A.Y," (Y/N) called, hoping she worked the same as E.D.I.T.H and thanking heaven that Peter was a huge nerd who had gushed over his glasses for ages when she asked him about them.

"Miss (Y/N)," the A.I. Greeted her, waiting for her to speak.

"I need to see Peter," she said, a stone dropping to the bottom of her stomach as she said his name. Let him be alive, let him be alive.

"Right this way, Miss."

The panels of a seemingly normal looking wall moved to reveal an elevator and dinged when the doors opened. She stepped in and the doors closed on their own, F.R.I.D.A.Y taking care of letting her off on the right floor.

She ran out as soon as the doors opened again, and she recognized the white walls of the medical wing. Thanks to muscle memory only, (Y/N) found her way back to the surgery room Peter had been brought in, but the sign next to the door said it was currently empty.

Going back, the looked at the sign on every door, trying to find someone, anyone, who could point her in the right direction.

"(Y/N)," an all too familiar voice called her name, cutting short to her increasing panic. When she turned around, she saw a puffy-eyed May Parker standing by a door down the corridor. "He's here."

She jogged over to her and the two women crashed into each other for a tight hug. (Y/N) heard May cry softly, but she found she could no longer shed a tear. She had cried so much yesterday, and the shock of it all finally hit her, numbing her to everything around her. She needed to see Peter.

"He'll be okay, he'll be fine," May whispered against her head, placing a kiss on top of it. (Y/N) knew she said it for herself, she tried to speak it into existence.

"Happy called you?" (Y/N) croaked out, clearing her throat.

"As soon as you passed out," she said with a nod, gently stroking her hair. May always showed her maternal love, and (Y/N) often wondered why she had never had kids of her own. "We're waiting for Dr Cho to tell us what's going on."

When (Y/N) looked over May's shoulder, she saw Happy standing beside a bed, where she knew Peter laid, though she could only see the shape of his legs under the white sheets. May quickly filled her in on what she missed and told her he came out of surgery around six this morning. Dr Cho went to sleep, having earned her rest and left Peter in the capable hands of the nurses.

The three of them waited inside Peter's room, silently watching his chest rise and fall and finding comfort in that, and that alone. Because they didn't know anything else. Most of Peter's body was hidden under the sheets, but what little they could see was not reassuring at all. Half his face was bandaged up, because of the head wound (Y/N) had nearly lost her mind over, and he had obviously gotten several stitches for other open wounds on his upper body. That was without mentioning the purple bruises littering his arms, or the split lip, the small gash on his left eyebrow, or the swollen black eye.