The Side They Don't See

Returning Not-Home

The hours after the battle were a blur. Peter was semi-conscious of the people moving around him. There were a ton of people who were injured, and they needed to figure out a way to get to New York. Along the way, Peter learned that Tony had bought back Stark tower, and he had a hospital there, which was where Strange portaled him to. Peter just managed to think When did he have time to buy the tower? Before his mind spiraled into other things.

Somehow, they managed to all get to the tower. The medical wing was packed full of heroes with varying degrees of injury, and the nurses were all over the place. Eventually, Peter figured that someone had managed to sort everything out, because by the next morning, all the minor injuries had been treated, and the major injuries got their own rooms.

Peter didn't sleep much that night, but neither did anybody else. The ones who were relatively healthy all sat in the massive waiting room and tried their best to fall asleep in the uncomfortable plastic chairs. Peter vaguely remembered a nurse asking if he was okay, but he just waved her off. There was a throbbing ache in his side, but he chose to ignore it.

He also vaguely remembered his adrenaline crash. He dropped into a chair, his muscles giving way all at once. He was half-awake, mostly incoherent and completely out of it.

When the next morning came, he took a few seconds to fully take in his surroundings. The Winter Soldier and the Falcon were sitting close to him, both holding coffees and sitting grimly in silence. He saw Natasha Romanoff whispering to Pepper Potts, who looked distraught. He also noticed what looked like a raccoon talking to... a tree? Okay, that was weird.

For a few seconds, Peter sat in his chair, unnoticed and just observing everyone. He wondered why everybody's faces were so grim. And then all of a sudden, the memories came crashing back. The explosions. The gauntlet. Tony lifting his hand and snapping. "I am Iron Man".

Tony. Oh god, Tony. Is he okay? Is he even still ali- Peter cut himself off, not able to finish the thought. Peter sat completely still in his chair, eyes wide, trying not to think about the possibilities of what might have happened. He stayed like that until Pepper finally noticed he was awake and walked over.

"Hey Peter, I didn't notice you were awake. How are you doing?" Her face was kind, but Peter could see the bags under her eyes and the concern on her face. God, she must be worried sick...

Peter decided not to burden her, let her focus completely on Tony. "Oh, uh, I'm fine. Just tired, I guess." He stretched in his seat a little, his stiff joints aching in protest. "Uh, hows he..."

The words got stuck in his throat, but Pepper understood what he meant. "Oh, he's in intensive care right now. The doctors still won't give me clear answers on anything, but, he's not doing great." Despite her calm demeanor, Peter could hear the pain in her voice. "Also, Steve is in surgery right now, but the doctors told us that he'll probably be fine."

Peter nodded as she continued to talk, but at that point, he wasn't really listening. He just kept picturing Tony, lying on the ground with his right side completely charred... the sound of the battle still raging, the shouts and growls and explosions filling his ears.

"Peter?" He snapped back to reality when he heard Pepper say his name.

"Uh, sorry, what did you say?" She gave him a weird look, almost as if tempted to ask if he was okay. Peter breathed a sigh of relief when she didn't.

"I said do you want me to call your aunt May? I can have her come and pick you up, I'm sure she's dying to see you after five years..." She trailed off, and Peter felt himself freeze.