a sky full of stars {Irondad - Febuwhump}

it's been a long cold lonely winter

Day 11 & 12 – Graceless & Stabbed 

{kinda graphic violence and a bit of bad brain stuff}

Despite what everybody thinks, Peter doesn't get hurt on patrol that often. Sure, he gets a few cuts and bruises most nights, but real injuries, serious injuries rarely occur.

There were The Incidents. Like the mess with Toomes including the ferry, the warehouse, and the plane crash. And then there was the whole mess with Thanos where Peter, you know, died. And after that, there was Mysterio which left Peter a little worse for wear.

But generally?

Regular patrol, he's fighting against people. Just regular human beings with stupid ski masks and easy to take guns that they wave around in carelessly.

And Peter's a superhuman. He's got his spidey-sense and his incredible speed, reflexes, agility, strength. He's got Karen, his suit with all it's crazy capabilities, and he's got Iron Man on speed dial.

He doesn't get hurt.

Especially after he got back from Europe, where he honed his skills even more and started to really trust his senses, nobody can really get the upper hand with him.

So he doesn't get it.

Why in the world is he bleeding out in a grim alleyway, criminal long gone?

"Karen?" he chokes out, hands uselessly hovering above the wound in his chest.

He dizzily sinks to the ground, knees giving out at the last second, and his head collides with the brick wall behind him gracelessly.

"It appears you've been injured," Karen says and Peter nearly laughs at her uselessness. He loves Karen, he does, but he doesn't really need to hear that he's been injured when he's the one coughing up blood in an alleyway after being stabbed.

"Yeah, K, I get that. What the fuck do I-" He cuts himself off as he coughs, pain throbbing through his chest and head at the movement.

His vision whites out momentarily and when he can see again, he's looking up to the grey sky.

"-best idea," Karen's saying. "Your vitals are fluctuating dangerously, Peter."

"Call-" he stops, world spinning dizzily around him. The lights are too bright, the sounds of the neighborhood too loud, the pain in his chest exploding through his head.

"Peter?"

"Call Mister Stark," Peter chokes out, pulling his mask up with clumsy hands to spit blood onto the dark ground below him. "Call- Call Tony, please, K, please-"

He doesn't get hurt.

This sort of thing just doesn't happen to him.

He's always so careful with what happens to him out on patrol. For May's sake, she's seen too much, been through too much, and after all she's done for Peter, he doesn't want to cause her any extra stress. And for Tony because his hair's greying after everything Peter's put him through and Tony always murmurs in that sad, pained tone I can't lose you again, and Peter can't do that to him.

Peter's always careful.

He doesn't get hurt.

Until now, he supposes, hands coated in his own blood, dripping onto the pavement around him.

"Pete? Isn't it almost curfew?" Tony asks. He sounds so fucking happy, so at ease, so peaceful. Peter can hear Frozen Three, because yeah Disney made another Frozen during the snap along with dozens of other movies, and he can even hear Morgan's laughter echoing through the phone.