Spider-Man Oneshots || Peter Parker

Stabbed

Swinging to the Tower with a stab wound was probably not the best idea in hindsight.

The thought occurs to Peter as he stumbles through the window, attempting and failing not to get blood on the floor. The wound seems to be growing progressively worse as time passes by, and the more blood he looses the more light-headed and disoriented he begins to feel.

For a brief moment, he decides to take a break, laying on the ground and working to clear the black spots that take over his vision. The tiled floor feels cool against his skin and he lets out a content sigh of relief, savoring the sensation of it.

He thinks about asking May if they can replace the carpet in their apartment, though he quickly scraps the idea moments later. They weren't allowed to make renovations like that, but maybe he could convince the landlord. He remembers MJ telling him about carpet beetle infestations, and surely that could be a motivator.

But he also liked having the carpet in his bedroom; the familiarity of fabric brushing against your feet, giving any home a warm and cozy atmosphere that tiles would simply never accomplish even if you throw a rug on top of it.

He tries to recall if any rooms in the Tower have carpet in them, but he assumes not. Tony Stark doesn't seem like a carpet guy after all.

At the thought of Tony, Peter is suddenly reminded why he came here to begin with. He sits up and hisses out in pain when he feels a stinging throb in his abdomen.

"Hey FRIDAY, have you seen Mister Stark anywhere?" Peter's words are slurred together, but he thinks that the AI will understand him nevertheless.

Sure enough, he gets a response seconds later, "Boss is currently on a date with Ms. Potts, would you like me to inform him of your arrival?"

Peter opens his mouth to say yes, but he stops himself from giving the confirmation. He would feel guilty if he were to interrupt their night out, and it's not like he hasn't dealt with a stab wound before.

"No, it's okay- I'll be in and out."

A combination of determination and resolve fill Peter's thoughts as he begins to stand up, a task much more challenging than it should be. His body tilts to the side but he is able to catch himself by holding onto the window sill, and he notices a bloody hand-print when he retracts it.

FRIDAY somehow notices the blood too.

"A protocol has been installed to inform Boss whenever you have injured yourself, are you sure you would not like me to contact him now?"

Peter pauses in his steps, pressing down on his wound and letting out another hiss of pain. "I thought Ned and I got rid of that?"

"You have for Karen."

Despite the pain, or maybe because of the pain, Peter begins to laugh, amused with the idea that FRIDAY was familiar with the name Peter had given to his own AI. Then, a thought occurs.

"Hey FRI, are you and Karen friends?"

"Karen and I will sometimes intercept in codings if that is what you mean?"

Peter laughs even more, but quickly stops himself when he feels his stab wound flair up with it. He looks down to examine the damage only to find crimson red completely staining his abdomen, and he's suddenly thankful that his suit is the same color.

Eventually Peter actually makes it to the elevator after what felt like hours but had to have been minutes if he were still conscious. He sits back down, pleased with his travels thus far.

"Hey Fri, will you take me to the med bay?"

While the AI doesn't respond the elevator moves up on its own accord, so Peter guesses that she had listened to him after all. Unless there was a ghost in the building.

When Peter was younger he never believed in ghosts and anything else supernatural, but ever since he has gained his own powers he thinks that the plausibility of being haunted wasn't too far fetched anymore.

Sometimes in the middle of the night when Peter is alone with his thoughts, he actually hopes that ghosts are real. Maybe Ben was still watching over him and he didn't even know it, witnessing him recklessly jump off of buildings and get stabbed by drug dealers on a Wednesday evenings.

The idea brings Peter comfort, and it somehow lessens the pain as well.

Then, the elevator door slides open and he mummers his gratitude to FRIDAY. He had officially lost all of his energy as he drags himself out of the confided space.

For some reason the wound was no longer hurting, but he supposed that was a good sign. Fatigue causes his vision to tunnel yet he moves forward anyway, at least wanting to make it to the med bay so he can take a nap on the bed. His legs are no longer functioning properly, so he has to crawl there instead.

He falls face-first onto the mattress when he finds it, and the pillow is fluffy and comfortable against his cheek. He thinks how he could spend the rest of his life laying there when FRIDAY interrupts his moment of bliss.

"I would suggest covering up the wound before Boss gets here, you have lost a significant amount of blood and your vitals are reading critical condition."

Peter opens his eyes and groans out, "you're a snitch."

Despite his aggravation with FRIDAY, he still sits up and makes his way to the nearest table. He grabs onto the bed railing and completely dents it with the force of his grip. Another thing he can worry about later.

He picks up something that vaguely resembles the knife he was stabbed with earlier, but it was much too small to be the actual culprit. Still, he examines it with careful fingers, unknowingly swaying on his feet.

While Peter no longer felt pain, he didn't necessarily feel good either. His skin was clammy and his brain felt like it was filled with cotton balls.

He picks up the jar of actual cotton balls at the side and accidentally breaks the lid as he attempts to twist it open. He pays no mind to the broken glass as he grabs a piece and dabs it against his wound, and the white material is immediately soaked red.

He picks up another cotton ball, ready to apply more pressure when he hears a voice that sounds identical to Tony's.

"Peter, what the hell."

Peter turns and sees the man in question, and his face was pale and his eyes were wide with fear.

He offers a one-handed wave before passing out.

~

Thank you for reading! Next part is going to be an extension of this oneshot, though both can be read together or alone :)