Kid, tell me what happened: The Sequel

there with open arms

Summary: peter gets deathly hurt on a mission-but he doesn’t die cause thatd be awfully sad-this was a request of yall where “peter gets deathly hurt on a mission”. I never do that severe injury angst but now yall asked for it so yall gonna get some ooo

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“What’s your status?”

Peter ducked as the patriotic voice of Captain America filled his ears as Chitauri soldiers fired their weapons toward him. Well, his alter-ego that happened to be a vigilante/Avenger, cause Peter Stark was a secret hidden from everyone except for a small group of people that were given the alias of Earth’s Mightest Heroes. 

Peter ducked behind a boulder and jutted his wrists out, sending webs stronger than silk toward the Chitauri. The webs pushed the aliens against a wall, and rendered them stuck, literally.  Cause webs are sticky, get it?

Just as Peter was about to reply to the Captain, the back of his head tingled. His spidey senses. Peter immediately ducked and then spun-kicked a Chitauri who was trying to sneak up on him and take him out. Peter quipped as he punched the alien right in the face and knocked him out cold, “Bet you didn’t see that one coming.”

A thick Sokovian accent replied hotly, “Awe, Stark, that’s my line!”

Peter laughed, “I don’t see your name on it.” His laughter was short-lived as he dropped into a plank to avoid getting decapitated by a blast. He then deadpanned seriously, “I did not see that coming.”

“Once again, what’s your status guys?”

Peter replied while disarming another herd of aliens, “These guys keep on multiplying. How can we make them divide?” Despite being sixteen years old, the boy had an excellent pun game. 

“Haha Spiderman. Anyone got any ideas?”

A Russian accent that sounded almost bored offered, “And no one say keep shooting because clearly that’s not working out very well.”

Clint’s voice echoed with the sound of bullets being fired, “What’s that Cap? You want us to keep shooting them? You got it.”

Peter snickered. Unfortunately, Natasha did not find Clint’s jest as funny. Peter heard the sound of a bullet fire from Natasha’s comm, and Clint wince over the comm, “Nat, do I look like a Chitauri to you?”

Natasha replied in a flat tone, “In terms of looks there’s no difference.”

Peter shouted as he flipped a Chitauri solider over his back, “I could really use some help here, guys!”

Peter smiled at his father’s reply, “On my way underoos!”

Peter faced his opponent, a rather lanky sort of fellow with a machine gun that was nearly tripled in comparison to the soldier’s size. A smirk grew on the boy’s lips despite his mask concealing it as a very familiar and iconic red and gold metallic suit rose from behind the alien and fired a repulsor blast to the man or woman or non-binary, they/them, and all pronouns cause it’s 2020 and we don’t assume anyone’s gender back and knocked them out cold.  

Peter smiled through his mask as he let out a sigh of relief, “Thanks, Dad.”

Peter could tell that Tony was giving him one of his iconic “dad looks” as he replied as if Peter said something completely obvious, “No need to thank me kiddo, we’re a team, remember? Well, those losers are, we’re exclusively better.” He added a laugh to indicate that no harm was meant with his words. 

Peter grinned at his father’s words as he resumed kicking alien butt. After all, New York City was prone to shit like this. Literally, every week there was some small scale invasion.