Oh, We’re Using Our Made-Up Names. I’m Spider-Man.

100. “You can only suffer through my whining for so long until you get up and make me a sandwich.”

Tony still didn’t know how he got here, stuck on the couch with his feet propped up on the long chaise, two pillows underneath his leg that was wrapped up in an obnoxious red and yellow cast, colors that were chosen by his five year old daughter.

He always use to get injured whenever he was in the suit but ever since he retired from being Iron Man and settled into this provincial life he’s made for himself… it’s been pretty dull and painfully uneventful.

That is until he tripped over his own two feet and fell down a flight of stairs in his own home.

Thankfully, Happy had been there yesterday afternoon when it happened and Pepper was out with Morgan shopping. The last thing he’d ever want is for his daughter to be traumatized from the sight of her old man being peeled off from the floor by Happy with a horrifyingly not normal shape to his right leg.