i'll be there when you feel lost and alone

Gunshots echo through the chilly midnight air as Peter runs along the side of the wet brick wall in the alley, dodging the bullets. He pushes off the wall and performs a backflip with practiced ease, aiming at one of the armed muggers and shoots an impact web at him, sending him flying backwards, successfully webbing him against the wall. There are at least ten or so men Peter’s trying to fight off all at once and it’s getting a little tiring, if he’s being honest.

Cuddle Bug

Peter slowly rouses from his deep slumber when he feels himself being jostled around. He struggles to open his heavy eyes, but when he does, he finds that he’s being picked up from the couch.

“Wa’s h’pnin?” He murmurs sleepily.

“You’re okay, Pete. Go back to sleep.” Tony’s soothes.

Peter blinks sluggishly, his feverish brain being able to piece together that it’s Tony who’s carrying him. He must have fallen asleep sometime during the movie—he’s just so tired.

It’s only been three days since Peter has been at the cabin, spending the past two days puking his brains out due to a bad case of the flu. And it’s just his luck that he’d get sick on Thanksgiving break, already having enough on his plate with school and stressing out over studying for the SAT and ACT he’s scheduled to take in two weeks.

Not bothering to waste what little energy he has left to protest, Peter drops his head on Tony’s shoulder and closes his eyes once more. He’s barely awake by the time they reach the top of the stairs, only opening his eyes when he feels himself being lowered down to his bed in his room.

“There you go, kiddo,” Tony says gently, looking down at him with the softest expression Peter’s ever seen on his face. “Do you need anything?” He asks as he brings the blankets up to Peter’s chin.

“C’n you stay?” Peter asks

“Of course,” Tony says with a smile, walking around the other side of the bed before settling down next to Peter, snaking an arm underneath him, pulling Peter closer to him.

Peter turns on his side and curls up against Tony’s side, laying his head on his mentor’s chest, soaking up the warmth coming off of him. Peter hums in content, earning an amused chuckle from Tony in response, feeling fingers start to card through his curls.

“Go to sleep, spider-baby,” Tony tells him softly.

“M’ not a b’by…” Peter mumbles sleepily against his mentor’s chest, letting his heavy eyes slip closed.

He’s out like a light not even a few moments later.

The Big Boo-Boo Protocol

It’s a little after midnight and Peter is still awake, sitting up in bed watching Return of the Jedi on his SI tablet Tony gave him for his birthday a few months ago. But the movie isn’t doing its job in keeping Peter entertained. He usually loves watching anything Star Wars related—he’s just so bored. 

He’s been cooped up in the medbay on bed rest for almost a week now since his run-in with the Rhino, resulting in Peter getting pretty banged up (three broken and two fractured ribs, a broken arm, a fractured collar bone, bruised spleen, as well as a mild concussion to be exact). 

Pain Meds, Broken Bones, & Fun Facts

“T’ny, did you know that turtles can breathe through their butts?” Peter slurs with a lopsided grin. 

“That’s fascinating, Pete,” Tony says without looking up from his tablet, reading over the final prototype for the upcoming line of SI smart phones they’re planning on rolling out in mid-November. 

It’s been a long night in the medbay after Peter miscalculated a jump on patrol that resulted in the kid taking a bad tumble, somehow managing to break his fibula in two places. Thankfully, it doesn’t need surgery, but he’s still laid out in bed with his leg encased in a bright blue cast, propped up on a mountain of pillows to keep it elevated. He’s doped up on his spider-kid pain meds (the ones that make him fuzzy and a bit out of it), contentedly slurping on a berry blast flavored ICEE drink Tony got for him. 

Kidnapping Wasn’t On the Grocery List

They took them in broad daylight at a grocery store a few miles away from the compound. In hindsight, Bruce could have done something—paid more attention to their surroundings. He’s grown accustomed to not always needing to constantly look over his shoulder like he’d done before joining the team.

That’s why they’re in this mess now. He messed up…. badly.

Bruce and Peter were only there to pick up a few things for dinner that night, bringing their bags to one of Tony’s less conspicuous Audi sedans. Peter barely had any time to react before a group of goons were on top of them, one of them getting in a lucky shot and hitting Peter behind the head with a crowbar.

Bruce felt the big guy shift inside of him, the all-too-familiar green glow in his eyes, when one of the men suddenly grabs Peter, who’s half-conscious, by his hoodie and shoves a gun against the side of his head.

Revenge With A Side Of Avenging

The first thing Peter registers is pain, a horrible pounding at the back of his head, radiating to his eyes and all the way down his neck. It feels almost as if the throbbing is in sync with his heartbeat.

Peter lets out a groan as he goes to reach up to touch his head, but he finds that he’s unable to lift his arms. He opens his heavy eyes, blinking away the stubborn blurriness he’s met with, only to find that he’s wrapped in thick rope, bound to an extremely uncomfortable chair.

That doesn’t make any sense... how did he get wrapped up in rope?

He sluggishly blinks as he lifts his head, only managing to limply roll it on his shoulder. He’s in a large dark space, the only amount of light coming from the small windows surrounding the place. There are a few stacked boxes surrounding him, looking a little like a warehouse of sorts.

What’s he doing in a warehouse?