Chapter Text
It was just another Tuesday when Peter’s spidey sense went off. A shadow was creeping over the bus, but it wasn’t a cloud. As Peter turned, he saw a giant alien ship was hovering over Central Park. He was immediately reminded of the Invasion of New York. That day had started just like this one, with everyone none the wiser to the looming threat that would soon lay siege to the city.
He still remembered it. He was with Aunt May and Uncle Ben. Things were just getting comfortable with their new way of life, just the three of them. They finally got into a happy little routine, Uncle Ben would be with him in the morning for breakfast and see him off to school, then Aunt May would be waiting for him when he got home. Peter was only 10, barely the height of the cars parked on the street (he was always tall for his age). He had been on his way home, just a block or two away, when the first portal opened.
People started screaming and running for their lives. Little Peter took cover behind one of said cars and could only watch as the battle unfolded. He got to see the avengers in action as they fought their way through the streets. Eventually, one of the Chitauri soldiers found his hiding place. He had thought for sure he was done for, that Aunt May and Uncle Ben would have to bury him with his parents, that he’d never live to reach high school, that--
The Chitauri soldier was decked by a red and gold fist. That had been the first time Peter had seen Tony Stark in person. A chance encounter you could say, seeing as Peter looked to Tony’s Iron Man suit to inspire some of his own suit design and gadgets. And by taking inspiration, he meant that he totally hacked into the Stark network to see all of Tony’s little projects and schematics.
Over his dead body was he gonna let another kid feel that same all-consuming fear he did. Guess he’d have to be somebody’s Iron Man.
Unfortunately, he was on the bus, and the bus was in the middle of crossing the Kennedy bridge, so there was no way for him to disappear without being seen by at least one other person.
“Psst! Ned,” he whispered, shaking his friend's shoulder. “I need you to make a distraction.”
Ned pulled off his headphones, only just noticing the shadow enveloping them. He turned around and at the top of his lungs shouted, “We’re all gonna die!”
That did it. Almost instantly the bus was in an uproar. Peter hid behind Ned as he opened the window and slipped out. As soon as he was out of the public eye, Peter activated the Iron Spider suit Stark had given him. There was a familiar tingle as the nano tech spread across his body, civilian clothes quickly disappearing in favor of the red and blue muted tones of the metal suit.
As clunky and thick as the Iron Man suits were, Peter had to appreciate the aerodynamic nature of the Iron Spider suit. He didn’t know the man had it in him. Not to mention the fact that most of Peter’s own personal details from the old fabric suit were also found in the Iron Spider suit. It was a quick favorite among the New Yonkers too.
By the time he managed to get there the ship was beginning to take off and whatever fight had gone down was being taken elsewhere. Peter was not about to sit back and be left out again. He was an avenger too damn it!
Everything was going so well. They had Thanos dead to rights; Mantis on his shoulders keeping him entranced in sleep, and Peter and Tony working at the Gauntlet. Despite Peter’s enhanced strength and the added effort of Tony’s suit, it was proving incredibly difficult. Even in sleep the titan was incredibly strong. Still, they almost had it off. Tony had moved to stop Star Lord from losing his cool, but Peter could feel the gauntlet start to give.
“Guys, I’ve almost got it!”
And then things went south. While Peter hadn’t really been listening to the conversation, he’d gathered that someone, presumably close to Star Lord, was killed by Thanos and he started swinging. Peter could pinpoint the moment Thanos broke free of Mantis’s control, because before he could slide the gauntlet off the alien’s wrist completely, he was thrown off.
Peter rolled in the rubble and scrambled to get back on his feet. The fight has resumed, and Thanos was winning. Without anyone to keep his hand from closing, Thanos was able to use the full power of the gauntlet, and use it he did.
He lifted his fist into the air and Peter realized the titan was bringing the planet’s moon down on everyone. When it made impact, the force sent everything not weighed down into the air, including their allies.
Peter moved quickly between the pieces of floating debris, grabbing as many people as he could with his webs and getting them out of harm's way while Thanos was fighting Tony and Dr. Strange. Once he was sure they’d gotten everyone, he saw that Thanos had left himself open.
Peter moved into a dive, hoping by some statistical miracle he could manage to throw himself at the gauntlet in a way that allowed him to pull it off of Thanos in one fell swoop with his momentum. He managed to get close, Thanos yet to notice him steadily approaching.
Just as he was about to grab the gauntlet, so close he could feel it on the tips of his fingers, Thanos swung his hand back to attack Tony, knocking Peter off course. As he collided with the gauntlet there was a flash of blue and red, so suddenly bright it left Peter blinded even with the suit's protection. He could feel the suit moving across his skin to shield him from the blow but to no avail.
He’s…not entirely sure what happened next. He could feel that he was flying through the air, feel the nanotech of the suit creeping across his skin to shield his front from whatever was forcing him back. Slowly, it took from the back, face, arms and legs. All of the armor slowly but surely withering away against the attack. The light only became more intense, forcing Peter to squeeze his eyes shut and still be blinded. There was a lurch, as if something had grabbed him around the middle and yanked.
His senses go haywire. Something is wrong, but there is absolutely nothing he can do. He almost felt like he was flying-
And then it all came crashing down.
Crime Alley was in an uproar. After weeks of rising tensions between the gangs, it had finally devolved into an all out war. Cars sped through the streets spouting gunfire at anything and everything in their paths. Buildings went up in smoke from bombs, grenades, and a few missile launchers. Street corners became war zones as the different gangs would hide behind corners and try to pick the other side off one by one.
Most of the people who lived in the alley had managed to get out when the first rounds started firing, but a few were doing their best to sneak through the streets to safety. A couple people had decided it would be better to barricade themselves inside their homes.
Usually, Crime Alley was off limits to the Bats, but since the goddamn apocalypse had decided today was the day to happen, Red Hood’s territorial opinion was shelved. Every Bat was mobilized, spread out among the streets either taking out the gang members to thin the numbers or helping people get to safety.
As Nightwing moved between some old apartment buildings a flash of light appeared in the corner of his eye. His brow furrowed. It didn’t sound like an explosion but it certainly looked like one. Sort of. Whatever it was, it was trouble.
He changed direction midair and made his way to where he thought he saw the explosion. But the strange thing? There was absolutely no evidence of one. A flash bang maybe? One that flashed red…
He looked around, eyes sharp and ears taut to hear anything, any shift in the rubble, any gunshot or shout, any cry for help.
There it was, a quiet groan. Nightwing dove between two crumbling skyscrapers to find a young teenage boy, probably no older than Tim, collapsed against one of the buildings.
He looked like he’d been through hell. Bruises up and down his arms along with shallow cuts, a couple that looked like small burns, and clothes in tatters. The kid was clearly out of it, continuously trying to force his eyes open but to no avail. When Nightwing pulled his head away from the indent in the brick wall, his hand came away covered in blood. But what was most disturbing was the bruise on his neck. There was a clear mark of someone, someone much much larger, having grabbed him by the throat.
“Jesus, kid,” Nightwing muttered. The hero was gentle as he gathered the kid in his arms. “Let’s get you to a hospital.”
It took several hours before the gunfire finally died down. The bats had managed to round up a vast majority of the gang members with the help of the GCPD, and the casualties were kept to a minimum.
As things started to calm down, Nightwing found his mind wandering back to the kid from the alley. The bruise on the kid’s throat had been bothering him. That hadn’t been received from the end of a gun. Hell, it didn’t even look like it had come from anyone they’d rounded up. Combine that with the kid's age, and how his clothes looked like they’d been shredded… Nightwing didn’t like the picture it was painting.
“What’s wrong?” Batman appeared at his side.
“Nothing.” Nightwing says quickly. But he also knows Bruce. “It’s just one of the people I rescued earlier. He had bruises on him. But not the ones you would expect to see on people after tonight. It looked like someone had picked him up by the throat. Add in the head wounds and I’d say someone choke slammed him.”
Batman was quiet, but thoughtful. “If you think there’s something more to it, trust your instincts.” Nightwing looked at Batman then nodded and turned to head back to the hospital.
Peter was having a hard time waking up. Everything hurt. Slowly, he began to regain consciousness, and as he became more alert he was aware that it really fucking hurt. Not even when a handful of his regular villains came together for a team up and gave him the beating of a lifetime did it hurt this much. It took him a bit to remember what had happened.
Then it hit him like a truck. He had to get up. He had to keep fighting. The fate of the world- no, the entire universe depended on it. First he tried to sit up. Then he failed miserably. It was like his very bones were bruised. A deep set ache that intensified everytime he tried to twitch. He was starting to wonder if Thanos had actually dropped the moon on him.
Peter was just about to give into the sleep weighing him down when he heard a strange rhythmic beeping sound. Not only that, something was bothering him. Something at the edge of his mind that told him something was wrong.
There was a faint chill on his hands. His suit must have been used up, if not completely destroyed from the blow. Which meant he was in his civilian clothes, completely exposed. He needed to get up if he didn’t want to die.
Part of him knew he had to get up and keep fighting, that there were bigger things at stake than his aching bones, but his body refused to move. It was as if all the energy he had left, what little there was, had been completely drained away.
Peter pried his eyes open, an effort that took far more strength than it should have. Not to mention the brightness. Oh god, was he dead? Is this heaven? Did they lose? Was it already over? Was it his fault-
Before he could spiral further, the beeping pulled him from his thoughts. The more he focused on that, the more his vision adjusted to the harsh lights.
He was in a hospital. Not on an alien planet surrounded by people trying to save the universe and a giant purple titan hellbent on killing half of all life. In a hospital.
Does that mean they won?
He didn’t have to wonder much longer. A nurse entered the room, too busy staring down at her clipboard to notice him. He noticed that she was wearing a regular hospital uniform instead of the gowns he’d seen at the Avengers compound. The nurse looked up from her clipboard and startled.
“You’re awake!” she cried, quickly running to the monitors to check his vitals. Peter was still putting most of his energy into keeping his eyes open, but he was slowly gaining more and more of his faculties. He opened his mouth and tried to say something, but found his throat was dry as a desert.
“Here honey,” the nurse said, putting a cup of water to his lips. “It’s a miracle you’ve woken up so soon. We thought for sure you’d be out for at least a week.”
Peter was starting to get a gut feeling. Not only was his spidey sense creeping in from the back of his mind to poke at something just out of reach, his gut was beginning to give him the warning that something was seriously wrong. He didn’t like hospitals to begin with, that doubled once he got his powers. Too many things to potentially be revealed, too many risks to take the chance.
“How long-” was all he could get out before devolving into a coughing fit. The nurse brought the cup back to his lips.
“A couple of days. You took quite the beating.”
‘A couple of days.’ Peter’s brow furrowed. That made no sense, he was just on Titan. He was just in space. Deep space. Where was everyone else? What happened? Did they win? So many questions swirled in his mind.
“Where are the others?” he managed. His voice was scratchy and accompanied by a strange tickle in his throat.
The nurse raised an eyebrow. “Others?”
Peter’s hero instincts kicked in. He wasn’t in the avengers compound. Which means he was in a civilian hospital…for some reason. Civilian hospitals don’t know his identity. Peter Parker had no affiliation with the avengers, so there’s no reason for him to be asking about them.
“How did I even get here?”
The nurse was eyeing him a bit more warily. “You were brought in by one of the Bats. Nightwing, I believe.”
“Who’s Nightwing?”
The nurse went quiet. Her eyes moved over his body, which he only now realized was covered in a hospital gown. His clothes were nowhere in sight, and neither was-
“Where’s my bracelet?”
“Oh,” the nurse snapped out of her thoughts, “it’s with your things. They’ll be returned to you soon. Unfortunately your clothes were unsalvageable but we have some scrubs you can use when you’re ready to leave. Now, I have to go, but first is there anyone I can call?”
Peter gave her Aunt May’s number and watched her leave. Once she was halfway down the hall, swung his legs over the side of the bed, waited for the pain and nausea to die down, and stood. He knew very well that if it wasn’t for his healing factor he’d very well be dead. That had been true for many of his injuries over the years.
The more he walked the more he was able to tolerate the pain. It didn’t go away but it was easier to shove to the back of his mind. Using the IV drip to aid him, he thoroughly searched the room for his bracelet.
Nothing. Think, Peter. Where would a hospital keep a patient's valuables?’
That…was a very good question. Where did they keep Uncle Ben’s things when she was…
Peter didn’t finish that thought.
If he had to go hunting, he’d have to be sneaky. After removing the IV from his arm--ow--he tested holding himself on the wall. It was about the same as walking. Being that it hurt but he could build a tolerance to the pain. Before he rushed out the door, he put an ear to the wood.
“--umber wasn’t working. It wasn’t even in service. My money’s on a fake. He could be a runaway.”
It was his nurse talking to someone in a hushed voice. Why wouldn’t Aunt May’s number be working? Weren’t they back in New York? Even if they weren’t in New York the number should still be working.
What the hell is going on?
“Alright,” a new voice, male, “I’ll talk to him and see if I can get some information.”
“Are you sure? If he’s a runaway he might feel a bit threatened.”
“But if this is something else I wanna know about it.”
Peter hurried away from the door and looked around wildly. The last thing he needed was to get dragged around by Social Services. Something was going on here and he was not about to stick around for it.
Up in the corner of the room was a vent. Perfect. With little more than a yank on the vent cover, it popped off its screws. By the time the door to his room was opening, he was halfway down the first stretch of air duct.
He made sure to keep quiet so as not to give away his position and made his way around the hospital. From the openings he passed he could see that his disappearance had been noticed. Nurses were suddenly rushing about and there were several security guards in ‘search mode’. Peter smiled to himself. He’s been sneaking through air vents for years, there’s no way they're going to find him.
While sneaking through the vents and trying to come up with a likely place hospital staff would keep patient’s valuables, he noticed a nurse packing up an unconscious patient's wallet, watch, and phone. Full attention captured, Peter followed him until he entered a room with a front desk and a safe. The nurse checked the items into the desk and signed a form, and the woman behind the counter put them into the safe.
“6-8-4-2,” Peter repeated the sequence. It was only a matter of waiting for the attendant to turn around and making sure the coast was clear before Peter could sneak out of the vent. He quickly entered the code and sorted through the bags until he found his things.
His spidey sense activated and he jumped back into the vents on pure instinct. A half second later a man dressed in a black bodysuit with a blue bird emblem across his chest and a domino mask turned the corner.
“Hey, has a brunette kid come through here asking about his stuff?” the guy asked, clearly distressed.
“No, the only people I’ve seen have been staff.”
“And are you in the habit of leaving the safe open?”
Peter smirked to himself and shuffled around until he found the staff locker rooms. With his disappearance causing a bit of a commotion, it was thankfully empty. What he did next didn’t exactly have him feeling proud, but he couldn’t exactly walk around in a hospital gown now could he. He forced open one of the lockers and quickly changed into the clothes stashed in there; a pair of blue jeans, a gray T-shirt with a band name he didn’t recognize, and a pair of tennis shoes.
“I’m sorry, May,” Peter muttered. “And person I’m technically stealing from.”
With his baggie of property and a brand new outfit, Peter maneuvered through the vents until he breached the outside, all while the hospital continued to tear itself apart looking for him.