Chapter Text
Peter was a Grade A mess when he landed on the roof outside Ned’s bedroom window. May had given him permission to stay with his best friend after the Homecoming dance since she had a shift at the hospital. He could plainly hear the explosive conversation inside.
Ned had gotten caught. Ned was helping him track the Vulture and had gotten caught. Ned had told the teacher he was looking at porn- What the hell, Ned?!
Ignoring all of his injuries from the cuts stinging because of sweat in them to his broken ribs to his sprained wrist to his fractured, lacerated collarbone, Peter quickly entered his best friend’s bedroom and commandeered Ned’s laptop.
It took him thirty minutes because it was hard to focus. All traces of everything incriminating were erased and replaced with logs of Ned playing three video games at once featuring endowed characters. Ned and Peter routinely infiltrated the school’s system to modify Peter’s attendance. This was par for the course, really.
Looking at computer-generated, covered boobs was a lot better than actual porn, and the teachers knew Ned would blurt things out in the worst way. It was so much better than them following up on what Ned had been doing.
Peter breathed a sigh of relief, powered off the laptop, and pulled his suit off to trade it for actual pajamas, though he left the shirt off and dug out a well-stocked medical kit Ned kept under his bed for Peter. It used to be smaller when clumsiness was the worst thing they had to worry about. Then, Ned found out about Spider-Man and saw what happened to Delmar’s, and his observation grew sharper than Hawkeye’s.
Footsteps coming up the stairs made him pause in mid-organizing of what he needed- one set, lightly stomping, heartbeat’s slightly fast, probably coming down from the scolding. Ned. He still hid in the corner out of sight of the door, sighing when Ned came in.
“Peter?” Ned asked softly as he closed the door. He had spotted the open window, his laptop not being where he left it, and the medical kit on the desk.
All the adrenaline had faded, and Peter was really starting to feel those aches. “…Ned…” he whispered with as little movement as he could, though it didn’t matter as the nerve endings still lit up. Wrapping an arm around his chest as his breath hitched, Peter tried not to cough.
“Shit- Peter-” Ned choked out as soon as his eyes landed on his injured brother. A blink later, and he was in medic mode, taking the antiseptic and gauze. “Shh, shh,” he hushed and helped Peter to his bed. His quiet assurances, “It’s okay- I got this- I got you,” came along with each and every sign of pain the other teen gave. Peter never made a sound, though.
Ned had a terrible appreciation of how high his best friend’s pain tolerance had become and of how considerate Peter was of being in someone else’s house.
Peter loved his best friend for helping to take care of him without badgering him. He was in a lot of pain after swinging on that collarbone and busted ribs, and talking was out of the question. Well, he loved Ned for many more reasons, but right now, that was at the forefront.
As Ned prepped the needle to stitch the puncture over Peter’s collarbone, Peter gingerly felt along his ribs and made sure they were aligned. Nothing was worse than having to fix that. His super-healing was already starting to kick in, and on the first growl of his stomach, Ned had a protein bar opened and waving in his face.
Peter grinned at him and took it with his uninjured arm.
“Hey,” Ned got his attention since it was better than letting his best friend focus on the needle, “you didn’t get your phone out of Mr. Toomes’s car, did you?” He kept the questions to yes or no answers. Talking would only put more strain on Peter’s ribs, and his goal was to promote healing, not suffering.
When Peter shook his head, Ned frowned a a little.
“Okay… Okay-okay-okay, I can find it again and wipe it. They’ll investigate the area. I’ll do that after this. You, uh…You’re really banged up- Do you want another bar?” Peter shook his head again. “Okay, cool… Lemme know if you do,” he paused to enjoy the relief at his brother’s amused smile, “Uh… What about Mr. Stark’s stuff?”
“Hap’s there,” the injured teen managed to answer.
“Right. Okay, yeah. Sorry. Didn’t mean to make you-” Ned cut himself off when Peter’s good hand patted his shoulder. “It’s not okay,” he declared in a fierce whisper. “None of this is okay! Mr. Stark didn’t talk to you. Happy didn’t listen to me. Why are adults so stupid? …Don’t answer that. It does need an answer, but I hope we never understand. Could you imagine treating your kids like this? Mr. Stark is Iron Man, so he should get being on the ground as a hero- If he doesn’t want you doing this by yourself, then why did he leave you by yourself? Sheesh, it’s like he doesn’t get how stubborn you are-”
“…Ned,” Peter huffed and gently pulled the bent needle out of his best friend’s grip. The stitches were finished during Ned’s rambling, but the other teen had worked himself into a rather impressive, frustrated rant. Peter diffused it by shuffling enough to lay his head on Ned’s shoulder. The pain was finally starting to ease, his ribs the focus of his healing, so he could murmur, “I ‘ave you, m’ Guy in th’ Chair,” with a light, sleepy slur. “Yer th’ best.”
Ned felt tears in his eyes but held off on breaking down until after he took a picture then got a shirt on Peter and prodded him to get under the covers of Ned’s bed. After cleaning up and putting the medical kit away, he took care of the phone. He wanted nothing more than to curl up in the bed with his hand on Peter’s chest to make sure his heart was beating and lungs still moving. There was something he had to do first, however.
Happy was his best shot. He didn’t have Mr. Stark’s number, or else he’d be trying to contact the supposed-mentor directly. Calling Happy wouldn’t work. He was furious with these people who said they’d support Spider-Man and then didn’t, so he sent the picture he took of Peter’s bruised, cut, broken body.
It was with grim satisfaction that he received a call five seconds later. He put the phone up to his ear. Happy wasn’t getting a video call. Peter needed rest.
“I debated not answering,” he said in lieu of a greeting, his voice quiet to not wake his brother. It didn’t take away from the anger. “It’s what you do to Peter. Ignore him. Leave him out to dry.”
“I deserve that,” Happy responded, not mincing words but sounding chagrined. “How is he?”
“Sleeping right now,” Ned answered. He wanted them to learn, not lash out at Peter later. “He’s hurt. Everything will heal except his heart. Thanks to you and Mr. Stark for that. Good job.”
“We deserve that, too.”
Ned didn’t relax despite the agreement to his assessment. “Is he going to get the apology he deserves? Or are you going to keep being dumb adults?”
“I tried to call him when the plane went down.”
He decided to be a bit forthcoming instead of keeping them in the dark like they had done to Peter. “He dropped his phone in the Vulture’s car to track him. I don’t know what happened after that except he wasn’t able to go back for it. I already wiped it.” He was thankful that they made backups. Peter was proud of that video he’d made of the trip in Germany, as he should’ve been. “I was more concerned with patching him up and keeping him from talking. He probably has less unbroken ribs right now.”
“I’ll come get him and bring him to the Med Bay at the Compound.”
“I don’t think so,” Ned immediately declined. “I know more about him and his changes than anyone else.” It was a silly thing to feel competitive over, but right now, he knew the best way to help Peter. An unfamiliar location wasn’t it. Being around people who weren’t sorry wasn’t it. “He’ll be fine by tomorrow afternoon as long as he doesn’t have to fight another supervillain alone in the morning.”
“…Okay.” Happy sounded frustrated and a bit upset. Good. He was getting just a taste of how they’d made Peter feel– unheard, unimportant. “Can I reach him at this number?”
Ned scoffed and retorted, “He will call you. And you better answer.” He then hung up and plugged in his phone to make sure it was fully charged. Of course, Peter would call them tomorrow. His best friend was painfully forgiving to everyone except himself, something that too many people took advantage of.
Instead of dwelling on that, Ned slipped under his blankets. He winced when Peter unconsciously shifted to make space for him despite the pain it put the vigilante in. It was then Ned realized just what being a vigilante meant. He knew of others around the boroughs of New York City, and it hadn’t really occurred to him how clearly marked their territories were. Peter had mentioned stepping outside of Queens very rarely.
Spider-Man’s team was Ned. He wanted more help for his best friend but not at the cost of his best friend. Peter was too good for this world. Flash still having teeth was evidence of that. Mr. Stark’s comment about wanting Peter to be better than him was silly, as far as Ned was concerned. Peter already was better. He had communicated everything to Happy, just as he’d been told to do. They were the ones who didn’t return the favor.
Once again, Ned wanted to curse stupid adults.
He blew out an agitated breath and rested his hand on Peter’s chest, letting the beat of that powerful, wonderful heart lull him to sleep.
The next morning came with no unpleasant surprises. Ned expected more than only two new protein bar wrappers on his nightstand. A clingy brother nuzzled up against his back was also normal. After the spider bite, Peter became a clingy, sticky brother. No one else knew that stickiness extended beyond Peter’s hands and feet.
“G’mornin’,” Peter mumbled, slowly working to unstick his face from the back of Ned’s shoulder. He was so glad that his best friend wasn’t freaked out by it. “Thanks for takin’ care’a me las’ night,” he appreciated and rolled over to stretch with only a light hiss as his stitches pulled.
“Anytime, Peter,” Ned assured him, reaching over to move the neckline of Peter’s shirt. With a satisfied smile at the nearly healed wound, he said, “I’ll take those out after breakfast. My parents are probably gonna be a bit, uh…”
Peter huffed a laugh and teased, “I heard someone was looking at porn.”
Ned playfully, gently shoved him. “Dude, come on-”
“Don’t worry,” Peter cut him off with a little smile, “I already adjusted the logs to show you were playing three video games with, uh…very pretty women.”
“But…when?” Ned’s eyes started widening even as his mouth started frowning. “Did you do that before I-”
“-found me in your room? Yup. It was a little hard with a sprained wrist, but eh,” Peter shrugged his good shoulder, “I got it taken care of.” He flexed his hand. “Pretty sure I fractured couple of metacarpals, now, too.”
“Geez, man!” Ned breathed, “How’d you- What even is your pain tolerance?”
Peter shrugged, muttered, “Let’s just say ‘stupid high’ and leave it at that for your sanity,” and snagged another protein bar. “Will your parents be okay with me here? You’re supposed to be in trouble, right?”
“Weeell…yeah,” Ned grinned ruefully, “but they already agreed to you staying, sooo…”
Peter glanced at the still-open window. “Aren’t they going to wonder how I got in?”
“Oh, right. You just showed up later since I got caught, and I let you in.”
The vigilante slumped down on the bed with a little frown and mumbled, “I hate how much we have to lie.”
Ned patted his arm. “I’d rather us lie and keep us all safe than have someone spill.”
“Yeah, true. So…breakfast? Smells like bacon from here.” Peter would probably rather eat cardboard than have another protein bar, but he could breathe without pain. His only visible bruises were under his shirt and a light bit of discoloration on his wrist. No language had words to express how thankful he was for Ned. The next computer he repaired would fund resupplying that medical kit and protein bar stash along with a RAM upgrade his brother had been eyeballing.
Breakfast wasn’t tense at all until Principal Morita called. Peter did not want to be a spider on the wall for that conversation, and Mr. and Mrs. Leeds sent both him and Ned back up to Ned’s bedroom. Instead of dwelling on that, Ned handed his own phone to Peter. He explained what he had done the night before and found himself with an armful of clingy brother.
Peter’s voice was a raspy mess when he whispered, “You’re the best.” Once he was composed, he dialed Happy’s number on speaker so that Ned could hear. It was picked up on the second ring.
“…Peter?”
The vigilante fidgeted by folding his toes overtop each other again and again. “Hi, Happy.”
“Oh, thank God you’re okay! We’ve been worried sick!”
He glanced up at Ned, whose face was like stone because he was Not Impressed. “…Were you? Sorry. I didn’t mean to make you worry. Sorry about the plane, too. I tried to collect all Mr. Stark’s stuff, and-and I left a note, but-” Ned put his hand over Peter’s mouth.
“Peter. Breathe, kid. Tony’s not mad. I’m not, either. I- Thank you… You saved my job.”
Peter pulled away from Ned slightly in surprise and blurted, “I did? How? I crashed a stupidly expensive plane on Coney Island!”
“My job was to see that stuff safely transported to the Compound. If it hadn’t been for you, all of it would’ve been stolen. …I’m sorry, Peter. We- I should’ve listened. I’ll do better, okay?”
Ned spoke up then, “I’ll hold you to it, Happy. Peter won’t. He’s too forgiving.”
“Hey!” Peter barked in mock-offense, “I’m sitting right here!” He knew he was a hopeless cause when it came to giving people too many chances. Ned was the demon to his angel sometimes.
“You got a good friend, Peter. Speaking of best friends, hold on and I’ll forward you-”
“How about,” Ned cut in, “you ask Peter if he wants to be forwarded?”
“…Yeah, okay. I deserved that. Peter, do you want me to forward you to Tony?”
Peter was getting a front-row seat to more of Ned’s rabid-demon tendencies than he had in a while, so Happy’s words threw him enough to almost make him cry. “Mr. Stark…wants to talk to me? After what I did?”
Happy’s sigh crackled over the speaker. “You weren’t the only one who screwed up there, okay? I think it’s a merry-go-round of it right now, and the only one in the clear is Ned.”
Ned looked proud and annoyed, which made Peter purse his lips to not smile.
“Okay, yeah…” the vigilante half-whispered, “If-If Mr. Stark isn’t, ya know…busy…” A single ring came over to show it the call had been forwarded before it was answered.
“This had better be you, Underoos! Ned is grounded for that scare!”
Ned wasn’t going to take that lying down, especially when Peter flinched. “You’re the one who should be grounded, Mr. Stark,” he retorted as he snatched up the phone and turned on the video call. He wanted the full force of his anger to be visible to the man on the other end. Peter moved to be able to see the screen. “I really hope Happy sent you a recording of our call last night.”
Mr. Stark’s face was a bit paler than usual, his brow furrowed in worry. A lot of the tension eased when he saw Peter’s unblemished face. “Lordy, that healing factor of yours sure is something, kid.” The relief in his voice made Peter’s eyes well up, and at a quiet sniffle, Ned handed him a tissue.
“I’m sorry about your plane and equipment, sir.”
Mr. Stark beat Ned to it, “I don’t care about the plane, Peter! You needed a hospital!”
“Enhanced,” Ned and Peter said at the same time before Peter continued, “If I go to a hospital, I’ll wind up in a dingy government lab before I’m even diagnosed.”
Mr. Stark rubbed a hand down his face with a frustrated sigh. “You’re right. I know you are. I’m just- You scared me, Pete. You weren’t there, I couldn’t locate you, and all I had was your goofy note…” The video shook a bit as he sat his phone down to rub at his wrist. “I watched all the recorded video from the plane- God, you’re good at on-the-spot decisions… You saved a chunk of the city. You almost died, but…you did it.”
Ned passed his now-crying brother another tissue and wrapped and arm around him. “We tried to call Happy,” he told the man, “He hung up on me.”
“Yeah, that won’t be happening anymore,” Mr. Stark vowed, “New protocol for FRIDAY: No Ignoring the Spiderling. I trust you not to abuse it.”
“You…You trust me? After the Ferry? Sir, a lot of people could’ve gotten hurt-”
“Yeah, and it’s on me that I didn’t tell you about calling the FBI.”
Ned couldn’t help the astonished raise of his eyebrows. He hadn’t had to go scorched earth on Mr. Stark at all, and it threw him for a loop. Maybe he wasn’t a stupid adult.
“Anakin, you’re gonna catch flies.” Peter snickered, and the smile it brought to Mr. Stark’s face was something else. “Okay, we need to have a real conversation. I’m gonna need my intern.”
Ned was rather proud of that being his nickname. Anakin may have gone to the Dark Side, but he was strong and did what he thought needed to be done. Peter was who mattered most to him. He’d do everything he could to protect him.
“I have to take his stitches out first. They’ll heal inside his skin otherwise.”
“Good idea. That sounds like misery. I’ll be there in twenty-five minutes. FRI, end call.”
Peter didn’t mind Ned shuffling him onto the bed. “They’re starting to itch,” he mentioned, knowing Ned would be upset if he didn’t speak up regarding his discomfort.
Ned had been acquainted with Peter’s self-sacrificial nature almost as long as he’d known Peter. “Which means,” he stated as he turned back around with the needed tools, “you’re barely resisting digging them out with your fingernails.”
The vigilante blushed and mumbled, “Maybe a bit.”
Once they were out, Ned applied a little dollop of antibiotic ointment to protect and soothe the skin. He smiled at Peter’s sigh of relief. “Okay, give that a minute to soak in then you can shower.”
Peter grinned at him and replied, “That might be the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”
“No,” Ned corrected with a laugh, “that was ‘bogo Delmar sandwiches.’”
Peter’s eyebrows raised before he took on a mock-pensive expression, even putting his hand to his chin. “You got a point.”
Ned laughed and gently shoved him toward the door. He got dressed while Peter showered and wrote a note telling his parents that he was being a good best friend and would be back before dark. Placing it on his desk, he packed his laptop and Peter’s suit into his backpack. By the time his brother returned, he was standing by the open window.
“Dude,” Peter mumbled, “your parents are gonna be so pissed.”
“Forgiveness, not permission, right?”
The vigilante cringed as he thought of May and just how badly it was going to go when she learned about Spider-Man. He knew he couldn’t hide it forever, especially since she already knew he was sneaking out. “Uh, sure… If we die, then we die.”
Ned nodded with a silly, solemn frown, and then they were out the window with Peter helping him down from the roof. It was perfect timing as that familiar Audi rolled up. The enhanced teen was listening more for the easily distinguishable heartbeat inside, though he picked up both Happy and Mr. Stark. Happy rolled down the window and gave Ned a look before huffing in acceptance.
Peter squeezed in between Mr. Stark and Ned in the back, quite surprised to find himself accosted by his not-usually-touchy, maybe-not-former mentor. “Uh…hi…” he greeted both men as his shirt collar was tugged aside.
“Not even a mark… Good job on those stitches, Anakin,” Mr. Stark praised Ned before wrapping an arm around Peter and tugging him close. “You- You’re- God, kid, what am I gonna do with you?” He finally pressed the bottom half of his face against Peter’s head and sent Ned a grateful look over still-damp curls.
Peter wanted to hug him back so badly but froze stiff. Ned nudging his side made him blurt, “Are we, uh…there…yet, Mr. Stark?”
Mr. Stark’s breath hitched before he choked out, “Yeah, kid- Yeah. We’re there.” He didn’t complain when Peter used a little too much of his strength, instead telling him, “You nearly dying puts a bunch of shit into perspective. …Rhodey and Pepper might have also chewed my ass out. I’m so sorry, Underoos.”
Ned lightly jabbed his elbow in Peter’s back when the vigilante opened his mouth to apologize again. “Now, we do better,” the coding genius said at the puzzled look Peter gave him. “Let’s start with communication. Peter, what happened after I lost you on the call last night?”
“Uh…” Peter winced and advised, “Happy, you might want to park.”
“Is it that bad?” Ned simply wanted to be prepared. He had dug a bullet out of his best friend and stitched up stab wounds. Peter was worth it all. Regret wasn’t in Ned’s vocabulary when it came to Peter’s wellbeing.
“Weeeeell… The plane wasn’t the first time I almost died.”
Mr. Stark sounded like he was choking for a moment before he seriously questioned, “Are you cursed, Pete?”
“Probably.”
“Okay,” Happy said as they came to a stop in a parallel space next to a café. He maneuvered to be able to see all three of his passengers and prompted, “Lay it on us, kid.”
Peter had two ways of delivering bad information: entirely too nonchalant or a rambling bombardment. Either method left most listeners horrified. Ned was as familiar with both as he was his own rambling or obnoxious questioning. Peter decided to start from the moment that Adrian Toomes answered the door of his date’s house. From there, Happy and Mr. Stark grew paler and more and more grave. Ned only became more determined to somehow make those criminals’ lives a living hell- three hots and a cot plus free medical was too kind.
Rolling with the punches was something Peter simply did. Ned knew he didn’t have a choice, especially after becoming Spider-Man. Being threatened by his date’s dad? As long as May and Ned were safe, business as usual. Having a building dropped on him? Simply be thankful to God that there were no bystanders present. Crashing a plane and fighting an alien-tech-powered criminal nearly to the death? Just a regular Monday- or Friday, in this case.
“Honestly,” Peter wrapped up his harrowing tale, “I’m just glad I stayed with Ned and didn’t have to go to school today. May’s had some extra work at the hospital with these alien guns floating around, so we haven’t made it to the grocery store this week.”
Ned snickered into the tense atmosphere. “And the last time she sent you to the grocery store alone, you came back with pre-packaged meals instead of the list of burnable produce she wanted.” Peter made finger guns at him with a humored smile. He was thankful that the stash of protein bars he insisted on had helped his best friend, who also contributed to said stash when capable. Ned simply wanted to make it known that they didn’t have food because of time constraints.
May loved Peter like her own son despite not being blood related. Not being able to spend time with her nephew was torture. It was another reason Peter put so much time in getting rid of the alien weapons. May was overworked at the hospital and in danger.
“Okay,” Mr. Stark spoke up, having already processed the story and picked out what he could do to fix some glaring issues. “Obviously, you are Spider-Man with or without a spiffy suit. So, you’re getting it back.” Peter gasped and twisted to face him, eyes welling with tears. “Also, I’ll have a StarkPhone ready for you today with Karen. …And make you a pocketful of trackers so you don’t do something so tactically smart but also harebrained again.”
With his brow furrowed, Peter asked, “Could we try streamlining the webshooter design?” Mr. Stark gave the budding engineer a curious look and waved one of his hands to prompt more thoughts. Ned was simply happy to see his best friend being properly listened to. Peter was hesitant and reassuring as he explained, “Like…they’re great, Mr. Stark, don’t get me wrong! But they’re…huge.” The oldest genius in the car frowned slightly before nodding. “Wearing them outside my suit is a dead giveaway. A-And-And they have trackers, soooo…if we can make them to where I can always wear them, then…”
“Good point, ‘Roos,” Mr. Stark told him, ruffling the untamed curls. “I designed all of it without your input, so we can definitely make it better. I’m still dealing with Accords stuff, but we’ll make it happen, okay, Pete?”
Peter breathed a sigh of relief with a wobbly smile. “That sounds great, Mr. Stark. Thank you!”
“And you,” Mr. Stark said as he leaned around to pin Ned with his stare, “I’ll figure out something for you, too. You hacked a multimillion-dollar suit in a hotel room. I’m not letting talent like that get away.”
“Oh- Well- I- Um…” Ned stammered, unaccustomed to having anyone apart from Peter take notice.
Said brother nudged his arm. “C’mon, Ned, say yes! Spider-bros for life, right?”
Ned caught his hand and initiated their handshake. “Spider-bros for life.”
Mr. Stark put a hand to his forehead, trailed down to pinch the bridge of his nose, then let out a little giggle. “I’m surrounded by dorks. Happy, please drive.”
Happy snorted in amusement, despite never actually smiling, as he turned around and started the car. “Seems to me like you’re just finding common ground, Tony.”
A huff of laughter escaped Mr. Stark. “You’re in the car, too.”
Happy put up the partition.
Peter’s snickers were muffled by Mr. Stark’s hand in his hair pushing his face into the man’s neck, and Ned’s were hushed by the other hand gripping his shoulder to pull his face against Peter’s back.
Pursing his lips couldn’t stop a smile from growing on Mr. Stark’s face.
It took three weeks for Mr. Stark, Peter, and Ned to create and implement a device to track any Chitauri signals within a fifty-mile radius. Iron Man and Spider-Man quickly tackled every ping. The influx of patients at the hospitals finally slowed, and May used the extra money to get tickets to a new exhibit at the Museum of Mathematics. She wanted to spend time with her nephew.
With everything going on between school, Spider-Man, and the now-official internship, Peter forgot and went out on an early morning patrol. Upon returning home, he was nursing a bruised side from choosing between a gunshot or a baseball bat. He didn’t hear May’s heartbeat or footsteps.
She heard his window shut and tiptoed over to his door. The sound of her boy’s breath hitching and stuttering had her throwing it open. She was Not Ready. “Peter! What the fuck?!”
“M-May! I-I-I can explain- Ouch…” he stammered then hissed the last word, wrapping his hand around his side and folding a little toward it. He knew at least one rib was nearly broken.
May Parker was both a guardian and a nurse, and she could tell Peter needed the latter one right then. She took a step forward and pinched the suit between her fingers. “Get this off so that I can see,” she commanded, glaring when he made to argue, “Do you want good bedside or bad bedside?”
“Is this the-the nurse version of…of g-good-cop-bad-cop?”
She had no idea how she didn’t realize her nephew was Spider-Man yet with how similar they were. He made jokes as distractions all the time. “You wanna find out? Hmm?” she dared and tugged a little at the suit. “Off. Now.”
Not having anything on beneath the suit besides his boxers wouldn’t work for May as it had for Mr. Stark. She had seen him in various states of undress throughout his life. Having a teenager wandering about in his boxers was practically a rite of passage for parenthood.
Peter pressed the spider emblem and let the ballooned suit slide off.
“Oh God, sweetie…” she breathed and covered her mouth, the next question slightly muffled, “What hit you?” A moment later, she was back in emergency-nurse mode.
“Choices did,” he quipped then hissed when her fingers pressed around the bones. “Yup- That’s fractured-” He covered his own mouth tightly as nausea punched him in the stomach, barely swallowing back the urge to vomit. It wasn’t his first rodeo, and he really needed his mid-patrol snack to stay down.
“You sound so sure without an x-ray.” May didn’t keep touching that area, though, thinking back to all the injuries she’d seen on videos of Spider-Man. Her nephew was so brave and so strong. It didn’t alleviate how angry she was with him for not telling her about this. “What can I do to help?”
Peter couldn’t help the surprised look he gave her.
“Scolding will come later,” she promised, making him cringe. “You’re injured. What can I do?”
“Uh… If we’re still going to the museum… Can we get lunch first?”
“You almost threw up just now.”
“Yup. Food helps. Super-healing. Crazy metabolism.”
After a quick, careful shower where May insisted on helping him wash his hair, they went to their favorite Thai restaurant. Peter’s skull never stopped tingling from how intense her stare was. They usually didn’t opt for a booth, but she wanted him beside her so that she could keep a better eye on him. He realized the other strategy of it allowing them to talk more quietly.
“How long?” she demanded after they ordered drinks and an appetizer.
“Uh…” He needed something a little more than that. “How long have I been strong and sticky? Or how long for Spider-Man?”
“Both.”
Peter was never known to half-ass anything, and maybe he got that from May. “Well… I got bit by a spider at that ESU trip… Remember when I got really-really sick last year?”
“That’s what caused it? God, Peter, we thought you were dying…” May and Ben’d had to put him in an ice bath at one point to bring his fever down before he cooked, but he had survived. Now, though, she understood why he hadn’t wanted a hospital.
He gave a half-shrug and then continued, “I’ve been Spider-Man since…since about a week after Ben…” He looked up at her with watery, reddening eyes. “I-I-I couldn’t save him, May… We were at that bodega because I liked it…”
“No,” May choked out, trying to sound firm despite the burn of tears. She cupped his cheeks and told him, “No, baby, no. Ben was Ben. He would’ve helped whether you were there or not.” Slowly, she stroked his cheeks with her thumbs and wiped away his tears. “A call for backup went out… A call for us to get prepped for injured… You aren’t the reason he died.”
“B-But May… I-I’m fast- I’m strong- I heal… I could’ve…”
“Peter. No.” She tugged him against her, tucking his head under her chin and rocking slowly. “Ben wouldn’t have been able to live with himself.”
Peter let out a soft sob then coughed lightly and held his side again, more upset by not being able to simply cry right then.
“If you got shot, sweetie…and on his watch?” May sucked in a shuddering breath. “I can’t imagine what he would’ve done… Super-healing or not, you’re our boy, Peter.”
Their appetizer arriving distracted them. Peter had heard their drinks being dropped off but hadn’t cared in the face of May’s hug. May decided to give a little extra on the tip for the server respecting the painful-but-heartfelt moment they were having.
She slipped back into nurse mode as Peter got a serving on the small plates provided. “How fast will that heal?”
“It’s my only injury, so probably by the time we leave the museum,” he answered honestly. “Mr. Stark and Dr. Cho made some really awesome snack bars for me and Ned to keep on hand. They don’t taste like cardboard after the second one.”
May blinked and thought back over the time that her boy was sick. She couldn’t remember whether Ned’s mom had mentioned anything, so she asked, “Did Ned get bitten, too?”
“Huh- What? No,” Peter answered with a confused furrow of his brow. “He’s my Guy in the Chair. Ya know, my computer dude and medic. Spider-bros for life.”
“Oh, Ned is your medic?”
Peter couldn’t figure out why he felt like he’d stepped on a landmine. “Um…yes?” he squeaked, stuffing another bite in his mouth.
He was saved by the server coming by to ask how the appetizer was and to take their entrée orders.
May was highly displeased. “He has no medical training at all, Peter. Why didn’t you tell me? I’m a nurse- An emergency nurse!”
Peter frowned in offense on behalf of his brother. “Hey, you can get a certification in anything through YouTube. Besides, he’s gotten good at stitches and splints.”
The look on May’s face encompassed all the ‘Lord, give me strength’ prayers Peter had ever heard. “I’ll be the judge of that,” she decided then circled back around. “So, why didn’t you tell me?”
“I, uh…didn’t…want you to-to worry…”
“And yet I did, anyway,” she told him. “I knew you were sneaking out, remember? I saw bruises sometimes… Peter, I was scared for you.”
He winced and looked away, hating that he’d disappointed May so badly.
“Nuh-uh, you look at me,” she demanded, her fingers gently turning his chin back to face her. “I love you, Peter. I couldn’t be proud when I didn’t know. Now, I can be proud. You’re so much like Ben…and your mom and dad…”
Knowing she wasn’t disappointed alleviated almost every bit of tension in him. “You, um…aren’t going to make me stop?”
“Would I be able to?”
Peter jerked back at the whipcrack-fast response, his mouth working a bit uselessly at first. “I think… I would…for you… It’d kill a part of me to…to have to walk away from-from people who need help, but…but I would.”
She smiled at his honesty, glad to know she still held at least a little sway in his teenage brain. “And I can’t do that to you,” she told him and patted his cheek. “You have a gift, Peter. You have the power to help. It’s a part of you, just like it was a part of Ben. I can’t take that away from you and still have you be my boy that I love so much.”
He nearly cried from how much he loved her right then. Instead, he hugged her as tightly as he dared, being careful of his strength, and finally relaxed.
“…I can ask you for Mr. Stark’s number, though. That suit of yours has to be his design since Spider-Man didn’t have it until after that intern retreat in Germany.”
May didn’t yell at Mr. Stark at all, and Peter thought that might have been the most terrifying thing he’d ever seen. When his aunt was yelling, she was reacting. If she was calm and angry, then she’d had time to puzzle out her emotions and plan.
Mr. Stark was appropriately terrified, but it wasn’t out of fear that he agreed to her conditions. She was his intern’s guardian and loved Peter. That also saw him conversing with Ned’s mom and dad, who were over the moon at their child’s brilliance and dropped all punishment over sneaking away from the dance to play mature-rated video games. Shortly, they had schedules for their internships.
May also wrangled a promise from Mr. Stark to help them learn to defend themselves better. He swore to find them the best martial artist he could on one condition. They had to call him by his name.
Peter and Ned left little cutouts of Tony the Tiger all over his private lab, the R&D intern labs, and the penthouse of the Tower he decided not to sell.
Tony smiled and rolled his eyes but kept every single one.