Chapter Text
He hadn’t meant to break his phone, it just so happened that it was in his pocket when he got smashed into a wall by a bad guy. How was Peter supposed to know that would happen? Mind you he probably shouldn’t have had his phone in his pocket in the first place… and now it was barely even a phone. May was going to kill him.
This was how Peter Parker ended up at a dodgy looking tech store spending all of his allowance - of which he’d earnt through weekly under-the-counter shifts at Mr Delmar’s shop - to get a small, measly looking phone that was chunkier and uglier than his old one. But at least it would work (he hoped).
To test it out, Peter fully charged it before heading out on patrol, he webbed his backpack to a wall before slipping on his suit.
“Hi Peter, how are you?” His AI, Karen asked him as the suit booted up.
“Great, thanks Karen,” Peter mumbled automatically, swinging himself up onto the nearest rooftop.
Queens was bustling as always, the sun beginning to set with shades of pink and orange seeping across the sky. He could hear the sounds of cars, people yelling, sirens blearing and music playing. It was chaotic but it was home. And Peter never felt more content than he did when he was on patrol.
Despite what one would think, being Spider-Man was about as peaceful as Peter’s life got. Between school and his homelife, the only time he was really free was when he was hidden behind this mask. Behind the suit no one knew he was just a scrawny sixteen-year-old orphan who could barely hold himself together. No, the suit meant he was strong and a hero.
That evening Peter swung around his neighbourhood; he helped an old lady cross the road, an old man find his car keys, a young kid get his bike back and even got a free churro from a random guy in a pop-up stall. All in all, his evening was going well… that was of course until the sounds of sirens came from nearby…
“Peter there is a report of a robbery a couple blocks away, would you like directions?” Karen asked in her usual cheerful voice - Peter really needed to work on giving her personality, maybe once he got some more money and tech.
“I’m okay Karen,” Peter responded as he began swinging in the direction he heard the sirens. As he drew closer he could hear screams, just before he swung around the corner and straight into the thief - who was sprinting down the street.
Unfortunately for Peter it was not just the thief who was running, it was also the knife in his hand. Which was now in Spider-Man’s abdomen.
For a moment he didn’t realise, just freezing in place, staring at the hooded guy in front of him (who mind you, looked just as shocked) before looking back down at the blade now stuck in his stomach and profusely bleeding.
In a split second the robber dropped the knife and made a run for it, police shouting from the other end of the street. Luckily (or unluckily depending how you view it), Peter’s spidey senses kicked in and he immediately shot out a web that launched onto his attacker and made him hurtle face first into the pavement.
Soon after the police had met up to them, huffing and puffing. But just as the main officer opened his mouth to speak, Peter had disappeared into thin air, swinging away.
Getting stabbed was never fun. Peter would rate it a -5 out of 10 if he could, definitely would not recommend it for anyone wondering. Especially so when he landed ontop of a rooftop biting his fist to stop himself from screaming. Despite now Spider-manning (was that a word) for almost a year now, Peter had never found himself getting stabbed. Or at least not thoroughly - he’d been cut and slashed but that was besides the point. The point was: how the actual fuck was he going to get through this?
So doing the only reasonable thing a sixteen-year-old would do, he pulled out his (brand new!!) phone and began to text a message to his best friend, Ned Leeds.
Ned, the godsend he was, was Peter’s best (and only) friend, and also the only person that knew Peter was Spider-Man. Which made him therefore the only person he could tell about being stabbed by a thief on the other side of town to his home at 12am on a Tuesday.
Unfortunately for Peter, he had lost all his contacts and had to work based on memorisation… which apparently was not one of the abilities that came with a radioactive spider bite.
Peter: hey ned u up?
Peter: how do i safely remove a knife
Peter: out of my stomach btw
Peter: im bleeding out lol
And thus, unluckily for Peter, it was not in fact Ned that saw, read and then responded to his texts.
Unknown number: What the actual fuck?
Unknown number: Who’s Ned? Who are you? And why have you been stabbed?! In your stomach?! It’s 12am! On a Tuesday!
If Peter hadn’t already been stabbed through his stomach he would’ve felt his aforementioned stomach fall to the floor as he read those next texts. How on earth did he manage to not only text a stranger… but also a stranger who responded. Like surely that was unlucky. In fact, Peter was feeling quite unlucky at the moment.
Peter: lol i was joking dw wrong number!! Hahaha
Unknown number: Don’t kid me. I might be old but I’m not dumb. That wasn’t a joke.
Peter: you’re old? gross lol
Unknown number: You’re deflecting kid. How’d you get stabbed?
Peter: i ran into a knife?
Peter: how do i get it out without bleeding out?
Peter: if ur pestering me u should help me
Unknown number: If I help you, you’re going to have to explain it to me. At least a little.
Peter: yea ok but hurry up w the explanation man
Maybe luck was finally on Peter’s side because lo and behold, random unknown number’s explanation did actually help! Mind you Peter did have to bleed out a whole bunch for five minutes beforehand because the weirdo made a big deal about it. But still! Now Peter was all bandaged up, the bloody knife scattered on the roof top beside him, and his super healing finally beginning to kick in. Things were looking up! Tonight wouldn’t be the night he died. As much as he wouldn’t be opposed to it, Peter had a chemistry test on Friday he needed to complete.
Perhaps Peter had spoken too soon, because he wasn’t feeling as lucky when his phone pinged once more to remind him of his promise to this random old fart that technically saved his life (technically - Peter did the hard yards).
Unknown number: So what happened kid?
Peter: how do u know im a kid?
Unknown number: I was saying it as a term of endearment cause you’re stupid and you text like a kid.
Unknown number: Are you a kid???
Unknown number: How old are you?!
Peter: y do u wanna know my age
Peter: perv
Unknown number: Because I DON’T want to be a perv. I swear I’m not a perv.
Peter: sounds lik something a perv would say
Peter: but its ok mr. perv, im actually a teen so not a child
Unknown number: A teenager is a child and I should not be talking to you.
Unknown number: However, a teenager should also not be getting stabbed.
Unknown number: For your safety and wellbeing I need to know what happened.
And unbeknownst to Peter, Tony Stark, on the other side of the screen, was also planning on tracking Peter’s phone number. Because what on earth was a teenager/child (practically a baby!!) doing getting stabbed at 12am in the morning? What sort of person would Tony be if he didn’t use his advanced technology to stalk people for their safety (he would be the person he was a couple hours ago stalking where Clint’s home was, because apparently Tony wasn’t invited there cause he didn’t act PG-13).
Peter: i was just in my kitchen and i ran into a knife
Peter: these things do happen
Unknown number: Even if these things do happen, which they don’t. Why did you text this Ned fellow? Why not tell your parents?
Peter: im an orphan :P
Unknown number: Oh shit, I’m sorry kid.
Unknown number: Am I allowed to swear? Sorry.
Unknown number: But what about your guardian?
Peter: heh, language. cap america wouldnt approve
Peter: and my aunt was asleep
Peter: but lik i wasnt tryna text u just ned so lik dw abt it
Peter: mind u i think u and ned have almost the same number
Peter: urs ends in 69 and his in 67, otherwise theyre the same
Peter: LMAO
Unknown number: Why wouldn’t Captain America approve? And why wouldn’t you wake your Aunt? In the future you shouldn’t try and text your friend but instead call an emergency number.
Peter: pssh ur not my dad
Unknown number: I’m serious kid, you should’ve contacted an ambulance. You could’ve died.
Unknown number: And you can’t fool me for a second, that wasn’t from the kitchen.
Unknown number: Even if you were in a tricky spot, you shouldn’t just tell your friend. That’s dangerous.
Peter: idk why youre so stressed dude, its fine im good
Unknown number: Fine. If anything, could you at least text me if anything else bad happens? Or if your wound opens up?
Peter: u sure ur not a perv who wants to sext me?
Unknown number: Certain. I have a very lovely wife thank you very much.
Peter: fine. if itll make u feel better
Peter: i need to go text real ned
Peter: thx for helping me out perv
Peter: gnight stranger
Unknown number: Goodnight kid, stay safe.