peter parker oneshots

playing catch with a building is harder than it sounds

And suddenly it was falling, falling, falling and all Peter knew was fear and darkness and stone. The building was collapsing, rubble raining down as the once majestic structure fell victim to a bomb that was so small but so completely powerful. And Peter caught it. The weight of the building slammed onto his back and pain ripped through his body as he held the entire structure on his back. But he didn't scream. He didn't cry out or curse or groan. He just took it. Because that's what he always did. He took the hits and he rolled with them, whether it was his parents dying, or the discovery of crazy powers, or a high school bully, or a murderous alien. Pain was an old friend of Peter's. He was a boy who was friends with pain and followed by death. And he had lost, my god had he lost. Peter wouldn't lose this. He wouldn't lose Mr Stark. Peter would hold up this goddamn building until someone came and got them or he'd die trying. He had to.

"Kid? Peter?" Speak of the devil.

"Mr Stark," Peter choked out, struggling to talk as he held the building on his back. Peter didn't know what was happening, one moment they were fighting and the next he heard a beep, beep, beep and he was running. There Mr Stark was, out of the suit and lying on the floor, beaten and bruised, in a building rigged to blow. And now they were under it, Peter's body the only thing between them and death.

"What's happening? Why aren't we dead?" Peter chuckled at Tony's bluntness. "What's holding the building up?"

"I am," Peter told him, ignoring the pain radiating through his body. Vaguely he registered a sharp pain in his abdomen, but Peter paid it no attention. He couldn't.

"What - Peter - how are you holding - freaking building - what the fuck - kid -" Tony stammered.

"S'alright, Mr Stark," Peter tried to reassure him, "not my first time."

"Kid," Tony deadpanned, "that is literally the opposite of reassuring." Peter chuckled.

"Are you alright?" Peter asked next.

"Yeah, I'm fine, kid," Tony replied and Peter sighed with relief. He didn't know what he would do if he wasn't. He wouldn't be able to help Tony if he was injured with his current position of holding up the fucking building so they didn't get crushed to death - and oh go were they gonna get crushed to death oh god oh god oh god. 

And suddenly Peter wasn't there anymore. He wasn't holding up a building with Mr Stark beside him, he was under a building and he was alone and he was in his old suit and he couldn't breathe, he couldn't breathe, he couldn't breathe. He wasn't getting out of this. Peter was going to die. Peter's thoughts spiralled. Helphelphelpsomebodypleasehelppleasehelpmeohgodohgodimgoingtodie helppleaseimstuckicantbreatheicantbreatheicantbreatheidontwanttogo. A click of someone's fingers. Peter was back. Tony's concerned face swam into his vision, resting just a few inches away from him and Peter remembered, he remembered. He wasn't there. He was here. With Mr Stark. Not alone. "Hey kid, hey I'm right here, tesoro," Tony said gently, worry shining in his brown eyes.

"It's heavy, Mr Stark," Peter choked out, entire body trembling under the weight of the building. "I can't hold it. I can't hold it."

"Yes, you can," Tony told him firmly, leaving not even a single trace of doubt in his tone. "You can do this because you are the strongest person I know. And I know some pretty damn strong people, kid. You're doing so well. Just hold it a little longer." 

Peter whimpered softly as silence hung in the air, occasionally broken by Peter's pants. "Kid?" Tony voice once again broke the silence, "there's something dripping on my leg." Peter didn't respond. He couldn't respond. His body was screaming at him, muscles on fire, as he held the rubble with trembling arms. Agony. He was in agony. Peter had been shot, stabbed, burned, beaten and bruised but nothing, nothing, could compare to the pain he was experiencing now. He had to get this off now. Peter didn't know how much longer he could hold it. But if he dropped it, Mr Stark would die. He couldn't let that happen. Peter's expression hardened, eyes lighting with a fiery determination. They wouldn't die here. Not if Peter had anything to do with it.

"That would be because of the shrapnel in my stomach, Mr Stark," Peter replied casually, as though they were discussing the weather, desperately trying to quiet his pants so Tony wouldn't hear just how hard holding the building was. he didn't want Mr Stark to try anything drastic as the man had been known to do and he couldn't stand the worry that shone in Tony's caramel eyes.

"The shrapnel in your- god kid," Tony exclaimed, "that might have been good to know a little bit earlier."

"Maybe," Peter tried to shrug, groaning at the reminder of the weight on his back.

"My heart can't handle this sort of thing, kid," Tony joked with a grin that was only slightly forced. Still, Peter was grateful for the bad joke. It was something else to focus on.

"C'mon, Mr Stark, I know old age is hard but even someone as old as you should be able to deal with a light impaling," Peter responded, smiling at Tony's offended gasp. "You aren't even the one with the shrapnel in your stomach."

"You're gonna be the death of me," Tony muttered fondly.

"I mean if I drop this, I might literally be the death of you," Peter attempted to joke, light tone obviously strained. The mood instantly dropped at the reminder of their possible imminent deaths.

"Don't worry, Pete, the avengers will find us soon," Tony said firmly, but Peter couldn't tell if he was reassuring him or himself. Tony might have been putting up a good front, but Peter could see the panic in his eyes, hear the rapid thundering of his heart, smell the sweat that covered Tony's body. He was terrified. And rightly so. 

The rubble on Peter's back shifted slightly, some of the weight abandoning the rest, Peter's body sighing in relief as the weight was lessened. The avengers were shifting the rubble. Good. The only problem would be if it shifted too much and came down on them. But if they didn't get out of here soon, oxygen would run out.

"They're coming, Mr Stark," Peter told the older genius, "they're moving the rubble." Tony let out an excited whoop, Peter grimacing at the loud noise but smiling nonetheless. The two heroes joked with each other as the load on Peter's back slowly grew lighter and lighter. "Mr Stark," Peter said.

"Yeah kid?"

"I can lift the rubble," Peter told him. Enough of the rubble had been moved away for it to be light enough for Peter to lift. He could do it. He could get them out. He could save them.

"You got this, bambino," Tony told him, hope painting his tired features. 

With a grunt, Peter shifted slightly under the rubble, catching his breath when some rocks fell, missing Tony's head narrowly. Steeling himself, Peter took a deep breath, closing his eyes. Come on Spider-man. And he pushed upwards. And he pushed and he pushed and he pushed and he pushed. He was doing it. he was lifting the rubble. Light blinded Peter as pain danced through his body.

"Go!" Peter yelled at Tony. Tony scrambled to his feet and sprinted over to where the Avengers were stood. Peter staggered under the weight of the rubble he was still holding up. One more push. One more push and it would be over. He could rest. Exhaustion was coursing through his veins, waltzing beside pain as Peter fought to hold the rubble. Locking eyes with Mr Stark who was held back by a crying Pepper, Peter felt a sense of calm wash over him. He could do this. Mr Stark believed in him. Mr Stark needed him. Peter would do this. With a groan, Peter stood upright, pushed the rubble off his back and letting it slide off. He was free. Suddenly, Mr Stark was at his side, pulling his over to the quinjet with the other Avengers and they were flying.

"Don't think we aren't going to talk about the 'not my first time' thing later," Tony warned peter with a smile as he gazed upon the exhausted boy. Peter chuckled weakly.

"Knew you'd say that," he muttered.

"We're almost at the tower kid, then we can treat that stomach of yours and you'll be back to normal in no time," Tony reassured Peter. "You did good, kid."

"Thanks Mr Stark," Peter replied. And he knew, everything would be okay.

Because Peter would always be there to catch buildings. And Tony would always be there to catch Peter.

A/N - hope you enjoyed the one-shot.