Wrong number :/~~Spider-Man

Vampire's dream 😩👌

He punched Tony's chest.

"You and I, we were meant to be".

Tony struggled to push the larger man's weight off of him, his breath knocked out by that last hit.

"I will make sure that they will never," he struck again "ever—" and again "—take you away from me!"

Peter's eyes widened as Skip's hand found its way to one of the shards of glass scattered across the room.

Tony began wheezing. Peter felt powerless. He shuffled to his feet, slowed by his injuries. He hated this. He hated it. Tony was—he was getting hurt, and it was all Peter's fault.

Skip turned his attention to Tony, and the urgency allowed the pinned to barley hold back the blade from his throat.

"Stop!" Peter cried out, rushing towards the fight, adrenaline pumping, "please—please" he sobbed as he got closer, terrified by the sight before him.

The blade went down, avoiding Tony's neck just fine, but taking a pretty great shot into his skull.

"Dad!" Peter screamed, his fist coming into contact with Skip's face hard enough to send him flying to the wall.

He stalked after the man, who was too dazed to react.

He just—

He killed..

Peter grabbed Skip by his collar, pinning his head against the concrete.

Every strike he took felt sweeter than the last. Whoever said revenge wasn't worth it was a lying bitch. Peter couldn't bring himself to guilt over the satisfaction every hit brought him.

If Peter hadn't been a coward— if he'd just.. told someone. If he'd just listened and shut up and said something and—

"Peter!" Tony's voice snapped him out of it, his muscles going lax other than the one holding Skip in place for the strike zone.

He whirled around, wide eyes as Tony rose to his feet.

How—

The blade had missed. From Peter's angle, it looked as if the blood that sprang out was from Tony's head, blocked by Skip's sleeve to see the truth.

It'd sliced his hand on the way down, barley being skidded to the side of his neck.

He was..

Peter let Skip fall to the ground, an indecipherable sound escaping his lips as he rushed over to Tony.

"Mr Stark— I.. he—" Peter bit down on his wrist as he huddled into Tony's arms, who kept a weary eye on the man on the ground.

"You don't need to explain anything, kid. Just sit still", he said quietly.

Peter huffed against Tony's chest. It was hard to smell anything other than blood, but it was easier to manage when he at least had the comforting embrace of Tony to ground him.

It felt weird to admit, but Peter also found nice to know that not all of the blood on him was just his anymore, at least.

It was a mess though.

Tony just held Peter for some time, trying to ignore his own needs to breathe heavily and shrivel up in pain.

He didn't want anything else to ever worry the kid again. Ever.

They stood there for a long time, enough for Tony to finally trust that Skip wouldn't go for another stupid attack again. He closed his eyes and made the hug deeper, trying to be cautious of Peter's injuries, while simultaneously reassuring himself that Peter was alright.