(A/N: Requested by hannahshoodies
wow i got this out a lot quicker than the last one yeAST MY GUY
Even though Peter had taken down the Vulture, he had still managed to sell plenty of weapons made from old alien/Avengers tech to the criminal underworld of New York. And considering the predicament Peter was in now, he regretted not making 'track down the rest of the weapons' a bigger priority on his to-do list.
Lasers whizzed around his face as Spider-Man flipped and jumped around, desperately trying to avoid getting shot with the unknown rounds. Who knows what would happen if he got hit? He really didn't feel like finding out.
The man who was shooting at him, some guy in a parka despite it getting warmer out, stopped firing long enough for Peter to shoot a stream of webs at the odd firearm and wrench it from his hands. "I'll be taking that!" he quipped as he slung it further into the alley. His Spidey sense suddenly blared in alarm, though he couldn't tell what from.
"Look out behind you," Karen warned a split second after. All of a sudden he felt something rake across his back painfully. Peter yelped in surprise and jumped away, the sudden coolness of the night air through his ripped suit fabric startling him. The wound burned harshly. The man who had clawed him had a silver gauntlet on his right hand that was sparking slightly.
"Geez, what kinds of things were they selling?" Peter couldn't help but question to himself. He turned away from the first guy for long enough that he could grab the rifle and squeeze another shot off. It landed home. He cried out loudly as he fell to the ground. The shot had landed square in his chest. He curled around his midsection in utter pain, his Spidey sense now so piercing that it was almost painful as well. His vision wavered as the two men descended upon him. In a moment of sudden realization, Peter knew that they had no intention of leaving him alive.
The man suddenly flew back in a blast of light, thudding hard into the far wall of the alleyway. Peter saw a flash of red and gold before the darkness claimed his mind.
When he finally came to, the first thing he registered was how much his body hurt. He groaned out of reflex, someone next to him stirring at the noise. He cracked his eyes open and discovered he was laying in a hospital bed, in what he believed was the Avengers Facility's infirmary. His blurry vision managed to make out the form of Tony, who had seemingly fallen asleep at his bedside. "Kid?" he questioned.
"Hey Mr. Stark," Peter replied, his voice slightly shaky. There was a small smile on his face.
"I told you, it's Tony."
"You doing alright? That was quite a big hit you took."
"I'm alright," Peter replied, though unconvincingly as a stab of pain shot through his body as he shifted, making him hiss slightly as he spoke. "What shot me?"
"Far as I can tell, some sort of modified laser made from an old Chitauri blaster. You're lucky it didn't kill you, but your chest's gonna be singed for the next couple weeks." Peter groaned, but not entirely from the pain.
"If I'm out for that long, what am I gonna tell school?"
"I already called Midtown Tech, told them we're going on a trip around Europe for a while. They've already sent over some homework, and I'm sure your friend can help you out." Peter couldn't contain a smile.
"Thanks M- Tony," he quickly corrected himself, eliciting a smirk from the elder.
"I'm gonna let ya rest, there's still some sedative in your system," Tony commented as he stood, padding over to the door. Before he exited however, the youth called,
"Uh, Tony?" He looked over. "Thank you." He gave Peter one last friendly smile in thanks before quietly shutting the door behind him.
YOU ARE READING
BEING REWRITTEN ------- Aunt May is dead. Murdered, in a home invasion gone wrong. Peter wasn't there to stop it. The Avengers took him in, but nobody really knows how to help him. And when Peter discovers the one responsible, it only gets harder. ...