tom holland/peter parker and steve rogers oneshots

it's always you, and it always has been- peter parker

And the last thing you remembered was someone, most likely either Sam or Steve, catching you in their arms as you collapsed.

Then the world went black, and you were enveloped in darkness.

...

When you came to, you were back in your room and Bruce and your father, Tony, were sitting nearby, speaking in hushed whispers along with Steve. You looked over to see an IV drip hooked up to your arm, the beeping monitor reading and recording your vitals.

"Hey, Dad," you croaked out, shifting your gaze back over to him and the scientist, wincing when you touched your bandage and felt a slight pain flare up in your side again.

"Take it easy, honey," he said quietly, pulling a chair up next to your bedside and brushing your hair away from your face before handing you a glass of water, which you gulped down within seconds. "You were knocked out for thirty-seven hours."

"Really?"

"Told you she never sleeps, Bruce," he turned his over to where Bruce stood by the IV drip, readjusting the bag. "This is a first, I believe. Last time she'd slept more than ten hours was when she was ten, and liked fooling around with my suits."

"Insomniacs are just like that," you and Bruce exchanged knowing smiles.

"But I finally did," you grinned.

"Sweetheart, you almost died," Steve pointed out, raising a suspicious eyebrow at you and crossing his arms. "Your father was up all night watching over you, and so were we."

"Yeah, yeah, I almost died. But I'm alive!" you grinned widely, and it was even hard for him to resist returning your smile as well---especially when you were always the one to make everyone on the team laugh no matter how serious the situation could be.

"Can I please go now?" you asked, motioning to the IV stuck in your arm, "This thing is annoying the hell out of me and I've been stuck in here for too long without any freedom."

"No training, no intense physical activity," all three men said in unison, shaking their heads. "Absolutely no training until after tomorrow morning. You understand?"

You let out an exhausted sigh. "Fine."

Sliding the needle out from the crook of your elbow, you grabbed a band-aid from the side table and stuck it on where the red spot was beginning to appear. "Guess I'll be going, then. Bye!"

"No training," Steve repeated as you left. "We're not risking you getting hurt again, so don't overexert yourself. And try to get some decent sleep today, alright?"

"Aye aye, Captain," you saluted him as you walked down the hallway.

The hands of the clock on the wall indicated that it was nearing dawn---around 5:30 in the morning. You weren't feeling drowsy except for that slightly heavy feeling you got from the medicine you'd been given to knock you out during surgery, but other than that, you were doing fine.

You saw a figure sitting on one of the lounge couches outside on the balcony through the glass doors, and realized it was Peter. Deciding that going out to take a breath air was the best option you had as of right now, since you hadn't been able to do so in several days, you slid the glass doors open and made your way outside.

You were instantly met with a cool breeze as you sat down next to him, the wind fanning your hair around your shoulders. "Peter?"

He looked up at that moment, and that was when you saw the eye bags and dark circles heavily lining underneath his eyelids, that were red and bloodshot from what you guessed was a lack of sleep, and his hair was disheveled as if he hadn't bothered to comb it in a while.