Suck It Up (Peter Parker/Irondad)

12

Here comes the conflict, do do do do.

Peter

I barely get the door closed in time before a force shoves me against the wall, the bruises on my back taking the brunt of it. Pain blurs my vision as an ominous figure looms over me. When I realize it's aunt May, I almost... relax? The emotion confuses me, but I have little time to dwell on it before I'm met with a foot to my stomach.

"You're late." Aunt May sways slightly; her words slurred. I can smell liquor on her tongue. That's not gonna make this any easier.

I mumble an apology- try to anyways- and prepare my body for another strike. With a moments hesitation, I look up cautiously after hearing a faint thud to see her star-fished on the floor, snoring loudly. My body heaves a sigh of relief, and I slowly pick my broken self off the floor. Unsurprisingly, my injuries scream at me, clearly not satisfied with the eggs Mr. Rogers cooked for me. At least the bullet wound is gone, I think to myself.

I debate leaving May alone, as to not wake her up, but I can tell by her heartbeat that that won't happen until probably tomorrow afternoon; she's basically already in the R.E.M stage of sleep. Makes sense, I'll definitely choose my confessions if what I'm planning fails. I smile slightly at the stupid reference and move silently towards the woman. I slip one arm under her outstretched arm, and another under the bend of her knee. She's pretty light, I can tell she doesn't have a good relationship with food. Same lmao.

Like walking on broken glass, I slowly make my way up the stairs, each step causing pain in every injured area, which is everywhere by now honestly. I bite down on my lip to prevent myself from making noise. She deserves this. I place her down gently on the unmade bed and brush her hair out of her face with the back of my hand.

She's beautiful.

I smile sadly and pull the blankets over her. She's gonna have a huge hangover tomorrow. I might as well get Advil and a glass of water for her, she needs it. After gathering them and placing them on her nightstand, I turn on the fan; she sleeps better with background noise. I decide to leave a note before I go.

Good morning Aunt May,

There's an Advil and water for you on the nightstand. Please drink a lot of water today, and you can take a nap if you like. I set up the couch downstairs for binge watching.

I love you,

Peter :)

I smile and go downstairs to clean up a little bit. The Stark Internship gave me an energy I didn't know I had. It's not like it was a flawless day, I mean I embarrassed myself in front of Mr. Stark- no scrap that, most of the Avengers, pretty irredeemably. Still, it was almost... comforting? I mean, when was the last time someone cooked for me?

Cleaning distracted me for a little bit, I didn't really expect to pick up more shards of broken glass this week but here we are. By the time I'm done, I have small cuts littering my fingers, but they were disinfected by the cleaning spray I got in them and wowthathurtsobad.

Shaking my hands as to get rid of the pain, I make my way up the stairs to finally start patrolling. Basically all of my injuries were infected at this point, with all of the bacteria that's gotten into them despite me taking a shower. Brushing past that fact, I need to figure out a way to eat tonight. The lack of food is taking a serious toll on me, and my fast metabolism basically doubled it. I'm pretty sure the only reason I'm still alive is because by body's been using my abundance of amino acids that came with this spider package.

I remember when I first found out about my super healing. It was when May had first started hitting me, and she left a pretty bug bruise next to my shoulder. I ignored it and ate instead since food was still readily available at the time. I found that after I had eaten, the bruise was completely healed, along with some of the other small injuries I had somehow accumulated. From that I had deduced this; depending on my worst injury, all of the nutrients from the food will hyper focus on healing it. From there, it proceeds to heal the next worst, and so on. In summary, I'm still fatally freaking wounded, minus the bullet wound. So that's good I guess. I remember it making me mad at the time, but over the years I've learned to be grateful for it. Much like other things...

Shaking the thought from my thoughts, I exchange my dirty clothes with my beaten suit and hop out the window, hoping for an escape from reality I had returned to for so long.

How was I supposed to know it'd be the opposite?

Tony

"Go on, don't you have to find a spider or something?" I tease Sam.

He rolls his eyes and waves his squad out the door. "Not my fault the guy isn't consistent with his life-saving!" He calls over his shoulder, Bucky and Natasha disappearing after him.

"I'll be in contact!" I say referring to our handheld communication system. Sighing, I roll over onto the couch to follow them virtually. Normally I'd have something more interesting to work on, but since Peter had solved that, nothing else was of importance. After what seems like minutes later, I realize I must've fallen asleep because I was woken up by Friday saying "There has been a Spider-Man spotting near Delmar's Deli-Grocery."

I recognize that as the place Peter works at and wonder if he's a Spider-Man fanboy as well. He must be, but I peg him for the type to be more interested in the science part, not the fighting part. Maybe he's an Iron-Man fanboy? I'll make sure to ask him tomorrow. Rubbing the excess sleep from my eyes, I check on what Sam and the others are doing. Looks like they're following him already. That was quick. But shouldn't they be asking him nicely?

I watch Sam follow the dips and turns of Spider-Man's movement, occasionally trying to take a shortcut. All of a sudden I see blood spurt from the hero's shoulder, and him falling behind a building.

They're supposed to take him safely! I yell into the comms, "What the fuck, Wilson?".