(MMMM angst 🤭 get ready y'all
Prompt 2 is flinching)
Peter had been hit. Hard.
He didn't know by what or by who anymore. He just knew that his head was pounding and he had fallen, leaving the wind knocked out of him, feeling like he couldn't breath.
Karen was saying something in his ear that he couldn't interpret. His head was pounding and everything felt fizzy and numb. Like all his limbs had been washed over with something that made his skin tingle and anything and everything in his stomach had been replaced with carbonated soda.
He pulled his mask up above his mouth, slightly obscuring his vision. He was clinging to whatever wall he was standing by desperatly as his stomach did intense acrobatics right up to his throat.
He concluded he must have hit his head as his vision spun intensely and he lost which was was up versus down.
Someone was calling his name. Not spiderman.
His name.
It rose above all the other chaos he heard. He couldn't distinguish the sounds of battle, from Karen trying to tell him something, from the ringing he was hearing.
He distinguished something about Mr. Stark and on the way from the two voices that where echoing over into his ears as he stumbled back to the ground, gagging.
He really wasn't doing well. For a minute he questioned if he was stuck to a wall, stable somehow on his hands and knees, and was about to vomit and start choking. His vision was so severely impaired he couldn't tell what direction was which.
Then he heaved, unable to control it any longer. He splattered sick everywhere. He felt it on his hands, sinking into his suit. It puddled on the ground in front of him, thankful at least that he was on rough, solid pavement instead of stuck to a wall somewhere by accident.
He tried to pull his hands out of the mess but found he couldn't balance upright without forward support.
The movement of trying to stand was enough to make him vomit again, leaving him gasping for breath, incapable of finding a rhythm to his inhales and exhales again.
"Pete? Come in?" He heard over his mask, over the ringing, over the awkward white static that covered everything.
He couldn't manage any noise but a groan in response.
"Your suit---- ------ ------ where are you?" The voice asked. He missed a bunch in the middle. He couldn't understand barely what he'd been asked.
"I don't know." He sobbed, his head feeling like it would split in two. He couldn't tell where he was. He couldn't remember what he'd been doing.
"Pete, just stay calm. Deep breaths, I'm gonna find you okay?"
Peter felt his breath hitch again as he pitched forward and heaved for a third time.
"Did you just throw up?" The voice over his mask asked, a twinge of surprise and concern in the man's voice.
"Think-" he said, "I hit my head." He was breathing harshly and unevenly, "and everywhere else." He added after a moment. His concussion hadn't completely dulled his sense of humor.
"I found you. I found you, oh God kid."
Peter didn't even hear as the Ironman suit landed next to him or when it opened up for Tony to step out of it.
"Tony." Peter sobbed, "c-can't- see." He was curled up on himself, kneeling on his knees, holding his stomach, almost like a spider that had been stepped on, but wasn't completely dead yet.
"Okay, okay. We're gonna get you all fixed up. Deep breaths." The older hero comforted, kneeling next to the teen. His heart tugged when the boy used his first name. Tony.
That only happened when he was really distressed.
"FRIDAY, tell me his injuries." Tony requested to his own AI, very tenderly moving the torn fabric of the spiderman mask to discover the large gash in his head.
"Severe concussion, symptoms: nausea, vomiting, unevenly dilated pupils, dizziness, vertigo, blurry vision, ringing in ears, memory impairment.
Other likely injuries are fractured ribs and wrist." The AI reported.
Peter let out another sob. His whole body was throbbing in pain.
"Just breathe Pete, we're gonna get you feeling better real soon." Stark said as he climbed back into the Ironman suit. From there he scooped Peter up, careful not to jostle him to much as they lifted into the air and flew towards the Avengers tower.
Halfway through the flight Peter gagged, his stomach not settling well at all in the air.
"Mr. Stark?" He called out nervously, only seeing the grey sky spinning blurrily above him.
"What's up, kid?" Stark said, his voice carrying over the radio in his mask, unable to be heard from inside the suit and behind the sound of the wind.
"Im- I'm gonna be sick." He choked out, tugging out an arm from the grip of Ironman and pulling his mask partway off.
Tony searched for a place to land, he really did, but Peter spewed down the front of himself before he got the chance to land anywhere.
Mr. Stark sighed, concern decorating his features as he landed on a nearby rooftop, holding the boy upright as he coughed up more of his stomach.
Tony moved his hand, suit and all, to remove the rest of Peter's bloody mask, but he flinched away, stumbling to the side as every little thing in his vision burned bright and blurry. His symptoms were only worsened by his enhanced sight and hearing.
He found himself cringing at the world, startling away from anything that approached him, jumping at any sound that stood out above the ringing.
"Hey, it's just me. It's okay." Tony said kindly, but the boy let out an overwhelmed hiccup before collapsing into his arms.
Stark carried him to help.
With his speedy healing and a couple weeks, he was good as new.
(This is rough and an extremely vague take on this prompt but the little idea at the end with the stumbling to the side was there from the start so take it as it is 🤷)