Someone on Tumblr mentioned that they would like for me to write a story in which Peter was injured instead of Rhodey in Civil War. This is the result :)

1. The Fall

So…the fight was going…badly. Really…really badly. Steve wasn't stopping to listen. No one was. There wasn't even supposed to be a fight!

Tony has honestly had hope that this would work. He'd really thought that bringing the kid in, convincing Steve to just take a fucking second and talk…that it would all work out! They were adults! And Tony had thought that they were friends. He'd thought that this could be fixed. Because the world needed the Avengers. Hell, Tony needed the Avengers. His friends. Practically his family.

He'd benched the kid, so he didn't have to worry about him anymore…the battle had gone airborne anyway. The kid had done a good job…really, a really good job. Tony would have to keep an eye on him, but for the moment, Tony had to focus on the battle in the air. That is, until Sam dodged a beam shot by Vision…and then Rhodey was calling for him. Because his suit was dead.

Tony dove, thrusters going at full power.

He wasn't going to reach him. Not in time. He flew anyway, arms out, praying that someone, somehow…and then…then he heard the voice.

"I've got him!" The voice came over the comms right in Tony's ear, almost bringing him up short.

It made no sense. And things rarely made no sense to Tony Stark. He always understood things…his brain always made sense of whatever puzzle he was trying to solve eventually. Hell, he'd discovered a new element to save his own life! He'd created an arc reactor out of scraps in a cave! How could something so simple make no sense?

Because that voice belonged to Peter Parker of Queens, who he'd benched. Who had been just injured enough to freak Tony out…to make him feel guilty over dragging the fourteen-year-old into this in the first place. The kid had taken Cap's shield to the face, had a loading bridge dropped onto him, and had been swatted out of the sky by a giant man. So he'd benched him. Told him he'd done good. And then he'd gone on with the fight, desperate to contain Steve before Ross showed up to give it a try.

One moment Tony had been diving after Rhodey…arm outstretched, desperate. His family…no, his team was falling apart. He'd been desperate enough that he'd recruited a fourteen-year-old to help him out, and said kid had almost been seriously hurt, and now Rhodey….

Not Rhodey. He couldn't lose Rhodey. He'd lost Jarvis and his mother and his shitty father and he was losing the friends he'd been so desperate to keep…the ones he'd designed rooms for in his home and the ones he'd made smoothies for and opened his life to…but he couldn't lose Rhodey. Not his best friend. The man who had been a brother to him who had loved him who had gotten him through every loss so far…he wasn't going to make it in time.

And then…a web attached to his suit and a yank…a flash of red and blue, too high in the air. How had Peter gotten…how was Peter…arms wrapped around the War Machine suit, a web…a web going from Rhodey to Tony's suit. Tony stopped short, his instincts working before his brain had fully processed the situation. The kid had attached a web between him and Rhodey…and when Tony stopped short, so did Rhodey's suit.

The next second seemed to take hours. Peter let go of the suit, all of them so high in the air. He aimed his wrist at Tony's suit, and then Tony understood. Peter was worried that with his added weight going at the speed they were going, his web might not hold. So Spiderman held up his wrist as the War Machine suit bounced a little in the air.

Nothing happened.

He was out of web fluid. The boy looked at up him, the lenses on his suit going wide right before…

The kid didn't stop.

The dull thud of Peter Parker's body hitting the tarmac would join wormholes and Pepper plummeting out of sight in his nightmares. The sight of the boy, smaller somehow in a suit that Tony had designed, hitting the ground…bouncing just a little…his head coming up and then cracking against the ground once more…that sight would never leave him. Tony was sure of it.

"No!" The scream that tore out of Rhodey's throat stunned Tony, but not as much as the sight of Peter Parker lying absolutely stilling the concrete for the second time that day.

How…how? He'd told the kid to stay down, Tony thought numbly, lowering Rhodey to the ground and watching his friend scramble out of the suit. He touched down and the suit retracted, leaving him free to race to the kid's side, gasping for air. Wheezing. Desperate for it. This couldn't be happening.

Peter Parker. Fourteen. Orphan. Sophomore. Spiderman. Genius.

"No…no no…shit!" Rhodey was muttering under his breath and pulling Peter's mask back and Tony felt like he was breathing underwater. No. This wasn't possible. He'd told the kid he was done. He'd benched him! The kid had done great but then he'd been hurt and Tony couldn't live with himself if he got a fourteen-year-old boy hurt in a fight like this. "Tony!"

His friend's cry jolted him out of his stupor and he reached out with shaking hands, two fingers pressed to Peter's throat. A heartbeat. Rhodey held his hand over the boy's mouth and nodded to himself, neither of them wanting to look at the trail of blood that ran from the boy's nose. "What…what the fuck…". Tony whispered, fighting the urge to shake the kid…or hug him.

Peter had saved Rhodey's life. Spiderman had saved his best friend. And now…now the boy wasn't moving. His heart had to be beating because Rhodey hadn't said anything. But his friend had stopped, shaking hands hovering over the boy's chest.

"I didn't mean to…" Sam touched down a few feet away, wings folding behind him, words dying in his throat when he saw the boy's face. Saw the discarded mask that lay in a heap at his side…the bloody discarded mask. Tony hadn't meant for the kid's identity to get out. Hadn't meant for any of this…still couldn't process any of this! The kid…Peter…had blood running from one of his nostrils, a messy line of red that went from his nose and down his cheek to the concrete under him, and Tony wanted to wipe it off. He felt the urge to use his sleeve and wipe the boy's face. A child. This was a child. And because of Tony…what if…what if he…

"Oh…oh shit!" Sam raced toward them, jerking his arms out of his wingsuit and letting it fall to the ground as he dropped to his knees. Fingers checked for a pulse before he spoke into his comms. "I need medical right now! It's a kid! There's a kid down on the tarmac" He barked. Tony could only imagine what kind of responses he was getting. Everything seemed too quiet. How was it this quiet? Hadn't there been a battle going on around him?

He should have called for medical, Tony thought, his brain barely working. Why hadn't he called for medical? Why did his chest feel too tight? Why couldn't he move? Wipe the blood off of Peter's cheek? Feel the boy's pulse? What if he stopped breathing?

"How old is this kid? Fuck, Tony." Sam bit out, peeling back one of Peter Parker's eyelids to reveal only the whites of his eyes. And Tony wanted to defend himself. Wanted to explain. But the boy was silent. Still. As still as death. Tony had known Peter for roughly a day and already knew that this kid didn't do 'still.' He was fidgety and excitable and there was no way he would just lie there like this. "Tony!" Sam snapped again, and Rhodey placed a firm hand on his shoulder.

"Tones? Man, you gotta breathe. Hey!" Tony took a gasping, wheezing breath, looking up at Rhodey with what felt like despair written plain on his face. "Tones, he's alive. For now, he's alive. Medical is on their way. Can you scan him? Or…or can his suit scan him?"

Tony nodded, feeling his thoughts turn back into something that resembled order. "Yeah…yeah.." He choked out, scooting a little closer to the boy and pulling out his phone. Opening the display for Peter's suit, he had the hologram up so that Sam could see too. Out of the three of them, he had the most medical training, with Rhodey coming in at a close number two.

Immediately Rhodey leaned in, eyes scanning the hologram that listed Peter's injuries. Some were what Tony had expected. Bruising. Lots of it. A black eye. Some broken ribs. All of those were to be expected. Horrific, listed like that in regards to a child that he had dragged into all this, but still. Not the end of the world. But then there were others. Words like 'spinal' and 'fracture' and 'damage' that Tony's brain refused to process. Because Peter Parker, orphan, sophomore, spiderman, genius, could not have a damaged spine. Because that would mean…no. Tony refused to think about what that would me. No. Hard stop. Like a wall had been erected in his brain. He refused. He couldn't face that. Not after everything.

The medics came, and Tony was vaguely aware of Rhodey pulling him backward, careful hands on his shoulders as Sam gave them what information he had. Tony was also vaguely aware that there were others. Natasha, a hand on her mouth as she watched the medics secure a collar around Peter's neck. Vision, face almost blank as they eased a backboard under the child and strapped him on. Bucky and Steve, mouths open, eyes wide as one of the medics pulled out a pair of scissors and cut down the front of Peter's suit, attaching a monitor to his chest.

And then Rhodey was pulling him forward, Sam coming along, saying words that didn't quite reach Tony's ears. It sounded like he was underwater somehow, even as Rhodey pushed him to sit. The heavily accented English mixed with German all sounded like nonsense as he tried to make himself small in the corner of the ambulance. "He…enhanced. He's…he's enhanced." He tried to say, unsure if the words came out. Sam spared him a glance and nodded, then began to explain that as best he could to the medics who were speaking so quickly that, even if Tony had known more than a few phrases in German, he would still have trouble understanding.

"Tones. Talk to me."

They weren't in an ambulance anymore. They were in a waiting room. Rhodey sat at his side as Tony stared at nothing, the scene replaying again and again. Peter attaching a web to the War Machine armor. The boy letting go…then looking up at Tony. Eye-lenses going wide…the sound of his body hitting the ground.

"What?" He asked, shaking his head and meeting his friend's concerned gaze. "Is he…is Peter…"

"We don't know yet. They just took him back. We have Helen Cho on her way…she'll help him. He's alive."

"His spine…if it…if his spine is fractured then…". Tony didn't know if he could say the word.

"We won't know for sure until the doctor comes out." He nodded. Right. He'd known that. Feeling like he was finally resurfacing from underwater, he looked around the room, quickly finding Sam and Natasha sitting on the other side, heads together, shooting him looks he couldn't decipher. Why were they here? Why did they keep staring at him?

Sam stood, moving over to sit across from them, Natasha following. "Who is he?" Sam wondered.

"Peter," Tony told him, not sure if he had any more information to give. It wasn't like he even had the right. Not really. Peter's identity was none of their business.

"How old?" Natasha wanted to know. Her voice was choked. Soft. Sad. He wanted to ask where Steve was but couldn't be bothered to care. They could sort their own shit out.

"Fourteen." Everyone was silent for a while. But Tony had to at least try to explain. "You wouldn't listen." He told Sam, speaking again when the man went to argue. "I never said the Accords were the right answer. I said that we should make them better. Keep the team together. I brought Peter to help me detain you so that we could finally sit down and talk this through."

"I never…I had no idea this would happen." Sam snapped, gesturing around at the waiting room.

"I know." And Tony did. Sam Wilson was plenty of things, but he'd never hurt a kid. None of them would.

"Steve and Bucky are hiding out. Bucky didn't blow up that building, Tony." He nodded, almost able to forget that they were waiting to see if a fourteen-year-old was paralyzed.

"Okay. Who did."

"That's what they're trying to find out."

Tony didn't care what they did…not really. Because he had to make this right with Peter before he worried about anything else. It was on him. The boy had gotten hurt and it was on him. All of it. He hadn't been able to make Steve listen and he hadn't been able to save Rhodey. But Peter had. Peter had ignored his direct order and had saved his best friend.

They waited for hours in a waiting room full of people that didn't spare them much of a second glance. At one point, Natasha disappeared and then returned with food that Tony ignored. All he could see, every time he blinked, was Peter. Falling. Looking at him. A hand reached out toward him, trying to shoot a web that never came. Hitting the ground. The thud. The way his body had bounced a little…the way his head had cracked against the concrete…how could he eat when that was all he could see.

Peter had been so excited to meet him. So excited to work with him…to be close to him. And Tony swore, in that moment, sitting in the waiting room with friends and possible enemies, that he would not push this kid away. If he could just…just see the boy again…talk to him…then he would be better. Better than his father ever had been…not that he was the boy's father. But still. He would be…something to Peter. Whatever the kid wanted…friend, mentor, mysterious benefactor that bought him cool shit. Tony didn't care. As long as he was okay.

Peter Parker had to be okay.

There were footsteps in the hall, and Tony looked up to find a doctor approaching, face set in a carefully blank mask. He glanced at his watch…they had been there for almost five hours.

"Mr. Stark?"

He jumped up, holding out a hand to the woman, Rhodey on his heels. "Yes. I had Peter brought in." Well, Sam had. But still…the boy was his responsibility. Under his care. The doctor nodded, glancing at the others. Finally, her eyes met Tony's and he felt his heart crack open. Her eyes were full of sympathy. Sadness. They weren't the eyes of someone about to give him good news.

"Mr. Stark, why don't we go…"

"Just tell me." He begged, surprised at how easy the plea came. "Just…is he alive?"

She nodded, seeming to struggle to meet his eyes. "Yes. He is alive."

"Will he…will he ever walk again?" She pressed her lips together.

"It would really be better if we…"

"Will he walk again?" He demanded. He couldn't move…couldn't breathe until he knew. Because once he knew, he could prepare. He could fix it. He was a mechanic. He fixed things. The woman sighed, then lowered her voice, leaning in.

"Mr. Stark…we are doing the best we can, but at this point…considering the head trauma he suffered…we aren't sure if he'll ever regain consciousness again."

Thank you for reading!