A/N: Hello everyone! This is a prequel to one of my other fics (She Isn't Gwen) and a companion to Christmas Lights. This is the first of three chapters.I hope you enjoy! As always, I own nothing.

The concept behind The Challenge was simple enough. Walk from Point A to Point B within a given amount of time and in return you get to leave the hospital wing. Fall, pass out, tear your stitches, or accept help from someone else and you get a one-way ticket back to bed. The rules were very straight forward and no one had yet to go back on them. You could moan and groan all you wanted but everyone stuck with whatever the outcome was. But while the idea behind The Challenge was simple enough, actually completing it was a totally different story.

Pain. That was really the only way Peter Parker could explain it. In the simplest terms, he was in pain. If you wanted to get complicated, he could tell you that his right side was throbbing in tune with his heartbeat. His stomach churned and throat burned with the need to throw up. Okay he didn't need to throw up, but for some reason his body was telling him the action would make him feel better. But at this point in time, that is not something he is willing to do.

"You're an idiot." Wait, did he just say that out loud? No, that was a woman's voice. His head snapped up and he looked Natasha straight in the eye. Her body language screamed her opinion of this situation. Arms crossed over her chest, she took his body language in as well. Her eyebrow was quirked up; she did not like what she saw. He didn't have to imagine what he looked like. He knew he looked like death warmed over. If Peter hadn't been in so much pain, he might have taken a moment to appreciate how attractive Natasha is. He wasn't stupid enough to think that he ever stood a chance with a woman like her (nor did he want the chance- he had Gwen), but he could appreciate her inward and outward beauty. At this moment in time, she was leaning against the wall about 10 feet from him. Her green eyes were hard with annoyance but behind them there was something else. Concern. Sometime in the past six months, they had grown close enough that the infamous Black Widow cared a little bit about him. They all did really; and he about them. Peter could see it written across their faces in one way or another.

"He's not an idiot! He's a champ!" That cheer came from Clint Barton. Natasha sent him a look that quickly shut him up. But when she turned back around to face Peter, Clint threw him a thumbs up behind her back and mouthed 'You got this'. Peter tried not to laugh. Laughing hurt too. But even though Clint was cheering him on, it didn't go unnoticed that his body was wound up as tight as the bow he used on a regular basis. He was ready to fly into action should Peter start to stumble.

"You know, there is a nice comfy bed right behind you. You could be in bed right now." Bruce Banner tried to be the rational one of the group. He was to Peter's right, wiping his glasses on his shirt. Bruce looked tired and this made Peter feel guilty. He had been up all night long dealing with Peter's injury. Now that he thought about it, this was a pretty crapping way to repay the man. But what else was Peter to do? He had a promise to keep and was dangerously close to breaking his word. Again. All that was standing between him and keeping that promise was fifteen feet and a door. And while the others weren't going to get in his way of leaving, they sure as hell weren't going to help him. Peter took another step and this time a jolt shot up his side and he bent over in pain.

"My aunt's couch is more comfortable." He gasped with his teeth clamped together. When he righted himself, he noticed that Bruce had taken a few steps closer and was looking at him closely. "It's okay. I'm good" He smirked at the doctor, who only rolled his eyes and set his mouth in a grim line. "Just for the record, I appreciate last night."

"Yeah, you said that already." Bruce said. "But I'd rather not stitch you up for the third time in the past ten hours." The past twelve hours hadn't been the most fun. It all started with a slip-up. Peter had messed up while doing the Spider-Man thing. What had started out as a routine patrol quickly deteriorated into the mess that he was in at the moment. How many times had he taken a knife away from a common criminal? The answer to that is: so many times that he lost count. It was simple really. Swing in, catch the delinquent off guard, remove the weapon (via webbing or a swift kick, it really didn't matter), throw out a snarky comment and then leave said criminal dangling for the police to find. It wasn't rocket science. He wasn't dealing with volatile chemicals in Tony's lab at Avenger Tower. He wasn't facing Dr. Connors. Just get the knife away from the criminal. Well, sometimes that is just easier said than done because before Peter knew it he was on the ground with blood leaking from his right side. The criminal ran off of course but the girl he had been trying to help was kind enough to throw her sweater over the stab wound and apply pressure. He had been lucky in that sense. Also in the sense that Gwen's apartment was only three blocks away. After apologizing to the girl for ruining her sweater and 'no he didn't need her to take him to the hospital', he limped off to his girlfriend's.

Limped being the key word in that sentence. He had tried to swing there, but quickly found that aerial escapades and stab wounds do not mix well. That bright idea was rewarded with a cut above his left eyebrow after he crashed into a brick wall. From there, Peter's memory gets a little fuzzy. He remembers making it to Gwen's apartment and climbing through the window. She had gotten pretty good at stitching him up. But there are some wounds that Gwen Stacy can't fix. Next thing he knows, she has his phone open and is talking to someone. He can hear the fear in her voice. "I… I'm sorry… I just didn't know who else to call." She took a deep breath and continued, "He's at my apartment with me but I can't handle this. There is too much blood and he can't stay awake. I'm putting pressure on it but it's not stopping." All of this is said in a whisper so that her mom doesn't hear what's going on. "What do I do?" Tears are rolling down her cheeks but now her voice is in control. Whoever is on the line has given her a task and Gwen is nothing if not diligent. Her blue eyes lock onto his brown ones and she begins to talk again, "Wait! He's awake!" She shoves the phone into his hand and moves it to his ear all in one fluid motion. It is then that he notices that state of himself.

Gwen has multiple towels pressed to his side and some are soaked in red. It takes a second for him to register that the red substance is his own blood. It takes even longer for the voice on the other end of the line to snap him back to reality. It's Bruce on the phone. Gwen was knowledgeable enough to know that of the Avengers, Bruce was the one to call when faced with a medical emergency.

"Hey Big Guy, you can stop yelling in my ear now. Special Spidey hearing, remember?" He whispered into the phone with as much energy as he could muster up.

"Peter, what happened? Gwen couldn't tell us much other than there is a lot of blood and you keep passing out. Talk to me." Peter can hear movement in the background. They are coming to get him. Of course, they are. Peter couldn't very well go to the emergency room. Only a handful of people knew he was Spider-Man.

"I screwed up, Bruce. It's a knife wound. Ahh!" Gwen had chosen that moment to apply more pressure. She silenced his moan with a look. There were a lot of emotions in those eyes: anger, fear, panic, love, grief. And Peter understood each and every one of them.

"Where is it at? Gwen said the right side but is it high enough to involve your lungs?" Another question in the background and Peter heard him say, "I don't know, Tony." A car door slammed. They were on the move. "Is it serious enough that we need to send Iron Man?"

"No. Don't do that. Just park in the alley behind the building." His mind became clear at the thought of Tony flying over to the apartment. Gwen didn't need that kind of attention. "It's really not that serious."

"The sound of your voice and a frantic phone call from Gwen at 1:30 in the morning tell me a different story, Peter." His voice was quiet, but Bruce never needed The Other Guy to get his point across. His tone spoke volumes and knocked Peter down a peg or five.

"I screwed up." He repeated and swallowed the lump in his throat, "I don't know what happened. I worked out with Nat either but I didn't think I was that tired. I got the one knife but he must have had another on him. I dropped the ball."

"That's not important right now. I'm sure you'll get an earful from Cap later. Tell me about the wound. Any idea on how deep it is?" It's on speaker phone now. I can hear the car moving.

"No clue. My Spidey senses were tingling but I didn't see the knife. He took off with it. I got cocky. I thought he was down and turn my back on him…"

"Well in that case, it's Clint you'll be getting an earful from and maybe me, Bug Boy." Tony Stark, ladies and gentlemen. "If you have no more useful information, give the phone back to Gorgeous Gwen."

Time and the room begin to shift after he passed the phone back to Gwen. Suddenly, he's tired. Exhausted, really. And his body feels like it weights more than Mjolnir. He feels Gwen moving his hands to his abdomen. "I need you to hold the towel in place." He nods because the notion that he can even attempt to form words is hysterical. In fact, it makes him laugh. That's when he learns that, like aerial escapades, laughing and stab wounds do not mix.

Eyes close. Eyes open and Gwen is clearing off her desk and making room for the two superheroes to climb through the window. Eyes close. Eyes open and Gwen has taken over holding the towel in place because he can't do it. Eyes close. Eyes open and Bruce is climbing through the bedroom window. Eyes close but snap open when he feels a set of knuckles rub roughly on his sternum. "Keep 'em open, kid. You gotta stay with us." Tony whispers as Gwen moves the towels to show Bruce the damage.

"I'm sorry, Dr. Banner. I know you aren't a medical doctor but I didn't know who else to call. I can normally handle…" She was starting to ramble but stopped when Bruce raised his hand.

"It's not a problem. I'm glad you thought to call us. And it's Bruce, remember?" His voice was calm and low. He squeezed her hand. "You did a good job, Gwen. There wasn't much else you could have done. We just need to get him stabilized so we can move him. Just keep him talking. Keep him awake."

She did her best to keep Peter awake, but by that time the blood loss had drug him to the brink of exhaustion. He could recollect little after that. The stitches that Bruce looped into him should have hurt, but by that time shock had taken over and Peter felt little to nothing. He didn't feel them go in but he felt it when they tore a few minutes later.

Eyes open. He's on the fire escape with one arm around Tony's neck. Peter swears he can hear them rip wide open and bites on his lip to keep from yelping. Someone swears and he can't help but agree. This sucks. From there, it is a relatively uneventful trip. Bruce uses the towels from Gwen's room in an attempt to stem the bleeding, and they head to the SHIELD headquarters that aren't far away. Peter wished she could come with them but they need to keep up appearances. Peter could go missing in the middle of the night. Gwen could not. It was a miracle her family hadn't heard anything. Best not to tempt fate.

"I'm getting blood on your seats."

"I'll send you the bill, Bug Boy."

When Peter woke up in the next day, the pain was reduced to a dull ache. He could thank the IV in his hand for that. Bruce was passed out in the chair next to the bed, a blanket on his lap and his glasses half-way down his nose. He debated for a minute on whether or not to wake the tired doctor. Deciding it was probably best to let him know he was doing much better; Peter leaned over slightly and shook his knee. "Hey, why don't you go to bed Big Guy?"

"I could ask you the same thing." He replied lightly and rubbed the back of his neck.

"You didn't have to stay in here last night." Peter fidgeted under his blanket.

Bruce didn't reply, just fixed him with a look and set about checking his bandages. "You heal pretty quickly but that was a deep wound. You had some internal bleeding, that's why Gwen couldn't get the bleeding to stop." That also explains why using his webshooters to plug up the knife wound didn't work like it did with a gunshot wound. Bruce's voice cut through his thoughts. "You'll be down for at least a couple days." Using a pen light, he checked Peter's pupils and then sat back in his chair. "Keep both feet on the ground and get some rest. Take some time to heal. You got a nice concussion last night, too. We were more worried about your blood loss, almost over looked it."

"Aye Aye, Captain."

"That's not my title." Bruce smirked, "He wants to speak with you by the way." Peter tried not to groan. "Hey, I warned you last night that you'd probably be hearing from him."

Dropping back into the pillow, Peter ran a hand through his hair. "I need to call Aunt May and Gwen first. If anyone gets first dibs on giving a lecture it's her."

"Tony gave her a call once you were stable last night, but I'm sure she'll want to hear from you." He handed Peter his phone. "You left yours on Gwen's floor last night."

"Thanks, Bruce." The doctor began to leave the room. "Hey, Bruce!" He stopped at the door and turned. "Thank you, for everything."

"Like I said, it's not a problem. Next time, call us first. Don't scare ten years off of your girlfriend." And with that he left Peter to his phone call. Figuring it was best to fill Aunt May in, he dialed her number first. And by fill in, he planned on coming up with a nice detailed lie to appease her. She picked up on the second ring.

"Hello?" He could feel the tension in her voice.

"Hi, Aunt May. It's me." How many times would he have this conversation with her? The guilt tore at his uneasy stomach.

"Peter! Where are you? I've been worried sick! Why aren't you calling from your phone? I've left so many messages." At least, the worry was gone from her voice. She sounded relieved now.

"I'm at work, Aunt May. Mr. Stark called me in late last night and I just haven't been able to get away. I should have called, just got caught up here." This lie worked every time. Blame his absence on his 'job' and ignore the question about the phone. After being recruited by SHIELD, it was only logical to make up a front as to why Peter would be spending time at Avenger Tower. As far as anyone knew, including his aunt, Peter was an intern for Stark Industries. The cover came in handy when he needed to come up with any excuses as to why he was late or missing. Mr. Stark sure is a demanding boss.

"Oh, alright. Well, next time call, will you? Are you going to be staying late or will you be able to make dinner?" The weight of that statement hit Peter like a ton of bricks. Dinner. How could he forget? It was Uncle Ben's birthday. Even though he had been gone for a couple years now, he and Aunt May still continued to acknowledge the day. They started a tradition of going to visit the cemetery and having a quiet dinner at home, just the two of them. Aunt May made Uncle Ben's favorite meal and they reminisced the evening away.

"Are you kidding? Of course, I'll be there, wouldn't miss it for the world." He couldn't miss dinner tonight. It just wasn't an option.

"If you're too busy, I understand dear. Are you sure?" Her voice hitched. She was trying not to get her hopes up. Peter knew he hadn't been around much lately. He needed to work on that. There was a lot he needed to work on. Being someone his Aunt could depend on and not scaring his girlfriend were at the top of that list.

"I'm positive. I'll just have to tell Mr. Stark I have a hot date for the evening. He will understand." She laughed and Peter's heart soared. Aunt May didn't laugh enough. He should work on that too. Add that to the list.

"Does he still call Gwen, Gorgeous Gwen?"

Peter rolled his eyes. "Yes. And just for the record you are Magnificent May."

"Well I don't know about that," she teased lightly. "I'll let you go dear. Get your work finished. Dinner is at 6:30. I love you." He returned the sentiment and hung up the phone. Crap. Now he had a whole new problem to deal with. Originally, he had planned on being the model patient for Bruce. Six months with the Avengers and it was clear to Peter that none of them knew how to be a good patient. He was hoping to cut the poor guy some slack. So much for that, he couldn't miss this dinner.

Hence, The Challenge.

Five feet down, ten to go. He never wanted to complete and quit something so badly in his life. He looked over his shoulder at the bed he had been laying in not too long ago. It was oh, so tempting. All he had to do was say the word and he'd be comfortable again in a soft bed with an arm full of strong painkillers. Bruce had pulled the doctor card on him, took the IV out and made him wait for some of the drugs to leave his system before starting The Challenge. That's where all of the pain came from. Peter didn't complain though. It was one of the rules of The Challenge.

"I don't think he's going to make it, Bird Brain. I think the stitches are going to pop again." Tony analyzed the scene with a critical eye.

"I can hear you, you know." Peter huffed and began to move forward again. He threw a prayer up to the ceiling that the stitches held this time. He didn't need a repeat of what happened on the fire escape last night. Plus, he didn't want Stark to win the bet he had going with Clint.

"Yeah, I know", he smirked at the teenager. "I only speak the truth."

"Bullshit." Multiple people voiced at once. Tony huffed and rolled his eyes.

"I fear I do not understand what the Man of Spiders is trying to accomplish." Thor chimed in this time. They were all in attendance. Why they were all present was a mystery, but they were nonetheless.

"I'm trying to go home, Thor." Peter managed to muster out while taking another step.

"But it seems you are in a great deal of pain. Would not it be wiser to stay here and rest?" Peter would roll his eyes if it were anyone but Thor. Thor always got a pass because he was just so damn endearing and unassuming.

"It would be wiser." Cap's voice was stern. He did not like this one bit and showed his concern by having a wheelchair ready if Peter were to need it. Not that there weren't a handful of superheroes fully capable of carrying the lightweight teenager standing in the hall. "But just like everyone else on this team, he's too stubborn to let it go and stay in bed."

"Can't let it go, Cap. I've got a date with a lady. You can understand that, right?" It was a low blow but he needed the leader to see that he had to do this. A small part of him wanted Cap's approval. Steve sighed lightly and nodded. Yes, he could understand that. He didn't like it one bit, but he could understand.

"You aren't the best patient either there, Spangles." Tony pointed out. "One day in the hospital and you're climbing the walls just like the rest of us."

"Exactly! One day! Peter hasn't been here a solid twelve hours."

"Two points for ya, Steve. One, rules are rules. If he doesn't make it to the door, he goes back no question. And two, you've completed the Challenge before." Clint piped up with a smirk.

"I was in better shape than he is now," Steve argued back.

"Awww cut him some slack. I was starting to worry that we had recruited the wrong vigilante. Six months with us and this is the first time he's tried one. It's a milestone! It's like he's going off to his first day of school or something." Peter snorted at Hawkeye's logic.

The room was silent for a moment, until Thor broke the spell. "I'm afraid I still do not understand."

"Thor ol' buddy, ol' pal, let me explain The Challenge to you." Clint threw an arm around the big guy's shoulders. "You see when one wants to leave the hospital wing, he or she can do it one of three ways. The first way is in a body bag, which no one wants. The second is after getting medical clearance, which can sometimes take too long. And the third is by completing The Challenge…" He went on to explain the rules to the Asgardian who listened like a child being told a bedtime story.

In the meantime, Peter slowly inched his way toward the door. He was so close, maybe a foot away. With one final burst of energy, he closed the gap and grasped the door knob holding onto it like a lifeline. It took a minute for him to realize that the only sound in the room was his raspy breathing. He turned to see all eyes on him. They wouldn't stop him from leaving but the expressions on their faces spoke volumes. Deciding that he was done being stubborn, Peter turned to Cap and said, "I think I'm ready for that wheelchair now." Reacting instantly, Steve was at his side and gently but firmly guided him into the seat. "Who knew walking down a hallway could take so much out of you?" Stupid question, really, because they all knew.

"It's still pretty early in the afternoon. You have plenty of time to rest up before dinner. Someone will take you home. You may be able to leave but that still doesn't mean you can swing home." Bruce took pity on him and hooked up the IV again.

"I'll have Happy drop you off." Tony chimed in. "It's the least I can do for being such a slave driver of a boss."

A/N 2: Constructive criticism and feedback are always appreciated Stay tuned for the next chapter!