So, I thought I'd post this story in a new category. It's a little shorter than what I usually write, but I think I did a pretty good job on it, so I'm posting it.

Also, this story is named "Sacrifices" because I figure a superhero must sacrifice their life a lot, and because I sacrificed my sleep to stay up till two am just to write this.

(Warning; there are some swear words in this story, but not a lot. I refuse to make Peter swear himself.)

"Let me see it."

"N-No. I—I'm fine, Mr. Stark. I promise."

"Oh, come on, kid; I need to see if I gotta take you to the hospital. And besides," Tony said pointedly, as he cast a glance down at his protégé—his protégé and his responsibility, who was sitting on a bench with an ice pack held to his chest. "The last time you said you were fine, you fainted and could barely stand for more than two seconds—so, forgive me, if I don't exactly believe you."

Peter looked down at the ground, embarrassed, but didn't bother to hide the bitterness in his voice, as it still came out in a angry huff. "I had a headache," He stated, albeit still a being a bit quiet. That didn't matter though; his voice was loud enough for Tony to hear and respond, so he did.

"Uh-huh. Must've been some headache, if you couldn't even stand up straight, and were out for two days."

"What?! I—I was not!" Peter protested, his voice raising an octave.

"Alright. FRIDAY?" Tony questioned, as he stared up at the ceiling to illustrate the point he was making. "Could you please tell me what happened the last time Peter was here?"

"Mr. Stark!" Peter shrieked, though both ignored him. "That's not nece—"

"The last time Mr. Parker was here," FRIDAY answered, her voice sickeningly sweet. "He came to you at two in the afternoon, with a severe case of the stomach flu and a stab wound. His temperature was also worryingly elevated at 104.5 degrees, and the injury he received required immediate surgery. Would you like me to add more detail, Mr. Stark, sir, or will that be enough for now?"

"Nah, that's good, FRI. I think I've got this."

"As you wish, sir."

Seeing as his AI was now finished talking, Tony glanced back at the teenager across from him, who seemed to shrink under his gaze. The two were in the lab (or, well, Tony was. Peter just rushed in in a daze, half-conscious and his eyes a bit unfocused), projects abandoned, and were still trying to deal with the situation they were in. "Well?" Tony had then questioned, as he stared back down at he kid he had on his hands. "You still not gonna show me that thing, or tell me what's up, bud?"

Peter still seemed hesitant to give in, but was more inclined to do so than he was before. "Fine," He agreed, as he lowered the ice pack from his chest and moved to put it on the table nearby. "But, just... just don't freak out, alright?"

Tony blinked. 'Well,' He thought. 'That was reassuring.'

But, instead of saying that out loud, he just nodded, muttered a quiet "Please. It's my job to freak out, Pete," and helped the kid take off the suit once it loosened.

Once it did loosen, however, what he saw, he was not happy with. The suit was pooled near Peter's waist and most of it sat in his lap, since he was still sitting down, but that was not what mattered, or what caught his attention. What did, though, was the large gunshot wound sitting on the left side of the superhero's upper stomach, just below his heart and right near his ribs. The entire area surrounding it was covered in purple bruises and light swelling (meaning it was still fresh, oh my God...), but, closer towards it, the skin was painted a sick, pale grey, and even though the kid had a healing factor, it did not look like it would be fixing this.

"Fu—Duck," He muttered, eyes wide. From above him, he could see Peter smiling slightly (he always tried to stop himself from swearing in front of kid, but now did not seem like the time), but refrained from rolling his eyes (because how the kid found that funny, when he was sitting there with a bullet in his stomach, Tony had no idea and, really, did not want to have one anyway) and focused back on the matter at hand. Peter—May's kid, and his responsibility, for the time being—was bleeding. He felt like hyperventilating.

"What kinda shit you get into, kid?" He asked, not paying attention to the words he used, and instead paying attention to the wound. Taking a deep breath, he moved to poke and prod the area to examine it, but stopped short when Peter let a hiss slip through his lips.

"N-Nothing," He answered, honestly. "Just saved someone from a mugging. And, uh—" Accidentally letting a whimper escape him, due to the burning pain in the middle of his chest, Peter clenched his fists in a hope that'd stop it. "Could you please not—not touch it, Mr. Stark? That—That really hurts..."

"No kidding it does." Sighing softly, Tony had then stood up and gently pulled Peter with him, as he did, making the kid's suit pool at his ankles, instead of near his waist. Kicking it off the kid's feet as Peter stepped out of the loosened suit, Tony had then placed a hand on the teen's shoulder when he swayed, to help steady him. "Woah," He said, eyeing the boy carefully and with concern. "You feeling okay, kiddo?"

"Y-Yeah..." Peter mumbled in response. His eyes were still slightly unfocused and his complexion was way more pale than it was before, but at least he was still conscious. Tony could work with that, that was something he could work with. "S-Sorry. Just dizzy..."

"It's alright, no need to apologize." Instead of being mad or strict with the kid, Tony decided to be calm and collected, figuring the lecture and anger could come later. Besides, if he lectured Peter now, there was a chance he wouldn't even remember it, with how much of a pain he was in. "Let's just get you the med bay, okay? Can you do that for me, Peter?"

He figured using the kid's actual name might help ground him, too. If the kid was on the edge of unconsciousness, then he might as well try something to help keep him coherent.

"Y-Yeah." Peter nodded, despite the fact that his eyes were closed and it was a little slow. "I-I think I can do that..."

"Okay, good." Tony himself nodded, and took his hand off the kid's shoulder to balance the arm that was draped over his neck, in order to keep Peter on his feet. Then, grabbing the ice pack from off the table, he wrapped it in a rag and applied it to Peter's side, when the superhero let out another hiss at the sting and freezing feeling. "Now, I think we can deal with this here, so I'm gonna help you walk down to the med bay, alright? Just don't do anything but lean on me, Peter."

And, if any Stark Industries employees saw Tony Stark helping a teenager, in just his boxers, walk to the elevator... Well, they didn't say anything.

Reviews are appreciated, and prompts and/or requests are welcome. :)

~Star