Part 3: Alert

Waking up was hard, Peter thought when he tried to open his eyes for the first time. The outside world was foggy, and unclear. All he could make out was the white light that was more than happy to blind his retinas. A muffled groaned made its way up his throat, around something that was very much starting to choke him. In automatic response, his hand reaches up to pull the obstruction out.

"Don't do that," A deep, exhausted, voice muttered grasping his wrist. A flair of pain jolts through it, but his senses don't go off. Blearily, brown eyes glance towards the familiar face. His mind tried to place the face with a name, but he was coming up blank. Instead, he let out a wheezing whine, allowing his eyes to wander back up to the bright light. If anything, he knew what it was.

Patiently, both parties waited for the younger's vision to clear, but when Peter's eyes began to flutter closed again, the elder sighed.

It was brief, but it was all Tony needed. He just needed to see an awareness inside the brunette eyes; needed to know that he would officially wake up and be as similar to the Peter that he knew. There was a recognition, but no proper recall of the face Peter was seeing. Friday had scanned the boy as quickly as he had awoken.

"How is he now Fri?" Tony was leaned over the small body on the bed. A noted gurgle escaped from the boys chest as inhaled.

"He's choking on the intubation tube...sir." Friday hummed from Tony's headset.

Had anyone been there, they would have denied the quick drainage of blood from Tony's face. They wouldn't tell anyone that the man had slightly paniced and slammed his finger time and again against the red call button. And they would have been paid nicely for their silence.

The second time Peter woke up, the light was far brighter than he remembered, but the scratchy and blocked feeling in his throat was gone. There was no mild panic, and no softness of the pain reliever that he was sure filled his system. Lucky for him, however, there was a warm hand that grounded him in reality instead of letting him float back into the abyss.

"I'm glad to see you're awake," A voice hummed from beside the young boy. It was a nurse with short brunette hair, and soft green eyes. Something about the softness in her face reminded him heavily of Aunt May. Peter groaned, his arm shooting out to level himself as he tried to sit up. "Don't." The Nurse was quick to push him back to the bed with a soft but firm hand. "You shouldn't move. You could aggrivate your injuries."

"May," Peter's voice was a soft wheeze that seemed to break through the silence of the hospital room. "Where's..."

"She's resting in another room. Do you want to see her?" The nurse pursed her lips softly. "I can get her for you." Peter simply nodded, his head falling forward and barely making it back into the upright position.

"Alright sweety," The nurse—Peter really needed to get her name—hummed as she bounced on the balls of her feet. "I'll go get her. She'll be really excited." With that, the young lady turned and rushed out of the room.

Peter allowed his head to fall back into the pillows as an ache began to form just below his chest. It started off as a soft bearable pain, but the longer the nurse was gone the more attention Peter found himself paying to it, and less attention to the hand that still kept his prisoner. His mind wondered in circles that even Peter couldn't keep up with.

When the nurse returned, May was beside her, her fingers wringing anxiously in front.

"Peter!" She chirped rushing over to her nephew quickly. It had never been so good for her to see the chocolate brown eyes so wide. "Oh my baby!" She whispered rubbing his hair away from his forehead. And though Peter might not have seen them, he could hear the tears in her voice; it was enough to elicit his own set of tears.

"May," He croaked lightly. His voice was still raw, and the light pain in his lower back peaked just a bit; a wheeze escaped from him before he could properly control it. "Hurts," He whispered allowing his eyes to slip closed as another spike ran up his spine. This time, his heart monitor picked up on it; the machine sped up with its incessant beeping.

"Oh baby," May whimpered as she continued her soothing minstrations. "Can he have some pain medication?" She turned to look at the nurse who was already getting a syringe ready.

"It'll put him back to sleep... But at least we know he'll wake up." The nurse smiled warmly as she inserted the blunt tip into the soft port of his I.V.

Peter watched May softly the enter time. Or, at least, until her face began to swirl and sway, and mix in with a grogginess that overtook his mind as the pain in his back numbed. But he would wake up again. He would be able to see his aunt without the pain that throbbed.

"Go to sleep Peter," May placed a soft kiss on his forehead. "We'll be here when you wake up." Her thumb traced his cheek just under his eye. It was soft and soothing, and quickly helped him to sleep.

The third, and final, time Peter woke up, it was to the aroma of deliciously fried chicken and some kind of spice that he couldn't describe. His stomach had alerted the group to his consciousness before he even had the chance to open his eyes.

"Hey underroos," Tony's voice broke through the darkness as Peter forced his eyes apart. This time, there was no sharp pains; only the dull ache of being in the same position for a long period of time. "You hungry?"

"Always," Peter wheezed as he tried to force himself into a sitting position. Tony simply placed his hand on the kid's shoulder, and eased him up with the bed instead. "What did you bring? It smells amazing."

"Nothing that the doctor will let you eat, so you'll just have to hurry." Tony hummed as he drug the small tray table to rest over Peter's abdomen. "How you feeling? Any pain? Do you need me to get the nurse?" Peter simply shook his head reaching quickly for the food. It brought a smile to the older man's face. "Well, alright. Hurry before your Aunt May gets back. Or she'll kill me, and then that'll be the last of non-hospital food you get for a long time."

Right. Peter flinched a bit glacning around the room. He was in the hospital because of the attack. Doc Ock had come out of nowhere; had figured out who Spider-Man was beneath the mask. Hell, the man had made to attack Ned and the entirety of Midtown High while being filmed by the loacl media.

"How bad was it?" Peter found himself questioning before he could think his questions through. There was a lot he wanted to know, but he had to know how bad his injuries were first.

"Kid," Tony pursed his lips as worry lines creased his brow. "I don't..." He sighed and brushed his hand over his face as he leaned forward. "You almost died. Hell, I was pretty sure we were going to lose you." His voice peaked and cracked at the end. "But you didn't." He shuddered, reminding himself; grounding himself to this reality. "And I'm so glad...but you can't...You won't be able to..."

"Relax, Mr. Stark," A new voice cut in as a doctor wearing a white coat stepped into the room. "Perhaps I should take over from here, before you give yourself an anuerism." A confident smirk lined the man's lips as he checked his patient's vitals. "Hello Peter. How nice to finally see you awake. I'm Doctor Rutherford. How are you feeling?" He purposely ignored the chicken platter that the boy was halfway to shoving in his mouth—instead sending a light glare at the billionaire. But it was hard to reprimand the man after seeing the way he cared.

"Hungry," Peter admitted, placing the chicken back on the plate and pushing it away as if he were innocent.

"That's good," Rutherford hummed lightly as he tapped at the glass vial attached to his bag of saline. "Now, I understand you're...different." He nodded lightly as he stepped back making a note on the pad in his pocket. "So I want to run a few tests while you're awake. Specifically an MRI on your spine. When you first arrived, you weren't responding to any touch below your hips. But, if your other injuries are anything to go by, I think you'll be relatively fine. Everything else has healed rather quickly, and precisely with a little help."

"You never mentioned a spinal injury," Tony frowned glancing at the doctor from his position in the chair. "That's kind of important Doc."

"Relax, Mr. Stark. There were other things to worry about at the time. If there is a spinal injury, the MRI will show us how bad it is, and whether the effects will be long lasting or not." Rutherford hummed confidently. "It wasn't exactly a life threatening injury."

"What about Ned?" Peter blurted feeling a bit overwhelmed with his own possible injuries. He had recalled Ned being next to him when the car had slammed into him and pinned him to the building. "How is he? Was anyone else hurt?" Shit, Flash was there, and Michelle. There were so many kids who had probably found out who he was. And it was because of that little fact that they had possibly gotten hurt.

"Relax kid," Tony smiled cupping Peter's hand softly. "Ned only had a bit of shock, and everyone else got out with scratches basically. Lucky, or unluckily for you, Otto was pretty focused on Peter Parker. He thinks you know Spider-Man."

"Natasha interrogated him," A third voice broke in. Peter's face jerked up to meet the bright blue eyes of Captain. Freaking. America. Except he was dressed in his typical red white and blue garb.

"Holy crap," Peter squeaked staring at Steve Rogers. Had he met the man before? Yes. Did he still get stupid butterflies in his stomach everytime he laid eyes on the man? Hell yes. But the same could be said for Mr. Stark as well. What was life, when his heroes were both in the same room as him just to make sure he's okay.

"Hey," Tony pouted as if insulted. "Really? Steve, get out." Steve chuckled softly shaking his head as he collapsed into the second chair in the room. Dr. Rutherford sighed heavily, as he continued his examination.

"Alright, Mr. Parker. I just need you to tell me if you feel this okay?" The doctor made a small hand gesture just under the blanket. But Peter hadn't said anything. Instead he simply stared at the doctor as if waiting for him to do something. Rutherford simply pulled his hand from the blanket, nodding quietly to himself, and jotted something down in the pad. "I'll go schedule that MRI for you. Try not to get him over excited gentleman. And please finish that food before your Aunt sees it. Mr. Stark is currently on thin ice with her."

Peter nodded quickly, slightly confused by everything that was happening. Yet, he revelled in the feeling of just being awake.

"How is everyone? How's school?" Peter mumbled as he grasped a piece of chicken and shoved it into his mouth.

"Your school is being rebuilt, a few of the halls are closed off, but everyone made it out okay." Steve smiled softly as Peter licked crumbs and grease fom his thumb.

"Ned and Michelle said they would come see you after school." Tony buzzed placing another chicken tender on the kid's plate. He himself had never been privvy to the grease, but obviously the teen was loving it. "And so's that Flash kid I think. He was pretty surprised."

"Flash?!" Peter squeaked staring at the other brunette in horror. How had Flash found out? He was never supposed to know that Peter could kick his ass. It was a trump card that the kid had plans for.

"Yeah," Tony nodded shrugging his shoulders. "He was with Ned and the others when we were pulling you out from the car. He had to be told when suddenly all of the avengers were there for some tween."

Peter groaned heavily, allowing hiself to sink back into the pillows. It was a lot to take in; between waking up, the prospect of something wrong with his back, and now Flash knows that he's a spider themed vigilante? It was all turning out to be too much.

"It's okay," Tony frowned, his hand reaching out to grasp the small hand of his 'intern'. "He signed an NDA, and if he even thinks of uttering a word of who you are...well I've got my lawyer's monitoring all of his social media pages." Peter let out a sigh of relief. Of course Mr. Stark would have everything under control. The man was always one step ahead of the game.

By noon, Peter was thoroughly exhausted. Aunt May hadn't left his side, and the nurses had been in several times to check on him and make sure he was okay. He had been assured several times that it was okay if he took a nap. Everyone would be there by the time he woke up. But he didn't want to sleep anymore. By his understanding, he had done plenty of that over the past week or so. No one had told him officially how long he had been out. Besides, he didn't want to miss a moment with his Aunt.

"May," He squeezed her hand softly, snapping her attention away from the soap opera that was playing on the tv. She glanced as his tear filled brown eyes and tugged him into a tight hug. "I'm sorry," He whispered into her shoulder. She simply shushed him and brushed his hair away from his face.

This time, the sleep he fell into was a light one. He wasn't induced by drugs, and his stomach was full. It was a normal sleep; one he hadn't realized how much he missed. It was full of dreams and light; not the shaded darkness that had silenced his mind.

"Peter!" Ned barked as he rushed into the room with Michelle and, unbelievably, Flash in tow. "How are you feeling man?" Ned flunked into the other guest chair.

"Starved, actually." Peter smiled tiredly. "The doctor keeps fussing Mr. Stark when he brings me food from the cafeteria."

"That's because that's not from the hospital cafeteria," Aunt May chastised amused.

"Poor Peter," Ned gaped as if it was the worst imaginable fate. Peter certainly couldn't blame him. He had tried to stomach the hospital food after all. But no matter how much ketchup and salt and pepper he drowed it in, the food still tasted like card board. It was pretty impressive actually.

"Glad you're okay, Parker." A timid voice whispered from the corner of the room. All eyes turned to Flash, who made sure to shrink in on himself. He was still in shock about the whole 'Peter Parker is Spider-Man' ordeal. And after watching the teenager take on one of his nemesis, he certainly didn't want to be the center of his malice.

"Thanks Flash," Peter smiled politely. His eyes flitted over to Ned and Michelle who simply shruged in response. "You can uh...sit down if you'd like?"

"Not in my chair!" Another voice added in—from the ceiling. Peter felt his face deadpan, before he glared up at the vent that now doubt held one certain avenger that was always good for comedic relief.

"Clint," Peter groaned softly, bringing his hand up to rub his face. "What are you doing in the vents?" All color drained from Flash's face as Hawkeye himself dropped down from the small vent. How in the world the man had managed to squirm his way inside was certainly beyond any imaginative capability that the teen held.

"Tony wanted me to keep check on you. Gave me specific instructions not to get in the way," Clint shrugged as if this was an every day occurrence. Which, unbeknownst to Flash and Michelle, it was. "What's more out of the way than the ceiling?"

"We're not in the tower though," Peter sighed shaking his head. "You can't make a nest in the vents. It's just creepy, and unhealthy."

"Holy crap," Flash squeaked from his spot. Michelle simply jammed her elbow into the boy's side.

"How about I go get you some uh...some food?" Clint muttered glancing at the three extra teenagers that littered the room. "From like..."

"From the cafeteria. And I'll join you," May smiled tightly as she jumped from her spot on the chair. "Someone has to make sure that you don't decide on another impromptu trip to Hooter's. I'm not having the nurse rip me a new one because you can't seem to follow orders." Clint paled a bit at the quiet threat that belayed such a sweet tone.

"Right. Cafeteria." Clint whispered being led out of the room.

Once the door shut, all eyes turned to the blonde boy who still cowered in the corner.

"I guess we should talk," Peter sighed softly brushing his hand over his face. Stress etched itself into every facet of his being. His shoulders tensed as he thought of the best way to explain the situation.

"You're Spider-Man." Flash whispered quietly. "You could have seriously kicked my ass, and you never did."

"Er..." Peter worried his bottom lip between his teeth. It wasn't that Flash was wrong. On the contrary, the boy was absolutely right. "Well...yes. But you can't tell anyone. I mean absolutely no one."

"I'll make sure he doesn't." Michelle sighed shooting a glare at her team member. "After all," She crossed her arms shooting a glare at the brunette on the hospital bed. "I'm the most responsible out of all of us." Peter flinched away glancing down at his blanket guiltily. Because, of course, Michelle was right. She knew when to keep her mouth shut, and how to keep other's mouths shut when it mattered most. As a part of the 'man in the chair' team, she was an important aspect. She kept them in line when the possibility of messing up was higher than their regular stakes.

"What!?" Flash squeaked as he glanced towards the dark curls that decorated the girls face.

"Just as I said Flash," Michelle crossed her arms shooting a glare at the male. "You know, and now you're stuck with us."

"Exactly!" Ned burst in a defiant smirk gracing his features. He had several ideas that he could put to good use for the boy that had given them hell in school. "We're his guys in the chair. We keep an eye on his surroundings when he's busy with the bad guys. Karen keeps us updated on his vitals, and we break in and call Mr. Stark if things get too out of hand."

"Like...like what happened at school?" Flash felt the color draining from his face as he thought of what all Spider-Man came face to face with on a daily basis.

"Exactly." Ned nodded turning his whole body to glance at the door as the doctor made his way in.

"Mr. Parker," Rutherford sighed softly. "I've got some good news, and some bad news."