14

All things considered, Peter could have felt a lot worse.

Somehow, that wasn't very comforting.

According to the SHIELD agents on the Helicarrier, he had broken his collarbone, his nose, three ribs, and his left arm in the explosion. The suit had been burned and torn in a couple of places, leaving tiny electrical threads poking out at the edges, but the cuts and burns on his skin underneath had already healed. Actually, his healing ability had been kicked up several notches, thanks to sleep and IV fluids SHIELD had given him on the ride over. He wasn't even wearing a cast on his arm, which was a bit of a relief.

Peter glanced up. He was standing in an elevator of the SHIELD hospital that Tony had been taken to, waiting impatiently for the elevator to reach Tony's floor. There was a SHIELD agent standing behind him, because of "standard protocol." Of course.

It had taken Peter fifteen long minutes to convince the agents on the Helicarrier that he was fine, he could walk on his own, no he wasn't dizzy, his head felt fine.

He just had to see Tony.

Room 506. Fifth floor – take a left out the elevator.

Peter repeated the directions they had given him in his head, absentmindedly tapping one finger against his arm.

The elevator gave a soft automated ping, and Peter looked up to see the silvery doors sliding smoothly open. Finally! He went left, only vaguely aware of the SHIELD agent trailing a few paces behind.

Agent Hill was standing outside Room 506.

"Oh." Peter abruptly stopped, his shoes squeaking against the tile. "Uh, hey."

She glanced over at him. There was a dark red bruise trailing down the right side of her jaw and a laceration along her cheekbone, both evidence of the explosion. To Peter's surprise, she smiled. "Peter."

He gave an awkward, closed-mouth smile, absentmindedly fiddling with one of his webshooters.

Agent Hill tilted her head up at him. "How you holding up?"

Peter was tired, he ached all over, and he wanted to go home.

"I'm good," he heard himself say.

"Hm." Hill gave him a half-grin. "Heard that one before."

Peter pointed to the door she stood beside. "That's, um –" He gestured to the door. Even though the door was glass, it was frosted, and he couldn't see anything inside. "Is Mister Stark in there?"

"Tony's okay," Hill said, answering the question Peter hadn't asked. She glanced over her shoulder at the door as if she could see straight through it. "Woke up about a half hour ago. Nick's in with him right now."

It took Peter a second to catch the reference. Nick. As in, Nick Fury. Director Nick Fury. Head of SHIELD. The familiarity of the name made him study Hill a little closer.

"So you're his, uh. . . ." Peter gestured to her, trying to think of the right word. The only term coming to his mind was 'second-in-command', but somehow that didn't seem right.

"Trusted employee," Hill finished for him, giving a wry smile.

Peter felt himself relax a little, and he smiled back.

Suddenly, the door opened, and Nick Fury stepped out into the hallway. Without meaning to, Peter automatically took a step back.

Fury glanced at him. "Mister Parker," he said. "You're looking better than the rest of us already."

"Hey, man," Peter said, his voice squeaking.

"We didn't get the chance to formally meet." The Director offered his hand. "Nick Fury."

It was one thing to see a person in a dark hallway in a building that was about to explode, but it was another to officially meet them. Because face-to-face with the head of SHIELD, Peter now realized that Fury seemed much, much taller in person.

"S-sir," he finally managed. He quickly took Fury's hand and shook it, trying in vain to remember what May had told him about what made a good handshake. "Hey. Um, P-Peter. Parker."

"The Spider-Man, right?" Fury said. When Peter looked surprised, he continued, "Oh, you're a hard one to ignore. You've made the news a couple times. Popped up on our radar more than once."

"R-really? Well, um. . . thank you, it's just, I never thought I would –" Peter gestured to him. "Ever. . . meet you. Wow."

Fury gave him a good-natured smirk. "Take it all in, kid," he said. "The eyepatch, the cool leather jacket –"

"The abounding humility," Hill added wryly.

Peter swallowed and spoke quickly before he lost his nerve. "So, how – how's Tony?"

"Banged up," Fury said. He shrugged one shoulder. "No worse off than the rest of us. Already sick of being cooped up here."

"We've only been here two hours," Hill said, sounding partly amused.

Fury raised an eyebrow, as if saying, I know. He paused and addressed Peter. "He wants to see you."

To Peter's surprise, Tony was standing up, right beside the bed he probably should have been lying down in. He was focusing on a phone in his hand, but as Peter walked in, he glanced up.

Peter couldn't help but wince. Tony looked awful. A dark purple bruise ringed his right eye, and tiny pieces of white medical tape had been affixed over various cuts on his face.

"Been worse," Tony said as a greeting, noting Peter's expression. He flipped the phone around in his hands before setting it facedown on the bedside table.

Peter cleared his throat. "Mister Stark, are you –"

"Ah-ah." Tony held up a finger. "I'm just gonna stop you right there. I'll talk, then you talk. Deal?"

He went on without waiting for an answer. "First." His voice came gentler than usual. "You alright?"

"Um," Peter said, blinking in surprise. "Yeah. Uh, yeah, actually, I'm fine."

"Clearly, since you're just as fresh-faced as ever." Tony sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose with his thumb. "Okay, question two: What the hell were you thinking?"

Peter started to explain. "I just wanted to –"

Tony raised his finger again. "That was rhetorical. I'm not finished. You were told by at least two people to get out of the Toy Box, go in the Helicarrier, and stay out of the way. Instead, you knocked out a SHIELD agent – which, by the way, good job on that – sneaked away, and broke back into the place you had just escaped from."

Peter looked away, clenching his jaw.

Tony paused for a moment. "Okay, now you're a go. Spill. What was the thought process here?"

"I didn't – I don't know," Peter muttered.

"Eyes up here, kiddo," Tony said, but his voice had lost its sharp parental edge. His dark brown eyes narrowed slightly, studying Peter's face. "What, going into an exploding building seemed seemed like a good idea? At the time?"

"I –" Peter hesitated, knowing exactly how his words were going to sound. "I – heal faster. I mean, if anything happened, you know? I could –"

Tony's eyebrows raised. "Protection? That's what this was?" He tilted his head up to face the ceiling, as if praying for patience, and spoke slowly. "You are not a human shield, Mister Parker."

"I know. I know that, I just –" Peter gritted his teeth and spoke quickly. "I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

"Alright, tone down the sentiment there. This isn't a Hallmark movie." With a little sigh, Tony sat down on the bed. "Junior, you're going to account for every new gray hair, I swear it," he muttered.

"Are you okay?" Peter asked.

"I'm nursing a bullet and a headache, but other than that, peachy." Tony glanced up, and his eyes met Peter's for a brief second. "Okay, third question –" He nodded at Peter. "Mark 19, that's the one you went with?"

Tony had somewhat swept over the question, but Peter was caught too off-guard to notice. "What, the suit?" He looked down at it. "Well. . . yeah," he said lightly, shrugging. "It seemed cool."

For the first time, Tony grinned. Actually, it was more like a smirk. "Retroreflective microfiber paneling. Good, huh? My idea. Okay, fine, not totally my idea, but I built it, so I get partial credit."

Peter couldn't help smiling a little. "Well, sure, it was cool, until it almost electrocuted me."

"Minor bug," Tony said with a shrug, then winced at the movement. "Just needed a little more calibration, couple more trial runs. . . might even be able to get it running in your suit."

"Uh, no, thanks, I'm good." Peter took a breath. "They got away, right?" he asked.

"What, HEL? Yeah. No trace, all that sort of thing." Tony stared straight ahead for a moment, lost in thought.

Peter nodded. "So. . . what now? What do we do?"

Tony looked back at him. "What do we do?" he repeated. "We lick our wounds. Regroup. Recover. Get you back home safe, and keep looking for them."

Peter elected to ignore the 'get home safe' part. "How do we find them?"

Tony's eyes suddenly narrowed. "You're not thinking what I think you are," he said. "Don't go out looking for these guys, you hear me? This is a SHIELD mess. Leave it to them to clean it up. If one more thing happens to you –"

"I won't. I won't, I swear," Peter said quickly.

Tony studied Peter's face for a long moment, as if he was looking for a lie. "Okay, good," he said finally. He motioned toward the door. "Now get outta here. Fury wants a debrief from you, and you wouldn't want to keep the big guy waiting, especially since you're unbearably polite."

Peter stepped backwards, towards the door. "I'm glad you're okay, Mister Stark," he said.

"Yep." Tony glanced out the window. "Me too."

It wasn't exactly a conventional response. Peter smiled and shook his head slightly as he turned for the door.

"Kid?"

One hand on the doorknob, Peter glanced back.

Tony nodded once. "You did good today."

Peter felt a smile creep over his face. "Yeah?"

"Don't get me wrong, running back in was definitely the wrong thing to do," Tony said.

Looking stung at the sudden criticism, Peter opened his mouth to defend himself. "I didn't –"

"Even if," Tony continued louder, cutting Peter off, "it probably saved my life."

Slowly, Peter closed his mouth.

"Okay, don't let that get to your head." Tony glanced out the window. "Bye, kid."

Tony watched Peter go, gently closing the door after himself.

That kid. So gentle with everything.

A pinging sound suddenly came from the bedside table. Letting his gaze linger on the door for a moment, Tony reached behind him to pick up his phone. "JARVIS? You got news for me?"

"Not entirely good news, I'm afraid."

"Well, what else is new," Tony said in a low tone. He finally focused on the phone in his hand, frowning down at the images onscreen.

"The scans you requested from the Toy Box site have been completed."

"What have you got?" He swiped upwards, and the images onscreen jumped into a hologram.

"The Casket has not been found anywhere among the rubble, sir. It appears that HEL has escaped with it."

.

.

A/N: I. Am. Floored. My dudes, we have made it to one hundred reviews. *falls over* I love you all, and I hope you enjoyed this chapter!

*sighs* Weeeeelllll, now for some less-happy news: The day after this chapter is posted, your humble author will be getting four of her teeth ripped out of her unsuspecting skull – uh, ahem, I mean, undergoing a simple wisdom teeth surgery. Gaaaaaah. As you can tell, I'm barely even nervous about it. XP So anyway, if you'd like to, kindly leave a review for me to read while I recover! I would love to read your feedback from the comfort of my bed while I survive on painkillers, Go-Gurt, and mashed potatoes.

Thanks to Guest, Shadow-wolf78, KHARAKI TAKAN, Lovely One (Guest), cargumentluv, and seireidoragon for your reviews! And as for all my silent readers out there, I hope you're enjoying the story too! Thank you for the silent support. :)