Ch. 5- do i at least get a lollipop?

After the short but sweet tour of the R&D labs, the class made its way to the temporary dormitories. Their Bronze passes allowed easy access to each dorm, separated into boys and girls. Ned and Peter bunked together, Peter on top and Ned on bottom. By that point, the boys had started unpacking their bags into the niches that surrounded each bunk bed, making a huge mess of the formerly pristine room in mere minutes. The rest of the day was rather uneventful, as the tour guides hadn't planned anything for their first day. After gorging themselves on lunch, the team had nothing to do but sit in their rooms, talking and scrolling on their phones.

Peter was sitting on his bed when his head lurched, causing his cracked StarkPhone to drop to the covers with a light thump. His vision compounded, and he was seeing three of everything- he looked down, and he saw three- no, four- identical pools of blood quickly expanding on his sheets- his brain was cotton, and his veins ran with fire- his head was imploding and exploding simultaneously- it took everything in him not to scream out at the top of his lungs- his heartbeat was a drumbeat in his ears…

And he was suddenly in the bathroom, blood-smudged hands fumbling to lock the door, leaving rusty smears on the metal of the doorknob. He tremblingly unwrapped his wound, nearly passing out from the strong coppery scent as the pain nearly overpowered him. His whole world was fuzzy, and the blood steadily pumping out of the bullet hole only enforced the notion that he should call Tony. He picked up his phone that he had subconsciously grabbed from his sheets and pressed on the first contact under the D's. The phone rang four times before he picked up.

"Hey, kid, what's up?" Peter almost sobbed in relief at the sound of Tony's voice.

"Tony. I'm-"

"Are you okay? Pete?"

"No- I-I'm in the dorm- blood-"

And everything went black.

…

His eyes opened and immediately clamped shut again, instinctively shielding his retinas from the blinding white of the room. His head was throbbing in time with the rhythmic beeps that filled the room. He forced his eyes open and suppressed every urge to snap them shut again. He looked around the room groggily, his eyes stopping on the figure that was slumped in the chair next to his bed. He smiled as he recognized Tony, sitting in wait next to his hospital bed, evidently asleep. Wait- his hospital bed? He bolted upright, dislodging Tony's hand from his shoulder, causing the man to jolt awake in a shock.

"Pete? Kid, are you- oh, lord, Pete, calm down-" His hand clamped around Peter's, who was looking around, panicked, as he slowly came out of his dreamy trance, induced by the morphine that was steadily dripping from the IV attached to his arm.

"What the hell happened?" Peter asked as the beeping grew steadily faster.

"Let's start out with my questions. First of all, I'm very glad you're okay. You had me really fucking worried. Second off, never ever do that again. I might have to kill you if you die on me."

"Tony, I-"

"Me first. Bruce said that you've had this injury for at least two days. Two days! Care to explain?"

"I can-"

"Still my turn. How the hell did you manage to sneak this one past me? You could have died. You can't keep pretending like you're fine when you're bleeding out under my kitchen table!" Tony took a deep breath, his hand still clutching Peter's in a death grip. "Okay. Your turn."

"What happened? Everything was fine yesterday-"

"-it was most certainly not, seeing as you had the gunshot yesterday, too-"

"-and I was barely even bleeding!"

"Kid, I swear, if you try to downplay this injury one more time…"

"Sorry. What the fuck happened?"

"Answer my question first and maybe I'll tell you," Tony snapped back.

"Nothing-"

"Pete-"

"Sorry- It was just a simple mugging on patrol a couple of nights ago! Nothing big, the guy just shot me a couple times when I was swinging away!"

"God, kid, a couple of nights ago? Bruce said it was bad, but-"

"Since when was Bruce back?"

"Since I called him back to help save my kid's life, who was bleeding out on the floor of my own building!"

"Oh. Look, Tony, I'm really sorry- I didn't mean for this- for any of this-" Peter trailed off.

"I know, kid. I know. Fuck, I was so worried about you." He pulled Peter into a bear hug. Unbeknownst to both, each shed silent tears behind each other's backs.

Finally, they pulled away.

"Hey, Fri, would you mind calling Bruce in here?" Tony asked thickly.

"Sure, Boss. He's on his way."

"Thanks, Fri," both said together.

After a few minutes of comfortable silence, Dr. Banner entered the room, smiling as he saw Peter upright and awake.

"Good to have you back, Peter. How are you feeling?"

"Tired, but no pain." It was only a little lie.

"Good. We gave you some accelerated morphine to counteract your fast metabolism. It should be effective, but as we weren't sure exactly how fast you process those types of things, we used Steve's morphine. We believe you might need a stronger dosage if this happens again," Bruce said.

Peter and Tony shared a look, Peter's eyes meeting Tony's guiltily.

"Your wound, while bandaged, still had a loose bullet under the skin. The bullet eventually floated close enough to your femoral artery that it nicked the edge. That's what caused you to start bleeding out. If not for your healing factor, you would have been dead in seconds," Bruce finished.

"But- I thought I got all the bullets out?" Peter said, phrasing it more like a question. Tony mumbled something under his breath, leaning back in his chair and rubbing his hands over his eyes as if he had a headache. He probably did.

"This was a splintering bullet. Essentially, as soon as it enters the skin, it fractures into pieces to make it harder for the victim to remove it completely. It's very effective," Bruce explained.

"Yeah, we gathered that, Bruce," Tony muttered. "Kid, at this rate, I'll be gray by February."

"The good news is, now that the bullets are all gone, you're almost completely healed. You should be on your feet by tomorrow. For now, you should have a wheelchair, or at least a crutch, but you're free to leave and go to your own room if you so desire," Bruce continued, effectively ignoring Tony's snark.

"Yes, I'm ready to leave, thanks," Peter said, at the same time as Tony said, "I don't care what you say, kid, you're getting a wheelchair."

"A wheelchair? Tony, I hardly need a crutch!"

"You're getting a wheelchair."

"Tony…"

A/N:

thanks for tolerating my hiatus loves! writing ch. 6 right now I hope you all love it

wandamarie- omg four reviews? all for me? thank you! hope you like it

Dash. M- YES ily im doing it rn i hope you love it as much as i do

Guest- LITERALLY YEPPP you all read my mind this is being written rn love thank you for the sweet review

kadencrafter- me too, love, me too. hope you like it!

your sanity- thank you so much! I'm glad you like it! get geared up love

-queen