Peter walked into Evan's room and was again transported back to when she had climbed through his bedroom window, begging him to help her. Her right eye was swollen shut and her left arm was in a cast. He could see that her ribs had been wrapped and multiple bruises colored her skin black and purple. She looked so fragile lying there and it made Peter forget that she could take on men double her size without even breaking a sweat.
"Evan?" His voice was meager but cut through the silence of the room. He could see her eyes moving behind her eyelids, fighting the sleep that she so desperately needed. He felt a twinge of guilt for waking her up but felt the overwhelming urge to see her awake and talking. He needed tangible proof that she was okay. Her eyes slowly opened, well the one that could, and met his. Her expression suddenly became panicked, not understanding where she was or what had happened.
"Pete?" Her voice was barely audible and scratchy from lack of use. She looked around the room wildly, trying to discern where she was.
"Am I in a hospital? You let them take me to a hospital?" Her voice raised as panic set in and started struggling against her injuries to get out as fast as possible.
"No, no, no. You're not in a hospital. You're at the Avengers compound. I told them no hospitals." She relaxed at that and let her head drop back into the pillow. Her dark hair was spread out behind her like a halo.
"What happened? I remember falling… and not much after that. Snippets." She quickly glanced at Peter, hoping he would fill her in on why she was confined to this bed. He sighed heavily, not sure what to say. He wasn't sure if he could relive it.
"Well… you went after Cap's plane and Mr. Stark followed you. And so did the guy with the wings." Evan nodded. She remembered that much.
"He was aiming at you. To… you know… kill." He sighed and ran a shaky hand through his hair.
"They realized I was a kid, and you were too. But it was too late he had already aimed. Luckily, he moved his arm at the last second so you aren't dead." He tried to laugh but it got caught in his throat so all that came out was a pained chuckle.
"But the missile, or whatever it was, tore through your wing and must have knocked you out. You just went limp." He swallowed hard and tried not to think about the terror that had enveloped him as he watched her body fall to the ground.
"Mr. Stark went after you, but he wasn't quick enough. He must have deployed some sort of armor over you though because it's a miracle the fall didn't kill you." He looked up at her watching his words sink in. He saw as she thought them over; she escaped from death.
"Can I see my charts?" Her voice was hard and Peter knew that she was trying to show him that death didn't scare her, but Peter knew it did. He wordlessly handed her the clipboard sitting on the table next to him. She flipped through the pages detailing her injuries. Her face grew darker as she moved through the pages.
"Jesus. I didn't even know someone could break this many bones." There was no humor in her voice and anyone else but Pete wouldn't be unable to detect the hint of anxiety in her voice.
He didn't know what to say and just nodded quietly. He was scared if he opened his mouth an endless stream of fear would come out.
"How long is the recovery?" Her voice was even harder this time and the question almost made Peter groan out loud. He knew where this was going and he wasn't looking forward to having this fight right now.
"As long as it takes. And then some." For once today, his voice was steady. He wasn't going to let her win this fight.
"Just tell me the estimate. And factor in our accelerated healing. I mean, most of these injuries have already healed." She wasn't asking, she was telling, and Peter could see the fight building in her eyes. She would never allow herself to lay in this bed while she knew there was still a war going on. But he wasn't going to let her get this close to death ever again.
"Doesn't matter. You aren't leaving this compound until you're healed. And I mean completely healed. Not just strong enough to walk." Peter's voice stayed strong even though he could see the anger building in her expression as he spoke.
"You can't keep me here." She spoke like it was a challenge and it would have been laughable, her challenging him to a fight while she was confined to a hospital bed if the situation hadn't been so serious.
"Normally, no. But I'm pretty sure I can take you right now." He said with a small smile, trying to alleviate the tension.
"Peter," his heart dropped. She never called him Peter. It was always Pete, or spider-boy, or some equally stupid nickname.
"I'm not just going to sit here while there's still work to be done. Plus someone needs to take care of my dad-" Her voice raised and she winced and rubbed her ribs painfully. She took a deep breath and maybe the heavy drugs she was on concealed it earlier, but she finally felt a bit of the pain that was scattered across her body.
"Let someone else do it." Peter's voice evenly matched hers, fueled by fear.
"Peter, please. I can't just sit here, I don't know what to do with myself. I don't know how to distract myself… I don't… my dad..." Her voice was cut short by a sob and Peter's heart lunged into his throat as he saw tears start to well in her eyes.
"Hey, hey, hey. It's okay. You're okay." He scrambled to her side, crouching by her bed and grabbing her shaky hand.
"I know. I know. But, Pete, I blew it. I kept telling myself to get back up. Just get back up! But I couldn't. I couldn't stand, I couldn't see, I just saw Mr. Stark's face and then yours. And you were crying. And I knew then that that was it. I thought that was it." She was becoming increasingly more panicked and the beeping from the heart monitor that was once steady was now increasing in speed.
"But you got back up. That wasn't it. You're gonna be fine, I swear. I'm gonna protect you." The words were very uncharacteristic leaving Peter's mouth and Evan felt heat rise to her cheeks, embarrassed that she now needed protection. Suddenly the shame of her actions flooded back to her. God, she had been so stupid. Although Peter's words were supposed to comfort her they only made her cry harder, which only elevated her pain and her embarrassment.
"Evan, no no, no. It's okay, it's okay." Peter's face turned red now too, worried he had said the wrong thing. Evan buried her head in her hands, not wanting him to see her cry. Her heart rate continued to accelerate and suddenly, Tony burst through the doors, his face stricken with panic.
"Kid, what's wrong? She okay?" He rushed to the monitor, checking the numbers, and then to Evan's bedside, trying to understand what was wrong. Peter, again at a loss for words, only shrugged his shoulders meekly.
"Evan?" He asked, quietly. His voice was too soft to come from such a brash man.
Upon hearing Tony's voice she only cried harder again, embarrassed that someone else had to see her like this. She tried to control herself but the emotion wouldn't stop. It was overwhelming in the way that a tidal wave was overwhelming. She tried to swim, to get her bearings, but once she made it to the surface another wave just knocked her down deeper.
"Hey, Kid, there's no need for this, it's just me." He sat down on the edge of her bed and continued to try to talk softly, understanding the panic that was coursing through her body. He had felt it more times than he could count. She just shook her head no and skunk down deeper into the pillows. Peter stood by nervously, completely out of his depth, wanting desperately for her to stop crying.
"I was so stupid! What was I thinking?" The outburst came suddenly and the two men jumped back in surprise. She had taken her hands away to reveal a face that was red, puffy, and covered in tears. She was in hysterics. Tony almost laughed, seeing a girl always so put together brought to this.
"Kid, you weren't stupid, I was the one telling you to take the shot." He spoke in a level tone, thinking only of logic, the only way he knew how to think. He hoped that this would make sense to the girl lying in front of him. He wanted her to understand that no matter what anyone told her or what she believed, it wasn't her fault. She wasn't going to listen, though. She had always been the first one to blame herself and the last one to give up the blame. Why had she thought that she was strong enough to go after the Quinjet? She would never be strong enough.
"I was sure I could make it. I thought I was stronger… I thought I could handle it…" Her voice trailed off and she took in a shuddering breath, again wincing in pain. Peter looked like he was going to be sick. He had never seen her like this. It was as though all of her insecurities, all of her scars, were being shown at once. He didn't know what to say. She had always been the one comforting him. She had always been the confident one.
"You're just a kid, Evan. You did better than anyone expected." Tony glanced at Peter with a panicked look on his face. It appeared that he knew how to deal with this about as much as Peter did.
"That's just it! I don't want to be treated like a kid. I want to prove myself. I wanted to prove that I could do it. That I could be strong, that I could be good-" Her breathing was getting faster and faster, almost to the point of hyperventilating and all she could think about was how badly she had messed up. She hadn't been strong enough.
"Evan. No one could have done that. You were the only one willing to try. You were strong, I promise, kid." Tony sat on the edge of her bed, desperate to stop this girl's crying. His heart broke for her. After everything she had been through, all she wanted to do was be strong enough to protect everyone. But no one was strong enough to do that, Tony knew too well.
"Now, because I couldn't just fucking do what I was told, we lost. We lost." Suddenly the panic that was gripping her chest was no longer manageable. Her head felt as though it was going to split in two, the room was tilting at all angles and her breathing had begun to come out in quick gasping breaths. She felt like a fish who had been hooked.
"Evan, it wasn't your fault-" Peter moved towards her again, bringing his hand over hers.
"Stop saying that, goddamnit!" She jerked her hand away and as she watched her anger wash over him she saw the hurt that ran through his body.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I just… I can't breathe. I can't-" She brought her hands to her throat as though she was clawing for air and suddenly her terrified eyes turned to Tony.
"Just keep your eyes on me, Evan. Just keep them trained on me. Now breathe with my heartbeat." He gently moved one of her hands over his heart and saw her shoulder drop a bit as some of the tension released.
"See? I do have a heart." He smiled at her and she gave a thin watery smile back, letting the relief of a joke wash over her.
"Now follow my breathing, look. In-" He paused as he watched her attempt to take a breath in, but still it was interrupted by spasmodic intakes of breath, uncontrollable to Evan.
"Out. In time with my heartbeat." He continued this until she was able to breathe on her own, but still, she kept her hand on his heart. She saw it as a tether of sorts. Something to hold on to.
"Evan. You did absolutely everything right. You are one of the bravest kids I've ever met, even if you are quickly becoming a reason for my rapidly greying hair. I mean, for Christ's sake, you were up against a goddamn super soldier and a military assassin and you're what, twelve? That's more than most can say. So don't doubt yourself. Trust me, that's one of the worst things you can do." Tony ran a hand through his hair and sighed deeply.
"As for your suit, I'm modifying both you and Pete's here to make sure that little stunt you pulled never happens again. Almost gave me a heart attack." He stood up and let her hand drop from his heart. Suddenly he was overcome by how weak she looked in the hospital bed, engulfed by a white gown made for an adult. He turned away quickly and strode out of the room, thankful he had managed to keep his heartbeat steady even though all he had wanted to do was throw up. Peter was right. He was the one that had called the pair out here. If she had died… it would have been on his hands, no question. Hell, he had encouraged her to go after him. He had done what he had always hated about Cap. He had turned this crusade into something personal and he had forced everyone fighting alongside him to do the same. It was no longer about the Sokovia accords, it was about his personal vendetta. These kids didn't know any better. He had abused their image of him and used it for his own personal gain. Jesus.
He was standing in the hallway with his hand over his face. He felt his heart rate increase the more he thought about what he had done. God, what would Pepper say? Probably everything he had already said to himself; probably something worse. He took his hand away from his face and peered into the hospital room. The kids were smiling. They were smiling. He could hear Peter from here recounting his highlights from the fight and Evan was laughing. He didn't know how these kids could do the things they could: fight the way they fought and almost die and then turn around and laugh about it. Some part of him was grateful for their resilience. At least he hadn't caused them too much damage. He still knew what he did was inexcusable, though.
