Prompt: Peter gets stuck in something

Peter leaned against the wall of the elevator, fingers drumming on his leg as he waited for Friday to take him up to Mr. Stark's lab. This was only his second trip to the tower to work in Mr. Stark's lab for his very newly real internship. The man had suggested it only a week after Peter had turned him down for a spot on the Avengers, which in itself had been a surprise, as Peter had been sure that he'd offended him or failed some kind of test after all...but a month ago, Happy had picked him up from school and brought him to the tower, which Mr. Stark had bought back for reasons Peter hadn't known until later.

The rogue Avengers were coming back.

He'd given Peter an overview when he'd been in the lab last time, letting him know that things were in the works with the Rogue Avengers, and that he was working on getting the team back together. Then he'd changed the subject to Peter's school and how that was going and Peter hadn't dared to try and change the subject back to the Avengers. He had a very limited chance to impress Mr. Stark, so he wasn't about to jeopardize that.

There elevator stopped at a floor he hadn't been on before, and Peter glanced up from where he'd been staring at his phone to find a face he'd only seen on the TV screen at his school and at an airport in Germany looking at him with what seemed to be an equal amount of surprise to his own. Captain Steve Rogers cleared his throat and gave Peter a quick smile and nod, stepping into the elevator and pressing one of the buttons. The one for the floor above Mr. Stark's lab. Captain Rogers, who had dropped a loading bridge on him and who had slammed a shield into his face, glanced at the buttons once more, and then at Peter.

"Do you work with Tony?"

"Um...yeah...yes sir, Captain, sir. I'm his intern."

Steve Rogers nodded, eyebrows raised. "You can just call me Steve, son. That's pretty impressive. How old are you?"

"Uh...fifteen."

"Fifteen and you have an internship with Tony? Hm…" He nodded, tilting his head towards Peter. "I didn't even know that…"

Peter's senses were going off before Steve had the chance to finish his sentence, and the man paused when Peter's eyes went wide. "Son? Are you…"

And then something snapped...and they were falling.

Peter gasped, looking around wildly as the lights shut off and the elevator plunged downward, his stomach lifting up into his throat as Steve grabbed the wall to steady himself. The cry escaped Peter's mouth before he could stifle it, and Steve reached out, grasping Peter's shoulder before there was a bang and a crash and everything went dark.

"Son? Can you hear me?"

Peter groaned when his head gave a stab of pain, and he pressed his hands to the floor, wincing when one of his wrists refused to hold his weight.

"Son?" The man beside him swore and something pressed against his throat. Fingers. A hand. "Son, can you hear me?" Peter tried to make a noise. Tried to move. But his head throbbed and his wrist throbbed and his whole body felt heavy. There was movement, and then his voice again. "Tony?" Peter heard Mr. Stark's fuzzy, far away voice through the roaring in his ears, but he couldn't make out words. "The cable must have snapped...I'm in here with your intern." A pause, and more words he couldn't catch. "Yeah your intern! Um...I don't know his name. He's, uh...a teenager. Brown hair."

Then a hand on his throat once more. Someone was squeezing his shoulder. Steve, Peter remembered. He was in the elevator with Steve Rogers. "Peter?" Silence. Was he supposed to answer? "He's not responding, Tony. He needs medical...he hit his head pretty hard, and I think he broke his wrist." A hand prodded his wrist and a cry was forced from his mouth. "Peter?"

"Missr...Rogers?" Peter asked, trying again to open his eyes, but his voice slurred so much that he couldn't even understand himself.

"I'm going to come down in the suit. Just...hang on," Mr. Stark said through the phone, and Peter could hear him a little better.

"Can I just...open the hatch? Climb out?"

"We don't know if he has spinal damage...just stay put for a second. I'll see if…" Peter felt a wave of dizziness and his stomach clenched. Swallowing hard, he forced his eyes open and stared up at the dark ceiling.

"Peter? Son, can you hear me?"

"Captain…"

"Hey...Peter, how are you feeling?" Steve asked, and Peter realized that the only light came from his cellphone pressed to his ear.

"S dark," Peter rasped, and Steve nodded, patting his shoulder.

"The cable to the elevator must have snapped. Just hang tight for a second." Then he went back to the phone conversation he'd been having. "Tony? Yeah, he's conscious. I don't know if...hey, woah…" Steve grabbed his shoulder when Peter started to sit up, only putting weight on his left hand. "Son, you should lie still."

"M'okay."

"Yeah?" Steve asked, supporting him as he sat up, resting his back against the wall. "I think you broke your wrist. How does your head feel?"

"Hurts...concussion," he muttered.

"Tony? Yeah, you want to talk to him?" And then the phone was pressed to his ear and he lifted his shaking left hand to hold it.

"Mr. Stark?" he asked, hesitant. The most he'd spoken to Mr. Stark had been at their lab day last month, and the man had been friendly, but everything still felt new. Rocky. The last thing he wanted to do was make Mr. Stark think he couldn't take care of himself. He was supposed to be proving himself! Proving that he could be a hero and proving that he was smart enough for this internship. But when Mr. Stark spoke, he didn't sound aloof. Didn't sound like he was going to make one of his jokes to cut the tension. Instead, he sounded scared.

"Pete? Kid, you alright?"

"Uh...yeah, I'm...I'm okay."

"Try again." His voice was terse, but still worried, and Peter felt himself flush.

"Concussion, maybe a broken wrist."

Mr. Stark blew out a breath. "Okay. Yeah...that's relatively okay, considering. It looks like there's another car pinning you guys down. I'll have to see if…"

Something creaked and Peter lost track of what the man was saying. Steve met his eyes in the dim lighting, then they both looked up at the ceiling, Peter handing Steve his phone back.

"Peter? Steve? Hey!" Mr. Stark was calling, but Peter felt a thrill of panic go up and down his spine, and he jumped to his feet, ignoring how lightheaded it made him feel, and shot an arm up.

"Peter!" Steve called, starting to jump up too, but the walls of the elevator car crumpled and the other car came crashing through, stopped only by Peter's hand. His knees buckled a little but he kept himself upright, just barely, his right arm hanging useless at his side.

Mr. Stark swore on the line, and Peter thought he could hear the man's voice from the elevator shaft. Steve managed to stand, ducking down and starting to help Peter hold the elevator car, hs mouth wide open. "How...how are you.."

"Um...I'm, uh...I'm Spider-Man. So, it's….it's nice to see you again, Captain."

"You're Spider-Man?"

"Yeah...um...you think you can…"

"Of course," Steve pressed his hands to the elevator car above them and straightened, helping Peter bear the weight with a groan, and Peter sighed in relief. His whole body felt weak, and when he glanced down at the floor, he realized why that was. In the dim light cast from the phone, and thanks to his enhanced vision, he could see a red puddle on the floor, and he could feel the blood dripping down the back of his neck. "How long have you…"

"Captain?" Peter interrupted, leaning against the wall, then sliding down.

"Yeah?" the man asked, turning to watch him sit. "Are you okay?"

"I think I'm gonna pass out." He placed a hand to the wound in the back of his head, then held up a hand dripping with blood.

Steve swore. "Tony!" he called toward the phone that Peter wanted to pick up but could only stare at. "Tony, you've got to get us out of here! The kid's hurt!"

"I'm working on it!" Mr. Stark shouted, voice coming from the phone and the elevator shaft, but Peter was listing sideways, dark spots joining together in his vision.

"Peter? Stay with me!"

"Sorry...sir…" Peter slumped to the side, hitting the ground and then everything went black again.

The hands that slipped under him jerked him back to consciousness. Peter groaned and tried to sit up, but the hands lifted him and held him to a metal surface...the Iron Man suit, he realized. "Mr. Stark?"

"Got it in one. What's your name?"

"I...what?"

"Your name. What's your name," Mr. Stark demanded, voice soft and robotic as it was filtered through the suit.

"Peter?"

"You know what day it is?"

"Saturday." They were moving, flying upwards, and he could smell dust that made him want to sneeze.

"How are you feeling?"

"Headache."

"I'll bet. You're bleeding all over my suit," Mr. Stark told him tightly.

"Sorry…"

"Do not apologize for having a head injury, kid."

Peter was quiet, trying to figure out if Mr. Stark was being his usual self or if he was actually upset. After a moment, the man sighed, squeezing him gently in what might have been classified as a hug.

"I'm going to get you to the medbay, kiddo. We'll get your wrist wrapped up too. I think we'll skip lab day. Don't want you blowing up the lab because you can't see straight."

"I can see…"

"We'll let a real medical doctor be the judge of that," he murmured, voice almost gentle.

"Is Captain America okay?"

"Yeah, Capsicle is fine. A suit is getting him out."

"I had to tell him…"

The suit landed on a floor, then, Mr. Stark moving quickly forward as he carried him down a familiar hallway, the lights so bright after the darkness they sent a bolt of pain through his head. Closing his eyes, he leaned his head against the suit and tried to hide from them.

"Yeah, I know. It's fine. Cap's not going to tell anyone." He hesitated for a moment as the suit strode forward, holding him steady against his chest. Peter's wrist hurt so badly and he took a deep breath, not wanting to risk throwing up on Iron Man on his second official day at his internship. Then, Mr. Stark spoke, breaking his concentration. "He said you stopped the elevator from crushing the both of you."

"I...yeah, I...it was falling." Peter gave a quick shrug.

"You're a pretty amazing kid, you know that?" The man's soft words took him by surprise and Peter stared up at the mask, wide-eyed. But the mask wasn't over the man's face anymore. It was gone, leaving only Mr. Stark looking down at him with an expression Peter hadn't seen on him before. He looked worried. A little sad. But also proud. It was a strange combination from a man who had seemed so...distant. But he had to squash the hope that rose up in him, fighting against his reminders to himself that this was his mentor. Only his mentor. And barely that.

"I hit my head," Peter told him, blinking and watching the world go fuzzy for a moment. Maybe this was a dream. It wasn't that Mr. Stark didn't like him. But he didn't think the man wanted to be what Peter had hoped he would be. "I miss my uncle," he muttered, not sure why he said it, but as soon as the words were out of his mouth, Mr. Stark's eyebrows lifted, a look of surprise covering his face. And then it softened into sadness.

"I...I'm sorry, kiddo," the man murmured, seeming to fight his own discomfort. Peter knew that the man didn't want to comfort him. Peter was just an intern. And maybe, if he was lucky, Mr. Stark would be his mentor. But he didn't think Mr. Stark was ever going to be like his uncle. He wasn't ever going to be what Peter wanted so badly...what he missed so much. The thought made heat spring to his eyes and he wondered if it was the concussion that made a tear run down his face, and then another.

"Pete?" He was being eased onto a bed and his wrist shifted but that didn't matter. He wasn't crying because of his wrist. "Kiddo...hey, the doctor's on his way. Is...is your arm…"

"I miss my uncle." He closed his eyes, head throbbing as more tears ran down his face. He could never explain to Mr. Stark exactly what he was trying to say but in the next moment, he heard the suit disengage, and then a hand, not covered in metal but covered in calluses, gripped his left hand.

"I know. I'm...I'm sorry, Pete. I'm...I'm right here, okay? You're okay."

The world tilted and darkened when a doctor came in, talking him and carefully wrapping his wrist. There was pain medication in an IV in his arm and a cast on his wrist and all through it, Mr. Stark sat at his side, his hand firmly grasping his own.

When he woke, the world coming back slowly, he tried to remember what had happened...why he was laying in a bed with a soft beeping at his side and an IV in his arm. All he could remember was an elevator. An elevator and...Steve Rogers.

"Captain America?" He asked, eyes still closed. Was the man okay? Had they gotten out?

"Close," a voice told him on his left, the word soft and fond.

"Huh?" He opened his eyes, turning his head that still hurt a little but not as bad as before...he remembered a pounding headache. Pain in his arm. When he looked down, he realized that his arm was in a cast. Beside him was Mr. Stark, and he narrowed his eyes, confused. "Mr. Stark?"

"There you go." Mr. Stark nodded, squeezing his hand.

"Is Captain America okay?"

"Yep. He's fine. You're fine. We're all fine." Peter glanced back down at his arm. "Well, you got a concussion and a broken wrist. Steve twisted his ankle which is already healed. So, yeah. Relatively fine."

"Did you get us out?"

"Sure did. They don't call me a superhero for nothing."

Peter blinked at him a few times, still tired. Still fuzzy. But he knew that Mr. Stark was there...he knew that Mr. Stark was sitting at his bedside and he felt bad. He was sure the man was busy. So, steeling himself to fall asleep alone, he tried to smile. "You can go. You're busy. I'm just going to sleep."

The man stared at him for a moment, lips pressed together, eyes large and sad. But then he shook his head. "I don't have anywhere else to be, Pete. You can sleep if you want. I'll be right here."

Peter stared at him for a moment, but the man just squeezed his hand, leaning over to pull the blanket up over his shoulders.

Iron Man was tucking him in.

And, not sure what to do with that information but not able to keep himself awake any longer, Peter drifted back into sleep.

Thank you for reading!