"Pete! Hook left!" Steve yelled from across the field, waving his arms to try and get Peter's attention.
"No, no! PETE, LEFT!" Quill shouted, waving his arms just as enthusiastically as Steve was, basically jumping up and down to try and convey his point.
"Straight! Straight! Right through!" Thor was motioning his arms in a complex play that he was trying to get Peter to follow.
"Maybe backwards too, for good measure!" Scott joked, cupping his hands around his mouth so he could shout it.
Peter was running out of time to make a move. There were people all over him and he had the ball so it wasn't like he could just stand still. The smallest guy was on Pete's left so he ducked that way, his soccer cleats squelching on the damp grass. He hadn't gone for a run this morning but it had been raining basically all day, even as they were playing, rain was pouring down on them. He was soaked through to the bone and chilled to his core.
Freezing and wet didn't make for the best conditions to play it, so as Peter tried to swerve around the man on his left they checked shoulders and both of them tumbled to the ground, the other player on top of Peter.
"Shit!" Peter yelled as the other man scrambled to get off of him. His entire forearm was on fire and when the player finally got up, Peter rolled to a sitting position and saw that his wrist was an inflamed red color.
Scott was by his side first, helping him off the ground with his good arm. "You break it Pete?" He asked. The ref had called a time out so the game wasn't majorly disrupted. There was only about ten minutes left in the game and they were ahead, so Peter was super worried about the status of it.
"No, I didn't break it, it just fucking hurts." He emphasized and winced when he tried to rotate his hand even a little.
Coulson met them about halfway to the bench, jogging out onto the field. "What's up Pete? You need to go to the infirmary?" He asked, walking with them now towards the sidelines so that Pete could get off the field.
"I don't know. It's not broken." Pete said weakly. He didn't really want to go to the infirmary and miss the rest of the game, but he figured it would probably be for the best.
"Scott, can you take him up to Strange? Don't worry about the game guys, we're 2-0." Coulson briefed, so Peter figured they were probably in the clear unless the other team scored three points in ten minutes.
Blow out rounds for state started in February, with the second semester, this was just some more friendly rivalry. Still though, Peter hated losing.
Once they were clear of the pitch, Peter could hears sounds of the game commencing.
"Hope it's not anything serious." Scott mumbled, pushing open the door for Peter. They were at one of the back entrances to the main building, which stayed unlocked basically all the time given that they were surrounded by iron wrought fences.
"It's not. Just a sprain or something. Anyway, I don't need my arm for soccer." Peter answered, even though Scott had been basically talking to himself.
"I don't know Petey, I mean if Loki gets sick... And then every other player on the team, you'll have to play goalie." Scott joked and Peter rolled his eyes.
It was weird walking through the school in the dark. All the doors were closed, it was getting dark outside the windows, the school didn't even have automatic lights, so they were walking in near dark.
Strange lived full time at the school, so they knew they would find him in the room attached to the infirmary. Pete had never actually been in the infirmary, but Scott had been enough times for the both of them. The greatest interaction he'd ever had with Strange was when he'd burnt his hand on that cigarette.
"If I have to play goalie, I'm officially resigning." He snarked right back. There wasn't even a chain of command like that in place for the games. If Loki got sick they would deal with it, there wasn't anyone appointed to take him place. Although, now that the new kids were coming there would be someone.
The infirmary had the lights on, for which Peter was glad, he hadn't really been looking forward to knocking on the mans door.
"Hey, Doctor?" Pete called lightly, pushing the door open. Strange was bent over his desk and studying some papers. He looked up when Peter called out.
"Peter." He said curtly and then didn't respond for a moment. "Take a seat on the bed. Pete did as he was told, Strange only gave a cursory glance to Scott, but Peter figured it was obvious who was hurt in this situation.
Scott lingered by Peter's side for a moment and Strange flashed his gaze up towards him, prompting Scott to say his goodbyes and leave. "Uh, I'll see you later Petey. I'll bring the team up."
"Sounds good!" Peter said with a nod, watching Scott walk out of the room, still dressed completely in his soccer gear.
""So what happened?" Strange asked, coming over to stand next to the hospital bed that Pete was sitting on. Strange pulled up a chair next to it, which Peter was glad for. Doctor Strange was an imposing man, and all the more intimidating if he was looming over Peter as he sat in the hospital bed.
"I got tackled, landed on my wrist weird. It doesn't hurt that bad." He emphasized, not wanting Strange to think that he'd broken it or anything. Hopefully he could just have it wrapped up in an ace bandage and be on his way. Dealing with a superficial injury was not something he needed right now.
Semester exams were coming up soon, which Peter logically shouldn't be worried about, but he still was. A lot was riding on these tests. Currently, he had above a 97 in every class and was on the fast track to graduate at the end of the year, but his scholarships were really riding on him maintaining a high grade point average.
It was a stupid thing to be hung up on, but Peter just didn't want one more thing to fret over. Or one more thing for Tony to fret over for that matter.
Tony had been kind of strange lately, a little more reserved and a little more on guard. He'd told Peter to delete all their text messages but muttered something about how 'that still won't do any good.' Pete was concerned, but Tony hadn't given him any concrete proof that they'd been found out, or someone was on to them. He did wonder about why Tony hadn't been at his game tonight, but figured that it was only reasonable Tony wouldn't have every Saturday night to come watch a sport that he didn't even particularly like.
"Parker your hand." Strange said, repeating himself, though Peter hadn't been paying attention the first time. Strange was holding his own hand out and took Peter's in it, holding it at the exact angle he wanted to look at the wrist.
Strange pushed against his hand, which didn't feel like anything. He then did the same action except with pulling, and still Peter didn't feel much of anything. It was when Strange tried to rotate his hand on his wrist that he winced in pain and reflexively jerked it back towards himself. Strange fixed him with a look and Peter gave him the hand back.
"It looks like it's probably just a sprain. I'll wrap it up for you. Come back here in the morning and I'll re-wrap it, then the proceeding mornings. We'll keep it wrapped up at least for a week just to let it heal. I don't want you wrapping it up yourself, especially not before you go to sleep, that's how you lose a hand." He warned and stood up from the chair he was sitting at, grabbing some supplies.
He watched Strange, the man was tall, not unelegant, and not conventionally attractive. Peter hadn't spent much time around him but he seemed nice. Especially since he remembered that he'd saved Tony's life all those years ago.
Shutting one of the drawers into the cabinet he was at, Strange hesitated in front a radio, before finally using one of his vaguely tremoring fingers to press it on, tuned into whatever the local rock station was.
It took a moment for Peter to recognize the song as it started in the direct middle of it. "Heat of the moment." Peter commented. It was a mildly popular song, one that came on the station at least once every few days. Tony knew everything about rock music, so when they listened to the radio in the car he would tell Peter facts about the songs, and Peter being himself always remembered them.
"Yes, by Asia. Released in-" Strange started and Peter joined in.
"1982." They finished in unison and Strange gave him a brief an indecipherable look before sitting back down in the chair and prompting Peter to hold his hand out like earlier.
Strange started by taping it with bland looking athletic tape, followed by wrapping it and then shuffling around in another cabinet before he found a wrist brace.
"Do I really have to wear the brace?" Peter asked. It was very awkward looking, would draw attention to him, and not to mention it would severely worsen his already terrible handwriting.
Strange gave him a look that shut him up and Peter nodded, letting Strange strap it on his wrist.
The song changed abruptly, not even letting the first on finish before a new beat was playing.
"Passage to Bangkok, Rush." Peter supplied immediately, having realized that Strange must rather enjoy music if he could prattle off facts about it.
"Released in 1976." Strange said, almost as if on impulse.
"On the 2112 album." Peter added the final bit of information that he knew about the song. This song was slightly special since Tony happened to own the album, and insisted on actually listening to the 38 minute song 2112, the namesake for the album.
"I have pain killers in my office, follow me." Strange directed and Peter hopped off the bed, feeling the added weight on his arm as he did. "You know quite a bit about music." Strange remarked, pushing open the door for Peter.
The office was refined, minimalist, and looked expensive. There was almost nothing in it that could show him a glimpse of just who Strange was, save for a few pictures on his desk that were facing the wrong way for Peter to see. "Uh yeah, To- uh, Mr. Stark and I fixed up an old car. We would listen to the radio." Peter said, scolding himself for almost saying Tony. The fact that they'd fixed the car wasn't exactly a secret since they'd done it in the parking lot and more than a few teachers had walked by. Mr. Barton had even offered to help a few times, Tony always turned him down.
"Hm." Was all Doctor Strange's response as he opened the top drawer of his desk, he rifled around in it for a moment and then opened the drawer below it, not seeming to find what he was looking for. "I must have left it out there, I'll be right back."
Strange left and the door shut heavy behind him. Peter immediately walked to the other side of Strange's desk, trying to take in the pictures as quickly as possible. There was one of him in a Doctor's coat standing next to a pretty looking nurse. Another without him, featuring a bald woman, a black man, and an overweight looking Chinese man. The last picture was similar to one in Tony's office of him and Ms. Romanoff standing next to each other in cocktail party like attire. If Peter was remembering correctly, this was probably the same night since he recognized the clothing that Tony and Ms. Romanoff were wearing, but Doctor Strange was standing next to them, wearing a scarf and an expensive looking coat with the collar popped, he looked significantly younger in the photo as well.
Peter went back to the other side of the desk just as Doctor Strange walked back in, hopefully convincing that man that nothing was amiss.
Strange eyed him, raising an eyebrow before seeming to disregard it and setting a glass of water on his desk, opening the pill bottle and giving two to Peter, who washed them down with water.
He should have left after that, really, really should have just gone back to the common room and forgotten all about the picture, about how Strange would know something about Tony. Peter tried to bite his tongue, but when he finally got the pills swallowed, he spoke anyway.
"Mr. Stark told me the story about how you saved him." Smooth, Peter. That definitely didn't make it sound like you're hero-worshiping him or something.
Doctor Strange raised his eyebrow again and took a seat at his desk, crossing one leg over the other and motioning for Peter to sit in the chair across from him, which he did.
"And what, exactly, did Mr. Stark tell you." Strange emphasized the word which made Peter nervous. He wondered if there was some reason he wasn't supposed to know this, or some detail Tony had left out that Strange didn't want to accidentally spill.
"Just that he had his accident and you performed the surgery." Peter said simply, leaving out just a few extra bits that he knew. He didn't want to make it seem like Tony and him had had an emotional sharing moment or something, just that it came up once when they were working on the cars.
"Go on." Strange implored, seeming to know that Peter was holding back something.
Once again, Peter tried not to say anything that would be considered oversharing, to say anything that would hint and him knowing Tony personally, to say anything that would just flat out incriminate them. "He also said that he had plans to fix it himself, but he had to act faster than he could afford. He said that it was the last surgery you did before your... Accident." Peter struggled with the last word, he'd never heard the exact details surrounding Doctor Strange's accident, and he certainly didn't want to make it appear that he did.
"I see." He said and for a moment Peter thought that was the end of their conversation and that he was expected to leave at that time. "Did Mr. Stark tell you the details regarding either of our accidents?" He questioned finally, looking directly into Peter's eyes, imploring him to slip up.
The truth was that Tony hadn't, but Peter struggled with how Strange had said 'Mr. Stark,' something about it sounded accusatory. It sounded like Strange suspected something. "No. I don't know anything about them."
Strange stood up then, it was a flourishing movement and then with a complicated feat of coordination that Peter could barely follow, he had put a coat on, the same one from the picture on his desk. "I believe I'll step out for a smoke, follow me out Peter."
Pete didn't really want to follow him, but it wasn't really a question, so he did anyway.
The hallways were dark again, darker now than they were before since the sun had gone down. He hadn't pictured Dr. Strange as a smoker, but he also hadn't pictured him as a music fanatic, so Peter was learning lots of things today.
"You and Mr. Stark rebuilt that car together?" He asked, even though the answer was obvious, Peter had already said it in fewer words earlier.
"Uh, yeah, yeah we did. Right in the parking lot." He felt that the ending was forced, that he just wanted to make sure Strange knew that they hadn't gotten up to anything funny in those early days, not really.
"And then he drove you home when you had that domestic crisis." Strange commented and Peter didn't like the way he'd said it. It sounded cold, medical, not like how it actually had been.
"S'pose he did." Peter agreed, simply because it was common knowledge, any of his other teachers could confirm this, Tony would even readily do that.
"And Winter break?" He stated again, and Peter didn't even fully process it before he was answering.
"Yeah-no, no. Mr. Stark didn't drive me home on Winter break." He said but Strange seemed to have gotten exactly what he was trying to get.
When they exited the school he lit a cigarette and walked away from Peter without saying anything else.
Peter felt an anxious pit in his stomach forming.
"Hey Peter's back!" Drax announced when he walked into the common room. It was a Saturday night so all of the boys were still sitting around shooting the breeze when he got there. The small television was on, playing some rerun of Parks and Recreation.
"Yep, not dead." He joked and took a seat on the couch in between Steve and Thor. Usually he wouldn't bother with them, with socializing when he was just tired. But he didn't want to be alone with his thoughts right now, didn't want to have to sit in his room and pretend that everything was going to be okay, because realistically it probably wasn't.
"Does it hurt?" Loki asked, looking bored from his seat on the ground, leaning against one of the arm chairs. The kid that Peter roomed with last year sat next to Loki, a little too close for it to be platonic.
"Nope, Strange got me some pain killers, I feel fine honestly." He said with a shrug, and showed off his ridiculous black Velcro brace to the team.
"Thank God, we could stand to lose you." Loki said dismally and Peter sighed. Just one more thing to deal with was this ridiculous team.
Pete stood up off the couch. There were only a few people in the room who weren't actually in the soccer team, so he felt safe turning the TV off without getting too many boos. "Alright, here's the deal. The new people, I know that you guys don't want new additions to the team. I totally get that, and I understand why. You're worried that you're going to have to get benched. I'm not going to try to say that I would never bench you guys, because I'm going to have to. We're getting a goalie, a center, and a striker. That means Loki, Scott, Paul, and TC, you guys are all at risk for being benched a game or two. Unlike Loki seems to think, it's not the end of the world, so if you guys could just keep your shit over this, that'd be great."
Peter clicked the button to turn the TV back on, not really accepting comments on what he'd just said. It was the truth, and they could ague all they wanted, it wasn't going to change what was happening.
He felt a tap on his shoulder and saw that it was Quill who leaned down and whispered in Peter's ear. "Hey, can we talk in my room?"
Pete sighed but nodded and stood up, following Quill off to his dorm.
Inside was incredibly messy, clothing everywhere, no definite line between the clutter of one roommate and another, the whole room made Peter very anxious.
"What's up Quill?" He asked, adding this conversation to the growing list of things he didn't want to deal with.
"Look, Pete, I totally get where you're coming from, with wanting to let everyone know what's what and shit. But, I think that you need to be talking up the existing team a little more. You totally just made everyone nervous that you're gonna kick them or something if the new people are better than them." Quill rushed out.
That was absolutely not what Peter had just done. He wiped his face with a hand and took a deep breath.
"You know what, if they wanted to take it that way. Fine. I'm not going to deal with a bunch of little kids whining about playing games right now. This is about winning state, not keeping fucking Loki happy." He stressed.
Quill opened his mouth to speak again but Peter shook his head.
"No Quill, that's all. Thanks for the advice, but it's not helpful right now."
Peter felt slightly bad when he turned around and left Quill standing in the middle of his shit hole room, but he didn't dwell on it. Quill was just trying to captain him since he didn't think Peter was up to it, but if there was one thing that really wasn't stressing Peter at the moment, that was soccer.
Once in the hallway he leaned against the wood panels and pulled his phone out. Tony hadn't sent him many texts in the last few days, and when he pulled open the conversation it was almost barren after he'd wiped everything that had been in there.
Sent: Tony 8:45 pm.
I think someone's onto us.
That's all he said, no specifics, no nothing. He didn't want to explain that whole thing tonight and he wouldn't. It wasn't like the cops would be showing up at Tony's door off of completely circumstantial evidence Strange could give him, so they were sage for now.
He walked toward his room, on the other side of the building and walking towards him he saw a face that he hadn't seen, or really payed attention to for the past few months.
Erik was walking out of his own room, dressed like he was going to a party, which he probably was.
They made eye contact and Erik did was Peter least expected him to do, he flashed one of his huge, brilliant smiles at Peter and paused.
"Hey Pete, how you holding up?" He asked and Peter faltered for a moment, trying to regain his bearings and adding yet another thing to his ever growing list of 'things he didn't want to deal with,' it was really quite long at this point.
"Uh hey Erik, I'm fine. Just tired." He responded and made to keep walking but Erik grabbed him by the shoulder, not tight, just affirming.
"You don't really look fine. You look stressed Pete." Erik quirked his lips to the side and Peter just shook his head.
"No, I'm not. Just tired." And he pulled out of Erik's grip, walking down towards him room.
It was weird, that someone who knew him so well could be such a stranger at this point. He hadn't spoken to Erik in a long time. He didn't really think he was going to start now, but it was pretty nice of Erik to pick up on the fact that he wasn't feeling well. Then Peter viscerally remembered Erik's hand striking his face and he let go of that train of thought, he wouldn't think about Erik now when he just had to worry about Tony.
There was a response from Tony when he got to his room.
Received: Tony 9:01 pm.
What? Peter, call me right now.
Pete ignored the text message in favor of falling asleep.