Peter looked down from the top of the roof. He'd spent the night saving people from petty theft and even a cat from a tree, and now he was tired. He looked down and then hopped off the building to grab his bag and head home quietly. May was probably going to be home, if she wasn't already, and he didn't want to use the 'I was with Ned' excuse for the fourth time this week.

He unstuck his bag and put it on, which was when he heard the disturbance. A couple of men, some screams, something about a kidnapping. He got to it straight away, climbing up the side of the building and looking down to see the men, all dressed in black.

"Six against one? That's not fair!" He shot his web and swung down, knocking three out altogether, before stopping another three from shooting at him.

"Calm down, guys!" He yelled as he jumped around them and stopped them taking off. The woman who had been cornered immediately took off.

"You've got a lot to learn." A voice replied, and he instantly turned his head to see another masked man, who threw a knife his way, and he ducked but still felt a searing pain run through his body. He looked up at his shoulder to see an arrow, and a man standing on the opposite building he'd just jumped down from, holding a bow and arrow.

"An arrow? Seriously?" He blinked and felt his vision blur.

"Seriously." The man replied as Peter stumbled against the wall, trying his best to stay awake, except he couldn't even move properly.

"Quickly," someone shouted in the back, and to Peter it sounded like a bunch of echoes, one on top of the other.

May closed the door behind her as quietly as she could, lately Peter was noticing all these things, waking up every time she came home. She hung her coat on the hook, glancing at the time on her phone again. 00:13.

She sighed, muttering under her breath. The earlier she tried to get home on time, the later she was. She opened the fridge and grabbed a water bottle, about to go into her room.

She frowned and looked at Peter's door, going in to check if he was there. She'd been overprotective since Ben, always just peaking in before heading to her own room. It'd become habit for the fast few months now, especially with him staying out late recently.

The door was always open, and she slightly pushed it back with her foot with her water and bag in hand. No one was there. She set down her things quickly on the desk next to his door and tapped down the bed and the top bunk.

"Peter!" She yelled, checking around the door, turning off his light and then all the flat lights, running around in frenzy. "Peter! If this is a joke-" she stopped when she realised he wasn't there.

She put a hand on her forehead, breathing out shakily and calling Peter with her other hand. It rang a few times and went to voicemail, and she wanted to throw her phone at that point. Should she call the police? No, he's fine.

She called Ned. Maybe he forgot to text, although he never forgets, but maybe he did-

"Ms Parker? Peter?" Ned answered.

"Sorry, were you sleeping? You were probably-"

"Nope, it's Friday night, I wasn't-"

"Is Peter with you?" She cut in, staring intensely at the door in front of her, hoping he'd walk in and say that he was mugged or something, because that was better than what as floating around in her mind.

There was hesitation, "Peter? Um-I saw him like a few hours ago-"

"So he's not with you? Did he say he was going somewhere? Anywhere?" She tried desperately, already planning what she'd tell the police. What would they say? She was neglecting him, maybe? She should've been home? Why-

"I think so. He said he was, uh, you know, gonna be hanging out, uh, you know-"

"Ned, if you know where he is, you have to tell me!"

Ned thought about it, he knew Peter was out Spider-Manning today, but maybe he got hurt. "Have you asked Mr Stark?"

"What? No, why would I-he said he wasn't interning there anymore." She replied, scratching her head and frowning, "I'm gonna call the police, and-"

"You should ask Mr Stark, you know, just to be sure." Ned urged, because Tony was the only one who'd be able to find him or know where he could be.

"Right. Okay, thanks, Ned."

"And tell me what happens!" Ned said quickly and May mumbled a sure before hanging up.

She walked up to the kitchen and scrambled around the pin board, lifting up pieces of paper to find Stark's number. She ripped off old permission slips, store coupons and random papers of outdated information, before finding the scrap of paper with the number scribbled on that Peter had given her.

She stared at it for a few seconds and then entered it into her phone, calling before she could change her mind.

There were a few rings and someone picked up, "who is this?"

She frowned and scoffed, "I thought this was Tony Stark's number."

"It is. Who are you?"

"May Parker. I'm Peter's-"

"Aunt. What's wrong? Is he okay?"

"No. No, he didn't come home and-uh-"

"I'll-wait a second." The man replied, and the line cut off. She was about to scream and swear when someone else answered.

He'd been down there since five in the morning. First he couldn't sleep, then he couldn't stop tinkering. Then, he fell asleep on the table, a screwdriver a few centimetres from his hand.

"Call transfer from Happy Hogan." The voice echoed in the dead silent room, and Tony

"I haven't slept in like twenty-four hours, take a message." Tony grumbled, yawning, lifting his head and pushing his tools out of the way.

"Hello?"

He scowled at Friday, and yawned again, "you've reached the voicemail-"

"Don't bullshit me, I-"

"That will be easier to do when I know who you are." He said, stretching and stumbling out of the chair. He slowly walked out of the place he'd spent the whole day in and adjusted his earpiece.

There was an angry sigh, "is Peter with you? I just-I know he said the internship was over and I didn't press him on it, but I don't know what he meant! And his friend said to call you because apparently-"

"Okay, wait a second." Peter said the internship was over? He'd be lying if he said that didn't upset him. And if Peter wasn't home, he was out in trouble. "How forgetful of me, I sent him to do...that thing." Tony said, turning instantly and going back to his workshop in a hurry.

"Really? What thing?" May sounded relieved, and that was all he needed right now.

"Totally. A few classified errands." Tony said without thinking, too focused on the screen in front of him.

"What?" She said in shock. "Okay, well then we need to have a serious talk about the hours he-"

"Yep, sounds fun, I'll call you in like an hour. He's staying over with the other interns for a weekend thing, must've not told you, you know how forgetful he can be." Tony lied so quickly that it just made her more suspicious.

"But he's safe. I mean calling me back in an hour? Why can't you just-do you know exactly where he is, right now?" May pressed again.

"Definitely." Tony replied, ending the call quickly with a bye as his eyes scanned the screen.

"Friday, I need something here." He said, sighing when his search came up empty. "Spider-Man, anything relating to-"

"8801 Pike Street. Disturbance with a woman shows Spider-Man time stamped at 9:34." Friday stated, pulling up the footage in front of him.

Tony stared at the blurry backstreet video. He saw Peter swing down, the woman run and then Peter get shot by an arrow, and then collapse and get taken. He activated the suit and it came flying, sticking to him within seconds.

"Get the number plate? Of course you did." He replied to himself, making his way out. He reached the sitting area and looked around for Vision. It's not like he's sleeping. "Vision!" He yelled, Vision appeared nearly instantaneously, making him jump back. "You gotta stop creeping up like that." He said looking up again. "Gear up, we're going on a mission."

"Where?" Vision replied, tilting his head.

"To find someone." He stated.

There was a bump on the road that rocked the van. Peter's eyes opened quickly as soon as he regained consciousness. He was in the back of a van that was stopped, or it looked like a van, his head was hurting and he was having trouble even thinking.

"He's awake again!" A voice said.

He looked up and moved back, instantly moving his hands up in defence, surprised they were still free. Then before he had time to react, because his mind was still foggy and his whole body still hurt, he was hit with another surprise, this time in his chest.

His breath was caught in his throat, and he looked down to see blood. He gasped, finding it hard to breathe while he squinted. He couldn't focus on anything, and he was hearing everything.

"-driving here in the middle of the-"

"-tired and you told me we'd-"

"-a stop at the gas station to-"

"-and Mom said that an hour ago-"

He slowed down his breathing and trembled, looking at his chest, covering it with both hands as the bleeding slowed down. He'd be alright. It's just one bullet. And you're already healing-

His hands were shaking uncontrollably, he was crying, and he couldn't focus on anything. Looking up and then around, he fidgeted, but there was no 'getting comfortable', not when you've been shot twice.

"He-hey! St-stop!" He cried, and just that took half his energy to say.

The man in front of him grimaced, "sorry, you been messin' with our business." He replied, as the van came to a stop. He couldn't stop himself from crying, he didn't even know where to hold, there was just so much blood.

One of them hopped outside, grabbing Peter's shoulders and dragging him out the van. He half-fell onto the ground and scrunched up his face in pain.

"There's a lake-" the voice faded and Peter gasped for air, he needed help. He needed someone to help him.

"The lake? You mean that tiny lake opposite a billion houses-do you not have a brain?" Another one shouted, and there was more arguing and swearing, and repeated mentions of the world child.

There was scuffling, and then the dragging continued. Peter ended up near a dilapidated building.

"No, leave him here," there was a pause, "I got a guy."

There was a small scoff and then a humourless laugh. "You-what the hell, dude!"

"They wanted to confirm he's dead."

"What the f-he's obviously dead! Whose gonna survive that?" Someone replied hastily, and there the voices faded into the distance.

"Just cover him up with some leaves and get the hell out of here, if we get caught we're done."

Peter squinted to focus, and then there was dirt and dead leaves being brushed onto him from the floor.

"That's enough. Just-let's go-"

Peter coughed, pushing the leaves off in frustration and brushing the dirt off his face. He couldn't breathe, scratching his face as he struggled to take the mask off. He threw it aside and took a deep breath, covering his wounds with his hands and pushing himself up against a wall.

He looked down and coughed again, and this time there was blood. He stood up against the wall, nearly falling forwards, and steadied himself. Then he looked to his right, at the passing cars, and squinted, leaning back against the wall and unzipping the top red hoodie. He squirmed and it fell to the ground. He took off the gloves next, and the webbers, chucking them to the side.

The search didn't come along as well as they expected, because no one could figure out where Peter went after the fight. Going to the scene was a stupid decision, as Tony had called it, because no one was there by the time they got there, over two hours later. And the numberplate had been a complete waste of time, and that irritated him even more.

"Maybe he's-"

Tony blocked him out, holding the bridge of his nose after an hour of researching dead-ends. He stared at the floor in anger, his heart beating steadily fast since he'd found out about the situation.

"Maybe the police can help." Rhodey finally suggested. Tony looked up and moved his hand away from his face.

"The police? Yeah, I'm sure they'll be-"

"It was just a suggestion. We haven't got a lot of those, if you haven't noticed." Rhodey said quietly, moving from his stiff position.

Tony ignored that comment and went back to his computer screen, his eyes tired from staring at the same screen for an hour.

"Hospital." He whispered, and Rhodey looked up from his phone. "Someone found him, let's go."

There was the faintest sound doctors talking in the background in the otherwise dead silent corridor.

He gasped when he opened his eyes, freezing in pain.

"Honey, it's-it's okay, really!" An old, comforting voice said instantly, holding his hand to stop him from flailing them around.

"I'm-" he wheezed, tears falling down the side of his face.

"Doctor, the morphine?"

"I-I don't know why he's awake." She responded, clearing her throat to reassert her authority, "Daniels, page"

The hospital receptionist walked up behind her and tapped her gently, "I'm sorry, someone's here for the boy, he-"

"That's him!" Tony yelled from behind, cutting through the confused staff and other injured people, "that's m-I need to take him."

The doctor looked past the nurse, frowning. "Take him? Sorry, he's been shot, he's a teenager and I've notified the police. You can't help him anywhere else."

"You can't help him here." He looked past the concerned woman and at Peter, who was trembling and squeezing his eyes shut. He took another look around the emergency room and then back at the doctor.

"What does that mean?"

"You tell me, you have a hundred people here, you're clearly short-staffed, it's a lawsuit waiting to happen." Tony nearly shouted.

The woman opened her mouth to speak but someone beat her to it, "if you can't take care of his needs, I don't see why he can't be transferred to a private facility."

Tony turned around to see an older man. The administrator? He controlled the urge to roll his eyes, "finally, someone smart."

"Mr Stark, couldn't miss your presence if I tried." He replied, signing off something and turning back to Tony. "I'm assuming you have something identifying him as a relative, or-"

"We do." Rhodey spoke from behind, and Tony was glad he did, because he hadn't thought of that. Rhodey passed on something, and that was it. There were a few nods and forced smiles, and then Peter was being rolled back out from the little corner he'd been stuffed into.

"Peter?" Tony called, hovering over him like a bee. "Kid, open your eyes." He said more adamantly.

Peter pushed his head back onto the pillow and just cried harder. He'd never been in that much pain before, and there were all these murmurs and shouting in the background that he really just wanted to ignore.

"Peter!" Tony shouted, and Rhodey looked at him in anger. Peter flinched, opening his eyes instantly. He couldn't tell if what he was seeing was real or not. "We found you, it's gonna be okay, we'll just take you back and fix you up."

Peter all but scowled, his hands flying to his stomach when he felt another pang of pain. Someone grabbed them.

"He's bleeding through the bandages." Rhodey said as matter-of-fact. Tony pushed back Peter's hair in comfort.

"Just a few minutes-"

"I got shot." Peter said between breaths. Tony kept one hand on his hair, "they-they shot me-" he screamed unexpectedly, his hands scrunching into fists.

Tony grimaced, "it hurts now, but you're gonna be fine."

"We'll take it from here." Tony gave him over to his medics and stood there outside the hospital, noticing all the little snaps of pictures being taken from all around him.

"A few days?"

"No. No, his healing factor's not working as well as we expected. He's in pain, and we're doing everything we can." Cho assured, patting Tony's shoulder before making her way down.

He sighed and brought his hand to the back of his head.

"I'll leave you two alone." Pepper said from behind. Tony had already forgotten she was there and nodded, heading inside the room.

He stared, still standing at the door. He felt more fear and anger build up than he ever had before.

Peter groaned, and Tony moved forwards in surprise. Was he supposed to be awake so soon? Peter squinted, his breaths getting faster.

"You're safe, little hero." Tony said sadly, taking a seat next to him and leaning forwards.

Peter slowly opened his eyes, his hands lightly touching the tubes around his face.

"They're to help you breathe. You're on a lot of drugs so there's some oxygen deprivation." Tony explained, grimacing . "How're you doing?"

"Good." Peter said, but it came out a lot quieter than he wanted.

"Really?" Tony asked rhetorically.

He didn't reply, just closed his eyes and turned his head, fidgeting and trying his hardest to not cry again.

"They can't give you more…found the one disadvantage to super healing, huh." Tony added when he saw. It was upsetting to see how much pain Peter was in, especially when he couldn't do anything about it.

"Yeah, we found one dish…." Peter whispered, his voice trailing off as he stared at the ceiling.

Tony waited for him to finish, sitting up in worry when he didn't. "You sleepy? You should sleep." He looked over the bed to see that his eyes were already closed. "I'll-I'll come back." He said, smiling awkwardly at the sleeping boy and getting up from the chair, nearly tripping as he stepped back.

He didn't go to sleep. That was the last thing he wanted to do. He'd left the room with guilt, and that guilt had only magnified by the time he got to the door of his room, which was why he'd turned back around and ended up in his workshop.

"The least you could've done was be in our room when I got home." Pepper said sadly, stepping down the few steps and looking at him.

He glanced at her, his head still resting on his hand on the table. "I got busy."

She walked over to him, standing opposite him and picking up the blue and red suit he had in front of him. "You couldn't have done that tomorrow?"

"It is tomorrow, speaking of, where were you?"

"You know what I mean, it's nearly four in the morning, and I was dealing with more of the hospital mess you kinda just left behind."

"You're the best, and nope, I needed to do it now."

"Tony, if you're going all destructive-"

"I messed up." He said, running his hand down his face. "

She sighed, "I'm sure he doesn't think that."

"Of course he doesn't, he's a good kid, he'd never say I made a bad-"

"Okay, how about we pack this up," she gestured to the suit and tools, "and talk about your failures as a parent later?"

"That's funny, but I was being serious."

"And I was kidding," she smiled, "kind of."

"Okay, let's go." He got up, looking at the suit one more time before following her out.

"How is he?"

"I don't know, he didn't really speak."

"That's normal though, right? Rhodey was saying they had to give him all these-anyway, he'll be fine soon." She said with certainty, brushing away her hair.

Peter woke up again around mid-day. The huge digital clock on the middle of the wall read 13:38. He squinted at it and then laid his head back again. He could hear the beeping of the machines next to him and feel the cool air of the oxygen tubes.

He was just about ready to pull the tubes out when the door opened. True, he was definitely expecting it to be Tony. It wasn't.

"Young man, how are we doing?" The doctor in the typical white coat asked.

"Y-yeah. I'm-" he broke off into cough, "okay."

She smiled, "don't you worry, you'll be up and Spidering around in no time."

Peter froze, "uh, what? I don't…"

"I was your doctor, it didn't take long to connect the dots."

Peter didn't say anything, just stared, and it must've showed nothing but fear because she spoke instantly again.

"It's not my secret to share so that's one thing you don't have to be worried about. But on the serious side, your injuries didn't heal as quickly as you'd expect, so you're going to be taking it slow for at least a few weeks. You'll be on oxygen for a few days and-"

"Let the boy breathe, Cho." Tony interrupted from the doorway.

She smiled again, "okay, I'll leave the rest of the talking to you." She said with a reassuring undertone.

She left the room and Tony walked forwards. "You look way better than yesterday."

"What?"

"Nothing. How's it going?"

"Yep, good. The doctor lady said it'll be alright in a few weeks."

"Yeah, does it still hurt?"

"Yep."

"You know who those people were?"

"No."

"Okay, I know you're…upset, but I couldn't have seen that coming. Obviously I wouldn't have taken-"

"I'm not upset."

"How did you end up in the hospital?" Tony asked, because that was next on the unanswered list of questions.

"I…got a lift."

"A lift? From who?"

"They left me near this-this building, because throwing me in a lake was a bad idea, and I took off all the Spider-Man things and went to the road and this car stopped to help and I told them to take me back to Queens, but they didn't listen."

Tony was glaring at him, mouth open and eyes wide. "A lake? Which building?" He looked away and nodded, "I was wondering where all that stuff went, how far away from the road were you?"

"What?"

"You heard."

"Why does that matter?"

"Because I said so, now answer the question."

Peter exhaled, "I don't-like fifteen minutes? I could see the cars."

"You walked for fifteen minutes?" He didn't sound worried, just really, really upset, and Peter could see that.

"No, I mean I took breaks, obviously, it wasn't that bad."

Obviously. "Right. How long did it take to make those glasses?"

"Why does it matter, Mr Stark?" He asked, tired of the random firing of questions.

Tony sighed again, for the fifth time during the conversation, "you ended up in a bad situation. You know, like a-a tiger that's just-"

"I'm gonna stop you right there, Mr Stark, because I can tell this isn't gonna make any sense."

Tony smirked, "that shouldn't have happened. Suit or not, it was a-", he nodded his head in anger.

"Don't feel bad."

Tony scoffed, "you're lying there with an oxygen tube and two bullet holes and you're telling me not to feel bad."

"Can you not tell May?"

"I already said that."

"I'm gonna be here for-"

"Car accident. We'll say you got into a car accident on the way back, but nothing serious."

"What if they come after me again."

"They won't. I'll catch them long before that. No patrolling for a month, that goes without saying-"

"What? No!"

"Yes. Listen to me this time. Just listen. All I'm trying to do is keep you safe. I can't be the reason you get hurt."

Peter stared, surprised, "no, well, you wouldn't have been the reason here."

Tony smiled, "everything you've done from the point I found out about you's been on me." He said, carefully choosing his words.

"That's not true."

"It's very true. Peter, just listen to me here."

He never called Peter by the first name, and he didn't sound so scared before. "Okay. Okay, I'll stop for a month."

"Well."

"You said a month."

"We can talk about that later. New phone, new, well upgraded, suit, I know where you are all the time."

"Well."

"That's not something we're negotiating. You're fifteen, you don't need to be hiding where you are." He said quickly.

"Thanks for bringing me here." Peter said, his voice taking a more serious tone.

"Always."

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