Peter tilted his head back and looked at the sky, wondering not for the first time in his life if he was cursed. Most people don't have luck this bad, and he's honestly getting sick of the luck that he has. He snorts and whispers Parker luck to himself before laughing uncontrollably. He thinks this might be shock because there is definitely no reason he should be laughing right now. He looks down again and groans, the tear in his suit is bigger than he thought that it would be and even though he had begged Karen not to notify Mr. Stark, he knew there would be no way the man wouldn't see the gaping hole in the suit. He winced when he thought of showing up for the next lab day with the suit.
He shakes his head, focusing on the main issue at hand which is that he had been stabbed. He knew that he had advanced healing, but he had never been stabbed before. He knew that he should probably have let Karen notify Mr. Stark, but he had panicked. He didn't know how to explain the situation to him without his mentor thinking he was some stupid, easily distracted kid.
He was trying to help a girl who was being mugged when his mind wandered to all of the homework that he had to do that night, as well as the questions that Michelle had assigned to practice for Decathlon practice and he knew that he should have been focused on the fight, but he had taken down a hundred muggers just the same. He had not however been stabbed by one of the hundred muggers. This was all new to him and he didn't know how long his healing would take to heal a stab wound, but he did know that he was losing a lot of blood and if he didn't stop it, he was going to pass out in this dirty alleyway.
He groaned as he hit his head on the wall behind him. He knew this was going to hurt like a bitch and he was not ready. He pressed his hand onto the wound, wincing as he bit into his lip to keep from screaming, this wasn't the best situation to be in and he didn't want some criminal taking advantage of him when he was down. He knew that he had to find a way to stop the blood flow long enough for him to swing home, but he wasn't too keen on the idea of spraying his webs directly onto the wound. He didn't know what the chemicals would do to an open wound, but with his luck it would just make everything worse.
He knew the alleyway with his backpack in it was only a few blocks away and after that it was only a ten-minute swing home. If he could make it to his backpack, he could use his shirt to cover the wound and use his webbing like tape. He gripped the wall and pulled himself up, tasting blood in his mouth as he bit his lip just a little too hard. He almost doubled over in pain as soon as he was standing, taking deep breaths as he shuffled forward, one hand pressed tightly against the wound, the other sliding along the wall helping him keep his balance.
The walk to the alleyway that contained his backpack was long and awkward, people staring at him as he tried to stay out of the way. When he made it to the alleyway he almost collapsed in relief when he saw that no one had stolen his backpack this time. He grabbed his shirt and cringed when he saw that it was one of his favorites and he briefly thought about just webbing up the wound, consequences be damned, but he knew that Mr. Stark was already going to kill him for damaging the suit, he didn't want to add getting an infection to the list of things he did wrong.
He would look up how to get blood out of shirts later, when he wasn't actively bleeding out. He pressed the shirt against the wound and sprayed just enough webbing to keep the shirt on. He wasn't looking forward to taking the shirt off, but he felt a little relief at the idea that the wound wasn't bleeding freely anymore. He crawled up the wall slowly feeling the wound pull with every move he made. When he made it to the roof, he thought about taking a break and just sitting for a minute, but then Karen reminded him that he had already lost a lot of blood and if he sat down, there was a good chance he wasn't going to get back up. He usually took a running start before swinging, but the thought of running when walking had been so difficult made his stomach roll. He looked up at the sky again before he started running and wondered just what he had done in a past life to deserve this.
Walking had been bad, but at least he could move slowly. Running was hell, the quick jolting movements pulling at the wound so hard he thought he was going to pass out. He felt the end of the roof under his feet and shot a web, and oh boy, swinging was just as bad as running. His arms stretched above his head and his whole torso screamed as the skin was stretched taut. His vision blurred and he hoped that the web he just shot connected with something and he knew that it had when he dropped a little and the fall was abruptly stopped by the swing and if he passed out in the air and fell Karen would have to tell Mr. Stark, and he was so close to home, so he breathed in and bit his lip and swung home.
The joy he felt when he saw the window to his room was so intense that he couldn't help but let out a whoop as he landed on the wall and crawled into his room. He only stumbled a little when he got into his room and crossed his room so that he could lock the door and collapse on the bed. He let out a sigh and threw off his mask before looking with disdain at the poorly wrapped wound. He gritted his teeth as he broke the webbing and peeled off the now blood-soaked shirt. He threw the shirt under the bed and hit the emblem on his chest and stepped out of the suit, pushing that under the bed with his ruined shirt.
He turned on the light and blanched at how bad the wound looked. He knew that it needed stitches, even with super healing he wasn't immune to blood loss and the wound was still leaking blood and it didn't seem like it was going to stop any time soon. The main problem he was now facing was that he didn't know how to do stitches, so he did what any teen would do. Wikihow was super useful and it was even more helpful when it came with pictures. He read through the articles and sighed. Stitches looked painful. He knew May had a super decked out first aid kit in the bathroom, so pushed himself off the bed and slowly walked to the bathroom.
He mentally thanked every god he could think off that May was a nurse and considered the first aid kits sold in stores child's play, instead making her own, stocking it with things from the hospital. He grinned when he found a suture kit, but immediately frowned when he thought about the pain. He opened the pack with his teeth and pulled out the needle and thread, wincing at how sharp the needle was. He turned on the shower just in case May was home and threaded the needle. Breathing in deeply he pushed the needle through to do the first stitch and his vision whited out and Peter nearly screamed. It was worse than he thought it was going to be. He felt tears slip down his cheeks as he continued to stitch himself up, wincing every time he punctured his skin.
When he finished, he tied off the thread and applied some antiseptic and taped a gauze pad over the top. He turned off the water and shakily got to his feet, gathering the trash from the floor before he shuffled back to his room. He hid the trash under his bed next to his suit and shirt and collapsed onto his bed, with a huff. He knew he didn't need to call Mr. Stark. He fell asleep, side stinging, but with a smile on his face.
The next time he was in the lab with Mr. Stark, his mentor noticed the hole in his suit and the look that he got from Mr. Stark after he told him that he had been stabbed, but really it wasn't that bad, no need to worry Mr. Stark caused him to let out a laugh. He laughed even harder when the man grumbled about heart problems and grey hairs.
The laughter stopped and the smirk that was on his face was wiped off, replaced with a frown when Mr. Stark grumbled something about updating Karen and the Baby Monitor protocol to notify him whenever he got hurt that bad again.