"Go get his blanket, would you? I think it's in the cupboard." May fluttered around the room, fretting over her nephew, as he lay asleep in the bed. Of course, calling a coma 'sleep', was generous, in Ned's opinion, but he wasn't about to correct her.

He stood from his seat next to Peters bed. "Sure."

He retrieved the blanket and handed it back to May, who took it and shook it out over Peter.

"There you go, baby. All nice and warm." She tucked him in, careful of his breathing tube and various lines.

Ned sat back down, taking Peters hand, as he watched May stroke a finger over that pale cheek. Her voice was soft, as she smiled.

"Can you hear me, Peter? Dr Strange said you're getting stronger. Your heart is healing, and you're starting to push back against the vent. That's good!"

She sighed, shoulders slumping. "I miss you so much."

It had been a few days, and Ned agreed with her wholeheartedly. His parents had let him stay for the weekend, under the premise he was at a sleepover, but now that he had school he could only spend his afternoons by his best friends side.

It was hard, trying to pretend everything was fine, while people continuously asked him where Peter was.

M.J didn't believe his excuse that Peter was sick, even though it was technically true, if not a massive understatement.

He missed his best friend, and he couldn't help but worry about him while he was at school. What if something happened to him while he was away?

He was becoming as big of a mother hen as May and Tony.

Unfortunately, it wasn't the first time he'd seen Peter badly hurt, and he doubted it would be the last. He hated Spider-Man for it if he was being honest. He hated that his best friend had to endure so much pain, but he was also immensely proud.

He kept up a steady stream of chatter for Peter when he went to visit; trying to give him comfort while in the coma. Although he didn't know if he could hear him.

"Hey, man. Michelle asked about you again today. I don't think she buys the flu excuse, but that's what I keep telling her. I wonder what she'd say if she knew the truth."

Peter was still on the vent, and Ned tried to ignore the hiss of the oxygen being forcefully pumped into his best friends lungs.

"Did you know you have a wizard for your doctor? It's kind of funny, although I don't think he went to Hogwarts. I asked him about it and he said it's not really magic, and that he's just harnessing the energy of the universe or something. So, maybe he's more like a Jedi. Tony said that Bruce is okay, but no ones seen him since the attack. I heard Captain America talking about it; he sounded worried. Just, get better soon, okay? I know you worked really hard already and saved everyone in the city from The Hulk, but I think we could all really use you right now."

…..

Peter was...somewhere. It was quiet and safe, and he liked it there. Although it was strange feeling so untethered, and alone, and he was glad when the voices came.

"There we go, there's my handsome man. The bruises are healing over his cheeks too, look at that."

May. He'd missed her.

He could feel her brushing his hair, while a different pair of hands stretched out his arm, and ran something soft along it. He could feel warm water on his skin, and it felt nice. But why was his arm so heavy?

"He usually has more of a curl to it. You know he'll complain about it being so flat."

That was Tony. He must have been the one carefully cleaning Peters' arm. His strong, callused hands, held Peters so gently and his tone was light with teasing. Peter had missed him too.

Mays' voice was warm. "His hair used to be so curly when he was little. He looked like a little cherub, with those big eyes of his."

She sighed, and Peter felt her warm hand on his cheek, thumb gently moving over his skin. "I hate it when he's asleep like this."

Peter didn't quite know what was happening, but he knew that 'sleep' was not the right word.

Tony's tone was softer. "I'm just glad the tube is finally out. He looks more like himself, now. They'll wake him up soon."

Peter didn't want them to sound so wistful and melancholy, and he used all his strength to curl the fingers being cradled in Tony's palm.

The warm cloth on his arm stopped moving, as he heard a soft breath being released.

"Peter?"

And then he was gone again.

…..

Tony didn't bother knocking before walking into the wrecked lab.

Bruce had fixed what he could but didn't want anyone else coming in, so most of the space remained in its sad state of disrepair.

The doctor turned slightly at his approach but didn't look at him. Tony spoke first, noting the uneaten meal he'd sent him the previous night.

"You can't keep doing this, Bruce. It's not healthy."

The man's shoulders were tense, as he hunched over his work, back to his friend.

"You think I care?"

Tony sighed and rubbed a hand over his forehead. "He's healing, just like he always does. No one blames you. We just want you back."

He flinched as Bruce slammed his hand down on the table, making his equipment rattle. "That's not true!"

"Yes, it is. It wasn't your fault that some asshole decided to attack our home." Tony stepped closer, seeing the screen on Bruce's workbench, playing the security footage of the fight, over and over again.

He stormed over and picked up the device, turning it off, as his voice grew hard. "I told you to stop watching that. There's no need to punish yourself. It wasn't you."

Bruce finally turned around, eyes furious, and his hands clenched into fists in an attempt to keep himself under control. He gestured to another screen beside his tools, one that displayed Peters vitals and scans. "How is he supposed to know that?! He's not even awake!"

Tony tried not to take offence to that and clenched his jaw. "He will be. And he wouldn't want you doing this. He loves you."

Peter was so full of love, and Tony knew that he thought of Bruce as an uncle and that Bruce, and anyone else the teenager encountered, couldn't help but love him back.

Bruce turned around again, shaking his head. "He shouldn't. I don't deserve it."

Tony's heart hurt for his friend, but he knew there wasn't much else he could do. He took the untouched food and left, hoping that Bruce came to his senses on his own.

…

Ned gently lifted Peters arm into his sleeve, being careful with the heavily bruised limb. The teenager had finally woken up the previous morning, but he was still slow and confused about a lot of things.

Ned had been worried the first time it had happened, and although it was unsettling to see the young genius so out of it, he was used to it by now. And he'd remained patient, as he answered the same questions over and over.

"Where are we?" Peters' eyes blinked tiredly as he looked around, unable to help much as Ned carefully pulled his shirt on for him.

"We're in Stark Tower, in your room. We've been here a week."

Peters eyebrows creased as he took in the room. There were flowers on the desk in the corner, cards lined up beside it, and a small Iron Man plush sitting up amongst them. Gifts from the worried Avengers.

He sounded young and sleepy, although he'd slept most of the morning away already. "I'm hungry."

Ned shook his head, pulling his friend's shirt down to cover the slowly healing bruises on his skin, before starting on the buttons.

"No, you're not. You just ate."

Peter barely heard him, spotting a jelly cup on the tray table beside the bed. "I wanna try the green one."

Ned smiled, as Peter rolled his head across his pillow, to eye the treat.

"You don't like the green one."

Peter frowned, patting his clumsy hand on the other boy's chest, only just realizing there was a cast, encasing the limb. "I wanna try it! Why is this on my hand?"

Ned didn't want to have to explain the fight again, and decided to choose the lesser evil, retrieving the jello and a spoon.

"Okay, but don't say I didn't warn you. Although you'll probably ask for it again in about twenty minutes."

Peter stared at his cast, looking at the names scrawled over it, and little notes telling him to get better before his fleeting attention was taken by the wobbly green treat in Ned's hands.

He was still weak, and uncoordinated, and Ned helped curl his clumsy fingers around the handle of the spoon, before holding his wrist and helping him scoop up some dessert.

Peter took one bite and screwed up his face. "I don't like it."

Ned laughed, taking the jello away. "I warned you, dude! This is the third time we've done this."

Peter was tiring again, leaning heavily into his pillows as Ned put the cup away, out of sight, and therefore, out of Peters rattled mind.

"Where's May?"

Ned was happier to answer that one. "She's just picking up some stuff at home, for you. She'll be back soon. And before you ask, Tony is just down the hall and he's fine. Everyone is fine."

Peter watched his friends face, brain working just a little harder than it had been, and he finally asked a question he hadn't before. "Do I keep asking the same questions?"

Ned's eyes lit up, as a genuine smile spread across his face. "Yeah, but it's okay. I'm just glad you're talking again. It's not your fault. You got hit in the head really hard during the…" He hesitated, as Peters wide, curious eyes watched him.

"- during the last mission. Everything's okay though, you're getting better."

Peter just nodded, trusting him, just as he always did.

…..

"Don't push yourself too hard, let me do most of the work." Steve had his arm wrapped around Peters' waist, as he helped him walk with his brace on.

The pins had been taken out of his leg, and he was doing much better. So much so that Tony was hosting a little party for him, to celebrate his progress.

It had been a rough recovery period, with a lot of physical therapy and more than a few nightmares. And everyone was just relieved that they'd all be able to move past it.

Everyone except Bruce. He still hadn't left his lab, and Peter knew, from the whispers he heard from the other Avengers, that he was barely eating or sleeping.

As he healed, his memories got better, and he remembered what had happened with The Hulk. He was as worried about Bruce as everyone else.

Steve was helping him walk back to his room after he had ventured out so they could play video games together, but he paused in the hallway. Steve looked at him, worried when he stopped.

"You okay? Is your leg hurting? I can just carry you the rest of the way and we can get Strange to-"

Peter shook his head. "No, I'm okay. I just thought maybe I could go see Bruce?"

Steve paused, searching the teenager's eyes for any sign of fear. He had heard his nightmares and the screams that echoed through the tower at night. Everyone had. But it was always Hulk that he begged to stop hurting him, and Bruce that he asked to come back.

Steve nodded, and leant the kid against the wall, making sure he was okay to stand there by himself before he left. "I'll go get your crutches."

Peter wasn't entirely sure what he was going to say when he got in there, but he knew that he couldn't let Bruce hurt anymore, especially for something that wasn't his fault.

It was hard to move around, even with the crutches, and he quietly asked Friday to open the door for him.

Bruce stiffened at his voice, hands freezing over his work, but Peter didn't hesitate.

"Hey."

Those shoulders were tense, locked up tight in anxiety, as he faced away from the door.

He didn't say anything, so Peter moved closer, crutches clacking against the floor as he spoke. "I haven't seen you since that morning before the attack. Are you okay?"

Bruce's head bobbed a little as he nodded, voice quiet and rough when he finally spoke. "I'm okay. Peter...I'm so, so sorry for what happened."

He had known it was coming, but he still paused, choosing his words carefully. "I meant what I said, back then. When I was...saying goodbye. I don't blame you. You didn't have control over what Hulk did. It's not your fault."

Peter watched, heart heavy, as Bruce lifted a hand to his face, covering his eyes as his back rose and fell quicker with his rapid breaths.

He didn't say anything, so Peter filled the silence.

"I am...I am scared of him. But you're not him. I'm not scared of you."

Bruce couldn't hold his tears in anymore, and they slowly slipped down his cheeks as he turned to face the teenager. He searched the boy's eyes but didn't see the fear that he thought he would. There was just...calm and something like hope.

Peter winced as he moved, leg still painful to move on, and Bruce instinctively stood, reaching his hands forward to help, before hastily pulling them back.

He didn't know what else to say, other than 'sorry', again. So, he kept his mouth shut as Peter continued.

"You've been gone for ages. I missed you."

Bruce clenched his jaw. "I'm sorry. I didn't want you to have to see me."

Peter frowned, almost offended. His voice was adamant and unwavering. "I want to see you. We're friends right?"

Friends. Bruce smiled just a little, resolve crumbling. "Yeah. We're friends."

Peter nodded. "Cool, you can come to the party, then. May made a cake."

He was so casual about it as if there was nothing strange about inviting your attacker to a party, and nothing at all amazing about his complete forgiveness of Bruce.

He shuffled closer and smiled. "But Ned helped, so it's edible."

Bruce nodded and lifted a hand to wipe his eyes, as he closed the distance between them so that Peter wouldn't have to hurt his leg any further.

Peters' eyes were wide and careful as he reached out a hand, and Bruce sniffed as he did as he was asked and allowed Peter to hug him.

The teenager smiled as Bruce hugged him back, hands careful so as not to hurt him further. Peters' voice was muffled slightly, against his shirt.

"You'll come, right? You'll come back?"

Bruce nodded, breath shaking at the overwhelming emotions running through him, knowing that Peter was talking about more than just the party.

He had thought that Peter would be afraid to see him but it had been the other way around.

He had been the one afraid, and Peter was telling him there was no reason to be. And after everything, the least he could do for Peter was do what he asked and forgive himself.

He nodded, cheek brushing against Peters' hair. He had missed him too.

"Yeah, I'll come. I wouldn't miss it for the world."