HAHAHA PSYCH! I GOT CHA! It's actually an unplanned triple update…..(I'm not kidding, I even got myself, this was not planned, it never is, I'm a terrible human being….)

It took Peter a week to wake up. They took him off the ventilator after two days, and by they, that means Rita and a nurse who was not allowed to know the full extent of Peter's injuries. Normally, a person with his injury wouldn't be alive, and if they were, would either be a vegetable, or not even close to being off the ventilator and waking up, meaning no one who had any sort of knowledge of the full extent of Peter's injuries could know how fast he was healing.

Speaking of healing, the external injuries healed within five days, fully healed, leaving only puckered flesh where the bullet entered, and some scars from where he had to be opened up in order to properly repair the internal injuries. Internally, he was nearly healed, but the shatter rib and damaged lung and heart needed a bit more time to be 100 percent, which was understandable. Neither May nor Ned knew that Peter was almost fully healed already, and they couldn't, because anyone with half a brain could guess that there was no way a normal human could heal completely after a week or two, especially from a gunshot wound like Peter's. This meant only Tony, Rita, and Happy knew.

Ned was allowed back on day three, when he was no longer sick and contagious. He and May rarely left the room, and when one would, the other would stay. Tony pretty much remained in the room as well, only leaving to make some calls or deal with something happening. On the fifth day, he was called away for a mission, and on the night before he woke up, he arrived at the hospital, exhausted, but determined to see Peter.

He noted that both May and Ned were either asleep, or very close to it, and looked like they hadn't left the hospital in days, which they might not have. So, he convinced Ned, who was barely awake, to follow Happy, who was wheeling a sleeping May to a car to take both home for some proper food, rest, and showers. This meant that Tony was left alone, after visiting hours, hoping that Peter would wake up soon. As soon as he sat in the chair he pulled up beside Peter's bed, he nodded off, head lolling back and arm dangling over the arm of the chair.

He woke up to the sound of a heart monitor beeping frantically. It wasn't even a gentle wake-up, it was more of a sudden jolt of panic upon hearing the steady beeping become ecstatic. Tony opened his eyes, wiping away the sleep as he saw Peter looking around, eyes wide, panic on his face. He locked eyes with Tony, freezing.

"Kid, hey, you're okay, listen to me, you're fine. You're in a hospital, you were shot, do you remember?" Peter nodded slowly, slowly leaning back against the bed, which was raised to allow Peter to sit up at an angle. The beeping was slowly coming back down to a manageable rate and Tony leaned forward, holding Peter's hands down so he couldn't continue picking at the tape that held the IV's in his arms.

"Dry," was all Peter could choke out, and it was more of a pitiful croaking sound than a word. Rita walked in a second after, a cup of ice chips in her hand. She handed it to Peter, who took a few in his mouth, smiling gratefully at the doctor before his face fell into it's panicked look again.

"Tony, does she, do they, Tony please, what, did they," Peter stammered, unconsciously distancing himself from Rita and shifting towards Tony, who was a bit shocked by the fact that the kid called him Tony, before he realized what Peter was trying to say.

"Kid, listen, Rita knows about the whole web design thing. She signed an NDA though, nondisclosure agreement. That and she's now one of the SHIELD approved surgeons, and a good one at that. No one else knows, and they won't know. We're going to be doing some interesting playing around for the next month or so." Peter looked at Tony strangely. Rita decided to answer.

"Since your healing factor is so enhanced, your wound has already healed itself externally, and it's almost healed internally as well. There's something I want to check on, a couple things really, but that can wait. If you didn't heal like you do, you'd be dead. There was a very minimal chance that you would survive if you didn't heal as fast as you do. Even if you happened to remain alive, you'd most likely still be unconscious and healing, and definitely not as lucid and healed as you are. Now, I can pass the waking up part off as something incredibly unlikely to happen, along with how miraculous your survival was of the wound you received, but the fact that you're already mostly healed, not so much. This means that you're going to have to pretend that you're still injured for a while, until I deem you 'fit' and 'healed'. I hope you can do that, but from what I hear, you're a terrible liar. If necessary, I can always somehow drug you unconscious again, making it last a bit longer, but I'd rather not." Peter looked at Tony with wide eyes. The man merely shrugged and Peter groaned, putting his hands on his face.

"You're the one who wanted to play hero kid, can't blame us," Tony said, raising his hands in surrender when Peter gave him a murderous glare. "Speaking of playing hero, don't do that again. If you do, I swear to God I will murder you myself, or your aunt will. Seriously, do not piss that woman off, she's terrifying, almost as terrifying as Pepper," Tony said with a cringe, causing Peter to roll his eyes and give a soft chuckle before staring at his hands, which were resting in his lap.

"There are a few things I need to determine before I head out, okay Peter?" Peter looked at his surgeon and nodded. "Well, first of all, when the bullet entered your chest, it hit your rib, causing it to splinter and shatter, some of the pieces entering you heart and lung. Your lung collapsed, but we were able to get all of the pieces out of both your lung and heart, both of which are almost healed. The bullet, while kept from your heart thankfully, managed to get lodged between your T5 and T6 vertebrae of your spinal column." Peter's eyes widened again as he looked between the doctor and Tony.

"What?"

"I'm going to ask you to close your eyes and turn your head towards the ceiling so you can't see what I'm doing or when I'm doing it. I just want you to tell me if you feel something." Peter nodded, doing as Rita asked. There was tense silence as Rita ran a tool, something that looked like a pen, but with a poky wheel at the end, along the bottom of Peter's foot. For a moment, Tony nearly flipped out, but then as Rita moved the tool a little further up the kid's leg, Peter gave a happy mutter of he could feel something. Rita moved from the right side to the left, doing the same process. It took until a little farther up, a little below his left knee, before he acknowledged feeling something.

"I thought I could feel something on the bottom of my feet, but it wasn't really anything until further up," Peter admitted, looking utterly relieved, but also terrified at the same time. "Does that mean I'm not going to be able to walk again?" Rita pursed her lips, putting the tool away.

"It's actually a good sign that you can feel anything below your waist. The fact that you thought you could feel something at the bottom of your feet, even though you didn't know I was touching there, gives me hope that you will be able to walk again. It's possible there's swelling around your spine, causing partial paralysis that could clear up, but even if it doesn't, with your healing and the fact that you can still feel your legs and feet gives me hope that you will be able to get back on your feet again. I will do everything I can to help."

"Thank you," Peter said, feeling extremely drained, mentally and emotionally. He was freaking out as soon as she mentioned his spine being injured, but knowing he can feel below his waist, no matter how slight the feeling was, allowed him a breath of relief.

"I also want to check on your memory, just as a slight precaution. Any patient that's unconscious for an extended amount of time needs to be checked over memory wise."

"I can remember things just fine Ms. Doctor lady, I'm alright."

"You can call me Dr. Orrow, hon, or Rita if you wish. I trust that you memory is fine, so I'll skip over those questions and such. Tell me, how many fingers?"

"Three."

"Alright, can you follow my finger with only your eyes?" Peter did so with no problem. Rita took out a penlight and clicked it on.

"Okay. I'm just going to take a quick look in your eyes," Rita said, shining the light in the teen's eyes, causing the boy to flinch slightly at the brightness. Peter blinked rapidly, trying to clear the spots from his eyes once the doc finished her exam.

"Well Peter, I can't see anything wrong with your memory or eyes. Your ears seem to be working alright, and you can speak. I wasn't too concerned about any of that, but it's a standard thing to do." Peter gave her a smile before he looked at Tony, who was looking at him with narrowed eyes. Peter's gaze drifted to his twiddling thumbs and Rita nodded slightly, knowing that there was something unspoken drifting about the room.

"I'll give you two some space and let you know when your aunt and friend return, just in case." With that Rita left, shutting the door, leaving the two in silence.

"What were you thinking kid?"

"I was trying to keep Allen from making a mistake," Peter mumbled. "Load of good that did," he said quietly, mentally curling in one himself, and doing it somewhat physically as well, hugging himself tightly. "Now three people are dead." Tony raised an eyebrow at the kid's way of saying it.

"Peter, listen, as much as I hate the fact you decided to play hero without Spidey, you saved lives kid. Who knows what Allen would have done if you had allowed that kid, Flash was it, to be shot? Who knows what he would have done if you hadn't gotten in his way? You saved at least one life kid, you're a hero."

"I was a hero."

"Yeah, but now Peter Parker is a hero. I mean, the press have been trying to get information on you since you were brought in. They were banned from the hospital, but they keep trying to get in. Whether you like it or not, you're in the spotlight right now." Peter groaned, leaning back.

"Why?" Tony furrowed his eyebrows.

"Why? That's what you're asking? Why are you the center of attention for staring down the business end of a gun to save a fellow student, getting shot in the process, yet surviving? Why are you famous for protecting students and teachers alike from possibly being gunned down? Why are you a hero for protecting the rest of your class from a mentally unstable shooter? Seriously kid?"

"YES! I'm not kidding Tony! Why am I considered a hero for saving one kid, and nearly getting myself killed in the process. I couldn't stop Allen from shooting Mrs. Elis, or Isaac, or, or himself," Peter choked out, burying his head in his hands. "I couldn't save three people, so why am I a hero?"

"Kid, seriously, I get that you're all humble and stuff, but this is going a bit too far."

"Mentally unstable?"

"What?"

"That's what they're calling Allen? Mentally unstable?"

"Yeah, and psycho, and crazy, and insane, and a hell of a lot of other bad things because who in their right mind takes a gun to school and then proceeds to shoot three people before killing themselves?" Peter just stared at Tony, who stared back, realizing he probably said something that he shouldn't have.

"He wasn't. Yes, he might have been slightly disturbed, but he was mentally ill. Flash had bullied him, like, really bad, and Allen felt he didn't have any other choice. He's a good kid, just didn't know how to deal with things the proper way. I tried talking to him, tried to get him to put the gun down, but I couldn't save him," Peter said, his eyes watering. "He was just a kid, like me."

"Peter, that kid was not like you."

"Yes he was Tony. We were in math together, different grades, but," Peter said, pausing, biting his lip. He really didn't want to tell Tony about anything. He knew that the man would try to do something about it, probably making everything worse, which wouldn't be good.

"But what Peter?"

"Just forget it, okay?"

"Peter-"

"I said forget it Tony," Peter cried, emotions flooding his system. Tony opened his mouth, reaching for Peter to try to comfort the boy, but pulled back when Peter shifted away. "I'm feeling kind of tired so if you don't mind I'd like to get some sleep." Tony sat still, frozen. Well, until Peter turned and glared at him.

"Leave Tony." The billionaire wasn't sure what else to do, so he clenched his jaw, stood stiffly, and walked out of the room, shutting the door softly.

"I'm taking that it didn't go so well," Happy said, causing Tony to jump.

"Jeez Happy, give a man a warning will ya? Aren't you supposed to be with May?"

"She's passed out cold, no waking her anytime soon. Ned's passed out on her couch. Didn't see fit to wake either one, so I let Ned's mother he was staying with May before coming back here to see how you were holding up. I take it the kid's up, and that you had a talk, and he kicked you out?" Tony narrowed his eyes before nodding.

"How much did you hear?"

"Nothing, I just figured that's what happened. Happens on shows, in books, in movies; seems to be a common theme. Figured there might be some truth to it," Happy said with a shrug. Tony pinched the bridge of his nose.

"I don't know what to do with him."

"I'm sure you'll figure it out boss."

"I don't know Hap, I don't know if I will."

"It might take time, but Peter can't hold a grudge, he's too nice," Happy said, sneering the word, but the gentle smile on his face got rid of any hate hidden behind it.

"You got that right. Kid's heart is going to get him killed."

"If you're not around, it might."

"What do you mean?"

"You give the kid structure and discipline, a father-figure if you will. Sure he had a father-figure, but the keyword is had. I feel bad that the kid lost both his father, and his uncle, but he has you now."

"I'm no father."

"I've gathered, but like it or not, that's what you act like around Peter."

"No, I'm just mentoring him." Happy looked at Tony, who twitched his nose in annoyance.

"Seriously, I'm not the kid's father-figure."

"Like it or not, you are."

"Am not."

"Are too."

"Am not."

"What are you, five?"

"I know you are, but what am I?"

"Jesus Christ it's like I'm talking to a toddler."

"I take no offense."

"Didn't think you would boss."