"How is he?" Steve asked.

Tony jumped. He hadn't heard the super soldier enter the room. As Steve leaned against the doorframe, Tony rubbed his red eyes and stood up for the first time in hours. Judging by the three empty coffee cups and Tony's unkempt demeanor, Steve deduced that Tony hadn't left Peter's side since Bruce had let Tony and May into the room.

The hospital room was small, but cozy. The walls were painted sky blue, white curtains were pulled back to let sunlight stream in, and Tony had paid good money to make sure Peter got all the blankets and pillows he needed. Actually, Tony had spent a verifiable fortune renting out a hospital room near the site of the disastrous gala, flying Helen Cho in to ensure that Peter got the best care imaginable, and getting dozens of bodyguards to make sure no one, reporters, fans, or enemies, could get to Peter. Not that that was such a concern considering all of the Avengers were either nodding off in the waiting room or in a hotel next door.

"Not bad. Bruce and Helen fixed him up pretty good. They don't know when he's going to wake up, though," Tony said. "They both keep saying that I just need to be patient and let his healing factor and the medicine kick in instead of actually talking about how messed up he still is."

"Where's May? I thought she'd still be in here," Steve said. Her chair to Peter's left had her coat and purse, but was currently unoccupied.

"I convinced her to go back to the hotel. The doctors don't think Peter is going to wake up today anyways, so she might as well get some sleep," Tony said, pouring himself a glass of water from the sink.

"Maybe you should get some sleep too," Steve suggested, knowing Tony would do no such thing, but couldn't stop himself from trying

Tony slowly turned off the faucet and set his glass down. He wasn't facing Steve, but Steve knew Tony well enough to know that he was trying hard to not cry. Tony was not a weepy person. His crappy life had toughened him up considerably, but seeing Peter hooked up to a bunch of machines and covered in bandages was too much for him to handle. Steve knew that Tony was blaming himself for Peter's injuries since they were the only two Avengers at the gala and it was therefore his responsibility to look out for his teammate and he didn't know what he could possibly say to convince Tony otherwise. He never seemed to say the right things to Tony.

"I don't need sleep. I need to stay with Peter."

Steve sighed. "Tony, one of us can stay with him if you're worried about him waking up alone. You need to take care of yourself."

"Cap, I don't even take care of myself on a good day. You don't need to hover over me," Tony insisted.

Steve wished that Pepper could be here to talk some sense into her husband, but she was stuck dealing with the media backlash over the gala. So many people had been hurt and killed, but that wasn't what everyone was buzzing about. No, the hot gossip was that Tony Stark's remarkable intern was actually Spider-Man, the newest Avenger.

Natasha, Wanda, and Tony had been so busy trying to load Peter into the ambulance that they hadn't realized how many reporters had snapped pictures of Peter still in the suit, but with the mask off. None of them had realized what happened until they saw the news playing on the TV in the waiting room. By then it was too late. The whole world knew Peter Parker was Spider-Man.

The governments of the world were in uproar that the Avengers had a so called child soldier. The people were furious that they had been hiding Peter's secret under the thin disguise of a Stark intern without anyone catching on. The media was camped out in front of the hospital trying to get statements from anyone, Avenger, doctor, or janitor, about Peter's well-being. Worst of all was the crying of May Parker as she realized her and Peter's lives had fundamentally changed.

"I'll bring you some food," Steve said.

"You don't have to do that."

"I'm not going to just sit idly by while you waste away," Steve snapped. "After you eat, I'm dragging your ass back to the hotel for sleep and a shower. Then you can come back."

"And what if I object," Tony said, raising his arm to show off his wristwatch repulsor combo.

"Not even you would fight me at Peter's bedside."

Tony couldn't deny it. He sat back down in his chair, looking even more haggard than he had when Steve entered the room only a minute ago, if such a thing was possible. Steve cast one more worried look at his friend before shutting the door.

Peter's nose twitched.

Peter wasn't awake by any means, which he himself could tell. He was in the state of semi awareness between being asleep and awake where it was his choice whether or not to open his eyes. His limbs felt heavy, his mind unbearably slow, but his nose was driving him insane. The sharp scent of chemicals and antiseptic assaulted his sensitive nostrils, causing him to sneeze himself into consciousness.

"Peter?" A male voice asked apprehensively.

Peter tried to open his eyes but the task proved to be herculanean. It seemed as if they were glued shut for all they budged. Peter was tempted to drift off again, which would be quite easy in his weakened state, but the desperation in the man's voice ensured that Peter would continue his efforts. Slowly, Peter opened his eyes.

He winced. The light was dim, but his eyes were used to the darkness from the back of his eyelids. The room around him gradually came into focus. A plain white ceiling, a blue blanket covering him from the neck down, medical devices hovering around his head like odd science fiction creations, and a man sitting to his right, his brown eyes wide with hope.

"Tony," Peter croaked. His throat rebelled against the action by means of a short coughing fit.

"Are you actually awake this time?" Tony asked, leaning forward in disbelief.

This time? Peter couldn't remember waking up at any other point. The more he thought about it, the more disconcerted he became. He couldn't seem to remember much leading up to the present, especially what had happened to him that called for a hospital. His wounds usually healed in hours, if not minutes. Medical treatment had been unnecessary since the spider bite.

Peter tried to speak again, but all that came out was a raspy cough. Tony got up and began to walk away, radically raising Peter's heartbeat, but only went the sink in the back off the room. He filled a flimsy paper cup with water and set it down on the table next to Peter's bed.

"The doctors said you'd probably be thirsty when you woke up. Do you feel good enough to sit up?" Tony asked.

Peter nodded, unable to speak.

Tony helped Peter sit up slightly. Peter grimaced as his sore, beat up body protested the sudden movement. Once he was relatively well situated, Tony handed him the water. Peter's hand shook slightly, but he was able to drink the entire cup. The cool liquid soothed his scratchy throat.

"May is going to be so mad she missed this," Tony said as Peter drank. "She went to the bathroom only a minute ago. First time she's left your side in hours."

Judging by Tony's ragged appearance, he was willing to bet that Tony hadn't left his side in hours either. Luckily for Tony, Peter was still too hoarse to comment on this.

"I should probably get the doctors. You healed up pretty good on your own, but better safe than sorry," Tony said. "I'll send Bruce in so you're not alone, but the doctors don't want any of the other Avengers hovering. Apparently we've been problematic."

Peter didn't doubt that. The Avengers lost all common sense whenever their teammates were injured or in danger. Peter was growing frustrated though. He still couldn't piece together what precisely happened. He remembered going to the gala and fighting the men dressed in black, but not what got him hospitalized.

"What happened?" Peter asked, his voice cracking horrendously, but his words were understandable.

"You don't remember?" Tony asked. Peter shook his head. "When you went to the foyer, one of the men you were fighting activated a bomb. We found you buried beneath the rubble nearly half an hour later."

"How bad am I?"

"All of you broken bones, bruises, and cuts healed. The only reason you didn't wake up sooner was because you took a big hit to your head. Another concussion to add to your record. Bruce did say you might not remember the explosion," Tony rambled. He shook his head. "Doctors. I need to get the doctors."

Tony walked out of the room, but paused in the doorway. He stood there for a moment as if having an internal debate before turning around.

"I'm really glad you're awake, kid. You were really starting to scare me," Tony admitted.

"Wait, how long was I out?"

It couldn't have been too long, right? The Avengers would have moved him back to the Facility if it had been more than a few days. They hated staying away from their home for extended periods of time, with the exception of Tony, who liked vacationing in super expensive locations. But maybe they wouldn't move him if they worried it might cause a setback in his recovery.

"Three days."

"Three days," Peter repeated faintly. He felt lightheaded.

Tony looked at him sympathetically. "That sounds bad, but the doctors were theorizing you could be out for weeks. It's honestly a miracle that you're even alive."

"Pepper," Peter said suddenly. "What happened to her? Is she okay?"

"She's fine," Tony assured him. "Happy found her and made sure that she was safe. The doctors fixed her up in minutes. She's not here right now, though. She had business elsewhere."

Peter nodded. He understood that as CEO of Stark Industries, Pepper didn't have time to stay in a hospital for three days, waiting on the off chance that Peter might wake up. A brief lull of silence ensued during which neither of them quite knew what to say, but weren't ready to part.

"Tony," Peter began to say, but then faltered. How would he even phrase his concern?

"It's just us," Tony said, shutting the door. He knew Peter well enough to tell what was on his mind.

Peter bit his lip. "At the gala . . . did I kill anyone?"

Tony smiled. "No one. All of the men you fought on the upper deck lived, as did the ones you trapped in the stairwell. The only ones who you fought who died were killed in the same explosion that landed you here."

Peter let out a shaky sigh of relief. "Thanks for telling me."

"No problem, kid. Now I better get those doctors before May comes back and refuses to leave," Tony said, stepping out into the hall again. "Just try to take it easy, okay?"

Peter grinned. "Okay."

The scene in the waiting room was hysterical. No one would believe it if they didn't witness it with their own two eyes. Earth's Mightiest Heroes were sprawled out in small waiting room, munching on hospital food, and trying not to nod off. To the everlasting credit of his team, Tony was proud to say that not a single one of them had left the city since they arrived. They rejected all of their mission offers and cancelled any other events they might have planned. All of them were determined to be there for Peter.

Clint was napping with his head on Natasha's lap as her and Bruce conversed quietly. Steve was sketching in his notebook near the window, which Tony found brave considering the dozens of eager reporters camped outside the building. Wanda and Vision were reading side by side in the corner. Rhodey was speaking softly on the phone to Maria Hill about a mission he needed to delay. Bucky and Sam were as far away from each other as they could get while still being on the couch closest to Steve. Both of them were on their phones, ignoring the other's existence pointedly. Tony idly wondered what stupid argument they had gotten into this time.

"Tony?" Steve asked in disbelief. Everyone else's heads snapped up to look at the billionaire.

Steve set down his notebook and gaped at Tony, amazed that he left Peter's room of his own accord. Everyone else had been bringing him food and took turns ushering him back to the hotel to sleep, shower, and change his clothes. Naturally, everyone assumed the worst. Natasha shook Clint awake so he would hear whatever news Tony brought.

"Is Peter alright?" Steve asked.

Tony looked dazed. "He's awake."

Before anyone had time to react to Tony's announcement, a doctor rushed into the room. "Dr. Banner, we need your assistance. You understand his physiology better than even Dr. Cho."

"Of course," Bruce said, following the doctor out of the room.

"How was he?" Natasha asked as Clint sat up.

"Okay, I think. I mean, he was stiff, sore, and a little confused, but he was talking pretty clearly by the time I left," Tony said, sitting down near Rhodey. "He doesn't even remember the explosion itself."

"Where's May?" Wanda asked, realizing that May should have been kicked out with Tony.

"She might still be in the bathroom. She's going to be so pissed when she finds out she missed him waking up," Tony said.

"I'm going to go check on her. She needs to know that he's awake," Wanda said, getting up. Vision bookmarked her page and set down her book on top of his.

"What did you tell him?" Steve asked, tossing his sketchbook aside.

"I told him that he was out for three days, that Pepper was fine, what happened at the gala, and how badly he was hurt," Tony listed.

"And?" Natasha prompted, sensing that he was omitting something.

"Peter wanted to know if he killed anyone," Tony said, fiddling with his watch repulsor. "He didn't, and I told him that, but you should have seen how scared he looked when he asked."

"Poor pauk," Natasha murmured.

"Did you tell him that the whole world knows he's Spider-Man now?" Steve asked.

"I didn't feel like putting that burden on him right now. We'll tell him when the doctors clear him."

"We'll have to considering all the cameras outside are for him."

"Boys, we can worry about that later. All that matters is that he's alive and going to make a full recovery," Natasha said sternly. She liked focusing on the here and now, the variables she could control or manipulate.

Tony smiled, the first time his teammates had seen him do so in three days. "Yes, he is."