"Lover." Felicia leaned casually against her doorway in a tight white t-shirt and low-rise jeans. She moved out of the way and beckoned him in.
He traipsed in, trying really hard to not look half-dead as he did so. The door closed behind him and Felicia's hands were on his shoulders, guiding him further into the apartment he knew all too well. Reaching the living room, he let his weight drop onto the couch. Felicia disappeared for a second and came back with a glass of white liquid. She put it in Peter's hands telling him to "drink up".
Peter eyed the ice cubes bouncing around, hitting each other and the side of the glass with a clack every few seconds. The glass was cold and droplets of condensation crept down its side, hitting his hand with a cold sting.
It felt like it was a million miles away.
"What is th's?" He slurred.
"Powerade. Cherry flavour, your favourite."
"Oh. Ha ha… cool." He smiled a little and drank it.
Once he was finished, Felicia took the glass from him and combed a hand through his hair. With a start, he realized she was sitting right next to him. Also he was leaning heavily against her. She was warm and soft and safe. Peter hummed happily.
"You're so good to me." His voice was a quiet murmur and his eyes were closed.
"You deserve it." Her hand guided his head into the crook of her neck while the other wrapped around his shoulder, squeezing him close. "What happened?"
"Mr. Stark."
"What was it about?"
"He… he apologized."
She took a second to plant a kiss on his head then murmured into his hair. "And you didn't want to accept?"
"I don't know." Bright neon spots bloomed and died in a repetitive pattern behind his lids. "It doesn't make it better."
"You don't have to forgive, you know. It's ok to not forgive. So long as it doesn't weigh on you."
"I… I think…. I think I want to… but I… can't. I don't feel like it'll change anything. He's still… maybe if I knew he would be different… but I don't."
"Mmm. I understand. You don't want to accept the apology if he's going to do it again. That's ok. That's valid."
"I wanna…"
"And you can when you're ready. Give yourself time."
Memories twisted through his mind like a fever dream. The good and the bad meshing together in delirium, cracking his chest open and burrowing into his heart.
"I…"
"Yes, Lover?"
"I don't feel so good…"
A pause. She shifted under him. "Talk to me, what's going on?"
"I don't…" He blinked. The world was far below him, stretching like a runner band about to break. His skin was white hot fuzz with no structure. Light, sound, and feeling all blurred together. "I don't feel…"
"Peter?"
The world drained away.
. . .
They both heard the sound of a window shattering in the hall.
"Fucking hell, we do not have time for this!" Stephen yelled, fuming at the premise of another attack by those fucking mutants.
Storming outside the lab, he came to a jarring halt at the sight. It was that Blackcat burglar standing among a floor of broken glass. Her body language was tense. Stephen's eyes landed on a boy who was thrown over her shoulders, as still as a sack of potatoes.
"He passed out. It was different this time. He feels cold."
Like a live wire zapping him back into motion, Stephen threw open a portal to the Medbay.
"What's going on, Stephen?" A tentative Bruce poked his head out of the lab door.
"Get back to work, Bruce!" Stephen snapped probably too sharply. "We need that cure now!"
When Stephen turned around, the Blackcat already had Peter laying on the bed and was removing his jacket. Stephen hurried through the portal and got to work. The Blackcat girl clearly knew her basic medical science and was surprisingly helpful. Half the time, she already had whatever Stephen needed before he even asked for it.
"He's not breathing right," she said after some time.
Stephen's jaw tightened. "I know. That's why we're prepping him to be intubated. Here, tape that IV down."
She stalled for only a moment before accepting the medical tape. Less than a minute later, the ventilator was ready to go. Stephen waved his hands and positioned it over Peter's mouth.
"I need you to put one hand on his forehead and one under his chin. Lean his-"
"-head back and hold it so it'll open up his throat allowing easier access to his trachea." She finished. She positioned herself. "Ready."
Stephen nodded and began. He inches the tube down slowly and with care. Not 2 minutes later it was in. With a couple directions from him, Blackcat got it stabilized in place. The hissing of the ventilator filled the silence. He pressed a stethoscope to the kid's chest, listening. It was working.
Stephen collapsed into a chair.
Coming down from the rush, Stephen had a second to look at the kid, lying there in a hospital gown, eyes closed, and with tubes sticking out everywhere. Blackcat had grabbed a warm blanket from the blanket heater and was now tucking it around him. She brushed a curl out of his face and planted a kiss on his forehead.
Stephen hadn't known the kid was dating someone new, much less a criminal. All things considered, she seemed like a good person. She definitely cared about him.
"How long does he have?" She asked, voice surprisingly steady although there was a hint of tightness.
"I'm not sure. A couple days at most."
She nodded.
The door to the room zipped open as Stark came barreling through it. His eyes were mad with panic and he zeroed in on Peter. He rushed to the kid's side, hands hovering like he wanted to do something, but didn't know what.
"He's stable," Stephen offered.
The man's eyes flicked to him then noticed the Cat. They furrowed. Blackcat held his gaze, her head tilting and her eyes curious, like she was seeing something in the man.
Stark's expression fell into a glare. "What the hell happened to him?"
"I might ask you that." She shot back.
Stark's face tightened and he looked away, re-focussing his attention on the kid. He felt his forehead.
"What happened?" Stephen piped up, aggravated beyond hell at the premise of them hurting the fucking kid. "What did you two do?"
"I didn't do anything." Blackcat scoffed and crossed her arms.
"We had-" Tony went quiet for a split second "-we had an argument."
"Oh for the love of- you couldn't've just kept it together for one fucking month?! Not one month!"
"Are you seriously trying to blame me for this?!" Tony scoffed. "The argument wouldn't've even happened if you hadn't FUCKED UP A YEAR AGO!"
"I'm doing EVERYTHING I can to save him!"
"SO AM I!"
Both men went quiet, glaring at each other and trying to fight the individual guilt eating away at their stomachs.
"If you're trying to save him, get down to the lab and. Do. It." Blackcat was staring them both down, a stern look on her face. "I will take care of him. I think both of you have done quite enough already."
Stark looked like he wanted to say something. He looked at Peter then at the Cat. Turning, he hurried out without a word, on his way to the nearest elevator.
"Dumbass," Stephen muttered and opened a portal directly to the lab like someone with an actual brain. He looked back at the Cat. "If there are any changes, tell FRIDAY. She'll get me."
She nodded once.
The golden ring closed around the sight of Peter lying half-dead. It was moments like this that Stephen didn't want an eidetic memory. There were some images he could live without seared into his mind.
. . .
They had abstained entirely from sleeping after that point. Tony hadn't even bothered pouring himself coffee for the precious seconds it would waste. HIs brain was walking the tightrope between panicked and focussed. He swore he was barely even breathing or blinking for minutes at a time.
He kept having FRIDAY give him updates on Peter every five minutes, regardless of whether or not there was any change. Normally, the world's biggest ass would've snapped and told him to 'put that distraction away', as he'd done with any music or news Tony had tried to put on the background over the past weeks, but this time, he stayed quiet. Whenever FRIDAY would chime in, Tony would catch the crane of the man's neck through his peripheral.
Once they hit the 37 hour mark, Tony was doing everything in his power to not blast the useless fucking equipment to smithereens.
Why wasn't anything working?!
For fuck's sake, Tony had an IQ of 270 - that was his power. Intelligence was how he could be a hero. So what was the FUCKING POINT of having this fucking power if he couldn't use it to SAVE THE PEOPLE HE FUCKING LOVED?!
"Hey, uh, T-tony?"
Tony ran a hand down his face and let out a long drawn-out sigh. He turned his head to see Bruce looking at him, expression small. "Yeah." Tony's voice was gruff and flat.
"Just- you look tired. Maybe it wouldn't be a bad idea to, y'know, take a break-"
"A break? Now?" Tony's voice was short and sharp, brimming with unchecked rage. "When my kid is seconds away from dying, you're telling me I should take a break?"
Bruce swallowed and stepped back. He wrung his fingers. "Just a sh-short one. I- I- I, uh, I think it'd do you some good." A pause. "You seem a little stressed…"
"YoU THinK?!"
"Stark." Stephen padded up. "Bruce is right, you need to sit down. You're not thinking right. I think… I think you should spend some time with Peter…"
"I'll have more than enough time to spend with him once I save him."
"Maybe… it's time to start considering the possibility that you won't."
"No!" Tony snapped, feeling anxiety spike through blood and burrow into his brain making him sporadic and jittery. "I am not letting him die! I don't care what I have to do!"
Bruce stepped forward again and tried to place a hand on Tony's shoulder, but the man jerked out of his grip. "Tony, we're not saying for sure we won't get a cure on time, but- but wouldn't it be better to prepare for the possibility…?"
"Both of you shut up before I-"
"Attempt successful." FRIDAY's words chimed from the ceiling making all three men freeze.
In unison, they turned to the DNA hologram in the centre of the room. The double helix spun slowly, hovering above the big table. The image reflected in Tony's glassy eyes. He blinked several times, wondering if his sleep deprived brain was lying to him.
The DNA strand was green.
"It worked," Tony breathed.
"Holy shi…" Stephen hurried to the table, grabbing the vial. "We have a cure."
"Thank god!" Bruce praised. "Now we c-"
"Give it to me." Tony grabbed at the vial, but Stephen jerked it away. "What are you doing?! We have to give it to Peter!"
"We can't yet."
Tony's heart stalled, struggling to understand what had just spilled from the doctor's mouth. "What did you just say? He- he could die any second. GIVE IT TO ME!"
"Stark, you don't understand-"
"No! You don't understand that I have messed up with him every. Step. Of. The. Way." He held Stephen's gaze. "I am not letting him die. I am not letting him die thinking he doesn't mean the world to me."
"I need a goddamn sample so I can replicate it! Give me one hour."
"HE MIGHT NOT HAVE AN HOUR!"
"Tony," Bruce piped up, voice tentative. "There are other mutants who're dying. If we don't have a sample, it'll take us at least three days to recreate the cure."
"I don't care." Tony reached for the vial again.
He was stopped by a rope of golden light wrapping around his wrist. His eyes met Stephen's, whose face was tense. "I'll be as quick as I can." He swept his hand and a broken wall of mirrors appeared behind Tony. It hit him and the lab disappeared.
. . .
"We got it!" Bruce snatched the vial and rushed it over to Stephen. "We've created a second sample!"
Stephen didn't hesitate to snatch the original vial and sweep open a portal to Peter's room in one swift motion. He all but tore open the far cabinet to get a syringe. He inserted it into the top of the vial and pulled the plunger back until it filled to the right line. He flicked the side several times, clear liquid squirting out the top as he squeezed out any air bubbles. Letting his magic take over, he guided it to the free IV line going directly to Peter's internal jugular vein. He injected it, liquid emptying into the catheter and into Peter's neck. He removed the syringe and set it aside, eyes watching the kid's vitals so closely they burned from not daring to blink.
Peter's vitals started stabilizing.
The relief washed over Stephen like a goddamn tidal wave.
He'd- they'd done it. After a month straight of working day and night, sacrificing meals and sleep, and doing all they could to suppress the shadows creeping closer and closer to their hearts with each passing second, they'd done it. They'd saved the kid. The world had been up in flames, swirling like a tornado for so long, and now it was all crashing down, leaving things a mess, but finally calm.
Peter was going to live.
Stephen collapsed into the chair, head falling into his hands. His heart swelled, his throat burned, and his eyes stung. He felt a single drop hit his knee and he ran a hand down his face.
Fucking hell. What a month.
Inhaling a long, shaky breath, he stood. With a wave of his hand, a portal opened, displaying a man sitting on a piece of rubble. Various parallel cities were suspended in the hazy yellow distance of the mirror dimension. Stark lifted his head, his hair was a mess like he'd been pulling at it, and his eyes had a wild, red look to them. He darted through the portal, looking ready to strangle Stephen before noticing Peter. He froze. He looked to the heart and oxygen monitor then at Stephen.
Stephen nodded once.
The look on Stark's face - a twist of fear, relief, agony, and joy - made Stephen's mind halt. He knew the man cared for the kid, but… this was the look of a parent who'd just gotten their child back.
Stephen decided to give Stark some time. He could see the man trying to stitch himself back together, one frayed thread at a time.
Besides, Stephen could take it from here. He would get FRIDAY started on mass-producing the cure. There were other mutants - other kids - out there waiting for it. His work wasn't done just yet, as badly as he wanted to finally go to sleep.
After an hour or so, he came back to find Tony still there. The man was looking more stable, although still tense, staring at Peter and surely waiting on bated breath for the first sign of movement.
Stephen nudged him on his way by, eyeing the O2 levels on the monitor. "Help me take his ventilator out."
The man startled like he hadn't heard Stephen come in. Taking a second to process what he'd been told, he nodded and pushed himself up. The process was slow and delicate, but he'd done it a million times already. Stark was looking pretty queasy and worried with every movement, however. A few minutes later, the ventilator was out and Peter was breathing fine on his own.
Removing his gloves, Stephen made the executive decision to go to bed. He desperately needed sleep. He would be sticking around the Tower for the night, still. Just in case.
Removing his gloves, he noticed Tony back in the chair. "Get some sleep, Stark. He won't be awake until tomorrow."
Stark didn't say anything.
Stephen left.
. . .
The sound of movement, as loud as a train in the silent room, stirred Tony awake. His eyes ripped open, finding the kid in an instant. Peter's eyes were drifting between open and shut. Tony was by his side in a second, brushing some of his hair out of his face.
"Kid?" Peter mumbled something incoherent, eyes staying open for a hair longer before drifting shut again. "You waking up?"
"Mmm" He blinked, rolling his head to one side then the other. "How'd I end up… Medbay…?"
"You passed out again. Longer this time."
"Oh…?"
Tony pulled up a chair, leveling his head with Peter's and smiling softly. "I have some good news."
Peter wasn't listening, currently scowling as he lifted his blanket. "Do I have a catheter in?"
"Uh, yeah, you were essentially in a coma for a few days."
"Coma…" he repeated, still scowling. "My throat hurts."
"You had a ventilator in."
"I… wha?"
Tony tilted his head, fondly regarding the kid. "Still feeling groggy?"
"Mmm."
"How 'bout I grab you some water and a pudding cup. How does banana flavour sound?"
"Ew."
The corner of Tony's mouth twitched. "Ok then, how about chocolate?"
"Chocolate!" The kid lazily threw his hands in the air, eyes closed.
"Chocolate it is."
When he came back in, the kid had the bed propped up so he was sitting upright. He was inspecting the back of his hand, picking at the tape holding the IV.
"Stop messing with that."
The kid raised his head, looking more cognisant now. He also looked more tense as Tony approached. Tony set the glass of water alongside the opened pudding cup and a spoon on the table, rolling it over the bed. Peter didn't move, eyes darting between the pudding cup and Tony like he wanted to eat it, but not with Tony there.
Tony internally sighed. From his perspective, it had been two days since he and Peter's talk, but to the kid, it had been no more than a couple hours.
Tony sat back into the chair, scrubbing at his face.
"I…" he started, already feeling like he wanted to throw up, "I didn't go because I was busy-"
"Wow." Peter scoffed.
"Let me finish. I was busy drinking myself stupid."
Peter side-eyed him. "…What?"
The man sighed, shoulders slumping. "When I found out about May, I… look, I don't handle guilt in a very healthy manner, so I drank. I have a… history with alcohol."
Pete blinked. "Weren't you on pain meds or something at that time?"
"Yes."
"Oh. That's not… that's not good…"
"Yeah, I know." The weight was clear in his voice. "Look, ki- Peter. I'm not making excuses, I should have been there. But I stayed home and drank. I was thinking of myself." He paused. "That's also why I… why I was keeping a distance from you afterwards. I felt like it was my fault, because I brought you into all this shi- stuff. And I.. I avoid my problems. Again, that's my issue, but I put that on you. I… I'm sorry. You needed me and I wasn't there. I was only thinking of myself."
Peter stayed quiet, mind churning. "I get it." His voice was meek even to his own ears. "It still hurts."
"I- I know. I'm sorry. I wish I could take it back."
"But you can't."
"No. But I can be here for you now- and I will be. I promise. I know I don't have the right to ask you to, but can you forgi-"
"You didn't bring me into all this."
Tony paused then made a face part way between guilt and sympathy. "Yes, I did."
"I started fighting crime before you met me, after you took the suit, and while you were in a coma. I chose this life for myself, Mr. Stark."
"Before I met you, you were helping old ladies find their way around Queens and sorta returning people's bikes. You weren't fighting evil super-villains."
"I would've been eventually. I found the Vulture guy all by myself, remember? And he was just the first one."
Tony sighed. "Idunno, kid. Regardless, I meant to protect you, not avoid you."
Peter chewed the inside of his cheek and looked away, thinking. "It's ok."
Tony made that face again and reached out, mindlessly running a hand through the kid's hair. "No, it's not. Look, kid, you don't have to pretend for my sake that you're not hurt. If you want to keep a distance between us, I… I understand."
"No. No, Mr. Stark. I don't- Look, I get it, ok?" He attempted a smile. "I forgive you."
"You don't have to-"
"I know."
"Kid-"
"Tony."
Tony paused, lips tugging a little. "I'll do better. I Promise."
Peter shrugged. "You're not so bad. Kind of a mess, but not so bad."
Tony exhaled in amusement and rolled his eyes playfully. Peter smiled.
There was a rapping of knuckles at the door, making both of them look over. Stephen walked in, a tense face visibly relaxing the second his eyes landed on Peter. "You're awake. Good."
He came up to Peter's side, all but shoving Tony out of the way. He checked Peter's vitals, taking note of his blood pressure, heart rate, oxygen levels, and whatnot. Each time he took notes, he nodded and made an (approving?) kind of grunt. After a couple minutes, he flashed a light in Peter's eyes, ignoring the 'gah!' Peter made in protest.
"Look left. Now to your right. Now at my ear. Ok other eye. Left. Right- keep looking right. My ear. Ok."
Then he took some blood from what Peter thought was an IV in his inner wrist, but was apparently an arterial catheter (?!). Apparently it was used to collect multiple samples of blood easily, making it so a doctor wouldn't have to poke their patient multiple times. Still gross though. Not as bad as when Peter realized there was an IV tube going into his neck! That was so freaking gross. And when Stephen took it out- oh god. It- hhhhhnnnnnngghhh. Peter was gonna throw up.
He was gonna throw up so hard.
He didn't.
But he almost did.
"And it's out!" Peter felt something wet spurt before a compress bandage was on it, applying firm pressure.
"And that's it for tubes!"
Thank god. It was a close 2-way tie as to which was the worst: neck tube or the, uh, urinary one. That one was awkward. At least Stephen hadn't had to really look while taking it out, but Peter didn't want to think about when he'd put it in.
Ugh.
So embarrassing.
"I still don't understand why it had to be in my neck," Peter grumbled and tentatively prodded at the big 'ol band-aid stuck to him now.
"Stop messing with that. I already told you: central lines make it easier to get everything into your system as efficiently as possible."
"It's gross."
"You want a sucker?" The man extended a bowl of multi-coloured candies on sticks.
"Cherry!" Peter snatched a red one, his earlier grievances forgotten. "Score!"
"Works every time," Stephen muttered to Tony.
Peter looked at him. "Huh?"
"Nothing." He nodded. "How're you feeling? Any headaches or fatigue or nausea? Anything?"
Peter started to shake his head, then stopped. "When I first sat up, like, ten-ish minutes ago, I got super nauseous. I almost threw up, but I didn't."
Stephen nodded. "That'll happen when you stay lying down for so long without moving."
"That's a thing?"
"Yeah."
"Oh. Huh."
"Nothing since then?"
Peter shook his head and popped his sucker in.
Mmmmm. He loved fake-cherry flavour!
"Alright, let's get you up."
"Hm?"
"I gotta see if you're able to walk without face-planting before I discharge you."
"Oh. Ok."
Peter set his sucker down and threw off his covers. He then realized he was wearing a hospital gown: ie, when he stood up, his butt was gonna be visible. And, look, he was well aware how nice his ass was, but he didn't want to put it on display like a baboon. Especially in front of Tony and Stephen.
"Uh…." He did his best to tie the gown tight, but it only cooperated so much. "Don't look at my butt."
Tony and Stephen both rolled their eyes. Peter turned so his legs were dangling off the side of the bed. He tentatively poked the ground with his toes, then he added more weight, then all his weight. It was at this moment that he realized his mistake as he almost went plummeting. Stephen and Tony, however, were ready and caught him by the arms. Feeling like a toddler learning to walk for the first time (which wasn't humiliating at all, no), Peter took a step, then another, then another and another. It took him a couple minutes, but he got it.
"I'm good." He said and tugged his arms out of their grasps. He wobbled, but kept upright. "Uh, thanks."
Stephen nodded. "Lemme see you walk back to the bed on your own."
Peter squinted and tugged his gown tighter. "Ok, but don't look at my butt."
"I'm not gonna look at your butt, Peter."
"Felicia would-" FELICIA!
HE'D BEEN WITH FELICIA WHEN HE'D PASSED OUT! Oh god. That was even more embarrassing! What had he done? What had he said? The memories were like a fever dream, lucid and twisting in abstract colour.
Crap. He'd probably scared her away for good.
Damn.
"Kid? You look out of it, are you dizzy?" Tony was waving a hand in front of his face.
Peter blinked and shook his head. "Uh n-no. No. How did I get here?"
"You walked over here, remember? Stephen and I helped you-"
"No, not that. Not here, like, here here. I mean, like, the Medbay. How did I get here?"
"Your girlfriend brought you," Stephen answered.
"Girlfriend?"
Stephen quirked an eyebrow. "Blackcat?"
"Oh Felicia, ok, she- wait, she brought me here?"
The doctor nodded. "Helped me get you stable."
Peter blinked. "Did she put the catheter in?"
"She's not qualified for that, kid."
"Ok…"
"It's not a big deal, kid. I'm a doctor, I've put in more catheters than I can count."
"Yeah…. Ok."
"You ready to walk or are you planning on standing here forever?"
"Huh? Oh right, yeah- I mean no." He took a step forward. "Don't look at my butt."
"Oh my god."
Peter made it to the bed without tipping over, which earned a grunt of approval from the doc.
"Well, everything seems to be in order, so I'm gonna discharge you. That being said-" he gave Peter a stern look "-take it easy. I mean it."
Peter saluted. "Yes sir, Mr. Doctor sir." Then: "can I have my pants back?"
"FRI, bring Pete his clothes," Tony said.
"What would you like to wear, Peter?" FRIDAY chimed in question.
"Pyjama pants, please. And maybe, like, a t-shirt?"
"They are on their way."
"Thanks FRIDAY."
"You are welcome."
"She's nice." He said.
Peter suddenly realized something he hadn't yet, which was absolutely wild. He shot up, eyes wide.
Both men jumped back, eyes shooting wide and staring at him.
"WHY AM I NOT FEELING SICK?!"
Tony squinted then looked cheap. Stephen's brows furrowed, he looked at Tony. Then back at Peter. Then at Tony.
"AM I- did I- did I die?! What happened? What's going on?! Did the mutant disease kill me and now I'm in purgatory?"
Stephen balked and smacked Tony's shoulder, hissing "yOu DIdN't TeLl HiM?!"
"I wAS GoIng To! But then we got off topic and I forgot that I hadn't said anything yet!"
"You have got to be fucking kidding me! Are you fucking joking right now?!"
"We had an important conversation that needed to be had first!" Tony hissed.
"More important than 'hey, Peter, by the way, we found a cure and you're gonna live'?!"
"For your information: maybe."
"Oh for fuck's sak-"
"You guys found a cure?"
They stopped their bickering and their heads swiveled in Peter's direction. Stephen stepped forward. "Yes. We found a cure and I administered it to you. You aren't dying."
Peter choked on a sob, a tornado of feeling slamming into him. Everything was confusing and he didn't know what to think, but he was pretty sure he was relieved? His eyes were spilling tears, blurring his vision so much, he couldn't see anything but amorphous blobs. He wiped his cheeks, trying, and failing, to keep up with the tears that were free-falling like a waterfall. He sniffed, feeling snot collecting in his nose. He wiped it off on his hand, which was disgusting, but he didn't have any tissues.
He was embarrassing himself so much in this damn Medbay!
"Oh." He squeaked.
He felt a weight settle on the edge of the bed and an arm wrapped around him, tugging him into a half-hug. Peter didn't fight it, still sobbing like a child.
Tony ruffled Peter's hair. "I'm glad you're back, kiddo."
Pulling away, Peter scrubbed at his eyes, sniffling. "Thanks for saving me," he squeaked.
"We're both glad you're back," Stephen piped up. His voice was gruff and as heavy as lead.
Peter blinked, the corner of his mouth tugging upwards a little. "You were worried?" It was more a statement than a question.
The man inhaled and cleared his throat. "I happen to like you, so yes."
"Aww." Peter's lopsided smile widened. "I like you too, Stephen. You're a good guy. And a good doctor."
The man smiled softly. "Thanks, kid."
"Your magic is only 'eh' though."
"Excuse me?"
Peter shrugged. "I like Scott's better."
"You- oh my god." Classic Stephen returned with an annoyed huff and an eye-roll. "I can literally make music notes dance through the air."
"Yeah, but can you pull a coin out of my ear?"
"Yes."
"Pfff. Lies." Stephen pulled a coin out of Peter's ear. Peter's eyes widened and he snatched it out of the man's hand. It was a real coin! "Oh my gosh you actually did it, holy crap that was amazing."
Tony and Stephen shared a look. Tony snorted and shook his head and Stephen rolled his eyes with a smile.
"You should do more of this kinda magic, forget that other stuff like whatever it was that you just said."
"Right, 'cause that would work just great in a battle."
"It would totally work to distract them. Then you come in with a knife and-" he gestured "stabby-stabby."
Both men shared another look, more unreadable this time.
"Huh." Tony eventually said.
Peter blew a raspberry. "Obviously I don't mean kill them, just-" he gestured again "-stab 'em where it isn't lethal. Like the balls."
"So, lemme see if I'm hearing you right," Stephen started, "you're telling me to pull a coin out of their ear then, while they gawk at it, castrate them."
Peter squinted, then smiled. "Oh yeah I guess I am, ha ha! Why?"
"Huh." Tony said again, then after a moment, shrugged. "Little cruel, but if it works…"
"It totally would! You should try it, Stephen."
"Uh… I'll think about it." He paused. "I'm gonna do a quick CAT scan on your head before I discharge you, actually."
Peter blinked. "Why?"
"Just want to check something is all. See how your brain is doing."
"Why?" Peter said again, slurring a little this time.
Stephen and Tony shared another look. "No reason."
