Chapter 4

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I'M BAAAAACCCKKK! Sorry I've been out for so long but I've had this in my head so here we go!!

Also, thank you for 2.8k on my Juke Oneshots!!! I am so grateful!

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Peter couldn't breathe.

The dust and debris that flew around him filled his lungs, as he let out a strained cough and cried out in pain. His whole body ached and begged him to move but he couldn't. 

He was trapped.

The image of the Vulture continued to play in his head and he thought of everybody he would lose.

Aunt May, Ned, MJ, Tony. 

Tony.

He screwed up hadn't he?

And it was because he was wrong and Tony had been right. He wasn't ready. He was just a kid.

A kid in a sweatsuit with no experience.

He should have known better.

His mind continued to cloud as the weight around him seemed to suffocate him. He felt like he was going to throw up but he also could hear a voice screaming, his spidey sense sending a blast of pain through his spine.

He didn't know if he was the one screaming or not.

The pain was too much.

And just before he could close his eyes, his own cries echoing in the empty warehouse, he swore he could see a flash of red and gold.

And then it all went black.

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Peter woke up with a start, his screams still ringing in his ear. His eyes darted around the room and he was blinded by the brightness that radiated off the walls.

His head throbbed and he had a aching in his chest. He looked down to see a bandage wrapped around his torso and a few tubes and IV's connected to his hands.

So he was hurt and in the Med-Bay.

But he was also confused. How did he get here? Everything since he was shot was a blur, if he could even remember anything after the gun had gone off. The moment the bullet connected with him, he felt a searing pain which he was used to. Being Spider-man, he was accustomed to being shot and stabbed. But this this time it was different.

Usually when he's shot, he feels it break the skin and then the pain goes away, the adrenaline kicking in and only after he swings home and it wears off, does he feel the dull ache and weight of the bullet. 

Yet when he was shot, there was no adrenaline rush to catch him when it collided and instead of the pain dulling, his spidey sense had flared and the bullet felt like it was burning him.

Burning inside of him. 

He pushed himself up with a grunt, his eyes landing on a window that was directly in front of him, almost like a viewing room into the Med-Bay.

Which was weird. Who watched patients while they slept?

He leaned back against the pillows in frustration, letting out a sigh as he stretched to stare at the ceiling. It helped him focus, trying to count every crack, to see every imperfection that resided in this seemingly perfect building. 

It reminded him a lot of Mr. Stark, believe it or not. 

Mr. Stark.

His mind was swimming with thoughts, which didn't help with the headache he had, and just couldn't help himself but wonder.

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