Peter Parker/Avengers One-Shots

Worthy!

Desc: After Peter is shot in the shoulder, Tony bans him from patrolling (blah) and from leaving the Tower (yay!). Unfortunately, Thor is also visiting--along with a certain magical hammer--at the same time. This leads to shenanigans, soft Tony, sensory overloads, Clint just generally being a fool, and Thor being way to excited about this whole thing.

Word count: 2,581

Tony Stark... was not having a good day.

First Ross called in telling him Wanda had been using her magic illegally (she had been making butterflies for a six year old who had just lost her mother to a fire), so he had to deal with that. Then Steve rushed in and told him Thor, on a mission to find some missing artifact or another, was going to be staying in the Tower for the foreseeable future. Then a certain Spider-Child crashed through his window, blood gushing from a fucking bullet wound on his shoulder, rambling about how he definitely got injured falling down the stairs and not at all by being shot by yet another power hungry psychopath in a dirty alley.

So yeah, all in all a pretty awful turn of events.

He was now sitting, hand cupping his head, in the uncomfortable plastic chair outside of Bruce's lab, waiting to see just how many of Steve's super soldier pain meds were going to be used up by Peter this time. He shifted in an effort to keep his legs from falling asleep, and grumbled, "I should really replace these chairs. I'm a freakin' billionaire for crying out loud. I can afford some god—"

"Tony?" Bruce said, pushing the lab door open with a slight creak.

Tony jumped a little, giving the scientist a glare. "Warn a guy, will you?"

Bruce shot him an incredulous look, but didn't push it when he saw the worry and edginess in Tony's eyes.

"Peter will be fine. Luckily the bullet only grazed him, and although he might have a scar it shouldn't affect him long term. Although it is going to hurt like hell for a while," Bruce admitted with a wince. "He's still a bit loopy from the morphine, but he should metabolize it within the hour."

Tony let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, some of the tension leaving his shoulders. "Thanks, Brucie Bear."

Bruce gave him a small smile. "No problem."

___________________________________

Peter sat up with a groan, pain throbbing through his left shoulder. The world was slightly hazy, a fog clouded his barely conscious mind, and his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth.

"T'ny?" He muttered, glancing around drowsily.

"Right here, kiddo," His da—mentor replied, putting a calloused hand on Peter's knee.

"What happne-happened?" Peter asked blearily. He struggled to get his memories straight, his mind still clouded. "Oh. Right. Shod. Shot."

Tony gave him a look. "Uh huh. You wanna tell me about that, Pete? I seem to remember you promising me you'd call if you ever got seriously hurt again."

Peter averted his eyes, looking instead to the cream coloured wall and away from Tony's stony gaze. "Was only a liddle shot," he mumbled. " 'Was fine."

"Yeah no, cause if it was fine you wouldn't have stumbled so hard you cannon balled into my window and been rained on by bazillion shards of glass that then stuck to you and made you look like a fu—freaking porcupine!" Tony fired back.

"I tripped..." Peter mumbled.

"I don't care what you did!" Tony stood abruptly. "You were shot, and instead of calling me stumbled a mile and a half to the Tower only to hurt yourself even more! We've talked about this Pete, you can't keep hurting yourself, sacrificing your own well being because you think you're bothering me! That I don't care! I do care! Peter, I lo—" Tony cut himself up abruptly, rubbing his face with his hand. Peter could guess how that sentence would have ended. But...no. No, that's not it. He would've said something else. Peter shoved the thought to the back of his mind.