Superfamily Oneshots

Hiding An Injury

Peter walked into the commons kitchen, arm nestled safely to his stomach-hand placed securely in the pocket of his hoodie. He tried to fight off the fact that he's basically using his hoodie as a makeshift sling- but it's not because he's not hurt. He's just sore.

Patrolling last night was a little rough. A big guy seemingly made of rocks, yet nowhere near as nice as Korg, had been terrorizing the alleyways of downtown New Haven. And yes, New Haven may be a little bit farther than his normal jurist diction, but it's fine. Anyways, giant rock guy, big ally fight, and-oh yeah. The thing stepped right onto his arm. It hurt. Peter had a relatively high pain tolerance at this point in the game, but ow. His right web shooter? Shattered. But it's really not that bad, he has that whole heightened healing factor thing that fixed it up overnight.

Which is what Peter keeps telling himself. He's just a little sore, it's fine.

Okay maybe swinging home was not his best idea but he was in Manhattan! What was he going to do, walk?

He gingerly sits down at the dining table, thankful for the lack of Avengers in the common area. It's a school day, so most of them aren't even up anyways. He just needs to avoid Captain Pops and he'll be good as gold. Peter is quick eating his breakfast, although a little messy as he is eating cereal with his non dominant hand. He's near the homestretch, elevator doors in sight. When the doors open.

You're kidding.

ALL of the avengers are in the elevator. Super spies, super soldiers, super geniuses. Peter feels like crying when the group looks him up and down.

"What's the rush Pete?" Tony asks him nonchalantly, even patting his shoulder redirecting him back towards the kitchen. Which-ow.

"Yeah I don't think I've ever seen a teenager this excited to get to school." Clint snorts.

"It's just, um. We-We're watching a movie in biology today. I uh, I wanted a good spot in the front." Peter says unconvincingly, eyes flitting across the group nervously.

"Uh huh." Tony says skeptically. "So what's up with your arm, kiddo?"

"Tony I thought we said we were going to be discrete about this?" Steve says, exasperated with his husbands antics.

"Well I'm sorry, babe, but this is pathetic to watch." Tony gestures towards Peter, already exhausted with this conversation.

"I'm going to be late to school." Peter tries.

"Peter show us your arm." Tony gestures for the appendage, which Peter has been working very hard to keep safe against his stomach.

"No, what?" Peter's starting to get defensive because, is he really that obvious?

Bruce sighs ,"Peter we know you got hurt last night, FRIDAY told us everything. Please just let me take a look at your arm."

"There's nothing wrong with my arm. FRIDAY just needs to be reprogrammed or something." Okay even Peter knows that was a weak argument.

"Listen kid, I'd really like to believe you, but you haven't moved your right arm even a little bit this entire time." Clint points out. Fucking super spy. Thinks he knows everything.

"Peter, stop taking after your pops and lose the hero complex-"

"Hey!"

"We know your hurt, just let us help you." Tony practically begs.

"No, I'll be fine." Peter mumbles, holding back tears that are desperately trying to escape. "I-I have good healing remember?"

"We know, buddy. But the last thing we want is for that arm to heal wrong." Bruce says comfortingly- always ready to be the voice of reason. "Just come sit on the couch and let me have a look."