Pull Us Back

the recovery

Peter's eyelids were glued shut. Well, at least it felt like it. He felt a hand softly stroke his cheek. He slowly leaned his head into his touch. He slowly tried to pry his eyes open. Tony smiled softly.

"Hey, Petey." Peter opened his mouth to speak when Tony stopped him. "Don't try to speak, your vocal chords are healing, buddy. You should be fine."

Peter nodded softly, a wave of nausea immediately wiping over him. He started to bring up his arms to sign but... he gasped loudly. He breathed heavily, little squeaky noises coming from the back of his throat. "Da-D-Da-"

"Sh, I know, buddy, I know." He hugged him tightly. "The-The poison kicked in too quickly, they- they couldn't."

Peter raised his left-his only-hand to cup the back of Tony's head. He let a few more years slip from his eyes, onto his dad's tee shirt. He fully wrapped his arm around his neck and sobbed into his shoulder.

"P-Puh..."

"Wait one sec, let me get you a notepad to write on."

He grabbed some sticky notes and a sharpie from the bad side table, handing them both to Peter. In extremely shaky hand writing due to the non dominant hand, he wrote, 'Pops.'

"I'll go get Steve, buddy. And a cup of water. Anything else?"

He shook his head, pressing himself into his bed.

"Okay, buddy."

Tony pressed a kiss to his forehead and walked out the door. Peter glanced over at his Spidey suit sitting on his bedside. He reached out his arm to grab it, but it was on his right and his arm couldn't quite reach it, bringing more tears of frustration coming to his eyes. He huffed, shoving his back into the bed. He checked his right shoulder, seeing only a short stump keeping his hospital gown shoulder. He took a shaky breath in, eyes slipping shut.

He should be dead.

If you wasn't Spider-Man he would be dead.

"Peter?"

Peter let out another squeak as he lifted up his arm, only for two hundred pound of America gently slam into his chest. His arms wrapped around Peter's torso, and Peter wrapped his arm around his neck. Peter sniffled.

"P-Puh-Puh-!"

"Shh, it's okay, it's okay," Steve whispered into his ear.

"P-P!"

"It's okay, it's okay."

~!~

"I got you the best person I could think of to make your new arm."

'Not u?'

"No, not me. She genuinely has the greatest technology for the arm."

"Hell, she even made Buck's arm. We both really trust her, Pete."

Peter sat on the bed, still not quite strong enough to walk by himself. Tony still refuses to talk to him about Spider-Man, even though his Spidey Suit remained on the bedside table. He hasn't tried to touch it since the day he woke up. If he closed his eyes and listened carefully, he could hear his dad and another man talking. He could maybe hear a third pair of footsteps, but only if he listens extremely, extremely closely. Of course, the poison also messed up his super hearing. He thinks it may fully heal, but he's never been poisoned to this extent before. Or ever, really.

A knock at the door rung through his room. In a raspy voice, Peter weakly said, "Come in."

Tony opened the door to reveal a man and a teen. "Pete, this is King T'Challa and Princess Shuri of Wakanda."

"Hello, Peter." T'Chala smiled.

His little sister grinned, "Hey, Peter!"

Peter smirked. "Ooh, I like your accent where you from?"

"Pete-"

"I'm Liberian."

"Oh, my bad." Peter took his voice to a whisper. "I like your accent, where you from?"

Shuri busted out laughing. "I like him- c'mon let's get to work on your arm, Peter."

Peter and Shuri clicked instantly. Peter asked her if she could make his hand sticky since he was Spider-Man. After fan girling for a second, she agreed to.

"Hey, Shuri," Peter started as she tinkered away at his shoulder, the cold metal connecting up to his collarbone, "my friends are coming over soon, wanna hang out with us?"

"Don't know. They as cool as you?"

Peter grinned. "They're cooler!"

"Alright. I'm down."

About three hours and half a robotic arm later, another knock rang on the door.

"Come in!"

"Sup, lo- oh my god."

Peter was worried MJ was talking about his arm before he caught her staring at Shuri. Peter smirked as Cooper nudged her.

"Stop staring, Michelle, it's considered rude," Cooper teased, walking over to Peter.

"Go to hell!"

Cooper settled himself next to Peter. "How you holdin' up?"

"Better than being dead," Peter rasped, shrugging gently, before basically being tackled to the bed by Ned.

"I was so worried about you!"

"I'm sorry."

"Shut up. You did nothing wrong."

~!~

Peter's physical therapist was named Jonathan. Apparently he was the same PT that helped Tony after New York (falling from the sky isn't the best on the body). One day after his session, his dad shoved a pile of red and blue into his arms. He slowly unfolded it to reveal an updated Spidey suit.

"Dad..."

"I was originally going to forbid you from being your spider self, but- but Steve talked me out of it," Tony sighed. "He reminded me that you have my hero complex. You'd do it somehow, even if I put security on every part of this building, but we're gonna need some ru- oof!"

He was cut off by Peter slamming into his chest.

"I love it. Thank you, Dad."

"No problem, kid."