Marvel One-Shots [NO REQUESTS]

CONFINED TO A WHEELCHAIR (FOR LIKE A FEW WEEKS, CHILL)

"So, Peter, did you learn your lesson?" Tony smirked from the doorway he was leaning on, taking a sip from his mug of coffee, and watched Peter scowl at him in amusement.

Peter was sat in a wheelchair after the fifth time he had been shot on patrol that month. He had been shot in his right leg, twice in the chest and once in his right foot. The bullets had been removed and his spider-fueled healing would surely clear it all up in a month, two tops, but that didn't stop Tony from having a heart attack when Peter had swung through a (closed) window bleeding.

As revenge (and a lesson in admitting when he needed help or something), Tony had forced Peter to stay in a wheelchair instead of just using crutches. May had even been more than pissed at her nephew getting hurt and allowed Stark to keep him at the Compound for the next few days.

"You think this is hilarious, well jokes on you, I already know how to use a wheelchair." Peter stuck his tongue out (very professional) and maneuvered his way from the other side of the hospital bed, past Tony, with expertise.

"What the hell kid, since when?" Stark walked close behind him, looking at his 'intern' like he was crazy. In his defense, Peter probably was.

"Growing up I climbed a lot of trees and fell out of plenty. There's also the time I got hit by a truck, but that's another story." He shrugged, heading for the main floor he hung out with Tony on.

"We're talking about that later but, before I forget, some of the Avengers are coming over for a bit while the new Accords are being sorted out. Try to remember Vision's thing about not using doors. Or walls." Tony messed up Peter's hair as he passed before heading to the coffee pot to refill his mug. It was an Iron Man mug Rhodey had gotten him as a joke on his last birthday but he ended up taking a liking to it.

"Who's staying and for how long?"

"Nosy much?" Tony chuckled as Peter rolled his eyes "Natasha, Steve, Sam, Bucky, Wanda, Vision and Clint. Scott's in his house with his daughter but might come next weekend for a visit, so if you get hurt again, which you probably will, be aware. Rhodey will be around tomorrow for a bit but he's been getting a lot of missions lately."

"Do I have to tell them I'm Spider-Man when I meet them?" Peter wheeled his way over to the couch, lifting himself out of the chair and onto the cushions. He winced as he lowered down onto the seat, even though the bullet wounds were healing they stung like a mother fucker.

"Well, if you don't Nat will probably work it out from your voice and the others might recognize your voice. I'll tell them for you though, I know you hate stuff like that." Tony picked up a bag of crisps from the kitchen island and chucked them at Peter, grinning when the kids spidey-senses warned him and caught it with ease.

"Thanks Mr Stark."

"One day, one day you'll call me by my actual name."

"Dream on."

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

The day was slow for Peter. Ned had broken his phone and his mum needed to use their landline, he had finished all of his school work already and Tony had left with Happy to pick up the Avengers. He had spent a few hours in Tony's lab working on new specs for improved web shooters and sorted through his notebook. There were a few blueprints for possible weapons suiting the other Avengers, he would have to get Tony's opinion on them.

He was stuck in the wheelchair, there was no escaping that. Stark had made sure Friday would keep Peter in line while he was gone, one of the newer rules being he wasn't allowed to get out of the wheelchair unless he was going to sit somewhere else or going to the toilet.