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chapter twenty-one

Peter slowly opened his eyes, letting out a soft groan as he lifted his head to look around. He rubbed the blurriness out of his eyes and looked to the woman in the room.
"Oh... Hey," he greeted the doctor. He'd gotten rather familiar with the med bay, so he was only slightly disoriented. The lights were really bright, and it hurt his eyes.
"Peter! How are you feeling?" She rushed over. "FRIDAY, alert Mr Stark that Peter's awake."
"'M fine..." He mumbled, sitting up. "What happened?" He brushed his hands over the bandages on his head and wincing.
"Go get him some water," the woman told her assistant. Her assistant, a young college-student-looking man, nodded and left the room.
"You lost consciousness due to hyperventilating, and you hit your head when you fell," the woman explained. She was probably in her mid 50's, judging by a few wrinkles tugging at her skin.
"Wh...What time is it?" Peter asked, slowly recalling the details of what had happened. He was still in his clothes from last night.
"It's 2:48 AM," the doctor replied after a quick glance at the clock. "You should try to go back to sleep soon. Though, I would be surprised if Mr Stark wasn't on his way right now."

As if on cue, Mr Stark appeared in the doorway.
"Kid," he let out a sigh of relief. "How are you feeling?"
"I'm okay," he shifted uncomfortably. 'They're going have a lot of questions...' He thought. "How are you?"
     Tony's gaze softened. "I'm good, bud. Try to sleep in, okay? You're not going to school tomorrow."
     Peter's face dropped immediately. He was so looking forward to seeing his friends, but now he had to wait even longer?
     "I know, it sucks. I'm really sorry, Pete," Tony added after looking at his disappointed face.
"It's okay," Peter looked up to him and offered a tired smile. "Thanks, Mr Stark."
"How much money would I have to give you to call me 'Tony'?" Tony grumbled, though he was just joking around.
Peter laughed, a real smile now lopsided on his face. "You have to earn it, Mr Stark," he teased.
"Alright then," Tony rolled his eyes. "Get some sleep, okay?"
"Only if you do too!"
"Alright, deal." Tony agreed.
     Tony left the room and the assistant entered it, handing him a cup of water.
     "Thank you," Peter said, taking the cup and gulping it down. 2 AM night water just hit different.

When Peter woke up again, it was 11:17 AM. 'Jeez, I slept super late,' he thought, looking at the clock. He yawned weakly and looked around, though there was nothing new from the last time he'd visited. Well, 'visited' isn't exactly the right term. He had been shot, so... Call it what you will.
     Anyway, he sat in bed, unsure of what to do. Should he get up? Should he just sit in bed, waiting for a nurse or a doctor?
     He noticed was another door in the room, one with a plaque on it. It had a man on one side of a line, and a woman on the other. He slipped off the bed, instantaneously becoming uncomfortable at the cold sensation of the floor beneath his toes. He tiptoed to the bathroom and opened the door, locking it behind him.
     He looked at his appearance in the mirror and couldn't help softly smiling at himself. When he lived with his aunt, he'd been terrible skinny, especially after the spider bite. Now, living with the Avengers, he actually had some meat on his bones. He'd always avoided looking in mirrors because of his appearance, but when that he saw himself now, he actually felt good.
     "Peter, you in there?" Came a knock on the door, making Peter jump out of his skin.
     "Yeah!" He called back, trying to calm down. Sometimes he wished that his spidey-sense alerted him of both dangerous and non-dangerous things.

     When he returned to the bed, shifting until he was comfortable, a knock came from the door. He looked up and cleared his throat.
     "Uh- Come in!" He said awkwardly. A familiar man strolled in and Peter relaxed.
     "Hey, kid. How you feelin'?" Tony asked, sitting at the edge of the bed.
     "I'm good, thanks," he replied, a crooked smile on his face. He seemed to be asked that a lot lately.
     "That's good," he mumbled, probably to himself. "Right. So, you up for visitors?"
     "Yeah," Peter's smile softened.
     "Alright. I have to go take care of some things, but I'll let the rest of the Brady Bunch know you're up," Tony stood.

     As soon as Tony left, a large group filed into the room.
     There were many voices speaking out to him at once, and he just smiled at the chaos.
"The noise level in this room... is ASTRONOMICAL!" Peter said in a feminine tone, using hand gestures. He got a majority of confused looks in return to his TikTok reference, except for—Steve?
"I understood that reference," he said, pointing to him.
"What?! Mr Rogers, do you have TikTok?" Peter asked incredulously.
Steve looked around at the others in confusion. "I thought this was common pop culture?"
"No," Peter laughed.
"Well," Steve started, suddenly sheepish, "I've been trying to catch up on everything I've missed, and I'm having a hard time distinguishing between common knowledge and inside jokes. I guess I over-researched..."
Peter started wheezing, and the others were either smiling or shaking their heads in disapproval. Bucky clasped Steve's shoulder and doubled over, laughing hysterically.
"Do you know vines?" Peter gasped suddenly. He decided to test it. "Hurricane Katrina—?"
Steve just looked at him in question.
"Mr Rogers, you're supposed to finish it," Peter giggled before trying again. "Hurricane Katrina—?"
Steve looked at the others in discomfort—and they stared back in an antagonizing manner—before letting out a small sigh of defeat and replying. "More like hurricane tortilla..."
"Yes!" Peter gasped in triumph. "I can't believe this has never come up before!"
"I wish it hadn't," the man mumbled, though he was smiling good-naturedly.

Tony suddenly burst in the room, frantically whispering something to Natasha, who relayed it to everyone, and the group quickly exited the room without warning. Peter sat there in both confusion and intense curiosity.
"FRIDAY, can you tell me what's going on?" Peter asked the AI.
"I'm afraid that information is classified," she returned, sounding apologetic.
"Okay, thanks," Peter smiled innocently, though he knew for a fact that wouldn't stop him.

     What weren't they telling him?

     Whatever it was, one way or another, he would find out.

author's note;
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also, would anyone be interested in a q&a? if you aren't and just like the story it won't hurt my feelings i promise 😂❤️