Spider-Son & Iron Dad one shots

Bandage

Spooktober.28

Peter's knuckles were bruised and bloody. It was a hard night. Not by any emotional means, but just because he had fought stronger and longer, and he was able to get through more criminals.

He crawled through his window and tossed the mask across the room, and then, still drenched in sweat, he collapses onto the bed and falls asleep.

He wakes up the next morning with a heavy sigh. It wasn't a rare occurrence for Peter to be so exhausted at the end of the night that he doesn't bother stripping off the suit, but it does prove to be bothersome when he had bleeding injuries that soaked through onto the bedsheets, or in this case, the pillowcase he had held in his sleep.

Peter crawls out of the bed and tosses the pillowcase into the laundry basket before showering quickly, getting ready for school and heading out the door before he was late. His knuckles still ached something fierce, especially after the rapid hot water from the shower, which was a testament to how many fights he truly had gotten into last night.

He tried to ignore the stinging pain when he sits down in his first class. His hands are hidden under the sleeves of his sweater, which he purposely pulls down as far as it can go to hide the angry purple smears.

Classes come and go, and Peter is finding it increasingly difficult to hold a pencil without grimacing in pain. At one point, he had accidentally brushed the knuckles on his right against the rough textured wall and winded so hard that Ned asked if he was having a sensory overload.

Peter answered with no, but it may have been a sensory overload with how painful it became in that sliver of a second where it collided with the wall.

When he gets to lunch, he sits down miserably and puts a juice box (which was finally good for how icy it was) in between the backs of his hands, just to relieve the swelling as much as he can. His forehead is pressed onto the table as he lets out a pained frustrated sigh.

MJ looks up from her book and frowns. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he mumbles. "Don't worry about it, MJ."

She arches an eyebrow and puts the bookmark in between her page. "Alright, I'll bite. What happened to your hands?"

Peter huffs, knowing that he won't be able to get by without telling her now. "Bruised knuckles. I had a long patrol."

"Dude." Ned interjects the conversation, putting his burger down. "Why didn't you tell me? I could've helped."

"Same here," MJ points out.

Peter blinks at them as he realizes that he doesn't have a good reason at all. He was in pain, his friends could have helped, and yet he was still quiet about it until it became so unbearable that they noticed themselves. Why was he so determined to make things harder for himself?

"I don't know," Peter stutters. "I figured I would be fine."

MJ sighs and stands up from the table. She slings her backpack over her shoulder. "Follow me. I've got this one, Ned."

Peter was never one to deny an order from Michelle Jones, so he gets up and follows her out of the cafeteria. Ned stays alone, more than happy to finish his burger and play the game on his phone.

MJ leads him out into an empty hallway, and then kneels down to rifle through her bag. "Sit down."

Peter hesitates, but sits down next to her, leaning back on a locker.

MJ pulls an entire first aid kit out of her backpack, and starts cleaning up Peter's knuckles with an alcohol wipe. He lets out a soft hiss, almost pulling his hands back, but MJ holds them steady.

"Why do you have an entire first aid kit in your backpack?" Peter asks through gritted teeth.

"Common sense?" MJ snorts, and starts carefully bandaging Peter's hands with gauze. "Plus, I know a guy who gets himself hurt a lot. It seemed like a good idea to carry a first aid kit around."

"That guy sounds dumb," Peter says seriously. "He should be more careful."

MJ stares at him for a minute, and when realizing that Peter isn't joking, she nods with raised eyebrows. "Yeah, no kidding. He should."

MJ puts the first aid kit back into her backpack and then they walk back into the cafeteria, just as the bell rings.

Peter says his thanks to MJ, as well as apologizing to Ned, before disappearing into the crowd of people who are attending their next class.

After school, Happy drives him to the compound. The gauze bandages is still wrapped still placed securely on his hands, preventing friction against the tender wounds while keeping them safe from infection. He felt a sense of warmth in his heart that MJ took the time to help him.

"Rough night?" Tony asks once spotting his wrapped knuckles. It makes sense he would recognize the wound so quick. After all, Tony is the furthest thing to a rookie when it comes to crime fighting, or fighting in general.

"Yeah," Peter comments, sitting down at the nearest lab desk. "MJ patched me up."

Tony smiles and looks away.

"What is it?"

"Nothing." Tony says with a shrug, the pleased grin never leaving his face. "Pepper used to do the same thing, that's all."

"Oh," Peter replies, and looks away as a smile of his own starts to show. And all though he wouldn't tell anyone, a blush may have crept up as well.