Lots of things were happening, but that's all Peter knew. He could hear commotion- distant and muffled by the car-shaped coffin on top of him. Sometimes he could force his eyelids open just enough to see sunlight peeking in through the crushed window. The light hurt though, and so did the sound, so Peter preferred to regress to his unconscious state, even if it left him vulnerable.

A new sound, much closer and not-so muffled ripped Peter from his comfortable darkness. It was coming from the carcass of the Audi- someone was trying to lift it. Who was this guy? What did Peter ever do to him? Why is he strong enough to lift a car?

With every ounce of strength that Pete had left, he groaned against the blinding pain of injuries he knew he had but couldn't quite place. Peter managed to wriggle his arm free of where it was bent unnaturally underneath the steering wheel. He reached his shaking arm towards where the car shook with effort and the silhouette of two booted feet appeared out the shattered window.

Peter glanced at his web shooter to make sure it was still intact just as the tangle of car parts above him was hoisted up. The sun was blinding and the sound of the highway was deafening. There was definitely some form of concussion going on. The most jarring part though was the actual movement itself. Some of the intense weight was lifted from Peter's body, but the seatbelt still fastened across his chest tugged at his sore body. He also couldn't help but moan as he felt something slide out of his leg- and yes, it was in his leg, whatever it was. If Peter focused on it, he could even feel a thick, wetness by his ankle. No doubt he was bleeding all over the place.

He couldn't focus on his injuries though, because he finally faced with his attacker- this unknown, villain. He was tall, he was built, he was holding up a car with one hand as if it was made of paper... It was... Captain America?

Peter blinked.

Yep, it was Steve Rogers.

Oh.

And with that moment of relief, Peter let his outstretched arm fall as inky blotches filled his vision.

"Peter, are you okay? Kid?" Steve asked, but Peter could only conjure up a groan in return.

"Does he live?" Asked a deep, Australian-like accent. Thor?

"Barely conscious," Steve answered. "Hold this."

The car lurched and Peter groaned in protest. He felt someone messing with the latch of his seatbelt. Whoever it was, he guessed Steve, yanked it clear off with a snap. Peter's body slumped further into the cold, cement ground. He tried to bring himself back into reality, but he was fighting through the thick haze.

"I gotchya," Rogers muttered, hooking his arms underneath Peter's own arms and slowly pulling him out from under the pulverized vehicle. Peter couldn't conceptualize much, but he knew that he felt sort of like a rag doll at that moment. He also recognized the familiar sound of repulsors in the distance, followed by crashes and explosion. No doubt, Tony was somewhere here raising Hell.

"Okay," Steve said, and a whoosh of air blew over Peter as the car was seeming dropped back to the ground with a deafening crash. Peter felt his back being supported by Cap's arm. Steve's other hand gently gripped Peter's jaw. He turned Peter's head a bit, probably to examine injuries. Peter took this time to really work on opening his eyes, no matter how much the sun stung.

"Steve..." he muttered, finally getting some basic motor skills back. The scene around him took form and some of the light dimmed- enough to make out Steve Rogers and Thor looming over him.

"Hey. Talk to me, Pete. What hurts the most?" Cap asked gently, helping Peter sit up on his own.

"Uh... I don't really know..."

He just knew that he couldn't stop shaking.

"The adrenaline is probably still pumping through your body. You'll start feeling it soon."

Peter didn't like the sound of that. He pushed himself away from Cap's grasp and stumbled into a wavering stand.

"Careful, Parker," Thor warned, grabbing Peter's arm to support the swaying teenager.

"We have medical teams on the way." Cap started saying, but Peter wasn't invested in their conversation at the moment. Right then, he was watching something much more captivating, and not necessarily in a good way.

It would be an understatement to say that Tony Stark was destroying this Mustang-guy. One blast after another was delivered straight at the already-destroyed car. Peter watched as "Iron Man" touched down next to the driver side door and yank it clear off its hinges. Tony tossed the door to the side like it was a frisbee. He ripped the guy from the car by the neck and slammed him against the side of his own car.

"Easy, Stark," Captain called out to warn him, disapprovingly. Tony tensed for a minute but didn't beat the living daylights out of the guy like Peter was sure he was going to do for a moment there. Instead, Tony gripped him tighter before tossing him aside just like he had done to the door. The guy's back hit a streetlight pole and he crumpled to the ground.

Peter shrunk at the sight. It would've been slightly scary to watch that on a normal day, sure. But now, in this situation, it was horrifying. Why? Because Peter was sure that he himself was next.

Pete looked down at the flipped Audi, his stomach sinking at the sight of the rubble. Peter balled his hands up nervously at his sides and stepped behind Thor, obscuring his vision of Tony and vice versa. Thor glanced back.

"What are you doing?"

Peter didn't answer but peered around Thor's bulging arm to watch as Tony and the Iron Man suit cleared the Mustang wreck off of the street. Thor looked between Peter and Tony and then stepped further in front of Pete, hiding him for what few minutes of life he had left before Mr. Stark chucked him across the freeway just like Mustang-man. The fact that even Thor recognized the need to hide Peter wasn't all too comforting.

Sirens approached quickly and a few ambulances flooded the area with blue and red light. Cap and Thor help Peter limp towards the trucks as medics rushed out to poke and prod at him. He still didn't feel any intense pain, just a lot of numbness and shaking. He couldn't quite concentrate either. He heard the word, 'shock' being thrown around a lot but didn't care to dispute it. He did dispute their numerous requests to pack him up and take him to the hospital.

"No, that's okay..." he heard himself saying, but he was still a little dazed. Maybe he was in shock. Is this what shock felt like? His body felt... wrong, but there wasn't pain. His eyes couldn't focus on one thing for very long. His heart was still pounding loudly enough to drown out his surroundings. Most prominent of all, Peter couldn't stop repeating the crash his head from the moment that the back of the car spun out to the moment when it collided with the ground.

"... and I want everyone back at the compound to look into every lead we have on possible "Kovas" outliers. We should be done with this shit." Peter heard Mr. Stark's voice carry over all the rest. His suit was retracting back into its reactor origin. Shoot... he was probably coming to rip Peter a new one any minute now.

With the medics distracted with gathering supplies to wrap his leg and Steve and Thor taking away Mustang-Man, Peter slipped around an ambulance, obscuring himself from Tony's line of vision.

"Uh... Mr. Parker?" he heard one of the medics call out in confusion, no doubt wondering where he suddenly disappeared to. The only thing Peter was worried about was avoiding Mr. Stark at all costs. Speaking of which, he was headed near Peter now.

Limping to the other side of the ambulance, Peter once again evaded his searching eyes.

"Peter." Tony called out. He didn't shout it, but there was nothing warm and friendly about his tone. Peter sure as hell didn't answer. He didn't even risk to peak around the corner. He heard Tony walk forward, so he darted the best he could behind the second ambulance, ducking out of view. "Stop messing around, kid."

A hand enclosed around Peter's wrist and pulled him back from behind the ambulance. He grunted in pain from the sudden movement and stumbled to land face-to-face with a steely Tony Stark.

"I'm so sorry, Mr. Stark. I swear, I'll spend the rest of my life- and all of my afterlife too- to make-"

"What?" Tony's eyebrows pulled together, demanding in frustration as if he didn't actually know what Peter was talking about. Wait... did he?

"The car..." Peter said in a small voice. Mr. Stark rolled his eyes and shook his head as if it was the most ridiculous thing he's ever heard. "Are you okay?" He pressed, completely ignoring Peter's guilt induced melt-down.

The question caught Peter off-guard.

"Um... Okay. I'm okay."

"Are you sure?" Mr. Stark asked, an eyebrow cocked. "Because it looks like Megladon and Godzilla fought over your leg there."

"Oh..." Peter said, glancing down.

Yeesh. He thought. That did look bad.

"No, it actually-" Peter went to stand on his leg to show Mr. Stark how fully functional it was, but a blinding pain overtook him. Peter sucked in a sharp breath of air and felt his knees buckle underneath him. Tony was there immediately, one arm around Peter's back and the other gripping his upper arm for support.

"Why isn't he already on the way to the hospital?" Stark called out to the medics in general, glancing over at the team of people waiting with supplies to address Peter's wounds.

"He refuses to go." One particularly sassy EMF informed flatly.

"What- Pete- Normal people go to hospitals after getting injured, get me?" He demanded, looking Peter straight in the eye. Even with a discombobulated brain, Peter knew he was talking about hiding his superhero tendency to brush off injuries or rely on the compound infirmary. "Get in the damn ambulance," Tony instructed when Pete didn't answer.

Peter did not want to argue with Mr. Stark right now. Tony helped him climb up in the back of the truck and lie down on the stretcher. Tony climbed in too, taking a seat on the trunk of supplies against the ambulance wall.

"Uh, I'm sorry, Mr. Stark. We can't allow anyone to accompany Mr. Parker. You can meet him at-"

"It's fine." Tony shut down the medic, yet still, the guy nervously pressed on.

"I really do have to insist-"

"I said, it's fine." Stark said, looking the young medic straight in the eye. The poor kid nodded and a few other members of the EMF climbed into the back before shutting the doors and taking off down the freeway.

Peter took this time to try again, not liking the way Mr. Stark was bowing his head while pinching the bridge of his nose in irritation.

"Uh, Mr. Stark... I swear, I'll do anything. I mean, work, indentured servitude, blood sacrifice-"

"Will you shut your trap about the dumb car for one second?" Tony asked in a low voice, not entirely angry, but more tired.

"But-"

"Peter." Tony stopped him instantly. Tony looked up at him, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his thighs. "No part of this is your fault... kay?"

Peter felt every single muscle he had been tensing up, relax. He wanted to exclaim 'what!?' but didn't want to challenge Tony in his ruling. If he was taking mercy on Peter, he sure as hell wasn't about to argue.

"And even if it was," Mr. Stark shrugged, sitting back against the ambulance wall and tapping his fingers on his knee. "We take care of you first... Then maybe I'd kick your ass. Depending." He finished, casually. Peter chuckled but winced at the pain it caused him. Everything was starting to set in- the soreness of his ribs, the stinging cuts all over his arms, the sharp, stabbing feeling in his leg...

"This was my fight and it should have never reached you. I'm sorry it did."

Ohhh... Peter finally had a revelation. Mr. Stark wasn't acting irritated because of anything Peter did, it was what Tony did to Peter. He felt guilty.

"Oh... It's okay." Peter mumbled, and he meant it. He figured the Avengers were kind of a package deal. If one was in trouble, they all were. Tony and he were probably even more connected in that way. If the roles were reversed and someone was trying to hurt Peter, they'd probably get around to hurting Mr. Stark too.

"Although..." Stark contemplated, cocking his head to the side as if he was thinking. "If you hadn't blown off the mission earlier today, maybe we would've actually gotten all of the Kovas instead of losing stragglers. Maybe I don't feel too bad."

Peter smirked and rolled his eyes. That sounded more like Mr. Stark.

"So they were that Sokovian group?"

"Uh-huh."

"How'd they know where I was? How'd they know who I was? I mean, I doubt they were coming after "Peter Parker"."

Tony sighed and rubbed his hands over his face.

"Well, first of all, driving around a 100,000 dollar sports car labeled 'Stark' isn't exactly inconspicuous. But as for who you are... Yeah, I don't know about that one. I'll figure it out while you lay low and give yourself time to heal up."

"Well, I don't need that per se. I think-"

"Hey, we made a deal remember? I'm calling you out, understand?"

Peter let his head fall back onto the stretcher in frustration. He hated being told that he couldn't be Spider-Man, even if it was just for a little while.

"Just for a bit, bud. Besides, the suit is not so effective if you're wearing a big-ass cast on your leg."

Almost as if on cue, a medic prodded Peter's leg. He shot up in the stretcher, retracting his shin and yelping.

"Mr. Parker, please. You have to stay still while we reset this."

"Why can't we wait until we get to the hospital? You know, where they can give me drugs?"

"If we don't do this now, it could lead to further complications and you didn't make it much better by walking on it." The sassy medic shot back. Peter shrunk back hesitantly and lied down once more, scooting his leg forward for the medics to "reset". His breathing had gotten a bit faster as he was now anticipating the pain to come. Peter gripped the edges of the stretcher and squeezed his eyes shut. He didn't know exactly what they were doing, but he did know that he didn't want to see it.

"Ah!" Peter screamed as they pushed at his undoubtedly broken bones. His reflexes had him rocketing up again, but Mr. Stark was faster with a hand on his shoulder to hold him down. Peter's breathes were jagged now, broken up with groans of pain.

"Deep breaths." Mr. Stark told him, giving Peter's shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "Think about anything else."

"Like what?" Peter asked bitterly through clenched teeth.

"Uh, let's see... Teenage boy things."

"And what's that supposed to be?"

"I don't know! Sex, drugs and rock 'n' roll?"

Peter laughed even against the pain. Tony chuckled, keeping a firm hand holding Peter down as he continued to be poked and prodded.

"You and I were very different teenagers."

"I think maybe my age is showing." Mr. Stark mused. It was quiet for a while. Peter found himself thinking back to his conversation with Ned right before the chaos started. Maybe Ned was kind of right... a little... sort of... Peter would never go as far as calling Tony Stark his "father-figure" out loud, but he guessed there was an unspoken "thing" there.

"You know, for a second, I thought it might be Flash?" Peter spoke up, his voice wavering from the continued agony in his leg.

"Hm." Mr. Stark snickered. "Yeah, that'd be a little overkill. What did I tell you about Mustangs though?"

Peter smiled for a moment before it turned into a grimace. He couldn't wait to get patched up and have this night be over. His head was still a bit fuzzy and he was exhausted. He felt the ambulance turn into the hospital parkway, and it was then when Tony spoke up again...

"Peter... Where's Ned?"

~ X ~

Ned shivered as a gust of wind greeted him. The boy swung in the wind, the tendrils of the webbing not offering release anytime soon. Cars whizzed underneath him as the sun began to set down under the Earth, yet there Ned was... there he still was.

Ned dialed Peter's number again, holding his phone up to his ear and getting voicemail for the 14th time.

Ned hung up and sighed. He hoped his friend was okay. He also hoped he'd get down from there soon. Someone would have to get him eventually, right? Maybe he should just call the police.

Ned brought his phone up to his face once again, but his hand fumbled. The cell phone flipped over his fingers and despite his efforts to reach out with his other hand, it tumbled to the ground and was stampeded by cars.

Ned huffed and crossed his arms over his chest as another gust of wind sent him in a back and forth motion.

Typical.

A/N: That's the end of this short, fluffy Tony and Peter story... I'm thinking of doing a whole bunch of short little stories of Peter and Tony's adventures. Would that be something that interests people?

Let me know, and please feel free to share your thoughts about this story in particular. Thank you!