It was almost the end of the mission. Peter had used his web fluid to patch a stab wound on his back from the very start of the fight, but he wasn’t sure how good of a job he’d done considering he kept leaving spatterings of blood everywhere.
No matter. In a couple minutes he could hitch a ride on the Quinjet and get his injury patched up properly.
Peter’s spidey sense went off before he heard Tony’s quick shout, “Kid! Incoming!”. He turned just in time to take the blunt of the hit head on and found himself cracking a brick wall a couple of disorienting seconds later. Peter gasped for air, all of it having left him in one big rush on impact.
He tried to push himself up from where he was collapsed against the wall, but as soon as he tipped his head forward, he felt a wave of nausea and weightlessness. When he felt for the back of his head, his hand came away sticky. Peter groaned and slumped back down, unable to control his movements past sporadic jerks of limbs and frankly pitiful attempts at getting to his feet.
Fine, Peter thought, huffing our a painful breath of air as his head felt lighter and lighter, doomed to die at the ripe old age of 16 it is. Before he managed to get up, Tony was there, faceplate retreated back into the armor.
“Woah woah woah, kid. Easy there. Just-“ Tony grunted at the effort of moving to assist Peter, the Iron Man suit dented around his midsection and obviously causing him considerable discomfort. “Cap, mind helping me out with the spider kid over here?” he asked into the comms.
Peter didn’t hear a response. His super hearing and vision were going in an out: one moment his senses were 11, the next 1. The most his brain was processing was Tony’s lined face, his own pain, and the odd proportions of the Iron Man suit. The latter was causing him considerable amusement.
“Mr. Stark.” he lazily giggled. That caught Tony’s attention immediately.
“Yeah kid?” His tried to bend down as far as he could to help Peter, his hands hovering over his head. The position only made Peter laugh harder.
“Mr. Stark,” his words were sluggish, “you have the body of a Disney Princess.” This time Peter’s laughter was muffled by painful cough. He grimaced for a moment before he remembered why he had been laughing and another fit of giggles overcame him.
“Mr. Stark you look-“ Peter was being lifted into the air, “like a, like a-“ his head lolled on a large chest, “a princess! like a real-“ he bared his teeth in a grin at where he thought Mr. Stark was, “real-life disney princess!” he was set down on something long and soft.
Peter gazed upwards at the man in question in amazement. Through his hazy vision, Mr. Stark looked like a blur of fire. “Mr. Stark-“ Peter started, words beginning to slur through his sleepy grin as a needle was slipped into the crook of his elbow, “you’re th’ sun an’ I’ Icar’s.”
Moments later, Peter fell into a blissful sleep, unaware of the concerned Avengers hovering around him.