Chapter 3
“So they know everything about him?”
“Enough.”
Tony finally looked up at May, who was sitting across from him on the other side of a sleeping Peter. She brushed her thumb over Peter’s hand absent-mindedly, probably trying to process everything Tony had just told her.
“But you can fix it, right?”
Tony stared hard at Peter’s face, looked at the bandages and quickly-forming bruises. “I swear to God—I will keep your nephew safe, May. If it’s the last thing I do.”
Just then, the door swung open, and a tiny, middle aged woman shuffled into the room, staring down at a clipboard.
Tony brushed away his expression and replaced it with a smile. “Hey Doc.”
She looked at him briefly and huffed, seemingly unimpressed. She turned to May with more warmth. “You must be Peter’s aunt. I’m Dr. Lily, I’m sorry that we have to meet like this.” She have May a firm handshake.
May cleared her throat and nodded. Dr. Lily continued.
“We already conducted a few tests when Peter was brought in—” she glanced at Tony, “—but we’d like to run a few more when he’s regained consciousness.”
“Oh, yeah, about that. Pete already woke up, he’s just sleeping right now,” Tony said.
“Wait, really? And you didn’t think to call for someone?” Dr. Lily said, her forehead creasing.
Tony just looked at her helplessly. She exhaled.
“We’ll call for you as soon as he wakes up,” May said after a second, sending Tony a look that said, don’t piss off the nice doctor more than you already have.
“We sure will,” Tony said, smiling with his mouth closed.
Dr. Lily jotted something down on her clipboard. Tony was surprised her pen didn’t go through the paper.
“Well, as of right now we know that Peter has sustained some fairly significant head trauma,” she said, looking levelly between the two of them. “We just aren’t sure to what extent that trauma goes, or what specific areas of the brain have been affected. Though, now that the swelling’s gone down, we should be able to pinpoint the trouble spots.”
She paused, reading her notes. “I was surprised to see how quickly the swelling went down, and I’m also surprised at how soon Peter woke up.”
Tony leaned forward in his chair, elbows resting on his knees. “Yeah, how about that.”
“Anything you’d like to let me know, Mr. Stark?”
“Now that you mention it—I’ve been feeling this tingling in my left arm—probably nothing but I’ve been meaning to get it checked out—”
May talked over him and said, “Thank you, Doctor, we’ll call you when he’s awake.”
Dr. Lily stared at Tony for a moment longer before walking out.
“Jeez, what do you tell the pediatrician when you bring him for physicals?” Tony asked May once the door closed.
May managed to laugh a little. “That fast metabolisms and strong immune systems run in the family.”
Peter woke up to voices again, but they weren’t Tony and May’s. They sounded muted, like they were coming from a speaker. Peter opened his eyes a crack and saw that the T.V. across the room was on, some home improvement show.
He turned his head and saw May, her eyes glued to the screen. She startled at his movement and looked down, concern and relief mixing in her expression.
“Hey, sweetheart,” she said softly, pushing a piece of his hair away from his face. Peter took a deep breath; May always knew how to comfort him, make him feel safe.
He turned his head the other way and saw Tony. He immediately recalled how Tony upped Peter’s drugs to make him fall asleep; he glared at him half-heartedly.
“Yeah, yeah, cry me a river, wouldya?” Tony said, his face propped on his hand.
Peter opened his mouth to respond, but nothing came out. It was the weirdest thing; he knew what he wanted to say, but the words just wouldn’t come. He closed his mouth again. He tried to brush it off but he could tell that Tony had noticed.
“I’m going to get the doctor,” May said, standing up. Peter looked back to her and nodded.
As soon as the door closed behind her, Tony scooched closer to the bed and searched Peter’s face. “Talk to me kid, what’s going on?”
“I—” Peter struggled. “Um—” He huffed in frustration, scrunching his face up and trying to concentrate.
“Alright, relax, don’t pull a muscle.”
The door opened and in walked a short woman in a long white coat. Peter assumed this was his doctor. May shuffled in right behind her and returned to her seat by his bed.
“Hello, Peter, my name is Dr. Lily.” Her gaze was direct, but not cold. He waved weakly. “You were in a very serious accident several hours ago, do you remember?”
Peter glanced at Tony, who was staring at him pointedly. Peter looked back at the doctor and nodded.
“Well, you suffered multiple blows to the head, causing contusions to your brain. We did a CT scan when you came in, but I’m going to take you in for an MRI in a moment so we can fully assess the damage.”
Peter swallowed painfully. He could feel May’s hand on his arm, see Tony’s hand on his knee. He thought about the guys they had been fighting. They had those crazy weapons, but there was something else, something they’d said, something he couldn’t quite recall . . . .
“—you ready?” Dr. Lily was asking. Peter snapped back to attention and nodded again. “Well, alright then.”
“He’s afraid of small spaces,” Tony told Dr. Lily as one of the nurses helped Peter onto the tray of the machine.
“And that’s very common. We’ll try our best to make this as painless as possible,” she said.
The tray moved forward into the machine until Tony could only see Peter’s legs. May pressed her hands over her heart.
“He’ll be okay,” she said, more to herself than to Tony.
“I know he will,” he said anyway.
Dr. Lily had the image results ready, but Peter was already fast asleep by the time she came back to the room. Tony was exhausted; it was mid-afternoon the day after everything went down and he still hadn’t slept a wink. May had drifted off but startled awake when the door opened.
“We’ve determined which areas of Peter’s brain were affected,” Dr. Lily said, holding the MRI images. She seemed nervous. “Are either of you familiar with the Broca's area?”
May shook her head no, but Tony rolled his eyes. “No, but I would just love it if you told us.”
She hesitated before continuing. “The Broca’s area of the brain controls verbal speech. We won’t be sure until he’s awake, but Peter might have trouble forming the words he wants to say.”
Tony’s face flushed, remembering how hard Peter was trying to speak before. Dr. Lily rushed to finish her explanation.
“The good news is, he should be able to understand speech and form responses in his head. He’ll just be unable to verbalize effectively.”
“Good news,” Tony muttered, tapping his fingers against his knee and staring into space.
“His cerebellum was also affected, which will most likely hinder his fine motor skills. But we’ll just have to see.”
Her voice wavered, making Tony look up at her. She was obviously upset, her mouth a thin line. He suddenly felt bad for being disrespectful.
“Call for me when he wakes up and we’ll do some speech tests,” she said before walking out.
Tony sighed and got up from his chair to follow her. He kept his eyes down, not wanting to look at May.
He caught up to her halfway down the hall. “Hey, Doc,” he called.
She turned and stared at him, waiting for him to say something.
Tony cleared his throat. “I’m sorry for being such a dick, you don’t deserve it. It’s just—that damn kid . . . .” He trailed off.
“I’ve dealt with much worse than a little sarcasm, Mr. Stark,” she said, smiling a little. “Now go back and be with your intern.”
He squinted down at her, trying to figure out what she was thinking. But she just smiled and continued down the hall.
“Can you tell me what your name is?”
“P-Peter.”
“And your last name?”
“. . . Parker.”
Tony watched from the corner as Dr. Lily did the speech test with Peter. He watched as Peter’s face contorted with concentration, trying to push the words out of his mouth.
How could this be happening? Tony had assumed that with Peter’s healing factor, he’d be fine after a good rest. The ribs would take a little longer to mend, but he thought the speech thing would be an easier fix. Apparently not.
Dr. Lily pulled a couple laminated cards from her pocket. They had pictures of different animals on them.
“What is he, four?” Tony asked incredulously. Peter frowned at him and he quickly apologized.
Dr. Lily ignored him. “What is this?” She asked Peter, holding up one of the pictures.
There was a pause as Peter squinted at the card, but then— “Dog,” he said.
“Good, and this?” Dr. Lily asked, now holding a picture of an elephant.
“E-el . . . Um . . .” Peter blew air from his nose and averted his eyes. “Can’t,” he said.
“Here, try writing it down, it might help,” Dr. Lily said, handing him a pad of paper and a pen.
Peter’s fingers gripped the pen stiffly, like a first grader might hold one. He started to write an “E,” but the lines were all shaky. Tony sucked in a breath.
Before he knew it he was moving across the room. It must have looked bad, but he had to get out, get away from everything. He couldn’t let Peter see him break down.
“Tony?” He heard May call after him. He didn’t stop, didn’t even turn around.
He was barely out of the room before he whipped his phone out and dialed a number.
“Hello?” A voice said after a few rings.
“Strange, get your magical ass down to Queens General. I need your help.”
Peter waited for Tony to come back in the room, but he never did. He barely paid attention as Dr. Lily said her goodbyes. May ran a hand down his cheek and he focused on her face. She looked sad.
“It’s alright, Peter, he’ll be back,” she said. He nodded and turned away from her hand. “I’m gonna stop by the apartment and grab some of your stuff, okay? Just some clothes and your pillow. Sound good?”
Peter nodded again, this time with a small smile.
“I love you, Peter.”
“. . . You too.”
“Brains are tricky,” Strange said.
“Why does everyone keep saying that?” Tony grumbled.
Strange had walked through one of his sparkly portals a few minutes ago. A panicked Tony immediately bombarded him, trying to explain what had happened to Peter.
“I’m a doctor, I should know, Stark.”
“Yeah, well, you’re a wizard too. There’s gotta be one spell—”
“Tony—”
“Just look at him for me, please—” Tony was practically yelling now.
“Okay, okay, I will,” Strange said, motioning for Tony to calm down.
“Thank you,” Tony said. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes.
“Tony,” Strange said softly. Tony looked up. “It’s not your job to protect everyone.”
Tony didn't miss a beat. “But it’s my job to protect him.”
Peter must have dozed off. He felt movement to his left and turned his head.
“Tony?” He slurred.
“Nope,” the man standing over him said matter-of-factly. Peter’s eyes snapped open.
The man was doing something to Peter’s I.V. bag. “W-what—” Peter started to say, reaching out a hand to stop him. But his arm fell right back to the bed. Whatever the guy had done made his limbs feel like lead, made his tongue feel heavy in his mouth.
“Don’t strain yourself, there, Spidey,” the man said, voice even and relaxed. “Or should I just call you Peter?”
The monitor beeped as Peter’s heart rate rose. The man took the clip off his finger and it stopped.
“We were gonna wait to kill you,” he said, moving to the door and locking it. He walked back to the bed and grinned down at Peter. “But you got hurt, didn’t you?”
The man pressed on Peter’s side, making him cry out from the pain of his broken ribs. He grabbed at the man’s wrist weakly.
The man pulled his hand away and continued. “We saw a wonderful opportunity. Why should we give you the chance to recover? It might not be honorable, but . . .”
Peter could only stare up at him in horror. His heart was beating wildly now, from panic or from the drug the guy gave him, he wasn’t sure.
“H-how do—how do you—”
“How do we know about you?” The man said, still smiling. “Well, Pete, we both know you won’t be winning any awards for secret keeping.”
Peter felt another surge of panic and tried to sit up, to get away, call for help, anything. But the man simply pushed him back down, holding him there, and he was too weak to fight it.
After a moment, the man’s expression changed. “You know what? Let’s speed things up, shall we?” And with that, he proceeded to cover Peter’s mouth with his hand.
Peter’s hands flew up, clawing at the fingers clamped over his face. The man used his other hand to pinch his nose closed, cutting off all the air, all the sweet, precious air that Peter needed, he needed air—
He tried to scream for help but all he could do was make a choking sound as he tried to breathe, but he couldn’t, he couldn’t breathe—
He kept pulling at the man’s fingers, trying to pry them away from his face, but everything felt heavy, and he was so tired—
The room went dark around the edges until all he could see was the man’s face floating above his own, and there was no air, no air—
“He’s right in—”
“What is it?”
“The door’s locked.”
Tony jiggled the handle for another second before getting a better look through the window. And saw a figure standing over Peter, his back to the door.
“What the—Hey!” Tony yelled. The man didn’t react.
“Tony, stand back,” Strange said, already moving his hands to form a spell. A moment later, the door burst open and Tony ran inside, Strange right behind him.
What Tony saw made him lose it: a strange man suffocating a barely conscious Peter. Tony could see tears in his eyes, see his hands starting to slip away from the man’s fingers, and his heart shattered before he ripped the man off and said, voice low, “Get the fuck away from him.”
Peter gasped, suddenly able to breathe, coughing on the exhale and rolling onto his side.
The man just smiled down at Tony, who was holding him in place. He was large, several inches taller and much bulkier than Tony was. But he didn’t move to escape Tony’s grip. He just smiled.
“Better luck next time, I suppose,” the man said.
“I don’t think so, pal,” Strange said, making handcuffs out of his magic. But before they could actually restrain him, he fell. Through the floor.
“The hell,” Tony said, looking down at his feet to where the man had disappeared. But Peter was still breathing hard, so Tony let Strange investigate.
“Kid, what’s wrong?” Tony started to panic. Peter was on his side, hand pressed to his chest as he heaved in air. Tony put his fingers to Peter’s neck.
“Oh my god, Peter, your heart’s about to beat out of your chest,” Tony said, really panicking now. “What did he do to you?”
Peter tugged at his I.V. and gestured with his head to the drip above the bed. He gasped some more, trying to say something, but nothing came out of his mouth.
“He drugged you?” Peter nodded, coughing. “Shit,” Tony said, already moving to yank the tube from Peter’s arm.
“Stark,” Strange said, like a warning. Tony didn’t stop. “Tony, please, let me do it.”
Tony looked up at that, seeing the fear he was feeling mirrored in Strange’s face. He nodded and stepped back.
Once Strange got the tube out, Peter almost immediately relaxed, rolling onto his back and taking slow, full, rattling breaths. Tony let his shoulders slump.
“Thanks,” Peter whispered, tears rolling down his cheeks. He closed his eyes and was out cold.
Tony took out his phone and rubbed a hand down his face. May picked up on the first ring. “Hey, change of plans,” he began.