"You Had One Job!"
It was supposed to be like ‘The Good ‘Ol Days’, the original six heading out on a mission together.
Until Y/N’s dad, Tony, decided it would be a great time to mentor his new protege, Spider-Man. AKA, the one person Y/N did not want out in the fray.
“What if he gets hurt?” Y/N asked her father as he suited up for the mission, “how long has he even been doing this?”
“Longer than you’d think,” he answered, waiting a moment before putting his mask on in order to address Y/N, “listen, we’ll keep that kid safe. I don’t know why you’re so worried-”
“Dad, you’ve never even let me go on missions!” Y/N argued, lying through her teeth as she came up with an excuse, “your own daughter! And yet you’re tossing this poor kid into this?”
“He can handle it,” Tony said before his mask enclosed on his face, his voice becoming more mechanical as the suit’s eyes lit up, “Just watch the screens, Y/N.”
“I know, I know,” Y/N groaned, “be safe.”
“When haven’t I been?” he quipped, leaving the room and heading towards the Quinjet.
Y/N cradled her head in their hands. There was only so much she could do by watching behind screens and shouting directions into the comms.
Only so many ways she could protect her boyfriend, Peter Parker.
* * * *
“Hostile on your left, Cap,” Y/N directed, noticing the camouflaged figure in the footage streaming from Tony’s suit.
“On it,” Steve responded, professionalism tinting his voice as he turned to his opponent. He slammed his shield against their helmeted head, knocking them cold in seconds.
It was a simple, but important mission. They had to flush out an old HYDRA base, one of the many remaining pockets of the dying organization. Y/N’s job was to make sure no one did anything stupid, an impossible task when it came to her weird, dysfunctional family.
She sat in front of a row of computers, headset and microphone nestled among her hair. She leaned back in an old, worn swivel chair as she stared at the glaringly bright screens. This was how she took part in missions, offering guidance and assisting from the safety of the tower.
“Kid,” Tony said to Peter, “scope out the next few rooms, stick to the ceilings.”
“Yes, sir!” Peter answered eagerly, climbing up onto the ceiling.
“Stick to the shadows, Spidey,” Y/N advised as they watched Peter crawl in plain sight.
“Oh, right,” he chuckled awkwardly at his mistake.
“This kids lack of stealth offends me,” Clint said to Y/N privately, making sure that Peter couldn’t hear his remark.
Y/N grit her teeth, “You’re not as sneaky as you think you are, everyone hears you crawling through the vents.”
“C’mon Y/N,” he teased, “relax a little.”
Y/N took a deep breath, she couldn’t let her nerves interfere with the mission, “Sorry, sorry.”
She examined the footage from both Peter’s and Tony’s suits. Nothing out of the ordinary, if you considered the large fight that Peter had managed to get himself in ‘ordinary’.
Y/N swallowed, fear curled around her insides like a snake as she watched Peter fight off the group of armed guards.
“Somebody help Spider-Man,” she spoke into the mic, “he’s managed to get himself into trouble.”
“No! No! It’s fine, I got this,” Peter argued, trying to reassure himself. He webbed two of the thugs to the wall, only five were left. He kicked the legs out from underneath one of them, sending their gun flying across the room as they fell to the floor.
“Nat, can you help him?” Y/N asked, ignoring Peter’s request.
“Right away,” Natasha answered. Y/N watched from the perspective of Peter’s suit, letting out a sigh of relief as they spotted Natasha run in and take out a few of the guards.
Y/N continued to watch the fight, the two eventually managed to subdue the final five guards. Y/N could tell that Peter was feeling accomplished.
“Good job you two,” Y/N complimented, “anything of interest in that room?”
“No, just storage,” Nat replied, looking around and taking in the many wooden crates stacked up to the ceiling.
Y/N’s dad flew into the room, scanning the boxes for anything that could be intriguing.
“What do you see?” Y/N asked Tony.
“Weapons, chemicals, a few kevlar vests,” he listed, his suit displaying the faint outline of the objects as they lay in the crates.
Y/N turned to another screen, observing Peter’s point of view as he crawled around the ceiling, resuming her father’s previous orders.
Suddenly, a subtle movement caught Y/N’s attention. A slight rustling at the lower right-hand corner. She saw the outstretched hand, and her eyes widened once she realized what the hand was holding.
“Dad, look out!” she shouted into the mic.
Tony whirled around, but not before the guard fired their gun. The loud gunshot echoed throughout the room, and time seemed to slow as Y/N watched the bullet rapidly approach her father’s chest.
He would have been fine. His suit would’ve protected him.
But in that moment, as adrenaline coursed through Peter’s veins, he acted on instinct.
He leaped down from his position, and Y/N could only watch in silent terror as he took the shot. A strangled scream escaping her lips as the bullet embedded itself into his right arm.
Peter collapsed onto the ground, landing painfully on his injured arm.
“Oh God,” Y/N whimpered.
Tony immediately fired at the guard, they fell over onto the ground, completely limp. He rushed over to Peter, staring in shock as Peter clutched at his injured arm.
“What? What’s happening?” Thor asked from another room, his confused voice interrupting the silence that had settled over the comms.
“Karen,” Y/N calmly called on Peter’s AI, or at least she hoped she sounded calm, “relay status.”
“Severing of brachial artery, possible blood loss of 0.5 gallons. Hypovolemic shock imminent,” Karen diagnosed.
A steady stream of bright red blood spurted from the wound, already forming a puddle on the ground.
“Somebody apply pressure,” Y/N ordered, panic beginning to overpower her usual calm and collected demeanor.
Nat ran over beside Peter, kneeling next to him as she pressed two gloved hands against the wound. The pressure partially stifled the seemingly endless flow of blood.
Peter ripped off his mask with his left hand, the footage from his suit cutting out. Luckily (or unluckily) Y/N could still see him from her dads perspective.
A thin layer of sweat had already gathered on his too-pale face. He gasped desperately for air, breathing quick and fast.
“I think shock has set in,” Y/N said obviously, voice rising an octave from fear.
“You think so?” her dad replied sarcastically, but he was worried regardless.
“We need to get him out of there. He needs to be back at the tower.”
“I have no idea what’s happening, you guys,” Bruce interrupted, ”I don’t think I’ve done anything useful–”
“Shut up!” Y/N snapped.
“Y/N, I’m going to need you to calm down,” Tony said soothingly.
“You had one job!” Y/N yelled, tears welling up in her eyes.
“Y/N relax, please,” Tony begged, “Thor, get in here.”
The god entered the room, immediately noticing the boy who was curled up on the floor.
“Bring him back to the tower,” Tony ordered.
Thor simply answered yes, he had heard Y/N’s freak out and knew better than to argue. He picked up Peter, his head lolling back in his arms, and flew off.
“I’m signing off,” Y/N rasped, drowning in fear.
“Y/N,” Nat said pleadingly.
“Peter will need medical attention, I’ll see to it,” Y/N said defensively, not allowing anyone to speak before turning off her mic and switching off the screens.
She allowed the scream that she had been holding in to bubble to the surface, it came rushing out of her mouth in an almost primal rage. Scaring those who remained in the tower.
“Holy shit, what happened?” Sam shouted, running into the room.
“I’m fine,” Y/N sobbed, fruitlessly brushing away tears.
“Is something wrong?” Bucky inquired, following Sam into the room.
“I said, I’m fine,” Y/N said angrily.
“Did someone get hurt?” Sam asked tactlessly, Bucky nudged him less than subtly.
“Can you please leave me alone?” Y/N asked sadly. Looking up at them with watering eyes.
“C’mon,” Sam said to Bucky as he turned and left the room, leaving Y/N with her thoughts.
Y/N took a deep, calming breath in order to regain her senses. Peter and Thor would be here soon, and she couldn’t let them see her like this.
Especially not Peter.
* * * *
“Can you explain to me what happened back there?” Y/N’s father asked, crossing his arms and frowning slightly.
“I just–I just panicked,” Y/N lied meekly, sitting beside Peter as he lay unconscious on the hospital bed.
The mission had proved to be uneventful. The team had flushed out the remaining HYDRA soldiers, and had found more information on the location of more bases. Tony had filled her in once the team had returned.
Peter had only needed a blood transfusion and minimal artery repair, his incredible healing abilities did the rest. So now all Y/N had to do was wait for him to wake up from surgery. The news that he would be alright had relieved them instantly, washing away all fear and doubts like waves crashing against the shore.
“Y/N, I know you enough to be able to tell when you’re lying. You yelled at practically everyone on the team, do you want to talk?” Tony said kindly, sitting in the chair next to her.
She shifted in her seat awkwardly, choosing instead to watch Peter’s chest rise and fall as he breathed.
Tony lay a hand on her shoulder, rubbing his hand against her back comfortingly.
They sat in silence, both of them waiting patiently for Peter to regain consciousness.
Suddenly, after many minutes had passed, Peter broke into a coughing fit. The tubes attached to his arm thrashing like snakes as he convulsed.
“Get someone!” Y/N shouted at her dad, pressing the call button for good measure.
Tony rushed out of the room, calling for a nurse as he ran through the halls.
“Peter, Peter look at me,” Y/N whispered, placing a hand on his cheek.
He looked up at them, panic shining in his eyes as he stared confusedly. “Y/N what–”
“Shush, you’re fine. You’re alright. You’re safe,” she said gently, running a hand through his hair soothingly.
“I have to go, I’ve got to get back to Mr. Stark. Where-where am I?” he slurred, sitting up and trying to rip the tubes out of his arm.
“Woah, woah. Slow down, Peter,” Y/N said quietly, grabbing his hand to stop him from hurting himself. As he continued to struggle to get out of bed, Y/N connected her lips with his, calming him down immediately. He slowly sank back down into his pillows, closing his eyes drowsily. Y/N smiled and brushed his hair out of his face, pressing a kiss against his forehead protectively.
“Now I really need an explanation,” Tony interrupted angrily. The nurse he had brought with him ignored the oncoming family drama and rushed beside Peter.
“He was messing with his drip, make sure that’s okay,” Y/N advised, ignoring her father’s request.
“Don’t ignore me, Y/N. I want an explanation, now.”
Y/N spun around to face her father, “You want an explanation? Sure. Peter and I have been dating for a year and–”
“A year!?” Tony interrupted, unable to hide his shocked expression.
“Yes, a year,” Y/N continued, “and before you ask, yes, we’ve been using protection.”
“So you’re dropping this all on my now, huh? You’ve been dating underoos, my underoos, and you’ve been having sex with him? Were you ever planning to tell me?
“Yes, and no,” Y/N said, exasperated, “and this is why! You always make a big deal out of these things!”
“I think I’m allowed to be a little peeved that you two have been fucking like rabbits around the tower-”
“Dad!”
“Is that what those noises were? I had my suspicions but-
“Dad!”
“And you were keeping it a secret!”
Y/N took a deep breath, pinching the bridge of her nose in frustration, “We were going to tell you eventually, promise. Can you please not kill him just yet? I love him.”
Tony looked like he was about to plunge into another rant, but softened after seeing the genuine sadness in his daughters eyes.
“Alright, alright. I’m glad I actually know the kid and it wasn’t some fifty year old you met at-”
“Dad, I swear to God-”
“Mr. Stark?” Peter said blearily, lifting his head up from the pillows. The nurse was still doting on him, choosing to overlook the heated argument which had just unfolded.
“Yes, kid?”
“Are they going to cut off my arm?” he said deliriously before slumping over, falling asleep as soon as his head hit the pillows.
“On second thought-” Tony began.
“He may be an idiot, but he’s my idiot,” Y/N smirked, ending the argument.
Tony sighed loudly, but he couldn’t deny the way his heart had warmed when he saw the way she had looked at Peter.