Chapter 6
Bright lights and soft voices, paired with pressure on his ribs; that’s what Peter felt when he woke up. There wasn’t any pain, which was a relief, since before he was crying like a baby and it was honestly pretty embarrassing.
He struggled to open his eyes, but it remained dark, so he took to reassessing exactly what happened before he blacked out in the ambulance.
Oh, right. The guys in the bathroom. He mentally sighed. He didn’t really blame them. He was an easy target. Small, and with no education on self-defense, other than the few months of karate he took when he was 13. (He had quit, after complaining about his sore muscles and bruised hands to May.)
It happened all the time in the city, anyways. He was sure the police would find them quickly. They were stupid enough to mug someone in one of the busiest areas in Manhattan without covering their faces. They were drunk after all.
Peter never liked the idea of alcohol anyways. People always told him, “It just makes things more fun!” But truly, Peter never saw any good come out of it. Sometimes he would smell it on Mr. Stark in the-
Shit! Mr. Stark!!
And with that, Peter’s eyes flew open, and he startled awake, hearing the nurse make a surprised sound. She came over and pushed him down by his shoulders, cooing him to calm down, and fixing the machinery he had accidentally yanked his way. She steadied his IV, checking his pulse by putting her fingers on his wrist.
He took a few moments to breathe, adjusting to his surroundings; the white walls and floor that shone bright like snow at home, on early winter mornings in Queens. The smell was overwhelmingly chemical, but it was a hospital, so he supposed that was normal. He watched the nurse exit the door, peering at the in and out traffic in the hallways. The nurses who walked quickly, looks of concern and plastered smiles decorated their faces.
Watching them, he wondered about May. He was sure that she was worried, he hadn’t ever texted her that he arrived. Yeah, she was probably freaking out right now. He waved the nurse over as came in the room, and when he spoke he felt the faint tug and pain in his ribs.
“U-Um could you call my aunt, please?” She gave the nurse May’s number, and as she left the room, the doctor entered.
“Well kid, as you can probably tell you have a few broken ribs. Three to be exact.” The doctor was a younger man, probably in his early 40’s or late 30’s. His hair was slightly grey, but still dark and sleek. He was handsome, Peter had to admit. He had bright blue eyes, and a fairly strong stature. And since he was so young for a doctor, he had to be intelligent.
Peter bit his lip, nodding as the doctor pulled up the seat to sit at the edge of the bed. He glanced at his name tag. Stephen Strange, huh? That was a weird name, it almost sounded made up. “Well if that’s all it’s not too bad, right?”
“You’re pretty lucky, with how much your nose was bleeding we thought it was broken too, but it seems to be fine.” The doctor leaned in, examining his nose. The gloves were cold on his skin, and he shivered at his touch, and the surprise of the steadiness of his hands.
That freaked Peter out a little.
The doctor stood and glanced at the clock. His demeanor was cocky, he could tell that he knew what he was doing. He wore a slight smile that showed he truly enjoyed his job, but that he usually did far more than take care of broken ribs. “You should be released in a few hours. Is there anyone who can come get you?”
“I’ll be taking him.” Peter looked up quickly at the sound of the voice. It was matter-of-fact, and dripping with undertones of professionalism, but with that hint of sarcasm.
And he knew it well, and he saw exactly what he expected. The doctor stood, shaking his hand, obviously recognizing Tony in an instant. Tony shot Peter a smile, one that said it’s all taken care of, without a single word.
He watched the doctor and Tony interact with the doctor as they moved out in the hall to speak. Tony was still in his four piece suit, looking extremely out of place against the stark white contrast of the hospital. Stephen was much taller than him, by at least four inches, but they both held that strong aura of dominance, and it was overwhelming seeing them side by side.
Tony kept glancing in the room at Peter, and Peter did his best to pretend that he didn’t notice. He could see worry weighing down upon his brow, and his eyes seemed tired. A mixture of lack of sleep, and something else.
He watched as Stephen leaned down slightly and whispered something into Tony’s ear. Tony’s brow raised, and he met him with a grin. What was that all about? Stephen brushed his shoulder as he walked away, and Tony took a second to mask the grin on his lips, his eyes trailing after Stephen as he slinked away, back into the chaos of the emergency room.
Peter felt a tightness in his abdomen. He told himself it was just his ribs.