Bruce Banner
Just to clarify: he has never done this before. For fucks sake, he hasn’t even thought about it before. If he were to be asked whether or not he would be going through with this particular plan even a week ago he would have scoffed indignantly and praised himself to at least be of a higher intellect than that.
But desperate times, right? The compound was the best, and frankly only super enhanced ‘hospital’ in the world. It’s not like he could stumble into St. Mary’s ER on 3rd and explain that they needed to stitch him up before his genetically modified skin started healing on its own.
And besides, most of the Avengers---- Tony included, were deployed. So the worst that happens is FRIDAY learns more than he’d like, and he’d already programmed her to keep a secret.
So that is how he rationalizes climbing into his bedroom window at the tower in full Spider-Man suit. He’d even called Tony’s cell and faked a science question just to make sure his father was actually in Singapore. He’d asked FRIDAY if Steve was home, or if Nat or Clint decided to make a surprise visit and everything was coming up negative. So yeah, he was taking a gamble that nothing would immediately bring them home, but considering Peter could almost see his innards through the gash in his side---it was a bet he was willing to take.
Spider-Man was able to slip in without too much trouble considering he’d planned for the impossible scenario of this very moment. His bed was positioned just so he could tumble onto it, and remembering he was alone in this tower he let himself groan through the pain dramatically. Was it his fault he’d tried to flip around the knife rather than disarm immediately? Yes. Was he going to survive it? Sure. Was he going to be dramatic as hell and plan out his funeral anyway? You bet.
He worked up the nerve to stand, clutching his side and ignoring the acid reflux he felt build up in his throat when his hands coated in his own blood. He was a superhero! He kicks ass and takes names, and he’s already kicked some ass. Blood should not be fazing him the way it was! But whether it was the odd discoloring on his skin around the contusion, or the way he just knew it wasn’t healing right, was making him just a bit light headed. The large, full body mirror on the back of his door just confirmed that his paling skin was a coming sign of the rapture. He was so fucked.
“Welcome home, Peter.”
“yeah, yeah.” Peter groaned at FRIDAY. “this stays between us, okay? Parker override.”
Inside the mask, Karen was showing him his own vitals, the bars fluctuating between ‘EXTREME DANGER’ and ‘EMERGENCY’. His heart beat was beating so rapidly he probably could have counted the beats just by the number of times it pounded against his chest, and the approximate time until Peter passed out was proudly displayed center screen. It gave him a generous ten minutes. So despite the unfortunate strain of air through spandex, he kept the mask on, slowly making his way to the labs. What he really needed were stitches, but with his rapid healing he needed those ones Tony had made specifically for someone of Steve’s super-DNA.
“Karen, please write in my will that I want ‘mmmm whatcha say’ to play at my funeral. Ned will know what it means.”
Karen pinged in agreement, and Peter decided that if he survived this (and that was a big if) that he would program the sarcasm right out of her motherboard. She knew he was kidding, and still, he could hear the faint sounds of Jason Derulo in his ears. At least she’d stopped asking to dial Tony.
He arrived at the glass door of the 30th floor lab just as he started getting spots in his vision. He punched in the general access code sloppily, and when the door opened his strength gave out and he fell to his knees. He definitely hit something on his way down that clattered and toppled to the floor with a bang, but honestly that was the least of his concerns. Steve and Bucky would surely be back in a couple of hours and finding an unconscious Spider-Man in their living room might sound some alarms. All he needed was something to stop the bleeding and maybe like… twenty minutes of sleep. This particular patch of flooring was quite comfortable, maybe he would apply pressure later…
“Hello?” A voice called from deep in the labs, snapping Peter’s attention at full alert. In that moment Peter literally prayed for death. He was bleeding out on the floor of his father’s workspace, and hiding the biggest secret since Hannah Montana, so yeah if the grim reaper pointed his scythe at Peter’s chest he probably wouldn’t fight it too much.
“Karen, voice modifier.” Spider-Man whispered quietly.
“You got it.” It clicked into place just as Peter saw a pair of feet hustle into view. They were clean cut lab technician sneakers, so that ruled out Tony’s ‘working converse’.
“Hey, how’s it going?” Peter asked casually, as if he wasn’t lying face down in the middle of a lab he shouldn’t be in. The person immediately rushed to his side, tenderly pushing him up to rest his back against the counter. While the movement was strenuous, the angle his body was now at was definitely less excruciating. When he didn’t feel like passing out anymore, he focused on the face now staring down his mask and holding his stomach tightly.
“What happened? Are you alright?”
Bruce Banner. In medical terms, this was fantastic news. None of his PhDs were medical but surely he’s stitched a stab or two being friends with Tony. Peter’s plan to self-stitch was flawed at best considering the one time he’d tried sewing he couldn’t even thread the needle. Bruce was experienced enough to not just say “that’s rough, don’t die”, but to actually offer some helpful information. Like why his gash had a heartbeat.
However in secret life terms, this was shit. Bruce was one of Tony’s best, and ----sorry dad---but only friends. So if he saw the face behind the mask, the wrath of Tony would descend upon an unsuspecting Avengers tower.
“Would you believe I tripped?” Peter asked, voice thankfully warped by Karen’s generous contributions.
Bruce began the inspection without missing a beat. “Into a knife? Sure, I believe it.”
Involuntarily, Peter laughed and the motion nearly split his body in two. The wound was on his bottom right side, just above his hip and below his rib cage but it felt like it was snaking up his body, shocking all of his nerves simultaneously. He could feel it every which way he moved, and with the sweat accumulating all over his form he wanted nothing more than to rid himself of this spandex prison.
Bruce put his hands on either side of the cut and while surely the motion was meant to be tender, it felt like he was being stabbed all over again.
“Ouch!” a hiss escaped through his teeth and he couldn’t help but wonder whether death was preferable. I mean, it was only a matter of time until Bruce ripped the mask from his head, told Tony, and then Tony killed him so really, what was the problem in speeding up the process? At least Tony’s would be quick what with the rage consuming him. This was just torture, plain and simple.
“Sorry… sorry.” Bruce apologized, regardless of the fact he literally had nothing to apologize for. “I’m going to help you up, alright? I can work better on the table.” Peter nodded dumbly in response and allowed for the doctor to slip an arm under his shoulders and hoist him up. In an effort to keep his groans down to a minimum, Peter bit down on his lip so hard he started to taste copper.
The walk to the medical table was a mere ten feet, maximum, but with his steps miscalculated and sloppy it felt like it took years to get there. Bruce was even shouldering most of the weight, and still Peter felt the urge to collapse on spot every step. Eventually they reached the platform, and Peter swears he saw the bright white light when he had to fold to get on the table.
“This thing got infected fast. What were you hit with?” Bruce’s glasses fell to the bottom of his nose as he worked on the cut. Peter blinked back the little black spots in his vision and noticed that the slashed bits of Peter’s suit were clamped apart to keep Bruce’s work space free but other than that, Bruce did not tamper with the suit. His heart was beating rapidly at the prospect of being exposed, and the added pressure of knowing treating an infection would not be the simple stitches he’d hoped for. He gripped the sides of the table so hard they started to warp.
“Street muggers. I’m assuming their knives are about as clean as a Wendy’s bathroom toilet brush.” Peter answered mindlessly. Talking was definitely helping distract from the fact that Bruce was wiping down Peter’s cut---a move that inevitably preceded sterilizing the wound.
“And they attacked you? Doesn’t seem like such a good idea to attack a vigilante.”
Peter shook his head, trying and failing to look anywhere but at Doctor Banner’s hands. “No, I wasn’t the target I just stepped in when-----“ Peter hissed and bit back a scream. The pain was reaching unbearable levels. Instead a breathless gasp, like he’d just been punched in the stomach escaped as he blinked back tears. He definitely seized up, but Bruce’s surprisingly strong hands held him down.
“Keep going.” He instructed, continuing to clean the wound as if Peter hadn’t just left his physical form at the electric-like shock.
“when…when….” Where was he before he saw the grim reaper? Oh yeah… “When I picked it up on my rounds. Some girl had chosen the wrong alley to walk along at night and I wanted to help. I didn’t realize until I was hit that they had back up. The girl’s okay though. A little shaken, but okay.”
Bruce hmmm at that, clearly focusing. The constant prick of pain was present, but significantly lessened then when Peter contemplated death on the floor. He could still feel nausea prodding at his innards like an uninvited houseguest but Peter tried the ‘talking’ tactic instead of the throwing up while still in mask route.
“What are you doing here, anyway?” Until this very moment Peter had sincerely thought that Bruce & Thor were still ‘on leave’. He hadn’t seen him in almost a year, so asking whether Bruce was at the compound had evaded Peter’s notice previously.
Banner’s eyebrow quipped, and he spared a quick glance to look at Spider-Man when he said “Shouldn’t I be asking you that?”
Right. It’s Peter Parker who has unlimited access to the tower, not the friendly neighborhood spider-man. Luckily, he remembers quick the numbers Tony gave to people like Daredevil, The Wasp, and yes, Spider-Man should they ever need a place to lay low and lick their wounds. It wasn’t unrestricted access by any means but it did give him an excuse as to how he broke into a professionally secured building.
“Iron Man gave us some limited access code should we ever find ourselves suddenly… stabbed. Thought he’d be here though, where is everyone?” Peter knew exactly where they were, but he’d play dumb if that saved him some critical stealth points. Besides, Bruce had finally finished torturing Peter with antibiotics and catching his breath between responses seemed as good a plan as any.
Bruce started to gather the more intensive tools as he spoke and Peter’s stomach did a flip. “Off saving the world. Apparently Tony---- Iron Man’s former business partner Justin Hammer tried to kill him and the team answered the call immediately.”
Peter jerked up at that, “Someone tried to kill him?” What the hell, dad? First he proposes and doesn’t tell Peter shit, and then he almost dies and again neglects to tell him shit. This is why Peter keeps his mask firmly on because if Tony doesn’t think he can handle this, then he’d never trust him to swing into battle. He’s not asking for the codes to the Manhattan project here, just to get a call every now and then that his dad experiences a major life event.
“Yeah, if you knew him you’d understand.” Bruce joked. If it were anybody else, Peter might have been offended, but people like Bruce and Rhodey got exclusive ‘make fun of Tony’ privileges after all the shit they’d gone through. And considering Peter was very much in the dark about the happenings of Tony Stark, maybe he did too.
“Seems like I don’t know him well enough…” Peter murmured, more so to himself than Bruce. Other than one very obvious exception, Peter thought they didn’t keep secrets from each other.
“You can relax you know.” Bruce said, referencing Peter’s iron grip on the table. Now that the wound was cleaned, Bruce was holding the necessary requirements for stitches, but the rigidity of Peter’s form must have been enough of an inconvenience for Bruce to mention it. Peter released his hands, but the tension in his stomach was still packed intensely like a Molotov cocktail waiting to explode.
“What’s got you so stressed? Is it me? I promise I haven’t… gone green in years.”
Peter was yet again thankful for the mask as it hid his admittedly extreme reaction. How could Bruce, the man currently saving his life, think Peter was afraid of him? Bruce, without question was the one Avenger who had never elicited fear from Peter. He’d even brought Peter back a souvenir (that wasn’t a beer stein, @thor) from his last trip to Asgard. The Hulk, Peter couldn’t vouch for, but Bruce Banner was the one person in this world who truly meant well in everything he did.
“No! No, it’s not you. Thank you, by the way, for your help. I just… there’s a lot going on.” Peter finished lamely. Like, I’m lying to you and everybody I love, but hey what’s new with you?
Bruce moved closer towards Peter’s torso, needle in hand. “Why don’t you tell me about it?”
Thanks to his previous experience with the sterilization he knew that talking through the pain was the best course of action, but did he really trust himself not to slip and reveal everything? I mean once Peter starts talking it gets increasingly difficult to filter his words. With the first poke of the needle on tender skin, he decided fuck it, anything was better than stewing.
“I----I’ve got this secret. That I can’t tell anyone because it would change everything and hurt a lot of people. And I can’t… stop the secret because more people would get hurt that way. And it’s not like its bad or anything, but… It just feels like no matter what I do, I’m always making the wrong choice.”
He hadn’t really said it out loud until then. Huh. So that’s what that feels like.
“I see.” Bruce said calmly. “Have you thought about telling just one person? That way you might share some of the burden, not carry such a heavy weight on yourself?”
Peter sighed. Yes, he had thought of that and fuck would he love to. But if he told anyone in his immediate family, they’d all feel that moral obligation to tell Tony and then Peter’s spider suit would be thrown into the nearest entrance to Tartarus. Ned was the only one unbiased enough to know, and Ned couldn’t relate to the superhero dilemma at all.
“I’ve… thought about it. But my family is pretty powerful. I tell one person, and the whole family knows and then it’s not a secret anymore.”
“And does it have to be a secret?”
If it were anybody else but Bruce asking, Peter would have scoffed. But Bruce meant it so sincerely that Peter actually questioned it. What if he followed in his father’s footsteps and with no fear or trepidation said “I am Spider-Man” to the world? Sure life at school would change and people would treat him different, but was it really worse than this? This constant state of panic that he might be outed in a way that topples the tower his life was built on? And it has been two years since the bite. Not to mention, a year since he’d started frequenting Avengers meetings, so if he told everybody now… they’d never trust him again. Especially in the middle of this wedding season with Steve just joining the family, he couldn’t weigh them down, not when they were so happy. It may not be perfect, but things are better the way they are. He had his chance to come clean the day after Oscorp & he’d rejected it, so it was time to lay in his own badly made bed.
“I think so.” Peter mused sadly, wincing slightly at the prick of pain that came from the stitches Peter had genuinely forgotten were being threaded through him.
“Sorry.” Bruce apologized again. His stitches were far from over, but as the pain subsided so did Peter’s will to stay awake. The adrenaline must be wearing off, and all the stamina used from stressing about imminent death made his body feel weak. After all the chaos of the day, somehow getting stitched up was the calmest he’s been in a while.
“I’m assuming this ‘secret’ refers to…” Bruce gestured vaguely at Peter, clearly referencing the spider suit.
“Yeah.” Peter yawned simply.
Bruce would understand, right? And with how calm and collected he was now, surely Bruce would keep Peter’s secret, right? If it was a safety thing he could call Bruce on patrol, and if it was a Tony thing… well, let’s hope it’s not a Tony thing. He decided to test the waters.
“What about you? If you had the chance to keep your other life a secret… where no one knows what you’re capable of, and you separate one major part of your life from the other, would you? Even if it means lying to the people that trust you wholeheartedly?”
“Without question.” Bruce answered immediately.
Before Peter can prod further, Bruce cuts the excess string and wipes down Peter’s now closed wound once more. The smallest remnants of a smile dotted his lips and Peter could tell he was proud of his work. And for what it’s worth, Peter is proud of it too. “All patched up.” He says, returning to his tray and picking up the gauze.
“Thank you, Dr. Banner.” Peter says sincerely. Whether he’s referencing the advice or the medical attention he’s not sure, but he is grateful for both. Knowing he’s worn out his welcome, he moves to get up before the stitches in his side scream in protest.
“woah woah woah.” Bruce says, gently guiding Peter’s head back down when it swims with black spots again. “I may have stitched you up, but you’re not done yet. I want to run a hemolysis test, that infection isn’t over yet.”
When Peter found himself still lying on the cool metal, he couldn’t help but think how unnaturally comfortable this was. Well if he was going to stay here, he might as well close his eyes for five minutes...
-------------------------------------------
“Bruce, you’re not even curious? You saved his life, I’m sure that warrants you knowing whose life it is you saved.”
“No, Rhodes. I said I wouldn’t, and I don’t plan on breaking that.”
“He’s got access to the tower, where we all live. Not to mention, he knows all of our real names… Don’t you think we deserve to know who is beneath the mask?”
“He had several chances when he was breathing through a panic attack to take the mask off, but clearly it’s important. I’m not going to betray that. Doctor-patient confidentiality.”
“You’re not a real doctor.”
“And we’re not the government.”
When Peter wakes up, the lights have dimmed and only the smallest sounds of movement can be heard. There’s the gentle tapping on glass every few seconds, a steady beeping to his right, and the sure sound of heartbeats in the distance. He recognizes the voices, but considering his groggy mind has only just started working, he doesn’t register them at first.
Fuck, he fell asleep. Fuck he fell asleep in front of Bruce! His hands fly to his face in a desperate attempt to prove he was still masked and the heart attack that was brimming just over the horizon ceases. It’s still there. On the inside, the screen is blank and it smells like someone died in it, but thanks to whatever deity was watching, it’s still there.
That beeping noise he’d noticed earlier started going a little crazy and suddenly Peter was no longer alone.
“You’re up!” It was Bruce who spoke first, and with genuine happiness dotting his face as he examines whatever was on the monitor next to Peter’s bedside. Behind Bruce stood Rhodey, and it was literally the first time Peter had ever seen him with a scowl directed at him. He’s seen it multiple times directed at Steve, or Sam, or most often Tony, but Rhodey had been his uncle since before the Avengers even assembled. He’d only ever addressed him with love.
Now he was a stranger. A stranger who didn’t seem to love the idea of an unidentified dude in spandex chilling on his work station.
“Welcome back, Spider-Man. Seems like you took quite a beating.” Rhodes greeted dryly.
“Yeah, you should see the other guy.” His voice is unmodified, but the scratchiness from dehydration, and the deep rumble of just having arisen masked his usual tone authentically. Neither Bruce nor Rhodes seemed to notice the pitch change.
Regardless of that fact Peter wanted to make a break for it as soon as possible. If Rhodes was here then that theoretically meant that all the Avengers were coming back from Singapore---- namely Tony. And while puffing out his chest and mimicking Thor’s tenor might fool his uncles, it would do nothing but alert his dad.
“Thank you again, Dr. Banner, but I really have to get going. Colonel Rhodes.” He nodded to each man respectively, and swung his legs off the table. They felt like jelly as they landed but his need to reach the outside world steadied him. He had just reached the door when Bruce spoke again.
“Hey, you know there’s a wedding coming up.” There was a miniscule chance that Banner was talking to Rhodes, but on that hope alone Peter turned. Considering Rhodes’ eyes were trained on Bruce in a ‘what the hell’ face, it became obvious that the sentence was meant for him.
“Tony & Steve, Iron Man & Captain America.” Bruce elaborated, clearly ignoring Rhodes’ signs to stop talking. And as much as he loved Bruce, he was honestly routing for Team Rhodes right now because what the hell? It’s not like Peter could walk in with a suit, tie, and spider mask to the biggest wedding of the century. What Bruce was really asking was if Peter would unmask in an arena that big, and in his mind, it was probably a gesture of good faith. “I’m sure they’d appreciate it if you came.”
Rhodes did not share the same sentiment. “It’s all very new, they don’t really have a guest list yet, Bruce…”
Yeah, new enough that Tony still hasn’t told Peter, he thought sourly.
“I’m a groomsmen, I figure I can add a +1.”
If Peter wasn’t confused by Bruce’s words before, he was definitely starting to think he was still asleep now. Groomsmen? Tony had already figured out his wedding party before telling Peter anything? Steve and Bruce were Peter’s main source of information now, and most of that was only told to the mask! Tony may have outed himself about being Iron Man, but apparently he keeps more secrets under the table.
“I uh… thanks. Can I get back to you on that?” Technically speaking, even Peter Parker wasn’t formally invited to the wedding yet. So yeah, he’d mark Spider-Man down as a hard maybe.
“Sure thing.” Bruce responded, much to the disapproving side-eye of the Iron Patriot. Bruce elected to ignore this and waved Peter goodbye. “Don’t strain yourself, Spider-Man. Those stitches aren’t knife proof.”
Peter only nodded in response, and left, still lost in his personal head space of what the hell was going on with Tony. Obviously with this whole reemergence of Justin Hammer, and proposing to his boyfriend business, he’s got a lot going on but they’d never been so out of sync his whole life. That was their whole thing---- that Peter Parker was basically Tony 2.0!
Deciding he’d like to be just Peter Parker now, Spider-Man exited the tower calmly. He walked the bustling streets of New York until he found a deserted alleyway, rid himself of the now shredded Spider-Man suit, and spent a good hour or so killing time before heading back to the tower.
‘Have you thought about telling just one person?’ the phrase played like an ominous loop in his mind as the elevator rose. He’d been playing the solo game for so long he’d almost forgot what it felt like to be in a team, but now that he dwelled on it… he missed it. The Avengers had his back, but only as casual friends, not like the family Peter so cherished. What if he trusted someone?
The only question now was who.