newyorknative | Plastic tubes and pots and pans

Everything that happened following their escape was a blur to Peter. Once they were loaded up in the Quinjet, Tony seemed pretty much gone - whatever adrenaline that had been fueling him was running out, and he didn't heal the way Peter did. His chest was a raw, open wound, and he was separated from Peter, taken immediately for treatment. Now that they were finally free, Peter was going to have to figure out how the fuck to proceed. This wasn't something he could just slip down an alleyway and escape from.

He opted to do what he did best and pull the 'quiet, unassuming teenager' card. He supposed he was lucky there were bigger things on the table, like the exploding secret Hydra base behind them. Nobody was bothering him for answers, and they probably assumed he was just a mutant they'd kidnapped for experimentation. As long as he kept his mouth shut, he could probably scrape by. For now, anyway. When that ran out...maybe he could fake cry? Look, he's the worst liar. The best tactic is to just avoid.

Natasha stayed by Peter's side, applying pressure to his wound. They were going to give him stitches (which he'd have to rip out himself, later, and hope nobody noticed) and pain medication (which wouldn't do shit, but would allow him to pretend to be asleep, so he wasn't complaining there).

That's how he ended up in the medbay with Tony, when Natasha left him to return to the fight, after making sure he was in good hands. Cleaned him up, pumped him with some OxyCotin (he'd burn through it in ten minutes). They thought he was asleep, and wheeled him into the same room. Peter waited until the staff filtered out, depositing him and fussing with Tony's machines, before opening his eyes and glancing at Tony. He looked a lot worse in actual light, but Peter figured he probably did, too.

It was safe there - Peter couldn't sense anything that wasn't - and finally allowed himself to relax. Okay. Good. He could get through this and go home and it would be fine. Tony's heartbeat was still weak, but less erratic than it had been when he was running on pure will, and Peter felt better knowing he'd be okay. He closed his eyes, lightly dozing listening to the whirr of Tony's machines and the thump thump of his heart. Peter just hoped nobody tried to take any blood from him, or the precarious position he was in would come tumbling down around him.

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The drugs would benefit Tony better than they would benefit Peter anyway. They were nothing more than a little tickle at the edges of his healing, and honestly? It was slowing down his healing more than anything else since his metabolism had to keep burning through the drugs.

Peter leaned against the wall next to Tony's bed, taking the time to stretch out his back and any tense joints. "Please tell me you don't own a pair of snakeskin boots."

Peter met Tony's gaze evenly. "No, they haven't. I don't think the medics knew what to ask and none of your team have come around yet."

The drugs were definitely helping. They weren't strong enough to knock him out or even dull out the pain completely, but it was at least taking away enough of an edge to help him breathe a little easier.

"God, no." Just the idea made Tony huff out a small chuckle under his breath, even if it hurt to do so. It felt good to laugh at something, though, without the fear that it would make his captors suddenly show up.

Which...now that he was out, it felt a little surreal to think about it. Even if it was hard to figure out what part was harder to believe - the fact that he was out, or that he had actually been living in Hell for months just hours ago.

Meeting Peter's gaze, he stayed quiet for a moment. "What...are you going to tell them? About what happened."

God only knows how Tony had survived. Was sheer force of will enough to sustain him? The device in his chest should have been enough to kill him, especially with prolonged exposure like that. Peter would surely be turning it over in his head for a while, but then, that's the sort of thing he did.

"Alligator?" Peter even cracked a smile, when Tony laughed. It would take a bit for the adrenaline to completely leave his system, but they were safe. It was okay to joke and relax a little.

That question had Peter shifting his weight nervously, chewing on his thumb absent-mindedly. The real question was, what was Tony going to tell them? Peter had revealed his powers and he couldn't exactly take it back. Even if some things could be explained away by Tony being in no state to remember things properly, they still inexplicably escaped. "...is pleading the fifth an option?"

Plastic tubes and pots and pans

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