Work Text:
The Avengers Tower Medical Bay
Featuring an extremely unlucky Peter Parker.
********************************************************************
"Everyone line up."
Tony Stark clapped his hands once, earning a collective groan.
"This isn't optional. If we're picking a fight with Magneto, I'm making absolutely sure nobody's carrying enough metal to become an instant kebab."
Bruce Banner nodded beside a large scanner.
"It's just a precaution."
"A precaution," Clint muttered, "that feels suspiciously like airport security."
Natasha smirked.
Steve folded his arms. "It's smart. Magneto can manipulate almost any metal. If you've got surgical implants, shrapnel, pacemakers—we need to know."
Everyone shuffled into a line.
"Rhodey?"
"Obviously."
Scan.
Tony sighed dramatically.
"So much titanium you're basically an expensive toaster."
"Thanks."
"Bucky."
"..."
"..."
"..."
The scanner immediately screamed.
BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP
Tony looked at the screen.
"Oh wow."
Bruce blinked.
"I don't even know where to start."
Bucky deadpanned.
"Left."
Sam walked through.
Clear.
Clint.
Clear.
Natasha.
Clear.
Thor.
The scanner exploded.
"..."
Bruce stared.
"...that's because he's carrying six weapons."
Thor looked offended.
"I have only four."
Peter quietly shuffled farther toward the back of the line.
Maybe...
Maybe no one would notice.
"Wanda."
Clear.
Scott.
Clear.
Hope.
Clear.
Peter took another tiny step backward.
Then another.
Steve looked over.
"Peter?"
"Uh?"
"You're next."
"...cool."
He smiled.
Way too widely.
Peter stepped toward the scanner.
Then stopped.
"..."
"..."
"You okay?" Bruce asked.
"Yep!"
"..."
"You can go through."
"Absolutely."
"..."
"..."
"..."
Peter scratched the back of his neck.
"So..."
Everyone waited.
"...hypothetically..."
Tony narrowed his eyes.
"I hate that word."
"If someone..."
Peter laughed nervously.
"...had..."
"..."
"...a couple things?"
Tony blinked.
"What kind of things?"
"You know."
"No."
"Stuff."
"No."
"...medical stuff."
Steve immediately became concerned.
"What medical stuff?"
Peter looked everywhere except at them.
"..."
"..."
"...maybe..."
"...some bullets?"
Silence.
Complete.
Utter.
Silence.
Tony laughed.
"No, seriously."
Peter didn't laugh.
Tony slowly stopped laughing.
"...Peter."
"...yeah?"
"...what."
Bruce looked genuinely alarmed.
"Bullets?"
Peter winced.
"Rounds."
Steve's eyes widened.
"Rounds?"
Peter held up a finger.
"Not...a lot?"
Tony's voice climbed three octaves.
"NOT A LOT?!"
Bruce rushed over.
"When were you shot?"
"..."
Peter counted silently on his fingers.
"...which time?"
Everyone froze.
"WHICH."
"TIME."
Tony sounded one second away from rebooting.
Peter shrank.
"Okay, see, when you say it like that—"
"HOW ELSE IS THERE TO SAY IT?!"
Steve looked horrified.
"Peter."
"Yes?"
"How many times have you been shot?"
Peter thought about it.
"..."
"..."
"...define shot."
"DEFINE—"
Tony physically pinched the bridge of his nose.
"No."
"No definitions."
"Number."
Peter quietly mumbled something.
"What?"
"...three."
"What?"
"...five?"
"Peter."
"..."
"...seven?"
Clint slowly lowered himself into a chair.
"I suddenly don't feel qualified to supervise teenagers."
Bruce was already pulling up scans.
"Peter, sit."
"I'm actually fine."
"Sit."
"I'm really—"
"Peter."
"...okay."
The scanner hummed.
Everyone crowded around the monitor.
Bruce frowned.
"..."
"..."
"..."
Tony leaned in.
"...what am I looking at?"
Bruce zoomed.
"There."
Tiny bright dots.
One.
Two.
Three.
Four.
Five.
"...is that..."
Bruce sighed.
"Retained bullet fragments."
Tony stared.
"...plural?"
Bruce zoomed again.
"And..."
Click.
"There."
Steve blinked.
"Shrapnel?"
Bruce nodded.
"Several pieces."
Tony slowly turned.
"Peter."
"...yeah?"
"Would now be a bad time to ask WHY YOU NEVER MENTIONED THIS?"
Peter looked genuinely confused.
"It stopped hurting?"
"It STOPPED—"
Tony threw both hands into the air.
"That's not how medicine works!"
Bruce kept scrolling.
"Oh."
Everyone looked.
"Oh?"
Bruce pointed.
"He also has..."
"..."
"...a titanium plate."
Tony whipped around.
"YOU HAVE A TITANIUM PLATE?!"
Peter shrugged.
"It seemed important at the time."
Steve looked like he might faint.
"When."
Steve asked carefully.
"When did you need a titanium plate?"
Peter thought.
"The warehouse?"
Tony blinked.
"Which warehouse?"
"..."
"..."
"...the exploding one?"
"There was MORE THAN ONE?!"
Peter realized he'd made a mistake.
A very big mistake.
"Okay."
He held up both hands.
"In my defence—"
"There is no defence!"
Tony interrupted.
"I specifically told you to call me when you're injured!"
"I didn't want everyone freaking out."
Every Avenger simultaneously started talking.
"How long ago was this?"
"Why didn't May tell us?"
"Who operated on you?"
"Did you go to a hospital?"
"You passed medical?"
"You WALKED THIS OFF?"
Peter looked between all of them.
"..."
"..."
"...this is kind of why."
Silence.
Tony opened his mouth.
Closed it.
Opened it again.
"..."
"...fair."
Bruce rubbed his temples.
"Peter."
"Yes?"
"I'm ordering a complete medical work-up."
"Okay."
"And afterwards you're taking two weeks off."
Peter blinked.
"..."
"...I don't think that's how being Spider-Man works."
Tony smiled.
"Oh, that's adorable."
"What?"
"You think this is a negotiation."
Peter looked desperately at Steve.
Steve gave him the sympathetic smile of someone who absolutely wasn't going to help.
"Sorry, son."
Peter turned to Natasha.
She shook her head.
"No."
Clint?
"I've already adopted enough bad habits."
Thor?
"I shall accompany you to your healing!"
"...that somehow sounds worse."
Tony clapped Peter on the shoulder.
"Congratulations."
"For what?"
"You've achieved something I thought impossible."
"...?"
"You made every Avenger panic at the same time."
Peter sighed.
"I really should've kept my mouth shut."
Bruce looked up from the scans.
"Peter."
"Yeah?"
"...there's another fragment near your shoulder."
Peter frowned.
"Oh."
"Did you forget that one?"
"..."
"..."
"...maybe?"
The room erupted all over again.
"PETER!"