{"id":4165,"date":"2020-06-08T10:04:52","date_gmt":"2020-06-08T17:04:52","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/annaabner.com\/?p=4165"},"modified":"2020-06-10T09:19:35","modified_gmt":"2020-06-10T16:19:35","slug":"watch-where-youre-going","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/annaabner.com\/?p=4165","title":{"rendered":"\u201cWatch Where You\u2019re Going\u201d"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

Fan Fiction Written Sadie West<\/em><\/h4>\n\n\n\n

Short blurb<\/em><\/strong>: <\/em>While out patrolling, Peter Parker gets distracted and is impaled. The two teens who take him home and try to patch him up do a terrible job. If Peter weren’t so weak, he’d tell them to call Tony Stark. Unfortunately, Peter keeps passing out before delivering the message.<\/em><\/em><\/h4>\n\n\n\n

Peter Parker swung between high-rises, enjoying a beautiful fall day in New York, the sun\u2019s heat on his skin. His new suit was in the shop for repairs, meaning Tony had commandeered it for upgrades. Peter\u2019s old suit didn\u2019t regulate temperature, and it was a nice sensation to actually feel the air around him.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

His spider sense went wild, and Peter dodged left, a tricky maneuver in mid-air, but the paint pellet missed. He whipped his head around and caught sight of a duo of teenagers laughing and scampering behind a dumpster, bulky paint ball guns slung on their shoulders.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Kids.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Peter turned back around just as a building rose up in front of him. Distracted, he\u2019d miscalculated his swing. He hit the stonework hard enough to rattle his teeth and make the lights blink off and on.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Damn.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He palmed the wall and took a second to breathe and assess the damage.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

No Karen to give him stats on everything from his pupil reaction to oxygen levels. He was back to basics.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

His belly hurt a lot more than he thought it should. He\u2019d hoped the lightening bolts of pain in his abdomen would fade as he rested, like all the other bumps and bruises, but that single area didn\u2019t settle down. If anything, it got worse.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Peter looked down and realized he\u2019d swung himself directly into a bare flagpole. The metal rod had punched right through his stomach and come out the other side.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Oh, crap. This was bad.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He steadied his feet as his breathing grew ragged. He shot a web above him onto a gargoyle\u2019s face and prepared to pull off the pole. A few deep breaths, and he clenched his jaw.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He should have watched where he was going. He should have waited for his new suit to come back from Tony before patrolling. He should know better than to swing around New York without paying attention.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Peter walked his feet up the wall, and blood ran free, dribbling off his suit in streams. He began to sweat.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

If he didn\u2019t get free and find help, he\u2019d be in real trouble. And without Karen, there was no way to contact Tony without retracing his steps to his backpack.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Sweat beading under his suit and his arms shaking like tree branches in a storm, Peter finally released himself from the pole\u2019s grip. For a moment, he was weightless, and then his web swung him into the building once more. Pain exploded, and he let go of the only thing holding him to the stones.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He didn\u2019t remember hitting the pavement. He was out before he reached the ground.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

*<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Peter dreamed he was floating on a choppy sea, occasionally dipping below the dark waves, and sometimes rising into the gray light.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHold on,\u201d pleaded an unfamiliar voice. \u201cPlease don\u2019t die. We\u2019re almost there.\u201d It was a young voice. Not Tony. Not Cap. Not anyone he recognized.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Peter parted dry, chapped lips to tell whoever was on the water with him to call Tony Stark. He\u2019d know what to do. But no words came out. Instead, a particularly strong wave knocked him back underwater.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Some time later, he lay on a wickedly hard surface, shivering in nothing but boxer shorts.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Where was his suit? He attempted to voice the question, but only managed a pathetic whine.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

His stomach hurt.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cKeep him awake.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHow?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI don\u2019t know! But if I don\u2019t stitch him up and stop the bleeding, he\u2019ll die.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Somebody smacked Peter hard in the face. \u201cStay awake!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He blinked, offended and simultaneously sleepy. \u201cRhuhmm,\u201d he managed. A terrified kid leaned into his eye line. He looked vaguely familiar. Or, his plaid shirt did anyway.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Peter forced his eyes open and found the second kid. Yep. They were the idiots who\u2019d shot a pain pellet at him. They\u2019d set him off course and caused all this mess.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I hate you, Peter tried to say. It sounded more like, \u201cUnutoo.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThat\u2019s it,\u201d the first kid encouraged. \u201cI\u2019m a big fan. I\u2019d never forgive myself if I killed you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Peter ignored him and rolled his head so he could get a better view of what was going on around his belly button. The second kid was shakily stabbing a needle in and out of his torn flesh. Blood coated both his hands, Peter\u2019s belly, the table beneath him\u2026<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cCall Tony Stark,\u201d Peter managed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

But maybe it wasn\u2019t as clear as he\u2019d hoped because the second kid cut the end of his thread and motioned for his buddy to get ready.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWe\u2019ve got to turn him over so I can sew up the exit wound.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Oh, no. Peter tensed for pain.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The two teens grabbed him and rolled him. Peter\u2019s strength left in a rush of blood. Call Tony Stark.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He was going to die in his underwear.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

*<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Someone was stroking Peter\u2019s hair. Strong fingers ran in and out, massaging his scalp. It felt reeeeeeally good.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cTony?\u201d he called in a voice that hardly sounded like his own.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNo. My name\u2019s Javier.\u201d The fingers stilled in his hair. \u201cThank God you\u2019re awake.\u201d He leaned over Peter to see straight into his face.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Peter stared into worried blue eyes.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cPlease don\u2019t die,\u201d Javier said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

That still felt like a very real possibility. Peter felt overheated. Spiders couldn\u2019t regulate their temperatures, so Peter was unusually susceptible to fevers. Even a low-grade fever could put him out of commission. He carried meds in his backpack for just such an occasion. His backpack, though, was hiding somewhere in Queens.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHot,\u201d Peter croaked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou\u2019re running a fever,\u201d Javier agreed. \u201cDon\u2019t worry, Donny\u2019s taking care of it right now.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The second teen burst into the room dragging bags of ice. \u201cHelp me get him in the tub.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Oh, no. Not again.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Why couldn\u2019t Peter wake up for the fun stuff?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Peter was sure they tried to be gentle, but every time they jostled him, blood gushed from between the stitches. Step, gush. Step, gush. He hit the cold, hard tub and hardly noticed. His head rolled loose upon the unforgiving surface.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Water ran, inching up from his feet to lap at his hips with cold, cold water. With all the water, and then the ice, it was tough to tell if he was still bleeding. But his arms became useless weights at his sides, and the bathwater turned pink. Not a great sign.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cCall Tony Stark,\u201d Peter said through chattering teeth.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He didn\u2019t know what was worse\u2014dying of a fever, dying of blood loss, or dying of hypothermia.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Unable to hold himself above the growing waterline, Peter sank into the tub and closed his eyes. Maybe he\u2019d drown instead.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

A crash sounded, and the bathroom door didn\u2019t just bang open. It smashed right off the hinges and landed on top of the toilet in two pieces.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cOh, shit!\u201d Javier screamed. \u201cIron Man.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWe tried to help him,\u201d Donny stammered. \u201cWe didn\u2019t want anyone to know his identity.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Tony, though, didn\u2019t even spare them a glance. He went straight to Peter and stepped out of the suit so Peter could see his eyes.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2019m getting you out of here, kid.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cFever,\u201d Peter chattered.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIt\u2019s okay. Bruce is in the med bay waiting for us.\u201d He lifted Peter into his arms, Peter\u2019s head snug against Tony\u2019s shoulder, and he knew he was safe at last.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cStabbed,\u201d Peter chattered.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI saw the CCTV footage.\u201d Over his shoulder, Tony shouted, \u201cNatasha, get these two idiots into custody and back to the Tower. And find the kid\u2019s suit.\u201d Turning his attention back on Peter, Tony said, \u201cBut I\u2019m more concerned at the moment with blood loss. You\u2019re as white as a ghost. Luckily, we\u2019ve stockpiled cloned blood in your type.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cDon\u2019t hurt them,\u201d Peter slurred, Tony\u2019s rocking steps putting him to sleep.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThey shot at you,\u201d Tony snapped. \u201cI have every right to scare the living daylights out of them.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Tony carried Peter out of the apartment and up to the roof where a SHIELD helicopter staffed with EMTs waited. His body heat warmed Peter\u2019s abused flesh, and he decided he wanted to sleep for the next twenty years or so.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cFound me,\u201d Peter murmured as he drifted off.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2019ll always find you, kid,\u201d Tony promised. \u201cNo matter what.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Thanks for reading!<\/em><\/h4>\n\n\n\n

<3 Anna & Sadie<\/em><\/h4>\n\n\n\n

Like vampires, shifters, and cheap books? Join my monthly newsletter<\/a> today.<\/em> <3 Anna<\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Fan Fiction Written Sadie West Short blurb: While out patrolling, Peter Parker gets distracted and is impaled. The two teens who take him home and try to patch him up do a terrible job. If Peter weren’t so weak, he’d tell them to call Tony Stark. Unfortunately, Peter keeps passing out before delivering the message. […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_active":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_note":"","_monsterinsights_sitenote_category":0,"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"\u201cWatch Where You\u2019re Going\u201d Fan Fiction","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":true,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[826],"tags":[869,732,311,122,313,873],"class_list":["post-4165","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-fan-fiction","tag-archive-of-our-own","tag-fan-fiction","tag-peter-parker","tag-spider-man","tag-spiderman","tag-tony-stark"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","views":"","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p2Wkl2-15b","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/annaabner.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4165","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/annaabner.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/annaabner.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/annaabner.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/annaabner.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=4165"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/annaabner.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4165\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":4292,"href":"https:\/\/annaabner.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4165\/revisions\/4292"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/annaabner.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=4165"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/annaabner.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=4165"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/annaabner.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=4165"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}