Work Text:
Breathing.
Peter liked breathing.
In fact, he hadn't realised just how much he liked breathing until he couldn't anymore. A large slab of concrete pinned Peter in place by his chest, leaving him eye level with a beautiful piece of rebar just a foot from his face.
If Peter had been out as Spider-Man, if he'd rushed into the collapsing building to web people to safety, then maybe he'd be okay dying here.
But he wasn't Spider-Man right now. In fact, Peter Parker was just one of the hundreds of people who happened to be visiting or working at the Daily Bugle today.
Peter couldn't hear much of anything at first through all the dust settling and the ringing in his ears, so he missed the presence of a nearby civilian until she started screaming for help.
"Please! Anyone!' she sobbed, "I - I- I'm stuck!'
"Hello?" Peter called in response.
"Oh thank god! Who is that?"
"Um. I'm Peter, I'm stuck too."
"Oh," she sighed. "I thought-"
"I know" Peter cut her off, "I'm sorry." He shuffled slightly, trying to catch a glance at his wrist where his shiny, lifesaving, stark watch was very obviously as pulverized as his arm.
Oh god. His arm is-! Oh god...
"I'm Amanda." The woman whispered.
Peter swallowed down the bile gathering in the back of his throat to reply, rolling his eyes up to the ceiling to avoid looking at his arm, "I'd say it's nice to meet you but, considering the circumstances."
Amanda huffed out a laugh. Peter could hear her shuffling, how fast her heart was beating. He could smell her shampoo, her perfume, her blood.
"Amanda, I need you to do something."
"Not sure I can do much of anything at the moment."
Peter smiled, she was a strong women, trying to keep calm, "I need you to stay as still as possible."
"What?"
"If you keep pushing against the weight it could cause more to collapse, it's too unstable."
"How do you know?"
Peter hesitated, "Um, I'm an engineer?"
"..."
"Intern. I'm an intern... To an engineer."
"Right. Well it's not like moving has helped anyway." She huffed, letting out a wet sounding cough.
Then another.
Then a third.
Then the building was shaking and Peter could feel how the healing bone fragments in his arm rebroke, ground down by the shuddering rocks above him.
"Peter?!" She called in response to what must have been a rather inhuman sounding wail he let out.
"I'm okay, I'm okay," he panted. It felt like his arm was on fire, liquid heat flooding his veins and crawling up his shoulder. He could feel his heartbeat in his swollen fingertips, throbbing against the concrete.
"I'm-"
***
"Pathetic" Tony muttered to himself, tossing his tools aside. Another idea trashed.
It was becoming a pattern lately; being unable to focus on a project for SI when all he wanted to do was tinker on the cool stuff with Pete. It's not that he can't do his work, it's just that... It's boring, without the kid.
Tony can admit it, he's an adult... Sort of. Having Peter around makes the ideas flow freely, he enjoyed his company, too. And who wouldn't want a mini-Tony handy at a moments notice?
"Where's the spider- child , FRIDAY?" Tony called, spinning in his chair until he spotted a half empty pack of blueberries.
"Unable to trace location, boss." She replied.
Tony halted mid-blueberry. "What?"
"The suit hasn't activated and his watch is unresponsive."
That was unusual.
More than unusual, actually. That was impossible. Tony made that watch himself, by hand. It could withstand anything short of a small explosion. But if Peter didn't have his suit on, that meant he was wearing the watch. Peter, without any protection, in some sort of explosion, instantly had Tony's weakened heart jumping rope in his throat.
Okay Tony, breathe. If anything that big had happened it'd be on the news or something.
"Fri, pull up the news."
"Which station, boss?"
"Anything from New York. Queens first!" He snapped. Swiping past celebrity gossip and useless fearmongering headlines faster than they could pop up.
No. No. No. Not that. Nope. Ew. No.... That!
Building collapse in Queens
Some trash newspaper building - the Daily Bugle - had collapsed not ten minutes ago. Looking at the pictures it had more than collapsed, it had basically crumbled to dust. All that remained of the building was a messy dome of rubble and pipework.
There was no way Peter was there. He had no reason to go to that shit hole where J.J.Jameson spouts hate for Spider-Man like it's going out of fashion. Ergo, Peter, who was Spider-Man, wouldn't be there. Peter couldn't be there because there's almost no way anyone who wasn't evacuated has survived.
Someone must have stolen his watch. Maybe he dropped it. Maybe his freaky super strength smashed it to pieces and the kid was too embarrassed to say anything and he was holed up in his cramped, messy teenage bedroom wondering how he was going to break the news to Tony that he'd broken it. Heck, maybe he was trying to fix it himself - the nerd.
"Incoming call: May Parker" Friday's voice jolted him from his panic.
"Accept."
"TONY!" A panicked voice rung through the surround sound speakers.
"May. May! Calm down, what's going on?"
"Tony it's Peter! He was there, Tony he went to the Bugle and he's not answering his phone and -"
"Woah, woah, what?! No. May why would he be there?" Tony shook his head, hands trembling as he pushed himself up onto shaky legs.
"He's been selling photos of Spider-Man to help with the rent, and he left an hour ago and I saw on the news - !"
Tony tapped the housing unit on his chest, already throwing himself out of the window before the nanites had fully enveloped him.
**
Peter startled awake at the sound of a yelp, his head pounding and ragged breaths rapid. He tried to take a deep breath to no avail; the rubble pressing hard onto his chest. He could probably force it up slightly, just enough to grab a full gasp of air but if he ended up shifting the pile and hurt Amanda he'd never be able to forgive himself.
Wait - Amanda!
Another loud groan permeated the air, Peter could detect Amanda's slowing heartbeat, her heaving sobs shaking the settling dust nearby.
"Amanda?" Peter coughed out, "Are you okay? Can you hear me?"
"Please! Please!" She heaved. If Peter angled his head up just so he could about make out her feet, and the pooling blood there.
"What, what's going on? Amanda? ... Amanda!" Peter called, coughing from his dry throat. He wet his lips, tasting dirt and the iron tint of blood and tried again, "Amanda! I know it hurts but you need to, to, conserve your energy, and.." it was no use, she wouldn't stop sobbing, coughing, heaving. Peter didn't need his spidey-senses to know she was seriously injured, probably dying.
Minutes passed by. Her wails began to quiet.
Peter laid there, arm numb, barely breathing, listening as a dying woman pleaded with God until she couldn't form words any longer. Peter began to pray then too. God, he felt so weak. God, there was no way he could get to her. God, she was dying. God, it was all his fault.
God, please!
... Nothing.
Who was Peter kidding? What did he expect, a beam of light to shine down and drag him and Amanda to safety? No... nobody was coming. Not even Tony, who had no clue where Peter was. Even if he did Peter could tell they'd both be long dead before Tony could reach them.
There was nobody.... nobody except Peter.
"Hey Amanda?" No reply.
"I wanna tell you something crazy." Peter sobbed, tears and blood cleaning his face of dirt.
"Nobody knows this, so don't tell anyone." Silence, not even a heartbeat.
"But I'm actually Spider-Man..." He smiled, flashing his red teeth to the empty space.
"And I'm gonna save you."
"I am." Peter breathed a deep breath, letting his chest push out the rubble.
"Because I'm a hero." Another deep breath and the debris shuddered.
"And that's what heroes do." Peter steeled himself, gritting his teeth and pushing his hips up.
A big rumbling sounded, like the god of thunder himself was announcing his arrival. Screaming in pain, Peter pushed hard, swiveling his hips to give himself enough room under the large concrete slab to began to drag himself out. He had to use both arms to army crawl forward, and pain like he'd never felt before choked him.
God, he wanted to die.
But Amanda wasn't going to. Not while he was here.
Not while Spider-Man was here.
"AGHHH!" One last push and his legs were free, the slab dropping awkwardly behind them.
Peter breathed heavily, short puffs blowing clouds of dust back into the air.
"Okay Spider-Man. Okay Spider-Man, okay. Okay" He mumbled to himself, using his working limbs to drag himself through the debris. The air was opaque with lingering dust and thin with a lack of oxygen telling Peter they were well and truly buried deep under the rubble. Shadows danced across his vision, spinning and waving. He might have closed his eyes at one point - he doesn't remember. It was too dark to see Amanda, and there was no discernable heartbeat either so he followed his nose. Tracing the scent of her blood, crawling through the dirt like a hound on the hunt he managed to stumble into her half covered body.
Peter wasn't talking to God at that point, so he thanked the universe instead when he saw Amanda's head and chest protruding from the concrete coffin enclosing her slowly cooling extremities. With one wrist crushed he settled on his knees and attempted a steady pattern of compressions.
"Ah Ah Ah Ah Stayin' alive, stayin' alive" He mumbled out over and over again. The absurdness of singing the BeeGees with blood-slick limbs and a half-dead woman's ribs cracking under his hand caused watery laughter to bubble out of his mouth.
"C'mon Amanda! C'mon!" He sat back, catching his breath.
Nothing.
30 more compressions.
Nothing.
Again.
Nothing.
"FUCK!" Peter cursed, metallic blood gurgling slightly in his throat. He bent down and awkwardly pressed two rescue breaths into her lungs. "Again." He called, gearing up to sing more BeeGees with his compressions.
Badump
He'd barely gotten to the second 'Staying alive' when he heard the faint sound of a heartbeat. He listened in silence.
Badump
"Yesyesyes!" Peter pushed two red stained fingers into her neck and waited until he felt the beautiful pressure of a pulse. And beautiful it was. Peter is pretty sure he'd never felt anything better, the relief so strong it rushed up to his head at a dizzying speed and he listed to the side.
Everything turned black.
***
Tony had stopped freaking out. The suit went on. He was Iron Man. This was any other building collapse and being the generous, philanthropic superhero that he was, he decided to lend a hand. In fact, this was so routine it was boring. So Tony set himself a fun little challenge: How fast can he rescue any trapped civilians? Particularly, any with fluffy brown hair and a sunny yellow backpack his aunt got him, so bright he might not loose it in the depths of the city.
As he pulled up on scene, suit hovering in mid-air, FRIDAY was already scanning the building for heat signatures.
"Boss, the rubble is too thick to pick anything up, if there is anything." FRIDAY informed him.
"How about outside? Look for Peter, is he here?", Tony huffed, out of breath as if he'd run here under his own steam.
"Scanning for persons matching the appearance of Peter B. Parker." FRIDAY's monotone, matter of fact Irish drawl was starting to irritate Tony, and when her search came up empty he sapped at her to scan the rubble again. "Sir, I'm picking up heat signatures from several areas, but it is impossible to differentiate between people and objects under this amount of debris."
"Fine! Then help me move it, I'll find those heat signatures one by one if i have too!"
Without waiting for a response Tony flew down to ground zero, grabbed a heavy chunk of rock and pushed it aside. FRIDAY estimated the fastest and safest possible ways through the structure to the closest heat signature, directing her creator on what to move and what to leave in place. Together they tore through the collapse in record time pulling out old radiators, a kettle and unfortunately the body of a middle aged man, blood streaked in his silver hair.
There was no way to tell how fast time passed. Everything condensed down to the next piece of rubble, the next heat signature, the next body. The media were probably going wild, "Iron man spends hours clearing rubble and saving civilians at the sight of an explosion in Queens". People will think its a publicity stunt, that The Tony Stark wouldn't get his hands dirty for a simple building collapse. People will say it was just a suit, and that Tony himself was nice and cozy up in his tower enjoying lunch.
None of those people know that his whole world is somewhere under all this concrete. Everything that makes life bearable, that makes being a superhero worth it, that makes him pour his thousand dollar scotch down the drain for nothing but the look in his eyes when he sees Tony every Friday for Lab Day.
Tony's mind wondered as he watched his body move frantically, machine like iron arms lifting and pushing rhythmically, robotically. He felt like a spectator to his actions for a moment, wondering when, exactly, he had sown his own heart onto Peter and let it go running around New York. Peter wasn't his. Not biologically. And yet...
"Two more signatures, Boss, lift this slab at a 45 degree angle and that should give you access to the adjoining chamber." FRIDAY interrupted, her level voice and clear instructions shaking Tony awake and back into his body. One of those signatures was Peter. Even though Tony secretly prayed it wasn't, that the kid had gotten hungry and taken a detour to Delmar's and had never stepped foot into the Bugle today, he knew the truth. He knew it in a way he couldn't explain, in a way that was entirely illogical. In the way a parent knew... the way a Father knew. And when Tony dropped down into one of the half-collapsed offices and shoved his way through the rubble in his way, he was proven horribly, graphically correct.
Peter had been in the building. The building had collapsed on top of him. Tony scrambled forwards, hands hovering over the boy, unsure of where to touch, afraid to cause more damage.
"FRIDAY, scan." He chocked out, some kind of liquid meandering down his face - sweat or tears he couldn't tell.
"Multiple lacerations detected - immediate medical attention required. Crush injury to the left arm - immediate medical attention required. Internal hemorrhaging - immediate medical attention required. Severe concuss -"
"Enough." He'd gotten the picture. Now he needed to move. "Lets get you out of here Underoos. FRI, have Cho and a medical team on standby and contact Bruce, I've got no idea how or if his healing is going to fix this arm."
Tony gently began to gather Peter into his arms when something caught his attention in his peripheral.
"Oh shit." He cursed, leaning over to get a better look.
The woman was half buried under a giant pillar as if she had simply pulled it up to use as a blanket. She was unconscious - not dead but close to it- and like Peter, covered in dust, dirt and blood. Another quick scan from FRIDAY told the man she was barely alive, ribs broken and chest bruised. Tony tried not to think about her as he flew Peter to safety.
Peter was what mattered. Tony wasn't responsible for every life in Queens, he was a superhero - not a god and sometimes there were casualties he couldn't prevent. Peter was what mattered. Tony had gone to the Bugle to find him and now he had him. Mission over. Done. That woman was close to death anyway, he doubts she'd had survived the trip to the hospital even if he'd carried her out to the paramedics.
"Almost there, Kid."
Tony pushed his suit further than he had before, or maybe that just how it felt. He was desperate to get back to the tower, he needed to have gotten there ten minuets ago, an hour ago, fuck he needed to have made a better watch, had it alert him the moment things had gone wrong. He should have paid Peter for his 'internship', gotten the kid to accept it, gotten May to accept it. Should have bought their apartment building and refused any rent from them.
Should have. Could have. Would have.
He will. He'll fix it all as soon as Pete is back on his feet. He just needed to get to the tower.
As if called forth by the man's desperation alone, the sleek glass windows of Stark Tower creep into view. He tries to press on the gas but the suit was already at maximum output and by the time he sets foot on the landing pad, Peter looks paler than ever, thin, small, broken and hardly human. He looked like body from a warzone - so far from the angelic, full of life teen that bounces around Tony Stark's personal workshop like it was Toy Town.
A troop of medics run out to meet him with Helen Cho leading the charge. She scoops the boy from his arms and onto a stretcher, its white fabric cover saturated in red between one blink and the next. His weight gone from Tony's eyes make his knees weak. The suit the only thing keeping his standing as he watched them wheel Pete away.
Helen spared him a glance, "You coming Tony?", he footsteps slowing but never stopping as she followed her patient into the building.
Tony thought of chasing after her, of sitting at his Kid's bedside and holding his hand and making sure that massive heart of his kept beating, but he couldn't move. His legs felt like lead. "You go on ahead," he called, thinking of what FRIDAY had said - broken ribs and a bruised chest. "I've got something I need to do."
His legs started working again, the shake in them hidden in a layer of iron as he walked straight over the edge of the building.
**
When Peter woke up, he was sure he was dead. Everything was white and he was floating. He couldn't move, so obviously his body was gone and he was just a weightless pool of consciousness in an alternate plain of existence.
"'mm a blob. Floa'in in the seaaaa of some'ere else!" he expressed. Surprised he could talk with no mouth.
"Oh!" emerged a voice, "He's awake again!"
"Pete," another voice called him, "Buddy can you here me?"
"'ony?"
"Yeah bub its me." Tony! It was Tony! But if Tony was here... does that mean Tony's dead too?
"Dony 're yo' dead?" He mumbled, and if he had a face he'd be crying right now.
"Am I dead? Kid what are you talking about, I'm right here?"
Peter twisted his neck towards Tony's voice and - oh hey, he has a neck? That wasn't there before! - and there Tony was! A lovely dark man-shaped blob haloed in white.
"You 'ave uh body?" Pete mumbled. Did he have a mouth now too?
"What?"
"Do I 'av uh body?" Peter attempted to look down at himself but soft hands cupped his cheeks - oh cheeks, nice! - and his gaze was pulled back up to Tony.
"Hey look who's with me, do you recognize her?" The older man prompted, waiting patiently as Peter blinked away the blurriness in his sight. Slowly a figure of a woman came into view. She looked unwell, all wrapped up in bandages. Maybe she was a mummy?
"Nobe! Wh're you?" He slurred beginning to feel tired again.
"That's Amanda, Pete. You saved her."
Peter's eyes must not have grown back properly because there seemed to be some water-like stuff coming out of Tony's eyes. Hey, maybe Tony's eyes hadn't grown back properly either? His mind drifted off but his mouth replied on instinct, "tss cos im a sp'der."
"Eh close enough."
Peter couldn't have eyes anymore, they hurt, so he shut them. The blinding white was replaced by a soothing darkness ideal for napping in. He supposed it didn't matter if he had a body or not, Tony was here so it was all okay.
And when Peter fell asleep, he had Tony's soft laughter in his ears.
... Hey wait he has ears???