Summary: I tried to make it like the scene in The Amazing Spiderman where Gwen was helping Peter with his injuries. I tried to make Peter as awkward as possible lmao. This is my first fic so go easy on me haha.
Word Count: 2118
Triggers: Blood, injuries, a wee bit of swearing (b-word), awkward teenagers, lots of hurt Peter, may or may not have cried a little writing
You sat still, slowly chipping away at your chemistry lab report when you heard a knock at your window. Your heart jumped in your chest for a second but you chuckled when you realized it was only Peter, banging his head against your window. He looked exhausted, with a few scattered bruises on his cheeks and head limply leaning on the window itself. A wee bit melodramatic, you thought, but Peter had every right to be tired. After all, he WAS the, ‘friendly, neighborhood spider man.’ Ever since you had found out, you had been teasing him little by little with the name everyone called him. But you were immensely proud of him and each little job that he managed to tackle. You looked into his brown eyes and he gave you a small smile. You beckoned your head forward in a ‘come in’ sort of gesture, to which Peter opened the window and climbed inside your bedroom.
“You know, you could always consider coming in through the front door,” you chuckled quietly, eyes returning to your paper. You heard Peter give a weak laugh behind you.
You turned around to face him in your swivel chair. “I also wanted to mention that my father thinks you need psychiatric attention because of all-” You stopped dead in your tracks when you saw Peter almost fall into your bed before desperately gripping the wall to hold himself upright.
He slowly was starting to lean forward and you rushed over to steady him before he fell.
“Peter? Peter, what happened. What happened Peter?” you interrogated, slowly guiding him back down to your bed. “You should’ve seen the size of the other guy,” he mumbled shakily while allowing you to gently lay him down, “that is, the other guy being a man in a giant metal bird suit.” He panted in between words, seeming to be almost struggling for air. His eyes were half closed.
“Honey?” you heard your father call from outside, “Would you like some warm milk before I leave? I can bring it to you real quick!” Peter grimaced as he ducked behind the edge of your bed, just in case your father decided to open the door. However, you beat him to it. “Don’t move,” you whispered shrilly to Peter.
You flung the door open, causing your father to flinch in surprise. “No, Dad, I do not want any warm milk right now, thank you very much.”
Your dad looked at you strangely. “You… said earlier today that you would appreciate it if I could make you warm milk while you worked on your lab report.”
“W-well,” you stuttered, trying to plaster a fake ticked-off look on your face, “I’m (your age) years old, I don’t drink warm milk anymore!” You slammed the door in your dad’s face before checking on Peter, who’s playful expression stared up at you. “Warm milk?” he said quietly with a smile. You flipped him off quickly before reopening the door to apologize to your dad. I mean, you felt like you had been… a bit harsh.
“I-I’m sorry Dad, I just… can’t have warm milk right now because I’m right in the middle of this paragraph and I’m almost done and I’m on a roll here and I don’t want to be interrupted because it’s stressful.” Your dad looked as awkward as you felt. “Oh, uh, alright, that’s okay, maybe when I get back then?” You nodded with aggressive enthusiasm as your dad smiled weakly and turned on his heel to head out the door. The second you heard it shut your attention immediately turned back to Peter. Instead of half shut, his eyes were now completely closed and he was gripping his stomach with one hand while clutching on the end of the bed with another. You walked over tentatively. “P-Peter? Are you gonna be sick? Do you need me to walk you to the bathroom?” Peter shook his head. “It j-just hurts. I’ll be alright, I just…” he let out a sharp exhale. “I just wanted to come here to recover before going back to Aunt May because I know she’d worry and-” He was panting again, as if only talking was completely wearing him out.
“Peter, take off the suit, okay? I’ll clean you up really quickly if I need to.” Too physically drained to care, Peter let you help him unstick the suit from his chest. There were various small tears, which was remarkable considering the material the suit was made of. You held a whimper back in your throat when you saw three huge gashes on Peter’s stomach and chest, one of which was still bleeding profusely and dripping blood all down the rest of Peter’s torso. “Jesus Christ Peter… did the guy, like, bust an artery or something?” You grabbed some paper towels from your bedside table in a meek attempt to stop the bleeding, but they were quickly soaked through. His blood stained your hands in a matter of seconds, and you felt selfish because of how gross you felt. Heart beating quickly, you assessed the situation.
“Okay, um, Peter, just stay here, I’m actually going to get a towel for you and you’re going to hold that to the cut on on your stomach to stop the bleeding. And I’m gonna get rubbing alcohol and disinfectant and all that other stuff, alright? Just… don’t move.” He just nodded. It wasn’t like he could move at all, even if he wanted to. You left and began to hurriedly search your bathroom for all the necessary supplies. Necessary supplies- the words sounded funny in your head. Mature. But then again, Peter had never been injured this bad before. You quickly thanked whatever god there was for all your girl scout first aid training and red cross babysitting classes.
You returned to where Peter was to find him still grimacing, eyes closed. “Oh, God, okay, Peter, I need you to, um, just hold this to your chest for a bit to stop the bleeding, and I-I’m going to clean the other ones, alright?” He just nodded and took the towel from you, whimpering slightly as he pressed it to his largest and most bloody wound. Ten minutes, you remembered. If you cut a major… whatever… take ten minutes to stop the bleeding.
“Okay, listen, I’m just going to clean these really quick… I’ll bandage them best I can, alright? My-” you laughed anxiously, “my hands are really shaky.” You got to work quickly, taking your soapy washcloth and scrubbing at the dirtiest slash that crossed Peter’s chest. He yelped and then gritted his teeth. You stopped quickly. “It-it’s gonna hurt, okay? But just for a little bit. I don’t want it to get infected.”
Surprisingly, Peter laughed. “You’re really smart you know, Y/N. W-where did you learn all of this?” You smiled. “Doesn’t matter. Hold still.” Peter groaned as you got to work viciously scrubbing at the second cut.
“These aren’t super deep, alright? I’m gonna put some anti-bac on them and you should be good and I’ll wrap them for you.”
Peter’s eyes shot open. “Will it hurt?”
You were tempted to laugh but recovered quickly. “No, this isn’t going to hurt. You’ll be fine.” Peter let out a relieved sigh and resumed the closed-eye, head-tilted-back position. You quickly rubbed the anti-bac over the two smaller gashes and began to carefully bandage them, sealing the ends with medical tape. Despite everything, you chuckled. “That’s gonna hurt like a bitch when you pull it off, Peter.” Peter laughed tiredly. “Nooo,” he replied. You smiled and shrugged in a sorry-not-sorry kind of way.
The big cut that wouldn’t stop bleeding was going to be your worst nightmare. “Okay, let’s tackle the big boy, yeah?”
Peter glanced up at you. “The biggest boy of them all.” Together, you pulled the blood-soaked towel away from the wound, causing Peter to scrunch his eyes shut and let out a loud moan. It made a sticky sound when you pulled it away, and you briefly felt bile rise in your throat. It was really wet, and for a second you didn’t know what to do with it; you stared at it, wide-eyed while Peter panted in front of you. “Okay, good job,” you said nervously, presuming to throw the ruined towel in your garbage can, not really knowing what to do with it. You could make up some excuse later. You started to scrub all the dirt and dried blood in and around the cut, trying your best to ignore Peter’s feeble cries. You glanced up at him, noting his sweaty forehead and miserable expression. Your heart began to pound faster.
“O-okay, Peter, this is going to be the worst part, yeah? I have to put alcohol in it so it doesn’t get infected. This one’s… really bad. It’s going to hurt a lot, alright?” Surprisingly, Peter let out a small sob. It was then that you realized that Peter was a kid, just like you. You needed to be strong for him.
You poured some of the alcohol onto a cotton ball until it was practically dripping. Taking a deep breath and steadying your hands, you started scrubbing away at the gash. Peter let out a huge yell and tensed his entire chest. You felt sympathy well up in your throat. “Almost done, almost done,” you whispered, quickly spreading some anti-bac on the cut and finishing bandaging it. You put a hand on Peter’s shoulder and felt it rise aggressively up and down as he panted, making small noises of protest. “We’re done, you’re done, you’re so brave Peter, alright? We’re done, it’s okay. I’m going to get you some sweats that I stole from my dad and one of his t-shirts; I’ll be right back and we can… do something with your suit, I don’t know yet.” Peter just nodded, sweat dripping down his face. Out of maternal instinct, you kissed his forehead, before becoming completely aware of what you just did. Luckily, Peter didn’t seem to notice. You quickly got the clothes you needed, brought them to Peter and gave him a second to change. Once you heard Peter slink down to the floor and land with a loud ‘thump,’ you reentered.
He glanced up at you tentatively and gave a small wave, neither of you knowing quite what to say. “Do you want warm milk?” you asked out of the blue and shortly after mentally facepalmed. “I-I mean, warm milk always makes me feel better, and I can get some for you if you want because I was going to get some for myself anyway-”
He cut you off with a small smile and looked at the ground. “Yeah, I-that’d be great, thank you.” He seemed… embarrassed? Feeling heat rise to your cheeks, you nodded and hurried down the stairs to heat some up. Carefully walking back up the stairs with two mugs, you sternly told yourself not to be awkward. Peter was your friend. There was no reason for it.
You sat down next to him and watched him breathe in the steam, causing you to giggle before staring into your own mug. Peter took a large gulp before grimacing once again. “It’s hot, stupid,” you said, not even trying to hide your smile.
Peter rolled his eyes before blowing on it and taking a smaller sip. “This is really good,” he said. “What do you mean it’s really good; I literally just put milk in the microwave and put it on low heat for like a minute.” You stared up at your ceiling hugging your knees tight to your body.
“Why’d you kiss me?” he said, his question startling you. You blushed scarlet. “I- Look, I don’t know, it just seemed like the right thing to do.” You sighed exasperatedly and looked down at your mug again before sipping. Peter looked away quickly. “I mean, it was… kind of nice actually. I’m not trying to be weird like that, I just mean, it was cute. You’re cute. Well, I mean, I guess, in a kiss-type way? God, uh…” You chuckled. “Do you want to kiss me this time, Peter?” This time he was the one blushing. “Well, you kind of deserve it, for, uh, taking care of me and all.” He slowly leaned in, using one hand to cup your face and another to hold himself steady before gently pressing his lips against yours. You closed your eyes and leaned into the kiss before pulling away, the both of you staring at each other. Peter just looked at you. “Uh, that was really nice, should I-”
You just rolled your eyes. “Stupid.”
Thanks for reading!!