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Of all the nights for FRIDAY to be down for scheduled system maintenance, of course it has to be this one, Peter thinks bitterly, shutting the totally-unhelpful medicine cabinet with groan.
Wincing with each step, he slowly limps out of the guest bathroom and down the darkened corridors of the Avengers Tower. Even with the tight spandex of his suit compressing the injury, his left knee is still throbbing. He’s pretty sure it’s sprained—or, at most, maybe hairline fractured. It’s nothing his super healing can’t handle overnight, but still uncomfortable enough that there’s no way he’s going to be able to sleep without drugs.
“You’d think a multi-billionaire could keep painkillers in stock,” he mutters to himself, finding the supply cabinet in the hall just as lacking. The medbay probably has some, but that’s all the way down on the sixth floor and it was hard enough getting up here in the first place. Besides, even with the AI down, there’s no guarantee Peter’s presence there won’t set off some kind of alarm.
No, he’s better off just asking for help before he inadvertently wakes up the entire tower. This is the responsible thing to do, he decides as he limps along toward the master bedroom. God knows Tony and May are always harping on him about reaching out before he gets in over his head.
Silently, Peter cracks open the bedroom door and pokes his head in. Tony is lying sprawled out on top of the covers, shirtless and snoring lightly, the blue glow of the arc reactor in his chest illuminating his face. Peter hesitates a second, suddenly feeling very intrusive for being there, but another throb from his aching knee is enough to steel his resolve.
Who knows? Tony might even be glad Peter woke him up for once.
Peter creeps as quietly as his knee will allow over to the edge of bed. Then, taking a deep breath, he reaches a hand out to ever-so-gently tap the man’s shoulder while simultaneously whispering, “Uh… Mr. Stark?”
With a startled cry, Tony’s eyes snap open.
Peter jerks back his hand. “Hey–” But before his senses can so much as buzz at him, he’s hit square in the jaw with his mentor’s left hook, throwing him off balance. He crumples to the floor, fresh pain jolting through his leg to the point that his vision goes white.
“What the–?” Tony gasps, scrambling up and flipping on the lamp. His eyes go wide, both hands shooting up to cover his mouth in horror. “Peter?”
The teenager lets out a deep groan as tears spring to his eyes. “I can’t find the aspirin, Mr. Stark…”
Tony just stares at Peter for another few seconds, his chest still heaving. Finally, he lowers his hands shakily from his face, swallowing hard. “I...I’ll go get you some.”
Peter extends his arm upward to give Tony a weak thumbs-up. “That’d be swell…”
