#wedding whump | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

whumpcereal · 1 year

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behavior modification, jack & joe's wedding

masterlist here. I know it's been a while, so I hope folks are still out there.

content warnings for: vague references to past csa and general trauma, a recovering whumpee with some self-loathing, and TOOTH-ROTTING FLUFF

future snippet, forget me not

“You look so handsome, Bear.”

Marilyn meets her son’s eyes in the mirror, and he smiles back at her. For once, she knows he can’t argue with her. The man who looks back at her is happy and sure, his dark hair carefully parted and slicked into place, his navy suit well-cut and pressed. He looks like his father, but that’s neither here nor there. It’s Joe’s smile that makes the difference. It’s crept out more often since Jack came home to them, and today, there’s nothing that can wipe it away.

Joe’s green eyes crinkle at their corners. “Thanks, Mama.”

“I’m just telling it like it is. Turn this way. I want to make sure that bowtie is straight before I go help Jack.”

Marilyn doesn’t miss the soft blush that creeps into Joe’s cheeks at the mention of his fiancé.

“Where is he?”

The question doesn’t have the desperate tone it used to. For once, Joe is just a normal young man, excited at the prospect of the day ahead.

Marilyn smiles. “Down the hall, but don’t you even think about peeking. You know the rules.”

“It’s just superstition,” Joe protests.

They’ve already weathered enough bad luck to last a lifetime, her two boys. Marilyn can tell that Joe’s fairly certain that seeing his groom on the wedding day is the least of their worries. She wouldn’t be surprised if Joe threw caution to the wind and busted up a room full of mirrors at this point. They’ve paid their dues. They must have.

Marilyn’s hands fidget gently with Joe’s bowtie. She keeps her gaze fixed on his collar button; Joe knows well enough that she’s trying to hide the tears that have crept into her eyes.

“Superstition or not,” she says, “you are not depriving me of adorable ‘first look’ pictures.”

They’ve had another sort of first look, Marilyn knows. She wasn’t there–she hadn’t wanted to overwhelm poor Jack–but, eventually, Joe told her about opening the goddamned box and finding Jack inside, emaciated and covered in his own sick. She wasn’t there, but the knowledge that it happened at all tears at the seams of her heart. They didn’t deserve it. But they are stronger for it now.

“Mama?” Joe sets a soft hand on her shoulder.

“I’m just so happy for you, Bear. Both of you.”

“Is it bad if I say I’m happy too?” Joe asks, ducking his chin sheepishly.

Marilyn blinks, trying to keep her damn tears from ruining her make-up. Joe’s been this way his entire life; he’s never been sure if he deserves the good things that come his way, even when he was a little boy. Marilyn can remember the way he used to smother his own laughter after his father left, afraid that his joy was misplaced. I’m sorry, Mama, he’d say, as if he’d done something naughty. It broke her heart. It still does.

It was worse while Jack was gone, and somehow even worse in the first months after he came home. Joe blamed himself for everything that had happened, and no matter what she said, Marilyn couldn’t convince him otherwise. Even when Jack began to come back to himself, Joe attributed it to Jack’s own strength rather than the love and support he provided for all those first months. Joe’s been afraid to let himself believe that this is real. She’s sure he thinks it might all be taken away again.

“No, honey, it isn’t bad. You deserve to be happy. Both of you.”

Predictably, Joe’s jaw tightens, just a little–something only a mother’s eyes might catch.

“I will always make him happy.”

“I know,” Marilyn murmurs, patting Joe’s cheek. “You’ll make each other happy, Bear.”

“I’ll protect him.”

Marilyn shakes her head. “No, baby, you’ll love him, and he’ll love you. Love is protection in its own way; you just have to let each other in.”

She knows it’s absurd, her spouting marital advice when her own marriage folded like a cheap card table years ago. She never gave a second thought to looking for another partner after Joe’s father left; she had her Joey Bear, and the love that remained belonged to him. She’s always protected him. She will, until she can’t–and when she can’t, she knows that Jack will be there. Just like Joe will be there for him.

“He–” Joe hesitates. He turns and shyly meets Marilyn’s eyes in the mirror again. His lips quirk into a smile. “He let me in again.”

“I know,” Marilyn says softly. “He loves you.”

“I love him so much.”

Marilyn’s chest catches at the soft ache in Joe’s voice. She remembers what it was like to love someone so fiercely that it actually hurt. Of course she remembers. Sometimes, the beginning hurts just as much as the end. But what Joe and Jack have–well, that’s something special and fine. Delicate. Like spun gold.

Marilyn smiles. “I know that too.”

She reaches for the plastic florist’s clamshell on the dresser. Inside is a tiny spray of purple-blue forget-me-nots nestled against a pop of delicate greenery. Marilyn picks it up with careful fingers and fastens it to Joe’s lapel.

“Not the most subtle choice,” Marilyn teases, “but a fine one.”

“The right one.” Joe leans down to kiss her cheek. “Thank you for everything, Mama.”

“Always, Bear.”

Their foreheads touch, just for a moment, and then Marilyn squeezes Joe’s arms and pulls away. She scoops up the other florist’s box.

“I’d better go check on your husband-to-be. Remember, be out in the courtyard at two.”

Joe salutes her as she goes, and his smile widens. He’ll be alright. This day is the culmination of so many of his hopes and dreams. As she eases down the hall, antique floorboards creaking beneath her sensible heels, Marilyn remembers the way Joe called her after his first date with Jack. Mama, there’s something about this one–I just know he’s going to change everything for me. And he did, Marilyn thinks. Perhaps not in the way either of them would have guessed or wanted, but Jack certainly did change everything.

And it’s Jack that Marilyn is worried about now.

She knocks gently on the old-fashioned coffered door of Jack’s room. He and Joe have been staying separately since they arrived at the wedding venue–a nod to tradition–but Marilyn has a suspicion that it’s given Jack too much time in his own head.

She’s right, of course. She knows both her boys better than they know themselves.

“Come in.” Jack’s voice wavers a little behind the door, and Marilyn grants herself the luxury of a sigh before she enters.

Jack is perched on the edge of the bed in his own navy suit pants and white dress shirt, but still in his stocking feet. He doesn’t look up when Marilyn comes in; he’s too busy fidgeting with his cufflinks.

“Can I help, sweetheart?” Marilyn asks. She sets the boutonniere on a wooden washstand outfitted with an old pitcher and ewer.

Jack looks up then, and Marilyn tries not to wince when she sees the harried state of his face. There are phantom smudges of dark circles beneath his pretty blue eyes, and when he tries to smile, his face crumbles.

“Mama–”

Marilyn is across the room in an instant. She sits beside Jack on the bed and gathers him into her arms. When his face presses against her shoulder, she can feel his sweat through the silk shoulder of her dress.

“Oh, now. What’s all this?” she asks. She smooths the sweat damp hair on the back of his neck, and when her hand dips between his shoulder blades, she feels his sob coming even before she hears it. “Jack–”

“He can’t do this,” Jack murmurs. “I can’t let him do this.”

Marilyn’s heart sinks, and she moves her grip to Jack’s shoulders, forcing him backward to look at her. “Do what, honey?” she asks, even though she already knows the answer.

“He shouldn’t–we shouldn’t–I’m not–you–Mama, I–”

Jack’s breath is too fast, and he loses his words in another sob, even though he tries to muffle the sound.

“Jack–”

“I shouldn’t have asked him,” Jack manages. “He thinks he has to–”

“Jack!” Marilyn’s hand goes to Jack’s cheek, and she uses her thumb to brush away his tears. “Honey, where is this coming from?”

Jack squeezes his eyes shut and shakes his head. “I didn’t think. I just–I wanted him so bad, I couldn’t help it.”

“Oh, sweetheart. He wants you too. More than anything. I thought you knew that.”

“He wants who I used to be,” Jack whispers.

His chin falls to his chest, and Marilyn’s heart falls with it. Maybe she doesn’t know so much about the things Jack’s been through–though she certainly knows more than she wants to–but she knows what it is to lose hold of yourself. To want something that will never come back. She knows how frightening that want can make every subsequent step, because every step away from where you’ve been is a step farther from what you know.

But she had Joe when she took those steps, and she did it for him. Jack has Joe too, and this Joe–well, Jack’s Joe is stronger than he’s ever been. Jack is stronger than he knows, but if he can’t see it, Marilyn knows Joe can help him.

“That isn’t true,” Marilyn says gently.

“No,” Jack scoffs, “he probably doesn’t even want that.”

“Jack,” Marilyn says, her voice sharper than she means it to be.

For just a second, she has half a mind to go down the hall to get Joe, to let him do the comforting, but she knows she shouldn’t. Joe shouldn’t see this. He would assume that it’s his fault, that he hasn’t done enough to make Jack feel safe, and Marilyn will not let him think that. At least, not anymore than he already does. The truth of the matter is that no one can protect Jack from himself, not even Joe. But Marilyn can protect Joe from this moment, and she will.

“I’m no good for anyone. I’m not even any good to myself. It’s not fair to him. It’s–”

“Jack, stop it,” Marilyn chides. “You know that isn’t true.”

“I don’t,” Jack whispers.

“You do. In your heart of hearts. I know that, honey. You’re just afraid.”

Jack looks at her with swimming eyes. “I am. Mama, do you–”

“What, sweetheart?”

He touches his fingertips to the band of rough scar tissue at his throat, and he looks at her helplessly.

“I can’t even wear a tie. To my own wedding. Because–”

“Well, you look handsome either way,” Marilyn says lightly.

“Oh, they made sure I was still handsome,” Jack snaps. “Just not–I’m not–”

He dissolves into sobs again, and Marilyn folds him back into her arms. He doesn’t fight her, and she is glad. It was hard to keep from touching him when he came home, but she and Joe were both so careful with him.

“Joe waited for you, sweetheart,” she murmurs into Jack’s hair. “He waited for you even after you came home. And he didn’t do it out of some misplaced sense of duty, although you and I both know he has one of those too.” Jack lets go a cheerless laugh, but Marilyn doesn’t hesitate: “He waited because he loves you, and he has always, always believed in the promise of your lives together.”

Jack’s forehead grinds into Marilyn’s arm, and she presses a kiss to the crown of his head. The future is something that Jack is still struggling to reach for. He was told for so long that his future depended on other people’s whims that he’d stopped wondering what was ahead; it was probably easier not to imagine it, Marilyn thinks. But her Joe, he never stopped imagining his future with Jack. He couldn’t, even when Marilyn thought it might be better if he did. But she won’t admit that now. It was foolish to doubt them.

“If you hadn’t come home,” Marilyn’s voice catches, and she steels herself, “if you hadn’t gotten better, he would have died, Jack. You’re two halves of the same whole, honey.” She squeezes Jack and laughs softly. “You’d think that a psychiatrist would be a bit more careful about codependency, but–”

This time, Jack’s laugh is a little stronger.

“There you are.” Marilyn rocks Jack back and forth in her arms, the way she used to rock Joe when he was a little boy. She wishes that Jack had been loved that way before Joe, but she is more than happy to make up for it now. She kisses his hair again, and she imagines he is the child he once was, that she’s stopping the pain before it ever starts. “And you know that you made yourself well again, don’t you? We were there to support you, but, Jack Kenyon, you are made of stronger stuff than anyone I’ve ever met.”

“I don’t always feel strong,” Jack says softly.

“You don’t have to. You just have to believe in the strength around you. Do you trust Joe?”

Marilyn is almost certain she feels Jack’s cheeks rise in a smile. “Always.”

“Then you trust him to make his own decisions, just like he trusts you,” Marilyn replies. Jack takes a deep breath, like he’s about to protest, and she shakes her head. “And trust his strength when you feel like you can’t trust your own. But I’m telling you now, sweetheart: you’ve got everything you need already inside of you. You always have.”

Marilyn believes what she is saying. She thinks of what Jack must have been like as a boy, of his open heart and wide eyes, of the way he must have yearned for the love it felt like everyone else lucked into. She knows without knowing that he would have been a soft child, affectionate to a fault–until someone made him second guess what that affection really meant. But he survived. He’s survived so much, and he couldn’t have done that if he were not as strong as Marilyn knows he is. She only hopes Jack knows it too.

He is quiet for a moment. Then, he wraps his arms around Marilyn’s waist. “Thank you.”

Marilyn holds him close. “You’re always welcome, sweetheart.”

“Is Joey ready?”

“He can’t wait to see you.”

“Really?”

Jack’s voice is small, but it isn’t sad anymore; now, it’s full of wonder. Wonder at her Joe. At the love that Marilyn hopes Jack will someday reach for with greedy hands.

Marilyn nods and pulls away, cupping Jack’s tear-stained cheek in her hand. “Really. He loves you so much.”

“I love him too.”

“I know you do.”

Jack looks down at his knees. “It’s enough?”

Marilyn tucks her fingers beneath his chin and forces him to meet her eyes. “You are more than enough, Jack. Please, try to believe that.”

“I’ll try. I–I’ve been trying. It’s just hard sometimes.”

“I know, honey. Just keep trying. That’s all Joe will ever ask.”

“I will.”

Marilyn leans forward to kiss Jack’s cheek. He closes his eyes again, and at once, Marilyn feels both lucky and sad; lucky that she is the one to show this boy what a mother’s love might look like, and sad that he hasn’t known it before now.

Jack takes a shaky breath, and then he slips on his shoes, tying them slowly, carefully. He stands, smoothing his dress shirt and tucking the front into his navy slacks. He picks up the cufflinks again, and this time, he doesn’t struggle. His fingers are sure and steady. He looks so much stronger than when he came home, Marilyn thinks, and even though there are hints of what he went through–the scarring beneath his collar, the fine lines that have appeared too early–he is still handsome. His dark hair is thick and glossy again even if it is threaded with premature gray, and there’s the slightest hint of stubble on his lean jaw. Marilyn smiles: Joe is a lucky man.

“You look wonderful, honey. Here, put on your coat. I brought something for you.” Marilyn grabs the clamshell and pops it open as Jack buttons the front of his jacket. She pins the boutonniere over Jack’s heart. “Bear has one to match.”

Jack’s breath catches. “Forget-me-nots.”

“I thought–”

“They’re perfect,” he whispers. He looks up, and even though his eyes are bright with tears, there’s a smile on his face. “I didn’t forget.”

“Neither did he,” Marilyn answers. There is more to say, but now is not the time. Instead, she sniffs and pats her hands on the flat plane of Jack’s chest. “Now, you’d better get out there and have that first look. Don’t keep Joe waiting.”

“Never again.”

Jack squeezes Marilyn’s hand as he goes, and then she is alone.

They’re here, she thinks. They’ve done it.

She moves to the window. It faces the courtyard below, and she can see Joe leaning against the flat of a whitewashed brick corner. The photographer is speaking to him. Joe is smiling and laughing, and then, the photographer sees Jack approaching and presses a finger to her own smiling lips.

She says something that Marilyn can’t hear, but it doesn’t matter. Nothing matters except her boys. Joe reaches his arm along the wall, and Marilyn watches as the photographer talks Jack through his paces until his back is flat against the other side of the corner, his fingers stretching toward Joe’s.

Their hands touch, and Joe can hardly stand it; Marilyn can see his tears from here. His knees buckle, and at once, Jack is around the corner, kneeling with him, wrapping his arms around Joe and holding him close. Their pants will need a thorough dusting before the ceremony, but that’s the last thing anyone is thinking of.

The photographer steps back, and Joe’s hands are on Jack’s face. His lips move, and Jack nods, his hands firm on Joe’s shoulders. There is a flash, but the boys don’t react. All they can see is each other, and they are smiling through their tears.

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#behavior modification #recovery arc #wedding!#jack kenyon oc #joe prescott oc #marilyn prescott oc #whump writing #posting at a dumb time #but that's what reblogs are for

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marvelous-writer · 2 years

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Faint Now Or Forever Hold Your Peace

Summary: In which Peter tries to hide a stab wound from everyone on the day of May and Happy’s wedding… only it doesn’t go as he hoped it would.

Whumptober Day 4: Hidden Injury, Waking Up Disoriented, and Can’t Pass Out

@whumptober @whumptober-archive

Rating: G

Word Count: 16,517

Genre: whump, hurt/comfort, humor

Link to read on AO3

“I’m so s-stupid. S-So...so... stupid.” Peter mumbles to himself as he crawls through his bedroom window, clutching at the steadily bleeding stab wound on his side.

Going out on patrol tonight— of all nights —was a mistake. Between patrolling and all the last-minute preparations for May and Happy’s upcoming wedding, the stress and lack of sleep are really starting to take a toll on him.

Peter has felt how sluggish and off his game he’s been for the past few days now, which is how the mugger he faced off against tonight managed to plunge a knife into his side, not even thirty minutes ago.

“How bad is it, Karen?” Peter whispers into the darkness of his room as he leans against the wall as a wave of dizziness washes over him.

He’s lucky he even made it back home.

“Scanning,” Karen responds, going silent for a few seconds. “I’m detecting no major organ damage, though the wound is quite deep and will require stitches. I recommend seeking medical attention immediately. Shall I contact, Mr. Stark?”

Peter knows he should get help with this but May and Happy are getting married tomorrow. There’s just so much happening and so much to do before they say ‘I do,” he can’t risk ruining their wedding day just because of a little stab wound. If May finds out about this, she’ll absolutely freak out and she’d be more worried about him than her own wedding . She shouldn’t have to be worried about him or anything else tomorrow other than walking down that aisle to Happy and saying ‘I do.’

“No.” Peter says, shaking his head. “I can take care of it myself.”

“I advise you to seek help from a medical professional, Peter. I don’t believe you are qualified to administer stitches, especially on yourself.”

“Wow, thanks for the vote of confidence, Karen,” Peter jokes as he pushes off the wall, wincing as pain flares up in his side from the movement. “I’ve seen Dr. Cho and Dr. Banner stitch me up a thousand times. How hard can it be?”

“If you’re sure, Peter.” Karen says with a hint of uncertainty and worry in her voice.

Peter squints against the darkness of his room, mindful of the cardboard boxes scattered around on the floor, filled to the brim of his things for the big move to Happy’s apartment in the coming days after the wedding.

When he safely makes it to his door, Peter opens his bedroom door and silently ventures out into the dark hallway, making sure to avoid the squeaky floorboards. Once he reaches the bathroom up the hallway, he closes the door behind himself and flips on the lights, squinting from the sudden onslaught of bright LED lights. He reaches under the sink cabinet for the first-aid kit and takes it out, setting it down on the counter—which is thankfully well stocked, thanks to May—and gets to work.

Peter carefully peels off his suit in front of the mirror, except for his mask, allowing him to have a good look at the wound… and it isn’t a pretty sight. It’s about four inches long and the skin around the slash is swollen and bruised, standing out against all of the dried and fresh, oozing blood.

Peter’s stomach churns at the sight.

He swallows thickly, forcing himself to look away as he carefully presses a thick wad of toilet paper against the wound. “Karen, it’s still bleeding… what do I do?” He shakily whispers.

“I still recommend you seek help from a medical professional, Peter. Can I contact, Mr. Stark for you?” She offers, almost in a pleading tone.

“No. I can do this on my own, Karen. I just need to stop the bleeding. Can you, like… I don’t know… Google it?”

Karen is silent for a few seconds, long enough for Peter to worry she’s gone against his wishes and called Tony. “Searching,” She finally says, breaking the tense silence. In the corner of his mask’s HUD, he can see a few webpages popping up, one being WebMD. “According to this article, you should apply direct pressure against the wound with a cloth or gauze pad until the bleeding stops.”

Peter nods. “Already doing that. W-What else?”

“Is the bleeding severe?”

“Uh…” Peter pauses as he glances down at the toilet tissue in his hand, which is now red and soaked with his blood. “A-A little.”

“Keep applying pressure to it and don’t remove the cloth or gauze. If the blood soaks through, apply more cloth or gauze on top.”

Peter shakily nods as he manages to grab more paper towels, pressing it against his side. He winces at the sharp pain it brings as he sits on the closed of the toilet lid, starting to feel very lightheaded and nauseous all of a sudden.

And he hasn’t even gotten to doing the stitches yet.

Peter sighs and closes his eyes as he rests his head against the wall behind him. He sits there for a few long, pain-filled moments, adding more toilet tissue to his side until the bleeding finally stops. He carefully peels away the layers of bloody tissue and inspects the wound. It looks the same, just not as angry red and dripping with blood.

“It stopped bleeding now, Karen. What do I do now?” ‘Peter whispers.

“You need to gently clean the wound with soap and water.”

“Okay. Soap and water… got it.” He says, nodding as he slowly stands up, only for another powerful wave of dizziness to wash over him.

He grabs onto the sink countertop for support and sits back down on the toilet lid, waiting for it to pass. The last thing he needs is to pass out on the bathroom floor from blood loss and have May walk in on that sight.

Peter grits his teeth determinedly and squeezes his eyes shut as he takes in deep, even breaths. It takes a few minutes before he feels steady enough to open his eyes again and then slowly gets back to his feet.

He steps over to the sink and turns the faucet on, grabbing a facecloth from the closet while he waits for the water to heat up. He adds a little soap to the cloth and runs it under the warm water, then wrings it out and starts to carefully wipe away the dried blood around the wound. With even the slightest press of the cloth, searing pain shoots through his side, causing Peter to hiss sharply through gritted teeth.

By the time he’s finally finished, the wound looks marginally better.

Maybe he’ll be fine after all.

“I’m afraid you still require a few stitches, given how deep the wound is, Peter.” Karen says, almost as if she can read his thoughts.

Cold dread pools in Peter’s stomach at that. For just a brief second, he considers calling Tony for help but Tony is just as busy and invested in this wedding as May and Happy are. Tony has been helping plan this wedding for months, doing everything from booking the venue to personally selecting the catering staff and band, basically stealing the actual wedding planner’s job from her. Tony has taken his role as Happy’s Best Man very seriously.

Everyone is scheduled to be heading into the city, deep in Manhattan in the morning to the hotel where the wedding will take place, right on the rooftop with a picturesque view of the Hudson, as well as a breathtaking view of the New York skyline. Tony, Pepper and Morgan are going to head into the city early in the morning, so Tony needs all the sleep he can get.

And Peter isn’t going to wake him up at two-thirty in the morning because of his own stupidity.

Besides, how hard can a few stitches be? May taught him how to patch a hole in his shirt once with a needle and thread.

He’s got this.

…

Ten minutes later, Peter is seated on the closed toilet lid once again after throwing back one of his specially made pain meds Bruce and Tony made him to take the edge off the pain. The necessary supplies he’s going to need are all spread out on the sink counter. All that’s left to do is actually start stitching himself up.

Peter takes in a deep breath as he stares down at the threaded needle in his trembling hand, feeling a cold sweat forming on his lower back. He shakily lets out the breath he’s been holding.

"I’ve got this. I’ve got this.” He mumbles to himself, bringing the needle down to the stab wound.

Turns out… he doesn’t have it in him to make the first stitch—not for a few minutes at least. When he finally works up the nerve to at least let the needle pierce his skin, Peter hisses out in pain as he pulls it through, his stomach rolling with nausea all the while.

It takes a long time as he carefully pushes the needle in and out of his bruised skin along the wound with Karen’s guidance, fighting against the increasing nausea until he’s finally done. It takes twelve stitches in total until the wound is fully closed. He ties a final knot in the end of the thread before snipping the rest off with a pair of scissors.

Peter closes his eyes and lets out a relieved sigh, letting his head fall back against the wall behind him.

“Great job, Peter. Now all you need to do is apply bacitracin and a bandage to the wound to prevent it from becoming infected.” Karen directs.

“Okay.” Peter says with a small nod as he shakily gets to his feet.

He tosses the bloody toilet tissue in the toilet to dispose the evidence before he takes out a large bandaid and the tube of bacitracin from the first aid kit. Using a a-tip, he carefully applies the clear substance over the line of stitches. He takes the bandaid out of the wrapper and gently places it over the stitches and ointment, letting out another relieved breath.

He was able to take care of this all on his own and no one found out about it thankfully.

Crisis averted.

“Thanks for your help, Karen,” Peter gratefully says. “I’m gonna head to bed now.”

“Anytime, Peter. Sleep well and be sure you don’t lie down on your injured side.”

“Thanks.” He mumbles with a tired smile as he pulls his mask off and runs a hand through his sweaty curls.

With one last look around the bathroom to make sure he hasn’t left any bloody evidence, Peter quietly makes his way out of the bathroom and down the hallway. Once he’s back in his room, he carelessly tosses his suit in his closet (he’ll need to patch the hole in the side before Tony sees it), and pulls on a pair plaid pajama bottoms and a clean shirt.

Peter squeezes his eyes shut with a groan when the stitches pull at his side from the movement of slipping his shirt on over his head, pain radiating all through his side.

He reaches an arm out and blindly feels around on his nightstand until he finds his phone where he left it, squinting from the screen’s brightness when he brings it to his face. It’s now three-fifty in the morning, giving him a mere four and a half hours of sleep before he has to get up and get ready. He and May need to leave the apartment at eight o’clock sharp to head over to the hotel. It’s going to be such a jam-packed day, ideally requiring a full-night’s rest.

He hopes May is sleeping well with the fact that she’s getting married tomorrow evening.

And what a groomsman he’s going to be, looking tired to all hell with dark circles under his eyes. And not to mention the stab wound.

“I’m so screwed…” Peter mumbles to himself as he sets his alarms before putting his phone back down on the nightstand.

Hopefully a few hours of sleep is all he’ll need for his healing to kick in. Besides, it’s not that bad. It’s certainly not the first time he’s been stabbed after all, and probably not the last time either.

He’ll be fine.

…

“-eter…” A soft, warm voice filters through the pitch black darkness. “-eter…”

Peter can feel consciousness slowly coming back to him in waves, but he feels like he’s struggling to stay afloat.

“-eter, honey…” The voice calls again.

Peter pushes against the darkness a little more and a soft, warm light filters through the darkness.

“Peter…” The voice repeats. “Wake up, honey.”

Peter manages to blink his heavy eyes open, blinking sluggishly a few times, only to find May sitting on the edge of his bed, smiling at him.

“Good-morning, sleepyhead.” May says in a joking tone, smiling.

Peter manages a tired smile. “Morning.”

“You slept through all of your alarms. Did you come in late from patrolling last night?” She asks.

Peter sighs as he glances over at his alarm clock, seeing that it’s now seven-fifty. He looks back at her. “Yeah, sorry. There were a few robberies on the way. I didn’t mean to sleep in. You should be the one to get some more sleep.” He says as he slowly sits up, forcing himself not to react when he feels the stitches pull in his side.

May laughs at that. “I woke up on the earlier side to pack up an few more things around here. Nervous energy I guess,” she says as she stands up from the bed. “Speaking of which, we have to leave here no later than eight-fifteen. When we get to the hotel, I need to check over everything with the wedding planner just to make sure we’re all set for tonight and you need to meet up with Happy to get the rings, get into your tux, and I need to—“

“May,” Peter interrupts her, offering her what he hopes to be a reassuring smile. “I’ve got this. I’ll meet up with Happy when we get there and you’re going to have the best wedding, I know it. Tony is handling all of the final details with the wedding planner and you know he’ll make sure everything is perfect. You’re the bride and you should relax and have a nice, stress-free day.”

May’s shoulders drop as she smiles and walks over to him, leaning down to hug him. “Thank you, honey. That means so much coming from you.”

They remain like that for a few more seconds before May pulls away, sniffing, wiping a few stray tears from her eyes. “Okay,” she says, pointing at him. “Go get ready. I’ll have some toast and fruit on the counter for you to take with you in the car.”

“Okay,” Peter says with a nod. “Just don’t bring anything down to the car yet, okay? I’ve got it.”

“It’ll only be a few things—“

“May,” Peter says, giving her a pointed look. “It’s your wedding day. No bride should have to carry suitcases down to her car. That’s why I’m here.” He says with a smile.

May laughs at that, holding her hands up. “Okay, no heavy lifting from me,” She says before lowering her arms and heading towards his door. “Ten minutes, okay?” She says before stepping out into the hallway.

“Okay!” He calls out.

Peter lets out a sigh as he swings his legs out of his bed and stands up, only to freeze when pain flares through his side, feeling the stitches pull once again. He stays there for a few long seconds, holding his breath until the pain starts to dull down.

“Ouch…” Peter mumbles to himself, wincing.

He slowly moves around in his room, grabbing his hoodie and jeans and heads out of his room and down the hallway to the bathroom. He puts his things down on the counter and looks up at his reflection in the mirror, seeing how his skin is a little bit paler than usual, standing out against the dark circles under his eyes.

But what catches his attention… is the dark spot on his white shirt over his wound.

Peter frowns as he lifts his shirt up, only to see that he had bled through the bandages at some point during the night. He carefully pulls the bandaid away, biting his bottom lip to prevent himself from groaning as it pulls at his skin. When the bandaid is off, his stomach sinks at the sight he’s met with.

The wound is angry red with a purple and almost black bruise, with a yellowish substance near the stitches, as well as some blood.

It’s infected.

Peter swallows hard, staring at it for a few moments, trying to come up with a plan in his head. He’s had a wound get infected before. First thing’s first… he is going to take a shower, then clean it, apply more bacitracin and put another bandage on it.

Easy peasy.

He takes a quick shower, mindful of the stab wound, until he steps out and carefully dries himself down, scrubbing his wet hair with the towel. Peter takes out the necessary medical supplies he needs before he cleans the wound as carefully as he can, wincing at the pain it brings. Once that’s done, he applies more bacitracin to help against the infection and not let it get any worse, and carefully applies a gauze pad with medical tape, instead of a big bandaid.

“Are you almost ready in there?” May asks from outside the bathroom door once Peter is dressed in his hoodie and jeans.

“Yep, I just have to grab my shoes.” Peter says as he takes one more look at himself in the mirror before he opens the door, smiling at his aunt who’s standing there.

“Okay,” She says with a smile. “I’ll start heading down to the car with just a few light things.”

“Sure.” Peter says as he heads to his room, eyeing his shoes where he left them by his closet yesterday. He slips on a pair of socks before shoving his feet into them.

Peter moves around his room as quickly as he can, shoving his suit into his backpack, along with his laptop and it’s charger, and his camera and its charger. He’s been signed on as one of the photographers for the wedding, but it’s mostly to snap photos of the little moments for them and the actual photographer that was hired for the wedding will capture the big stuff.

He stuffs his toothbrush, comb, hair gel, and other clothes and necessities he needs for this weekend in his duffle bag. The plan is for the wedding to take place today, followed by them staying at the hotel for the rest of the weekend and then Happy and May are off on their honeymoon to Hawaii as Peter stays up at the cabin with Tony, Pepper and Morgan.

How Peter is going to be able to hide his injury… he has no idea but he’ll just have to figure it out.

With everything all packed in his bags, Peter grabs his phone off his nightstand and heads out of his room, flipping the ceiling light off as he goes.

He walks down the hallway as May walks back in the apartment. “All ready to go.” He tells her with a smile.

“Great. I am too finally —I think.”

Peter can tell how nervous she is for today, even though she won’t admit it out loud. The one thing that helps May is a checklist.

“You have your clothes and everything you need for this weekend?” He asks her.

May nods. “Yes and if I don’t have enough for the honeymoon, I’ll stop by here on the way to the airport.”

“You have your vail?”

“Yes. It’s in my bag.”

“You have your phone, your tablet and all of the chargers?”

“Yes and yes.”

“You have all of your makeup and… everything?” Peter asks in an unsure tone.

He remembers seeing makeup on the reminders list May wrote down for the things to bring.

May laughs at that. “Yes,” She says, nodding before she lets out a sigh. “I guess all that’s left to do is say ‘I do’ to Happy.” She says with a nervous chuckle.

“It’s going to be great. You’ll see.” Peter tells her with a smile.

May sighs again and throws her arms out, wrapping him in another tight, warm hug. “You’re right.”

Peter is the first to pull away this time. “I’ll bring the rest of the stuff down to the car. Why don’t you make yourself some tea for the road?” He suggests, knowing tea always helped calm her down when she’s nervous.

“Tea, yes—good idea. Are you sure you don’t need any help?” She asks.

“I’m sure!” Peter says as he heads over to the apartment door and opens it, slinging his backpack over his shoulders and picks up May’s suitcase in one hand, his duffel bag in the other.

He heads out of the apartment and towards the stairs, since the elevator is out of service—again. That’s one thing he’s not going to miss about this apartment building. Their landlord is careless and cheap, so the elevator is always going out of service with it not being taken care of like it should probably be.

Four flights of stairs to go.

He starts down the stairs, adjusting his grip on May’s suitcase as he heads down, wincing as the movement causes his side to flare up with pain. He grits his teeth as he fights through it.

He’s halfway down the third flight when white, hot pain erupts through his side. Peter lets out a surprised yelp at the suddenness of it, causing him to hit the railing next to him… directly on his injured side.

The next few seconds are a blur as pain takes over him, black dots racing in front of Peter’s eyes. He doesn’t pass out thankfully but he manages to sit down on the stairs in case he does. He groans as he carefully grabs his injured side, praying that he didn’t rip one of the stitches because that would be an absolute nightmare to fix.

He sits there for a few minutes, his vision thankfully going back to normal as the pain in his side subsides slightly, but not completely. Peter lets out a shaky breath and slowly stands up, feeling a little better now.

He’s grateful May hasn’t come down yet and seen him. She would have freaked out, especially with how nervous she already is.

Peter picks up his duffle bag and May’s suitcase once again, continuing his way down the stairs, now very mindful of the railing. It takes a few minutes before he reaches the lobby and he walks outside, taking in a deep breath of the crisp, fall air. He walks over to May’s car and opens the trunk, putting their things inside before shutting it. He walks around to the passenger seat and gets in, letting out a relieved breath when he’s finally sitting down. He closes his eyes for a few minutes until the driver’s side opens and May gets in, a thermos in one hand with her handbag in the other.

“Ready to go?”

“Yup.” Peter says, forcing a smile.

May starts the old Volvo up, pulls it out of the parking spot and then they’re on their way to the hotel.

…

It takes then thirty minutes to reach the hotel in Manhattan, facing only a little rush-hour traffic, even for a Friday morning. May pulls the car up to the hotel’s portico before turning it off.

An older man dressed in a fancy suit, followed by a fancily dressed woman, walks out to greet them. Peter remembers him from the day they toured the hotel, the hotel manager, Daniel.

“Hello, Mrs. Parker. It’s so nice to see you again, looking as radiant as ever on your big day.” The man says, giving May a smile.

“Oh, thank you, Daniel.” May says, with a smile.

“And—Peter, right? One of the groomsmen.” Daniel says, holding his hand out to Peter.

“That’s me.” Peter says with a polite smile, shaking his hand.

“Excellent,” Daniel says before turning back to May. “Your party is waiting for you upstairs. The guests, as well as Mr. Hogan’s family and yours are scheduled to arrive this afternoon. Can we take your things upstairs for you?”

“Please.” May says with a smile.

A chauffeur walks over and May hands him the keys to her car, followed by a baggage porter who takes their bags from them. The man reaches to take Peter’s backpack from him that holds his Spidey suit, causing Peter to move the bag away from his reach.

“I-I’ll hold onto this, thank you.” Peter politely says.

The man just nods before he turns away, wheeling their bags into the hotel.

“Wonderful. Now, if you two will just follow me, please. I’ll show you the way to your rooms. And, Mrs. Parker as tradition goes, no seeing your groom until the ceremony!”

May nods with a smile. “Of course.” She says, following behind him as he starts walking into the hotel.

Peter feels absolutely exhausted as he follows behind May into the fancy hotel lobby, trying not to drag his feet on the polished marble floors. He almost can’t believe that they’re staying here with how insanely expensive this place must be but Tony insisted on paying for the whole thing, despite the how hard May and Happy tried to talk him out of it.

“As you can see, we’ve remodeled in the last year, which puts us on par with the other luxury hotels in the city,” Daniel tells them as they walk through the busy hotel lobby, gesturing around to various areas. “There’s our restaurant and bar, over to this side is our lounge, and of course, our signature view of the Manhattan skyline. Our amenities include a twenty-four hour fitness center, spa, as well as an Olympic sized swimming pool and jacuzzi.” He says, stopping at a set of golden elevator doors.

The elevator doors slide open with a ding and they all pile inside, the baggage porter follows behind them with their luggage. When they arrive at the tenth floor, they follow Daniel out and walk down a long hallway before stopping at one of the doors at the end of the hallway.

“For the bride, the ‘I Do’ suite. I hope you like it.” he says with a smile as he swipes a key card through the scanner on the door.

When he opens the door, they’re greeted with the sight of floor-to-ceiling windows across the large space that wrap around the entire room with a beautiful view of the Manhattan skyline as the sunrises, illuminating the buildings a gorgeous gold. The room is spaced out with polished hardwood floor and from the door, Peter can see a kitchen across the room, as well as a spacious living room with a large sectional couch and a massive flatscreen tv mounted on the wall.

“Oh, wow…” May breathes out, seemingly speechless as well as Peter as she walks inside the suite, looking around at everything. “It’s beautiful.”

“I’m glad you like it,” Daniel says with a pleased smile before gesturing to a nearby table by the living room. “We have complementary nuptial basket for you with some champagne on ice. And upstairs, we have the master bedroom with his and her robes. If there’s anything you need, please don’t hesitate to call me. Here is my direct number,” He tells May as he takes a business card out from his suit jacket, handing it to her. “I hope you enjoy. Now, if you’ll excuse me.” He says with a polite smile before walking back towards the door.

The porter follows behind him and back out into the hallway after bringing their bags inside the room, leaving them by the couch. The door closes behind them with a soft click, leaving Peter and May alone in the overly large, fancy room.

“Well,” May says with a laugh. “Tony really goes all out, doesn’t he?”

Peter smiles with a small chuckle. “Yes he does.” He agrees.

May walks further into the room, seemingly star-struck as she takes in the massive space, dropping her hand bag on the couch. Peter trails behind her and sits down on the couch, biting the inside of his cheek when the stitches pull painfully on his side.

He sits there for a few minutes while May explores the place and brings her bags upstairs to her room. Peter sits there and tries to relax, as well as ignore the throbbing ache in his side. He drops his head against the back of the couch, closing his eyes as he breathes out a sigh through his nose. Hopefully he’ll be able to squeeze in a nap sometime today. If not, he has no chance of staying awake during the reception tonight.

He opens his eyes and lifts his head up when he heard May coming back down the stairs.

“Tony texted me that he’ll be up in a little bit. I have a spa appointment in twenty minutes with Pepper, so I’m going to leave now.” She tells him.

“Okay. Have fun.” Peter says, offering her a smile.

“Why don’t you take a little nap while I’m gone? You don’t have to get your tux on until later around three.” She suggests.

“Yeah, I think I will.”

May smiles warmly at him as she bends over the back of the couch and kisses the top of his head. “I’ll see you later. Love you!” She says as she stands back and starts heading towards the door.

“Love you too!”

When May walks out of the suite and the door clicks shut behind her, Peter breathes out a long sigh, wincing as he gently places a hand on his throbbing side. Too bad he didn’t think to grab his pain meds from the medicine cabinet in the kitchen back at home. And he doesn’t even have any Advil he can take, even though they would do next to nothing in making a dent in the pain he’s in.

He could always ask Tony for one of his pain meds and tell him a tiny white lie that he has a headache… but it’s risky. Tony is too smart for that and would see right through the lie.

It’s either that or suffer the whole day.

But for now, he’s going to take a nap until Tony gets here.

Peter slips off his sneakers and carefully maneuvers himself so he’s lying down, his head resting on one of the throw pillows with his legs stretched out along the length of the chaise section of the couch. He breathes out a content sigh and closes his eyes, feeling the tension leave his limbs and back.

It only takes a matter of minutes before he’s sound asleep.

…

“Pete, you gotta let go I’m gonna catch you.” Tony tells him.

“But you said save the wizard!” Peter argues, sparing a glance over his shoulder, only for paralyzing fear to shoot through him at the sight he’s met with, being thousands upon thousands of feet in the air above Earth, watching Manhattan become a tiny dot in the middle of the ocean.

Peter squeezes his eyes shut, clinging onto the spaceship for dear life by the tips of his sticky fingers. He’s having difficulty breathing now as he gets higher, feeling like the air in his lungs is being sucked right out of him.

“I-I can’t breathe,” Peter gasps out, reaching up to rip his mask off, feeling like it’s suffocating him.

“You’re too high up, you’re running out of air.” Tony tells him, his voice etched with worry.

Peter feels so lightheaded and dizzy all of a sudden.

Floaty.

“That…. That makes sense.” He breathes out, slowly nodding.

He’s barely aware that his fingers unstick from the ship’s metal surface when he suddenly feels himself falling backwards, everything spinning around him as he sees the Earth below him, rushing up to meet him.

“Peter!” He hears Tony scream his name.

Peter’s eyes snap open with a gasp, feeling his heart hammering away in his chest.

“Hey-hey, it’s alright,” A familiar voice says at his side.

Peter blinks and turns his head, seeing Tony kneeling beside him with a worried frown, dressed in a plain t-shirt and a suit jacket with a pair of jeans.

“H-Hey… sorry.” Peter pants out, as he tiredly rubs at his eyes. He can feel his hoodie uncomfortably sticking to his sweaty back and chest.

“Bad dream?”

Peter nods. “Y-Yeah… one of those falling dreams.”

Tony hums at the back of his throat. “Those are the worst.”

Peter lets out a sigh as he drops his hand, looking up at him. “When did you get here?”

“A few minutes ago. I came in here to find you screaming quite a bit.” Tony says, brows still pulled together.

Peter winces at that. “Sorry. I hope no one else around here heard that.”

“Well it’s a pretty big hotel, so I think we’re good,” Tony says, offering a reassuring smile as he stands up. “Are you okay?” He asks, his face settling back into a worried expression.

“Yeah. I’m good,” Peter nods with a small smile of his own. “What time is it?”

Tony lifts his arm up, looking at his watch. “Nine-thirty.”

Peter lets out a relieved breath. For a second he was afraid he slept longer than that. He slowly sits up, only to pause as pain flares up in his side at the movement, feeling the stitches pulling at his skin again. He tries to keep his face in check and not show any pain.

But Tony knows him so well.

Too well.

“You okay?” Tony asks, brows pulling together in concern.

“Yup. Just… slept with my neck in a weird position.” Peter lies, rubbing at his neck for show.

“Been there before. I have some of your pain meds if it bothers you later. We can’t have you standing up at the alter with a sore neck.” Tony jokes.

Peter’s eyes widen slightly at that. “You brought my pain meds?”

“Of course. With the trouble you get yourself into, I always make sure to have them handy.”

Peter could cry he’s so relieved that he doesn’t have to spend the whole day in pain.

“Uh… yeah, I might take you up on that offer. I don’t want to walk around with a stiff neck and stuff.” He says, trying to play it cool.

“Sure. Just let me grab them. I left them in my bag back in our suite,” Tony says, nodding. “I’ll be back in a few minutes so try not to get yourself into trouble.” He says, pointing a finger at Peter, squinting slightly.

“No promises.” Peter says with a smile.

Tony shakes his head and rolls his eyes half-heartedly before he leaves through the front door, leaving Peter alone once again. He’ll be gone for a few minutes, which leaves him with enough time to check on his wound.

Peter slowly stands up from the couch, wincing as his side continues to throb before he walks around the couch and picks his backpack up on his way to the downstairs bathroom. He goes in and the lights automatically turn on, shutting the door behind him. Peter takes his hoodie off, as well as his t-shirt, only to find a dark red spot on the gauze pad he put on earlier.

“Shit…” Peter mumbles as he carefully pulls the medical tape and gauze away to get a better look.

The wound itself is still angry red and puffy, seeing droplets of fresh blood coming out, clearly still infected but he thankfully didn’t rip any of the stitches when he banged into that railing earlier. If he had… that would have been a big problem.

Peter bends over and zips his backpack open, taking out the box of gauze pads, roll of medical tape and the tube of bacitracin and lays them out on the countertop. He grabs a wad of toilet tissue to wash the wound with because he doesn’t want to ruin a perfectly good and no doubt expensive facecloth from this hotel.

He turns on the faucet and waits a few moments for it to turn warm before he wets the toilet tissue and dabs a little soap on it. He brings the warm tissue to his side and carefully wipes away the blood and leftover ointment. Peter hisses through his teeth when a sharp pain comes from his side. He waits a few seconds until the pain settles into a dull throbbing once again.

When he’s finished cleaning it, he gently pats it dry with another wad of toilet tissue before he applies more bacitracin along the line of stitches. He takes rips two pieces of medical tape and takes out a clean gauze pad, carefully placing it on top of the wound, keeping it in place with the tape.

A sudden knock on the bathroom door causes Peter to nearly jump in his skin, his eyes widening at his reflection in the mirror.

“Are you okay in there, kiddo?” Tony asks.

Shit. I never heard him come back. Peter thinks as his eyes dart around the counter at all of the bloody tissues and gauze pad.

“Yep. I’ll be out in just a sec!” Peter lies in a fake happy voice, trying to keep his voice from shaking.

He hears Tony walk away from the door and he lets out a quiet relieved breath.

Now to dispose of the evidence.

Peter throws the bloody wads of toilet tissue in the toilet and flushes it as he stuffs the bloody gauze pad in his backpack, as gross and unsanitary as it is. He has no other choice. There isn’t even a barrel in the bathroom to throw it in.

When he’s all done cleaning up, he zips his backpack back up and throws his shirt and hoodie back on before waking out of the bathroom. Tony is standing in the kitchen, typing something into his phone. He looks up at Peter with a smile when he walks over, sliding him a cold water bottle from the refrigerator and hands him one of his pain meds.

“Thanks.” Peter gratefully says, wasting no time in popping it in his mouth and washes it down with a sip of the water.

“You feeling up for heading downstairs for breakfast? Happy and Morgan are on their way down now and I’m sure you’re hungry.” Tony offers.

“Yeah I’m starving.” Peter says. “I’m just going to put my shoes on and then we can go.”

“Okay.”

Peter heads back to the living room and finds his sneakers where he left them next to the couch and shoves his feet in them.

“Oh, I forgot to ask. Your aunt left for her spa appointment, right?” Tony asks as he walks over.

“Yeah she left a few minutes after we got here.”

“Good. Pepper’s job as Maid of Honor is to make sure May is relaxed and stress-free, which is why she thought a trip to the spa would do her some good. Lord knows that woman needs to relax, especially today.” Tony says.

“That’s what I’ve been telling her.” Peter says, earning a knowing smile from Tony.

They both walk over to the door and step out into the hallway, Tony locking the door with the keycard to the suite.

“I still can’t believe your aunt and Happy are getting married. It’s been four months leading up to today and I still can’t wrap my head around that.” Tony says with a chuckle as they start to head down the hallway towards the elevator.

“I know.” Peter agrees.

It came as quite a shock to Peter when Happy first proposed to May. Sure, they were dating for almost a year up until that point and Peter was fully supportive of them but it was still… strange seeing May with another guy that wasn’t Ben. But after all this time… Peter has accepted it. He wishes more than anything in the world that Ben was still here with them and they were a family still. He knows the one thing in life Ben always wanted was for May to be happy and Peter knows he would want May to be happy and spend the rest of her life with someone that she loves, someone to keep her company, to keep her safe, and to love her… because Ben isn’t here to do those things. Peter knows that Ben would like Happy.

One thing’s for sure, Happy would go to great lengths to protect May.

And they’re both madly in love with each other, so it’s perfect.

When they both get in the elevator, Peter tiredly leans against the gold elevator railing as Tony hits the button for the bottom floor. He feels the floor move beneath them as the elevator starts its descent, the slow, smoothness of it causes him get sleepy. The motion is so soothing he could fall asleep standing here.

Or maybe that’s his pain meds kicking in since they always make him drowsy.

“Well, I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever. What’s new with you?” Tony asks.

“Mmh, nothing new. I saw you two days ago when I stayed up at the cabin, remember?” Peter says, the corner of his mouth turning into a smile.

“What? Two whole days already? Jeeze. That’s still too long for me to go without seeing you.” Tony says, gently nudging Peter’s arm.

Peter’s smile widens as a familiar warmth fills his chest.

“Speaking of which, know you’re busy with your… extracurricular activities but have you narrowed the college search down any?”

And the conversation he’s been trying to avoid for the past few weeks.

Life has been so crazy lately, first with the blip, Tony almost dying, and then the whole situation with his identity leaking thanks to Beck and Dr. Strange wiping everyone’s minds. He hasn’t had the time or energy to even think about college.

So, Peter made the decision to take a semester off to relax and spend time with family and friends, and patrol.

And it’s been great so far.

It’s been hard not having MJ and Ned around though, since they’re both off at MIT. Peter wants to be with them more than anything but… he doesn’t want to be that far away from home. Is it childish of him? Probably. But it’s true. He has a responsibility to this city as Spider-Man and he has a responsibility to his family. Yes, and his friends… but he can’t do it all.

“Yeah… I’ve been looking at a few options.”

“MIT?” Tony asks in a hopeful tone.

Peter nervously bites his lip. He knows Tony wants him to go to MIT more than anything and follow in his footsteps, and yeah, Peter would love that to but… things are different now. And he can’t tell Tony that he doesn’t want to go because it would break his heart.

“Hey, you don’t have to answer me now about it. I know it’s a big decision,” Tony gently says as he places a reassuring hand on Peter’s shoulder. “Take your time but remember, I’m always here if you want to talk, okay?”

Peter manages a smile at that. “Okay.” He agrees.

The elevator stops and the doors slide open, revealing the lobby. Peter walks next to Tony as he follows him to the restaurant portion of the hotel. Peter shrinks in on himself a little, feeling incredibly underdressed, seeing people pass by them, wearing fancy clothes. This place is too fancy for him.

Tony stops for a second as he scans the room for Happy and Morgan until he spots them sitting at a large table in the corner. “Ah, there they are.” He says, gesturing his head in their direction at Peter.

Peter follows behind him until they get to the table, Morgan immediately spotting them.

“Petey!” She exclaims, jumping down from her chair and running up to meet him.

Peter expects the force of impact from her slamming into his legs, but his side still erupts with pain, causing him to shrink in on himself with a small gasp. He tries to hide it, hoping Tony didn’t notice.

“Hey, Morg!” He says though a smile with slightly clenched teeth.

“I’ve missed you so much! We haven’t seen you in foreveerrr.” She says.

“Honey, it’s been only two days since we last saw him.” Happy reminds her from his seat at the table.

“Still too long!” She says, tightly hugging Peter again.

Peter laughs at that. Like father, like daughter.

“That’s what I told him,” Tony says as he bends down closer to Morgan’s level. “I think we should team up and convince Peter to just move in with us.”

Morgan gasps, her smile widening as she nods. “Yes! That would be so much fun!”

“It would,” Tony agrees looking up at Peter with a told-you-so look before he looks back at Morgan. “But for now, why don’t we get some breakfast, hmm?”

“Okay!” Morgan easily agrees as she goes back to her seat next to Happy.

Tony chuckles as he sits down in one of the empty seats across from Happy and Morgan, Peter sitting next to him. He’s been trying to talk Peter into just moving up to the cabin since he’s there so much and he already has his own room… but it’s a big decision and Peter’s still not sure what he wants to do with his life yet with the whole college situation.

Which he really needs to figure out soon.

“Hey, Pete,” Happy greets with a smile, looking up from a few notecards he has in front of him on the table, which Peter recognizes to be the same cards Happy’s been writing and re-writing his vows on. “How’s May doing today? I was going to call her earlier but… I wasn’t sure if that ‘don’t see the bride before the wedding’ included phone calls too?”

“Pretty sure it doesn’t.” Tony says with a chuckle as he picks up a menu.

Happy gives him a flat look.

“She’s great, actually. She’s at the spa with Pepper now.” Peter says.

Happy looks back to him and nods with a smile. “Good! That’s good.” He says, sounding a little nervous.

And the poor guy definitely looks it, judging by how pale and slightly sweaty he looks.

“He’s a little nervous for this big day.” Tony says, looking at Peter with a knowing and slightly teasing smile.

“I am not.” Happy says.

“Sure you are, Hap. I was in your shoes once before, as you know, being my Best Man. I got so nervous right before the ceremony, I ended up throwing up into a vase.”

Peter can’t hold back the laugh that comes out of him. Morgan giggles at that as well.

“You did?” Peter asks.

“I did indeed. And not just any vase. It was an expensive vase gifted from Pepper’s mother. And boy did she get mad at me.” Tony says with a small, dramatic shudder.

“Yikes.” Peter says.

He’s met Pepper’s mother once and… she’s a little on the cold side but she’s… nice. In her own way.

“Tony,” Happy says as he lets out a sigh, dropping the card in his hand to the wooden table as he rubs his face in his hands. “You’re not helping.”

“Oh, come on, Hap. Trust me, you’ve got this. Just… go easy on the pancakes.” Tony sarcastically says, only to earn another sigh from Happy.

…

After breakfast, they all hang out in Tony, Pepper and Morgan’s suite and wait for the guests to start arriving for the wedding. Including Happy’s mother, who is scheduled to come any minute, which also explains why the poor guy is so nervous. From what Peter understands, Happy and his mom don’t get along all too well. Peter’s never met her but he hopes all goes well tonight.

Rhodey, Bruce, Clint and his wife, and Rick, who is a close friend of Happy’s since elementary school have all arrived. Rhodey, Bruce, Tony, Rick, and Peter are all Happy’s groomsmen, so Happy’s team is all here. Peter feels a tiny bit awkward, being the kid of the group but it’s an honor to stand up there for Happy.

A few hours have already passed by and now it’s close to four o’clock, exactly one and a half hours away from the ceremony. Pepper had stopped by a little while ago and brought Morgan up to the bridal suite, where May is no doubt getting ready, along with her bridesmaids and Morgan, who is the flower girl for the wedding.

For now, they’re able to relax for a little while longer until they all have to get ready.

The only problem is that Peter’s not feeling too hot at the moment.

He’s sitting on the couch, listening to Tony telling another funny story from his wedding over at the mini bar across the room, earning a few chuckles from the group. He can feel a cold sweat all across his back and chest, mixed with an overly hot feeling through his whole body, especially where the stab wound is.

Which definitely can’t be good.

He also feels very nauseous and a bit shaky.

Maybe it’s just pre-wedding nerves?

With his luck, probably not.

Peter squeezes his eyes shut and drops his head back against the couch, taking in deep, even breaths. He just has to get through tonight. He has to do it for May. And for Happy. He wishes he had another one of his pain meds since the last one definitely wore off now. He’d ask Tony for another one but it would be too suspicious, so he’s on his own here.

“Alright, everyone! Let’s all get ready and we’ll meet back here in thirty minutes so the photographer can snap some photos of the Groom and his groomsmen.” Tony suddenly announces, causing Peter to open his eyes and lift his head.

The groomsmen all stand up from the bar and head towards the room door and head out to get ready, leaving Peter alone with Tony and Happy.

“Pete, I’m going to run upstairs to make sure everything’s going good, okay,” Tony says. “So for now, why don’t you put your tux on?”

“Okay.” Peter agrees as he stands up from the couch, inwardly dreading putting that thing on with how crappy he feels.

“Hap, you still got the rings?” Tony asks, looking at Happy.

Happy smiles as he reaches into his jeans pocket, taking out a black ring box. “Yes.”

“Good.” Tony says with a smile.

“One more thing,” Happy says as he walks over to the kitchen and grabs an envelope off the center island counter before bringing it over to Tony. “Can you give this to May, please?”

“Of course,” Tony says, his smile widening before he looks over at Peter. “I’ll see you in a little bit, kiddo!” He says as he heads over to the door and steps out into the hallway, closing the door behind him.

The room goes silent for a few moments until Happy claps his hands together.

“Well, you heard him. I guess we better go get ready.” Happy says with a nervous smile.

Peter nods, offering what he hopes to be a reassuring smile. “Okay. Uh, let me know if you need anything.”

Happy nods, smiling. “I will.”

Peter turns and walks across the space over to the hallway leading to the bedroom he’ll be staying in, finding his tux hanging up in the bare closet, straight from the dry cleaners. He closes the bedroom door behind himself and takes it out of the closet, bringing it with him to the bathroom to get ready.

Peter hangs it up on the shower curtain before he takes off his sweatshirt and shirt once again, finding the gauze pad he put on hours before is now covered in his blood. He frowns as he pulls the gauze away, only for his blood to run cold at the sight he’s met with.

One of the stitches ripped and the infection has clearly gotten worse.

The sight has Peter’s stomach rolling with nausea as he inwardly panics but he doesn’t have time to come up with any form of a plan as he feel something hot shoot up his throat. Peter barely has enough time to lunge at the toilet, grateful that the lid was left open, only to throw up the contents of his stomach.

The mere movement causes a wave of sharp pain from his side, which hopefully isn’t another stitch ripping.

He feels like he’s puking forever until it finally stops, leaving Peter panting and shaking, kneeling on the cold tile floor. He hopes Happy didn’t hear him. This is the last thing poor Happy needs right now with him getting ready for his wedding. He doesn’t need to deal with a stupid, irresponsible, pukey teenager.

I’ve got this. I’ve got this. Peter tells himself.

All he needs is a minute to catch his breath and he’ll get ready.

Peter carefully lowers himself to the floor and lays on his uninjured side, letting out a shaky breath as he closes his eyes.

…

Peter’s eyes snap open to the sound of knocking on the bathroom door. He’s so groggy, he must have been asleep for some time. For a moment, he’s confused as to where he is and why he’s shirtless on the floor, until the events from before come rushing back to him.

He threw up and he’s not ready.

Shit.

“Uh, w-who is it?” Peter calls out as he weakly pulls himself up from the ground by the toilet.

“It’s Rhodey. Are you almost ready in there? The photographer is here and Tony’s wondering where you are, Pete.”

Oh shit. How long was I out for? Peter panics, his eyes darting over to his suit.

“Uh… Y-Yeah I’m all ready to go. I just… lost track of the time!” Peter says as he jumps to his feet, ignoring the way his vision dangerously blurs around the edges and how his side ignites with more pain.

“Are you sure? You… sound funny, Pete.” Rhodey says in an unsure tone.

“I’m all good!” Peter says as he rips the plastic off his tux and carelessly lets it fall to the floor.

He’s struggling to get the suit jacket off the hanger when a wave of dizziness washes over him.

“Not again.” Peter mumbles.

“What was that? Pete are you—”

Before he can hear the rest of Rhodey’s question, Peter feels himself falling backwards, his back slamming against the wall behind him. He weakly cries out in pain as his side burns even more, like someone’s holding a blowtorch against it. He hears muffled words before he sees the bathroom door across from him swing open, revealing Rhodey, all dressed and looking fancy in his tuxedo. Rhodey’s eyes widen as he takes in the sight of him, his eyes trailing around the bathroom, only for his eyes to land on a spot on the floor near Peter.

“Is that blood?”

Peter blinks down at the floor, only to see a small puddle of red by the toilet, where he had laid down and passed out earlier.

“Uh… it’s… ketchup?” Peter dumbly says, his brain too scrambled to come up with anything better to say.

“Are you hurt?” Rhodey quickly says as he shuts the bathroom door behind him, rushing over to kneel in front of Peter.

“N-No, no I-I’m—“ Peter starts to say, trying to get up, only for Rhodey to let out a gasp when he sees his injured side.

“Peter, don’t move,” Rhodey orders in a stern voice, gently placing a hand on Peter’s shoulder to keep him sitting. “What happened?”

“I… I… I just have to get ready—“

“Peter. That’s one of the worst looking wounds I’ve ever seen. You better tell me what happened, and you’re going to do it right now. So start talking.” He orders in a strict, yet caring tone.

Peter gulps. He just looks at Rhodey for a few seconds with wide eyes, probably looking like a scared child, until Peter closes his eyes with a defeated sigh.

“I got stabbed on patrol last night.” He mumbles, loud enough for Rhodey to hear.

Rhodey’s eyes widen at that. “You what? And I’m guessing you haven’t told anyone, right?”

“No and I’m not going to. It’s May and Happy’s wedding and I’m not going to ruin it for them. You know how my aunt is! If she finds out about this she will absolutely freak out and she’ll cancel the whole thing for sure.”

Rhodey looks at him for a moment until his eyes go back down to Peter’s injured side. “Peter… that doesn’t look good at all.”

“Rhodey, you can’t tell anyone. Please.”

“Peter-“

“Rhodey, please.”

Rhodey looks back at him for a few long moments before he lets out a defeated sigh. “I can’t believe that I’m agreeing to this…” he says, shaking his head to himself before looking back at Peter with a serious expression. “Alright. But only for the ceremony. You got it? Right after that, we’re telling Tony and Bruce is going to take a look at you and he’ll decide what happens after that.”

“But-“

“No buts. Is either that or I’m going to go into the next room and tell Tony right now.”

Peter just blinks in shock at him, shakily nodding.

Rhodey lets out a sigh, his shoulders dropping. “Good,” he says. “For now, let me have a look at that wound I’ll see what I can do. And then I’ll help you with your tux if you need me to. We have at least twenty more minutes until we have to go downstairs and greet the guests before standing up at the alter.” He says as he stands up, going over to the cabinet above the toilet as he takes off his suit jacket.

He digs around in there and takes out a small first aid kit before he grabs two facecloths, one damp and one dry, brings the items back over, kneeling down in front of Peter.

“Let me see.” Rhodey gently says to him as he rolls his white dress shirt sleeves up to his elbows.

Peter lets him have access to the wound and rests his head against the wall behind him, looking up at the white ceiling. Rhodey gently presses the warm facecloth against the wound, causing Peter to squeeze his eyes shut with a groan.

“Sorry, Pete,” Rhodey tells him sympathetically. “Damn, this is deep. Too deep for me to be comfortable with this whole thing.”

The bathroom goes silent as Rhodey works, Peter resisting the urge to cry from the amount of pain he’s in, feeling the skin around the wound being pulled, even with Rhodey’s skilled hands.

“I’m assuming you stitched yourself up?” Rhodey asks.

Peter opens his eyes and looks at him without moving his head from where it rests against the wall. “Yeah… are they bad?”

“No, they’re not bad actually. A little crooked, but not bad. Not that I’m encouraging you to make a habit of this,” Rhodey says, giving him a pointed look. “Two of the stitches ripped, so I’m going to have to fix it, okay?”

Peter groans, closing his eyes again.

“I know. It’ll be over before you know it, alright? I can’t leave this wound looking like this,” Rhodey says as he digs through the first aid kit, taking out a small suture kit. “Bruce will probably put you on a round of antibiotics to help against the infection. I still can’t believe I’m going along with this,” he says, shaking his head to himself as he stands up and goes over to the sink, washing his hands once again. “Tony is going to be furious with you and me for not telling him about this sooner, you know.”

Peter breathes out a sigh. “Yeah… I know. Sorry.”

Peter hears the water running until it stops before Rhodey walks back over and kneels next to Peter.

“I’m going to take these stitches out before I stitch the wound back up. You ready?” Rhodey calmly explains to him.

Peter shakily nods. “As I’ll ever be.” He mumbles as he keeps his eyes trained on the ceiling above.

“One… two… three.” Rhodey calmly says before Peter feels an odd pulling sensation in his side as Rhodey removes the stitches he did.

And after all of that hard work—actual blood, sweat and tears.

Peter winces with a low groan, clenching his fists at his sides when he feels a particularly sharp spike of pain as one of the stitches catch to his tender skin.

“It’s okay,” Rhodey gently reassures as he works.

Peter tries to think of anything else than the image of the stitches coming out of the wound. It’s starting to make him feel nauseous all over again.

“I’m sorry, I’d give you one of your pain meds but I don’t have any on me. Tony probably does though.”

Peter shakily nods. “Yeah, he does… I got one from him earlier,” he says, wincing when he feels another tug of a stitch. “I think it would make him suspicious if I asked for another one, right?”

Rhodey hums in thought. “It might… I can try to grab you some Advil, even if could help a little bit?” He offers.

“N-No… regular stuff doesn’t do anything… thanks though.” Peter says, managing a small, grateful smile.

It takes a few minutes of gentle tugging on Rhodey’s part before the stitches are out. Peter opens his eyes, only to see Rhodey threading the needle. Despite the fact that he had done his own stitches, only hours before, he’s still afraid of needles. Peter closes his eyes once again to escape the sight of the sharp metal tip, glimmering in the LED lighting of the bathroom.

“Alright, I’m going to start the stitches now, okay?”

Peter nods shakily. “Mhmm.”

“One… two…three.” Rhodey counts down again, which Peter is grateful for.

Rhodey has patched him up a few times before now and he always explains what he’s doing and he always gives Peter a warning before he starts poking him with sharp objects when necessary. Peter really appreciates that, given his history of usually passing out at the sight of a needle. He’s still surprised he was even able to manage it on his own last night, of course with Karen’s guidance… and WebMD.

Peter lets out a weak groan at the horrible, tugging sensation on the wound, squeezing his already closed eyes.

“I’m sorry I don’t have anything to numb the area with,” Rhodey says, offering Peter a sympathetic look. “I know this sucks but we’re almost done.”

All Peter can do is give him a shaky nod in response, afraid that he’ll throw up again if he opens his mouth.

The sudden knock on the door has both of their eyes widening, Rhodey pausing mid-stitch as he turns his head around to look at the door.

“Hey, Pete are you in here?” Tony’s voice comes from the other end.

Rhodey’s head snaps back to him, jerkily nodding his head for him to answer.

“Uh— yeah. Sorry, I’ll be out in just a sec!” Peter calls out, trying to keep his voice as still and normal sounding as possible.

“You okay?”

Rhodey’s eyes widen more, as does Peter’s.

“Yeah. Just, uh…” Peter pauses, hoping Rhodey will help him out but the man just jerks his head down at his hands that are currently holding the needle that’s half-way in Peter’s own skin. Peter swallows hard, shoving the sudden nausea down. “Pre-wedding jitters, I guess.”

Tony chuckles on the other end. “Happy should be the one with the jitters, kiddo. Why don’t you come on out here so we can have the photographer take some photos of us. And I have to find Rhodey. He was here just a minute ago...”

They hear Tony’s footsteps head back up the hallway until they fade, out of earshot.

Rhodey lets out a relieved breath. “That was close. Too close.”

“Yeah.” Peter agrees, letting out a shaky breath.

“We better finish this up and get you in your tux.” Rhodey says before he gets back to work.

…

By the time Rhodey bandages up Peter’s wound and Peter get’s changed into his tux—thankfully all on his own, except for the tie, which Rhodey helped him with—Peter steps out of the bathroom and heads down the hallway to the main room, finding Tony, Happy and Rick all standing at the center island in the kitchen, laughing about something as a photographer snaps a few pictures of them.

“Hey, there he is,” Tony exclaims with a smile as Peter walks over, meeting him halfway and wraps an arm around his shoulder. “Feeling better?” Tony asks him softly, only for him to hear.

“Yeah, thanks.” Peter says with a nervous smile.

He hates lying, especially to Tony.

“That’s good. Have you seen Rhodey by the way?”

“Uh, yeah. I passed him on my way from the bathroom.”

As if on cue, Rhodey walks out from the hallway.

“So nice of you to join us, honey bear.” Tony says with a teasing smile.

Rhodey just chuckles in response as he joins the others at the center island.

“Now that everyone’s here, I’m just going to snap a few pictures and then we can head on upstairs.” The photographer announces as she sets her camera up on a tall tripod.

Which reminds Peter that he needs to grab his camera from his bag for the ceremony.

Tony lightly squeezes Peter’s arm as they both walk over to the center island. The last thing Peter wants is for his picture to be taken, especially with how pale he is right now, but he’s going to do it for May and Happy.

“Smile!” The photographer says, just before she snaps a photo, the white flash shining in Peter’s eyes.

…

When they’re all done taking pictures, Peter takes the rings from Happy—being the ring bearer—and heads upstairs to take some photos of May and her bridesmaids. The photographer already took the official pre-wedding photos but May and Happy wanted him to take some photos for them and Peter wanted to have a nice memory of the wedding for himself too.

Nerves pool in Peter’s stomach as he rides up in the elevator, but for the moment, they’re good nerves. The ceremony is going to start in the next half hour and he’s going to see May in her wedding dress, for the second time now, but it’s not in a wedding boutique this time. Today it’s the real deal.

Peter looks at his reflection in the golden elevator doors. He looks like crap, dark circles and pale skin, looking like he hasn’t slept for days, which is true but blood loss is probably more to blame. It’s going to have to do though.

As bad as he feels, he feels only a little better thanks to Rhodey’s help and medical skills. As awkward as it was of Rhodey seeing him in that state—shirtless, bleeding and passed out on the bathroom floor—he’s immensely grateful for the man’s help.

He really owes him one for that.

When the elevator comes to a stop with a soft ding, the doors slide open and Peter steps out into the hallway, heading towards May’s room. He knocks on the door and waits a moment, hearing movement on the other end before the door opens, revealing Pepper, who’s wearing a light lavender dress, the one May chose to match her bouquet.

“Well, Peter don’t you look handsome.” Pepper says with a smile, inviting him in.

Peter feels himself blush. “Thanks you look nice too.” He says, smiling.

“Your aunt is just finishing up with last minute details for her makeup. She told me you can go on in when you get here.” Pepper tells him.

“Okay, thanks.” Peter says before he starts to head over to the stairs leading up to the bedroom.

Peter walks past the living room, seeing two of May’s bridesmaids, who are friends of her’s from college, Grace and Maggie.

“Hey, Peter!” Grace calls over to him when she sees him heading up the stairs.

“Hi.” Peter greets back, offering her a polite smile.

As he climbs the stains, Peter feels the stitches pull slightly in his side, causing him to wince, reaching a hand up to gently grab his side. Maybe he should have just sucked it up and asked Tony for another one of his pain meds.

When he reaches the top, he lets out a shaky breath he didn’t know he was holding before he knocks on the door, feeling his stomach tighten a little with nerves. “It’s Peter.” Peter says, so May doesn’t panic thinking he’s Happy.

“Come on in, honey!” May calls from the other side.

Peter adjusts his camera strap on his shoulder as he grabs the doorknob and opens the door. He steps inside, only to have the air knocked out of his chest at the sight he’s met with.

May is standing in the center of the room in her wedding dress, a simple, yet elegant silhouette a-line dress with a bit of flare at the bottom. She’s wearing her hair up in a pretty up-do bun with her vail and a thin pearl headband to keep it in place. But it’s not the dress that Peter is looking at. It’s the way May is smiling, absolutely glowing head to toe, looking the happiest Peter thinks he’s ever seen her in his entire life.

Peter feels his throat tighten as his eyes fill up a little bit with tears. “W-Wow… May… you look,” Peter swallows thickly, wetly smiling. “…really beautiful.”

May’s smile widens and from here, he can see a few tears in here eyes as well. “Well you don’t look too bad yourself.” She says.

Peter smiles as he steps over to her. “How are you feeling?” He asks her, knowing very well how nervous she’s been leading up to this day.

May lets out a sigh, still smiling. “I feel really good. Nervous… but good,” She says as she reaches up and cups his face. “And that’s all thanks to you, Peter. You’ve helped me so much these past few months and with everything going on with you, and with us moving… it’s been a lot for you. I just want you to know how much I love and appreciate you.” She says before pulling him in for a hug.

Peter feels more tears build up in his eyes, as well as a warmth fill in his chest. “I love you too.” He tells her.

May gently squeezes him before she laughs lightly, pulling away. “Okay, okay! No more crying! I’m going to ruin my makeup.”

Peter laughs at that as he wipes away his own tears. But they’re not sad—they’re tears of happiness.

“Why don’t we go downstairs and you can take a few pictures of us all before you meet up with the groomsmen?” She says with a smile.

“Sounds good.”

…

Thirty minutes later, Peter finds himself heading up in the elevator with Happy, Tony, Rick, and Rhodey. Peter is already exhausted and ready to sit down from everything going on and so quickly, and they haven’t even gotten to the ceremony yet. His side is throbbing terribly as pain radiates up and down his side. And not to mention he feels even more nauseous now, although, that could possibly be from nerves?

“How’re you feeling, Hap?” Tony asks, nudging Happy’s arm.

Happy chuckles, smiling. “I’m feeling good.”

“Man, I still can’t believe our boy’s getting married.” Rick says, earning a few chuckles from the three men.

“A match made in heaven, if I do say so myself.” Tony says, grinning.

“Yeah, Mr. Matchmaker over here,” Rhodey says with a laugh, nudging Tony’s arm with his elbow.

Happy shrugs. “It’s true. He kept sending me to pick Peter up for his internship and after a while of seeing May… things sort of happened and the rest is history, I guess,” He says with a smile, only to look over at Peter. “And of course, I also have you to thank for that, Pete.” He adds.

Peter smiles at that from his spot leaning up against the elevator wall. He tunes them out for a moment as he looks up at the ceiling, squinting against the golden lights, feeling lightheaded from the upwards motion, feeling like all of the blood is rushing up to his head. He grips the railing when the elevator stops moving once they reach the top floor, the doors sliding open with a ding.

He catches Rhodey worriedly glance at him, just like the few times before, as he steps off the elevator. Peter stays there as everyone gets out before he pushes off the wall and forces his legs to move, following behind the group. With every heavy step he takes, he feels the nausea and pain growing, causing him to feel even more dragged down with exhaustion.

Do it for May and Happy. Do it for May and Happy. Do it for May and Happy. Peter repeats in his head.

When they get to the room at the end of the hallway, they step into a large, elegant, glass ballroom that’s decorated with beautiful flowers, just like May’s bouquet. Every round table has a beautiful arrangement of flowers as well, with candles, plates and crystal glasses.

Peter follows behind as they head out to the large balcony overlooking the city skyline. The alter is all set up across the large space, along with rows of chairs, already filled with people.

“How are you holding up?” Rhodey quietly asks, slowing his pace down to walk next to Peter as they walk down the aisle.

Peter sighs. “Shitty but I’ve had worse.”

Rhodey hums, his brows pulling together in worry as he glances over at Tony, who’s further up ahead and out of earshot. “I hate hiding this from Tony, especially something as serious as this is. When the ceremony is over you’re going to get that looked at.”

Peter lets out another sigh. He knows Rhodey is right and there’s honestly no point in hiding the fact that he’s anymore once the ceremony is over. “Only Tony and Bruce will know. It’s May and Happy’s day to celebrate. I don’t want to ruin it for them.”

“We’ll figure that part out later. If you don’t feel good when we’re up there let me know, okay?”

“Okay.” Peter says, nodding.

They stop at the alter and get in formation as Happy stands under the arch, talking to the officiant with Tony. Tony, being the Best Man, stands behind Happy, followed by Peter, Rhodey, and then Rick on the end.

More guests file in as the minutes pass, filling the room with talking and laughter. It’s now even more hot and loud than before, making it slightly overwhelming for Peter.

He lets out a shaky breath as he feels for the small box containing May and Happy’s wedding bands in the pocket of his pants—probably the eighth time in the past ten minutes—grateful to feel it. He’s been worried about this all week but thankfully, everything is going smoothly today… mostly everything besides him being injured and all.

His wound throbs at the thought of it, causing Peter to wince, unconsciously reaching a hand up to his side. He catches Rhodey shoot him a concerned look in the corner of his eye, causing Peter to quickly drop his hand.

They stand there for a few more moments, hearing the band warming up their instruments as the room is still full of people talking. Happy stepped off the the side a few moments ago and is talking to someone in the first row, laughing at something.

All in a split second, Peter feels the nausea violently bubble up in his stomach, feeling something warm creeping up his throat.

Oh no… not now ! Peter thinks, his eyes widening in panic.

He bites his bottom lip as his eyes dart around, looking for an exit. His eyes spot a side door about a hundred feet away from him through the crowd of people standing around.

Peter glances at Tony and Rhodey, who are both talking to Happy. He steps away as casually as he can and makes a beeline to the door, navigating around all of the people, trying to play it as cool as he can as warm saliva fills his mouth.

When he pushes open the door, he sharply turns and his eyes scan the hallway for a bathroom as he briskly walks down the hallway. His eyes land on a bathroom sign and he runs to it, practically throwing himself at the door, half-falling inside on the shiny, polished tiled flooring with his fancy dress shoes as he rushes over to one of the stalls.

Peter closes the stall door behind himself before he falls to his knees in front of the toilet, just as something thick races up his throat. Peter squeezes his eyes shut as he gags into the toilet, thowing up the contents of his stomach, which isn’t anything at all since he only had a few crackers as a snack earlier. He hasn’t been hungry all day since breakfast, which probably isn’t a good sign.

The mere thought of food causes Peter to heave again, sending more vomit into the toilet. A white, hot stab of pain comes from the wound on his side, causing Peter to cry out, doubling over the toilet. He rests his elbows on the toilet as he gasps, waiting and praying for the pain to pass.

Peter lets out a weak, shaky groan as he sits there, resting his forehead in his elbow. He’s been stabbed before… but nothing like this. Maybe that’s because Tony’s always found out through his suit’s protocols that alert him to that kind of stuff but Peter disabled it months ago with Ned’s help (again), although he warned Peter he didn’t think it was a good idea.

And how right Ned was.

Peter is actually starting to regret disabling them now.

Another wave of nausea washes over him and Peter groans, dunking his head back into the toilet, throwing up whatever is left in him. More pain sears through his side from all of the movement and strain on his stomach muscles, feeling the stitches sharply pull in his skin.

Peter cries out again from the horrible pain, feeling tears sliding down his cheeks.

He wants Tony to walk through that door more than anything and help him get through this because Peter is an absolute self-sacrificing idiot who can’t go to anyone for help when he needs it with his guilt complex. He knows he’s screwed up badly this time. He just hopes he can get through this.

Peter sits there for a few long minutes, letting the tears slip down his cheeks as his side throbs away, the pain not letting up. He wonders if he ripped the stitches again with how bad the pain is but there’s nothing he can do about it now.

The sudden, loud sound of an organ playing has Peter gasping. Without thinking twice, he jumps to his feet, doubling over at the blinding pain he’s met with as he does, feeling the stitches pull again as he flushes the toilet and opens the stall door, running over to the sink. He’s taken aback by his reflection and how absolutely terrible he looks. His skin is pasty white and his eyes are bloodshot, both from crying and puking. He shakes his head as he quickly washes his hands and splashes his face with cold water, dropping his head under the tap for water and gargles it to rid his mouth of the puke taste.

Peter doesn’t bother to look at his hair or fix his tie as he runs to the bathroom door and swings it open, making a mad-dash back to the ballroom. The music has stopped and he really hopes he hasn’t missed the entire thing. He pushes the door open and nearly trips rushing inside, his eyes darting around, only to find a bunch of eyes on him. Peter straightens up and nervously smiles as he walks towards the alter, grateful not to find May already standing up there with Happy.

The officiant, Happy, Tony, Rhodey, and Rick are all looking at him with a mixture of confused and concerned looks as he walks up the stairs and stands in the middle of Tony and Rhodey.

“You okay? You were gone for a long time. I almost left to go find you.” Tony whispers to him.

Peter wants to tell him the truth.

He honestly does.

“Oh yeah. Uh… nervous bladder?” Peter lies instead, knowing how absolutely lame that sounds.

Tony raises an eyebrow at him and opens his mouth to say something, only for the organ to start back up . The guests all stand up and turns towards the door at the end of the aisle, only to see the doors open, revealing Morgan as she walks through with her pretty pink dress on and a white basket in her hands as she starts to throw white rose petals on the carpeted aisle as she slowly makes her way towards them, perfectly in step with the music, just as Peter helped her practice. Quite a few people in the crowd let out ‘ awwees ’ at the sight of her and the photographer kneels down at the end of the aisle and takes a few pictures of her.

Despite how absolutely shitty he feels, Peter smiles at the sight of Morgan, feeling so proud of her. She was so nervous about being the flower girl today, but she’s doing an amazing job at it.

Next comes the bridesmaids in their lavender dresses, Pepper leading them as they walk down behind Morgan, all with their small bouquets in hand.

“My beautiful girls.” Tony says, his voice full of love and pride as he watches Pepper and Morgan with a proud and loving smile.

The bridesmaids all walk up the stairs on the other side of the alter and form a line like them.

‘Here Comes the Bride’ starts to play on the organ and a few moments pass before Peter sees May step through the doors, feeling a lump form in his throat at the sight of her. Her vail is down over her face as she starts to make her way down the aisle, her large, beautiful bouquet in her hands.

She looks absolutely beautiful .

Peter glances over at Happy, seeing that he is smiling with tears in his eyes at the sight of her. Peter smiles as he looks back at May as she walks closer to them, seeing the photographer snapping a few photos of her out of the corner of his eye.

He can’t wait to see those pictures.

When May is at the alter, Happy goes down the three stairs and extends a hand to her and she takes it as she walks up, smiling up at him. May looks over Peter, smiling brightly as she winks, causing him to smile wider in return at her. She looks away as she hands Pepper her bouquet before she stands and faces Happy in front of the officiant, who raises her hands, silencing the music.

“We are gathered here today, to witness the sacred union of Harold Hogan and Maybelle Parker. We stand here to honor and celebrate the love shared between these two people, as they come together to start their new life with a solemn vow, surrounded by their closest family and friends,” The officiant says, continuing on about a couple being in love, but as she talks, her voice grows distant against the ringing forming in Peter’s ears.

The ringing is dull at first before it starts to slowly increase, making it impossible for him to understand what she’s saying as her words become muffled. He starts to inwardly panic as his ears slowly start to go out on him, as the all-too familiar lightheadedness washes over him and hard.

It’s so sudden Peter feels himself take a tiny step back to balance himself, but he doesn’t think anyone noticed because they’re too consumed with the wedding officiant and whatever she’s saying now.

Peter blinks, trying to strain his ears to hear and to ignore the increasing lightheaded feeling as he stands there. He reaches up and tugs at his bow tie, feeling himself sweating like crazy under his thick tuxedo jacket and white dress shirt.

He stands there for several moments, glancing at Tony and May’s faces for any emotion for a hint at to what’s being said, until black dots start to dance around in his vision, making it increasingly harder to see, feeling a tingling coldness wash over his neck and down his back.

His body is now staring to shut down and fail him right now.

And Peter has had these symptoms enough times in his life to know what comes next.

He’s going to pass out.

Peter gulps as he rapidly blinks, willing himself to stay awake. He even pinches his thigh in hopes that it’ll help.

Don’t pass out. Don’t pass out. Don’t pass out. Don’t pass out. Not here —not now! Peter yells at himself in his head.

His ears clear up a tiny bit as he sees the wedding officiant look his way, as well as Tony, May and Happy, smiling down at him.

“May I have the rings?” The wedding officiant says, her voice sounding so close, yet so far.

That’s the last thing Peter knows before he feels himself falling to the side, slamming into the alter stairs on his way down, hearing loud surprised gasps. His side explodes with pain—the worst pain he’s ever been in his entire life.

“Oh my God! Is-Is that blood?” He’s distantly aware of Rick crying out.

Peter blacks out and falls into a painless darkness, aware of no more.

…

Consciousness slowly flows back to him in waves, first sound, hearing a faint beeping from somewhere. Feeling comes back to him, allowing him to slowly start to move his fingers, feeling a soft fabric under the sensitive tips of his fingers. He can tell that he’s lying down on something soft but other than that… he feels heavy and numb. Peter struggles to blink his eyes open at first but he manages to crack them open after a few tries, only to find himself in a familiar, dimly lit room.

His brows pull together in a frown as he heavily blinks, his eyes roaming over the room as his brain has a hard time piecing things together. He recognizes this room to be one of the rooms in the medbay at the Compound.

But… why is he here?

Something shifts on his right, causing Peter to slowly roll his head to the side, struggling with even that simple task, only to see Tony sitting in a chair next to his bed.

Peter opens his mouth, only for no words to come out. He frowns and closes his heavy eyes, licking his lips as he opens his eyes again.

“T’ny?” He croaks out.

Tony’s head snaps up from his phone and they make eye contact, seeing the instant relief that washes over the man’s face.

“Hey there, bud,” Tony greets softly as he sits up and moves closer to him. “How are you feeling?”

Peter slowly blinks, licking his dry lips again. “Really tired.” He manages to say.

Tony hums at the back of his throat as he reaches forward and brushes a stray curl from Peter’s forehead. “Yeah, you’re just feeling all the meds Bruce gave you to help with the pain,” he tells him, pausing for a few moments. “Do you remember what happened?”

Peter frowns, trying to think back to how he screwed up this time to wind up in the medbay but his brain is moving too slow. He manages to shake his head.

Tony sighs as he looks down at the blanket covering Peter, seeming to look for the right words to say. “Well… we were up at the alter and I had my back turned to you… you were supposed to give the rings to Happy but when I turned around, you were as white as a sheet and then… you just dropped.”

Alter? What alter? Peter thinks to himself with a frown.

“You don’t remember that?” Tony asks.

“No?” Peter says with a frown, coming out more like a question in hopes Tony will explain why he was at an alter.

That just sounds weird and… concerning, to say the least.

“You fainted and… you did hit your head on the way down. Bruce said it’s completely normal if you can’t remember what happened,” Tony explains calmly to him. “Do you remember the wedding?”

“The wedding?” Peter questions, frowning.

That’s all it takes for his brain to come back online, all at once.

Peter’s eyes widen. “Oh my God— May and Happy’s wedding!” He exclaims as he jumps up, causing Tony’s eyes to widen as he shoots up from the chair and carefully pushes him back down to the bed.

The movement causes a dull stab of pain in both his side and his head. Peter closes his eyes with a small hiss of pain.

“Sorry, kiddo. Try not to move around too much. You have quite the concussion there, which explains any memory loss you’re experiencing.” Tony says in a sympathetic tone.

Peter opens his eyes and looks at him, his stomach dropping. “I ruined the wedding, didn’t I?”

Tony frowns, shaking his head. “No, Pete you didn’t ruin-“

“I-I did. I ruined the whole thing.”

“Peter. You did not ruin May and Happy’s wedding.”

“Did they still get married?” Peter asks.

Tony just stares at him for a few, too long seconds.

“Please tell me they got married.”

Tony lets out a sigh, his shoulders dropping as he looks at him. “They didn’t… I’m sorry, Pete.”

Peter just looks at Tony, feeling his stomach drop as a lump forms in his throat. “T-They didn’t?”

“I’m sorry, Peter. When you were passed out… we all were so worried about you. Your head and your side were bleeding so much and May—she was so worried. May and Happy agreed that they couldn’t go through with it if you weren’t there.”

Peter swallows thickly and blinks, looking away from him as fresh tears slide down his cheeks.

His worst fear had come true.

He ruined May and Happy’s big day.

All because he kept the fact that he was injured a secret. It wouldn’t have made a difference if he had told them. They would have probably still called it off anyways.

Peter squeezes his eyes shut, feeling more tears slide down his cheeks.

“Oh, Pete, don’t cry, kiddo.” Tony softly says.

Peter hears the chair legs squeak against the floor as Tony stands up, feeling the bed dip next to him before warm arms are being carefully wrapped around him.

“I-I’m so horrible,” Peter sobs out. “I-I ruined w-what was s-supposed to b-be t-the h-happiest day of their l-life.”

“Peter, no you didn’t.”

“I did!” He sobs out.

Peter cries, ignoring the way his entire body protests against it because he doesn’t care. He cries against Tony’s chest, feeling his hand rubbing soothing circles on his back. But he didn’t deserve comfort.

He’s a wedding crasher— literally.

When Peter’s tears run out, he’s left with a massive headache, feeling a lot worse than when he’d woken up earlier.

“I-I’m sorry…” Peter says, sniffing. “I-I s-should have told you I was hurt. N-None of this would have happened.”

Tony lets out a sigh. “Yes, you should have told me. But that doesn’t mean this is your fault because it’s not. Sometimes things happen and plans change. It’s okay.”

It’s not okay.

It’s far from okay.

“Tell you what, May and Happy have been waiting to see you. They can fill you in then, okay?” Tony says.

Peter doesn’t answer him as he just lays there. Why would they want to see him after all of this?

“Hey, Friday? Can you please let May and Happy know that Peter’s up?” Tony says.

“Certainly.”

It takes only a matter of five minutes before May and Happy rush downstairs, dressed in casual clothes.

“Oh, baby,” May says in relief as she walks over to Peter on the other side of the bed and gently wraps her arms around him in a hug.

Fresh tears slide down Peter’s checks.

“I’m so sorry I ruined everything.” Peter tearfully says as he wraps his arms around her.

“Oh, honey. You didn’t ruin anything. It’s not your fault what happened.”

“Yeah, Pete.” Happy chips in.

“I’m sure Tony explained what happened?” May asks as she pulls back.

Peter silently nods.

“Well, we just couldn’t get married without you there to celebrate with us, so we were able to get the venue to reschedule the ceremony for us because of what happened.” May tells him.

Peter sniffs wetly. “Y-You… you did? But how? It’s one of the most popular hotels in the city.”

“And I’m Tony Stark. Also known as Iron Man. Remember him?” Tony says with a grin. “I may have pulled a few cards and got them to reschedule the whole thing.”

It does help him feel a little better, but not completely. That means that all of the food was wasted, as well as the flowers and not to mention the wedding cake , and a everything else. And everyone has to get re-invited and dressed up, especially May in her wedding dress.

It’s a huge mess, all thanks to him.

“B-But everything’s ruined now. The cake, the food, the flowers…”

“Already paid for and the baker saved the cake in the hotel’s freezer. And we decided that we’re not inviting as many people. It’ll be a small wedding, just us and a few friends. Simple and easy.”

“But… that’s not fair for you guys.”

“ Peter ,” May says as she reaches forward and cups his face in her hand. “You are the most important person in my life. I couldn’t go through with getting married without you there. And I want things to be more simple and easy this time around. Easy on all of us and you. Happy and I are very happy with everything. Once you’re better and all healed up, we’ll just pick a date and go from there.”

“What about your honeymoon?”

“I’m sure you’ll be on your feet soon enough. Don’t you worry about that now.” Happy tells him with a reassuring smile.

“And speaking of…” May says before her face changes into a stern look. “Why would you ever hide the fact that you were stabbed from us? Do you realize how stupid , careless and dangerous that is to yourself, Peter?”

Peter sighs, looking down. “I know… but I thought that you wouldn’t get married if you found out because you’d be so worried. I’m sorry.”

“Pete, stab wounds are nothing to hide from anyone. You could have died .” Happy tells him.

May carefully takes Peter’s hands in his, mindful of the IV in his right hand. “Please, please promise me you won’t do anything like that ever again. You scared me half to death, you know.”

“I’m sorry,” he says guiltily. “I promise.”

“Good.” May says as she lets out a relieved breath.

“Do you know why I passed out, besides the whole… bleeding out part?” Peter asks, looking at Tony.

“Well, Bruce said that you ripped a few of your stitches and that wound was one of the worst infected one’s he’s ever seen. You fell and hit your head pretty good on the stairs.”

“There was a lot of blood.” Happy adds.

May closes her eyes, shaking her head.

“Well, if it makes you feel just a little bit better, Rick passed out too.” Tony says.

Peter’s eyes snap over to him. “He did? How?”

“Well… Rick has a bit of a blood phobia and he saw your head bleeding and… well… he just passed out. Thankfully not as dramatic as you did, but still.” Happy says.

It doesn’t make him feel better.

It makes him feel even worse.

“Is he okay though?”

“Oh yeah, he’s fine. Just a small bump but he was more worried about you after he came to.”

“Tell him sorry for me, please.” Peter says guiltily.

“I will.”

Peter lets out a sigh as he drops his head back against the pillow behind his head, feeling his eyes growing heavy.

This is a lot to take in.

“Well, you look exhausted, honey. Why don’t you try to get some more sleep? We don’t want you to worry about a thing, alright? Just rest. I hope you feel better.” May tells him as she reaches forward and presses a kiss against his forehead.

“Okay.” Peter easily agrees.

Sleep sounds really good right about now.

“But don’t think you’re in the clear. You’re still grounded for hiding a stab wound from us.” She says as she stands up, pointing a finger at him.

Peter shrinks down slightly in the mattress at that.

“Feel better, Pete.” Happy says with a soft smile.

“Thanks.” Peter says with a small, tired smile.

When they both step out of the room, Tony lets out a sigh from bedside him, causing Peter to look over at him.

“Well I’ve heard of running of the bride’s before… but never fainting of the groomsmen.” Tony jokes.

Peter lets out a groan and drops his head against the pillows. “Too soon.” He says, only to earn a chuckle from Tony.

…

In the end, Peter’s head injury and stab wound heal a few days later all thanks to Dr. Banner, not completely but just enough to be able to have the wedding a few days away from the day May and Happy are scheduled leave for their honeymoon.

The wedding was beautiful, just with less people. If it’s even possible, May looked even prettier than the first time around as she walked down the aisle for a second time. Peter thankfully remained conscious during the whole thing and passed the rings to the wedding officiant instead of passing out.

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