A/N: this photo rlly gets me in the feels idk y.

Peter got out of bed two days later, claiming of being bored and sore from laying around all day. But really, Natasha just threatened to kick his ass and give him a reason for staying in bed.

  If Peter was being honest, he didn't mind being bedridden. It was a free pass to not have to worry, to let everyone else take all your responsibilities. It was a good reason to be lazy and to forget.

  To forget the building.

  The pain.

  The guilt.

  Spider-man.

  "Get up, Peter," Natasha snapped, using her good hand to rip the covers from the boy's body. Peter yelped, the cold nipping at his sensitive spider skin like fangs. He curled in on himself defensively.

  "Peter," Nat said again sternly. "Get out of bed. It's been more then a week."

  Peter moaned into his pillow. "But I'm still hurt, Nat," he whined. Nat just rolled her eyes. She knew better. She knew Peter was healed because of his powers, knew that he'd been healed for a few days now actually. Peter just didn't want to come back to the real world where he wasn't being swaddled and babied every second of everyday.

  The assassin smacked the teen upside the head, causing him to squeal. "My concussion!" He exclaimed.

  "Get out of bed before i give you a good reason to stay there," Natasha hissed. "You've already lost your fitness, if you lay around anymore, your muscles will start to break down."

  "So what?" Peter grumbled, finally sitting up on the bed.

  "So, if your muscles break down, patrol will be painful, if not impossible. Queens doesn't need a weak superhero protecting it," Nat said matter-of-factly. She grabbed her crutch that was leaning against the night stand and supported herself on it. She glanced at Peter.

  "Let's go."

"Where?"

Nat sucked in a breath and pushed off her good foot. She didn't look back as she hobbled out of the tiny hospital room, just assumed Peter was right behind her.

  Peter huffed and pulled himself off the bed. His legs ached and struggled to support him as he hurried to keep up with the assassin.

By the time the pair reached the kitchen, Peter was panting like he'd just run a marathon, not speed-walked across the Tower. Nat gave him a pointed look.

"What?" The teen snapped.

Nat shrugged and grabbed a fruit from the basket on the island. "You're very out of shape."

Peter looked at her sideways and opened his mouth to stay something before he was cut off.

"He's allowed to be out of shape after he held up a building," Tony said, waltzing into the room in all his self-made glory.

"Hey, i held up that building too," Nat said with a roll of her blue eyes. "He's not special."

Peter made an indignant noise and moved closer to the billionaire. "You think I'm special, right, Tony?"

  Natasha raised her eyebrows. "Tony, huh? What happened to d-?"

  Tony shushed her violently and slung his arm over Peter's scrawny shoulders. "Yes," He said, making a point to give Peter his undivided attention. "You are special. Now, since it's your official first day of rehabilitation, whatcha say we start it off with a bang?"

  "A bang?" Peter repeated tiredly. Gosh, that speed-walk across the Tower had drained him more than he'd originally thought.

  "Yeah!" Tony said enthusiastically.

  Peter scratched the back of his neck self consciously. "I don't know...," he mumbled. "I've missed a ton of school and i was thinking about trying to get caught up with that? Or at least go for a run with Ms. Natasha. She is right-i am out of shape."

  Tony tried not to look too crestfallen as all his plans were spontaneously thrown out the window. "Okay, yeah sure, kid," he said, keeping the smile from slipping from his face. "Whatever you want. Don't go too hard on him now, Nat. He did break his back, after all."

  Nat chuckled, tossing the core of her fruit in the trash can. "That doesn't mean he broke his legs. But yes, of course I'll take good care of your spider-baby."

  Tony nodded and started out of the room just as quickly as he'd come, Peter's objections to the new nickname getting fainter the more space he put between them. His thoughts ran almost as fast as his feet.

  Was i being too over-bearing?

  Does he like Natasha better now? Did they bond over their shared trauma or something?

  Or...

  Did he remember everything, after all?