Summary: After Peter comes to you injured again, it seems Peter only cares about the safety of everyone, never himself and you're sick of it
Warnings: Angst, blood, mentions of injuries (the usual), some fluff

There's a tapping at your window leading out to the balcony while you're asleep in your bed. The tapping starts off quiet, a tap here and there but the tapping starts to get louder and quicker. It's persistent and starts to become annoying as you stir in your sleep, the tapping intruding on your dream until you finally wake up, the taps turning into knocks.

Your heart races as you realize someone is outside your window, but just as fast as the realization hit, the panic was gone. A burglar or kidnapper or something wouldn't be knocking to get inside. They'd have just broken the window so that leaves the one and only, Peter.

You turn on your lamp beside your bed, looking to the window where Peter is still knocking on the window, his head resting against the glass. You roll your eyes but get out of bed anyway and walk over to the balcony, tapping the window to get his attention, startling him from his trance. He leans up and allows you to open the window before he climbs inside, falling to the floor and grabbing his side.

"Ow." He mumbles.

"Um...are you okay?" You ask, looking down at him, assuming it's just Peter being Peter.

"Y-yeah, all good." He grunts, sitting back up but his face is still contorted in pain and then you know this is not a Peter clumsy thing, but a Peter Spider-Man thing which maybe you should have guessed by the spider suit still covering his body and tints of blues on his face.

"What happened?" You ask, crouching down to his level, getting a good look at his face where a few cuts and bruises are scattered.

"Ya know, bad guys trying to rob a bank and stuff." Peter says, trying to give you a reassuring smile.

This happens all the time, more than either of you would like to admit. Peter goes out, bes Spider-Man, gets hurt, comes to you, and you bandage him up. It's not that it's annoying or anything, you signed up for this when Peter told you he was Spider-Man and you decided to be with him anyway. But, the whole watching him constantly put himself in danger and be injured thing, is less than fun. It's actually pretty painful for you to watch but you love him, so you've just dealt with it.

"C'mon, let's get you to the bathroom." You stand up, sticking a hand out for Peter so you can help him into the bathroom.

You help Peter put his arm around your shoulders while you help him to the bathroom, Peter limping and wincing all the way. While you grab medical supplies you've learned to keep on hand, Peter starts taking his suit off, struggling with every movement. He eventually gets it off and sits on the closed toilet seat, taking a look at his side where there are two stab wounds and too many bruises to count.

You chew your lips looking over him and yes, you feel bad for him. He's injured and that always sucks. You never want to see someone you love get hurt. However, it almost, just almost irritates you because the more you actually see this, the more it's like you didn't sign up to be kneeling on your bathroom floor, cleaning stab wounds. It's not like you ever said no either, but who else would do it?

He can't go to a doctor like a normal person and you can't let him go to May because then she'll worry about him more than she already does. Ned could do it and with you both being there for Peter, maybe it would be fair to split to the burden of taking care of him. But, then you just think about how unfair it is to push it onto someone else. He's your boyfriend. Isn't this part of the deal?

So, you stay balanced between being irritated and heartbroken.

"A-are, are you okay?" Peter asks, watching your face contort while you finish cleaning the bood from his side.

"Yeah, why?" You look up to him, mouth in a straight line, eyes almost dead as you look back to the cuts, not looking forward to giving him stitches. Butterfly stitches, sure those are easy. But, real stitches, not your thing since you don't have medical training. There just happens to be a YouTube tutorial for everything and someone has to do the stitches, right? Peter can't do them himself.

"You're just...quiet." Peter says, hesitance in his voice while he watches you prepare the thread.

"It's late." You keep the response short as you get the thread through the needle. "I was sleeping."

"You, uh, you normally have more to say?" Peter shrugs, knowing something's going on.

He can see it coming. It's not even a heightened senses thing. He just...knows. Every time he's come to you after he gets hurt, it's been different. Lately, you just seem off. He can tell it's getting to you but you never say anything. And maybe that's his fault for not asking sooner and maybe it's his fault for asking you to do this at all.

"Just tired." You say, giving him your phone so he can hold the flashlight, making sure you have some extra light. "Stay still."

Peter lets out a sigh as he pushes your hand away, not letting you start. "Can we talk...first?"

"You're still bleeding?" You question. "That's the point of giving you stitches now."

Peter shakes his head, grabbing a few gauze pads and putting them to his side, wincing in pain but he holds pressure. "It's fine." He assures with a very not assuring grimace.

You just blink at him as you shake your head. "Is the thought of bleeding out not even a concern?"

Pete groans. "I'm not gonna bleed out. I've had worse."

"Gee, that's reassuring." You roll your eyes and place the needle and thread on a gauze pad sitting on the counter before you move to your butt, pulling your knees to your chest. "What, Pete?" You sigh, knowing he won't let you finish until he says whatever he's gonna say.

"What's going on?" He asks, the grimace almost disappearing into one of worry. "Something's going on with you."

"It's nothing, Peter, okay?"

"It's something." Peter says quietly. "I know you."

You gesture your hands with a shrug. "I don't...I don't know what to tell you. It's good. We're good. It's fi--"

"It's not." Peter cuts you off, a little louder this time. "Would you just tell me--"

"I hate that you're Spider-Man and you come here all the time injured." You spit it out and it shocks the both of you, seemingly you more than even Peter.

You never intended to actually tell him. You were just gotta bottle it all up and hope for one day he'll quit. Deep down you know that would never happen but you could dream. Or at least, dream that he stops getting hurt. But, nevertheless, you were just gonna not say anything, not wanting to make him feel bad but here you are, just blurting it out.

"You-you hate that I'm Spider-Man?" Peter asks, the shock and hurt of your condor makes him loosen his grip on his side.

"I-I....I mean." You stumble for words trying to figure out how to explain all of it.

You don't hate that's he's Spider-Man. You hate that it gets him hurt. It's great he wants to help people. Too many people couldn't give a shit about other people, especially strangers. But Peter does. It's nice, it's warming, it's...hopeful. But it just costs so much for you and for him and anyone who gets close to him. It's not easy for any of you to see Peter hurt all of the time, even if a black eye only last a few hours and even if cuts only last a day and bigger wounds a week max and that's only if they're really bad like when he dealt with Doc Ock. He still gets hurt.

"No..." You finally say quietly, looking away from him. "I hate that you get hurt because of it. And you....you ask me to always help you and it's hard to see you like this."

It could be the blood loss or Peter just really not knowing how to respond but he's almost offended by it. He's hurt yes but he's also offended.

"I can't quit being Spider-Man." Peter says, almost snapping at you.

"I'm not saying you should." Your annoyance grows and it's evident in your voice. "I'm saying that it sucks seeing you hurt."

"But I can heal, y/n."

"Okay, so what happens when you can't?" You stand up, crossing your arms, eyes harsh as you stare a battered Peter down. "What happens when you get hurt so badly you can't heal from it? Huh? Ever thought of that?"

Peter meets your stance, standing up and ignoring the sharp pain in his side as he tosses his arms out. "What about everyone else!? They can't defend themselves! I'm saving them!"

"I don't care about everyone else! I care about you!" You yell right back, tossing your arms out with the shrug of your shoulders.

Peter stands there, chest almost heaving and he gets it. If it were you, he wouldn't want you out there getting hurt all the time either. But he would get it and he feels like you don't get it. This isn't something he asked for but he has these powers and he can help people who can't help themselves. He wouldn't be himself if he just gave that up. He can't sit back and let people die or get hurt when he could prevent it.

"I know." Peter says, lowering his voice. "But...I-I...I can't...I can't not do this." Peter's voice is remorseful and soft.

"I know." You nod and you do. You'd never ask him to stop but sometimes, you just need him to take your feelings into consideration when it comes to him getting hurt because this is just too much sometimes. "Watching you get hurt all the time....it's really hard. I care about you and I don't know...I don't know what I would do...if something happened." You look to the ground, swallowing back your own tears.

The room goes silent and neither of you really know what to say. It's almost like you're at a stalemate. There's not really a compromise that can be made here. He'll be hurt being Spider-Man and you'll still have to see it. You can't ask him to give it up and he wouldn't anyway. So, what else is there? And it's like you've both reached that conclusion but neither of you want to say anything because what if you're both missing a solution? What if there is something? You said you accepted Spider-Man, so there has to be something, doesn't there?

After what feels like hours of just standing there, both of you holding back tears, you push his shoulder down, gesturing for him to sit down and you get to work on the stitches. With not knowing how to even approach the next part of the conversation, you felt you might as well just do the stitches before he loses anymore blood. And Peter just complies. He's at a loss and it hurts more than any stab wound could ever. You're his favorite person and he loves you more than anything. He doesn't want to lose you and he doesn't want to lose Spider-Man. He has to figure out a way to make it work.

"Um..." Peter starts as you finish the last of his stitches. "I-is there anything, ya know, that I can do to make it...easier?"

You sit back down on the bathroom floor after washing your hands as you chew your cheek. "I don't know." You let out a defeated sigh. "If you can think of anything, I'll listen though."

Peter nods. "What if-if for stuff like this..." Peter looks down at the stitches that aren't very good but are doing the job. "I go to the tower."

"You don't like going to the tower?" You raise a brow with suspicion.

Peter likes the Avengers and he enjoys whenever he gets to be around them and fight with them, all the stuff that comes along with it. But, when it comes to injuries, he isn't fond of going there. It's nothing personal with them, it's more of him thing. Even though he knows it's ridiculous, there's a part of him that feels, even after all this time of proving he can handle himself, he feels like if he goes there for stitches or anything, they'll start to think he can't handle the big stuff. It's ridiculous especally after Thanos and Mysterio and Doc Ock because he handled himself in all those situations and the old Avengers and new Avengers know he's capable but it's hard for him to ask for medical help.

"Yeah...but if it'll make this easier for you...I will." Peter offers. "Just come to you for small stuff, ya know, like small cuts not stab wounds and gunshots." Peter huffs, the faintest hint of a smile pulling at his lip. "It, uh, it doesn't, I know it doesn't help with me getting hurt all the time...and the worry you have...but....maybe it-it can help a little if you don't have to see it right after it happens?"

He has a point. Usually, once you've cleaned him up and he's in bed, you feel better. Sure, you still worry when he goes out the next time and everything, but you know he's healed by then and he's not covered in blood when he goes to bed. So, a lot of it, not all, but a lot of it is seeing all the blood and how hurt he really is after everything. So, maybe he has a good idea.

"We can ty that." You give him a small smile. "But, if it's anything like really big, ya know, hit by a train big, someone can still call me." You let out a half-laugh. "I think it'll help."

Peter smiles at you, finally feeling at ease. "Okay." Peter leans forward, lightly holding your head in the hand that isn't covered in blood as he kisses your forehead. "Thanks, uh, for always doing this though."

You shrug one shoulder, tilting your head to the side with a gin. "I do it because I love you."

Pete chuckles. "I love you, too."

"You better." You retort, grin still across your face before you get up and extend your hand to Peter. "C'mon, let's get the rest of you cleaned up and to bed."

"Mmm, yeah that sounds nice." Peter hums with a relieved smile, taking your hand in his.