Work Text:
Peter had expected a quiet night of studying so he was surprised to hear tapping at his bedroom window. Surprised but not shocked. Plenty of his friends visited him via the window. Daredevil, Deadpool, the Human Torch. He parted the curtains and saw it was the latter hero peering back at him. But when he opened the window, Johnny didn’t climb through it with his usual grace. Johnny stumbled over the ledge and fell down.
The right side of his face was covered in blood. Fear slammed through Peter’s chest, banging into the bones. Johnny was hurt.
“Johnny! Oh my God, Johnny—”
“I’m okay,” Johnny mumbled. He was conscious but Peter didn’t trust the way he slumped over slurring his words.
“Oh, crap. Okay. Let me look at you.”
Johnny happily sat on the bed as Peter examined him.“Okay, you’ve hit your head. It’s not a big cut but I need to put something on it. I’m going to disinfect the wound and — and staunch the blood flow. And put some bandages on. Then, I’m calling Dr. Richards and he can come and help you, okay?”
“Okay,” Johnny chirped. He was perched on the end of the bed like a little kid. Calmly letting Peter wind bandages around his head. Johnny’s beautiful blond hair was streaked with blood. A tiny bit of blood sluggishly dribbled down his face but the blood must be clotting. Peter could feel his own hands were shaking but he needed to remain calm. Be a little less Peter Parker and a little more Spider-Man. Panicking wouldn’t help.
He hoped Johnny wasn’t concussed. Probably should speak to him, make sure that he knows where he is. “Do you know what day it is? And where you are? Do you know my name?”
“It’s Monday,” Johnny said easily. “And I’m in your tiny apartment. And your name is Peter Parker.”
“Okay,” Peter breathed. “That’s good.”
Dr. Richards was concerned but grateful when Peter called him. He thanked him for taking care of Johnny and said he’d be there, ASAP, to come and collect him. He’d take some tests and give Johnny the care he needed to ensure a full recovery. Peter gave him the address and ended the call.
Johnny was fine. He was going to be okay.
He’d initially panicked, seeing the blood on his face. But Johnny was sitting up, awake, making conversation. Peter set his phone down on the nightstand and joined Johnny by the bed.
“Dr. Richards is heading over. He’s going to help you.”
“Thanks, Peter,” Johnny sighed. “You always know what to do.”
“How did this happen?”
“I was out there. Flying. I tried to land on a rooftop but misjudged the distance.”
“You didn’t fall and land on your head?” Peter said, horrified.”
“No, dummy! That would have killed me! No, I landed on the roof but I tripped and went head over heels. It was so embarrassing, Webs, I’m glad that cocky shutterbug Peter Parker wasn’t around to photograph me—”
If Johnny was well enough to make jokes, he must be feeling better. Peter sighed in relief and resisted the urge to pull Johnny into a big hug. “Hey. I’m glad you’re okay.”
Johnny knocked his shoulder against Peter’s. “I’m always okay when I’ve got you. Thanks for taking care of me, Webs.”