(i hope this is okay dear!! @redheadliner)
Peter’s got the call when he’d been in the middle of a fight, and after he listened to the voicemail the first place he went was the hospital. He called Aunt May when he’d gotten there, putting on a hoodie and track pants over his suit -- his hands shaking as he held the phone. She told him it was okay, she loved him, and she’d be on her way shortly. Peter hasn’t been in a hospital since... well, since Uncle Ben, and he’s absolutely terrified the moment he steps inside. He’s got bruises forming on his arms, but that isn’t anything new -- it’s the cut on his upper lip he’s doing his best to hide, zipping up his hoodie all the way to make sure no one gets a glimpse of the red and blue underneath it. Peter doesn’t need anyone to know his alter ego when he steps into the hospital, not when his mind is racing with worries and thoughts -- seemingly out of control as he makes his way over to the nurses’s station. “I’m here for --” Peter pauses, his throat tight as he tries to swallow the lump in his throat, “I’m here for Mary Jane Watson?” he announces as the women gets a soft, sympathetic look on her features now. She promises Peter they’ll call him as soon as she’s out of surgery, though she won’t even tell Peter what she’s in surgery for, or what even happened. She can only tell that to immediate family, and Peter could have been that if he’d gotten it over with and proposed to her already. The ring’s been burning a hole in his pockets for weeks, and Peter knows -- he knows they’re young, finishing up their last year of college, but he just knows what he wants. And what he wants is a life with MJ. If she’ll even say yes, Peter’s not sure she will. He just wants to make sure she’s okay, his hands still shaking as he sits in the waiting room, hands in the pocket of his jacket and trying to remind himself to breathe. Every night he’s out in Queen’s, swinging around and saving people -- but he couldn’t be there for MJ, he thinks to himself. It’s hours until anyone comes to tell him he can see her, and Peter almost sighs with relief as he steps into her room. He leans over, pressing a careful, gentle kiss to her hair and murmuring a soft, “I love you,” before he sits down in the chair next to her bed. He’s not supposed to stay until after visiting hours are over, but the nurses make no effort to get him to leave, instead leaving a tea beside MJ’s bed for him after he’d fallen asleep awkwardly in the chair, hood pulled up over his head to try and keep himself warm in the cold hospital room. He wakes up sometime in the middle of night to see MJ’s eyes slowly opening, Peter sitting up carefully, not wanting to startle her as he carefully reaches for her hand -- gripping it lightly. “Hi, babe,” he says softly, his voice rough with what little sleep he’d gotten, “how are you feeling?”
