"We have the east end cleared. Prisoners are secure."
Tony flew over the last of the prisoners, watching as Natasha herded them back towards their cells. "Yeah, we're just getting the rest of them back in now."
A prison riot wasn't a typical Tuesday morning mission but when the prisoners were bigger level bad guys than usual, it kind of took the Avengers notice.
"Tony, I need you down here." Rhodey sounded grim, waiting below on the ground and Tony quickly sped down to meet him.
"What is it? We miss someone?"
The other man shook his head, looking tense as he took his friend's shoulder in hand. "Tones, I'm going to tell you something and you'll want to freak out but you have to stay calm because it's under control and it's going to be fine."
Tony clenched his hands into fists, teeth grinding together as his anxiety skyrocketed in an instant. "You better explain that right now."
Rhodes sighed, hand dropping away. He knew that Tony would freak out no matter how he said it, there was no point in trying to be coy. "Peter was knocked down but he's-"
Tony didn't wait for him to finish. Peter was hurt, that's all he needed to know. He flew off, heart pounding as he raced to the kid, almost falling out of the sky when he saw him.
He was sprawled on the concrete, back propped up against Steve's chest as he knelt behind him. Steve was holding one of Peters shaking hands, the other cupped around Peters weak fingers, holding an oxygen mask to the boys face.
He looked dazed and pained, eyebrows pinched in discomfort as he dragged in wheezed breaths. Tony ran straight over, gathered Avengers turning his way but Peter spoke before he could even open his mouth.
"Mr Stark, I'm okay. I promise-"
Worry made Tony's voice rise, finger pointing to the kid as he practically yelled. "What happened? What did you do!?"
Rhodey was there beside him, hand on his arm again. "Nothing, Tony calm down, he's okay."
"He's not okay! Look at him!" Peters Spider-Man mask was off, clutched tightly in Natasha's hand where she knelt at Peters side, rubbing his knee in comfort. Without his mask on Tony could see every scrape and bruise on the kid's face.
His left eye was swelling, as was his cheekbone, grazed and sore. He tried again, even as he pressed the mask close and dragged in oxygen between every other word.
"It's not that...bad it barely...even hurts I just got w-winded. It's okay."
Tony couldn't take it anymore, voice rising in panic and anger, all eyes turning to him, shocked. "Stop saying it's okay! It's not okay! You got hurt!"
He turned to the others, pointing an accusing finger at the startled Avengers. "And you guys had enough time to get Bruce here with an oxygen tank and you didn't tell me sooner?!"
Natasha stood, hands out to placate as she tried to explain.
"We had a mission to finish, Tony. If it had been serious we would have-"
Tony only grew more irate, voice rising louder, making Peter wince. "This isn't serious? He can't breathe!"
Peter sat up, reaching for Tony to try and calm him, but the movement sent pain stabbing through his chest and he groaned. All eyes immediately went back to the teenager and Tony dropped to his knees beside him, grabbing one of his hands as Steve held the oxygen mask back to Peters' face.
Tony felt awful, squeezing Peters hand as he profusely apologised. "Okay, I'm sorry just stop moving. God, Peter you scared me."
The boys face crumpled in pain and guilt sweat breaking out across his forehead as he drew in shallow, strained pants.
"I know...I'm sorry."
Tony dropped his head, sighing. Peters' hand was still shaking and each of his wheezed breaths sounded so painful that Tony didn't want to add to his discomfort by having to worry about him.
"No, it's not your fault. Rhodey said you were down and I panicked just...stay still okay? And stop talking, concentrate on breathing."
Peter nodded squeezing his eyes shut as he finally did as he was told. Steve mumbled reassurances into his ear, cheek pressed close to Peters' head and the kid nodded at whatever he was saying, hands squeezing Tony and Steve's tight.
Bruce knelt close, Steve looking over to him as he explained, hand rubbing soothingly over Peters' chest as the boy whimpered. "Muscle spasms in his back. He said he was hit a few times by some of the bigger inmates."
Bruce frowned, peering down at his tablet, looking over the information Karen was sending from the kid's suit. Tony watched him carefully, anxiety growing at his expression, but it cleared into a gentle smile when he turned to Peter.
"Okay, Buddy I know you're in pain and you want to get out of here but I'm really not comfortable with you moving around until I get you back to the med bay. So, I'm going to have Steve and Natasha help you onto the stretcher and we'll take you to the quinjet, okay?"
Peter opened his eyes a sliver, watching Bruce trustingly as he nodded, feet kicking restlessly on the tarmac. Bruce held his tablet close as Sam pulled the stretcher towards them. "I don't want you doing any of the work, do you understand? Just let them get you settled and focus on breathing through the pain. We'll get some meds sorted once I've made a full assessment."
Tony reluctantly let go of Peters' hand as he and Bruce stood back, watching Steve slip an arm under the boy's knees.
"What's it looking like?" Tony wanted to take the tablet from Bruce's hands and take a look himself but he knew he likely wouldn't understand a lot of it anyway.
Bruce sighed, gesturing to the heroes in front of them as Peter cried out in pain, Steve settling him on the stretcher as Natasha hauled up the oxygen tank and placed it between his knees.
"Well, there's the usual minor concussion three broken ribs and sprained left ankle-" Tony almost laughed at how sad it was for that to be their 'usual'. "-but what I'm really worried about is the bruised kidneys. I won't know more until I get a CT and MRI but I want to be cautious until we do."
Steve was still holding Peters hand as they laid the kid back and pulled straps over him before pulling the stretcher to the jet. Tony and Bruce followed, Tony clenching his hands rhythmically in an anxious habit. "Is it serious?"
Bruce wasn't one to putter around bad news by giving out false expectations and he tilted his head, considering. "Hmm, it can be. The main concern is functionality and internal bleeding. He does seem to be in significant pain but he isn't vomiting and his blood pressures holding steady enough so, I don't think it's severe."
Tony nodded and followed him into the jet, taking a seat beside Peter and taking the kids hand, not letting go for the entire flight back.
Bruce was all business as soon as they got back to the compound, ordering people around and mind racing with everything he needed to be done. "Get him into imaging, I need to get a look at his kidneys."
Peter gripped the rail of the bed as they rolled him down the hall, and he groaned, thumping his head back against the pillows. "It hurts!"
Bruce tapped at his screen before rubbing a comforting hand over Peters' knee. "I know, Bud. I'll get you some pain meds right after these scans. I need to make sure it's not too serious."
Tony followed behind the stretcher, unable to do much to help and hating it. He couldn't hold the kid's hand without the possibility of Peter crushing it, he couldn't help the kid like Bruce could and Steve and Natasha had a way of staying calm no matter how scary the situation was. Tony had anxiety and zero super strength or PHDs in anything medicinal. He couldn't help.
Peter groaned again, the low growl slipping into a whimper as the stretcher was pulled against a wall. His wide eyes were wet and scared and they searched the room for the one person he wanted more than anything.
He reached for him, hair stuck up in unruly loops and Tony made his way over without a second thought. "I'm here, kiddo. You're okay."
Natasha and Steve were gently but quickly pulling Peters suit off but the teenager didn't take his eyes off his mentor. "I can't focus. My senses are just-" He broke off with another cry of pain as his sprained ankle was pulled from the suit but Tony knew what he was trying to say.
There was too much noise, too many people touching him, too much pain to focus on just one thing and it was overwhelming. He needed to focus. Tony could do that.
"Okay, you're okay. Come here." Tony shuffled up the bed, the others moving around him as they pulled the x-ray machine over and positioned it. He leaned down and slipped a hand under Peters' head, pressing his temple to Peters so that his mouth was close to his ear.
"Close your eyes and focus on me, Pete. Just breathe nice and slow." His other hand brushed Peters hair back in slow rhythmic strokes. It was like a bubble was created around the two of them, that blocked out everything else and just held the two of them in the calm and quiet.
Tony heard Peters panicked, strained breathing slow in his ear, smoothing out into even, deep breaths. "That's it, there you go. You're okay, Pete. I'm right here."
Peter calmed down and by the time Tony pulled back the scans were done and Bruce was taping an IV down to his patient's arm. "There was a little bit of internal bleeding but nothing we can't control. I'm giving you something to help with the pain, so you should start to feel better soon."
Peter sighed as he felt the cool flush of medication run through his veins and he let his eyes slip closed to the feeling of Tony's thumb stroking his temple.
"Bed rest. Are you serious?"
Tony crossed his arms, watching Peter kick at his blankets, bandage around his ankle itching. "Yes. Peter, you bruised your kidneys, that's not something to mess around with."
The teenager sunk back into his pillows and glared up at the glow in the dark covered ceiling. Being put on bed rest sucked but at least he was staying in his own room and not the infirmary.
"What is there to mess around with? I'm fine. It's not like walking to the kitchen and back is going to kill me."
Tony rolled his eyes and fussed with Peters blankets, tucking them around the kid's feet and pulling them high up on his chest to cover the bruises painted brightly through pale skin. "Peter, I'm sure one day you'll graduate college with more doctorates than Bruce but until then I'm taking his word over yours. I don't need any more stress right now, okay? Pepper is off in Paris for a charity ball, thing...whatever, which means I have to take all the business calls and meetings. I have enough on my plate without worrying about whatever stupid thing you want to do to get yourself hurt again. So, just stay here and heal, please."
Peter sighed, relenting as Tony tucked him in. "Fine. I'll stay in my bed doing nothing for a whole week." He was grumpy and sulking but Tony was all out of lectures so, he just smiled like he believed him and bent down to kiss his forehead.
"Good. Have fun. I'll come down to have lunch with you later."
Peter groaned and wiped his forehead, pouting but Tony could see the slight blush on Peters cheeks that told him he secretly loved the doting.
He went to leave, waving as he made his way through the door. "Be good!"
Peter groaned again. "Whatever."
It didn't take long for Peter to get bored. Even with the Avengers coming in to check on him and Ned sending Snapchats, he wanted nothing more than to get out of bed.
Mr Stark tended to keep a close eye on Peter, especially after being injured so, really he shouldn't have been surprised when an alarm went off. All he'd done was put his feet on the ground and start to stand when something started beeping and he heard Tony running for his room.
"Dang it! Friday, turn the alarm off!" He was about to swing his legs back onto the bed when his kidneys protested, pain seizing in his back. His knees almost buckled from the pain and he grabbed at the sheets, only managing to pull them from the bed as he slipped to the carpeted floor.
The teenager wrapped his arms around his middle, carefully sticking his bandaged foot out on the carpet so he wouldn't strain it. "I'm fine!"
He could hear Tony's quick feet stomp against the carpet as he ran in, hands slapping the wood of the doorway before he spotted Peter on the other side of the bed.
He ran in and knelt by the boy, hands out to make sure he wasn't hurt.
"What are you doing getting out of bed? I told you to stay put!"
Peter pushed his words out with a groan as Tony helped him off the floor and back into bed. "Sorry, my butt was going numb."
Tony pressed him back into the bed and gently lifted his sore ankle up onto the mattress, warm palm finding the back of Peters' neck when he hissed in pain. "You're lucky to still have a butt, Pete. Easy, easy."
Peter closed his eyes, taking measured, careful breaths in between pale lips. "How did...ugh...you even know I'd gotten up?"
Tony watched him, eyebrows crowded over his worried eyes. "I put a monitor on the mattress to let me know every time you took your butt off it. You okay?"
Peter nodded as the pain passed and he slumped into his pillows, exhausted. "You worry way too much."
Tony pulled the blankets back up the teenager's chest and tucked him back in, shaking his head. "I worry the exact right amount for someone that has you around. You have to take better care of yourself, Pete. What would I do if something happened to you?"
That was a low blow. His quiet voice pierced right through the young hero and he looked away, hand catching Tony's before it could retreat from his blanket. "...I'm...I'm sorry. I'll be more careful."
Tony looked down at the hand Peter was holding and turned his hand in his grip, squeezing tight. "You better be, or I'll tie you to this bed myself and you'll be grounded forever. Now, stay in bed, please. I'll bring you some lunch later. Get some rest or something."
Peter was glad to hear Tony's tone brighten into something playful and he let go of his hand, a small smile pulling at his mouth as he nodded. "Okay. Thanks."
Peter wanted to do as he was told. He didn't want to worry Tony or see that almost haunted look on his face but when someone asks for help he couldn't deny them. Not when they were screaming for it.
If he hadn't been Spider-Man he wouldn't have heard it, wouldn't have even woken up, but he was Spider-Man. Peter jolted upright in his bed, a woman's scream pulling him from dreams and into the waking world where danger awaited. His spine was lit up with what felt like electricity, his spidey senses making every hair on his arms stand on end. Someone needed him.
In his injured state, he should have called for help and let someone else deal with it. But there was no time, the police would take forever to get there and anyone else in the compound wouldn't even know where the trouble was.
What if he let someone else handle it and they were too late? It would be another Uncle Ben that the world would lose, another loved one that a family would have to bury. He couldn't sit by and do nothing. He knew where the scream had come from and he knew what he had to do.
Peter reached a hand down to search for the monitor Tony had told him about, finding the device easily and crushing it between his fingers. With that done he turned an innocent face to the ceiling where Friday was monitoring everything as usual.
"Fri, I'm gonna take a shower but I promise I'll use the stupid seat thing so, I'm not on my feet too long. Don't wake Mr Stark. He needs to sleep."
His shower alibi would give him some time before anyone realised something was wrong but he'd still have to be careful.
He pushed up from his bed and made it to the bathroom which he had insisted Mr Stark make unmonitored by any AI's out of privacy. Once the door was closed it was a straight shot to the window, which had been bolted shut. As if that would stop a superpowered teenager.
"I'm really sorry about this Mr Stark." Peter couldn't help but apologize to thin air as he forced the window to open, bolts popping free and falling to the floor. He knew he'd get in trouble for it, but he couldn't ignore someone in need. He leapt through the window and into the night air, alone and unarmed.
Mr Stark had taken his suit and webs when he'd been put on bedrest and he'd had to leave them behind, but he still had his senses, sticky abilities and his strength. He followed the tingling in his spine and the crying screams of the women in need through the city until he found her and dropped down into the street.
It was cold out and with just sweat pants and a shirt, Peter shivered, feeling practically naked without his mask on. He'd have to be careful about how he used his powers.
The women who had screamed was crying, standing in the deserted street with her hands towards a man, begging him to let someone go.
"Please, you're scaring her! Just give her back to me. You don't have to do this."
Peter kept a careful distance until he knew what was happening, crouching behind a car and peeking around the side to see the man in question, arm wrapped around a toddler who was quietly crying, reaching for the woman.
"You're the one that took her from me. She's my daughter, Eileen!"
Peter poised, ready to run at the man, and take him down but he'd have to be careful about the knife in his hand. Without his webs, he couldn't take him down unless he fought him up close. He'd have to be sure to get the girl out of harm's way first.
"I told you to choose us or choose your mob friends and you chose them, Eric! I left you! The court said-"
"I don't care what the court says, she's mine and I'm going to raise her right."
The little girl started crying again and the knife that Eric was holding behind her glinted in the moonlight. Peter carefully moved back into the shadows, making his way around until he was behind Eric, ready to strike.
His bare feet were freezing on the cold concrete and the wind cut straight through his shirt but he moved onwards, about ready to move forward when his spidey senses tingled again and he turned, hearing tuning into a van moving closer towards them.
Eric smiled at the noise, he must be expecting backup. Peter had to make his move now.
He lunged forward, yanking the knife from the man's hand and throwing it behind him before grabbing the girl. Eric was surprised, stumbling back as Peter shoved him, before sprinting over to Eileen to hand her the crying girl.
"Take her and run!"
But it was too late, the van came swerving down the street and came to a stop in the middle of the road, cutting off their exit.
Three men got out and one grabbed the girl, shoving her in the van and pushing Eileen away before zooming off again.
Eileen screamed for her child but Peter didn't have time to help her. His spidey senses screamed once more but his injuries made him slow and he didn't move in time to dodge the boot that came slamming into his back.
He cried out, having turned enough that the kick landed at his ribs and not on his kidneys outright but there was no doubt that it did some damage. He went sprawling to the ground, hands grazing lightly on the concrete as he caught himself.
"Who do you think you are, getting involved? This is a family matter."
Peter crawled backwards on the ground, as the man above him scowled at his snark. "Doesn't seem like much of a family to me. More of a kidnapping I'd say."
Eric growled, furious, and sent another boot towards Peters' face. But he wasn't fast enough, ankle caught in Peters grip before he could land it.
"Nice try, ass face but you used that move already." He yanked Eric's leg towards him, making the scumbag trip so, that he could pin him to the ground.
Gritting his teeth through the pain of moving around, Peter tugged Eric's belt from his pants and used it to tie his hands before tying his shoelaces together. Eric swore and struggled but was bound tightly and Peter ran down the street towards the woman.
"Make sure he gets picked up by police, I'm going to get your kid back!" He ran past her shocked face, catching her nod just before he turned and booked it after the van. It had a minute head start but he could make it up by cutting across streets and buildings.
His back and ribs burned and he knew he'd broken some more ribs but that little girl needed him. He pushed himself harder down the road, bare feet striking the damp concrete as he ran as fast as his sprained ankle could take him.
Finally, he could see the van as it drove down roads and back streets. He pushed harder, catching it up until he could jump onto the back of it, palms and toes sticking to the back door as he wrenched the other one open.
The men inside looked very surprised to see a pyjama clad teenager force his way inside and quickly tried to get him out, shoving and kicking at him.
He took the hits, still making his way inside and working on taking them out. He threw two men out the back, unable to find it in himself to care much if the kidnappers had a rough landing.
The van swerved from the shifting around, the driver panicking as the two remaining men in the van tried to fight Peter off. The little girl was held in one man's arms, crying as she watched the violence unfold.
Peter didn't want to scare her but he needed to stop the remaining two men somehow and was just about to grab the girl and then knock the bad guys' heads together like he'd seen in cartoons when a siren blared out.
"This is the police! Pull over!"
Thank goodness. Peter hadn't been sure he could go on for much longer. His chest and back screamed with pain and he was beginning to feel lightheaded.
The driver cursed but didn't make any move to comply, instead, speeding up and swerving around a corner. Peter leapt forward, pushing one man's head into the side of the van and knocking him out before leaning over and wrapping an arm around the driver's neck.
"Pull over, right now."
The man reluctantly did as he was told, stopping the van in the middle of the street. "Who the hell are you?"
Peter could hear the cops approaching and the adrenaline spike from the fight was coming down. "I'm-unnggg this is where I'm supposed to say a cool line but I'm actually just in a lot of pain."
His back and his stomach hurt so bad and he was sure he was going to throw up soon if he didn't get out of the van. "I'm gonna get out of here but you have fun in jail, bad-guy. It was nice apprehending you."
His head spun and his ankle screamed in pain with each step he took but he managed to slip out of the van and through the street without the cops spotting him. He waited a moment, to make sure everything was okay, watching the mother jump out of the cop car to race to her daughter before he took his leave.
By that point, after the chase and the takedown, he was too far away from the compound to make it on foot but Ned's place wasn't too far. Peter really wished he had his suit or phone at least.
The street was as quiet as it got in New York at three in the morning and he could still distantly hear the grateful mother talking to her daughter. Peter may have been in a lot of pain but at least it had been worth it.
And there was a lot of pain. Too much in fact. Peter groaned, knees bending as he wrapped his arms around his stomach. His head spun and his chest tensed up at the pain, making it impossible to get anything more than one strained breath in at a time.
He closed his eyes and focused on taking in even, deep breaths, eyes watering from the pain. "Come on, Peter. You can make it. Just get to Ned's and everything will be fine."
But it wasn't fine, something was really wrong. It wasn't just a sore muscle or broken ribs. His kidneys hurt so bad he could barely move and Bruce had already warned him about needing to protect them. He could have internal bleeding or wrecked his kidneys up even more. And he was all alone.
He couldn't stand up while his back was screaming. His knees gave out, head spinning dangerously as he curled up on the pavement, whimpers slipping past his lips. "Dammit. I don't know if I can do this. I wish Mr Stark was here."
The teenager dragged in another wheeze, throat constricting with anxiety as he came worryingly close to having a panic attack. But it wouldn't help, it would only waste time and make it harder to move. So, no matter how scared he was or how much pain he was in he could not fall apart. Because if he died in the street after breaking the rules...Tony would kill him.
"I should have listened. I should have listened. Why am I such an idiot?"
Peter may have wished he wasn't hurt but no matter how awful he felt, deep down he knew that he would still have chosen to save the women and the girl, even if he knew the outcome. He would never put himself before others, it just wasn't in him.
If only someone would save him.
Peter shivered against the ground, damp beginning to seep through his pyjamas and he knew he had to move. He couldn't waste any more time laying there.
So he pressed his palms to the ground and pushed himself up, a groan pulling from him at the pain. But on he went. He blinked the blurry vision away and wrapped an arm around his chest as he coughed and even though he was sure he'd screwed up his sprained ankle, he kept walking.
Stopping meant giving up and he wasn't a quitter. "I can do it. I have to do it."
The pain was almost blinding, growing worse with each step but soon he was just around the corner from Ned's place.
Stones and glass stabbed into the bare soles of his feet, the cold numbing his toes but he almost didn't feel it amongst everything else.
He was getting closer to safety. He could see Ned's place among the others on his block. He could see the number on the door. His stomach twisted and clenched and his vision swam with black spots.
"No, unngg." Something was coming up his throat and he slammed down onto his hands and knees as bright red spilt from his mouth. He gagged, unintentionally breathing in the sharp scent of stomach acid mixed with the heavy smell of blood, only succeeded in twisting his stomach further.
Tears streamed down his cheeks as he clenched his eyes shut, fingers pressing to the concrete so hard they bleached white as his stomach expelled seemingly everything he'd ever eaten.
He'd only been hit a few times, how could it be so bad? What had he done?
Peter wasn't sure he could make it off the ground, his arms wobbling where he held himself up and the puddle he'd left on the ground was so brightly red it frightened him.
But he was so close. Ned's house was just down the street. He could make it.
He dragged his bare feet up and planted them on the ground, pushing himself up till he was standing, albeit wobbly and dizzy.
"Just one step at a time." Uncle Ben used to tell Peter that whenever he encountered something difficult or scary and he remembered it now.
"Just take the next step and then another and another. If you need to take a break that's okay as long as you don't give up. You have to keep moving, kiddo."
Peter missed his voice so much. And he was right all he had to do was keep moving, he was almost there.
Peters bottom lip wobbled, the porch so close and yet so far, he wanted to collapse and sleep but that wasn't an option.
He moved achingly, agonisingly forward until finally, he was climbing the steps to Ned's door.
It was the porch he had sat on with Ned a million times, talking and laughing. It was the porch he'd sat on in silence for hours the night Ben died when May hadn't wanted him home to hear her crying.
He had finally made it. He slumped against the door, knees giving out and he raised a heavy arm to knock at the wood.
He hadn't had the energy to scream, words coming as a tired breath before his body gave out and he crumpled to the ground.
He slid down the door, back pressed against it as he shivered hard, pain eating at his stomach. It was getting harder to breathe and his eyes wouldn't stay open any longer.
The lock in the door behind him clicked and he was suddenly falling back, wood against his back pulling away and leaving him to collapse through the doorway as his eyes rolled back into his head.
"Peter?! Oh my god! Mom! Get the phone! Peter, stay awake, man."
He wished he could, he wished he could tell his friend not to cry, not to worry but he couldn't seem to be able to do anything but pull in stuttered gasps, through trembling lips.
He could hear Ned's mother behind them, gasping as she took in the sight of him before running off to get the phone as Ned had asked.
"Peter, please dude. Just hang on. God, what happened to you?"
The teenager felt drops of water hitting his face as warm familiar hands pulled him up onto folded legs, pressing him against a solid chest as arms wrapped around him and rocked.
"I'm gonna get Mr Stark here and he'll fix you up, okay? Open your eyes." The voice turned into a strangled sob and Peter felt his cheek press against a collarbone, Ned's heart racing against him.
"Mom, he's barely breathing! What do I do?!"
Peter felt the arms around him shake, jostling him as Ned yelled. "Stay awake! Don't go, Pete, please!"
Peter hauled in another wheeze, shallow and stuttered, his eyes fluttering open to see the blurry face of his best friend above him. Ned gasped, looking down at his friend, sniffling as he watched those eyes flutter.
Peter had used up the last of his energy. He was done. His eyes fell shut and everything went dark like the snap of a light switch.
"Peter, don't close your eyes! Stay awake! D-"
(DONT FREAK OUT THERES MORE COMING! might just take a while cause works intense right now
This one made up of two prompts sent ot me on tumblr (prompts are closed)
Could you write a fic where Peter gets hurt during a mission but wants to prove himself to the other avengers so he hides it? And the avengers freak out when Ned calls them the next day to tell them that he found peter passed out and he can't wake him up?
could you write a fic where Peter goes out and gets hurt trying to save someone when he isn't fully healed from his last mission and Tony is mad and Peter's all "you have no idea what it's like to sit in bed at night able to hear screams from a mile away and not be able to do something about it" and he introduces him to Daredevil cus he does?
so yeah spoilies Daredevils comin)