Father Figure Fury

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Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Archive Warning: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Fandom: Ultimate Spider-Man (Cartoon 2012)
Relationship: Nick Fury & Peter Parker
Characters: Peter Parker, Nick Fury, Curt Connors, Otto Octavius
Additional Tags: Whump, Peter Parker Whump, Hurt/Comfort, Protective Nick Fury,
Parent Nick Fury, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Hurt Peter Parker,
Stabbing, Poison, Kidnapping, episode:s01e12, Peter Parker is a Mess,
Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Platonic Relationships
Language: English
Stats: Published: 2024-02-19 Words: 3,365 Chapters: 1/?
 Father Figure Fury
by SADIECOOCOO

Summary

a collection of one shots that are episode rewrites, maybe some original scenarios too! All
will explore Fury being a father figure to Peter since there was no way he wasn’t one in the
show

ON HIATUS

Notes

I'm doing a rewatch of usm and while it does do a pretty good job on whump scenes, they just
aren't whumpy enough lol

also there are barely any fics with a father figure Fury for usm and I felt like I needed to fix
that :)

I hope you all enjoy

See the end of the work for more notes

Peter’s head hurt like hell, a constant ringing disturbed the back of his brain. He squinted his
eyes open, but closed them again as the light only made the pain worse. He could faintly hear
a creepy voice talking to someone, the other voice sounded staticky as if it were over a call.
He couldn’t shake a small sense of familiarity from the other voice, both voices, really.

The experimentally opened his eyes again, trying to move carefully. His heart sped up as he
realized he couldn’t move his arms or legs. Something was tightly wrapped around them,
stopping him from moving. Another coil-like restraint was holding his head up slightly. He
groaned as the slight movement that he made disturbed his aching muscles.

“He’s stirring…” He heard the staticky voice say, but Peter could only make out parts of what
the voice was saying. It seemed to cut off every view seconds, the constant ringing
overpowering his ear drums.

Peter flinched slightly as he heard the eerie voice speak sharply. The familiar voice said
something with just as much fire, then cut off. Peter clenched his fists weakly, trying to see
the extent of his muscle movement.

He slipped back into unconsciousness for a few seconds. He imagined Fury and him sitting
by a campfire. His dream-self cringed as he watched dream-Fury eat scorpions like they were
popcorn.

“Now do we see the consequences of our actions?” Dream-Fury asked between bites. Peter
sighed, his shoulders slumping.

“Yeah…” He grumbled weakly. Dream-Fury continued chowing down on the squirming

arachnids. Peter faintly heard a buzzing sound, and he felt that strange tingle and sense of
wrongness that he always felt whenever his spidey sense went off.

“You should probably wake up now.” Dream-Fury suggested. Strange tentacles writhed
behind the Shield director, another wrapping itself around peter.

“Yeah,” Peter repeated, feeling a slight pain on his shoulder. It roused him awake. Peter’s
eyes widened as he saw the buzzsaw currently cutting into his shoulder. He suppressed a
scream of pain.

Doc Ock was standing in front of him, a sadistic smile on his face. Peter grimaced behind his
mask. He really wished that wasn’t the face he woke up to, it might give him nightmares.

The webslinger still felt the web shooter on his wrist, he thanked whatever god may be out
there. Peter shot a web at the mechanical tentacle with the buzzsaw, then dragged it over to
the restraints to cut them.

He once again fought to not scream out in pain as the saw dragged across his arm. He was
able to cut the restraints, mildly proud of himself for causing the expression of pure shock
and “oh shit” on Doc Ock’s face.
Peter, with his newly freed arm, ripped the rest of the restraints off of him and jumped to the
wall. He stuck to it, then shot a flurry of webs at Doc Ock. The aquatic themed doctor
blocked them with his tentacles, thoroughly coating them with webs.

“Nice lair Doc, this where you do your make-up?” Peter quipped. It wasn’t his best joke, but
his ears were still ringing and he felt like this was a fight he needed to focus on more than his
jokes.

“No!” Doc Ock exclaimed, though Peter wasn’t sure if it was him denying the make-up thing
or him just being mad about Peter escaping. He didn’t give Peter much time to contemplate
though, as he quickly flung the buzzsaw tentacle towards Peter.

The webslinger jumped out of the way and started swinging across the room. His shoulder
was screaming at him to stop, and warm blood oozed from the long cut.

“G-Gotta say doc, I’m not a fan of the buzzsaw!” Peter yelled from over his shoulder as he
dodged another attack. Doc Ock only scowled and started attacking twice as fast.

Oh shit , Peter cursed silently as one of the tentacles grabbed his arm and flung him into the
wall. The metal of the wall dented as Peter’s back hit it. He thought he felt something break,
but the adrenaline was stopping him from figuring out what exactly broke.

“Get out of my Head! I’m handling this!” Doc Ock yelled at no one, clutching his head. Peter
blinked a couple of times, shaking off the pain and confusion.

“Are you talking to ‘him’ again?” Peter asked indignantly, “I think you’re the one in need of
a doctor.” Peter grumbled, just loud enough for Ock to hear. The creepy doctor yelled and
once again threw Peter into the wall. He grunted in pain and fell to the ground as the doctor
released his arm.

When he tried to get up, the building started to shake. A loud explosion went off in the corner
of the room. Why would Ock blow up his own lair?

“No!” Ock yelled in denial, answering Peter’s question as though he could read his mind. He
guessed that whoever “him” was was the one to pull the plug on this base. Water started to
spew from the hole made in the dark lair.

“We’re underwater?” Peter exclaimed. “No wonder it’s so dark down here, you know you
really should get some more vitamin D.” Peter said matter-of-factly, putting one hand on his
hip and using the other to gesture at Doc Ock. The doctor turned to Peter with an angered
glare, his mouth set in an animalistic scowl. He hit Peter’s side with a tentacle, flinging the
boy into the wall once more.

The webslinger got up quickly, web slapping Ock’s face. He moved over to one of the many
terminals, pressing random keys in hopes that they’d do something.

“Mind if I take a call real quick?” He asked rhetorically. Peter moved on to another computer,
“Geez don’t you have a landline?” He quipped.
“Shut up!” Doc yelled from behind him. Peter’s spidey sense went off again, causing him to
lock up then jump out of the way. He went back to dodging tentacles and jumping around the
room blindly.

Peter was moving sporadically, hoping to confuse the doctor. He went under one tentacle,
then dodged to the right of another. He grabbed the buzzsaw one, the loud noise it made
disturbing his head ache. Peter started jumping around while dragging the buzzsaw with him,
tangling the assortment of tentacles into a pretty bow.

“I’m sure Fury would like this gift.” He smiled behind his mask, the eyes of it squinting in
joy. He webbed Doc’s hands together, then his mouth so he’d stop talking. The boy went
back to the different terminals, continuing to experiment with different buttons.

Several holographic pictures of Peter in different fighting scenarios popped up around. Peter
was disturbed by how many there were.

“Oh so you’re the stalker kind of villain!” Peter said with a slight shake in his voice. That
many pictures of him were unnerving. He looked over Doc again before continuing the joke,
“Yeah that checks out, you're very… stalker-y?” He shrugged at the end, disturbing his still
bleeding shoulder.

Peter finally found a way to contact Shield, he waited anxiously for the call to go through. He
never thought he’d be so relieved to see Fury’s eyepatched, incredibly stern, face. He only
spared Peter a glance, and his heart plummeted as he was given a fairly sarcastic
acknowledgment.

“Oh, it’s you.” He looked back at whatever it was he was doing. Peter felt a bubble of anger
swell up in him, but he knew it would only make things worse.

“Yeah it’s me-” He started, gesturing wildly, then hissed in pain as his shoulder throbbed
once more. Fury looked at him, one eyebrow raised as the indifference slowly turned to a
faint concern and confusion.

“Listen I-I need some help, I’m sorry for blowing up at you.” He fumbled for something to
say that would really get Fury’s attention, “I don’t know where I am, all I know is that I’m in
some psycho stalker’s underwater lair that is-'' he was cut off by another explosion, the
ground shook again and he rushed to stable himself, “about to blow up.” He finished.

Fury blinked at him, then turned back to the computer on his desk and frantically started
typing. “You’re at the bottom of the East River, kid.” He said gravely. Peter flinched as he
felt something cool and wet at his feet, the water was rising slowly.

“That’s just great!” Peter said in a slightly high pitched voice. Was he really panicking right
now? Fury looked at him with an unreadable expression, he was starting to look genuinely
worried about Peter. The Shield director’s eyes flicked to something behind Peter, then they
widened.

“Duck!” He yelled. Peter blinked at him.

“Ducks? No mostly fish-” He was cut off by a staticky scream as he was stabbed with a
tentacle with a taser attached to it. He saw Fury’s worry filled gaze through his darkening
vision. His spidey sense had reacted too late, something that may get him killed now.

The steady stream of electricity refused to halt. Peter shot a web at one of the consoles to the
side of him, then flung it towards Doc Ock. The creep was thrown into the wall, the tentacle
that had lodged itself in Peter's back went along with him.

Peter almost fell to the ground. He caught himself on the console that still held Fury’s now
furious face. The boy slouched against it, his head laying on the keyboard. Peter coughed and
took in shaky breaths, trying to steady himself. He felt warm blood dripping from his back.

“Parker, are you-” Fury started.

“I’m fine .” Peter snapped with a sharp inhale. He got back up on his two feet again, though
had to support himself by putting half weight still on the console, “I’m fine,” He repeated.
Doc Ock threw the console that Peter had thrown on top of him off. It flew past Peter, hitting
the wall behind him and shattering.

“Please-” Peter coughed again, then cleared his throat, “Please hurry.” He said weakly. Out of
the corner of his eye he saw Fury nod curtly. He half-expected him to turn off the call and
leave Peter alone, but the screen stayed lit.

Doc Ock threw a crate at Peter, who jumped on the ceiling to dodge it. It broke one of the
windows looking out into the river. More water started rushing into the layer. The webslinger
cursed silently.

The two continued their dance of dodging flying objects, throwing insults, and grabbing and
flinging each other into walls. Peter couldn’t count on one hand how many ribs he probably
broke, and it was making it very difficult to dodge every hit. Every once in a while he’d hear
some reassurance from Fury that he was almost there, but eventually the water rose high
enough to where the speakers on the console broke.

Every time Peter fell into the water, red tendrils of blood would slither from his wound and
mx into the water, leaving a red cloud of his blood. More explosions went off at every
second, and more places for Peter to move to disappeared or were flooded.

He was running out of room, and had no idea how he’d win this fight. At best he would just
be captured again and moved to somewhere else, at worst both he and Doc would drown
here.

“Oo what do these do?” Peter asked, his voice slightly slurred from blood loss and
exhaustion. He may have finally noticed a weakness other than Doc’s crippling mental
health. Peter shot webs covering the strange flappy devices. Immediately the doctor started to
gasp for breath and fell down into the water, which was right at the ceiling now. Peter had no
choice but to jump down and try to swim for it.

He debated on leaving Doc to drown, but his fatal flaw was his endless amount of mercy.
Peter shot a web string at Doc, then once again flung him towards Peter. The boy grabbed the
creep and started pushing him up to the far away surface. How long does it take to get a
helicarrier over the East river? He thought miserably.

His spidey sense went off again. He froze as he tried to pinpoint what was the new danger.
His eyes flitted to the flappy things that Ock used to breathe, the webbing had dissolved in
the water. Peter’s eyes widened, then he felt another sharp pain, this time in his leg.

He looked down to see that once again he had been stabbed by one of Ock’s tentacles, this
time it held a syringe with a strange liquid in it. Peter kicked it off of him, but ended up just
removing it from Doc instead of his leg. He then pushed off of Doc to get some distance
between the two.

His lungs burned from holding his breath too long. He fought the urge to inhale. Peter
watched Doc, expecting another attack, but the doctor only sneered at him, then used his
tentacles to move through the water.

Peter moved to continue up to the surface, but his leg felt numb. He glanced back down to the
syringe still lodged into his leg. His heart sped up, he was starting to panic even more now.
He tried to swim only using his arm strength, but they had locked up now too. Whatever was
in the syringe was paralyzing him.

Oh no… He thought sluggishly, his eyes already drooping as he couldn’t stand the lack of air
any longer. He stopped struggling, his limbs going completely numb. He hoped Fury would
hurry, but hope was a fickle thing. His eyes closed slowly as exhaustion and pain overtook
him.

His limp body slowly drifted to the bottom of the river as a large shadow hovered above the
water.

Fury hadn’t been able to sit still since he got the call from Peter. He had been bouncing his
leg up and down whenever he sat down, and paced around the room whenever he stood. He
could only blame himself for what happened. Sure, the kid had gotten mad and been the one
to give Fury his communicator, but Fury could have given him the order to keep it.

He could have done something , try to keep tabs on the kid, put a tracker on him, get one of
the team to go with him, something . But no, he had to let Peter have his tantrum and almost
get himself killed. Fury sighed, dragging a hand over his face.

Peter was alive, barely, that was something. He had lost a lot of blood, been electrocuted, had
a concussion, had been paralyzed temporarily, and had to cough up about a gallon of water
from the river. A breathing mask was placed over the boy’s face. Fury had to reassure himself
that the kid was still alive, that the mask was fogging up because Peter was breathing.

He didn’t know why, but he cared about the kid. There was potential in him, more than the
rest of the team combined. He really could be one of the greats. He could be an Avenger if he
really wanted to. But Fury didn’t know if he wanted to make the kid live like that. He was
barely alive now, and Fury still had no idea how it happened.
Maybe he cared about him because the kid had always been noble, been a good guy, and the
universe shit on the kid constantly in return. Peter honestly didn’t deserve anything that’s
happened to him. He never got the chance to know his parents, his uncle was taken from him
just as he got his powers, and now this. Maybe Fury cared because he saw Peter as his own
kid, even though he hadn’t played a part in his life until now.

He hadn’t gotten to see the beginning of the fight, he only knew something was wrong after
Peter called him. He couldn’t shake the sound of the kid’s voice when he called. There was
genuine fear there, he didn’t make quips, he didn’t dodge things easily, he didn’t act like
himself. He was afraid of this Doctor Octopus, and Fury had left him to fight him alone.

He saw the end of the fight, when Peter had gone back to save the doctor. He was proud of
Peter for that, for still being a hero even though he knew full well that that guy didn't deserve
saving. But if Peter hadn’t gone back to save him, he would probably be awake right now,
making jokes about the whole thing.

Fury regarded the sleeping webslinger in silence. His entire arm had a long slash across it, as
if it were made by a buzzsaw, it was fully bandaged now. The kid honestly looked like a
mummy now.

Fury sighed once more, then patted the kid’s hair gently. He got up to leave the infirmary,
Connors needed space to do his work, but movement stopped him short.

Peter grumbled, then shivered slightly. He was slowly stirring awake. Fury looked to
Connors, who nodded and took off the oxygen mask. The director turned his attention back to
the injured boy.

Peter groaned, squinting his eyes open. He sat up slowly as Fury and Connors watched him.
Neither adult had ever tested it, but the boy had a weak healing factor, nothing like Logan’s
or Wade’s, but it was something. Peter placed his good hand on his head, he probably had a
headache.

“Was I asleep?” He asked in a slurred voice. Fury crossed his arms and looked at Peter with
an unreadable expression.

“Try unconscious, and lucky to be alive.” Peter leaned back against the pillows of the
hospital bed, then blinked several times.

“Oh.” He said simply. Fury’s expression turned to that of worry once more.

“Do you remember what happened?” He asked carefully.

“Y-yeah, but I wish I didn’t.” Peter said softly. Fury’s gaze softened, and he sat at the edge of
the hospital bed. He motioned for Connors to give the tow some space, who complied
silently.

“You did good, kid.” Fury said with a sigh. He didn’t look at Peter, not wanting him to see
the faint look of self-hatred on his face.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have given you my communicator.” the boy grumbled. “I know you
just have my best interests at heart.” He sighed. Fury silently handed him his communicator
back, then watched as he put it on.

“It wasn’t your fault.” Fury said, though he knew Peter wouldn’t believe him no matter what
he said.

“Right.” Peter said curtly. Fury glanced at him, the everlasting look of worry still evident.

“So, what did happen?” He asked. Peter shrugged.

“Some crazy stalker guy caught me off guard, kidnapped me, and tried to dissect me.” He
said as if it were just an average tuesday. “I, of course, managed to get free of my restraints, I
kicked his ass, then called you.” He finished with a lazy smile. Fury wondered if he knew
that he had seen the entire second half of the fight.

“Was the shoulder part of the dissection or the fight?”

“Bit of both, swinging definitely made it worse. He said with a hint of pain in his eyes. Fury
sighed again.

“I’m proud of you kid,” He said as he got up, patting Peter’s leg gently as he did so, “You
handled yourself well.” Peter blinked at him with awe. Fury tried not to look at the
assortment of bruises on the boy’s face and several stab wounds on his exposed and bandaged
chest.

“Thanks…” Peter trailed off, unsure of what to say.

“Get some rest kid, we’ll talk more after you’ve recovered.” Fury said, turning his back on
the boy.

“Thanks.” He repeated, genuine relief in his voice. When Fury glanced back, he had
somehow already fallen asleep. The director's brow furrowed in worry again. He shook his
head, then left the infirmary. Connors entered after him.

He didn’t know what he’d do with that kid, but he knew he would do his damned hardest to
keep him alive.
End Notes

I love writing whump and usm gives me so many opportunities to do so

also it's criminal that there aren't any father figure fics with Fury and peter! Like if he wasn't
a father figure in that show then idk who was!

I hope you all enjoyed... I probably did a bad job on the quips but whatever... I enjoyed
writing this :)

Hope you all have a lovely day

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