Peter’s head is killing him. And the hunger. Right now the headache takes precedence though, as it feels like his skull is too small to contain his brain. The pressure behind his eyes has him imagine he’s one of those sick dog breeds, the Cavalier, that MJ told him about. Their cerebellum can’t fit in their skull, she had said.
He wonders if it hurts this bad.
The scratching of tens of pencils on paper around him doesn’t help his situation. Neither does the hollow emptiness in his stomach.
He skipped breakfast again because… Well. He did drugs last weekend. And Tony had to come get him when he was too out of it to do much else than cry like a child. He doesn’t really remember anything from the night, but he knows he said something he wouldn’t have normally, because the Starks have kept a closer eye on him. Tony has started to wake up with him again.
Except for today. Peter woke up and left an hour early just so he could forgo breakfast. It’s the only way to ease the guilt nowadays since the Starks refuse to punish him the way his dad did. Which he’s secretly grateful for, even if it makes his situation more difficult.
So, no more bruises for him. The growling of his stomach during the first period, however, had soothed the guilt to a point where he was so high on relief that he didn’t eat anything at lunch either. He had snapped at Ned when he asked Peter about it, so now they’ve avoided each other for the rest of the day.
Somewhere along the line his raging hunger had kickstarted the mother of all headaches.
He drops his head down on his desk, black dots dimming his vision, as saliva fills his mouth.
Right now he wishes he hadn’t pushed himself quite this far.
—————
By the time school lets out, Peter can barely see straight.
He’s stumbling along the hallway, blindly using the lockers to guide him out of the building and to the pick-up zone where Tony will be waiting for him.
He just needs to get to the car.
Cold sweat breaks over his skin and his stomach rolls with nausea as he struggles to put one foot in front of the other.
The glaring sun that pierces his eyes intensifies the pressure in his head so viciously that his eyes blur.
He nearly falls down the stairs in front of the school when he misses a step.
Out in the pick-up spot, he can see the familiar vehicle. Tony. He just needs to get to Tony.
He’s nearly there when the door to the Audi opens, reflecting the sun off the glossy surface. The glare of light passes over Peter’s eyes, burning away the last of his resolve and the last thing he makes out is a startled yelp before he plummets to blessed darkness.
————
”-er! Kid!”
Someone’s rubbing his sternum while another pair of hands pat at his face.
”Ungh…” He opens his eyes, but immediately snaps them closed when the sun burns his eyes.
”Hey, Peter? You with us? How many fingers am I holding up?”
”Calm down a little, give him a minute.”
”Don’t tell me to calm down! I told you to catch him.”
”How, Tony? I was still in the car!”
”You’re a super soldier! You have enhanced everything!”
”Oh I must have missed the part where I also had the power to teleport! Because I was still in the car-”
”Guh-” Peter groans again, the bickering grating on his already overwhelmed senses.
”Pete? Can you hear me?”
He takes another crack at opening his eyes, very slowly this time and is met with a wide eyed Tony and a frowning Steve.
”Tony?”
Tony blows out a breath, shoulders slumping.
”Thank God, you scared the living daylights out of me, you hooligan.”
”Oh…” he looks at Steve.
”Hey, Champ. Think you can sit up?”
In all honesty he’s not sure but the embarrassment is starting to take hold of him. He really just fainted in front of Steve. He tries to spring up but it flares the still present throbbing in his head so harshly that it makes him swoon on the spot, and he nearly falls back down.
”Hey-”
”Whoah! Easy!”
Tony and Steve grab at him, keeping him up.
”Okay, maybe we should lay you back down.”
He’s so disoriented, his brain feeling scrambled in a way it hasn’t been in a while, so it takes him a moment to take in the growing crowd of spectators around them. Some with phones pointed at them.
There is no way he’s going to stay on the ground for another minute and let the other students oogle at him like he’s a particularly odd specimen at a zoo.
Trying to jump up again, he nearly succeeds on his own. His legs turn to noodles when he’s upright and he almost collapses back down, but the two men hold him up by his arms.
”Peter! Jeez, kid. Just, take it easy for a minute.”
”Can we just go?” He hisses, eyes squeezed closed to stave off the nausea. ”People are looking.”
There’s a pat on his shoulder. ”Yeah, okay. Steve, to the car, let’s go.”
They stumble to the car, and once Peter has been wrangled inside, he tilts to the side and falls sideways on the leather seats.
”Whoa! Whoa, Steve, catch him!”
”How, Tony?! I was-”
”You can’t just let him drop like that!”
Peter makes another unintelligible sound as he tries to push himself up on his elbows.
”Peter.” He hears the door on the other side open. ”You’re okay. We’re going to get you all fixed up-”
Letting out a growl, Peter finally gets himself upright.
”Stop talking. Please.”
”It’s okay, son.” He feels Steve pat his leg. ”We’ll get you to the tower soon. Dr. Cho will-”
He has to press his palms to his ears. The pressure doesn’t help at all so his fingers curl to scratch behind his ears on instinct.
”Hey, kid-”
”Peter, stop-”
His wrists are held in a vice grip and he writhes against the seat.
”Okay.” He hears Tony murmur and then feels him climb in next to him. His head is guided to rest against a warm chest and a calloused palm is placed on the side of his head. It doesn’t really block the sound, but it does center him. The pressure is soothing, even if it doesn’t lessen the pain.
—————————
Getting out of the car is as much of an ordeal as getting in it, but it doesn’t take long at all until he’s laying in the medbay bed hooked to an IV painkiller. The sudden relief from the agony is so great that he falls asleep almost instantly once the medicine kicks in.
—————————
”Hypoglycemia.”
”Low blood sugar?”
Peter squirms on the bed, avoiding Tony’s and Pepper’s eyes.
”Yes.” Dr. Cho confirms. ”That paired with stress can cause quite a havoc on the body.”
He hears Tony sigh. ”Alright. That’s…”
”It could’ve been worse.” Helen says, tone serious.
”Peter, with your metabolism you can’t afford to miss meals. I really cannot stress that enough.”
The rush of shame has him curling that much tighter into himself.
Tony seems to pick up on the unease, as he places a hand on Peter’s shoulder.
”Thanks, Helen.” Pepper offers, and absentmindedly brushes some curls off Peter’s forehead.
”My pleasure.” Dr. Cho turns to him. ”I’ll be by to check on you before you leave, Peter. Just take it easy for a while. Doctor’s orders.”
The room falls silent after she leaves and the reality of knowing that the Starks are now aware of this issue too settles on him like a heavy blanket.
”I’m sorry.” He blurts out before anyone else can say anything.
Tony’s hand moves to rub his back. ”It’s okay.” It brings tears to Peter’s eyes and he has to blink them away before the couple can see. God, he’s such a failure. He can’t do anything right.
”Honey, we have to talk about this.” Pepper’s hand falls on his, squeezing it, and suddenly he can’t swallow the tears back anymore.
His breath hitches wetly and he starts to furiously wipe his eyes. ”Th-there’s s-something wrong with me!”
”Oh buddy-”
”Honey-”
The secret is out. It’s like a carpet has been ripped from under his feet.
”There’s nothing wrong with you.” Tony’s voice is adamant. ”It’s just a little hiccup. We’ll work it out.”
Peter shakes his head.
”I did it on purpose!” He heaves a breath. ”I had to. If I don’t, then…”
For someone usually so facile, Tony looks awfully serious.
Peter’s lip trembles.
”I feel guilty. All the time. And you never do anything so I have to.” It isn’t supposed to come out accusatory but somehow it does. ”I have to. It’s the only thing that helps.”
The Starks share a look. This is it , Peter thinks. Now they finally see how fucked up you are . They’ll hand him off to the next poor bastard who has the misfortune of having to put up with him.
”Honey.” Pepper’s hand cups his chin. ”I think we need to reconsider starting sessions with Paola again.”
His heart drops. They think he needs a therapist?
”And not because there’s anything wrong with you. We’re worried about you.”
He shakes his head. ”You don’t have to be, I-”
Tony cuts him off. ”Peter, you fainted at school today. I would say that makes our worries’ more than justified.” His voice is soft. ”Clearly this is something we need help with.”
We. He’s once again roped them in with his problems.
”Kid, we only want you to be happy. Everyone needs a little help sometimes, no shame in that. Look at me.” Tony gestures to himself. ”I’ve been to counseling and it helped.”
Peter blows out a shaky breath. ”Can’t you just… I don’t know, smack me around a little bit?”
He means it as a joke, but Tony looks stricken and the hand on his back tenses.
Shit. He always says the wrong thing.
”No, Peter. Never.”
”It was a joke.”
”Even so,” Pepper cuts in before things can escalate.
”Hitting you is not the answer. Ever. We’re doing things differently in this household.”
The stream of tears has stifled down to quiet sniffles and Peter wipes his eyes.
”But you have to do something. If I do something bad I will feel guilty.”
Pepper scrutinizes him with a pondering look.
”Did you take the drugs on purpose?”
”What?” Peter’s head snaps up. ”No!”
”Alright then. I don’t see why you should feel guilty about that.”
”Because… because I’m underage.”
The gaze in Pepper’s eyes turns fond and she pulls Peter into a hug. ”Yes, you are. But you didn’t intend to do it. Even if you did, we would talk about it with you.”
Peter chews on his lip. ”But-”
”We will find a solution for this too.” Pepper sounds so sure. ”So you won’t feel so miserable when something like this happens.”
The tension that has been taking up space in Peter’s chest for a week now starts to dissipate.
”Anything else on your mind?” Pepper urges gently.
”I yelled at Ned. I didn’t mean to.”
There’s a reassuring squeeze on his shoulder. ”I’m sure he’ll understand. Why don’t you call him later?”
Peter sighs heavily. ”Yeah. I’m sorry. I just make your lives harder.”
Pepper pulls away from the hug and gives him a look.
”You do know who you’re talking to right?” She points to a smiling Tony. ”Tony’s been making my life hell for years and he’s still here.”
The man’s jaw drops, appalled. It makes Peter let out a laugh. He feels lighter than he has in months.
”Haha, very hilarious, honey.” Tony grumbles but he doesn’t look upset at all. He reaches for Peter. ”C’mere, kid.” He’s pulled into another hug, and Tony squeezes him so tight that he’s sure his ribs creak.
Peter soaks the moment in, just content to be held. He pats Tony’s back. ”You guys are so nice. Just. So nice.”
Tony gives him another squeeze and Pepper’s hand settles on top of his curls. ”Right back at ya, kid.” The man strokes his back, all warm and secure. ”Right back at ya.”