What a moron.
It's clear to me that you were not ready for this.
Peter didn't hear Fury— he didn't, not really. He swallowed his anger for now, fear constricting his lungs instead as he nodded to everything Fury said. (It was vaguely reminiscent of another lecture he’d gotten from a certain mentor, something taunted. He pushed it back into the depths of his mind.)
He didn't even realize it was over until he’d made it to the top of the building. All of the bitterness he’d lazily pushed down came rushing back. He clenched his fists, ready to beat the hell out of Nick Fury. Who wasn't there.
“It's clear to me that you were not ready for this,” he scoffed to himself. He wasn't ready for this, was he? But they were gonna make him do it anyway, yeah? He unclenched his hands. “I can't do this anymore,” he mumbled, sitting down to hug his knees.
He looked up, sensing a familiar presence. Quentin.
“Fury asked me to come up here, see how you were doing. He just— he felt bad. about snapping at you,” he said, keeping his tone sympathetic and light as he floated in front of peter.
Peter perked up at that. “Really?” he asked.
Quentin paused for a second. “You guys do have sarcasm on this earth, right?” he joked, earning a pitiful chuckle from Peter. He was silent for a few moments before he pushed on. “How’re you feeling?”
Peter looked away, tilting his head. “I didn't think I would have to save the world again this summer,” he told Quentin. As an afterthought, he added, “I know that makes me sound like such a jerk, I just…”
Quentin hummed. “It doesn't make you sound like a jerk,” he flew to sit next to peter. “It makes you sound like a kid. And this is, objectively, too much for a kid.”
“Fury is right to be pissed. I've dealt with stuff like this before. worse, even.” he admits. “Everyone's wondering, ‘why now? why is he like this now?’” he looks down at his hands. “and… I don't have an answer. I just— every time I finally have the energy to get up and do something I— I see him. Mister Stark,” he adds, "and I just can't.”
Quentin, ever the understanding, “Tell me about… what you wanted this summer to be like instead,” he says.
“I had this plan with this girl that I really like.” He grimaces. After a long time, “and now it's all ruined.”
Quentin takes the mask off. “You’re not a jerk for wanting a normal life, kid.”
And he sounds painfully like Tony Stark. it was embarrassing, how ready he was to go all koala on this guy, this guy who he didn't even know. but he was so vulnerable. and this Guy (Trademarked) was right in front of the Guy (Trademarked) shaped hole in heart.
“It's a hard path. You see things, you do things. You make choices. People look up to you,” he says, looking off into the distance.
That last one sent a pang through his heart. He wants to be the one looking up to people. He wants to be the one who has heroes.
“And even if you win a battle, sometimes they die,” Quentin paused, “I like you, peter. you’re a good kid.”
Peter looked at him, trying not to smile too much. Or cry.
“There's a part of me that wants me to tell you, just… turn around, run away from all this. Then there's another part of me that… knows what we’re about to fight.” He looks at peter. “What's at stake. and I'm glad you’re here.” Quentin puts a hand on his shoulder.
Stark, Stark, Stark, Peter's brain says. he swallowed it down, down, down, along with the lump in his throat. “Me too,” he says.
“But, you're worried about your friends,” Quentin says.
“Yeah.” he looks away. “I just always feel like I'm putting them in danger.”
Quentin was quiet for a moment. “Look, just— get them inside, and keep them in a safe place for just a few hours. They’ll be all right.”
Peter knew he wasn't making any promises. But for some reason, god knows why, it truly made the weight of the world lose it a little. And, “It's really nice to have somebody to talk to about… superhero stuff, yknow?”
“Any time, kid.”
And Quentin suddenly pulled him in for a hug. How was he supposed to be cool like this?
“That used to be Mister Stark,” his voice cracked. Quentin patted his back, and he was slowly breaking. “And then he was gone. Just like that, and— and now I feel like, what am I doing here, anymore? I seriously can't remember,” he laughs wetly, as Quentin pulls away.
“Grief does that, Peter,” he says, “You aren't broken. You’ll still heal, though,” he reaches for Peter's hand. “You'll heal. And I'll be here, if you’d let me." He gives Peter's hand a small squeeze.
“And hey, we survive this, you’ll have all summer to kill Brad,” he kids.
Peter chuckles lightly. “See you out there,” he says, getting ready to jump down.
It was dim, but, for the first time in what felt like forever, he could see some kind of light. Not to the end of the tunnel, god no. But… to healing. Now that he had someone. His heart swelled.
What a moron.