Long days
He was so sick of the voices talking around him. Always talking around and through him, or just at him and never to him. Giving him no choice but to listen with no response. Sometimes he just wanted to stand up and scream 'Hey I'm right here!'
They were discussing a plan, a treatment plan, you know? For the boy they weren't talking to, just around. Helen had said something about him being sick no matter when they decided to push the chemo into his veins. It was fucking exhausting either way.
It had been two days since Peter had been transfered back via helicopter, it was a Monday, which meant he was supposed to start chemotherapy again. They chose to hold off on it, they were going to wait until Wednsday. Helen wanted to do another blood transfusion, it felt like he just had one, but whatever. He also got new CT and MRI scans. What frightened Peter the most was the fact that since his port was infected he now had to get the stupid shots in his back again. Why couldn't they just put a new one in or just stop it and let the cancer consume his spine? He didn't know.
Peter felt like giving up or maybe it was giving in? Giving into the cancer, letting it take over his entire body. Aren't things supposed to happen for a reason, why are they interfering with nature?
Peter quickly shut down those thoughts, sometimes he thought the people around him could read his mind. That would be so very bad.
Peter looked at Tony, watching his expression closely, trying to see if he made some weird tech in his freetime that could read minds. Peter didn't think so, he was still engrossed in what Helen was saying to him. Peter moved his hands so he could connect the two pieces of legos that he was holding. Ned had sent him a new lego set, it was Avenger's themed, it contained the original six Avenger's and the Stark Tower in all its glory. Peter laughed to himself, how ironic was it that he was building the Stark Tower while sitting in the Stark Tower.
Peter's mind drifted back to Ned, the last they talked was when the decathlon team won their last competition. They were now qualified for nationals, they had to go through two more in order to get there. It didn't matter if they lost the two competitions because they already qualify, but they obviously weren't going to forfeit, Peter knew that for a fact. God how he wishes he could be there, decathlon was the only activtiy he kept up in school after he started Spider-manning. He loved the thrill of getting a question right and then celebrating after they won.
Ned had begged Peter to come watch them win at nationals, Peter said yes. Of course he would, why wouldn't he? It was a month away, after Christmas. He'd be fine by then.
"Peter!"
Oh shi-
"Yeah- yeah?" Peter placed down his half finished tower, "sorry."
"Helen asked you a question," Pepper gave him an appointed look.
"Right- right, sorry." He licked his lips and leaned back into the stack of pillows that was supporting him, "what was the question again?"
Without missing a beat Helen repeated, "I think it would beneficial if we made an appointment with a psychologist, would that be okay?"
Peter clenched his teeth, not enough to show a grimace, "like the group support? But alone?" Maybe they could read his mind?
"It would be different then what happened during group support, it would be with someone you can tell anything you're comfortable with."
"I- I don't understand. Why?"
Tony pushed away the table that held Peter's entertainment, "Mom and I are just worried, you have been pretty shut down lately. You won't talk to us, we thought talking to someone with a different point of view would be good." Tony wanted to bite his tongue, hold that entire word vomit in. He still couldn't stand therapists, but his daughter was doing so much better since seeing one. Maybe Peter would be too.
"No thanks, I'll talk to you guys. I promise."
"Pete, please try?"
"Kay..."
Helen walks closer to the bed, "we also have to change the dressing on your port today." Helen knew that Peter hated these days, deaccessing his port and taking the dressing off, just to put it all back together again. "Do you want me to do it or your dad?" Tony had done it several times, it had to be done every seven days, so it had become a normal task.
Peter lifted his hand and pointed at Helen, she did it better than Tony, it still hurt though. With his senses dialed to 11 he could feel everything, the needle coming out. The way his skin clung to the dressing as they were peeling it off. The needle repiercing his skin. He hated getting shots before he was Spider-man, this took the icing all the way off the cake for how much hatred he had towards it now.
Peter was determined not to cry this time, everytime he always cried and tried to push their offending hands away. It made him feel like a toddler. Three weeks ago he bit through his bottom lip because he was trying to hold in his cries, he had bled so much that Helen made him have two blood transfusions. Peter thought she was just being over dramatic.
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Wednesday came faster than Peter had expected it to, 8 in the morning was a cruel time to ruin someones day. Peter watched as his nurse connected him to the chemo, he was glaring at her. She was the same nurse that just stuck a needle in his back.
That familiar unwelcome feeling passed through his body once the liquid went down the IV and into his bloodline. He would get hit by a train ten fold if he didn't have to feel 'that' ever again.
Peter inhaled sharply and then twisted his body so he was half on his side, half on his stomach burying his face into his pillows. He had been scared before to lay on his stomach with all the tubes, but he doesn't give a shit anymore. This felt just awful, he was still fighting the infection, getting antibiotics. And now he was getting chemo on top of that, with his other medications. So excuse him if he just wants to cry into his pillow without having to see the looks on his parents faces.
Tony moved his hand to rest on Peter's back for comfort, Peter made a gurgle noise in the back of his throat at the touch making Tony pull back his hand.
"Sorry, Roo." Tony put his hand in a fist and thrusted it into his mouth. He hated when he couldn't comfort his kid, when his touch did more harm to him than good.
"M-music." Peter's voice was muffled by the pillow, but Tony could still tell that he was crying.
Tony pulled his phone out of his pocket and turned on a playlist that he and Peter usually listened to while working in the lab. This one had less rock songs and more quieter tempoed pop songs. He placed it on top of some blankets that covered the bed that weren't puffed up by Peter's body.
Tony observed as Peter's breathing evened out and his shoulders untensed as he fell into a restless slumber.
The day had been going by slower than normal, Peter was drifting in and out of sleep while Tony was researching about gardening. Yeah, he was so bored he was looking up when the best time to plant carrots was. Early spring and late fall apparently. Pepper was taking Morgan out for a girls day, manicures and pedicures the whole nine yards. It was good to get Morgan out of the house and Pepper for that matter, it wasn't healthy to be cooped up into a single room all day. Even Peter had gotten some sunshine on their balcony, this stay so far didn't look promising for any sun.
Peter sat up, it didn't alert Tony to anything, he had been doing that all day. Getting frustrated because he couldn't find a comfortable way to lay, his muscles ached and he felt sick. What did alert Tony was the groan that made it to his ears, he was by Peter's side in a second, sitting on the edge of the bed next to Peter's thigh.
"Do you need anything?" This was a better question than asking if he was okay, there was only so many times that they could ask that question repeatedly before it lost its meaning. Because no shit he wasn't okay.
Unable to speak, Peter nodded and leaned forward. Tony was unsure what he was intending to do until the vomit was already over him. Tony could feel the warmth of the bile on his skin, he didn't have time to be grossed out as Peter slapped a hand over his mouth and threw up some more. The vomit was falling through inbetween his fingers. Tony knew they'd need some assistance so he leaned over and pressed the call button, Peter could dwell in embarrassment later on.
Marcus, some new nurse, walked in only after a few second. He took one look at the situation and put some gloves on, this wasn't new to him, he was used to kids throwing up all the time. He used to work in ER pediatrics.
"Hi Peter, Mr. Stark," now wasn't the time for pleasantries, but it was respectful to show your presence. He handed Tony some paper towels so he could clean off his shirt, pants, and hands. He then rounded to the closet that was in the room, it was stocked with comfy clothes and blankets for Peter. He grabbed some iron man pajamas without thought and a new blanket to replace the one that was covered in the offending substance.
Peter was frozen with his hand still close to his mouth, he looked afraid of making a mess even though there already was one. Marcus walked over and lowered his hand for him and started wiping it clean.
"Oh- 'm sorry," Peter gulped out.
Marcus continued his cleaning, pulling Peter's shirt off from back to front to avoid making a bigger mess. "No need to apologize."
Tony put himself to work by peeling off the top blanket from the pile, discarding it on the floor. Tony watch as Peter lazily replaced his clothes with the help of the nurse, noone wanted to be here. After everything was cleaned up and Marcus took the clothes and drenched blanket, Tony wandered to Peter's side as he got resettled.
"I'm gonna go change real quick, you gonna be alright alone?" Tony hated leaving Peter alone, even if it was for a second.
"I'm sixteen dad. I'll be fine," Peter rolled his eyes in an endearing way and maneuvered back onto his side, struggling once again to find a relaxing position.
Tony gave him a tight lipped smile, "okay, I'll be real quick though."
As Tony got changed and then made his way back down to Med-bay, Helen stopped him in his tracks. Her face was stoic and he knew she knew something he didn't.
"What?"
"When Pepper gets back I'm going to need to talk to the both of you." She left no room for argument.
Tony looked deeper into her expression, searching for anything, "It's about Peter?"
"It always is Tony."
"Right- he's the- the patient," he didn't know why his body felt the beginnings of fear dripping down his spine. "Is everything okay?"
Helen looked down at the manila folder she was holding and spoke no words, it was everything and nothing at the same time. Tony gave a single sharp nod, understanding and also confusion flushing out his insides.
It didn't feel okay.