- 1 -
Peter jolted awake in bed, panting from the adrenaline of his nightmare and soaked with sweat. He tried to orient himself but he hadn’t smacked his head on the top bunk like normal and clearly this wasn’t his bed, it was too soft. He couldn’t hear the sounds of the city outside their apartment walls and he felt completely lost for a few moments before realizing that he was in the guest bedroom at Mr. Stark's lake house. Because it had been 5 years, and he didn’t have a set of bunk beds in their apartment in Queens. Because May didn’t live in that apartment anymore, she lived in Manhattan. With Happy Hogan. Mr. Stark’s head of security but more importantly, her boyfriend.
He was staying at the lake house for the summer while May and Happy were off on some relief worker trip. As bad as things were in New York after the second snap, a lot of countries were even worse off and May, ever the philanthropist, had to help. She originally wasn't going to go when her hospital brought up the opportunity, worried about Peter, but he assured her he would be fine because he didn't want to stand in the way of her helping people who really needed it. He was fine, or was at least close to fine. Or, he was getting to be close to fine.
He had insisted he would be fine staying by himself, but everyone else had disagreed, even Happy. So that was how he found himself here. It did nothing to comfort him knowing that being in the city wouldn't have helped his disorientation because even there, it would still be a guest room.
Peter could not let himself spiral further into his state of panic, it was hard enough to breathe already, he needed to focus on doing that right now. He stared down into his lap, elbows on his knees and head in his hands. In and out, that’s all he needed to do.
Peter was so focused on controlling his breathing that he didn’t hear the creak of the door as someone walked into his bedroom. He felt the dip of the bed next to him though and turned his head to the side to verify who he already knew it was.
Mr. Stark was wearing plaid pajama pants and a worn AC/DC shirt and had clearly actually been asleep, which was so different from the man Peter had known before the snap. Before Mr. Stark would have been wide awake, wired on caffeine and inventing something crazy in his lab, but that just showed how much had changed.
Before either of them had time to speak, a bleary-eyed Morgan appeared in the doorway.
“Peter? Daddy? Are you okay?” Morgan asked, drowsily rubbing a fist at one of her eyes still half-asleep.
“I’m fine Morgs, I’m sorry for waking you up,” Peter replied, his stomach clenching with guilt for disturbing her.
“You didn’t wake me up, Daddy did. He was being loud in the hallway talking to Friday so I wanted to see,” Morgan said.
That didn’t make Peter feel much better, because whether he had directly woken Morgan or Friday and Tony had woken her up while discussing him, which is what he assumed would have been happening, it was still his fault.
Morgan came into the room and crawled up on the bed on the side of Peter that Tony wasn’t occupying. “Did you have a bad dream?” She asked innocently and then without waiting for a response, “I have bad dreams sometimes. You should ask daddy for a hug. That will fix it.” Morgan spoke pragmatically as if the solution to all of Peter’s problems was that simple.
“Kids right, I’ve been known to have pretty spectacular hugs. Can scare away all of the monsters within a three-mile radius,” Tony deadpanned, but his tone was betrayed by the small smile on his face.
Morgan nodded vehemently in agreement with her dad’s statement. “It’s true,” she added seriously, “I’ve never once seen a monster while daddy was holding me. I’ve never even felt scared if I was in his arms.”
“I have,” Peter muttered under his breath, thinking it was too quiet to hear and still staring at his sheets so he didn’t see the absolutely crestfallen look on Tony’s face at his confession. Tony knew immediately what Peter was talking about. The kid had dissolved in his arms on an alien planet and no amount of hugging would ever make the fear from that memory go away.
“Could I at least try?” Tony asked, moving in for a hug, but pausing when Peter flinched and moved away from him.
“No thanks. I mean, I’d rather you didn’t…I mean, I’m fine. I really don’t want a hug right now. I actually could use a little bit of space. A few minutes, just to myself. Please.”
Tony dropped his arms slowly to his sides and stood from the bed. “Of course, whatever you need Peter. But it’s a standing offer, free hugs whenever you want them. Day or night. It’s the same for Morgan, I’m always available.
Peter nodded but his gaze had returned to his lap. Tony reached out a hand as if to pat him on the shoulder but then thought better of it. He wasn’t a psychologist but after all of the trauma Peter had been through, he figured it was a completely valid response to want space right now. He needed to respect that, as much as it killed him to watch his kid suffer. He just wanted to pull him into his arms and hold him tight until all of his pain melted away, but that wasn’t an option if it wasn’t what Peter wanted.
“Well, I’m going to take the princess…” Tony started to say.
“I was promoted to Prime Minister daddy, you know that,” Morgan interrupted exasperated.
“Sorry, of course. I am going to take the Prime Minister back to her own bed now, do you think you can try to get back to sleep?” Tony asked.
Peter nodded into his lap again and Tony couldn’t help the small sigh that escaped him seeing how dejected Peter was.
“Right,” He said, not believing Peter for a second, “well if you can’t, let me know and we can watch a movie or something. I hear 2 am is the best time to watch Star Wars.” When even that didn’t elicit more than a grunt of response, he knew it was time to let it go and give Peter the space he so clearly wanted.
“Come along Madame Prime Minister,” Tony said, scooping Morgan into his arms and carrying her through the door.
“I answer to your Royal Lordship now,” Peter heard Morgan explain from the hallway on the way back to her room.
“I’ve been thinking that I should take over the world. I think people would be a lot happier as my royal subjects then they are right now. And Gerald has said he would be my Vice Queen and I think he’d do a pretty good job. Mommy can be an advisor and I think you would make a very good royal train conductor. Did you know that an engineer is another word for a train conductor?”
“Thanks, Morgana, but I think you should wait until your a little older to start planning your world domination. Mull it over a bit more. It’d be awfully time consuming and I don’t know that you’d have time to host your famous tea parties.”
“Your probably right. I’m much too busy to be a ruler right now.”
Peter lay back in his bed, still wide-awake, staring at his ceiling and listening to the conversation Tony and Morgan were having as the man tried to put her back to bed. He ached to let the man hold him and comfort him like he did Morgan. He wanted to let his mentor wrap his arms around him like some sort of shield from the realities of the world. But he couldn’t have that. He was too broken and too damaged to let Tony touch him - to let anyone touch him right now. If he gave in and let Tony hold him, Peter knew that little bit of comfort would make him fall apart and he didn’t think he’d ever be able to put himself back together again.
He was caught up in his own self deprecating thoughts and didn’t immediately notice when Tony reappeared in his doorway.
“So what’s the plan, sleep or movie? I am absolutely down for either,” Tony offered quietly.
“I’ll just go back to sleep I think. Thanks for the offer though,” Peter answered, exhaustion making his voice sound hoarse.
Tony looked at him appraisingly, seemingly trying to decide if he was going to let this go or if he was going to push the issue. “Okay, well if you need anything, just come get me, or if you don’t want to, ask Friday. I don’t usually sleep much anyway so don’t worry that you might wake me, I’ll probably be working or something anyway,” Tony tried to comfort Peter, but he saw through the offer. He knew Tony actually did sleep now that he had his own kid and a somewhat normal life, but he appreciated that the lie was supposed to help ease his guilt.
Tony hesitated in the doorway and then turned to go. He stopped a few steps into the hallway and turned back to look at Peter. Peter met his eyes for the first time that night.
“Peter, you can talk to me about anything,” Mr. Stark’s voice was pleading, “You know that, right?”
Peter nodded and then moved to lay back down under his covers and added, “I’m okay, I promise.”
- 2 -
It was Friday and Peter had been at the lake house for five days and hadn’t slept through the night for any of them. He had explicitly told Friday not to inform Mr. Stark when he had a nightmare but either she hadn’t listened, or the man had some sort of sixth sense because he would always come. Before Peter could orient himself and catch his breath, Mr. Stark would be there. They had fallen into a routine of sorts; the man would sit next to him in silence for a few minutes while Peter collected himself. If Peter was having a lot of trouble, Mr. Stark would breathe really deeply, slowly, encouraging Peter to copy him. Once he had calmed down a bit, Mr. Stark would ask him if he wanted to talk and Peter would always say no. After the second night when Mr. Stark had tried to put a comforting hand on his shoulder and Peter had violently flinched away and ended up tumbling out of his bed, Mr. Stark had kept his distance. Peter wanted to scream in frustration at how much he wanted to give in and just accept a stupid hug, but he couldn’t. Mr. Stark would always offer to stay with him or to go down to the living room or something, but Peter always sent him away, and the man always reluctantly listened.
Apparently, Friday night was movie night, and Morgan had made it very clear that his participation was not optional, no matter how exhausted he was, so that is how Peter found himself standing just outside the living room on the verge of a complete panic attack. The Starks were all sitting on the couch, Morgan between Pepper and Tony, and they had clearly left a space for him on Tony’s other side. Fortunately, everyone was focused forward on the television discussing the movie selection so no one noticed Peter staring at the couch and having an internal freak-out about whether or not he could actually handle sitting that close to Mr. Stark.
Finally, he decided to sit in the chair on the opposite side of the room and made to walk over there. His movement caught Tony’s eye.
“Hey kid, come sit with us,” he offered, patting the empty cushion next to him.
“Yah Petey, come sit with us,” Morgan echoed.
“No thank Morgs,” Peter opted to respond to her instead of Tony, hoping it would be easier. “I take up a lot of space so I’m going to claim this whole chair for myself.”
Morgan squinted her eyes and stared at him as if trying to assess if this was an acceptable explanation or if she found his “a lot of space” determination to be accurate. He must have passed her inspection because she didn’t look happy, but she eventually nodded and turned back toward the TV.
Tony was not so easy to appease and the man stared at Peter with a questioning look in his eyes. Peter wanted to tell him that he was afraid to sit next to him in case he relaxed too much and fell asleep. He was afraid that if he curled up in that corner of the couch, so close to the protective embrace of his mentor, he might be able to breathe a little better and abate his anxiety just for a bit. If he let himself sleep, he would dream, and if he dreamt, he’d be on Titan again and he just couldn’t handle it right now. He had adjusted to the near constant state of tension in his body and knew better than to all of a sudden let himself relax.
He broke eye contact with Mr. Stark, settled into the arm chair, and turned to face the TV. Now that he was seated Morgan instructed Friday, “Play the Incredibles, Friday!” And the movie started.
Peter could barely focus on the screen because he was so tired. Despite his distance, he could hear the comforting, steady beating of Mr. Stark’s heart underneath the noise of the movie. Combined with the dim lighting in the room and the very comfortable chair he was curled up in, keeping his eyes open was a battle. Each blink lasted a bit longer than the one before until his eyes slid shut and stayed closed.
The moment he drifted to sleep in the Stark’s living room, he ‘awoke’ in the dark void of the soul stone. Alone. Completely alone. The nightmare tormented him with the feeling of dust coating his nose and mouth, with the sticky heat from his suit and with the familiar panic of being lost and abandoned in a sea of nothing. He had no concept of how much time passed in his dream, but in the midst of the nothingness, he felt an arm beneath his knees and another under his back, and then he was being lifted in the air. Peter abruptly awoke from his dream and jerked away from whatever was holding him and tumbled to the ground, his head smacking into the wooden floor with a loud ‘crack.’
“Christ kid, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.” Tony dropped to his knees next to Peter, his hands reaching out for the boy to check for injuries before he stopped himself and put them up in the air in front of him as if to show he meant no harm. “The movie was over and you were asleep. You’ve looked so tired lately and I didn’t want to wake you. I was just going to carry you up to your own bed. I thought that would be more comfortable. Pepper just took Morgan upstairs. I’m really sorry. I didn’t realize you were having a nightmare. Although I should have guessed.” Tony said the last part more to himself.
Peter was still lying on the ground but pushed himself up so he was resting on his elbows. “It’s not your fault. Thanks for waking me, I can take myself to bed though,” Peter said and then pushed himself the rest of the way up. He swayed on his feet for a few moments and Tony’s hand hovered just below his elbow, ready to catch him, but he regained his balance after a moment.
“Peter,” Tony’s voice sounded desperate as he pled with Peter, “I want to help you. I know that you have been through so much, so much more than anyone should ever have to go through, please. Talk to me, let me help.”
Peter shook his head and started to walk toward the stairs, to go upstairs and lie awake in his own bed since he was certain there would be no sleeping for the rest of the night. “I appreciate it Mr. Stark, but I just need sleep, that’s all. Nothing wrong.”
“Peter,” Mr. Stark started again but Peter didn’t allow the man to continue. He glanced behind him before continuing upstairs and assured Tony, “I’m okay, I promise.”
- 3 -
Morgan spent all of breakfast on Saturday pestering Tony about going down to the lake to swim because it was a "bazillion and six degrees daddy" and she absolutely wouldn't survive the heat. Tony had protested that he had work to do, and as much as he'd like to go swimming, she would have to wait until later that afternoon so that he could watch her.
Peter was passively listening to their conversation, picking at the waffles on his plate, so exhausted that he didn't even feel hungry. Tony had been eyeing his still very-full plate but so far had not commented on it.
"I can take her," Peter heard himself offering, not entirely sure what compelled him to say that.
Tony looked at him with surprise, "Are you sure? You don't have to, she won't actually die, I assure you."
"Sure," Peter said. He had made the offer and Morgan had perked up considerably from her moping at his suggestion, he wasn't going to back out on her now. It wasn't her fault that he couldn't sleep and that he constantly felt like there was electricity running through his body from persistent anxiety.
"Daddy!" Tony was standing in the kitchen and heard his daughters scream coming from down by the lake. He dropped the plate he was holding and didn't even register as it shattered on the ground next to him, he was already out the door and running down to the dock.
He was pressing buttons on his watch, calling a medical suit to himself in preparation for whatever he was about to encounter. He wouldn't even let himself think of what could be waiting for him and all the hazards that swimming in the lake presented.
His heartbeat slowed just slightly as he approached the dock and saw both his kids were safely on dry land, alleviating his deepest fear that he had refused to admit, that he would find one of his kids drowning in the lake because he had been too 'busy' to come down here with them. He would never forgive himself it that ever happened and vowed that no one would go near the water again without him present. Him and a suit standing by for whatever emergency might present itself. He could plan for all that later though, right now he needed to determine what had caused his daughter panic.
As soon as Morgan caught sight of him, she ran to meet him and grabbed his hand, pulling him toward Peter. There were tear tracks running down her face and she was hiccupping through her own sobs.
"Something is wrong with Petey," she cried, "I asked him to jump off the dock with me and then as soon as we got in the water he started freaking out. He pulled us both out and he's just been sitting there crying and breathing real hard. He won't answer me and he pushed me when I tried to hug him," Morgan sobbed even harder.
"It's okay," Tony tried to soothe as they came up next to Peter, "Can you please go wait for me on the porch Morgs? I don't want you near the water and I want to be able to help Peter without worrying."
Morgan nodded, though she seemed uneasy about leaving Peter.
"Mommy is on her way home," Tony soothed her. Pepper would have gotten a notification as soon as he activated a medic suit and would probably be flying home in her own as they spoke.
“In fact," Tony thought, "Why don't you take my phone and call Mommy and talk to her. She is headed back but might be a little bit worried and will want to hear from you that you are okay." Tony pulled his phone out, Friday would have already let Pepper know everyone was okay, but it couldn’t hurt. Morgan took the phone and looked at Peter's trembling form with fear in her eyes before running toward the cabin.
With one less thing to worry about, Tony turned to the shaking kid in front of him. For the most part, Peter sat motionless except for the trembling in his shoulders. Not wanting to startle him, Tony moved around to get in front of him and in his line of sight before getting down on his knees to be on eye level.
His heart broke as he took in the sopping wet hair on Peter's head and the lake water mixing with tears as it dripped down his face.
"Hey Pete," He tried to be as gentle as possible, "are you with me? Can you tell me where you are?"
Peter continued to just stare directly ahead, eyes glazed over, not really looking at Tony, but past him and over the water. Tony very slowly reached out to place a hand on Peter's shoulder, but as soon as he made contact, Peter jolted into awareness and practically leapt backward to get away from him. Tony saw the glazed over look had been replaced with wild-eyed terror and he sat motionless, hands held up in front of him trying to appear as non-threatening as possible, waiting for Peter to recognize his surroundings.
After a few moments, the heaving breaths in Peter's chest slowed and his gaze stopped wandering around and settled on Tony.
"Hey bud, Are you with me now?" Tony tried again, keeping his voice soft and slowly lowering his hands, keeping them in view still in an attempt to be as non-threatening as possible.
Peter waited a moment, giving Tony an assessing gaze before nodding almost imperceptibly.
"That's really good. Can you help me understand what happened?" Tony cajoled.
Peter paused again before shaking his head and then softly adding, "I'm fine."
Tony had to hold back a snort at such a blatant lie from the kid, but it wouldn't do him any good to make Peter feel belittled.
"Is Morgan okay? I didn't mean to scare her," Peter added, finally looking up to meet Tony's eye.
"Morgan is completely fine. She just wanted to make sure you were okay. She's with Pepper."
Peter wasn't completely sure how it had happened, but the moment his feet his the water he was back in the lake, wrapped in a parachute and drowning. His brain stopped working but some instinct kicked in and the next thing he knew he was pulling himself and Morgan out of the lake, much to Morgan's displeasure.
"Petey, why'd we get out?" Morgan asked, the pout on her face evidence in her voice.
Peter tried to reply to her but all that came out was a wheezing breath and then he wasn't sitting on the dock anymore. He was drowning again or floating in nothingness as dust. His body was on fire from the pain of turning to dust, his lungs burning from lack of oxygen. He was too far gone to hear Morgan screaming for her dad. It wasn't until he felt the hand on his shoulder that he came back to awareness and jumped back out of reach of whoever might be trying to hurt him. He looked around frantically to make sure Morgan wasn't nearby and in any danger from this attacker but eventually his gaze settled on Tony and he realized that the threat was all in his head. He should have known that his spidey-sense would have warned him if there was a true threat and it had been nearly silent since he'd arrived here. The buzz of his anxiety was his only companion right now.
He registered it was Tony in front of him and felt an overwhelming urge to just run and collapse into his arms and let his mentor comfort him, but he couldn't. He craved the comfort he knew Tony would provide, but he couldn't accept it. He was so on edge, he was terrified of letting the man get close only for Peter to panic and lash out and hurt him. So he tried to push him away physically and emotionally. It was better for them both that way.
"Let's get you warmed up," Tony said, holding out a hand to help Peter up, but the kid ignored him and stood, somewhat shakily on his own. They walked up toward the house together, Tony keeping one hand behind Peter, making sure not to touch him but wanting to be prepared if he stumbled. When they got inside Tony led Peter upstairs to his and Pepper's room. Peter hesitated in the doorway before following him in. He pulled out the fluffiest towels that they had and draped one around Peter's shoulders. He made to use the other to towel off the kid's hair, but as soon as Peter registered his intent, he was ducked out of the way.
"I can do that," Peter said. Tony wanted to scream but held it back and tried to keep his face neutral.
"Are you sure? Because I really don't mind," Tony tried one last time.
"Yes," Peter said vehemently.
Tony relinquished the towel and stood back as helplessly as Peter dried his curls somewhat awkwardly with one towel while trying to hold the other one around his shoulders. Tony finally decided he needed to be helpful and went to get some warm clothes out of Peter's room. The kid still didn't have very much, and Tony made a mental note to order him more clothes, before returning to his own room to supplement the kid's things with his own sweat pants and hoodie.
He held out the clothes to Peter once it was clear the kid had accomplished all he was going to getting dry by himself and Peter disappeared into the bathroom to change. Tony sat down on the bed while he waited.
When Peter reappeared looking even younger than he was, if that was possible, wearing Tony's clothes, Tony tried to bring up the conversation again.
"Hey, kid. We don't have to talk about it, but if you want to, I'm here. There's nothing to be ashamed of, you have been so brave and you have every right to get a little freaked out by the water," Tony tried to start the conversation. But Peter wasn't having it.
Peter shook his head no and replied, "I'm okay, I promise,"
- 4 -
It was July before he knew it and a month had passed at the lake. Peter was actually enjoying his time at the lake - playing with Morgan, working on tech with Tony, having family dinners - but he still couldn’t sleep and he still couldn't get to close to his mentor without feeling like he was going to dissolve. Tony knew something was wrong and kept trying to broach the subject, but Peter refused to talk about it and Tony never got frustrated or pushed him. He steadily reminded him that he wasn't going anywhere and would be there when Peter was ready to talk.
Morgan had been going on all day about how excited she was for the fourth of July fireworks that night. Mr. Stark had set up a massive display and sent it out into the lake on a special boat he had designed. The entire setup was completely automated and all Mr. Stark would have to do was push a button from the shore and then they could sit back and watch the display.
Peter felt on edge the whole day and couldn’t pinpoint why. He tried to push it aside and enjoy the hamburgers they grilled and the shortcake that Pepper had baked. As darkness fell, they moved from the patio table down to some lounge chairs facing the lake and settled in for the show.
The first firework burst in the sky just a moment before the noise of the explosion. That almost unnoticeable delay between the speed of light and the speed of sound. It was there though, a fraction of a second for Peter to enjoy the beauty of the firework before the sound caused his head to erupt into pain and his mind to start spiraling into the bad place.
All of a sudden he was no longer at the lake, he was on a battlefield, fighting against aliens who they had already lost to once. There was a cacophony of violence around him and Peter couldn’t stop to process it because he had to keep fighting. His life and half of the population of the world depended on it.
More fireworks went off and Peter collapsed to the ground, curling in on himself with his head between his knees and his hands clawing at his ears trying to block out some of the sounds. A hand reached out to touch him and it felt like fire coming in contact with his skin. His senses were out of control and he could count the fibers in the shirt he was wearing and the blades of grass beneath his legs. He heard screaming and then realized that the noise was coming from him.
Peter fought against the stars in his vision, trying not to pass out from the pain in his head, and then something metal brushed his hair and a helmet was placed over his head. Immediately, the world dulled. The noise of the fireworks was muffled, the light from the moon and the fireworks was dimmed to nearly black. Peter let out a shuddering breath, trying to get ahold of himself and then slowly lifted his eyes, looking through the lenses of the iron man helmet to see Tony squatting in front of him with a look of panic on his face. When Tony realized that Peter was looking at him, he mimed standing up and going into the house and then tilted his head at Peter to make it a question. Peter nodded, which felt odd in the bulky helmet and painfully got to his feet. Mr. Stark didn’t try to help him after his touch had elicited such a pained scream earlier, but he hovered close by in case he was needed.
Slowly, they made their way back into the house, Peter flinching every time another firework went off despite the silencing effects of the helmet. Once they were through the door Tony led him down the hall to the room he was staying in and then directly into the closet. Peter wasn’t sure why, but noticed the complete darkness of the space and thought it was as good of a place as any. Out of nowhere Mr. Stark produced a set of noise-canceling headphones and a pair of very dark sunglasses and held them out to Peter. Peter didn’t look forward to removing the helmet but knew it would be more comfortable to have the headphones on. The less coming into contact with his skin, the better.
Slowly he lifted the helmet, surprised how well the closet was blocking the noise, though it was still too much to hear. Quickly, he exchanged the helmet for the headphones and the glasses and settled them on his face. Then he sunk down to the floor, curling back in on himself and trying to touch as little as possible to his skin.
He couldn’t help the tears that fell from his eyes. The salt burned on his oversensitive skin but that did nothing to stop him. He just kept his head down let himself silently cry. He wanted nothing more than to let Tony shield him from all the noise and light and fear, he knew being touched would be excruciating. Instead, they just sat there in darkness for what seemed like hours. Eventually, Peter’s senses dulled back to a more manageable state and after looking to Tony for confirmation that the outside world would be quiet, Peter eased the headphones off his head and was met with blessed silence.
“Hey,” Tony spoke so quietly that Peter wouldn’t have been able to hear him without his enhancements, “How are you feeling?”
“I’m fine,” Peter answered automatically.
“Kid,” Tony tried again, still gentle but clearly not believing him, “after everything that has happened, I should have thought about the effect explosions might have. That’s on me. Your response was valid and I’m sorry to have triggered that. If you want to talk about it, with me, or even with someone else,” Tony tried to offer but Peter cut him off.
“It isn’t anything big, it was just a lot for my senses. Enhanced hearing and whatnot,” Peter tried to justify, seeing the incredulous look on Mr. Stark's face but knowing the man wouldn't openly challenge him on this. He was pretty sure Mr. Stark saw right through him, but he wasn't ready to admit to anything yet. “I don’t need to talk about it. I’m okay, I promise.”
- 5 -
Pepper and Tony were both tied up on phone calls and Peter had offered to make Morgan lunch. Morgan had begged him to let her help and he had thought asking her to pick out some fruit to go with her sandwich wouldn't be so bad. He should have realized that any kid of Tony's would go the extra mile and end up in trouble, and instead of deciding on a fruit, Morgan had retrieved an apple from the counter and somehow got ahold of a knife and was attempting to cut it herself. Peter could swear his back was only turned for a second and next thing he knew, she had climbed onto the counter and was waving the knife around the air pretending it was a sword and apple in front of her was an unruly subject of the crown being beheaded (he thought he heard her use the word guillotine but couldn't be sure and had no idea where she would have picked it up but chose to let that part go for now).
"Hey Morgs, you aren't supposed to be using a knife," Peter tried to keep his voice calm and friendly, not wanting to be mean or to startle Morgan.
"Oops," Morgan looked at him sheepishly, obviously knowing she was doing something she wasn't supposed to.
"Hand it over kid," he said, holding out a hand for the knife. Morgan moved to give it to him but then there was a loud thud from upstairs. She whipped around to try and see the origin of the noise, and her sudden movement caused the knife to cut right through Peter's forearm.
He hissed out a breath at the sting which drew Morgans attention. She gasped when she saw what she had done and immediately dropped the knife, letting it fall to the floor, thankfully missing impaling Peter's foot by a couple of inches.
“I'm so sorry Petey," Morgan wailed, "I didn't mean to hurt you.”
"It's okay, Morgan. I'm fine, just a little scratch," Peter tried to console her while he wrapped a kitchen towel around his arm to staunch the flow of blood. Before he could figure out what the logical next step was, Tony appeared in the doorway, probably having heard Morgan's cries from upstairs. He had walked around the corner, still partially listening to someone on the phone, but the moment his eyes landed on Peter and countertop that was pretty well covered with blood, the phone slipped through his fingers and clattered to the floor.
"What happened!" Tony asked, moving quickly toward the two of them and eyeing Morgan up-and-down to check for injuries. Once he determined that her tears were only from emotional distress and not from physical harm, he moved his attention to Peter.
"Little mishap. It's my fault, I wasn't paying close enough attention. I'm so sorry," Peter stumbled over his words, trying to apologize for letting Morgan get her hands on a knife and putting her in harm's way.
Tony had been looking around the room for something and when his eyes landed on the bloody knife on the floor by Peter's foot. He looked between the knife and Peter's arm.
"Did your sister STAB you?" Tony asked, sounding confused and terrified as he looked between the knife and Morgan.
Peter was too out of it from blood loss and shock to even register that Tony had referred to Morgan as his sister, "No!" he exclaimed, "it was an accident."
Tony shook his head, "we will talk about this later. I want to hear the whole story," he said, more to Morgan than Peter, and she just nodded her head, tears still streaming down her face.
"Come on Pete, let's move up to the bathroom, that's where the first-aid kit is. Are you feeling light-headed? Can you walk okay? You can sit here, I can bring it down maybe. This is a lot of blood..." Tony trailed off, seeming to debate with himself if Peter was fit to walk.
"It's fine. I don't want to get blood on the carpets though," Peter replied, even though he was starting to feel a bit light-headed, he wasn't going to admit to it.
"I don't give a damn about the carpets, Peter. The very bottom of the list of things I care about actually. I was debating getting rid of them just because. I hope you get blood on them honestly, it would give me a good excuse," Tony half-joked, but he was still looking worried.
Tony reached out to put a hand on Peter's non-injured arm and to help him upstairs, but Peter instinctively moved away from the man before he could touch him. It was just a habit at this point.
"Right," Tony said, more to himself than to Peter, when he realized the kid wasn't going to let him help. "At least let me walk behind you so I can catch you if you pass out,"
Peter tried to determine if the man was joking, but the look on his face told him it was a serious request. Peter nodded and started to walk out of the kitchen, Mr. Stark following closely behind him.
At that moment, Pepper came around the corner, apparently having taken notice of the commotion in the kitchen. She quickly and silently assessed the situation before swooping in and picking Morgan up from the middle of the mess on the counter.
"Do you need any help," She asked Tony, there were unspoken questions hanging in her voice, but she wasn't going to pry while Peter was actively bleeding.
"I think we can manage," Tony replied, keeping his eyes on Peter.
"Okay, just yell if you need anything," She said, "I'm going to give Morgan a bath."
Peter continued out of the kitchen and up the stairs, using all of his energy to keep from swaying too much or from giving in and passing out. After what felt like an eternity, per Tony's instructions, he found himself sitting on the edge of the bathtub in the Stark's master bathroom. He wanted to feel awkward to be in their room again, but he was fully distracted by his arm.
Tony fetched the first aid kit from under the cabinets and knelt down in front of Peter.
"Can I take the towel off and get a better look," Tony asked.
"Um, I can unwrap it," Peter offered, moving to do it himself.
Tony hissed when the last layer of towel came away and he could see the angry cut running up his arm.
"She really got you good there kid. I think you might need stitches," He mused.
"It's not as bad as it looked," Peter defended. "Besides, I heal fast."
Tony shook his head, "I still think you need stitches. We have everything to do it here so we don't even have to go to the hospital. Rhodey put as all through field-medic training. I can do them for you.”
Peter waited for Tony to finish and then gave a firm, "No. I can do it myself if I need to. I've done it plenty of time."
Tony just stared at him, seemingly unsure of what to say. "What do you mean you've done it plenty of times? When have you been stitching yourself up???" he finally asked.
Peter shrugged, wincing when it pulled at his cut, "I was out doing the hero thing before I met you. And you can learn just about anything on YouTube these days."
Tony looked horrified at the idea of a fourteen-year-old Peter stitching himself up after a rough patrol. "Are you sure you won't let me help?" he tried, "I promise I'll be gentle."
"No. I can do it." Peter said resolutely. Tony gave in and started taking things out of the kit and handing them to Peter. Disinfectant, gauze, a numbing gel that Peter was certain would accomplish nothing but that he used just to appease the other man. Finally everything was clean and Tony hesitantly handed over the suture kit.
"I really don't like this kid. Can we just go to the hospital instead? Or I can call Rhodey or Bruce or something?" He tried one last time.
"It's fine Mr. Stark, I can do it," Peter assured him.
Tony sat stoically while Peter sewed up his cut, flinching every time the needle pierced his skin as though it was him getting the stitches. Peter made quick work of the injury and was soon accepting a bandage from Tony and binding up his injury.
"Look, good as new," Peter said lightly, trying to alleviate that tension that had settled over the room while he worked.
Tony examined him closely, seeming to search Peter's face, but for what, he didn't know.
"Okay, how about we head down to the living room. You need to eat something for your spidey-metabolism and I don't want you taking pain meds on an empty stomach."
Peter stood from the tub and swayed a bit when he got to his feet. Mr. Stark moved to help him but stopped just short. "Can I help, please?" Tony asked.
Peter shook his head no. "I can walk on my own. I'm okay, I promise."
+1
Tony was growing increasingly concerned. Watching Peter fighting to pull himself out of panic attacks without accepting any help was torture. The kid was 15 but had been through more trauma than most adults and Tony just desperately wanted Peter to let him be a parent and help bear that burden for him.
He was so conflicted as to where the line fell between giving Peter the space he needed and following his cues as to what would be helpful versus seeing where it wasn't working anymore and he had to play the adult card and step in. Peter had been fighting this battle by himself for over a month and if the kid didn’t start to get some real sleep, Tony was going to have to call in Dr. Cho or Bruce to work on some drugs for him because he was dead on his feet.
Mind made up, Tony set out to look for Peter. He found him sitting at the end of the dock, feet dangling over the water, staring out at the horizon, and walked out to join him. He knew Peter could hear him approach but the kid was either too caught up in his own thoughts to notice, or he just didn’t care, because he didn’t make any move to acknowledge Tony’s presence. Tony took a lack of rejection as an invitation to join him and sat down next to his kid, leaving a few inches between them. He turned so he was sitting cross-legged facing Peter, with the water off to his side.
“Kid, whatever it is that you think you have to handle on your own, you don’t,” Tony started, pleading in his voice, “I would do anything for you. I would go through it all a hundred times so that you wouldn’t have to experience any of it once, but I can’t do that. And it kills me to watch you suffer alone,” Tony’s voice cracked and he felt his own tears falling now, “I am begging you, Peter, if you won’t let me in for yourself, please, do it for me. I need you to let me help you.”
Peter shook his head ‘no.’ He was still looking out over the water but spoke softly, “You don’t understand, I can’t. I can’t talk to you, I can’t let you touch me, I can’t let you help. I just can’t.” Peter’s voice cracked as he spoke, “Just leave me alone. That’s what I need right now.”
Tony’s heart broke into even more pieces if that was even possible. For a moment he wrestled with the idea of giving in to Peter, of listening to the kid's plea for space and respecting that, but despite what Peter was saying, Tony knew that wasn’t what he actually needed.
“I am not going anywhere, kid. Please. You don’t have to talk to me right now, but can I please at least give you a hug?” Tony ached to hug his kid after letting Peter push him away for so long.
Peter shook his head almost imperceptibly. He finally turned his head and met Tony’s gaze, each one staring into the other's tear-filled eyes until Peter finally broke eye contact. His head fell forward, chin to chest, and gut-wrenching sobs wracked his frame. Tony almost joined him in sobbing, he was so at a loss as to what to do, but then very slowly, he leaned in. He gave Peter time to push him away, he had heard the kids say he didn’t want a hug with his words and Tony didn’t believe that was actually what he wanted, but he still moved at a glacial pace. It felt like an eternity, but the kid’s forehead was finally resting on Tony’s chest and he couldn’t take it anymore. Tony placed one hand on the back of his kid’s head, holding him against his chest, and he wrapped his other arm around him and pulled Peter firmly into his lap. Peter didn’t pull away. He melted into the embrace and started to sob even harder. Tony held him tightly, running his fingers through the boy's curls and gently started rocking back and forth.
He wasn’t sure how long they sat like that, clutching each other, Peter sobbing loudly while Tony had silent tears streaming down his own face. Finally, Peter’s sobs slowed and he lifted his own tear-stained eyes to meet Tony’s, not moving from the man’s embrace.
“Tony,” Peter’s voice broke saying his name, “I think I need help.”
Tony hugged Peter tighter if that was possible. “Okay,” he replied, his own voice thick with tears, “whatever you need, I am here.
“I’m so tired. I just want to sleep without having nightmares and not be afraid anymore,” Peter sniffed as he spoke, he was no longer sobbing but tears were still flowing freely down his face.
“I will never let anything else happen to you if I can help it. I know I can’t protect you from everything, but I swear I will do everything in my power to keep you safe,” Tony told him.
Peter nodded, “I feel like I’ll be afraid forever,” he confessed.
Tony hugged him tighter, “I know it feels like that but, but you have to trust me that eventually, you’ll be okay. I promise.”