#9--April 22, 2019
Thunder
“Where are you going, kiddo?” Tony asks him as he pushes himself off the coach, launching himself over the back so he doesn’t have to walk in front of people who are watching the movie.
“I’m just getting some water,” Peter murmurs, already making his way towards the kitchen. He freezes momentarily at the rumbling of thunder in the distance, breathing in a sharp breath as his heart thuds unsteadily in his chest. He swallows and shakes his head as he heads towards the cabinet, grabbing a glass and filling it with water.
Peter flinches as a loud roll of thunder rolls in the distance, a loud crack that makes him lose his grip on the glass. His breathing easily becomes labored as the glass shatters on the ground, the remains of his water splattering against the ground and covering him like blood.
Peter grabs at his chest as he slides down the face of the refrigerator, memories and thoughts whirring around his mind. The thunder sounds like a gunshot and suddenly he can see Ben on the cold wet ground of the sidewalk, a hole in his chest and blood covering Peter’s hands. The thunder sounds like Toomes’ wings crashing into the pillars of the warehouse and the resounding boom it made when it fell and suddenly he can’t breathe.
Peter gasps for breath, not aware of anything around him. He can just barely hear the mumbles of a familiar voice, but his ears are ringing with the sound of the gun firing and he can’t breathe because thousands of pounds of concrete and metal are on top of him, pinning him down.
“-er!” he can hear through the fog. “-eter!“ Peter gasps in a deep breath, hands trembling as he latches onto something. It’s warm and holds onto him too, giving him some reassurance because he’s not alone anymore. He’s not in that warehouse alone. He’s not begging for his Uncle to come back even though he’s right below his fingers.
"Peter!” he can make out. “Pete, buddy, you’re okay. Everything’s fine." And suddenly, breathing is a little more bearable because Mr. Stark’s here and Mr. Stark is safe.
But Peter’s still trembling and he can still hear the gunshot and he can still feel the concrete pressing against his back and pushing him into the ground and blood is covering his hands and pants because now it’s Mr. Stark with a bullet in his chest and holding onto him.
"M’s'r S'rk,” Peter slurs out, his brown eyes flickering about until he meets the familiar brown eyes of his father-figure. “Not s'fe. Y'r h'rt." He says it insistently as he clings to the man, tears making his already blurry vision blurrier.
"No, no, no, Pete,” Mr. Stark says, staring into his panicked eyes. “Look at me, I’m fine. You’re fine. You’re safe." Peter just shakes his head, his breathing still labored.
"Y'r hurt! Dad!” he says, burying his head into the man’s chest that he was sure that had a bullet in it. He trembles in the man’s arms, not aware that he just called his mentor dad. “Don’t leave me, too,” he whimpers, his words coming out full and not slurred as Mr. Stark runs his fingers through Peter’s curls.
“You’re safe, buddy,” Tony whispers into Peter’s hair. Peter can vaguely feel them rocking a little and he can’t hear the thunder anymore. “I’m safe and I’m not going anywhere.”
Peter just sobs into his chest. “Please don’t leave,” Peter says, lifting his head to stare into the man’s eyes. Mr. Stark meets his eyes with a soft worried look and shakes his head.
“I’m not leaving, Pete,” Tony insists, ignoring the concerned eyes of the rest of the Avengers. “I’ll never leave you." Tony knows that he can’t keep the promise but damn does he want to.
They sit there for however long it takes until Peter’s no longer sobbing and his breathing is normal and he can breathe.
"Sorry,” Peter murmurs into Mr. Stark’s chest. Tony just shushes him and cards his fingers through Peter’s hair.
“Don’t apologize, kiddo,” Tony says. “Now let’s say we get up, yeah? My knees are starting to hurt." Peter immediately stands up and Tony’s heart practically breaks because this kid cares about him more than he does himself and damn doesn’t he just wish the kid was less like him and not self-sacrificing.
Tony leads Peter over to the couch that the two of them are occupying and one of the team, Sam, hands him water. Tony hands the water to Peter who’s curled against his chest and watches at the kid lifts the glass to his lips. When he downs more than half of the glass, he hands it to Tony, who hands it back to Sam.
It’s not long until Peter slumps against Tony in exhaustion and damn doesn’t Tony wish that Peter doesn’t have to go through this because no kid should.
"Tony…” Natasha says, jumping in the chair nearest him. “What was that?" Tony just sighs and runs his fingers through the kid’s hair.
"Peter has panic attacks sometimes,” Tony says softly, not removing his eyes from the kid.
“Do you know what causes them?” Sam asks, sitting next to them and staring at the kid. Sam has some experience in this kind of thing, so of course he wants to find a way to help the kid.
Tony sighs. “Loud noises tend to trigger them and no I won’t tell you what they’re about because that’s the kid’s job,” Tony sighs as Steve or one of the others try to ask what the kid was seeing.
“Why was he worrying about you leaving?” Wanda inquires in that accented voice of her, her eyes a slight reddish color due to her worry for Peter.
Again, Tony sighs, pulling the kid closer to him. “The kid’s lost a lot in life. That’s all I’m going to say." But, they understand. Because why would this kid call Tony dad if he had his and why would he say "don’t leave me, to”?
“Anyway,” Tony says, changing the subject, “let’s just finish the movie and I’ll take Peter to bed." And everyone does because they don’t want to pry any more than they already have.