Peter didn’t realise how screwed he was until he tried to stand up from the couch to go grab his phone from his backpack, which he had haphazardly thrown aside somewhere near the entrance of the penthouse along with his jacket upon arrival, and then just- couldn’t.
Come to think of it, he had been steadily feeling more and more worn out the closer he got to the Tower. The minute he stepped in, it was almost as if the air was heavier, weighing him down and making it harder to walk. He had just chalked that up to being drained from school; after three tests, having to listen to all the chatter about the Winter Formal coming up, and of course, Flash being Flash, it had seemed reasonable to believe that it was just all of that catching up to him.
But then again, the tests had been really easy considering how far ahead he was from the school’s curriculum thanks to Mr. Stark’s vast collection of books on almost every topic Peter has ever been curious about, and his generosity in letting Peter ‘borrow’ them whenever he wanted and annotate the hell out of them until they just about doubled in width with the amount of sticky notes he stuffed in there and found a home on his desk back at the apartment rather than untouched in Mr. Stark’s library since he preferred the convenience of reading on his screens, unlike Peter, who loved the heavy weight of a book in his hands.
The Winter Formal was another potential stressor but honestly, ever since the Homecoming fiasco, Peter has felt pretty much unattached to school dances. He would go if Ned or MJ wanted to go, although the latter was less likely, but otherwise he couldn’t care less. Maybe it was because he was prone to ditching school events, which Liz could corroborate for him if she wasn’t all the way in Oregon (which, by the way, his fault. He knows he made the right choice that night but that doesn’t do anything to lessen the guilt of being the reason her whole life got uprooted), but also because school dances pretty much revolved around dating and asking someone out or getting asked out, and Peter was beyond dating, at least for now when he had so many other exciting things to focus on that his brain doesn’t even entertain the idea of it.
Flash was the only remaining factor but Peter had pretty much gotten used to his mocking and PG version of violence compared to what he faced out in the streets, so it almost faded into the background now. (Almost)
So logically, Peter should have known that something wasn’t right when his vision started fading in and out as he tried to focus on Karamo’s wise words on self-love, which apparently never sunk in even after binge-watching the entire first season of Queer Eye in one day, because he ignored all the signs screaming ‘SOMETHING IS NOT RIGHT!’ and now he’s stuck on Mr. Stark’s couch whilst he and Ms. Potts are in a meeting for another hour.
In all fairness, having an IQ of 180 didn’t mean Peter was actually smart because, as his friends will verify, he was a dumb shit with no sense of self-preservation and apparently zero (0) common sense.
“Friday,” He managed to squeeze out, but it wasn’t loud enough to alert the AI, barely a whisper because he’s pretty sure he’s being strangled or something.
Tears started to leak from his eyes from the frustration of not being able to move or call for help. (and also being terrified)
“Hhhel—”
“Fri–”
“please–”
He could feel his lips move, but no sound was coming out. Vision hazy, unable to breathe, his limbs weighed down, and a scared plea for help on his lips were the last things he felt before the world went black.
_______
Waking up after sustaining an injury whilst out as Spiderman and losing consciousness was always weird. He would always have to fight through the fog left behind by the sedatives and the first of his senses he got back was always his hearing, and then slowly came the rest.
He would hear the steady beeps of the heart monitor, and Mr. Stark usually pacing around the room. He would hear the small sniffles Aunt May tried to hide as she cried tears of frustration and worry, sitting beside his bed.
This was different.
When he reached consciousness, the first thing he did was feel, and he felt warm. He could feel a heaviness on top of him but instead of a boulder crushing him down, it felt like soft blankets enveloping him. He could feel warm air rushing around him as if the air vents were right next to his face. And most importantly, he could feel two warm bodies on either side of him.
All in all, he felt warm.
And soon, confused.
He sluggishly blinked his eyes open, and turned his head only to be met with the sight of Ms. Potts- THE Pepper Potts, CEO of Stark Industries, Powerhouse, his mentor’s fiance, and his kinda mother-figure (although he would never admit it), curled up asleep next to him.
His eyes widened, and his confusion grew astronomically, as he whipped his head to the other side only to be met with a mouthful full of fabric and a light in his eyes.
Mortified, he realised he was tucked under Mr. Stark’s chin, currently very much cuddling his mentor, the same man whose idea of affection was limited to ruffling his hair, putting an arm around his shoulders, or only in the rare cases, usually when Peter read a social cue wrong, hugs.
He tried scrambling out of what he now registered as Mr. Stark and Ms. Pott’s bed, in their ROOM HOLY SHI- but just sitting up had made his head spin horribly and he couldn’t really leave without disturbing them both.
He tried to calm down, slow down his now heaving breaths because he was panicking okay?
Cuddling with Ms. Pott’s was okay because she has always been physically affectionate, from kissing his forehead, to hugs before he left, and even occasionally, falling asleep on her whilst the three of them watched movies in the lounge, so he didn’t think she would mind.
But Mr. Stark?
Mr. Stark wasn’t one for physical affection, and although he must have ended up in their bed by their own volition considering the last thing he remembered was feeling faint whilst watching Queer Eye on the couch outside in the lounge, but it didn’t mean Mr. Stark would be comfortable with him cosying up to him in his own bed.
Which - huh. In his panicking, he had forgotten his confusion, which came back full force now, because? Why was he in their bed anyway?
“Kid?”
He looked back to see Mr. Stark blinking awake.
Peter, of course, immediately started awkwardly rambling, “Mr. Stark! Oh sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you, I was trying really hard not to but then I couldn’t leave the bed as well and I’m confused I don’t really know why I’m here and sorry for getting spit on your shirt-”
“Kid, calm down. How’re you feeling?”
“Fine? A little tired, but nothing I can’t handle.” Which- not entirely the truth, cause his body feels sore all over, but it’s not the worst he’s ever felt so.
Mr. Stark closes his eyes for a bit and breathes out a sigh of relief. He doesn’t say anything else, so the only thing Peter can hear is Ms. Potts’ light snoring, which confuses him even more, because isn’t this weird? Why is Mr. Stark acting like this is no big deal?
“Uh, Mr. stark, can I ask, um, why am I here?”
“What do you mean kid?” Mr Stark said, sitting up a little against the headboard, and reaching for a glass of water on his side table, taking a sip and then handing the rest to Peter, who swigged it down in three big gulps, cause wow he didn’t realise how thirsty he was, before answering, “Like, well, here. Asleep. In your bed.”
“You don’t remember?” Mr. Stark asked looking a little concerned, but not alarmed so it couldn’t have been that bad, right?
“Um no..?”
“Kid, what’s the last thing you remember?”
“I don’t know,” he shrugged, “I remember being on the couch and watching tv and oh! I tried to get my phone but I couldn’t get up-”
And then it all came back to Peter - realising he could barely move, feeling scared but unable to call for help or do much of anything, the helplessness.
“I got an alert from Friday saying your heartbeat had dropped dangerously low, so Pepper and I rushed home, only to find you looking catatonic on the couch.” Mr. Stark shuddered, the lines around his mouth looked deeper as they held a frown, his eyes a bit scared as he recalled, “You were apparently going into hibernation which, I know we hypothesized the possibility of it, but at the moment I didn’t think-
Anyway, the heating had been shut off for maintenance so the penthouse temperature had fallen to around forty-two, and fuck kid, you didn’t even have a jacket on, being exposed to that temperature for such a long time caused your body to start shutting down, you were damn near hypothermic. I called Bruce, and he said everything should be fine as long as we got you warm and kept an eye on you, so Pepper suggested we bring you here. You’ve woken up twice since but this is the most coherent you’ve been so far, so that’s good.”
“But I didn’t even feel cold?” Peter was confused because he knows his spider DNA makes him unable to thermoregulate properly but on his walk back from school he felt normal, not cold at all!
Which… was not normal, dammit! How had he not realised something was wrong when he didn’t feel cold. In January. In New York. With snow on the ground!
“We’ll definitely have to run some tests for that, but chances are since your body was preparing to hibernate, it’s probable that your brain stopped processing external stimuli.”
“Huh yeah, I guess I didn’t really notice much but my vision was going all wonky," he paused for moment, scrunching up his nose absentmindedly, "but um anyway I guess I’ll leave now then and we can- tomorrow we’ll uh yeah but uh thank you for taking care of me.”
Mr. Stark looked like he was about to protest as he made to get up - or try to get up, because honestly, he didn’t think he could stand up properly yet, still feeling weak but he’ll cross that bridge when he got to it, so like 10 seconds from now - but a hand on his arm stopped him. He looked back to see Pepper awake and looking over at him concerned.
Suddenly he was being pulled back into a hug, which he immediately melted into because that’s the feeling Pepper brought, contentment. Comfort.
What surprised him is that Mr. Stark joined in, hugging them both so tight, he almost couldn’t breathe.
Pulling back, Peter saw both their faces and, clearly, how they found him must have looked much scarier than Mr. Stark described because both of them look shaken, scared, with so much love and worry in their eyes that Peter dove back in for another hug, and started to cry.
He had been so so scared on that couch, unable to do anything, feeling almost as if he was about to go to sleep and never wake up. So yeah, he took the comfort that his family was so ready to provide.
He didn’t object when Mr. Stark laid back and pulled him in to lay his head on his chest, nor when Pepper started running her hand through his hair.
He wriggled his toes a couple times to make sure he still could, only kinda scared of freezing up again, but he knew no matter what happened he would be okay because he was with two of the three people he loved most in the world. He let himself relax into their touch, knowing he’s safe here and fell asleep.