It was Tony who found him, sitting on the beach, a few feet away from Toomes' unconscious figure, in the middle of a burning and smoking plane. He was shaking and panting and sand trickled out of his hair and down to his kneading hands.
It was Tony, who directed the police to the man in wings and snarled at the press to fuck off. Luckily, Peter was sitting with his back to everybody, though Tony wasn't sure why. Maybe he had tried to take off before the police came, but hadn't come very far.
“Hey, Kid, you okay?”, the mechanic asked. The teenager didn't react, but just kind of flinched, as if a hot spark had grazed his cheek. “It's over, they got him.”
This time Peter turned around, slowly and nearly falling over. He stared at the man before him for a few seconds, empty eyes meeting worried ones. Then he opened his mouth in the attempt to say something, but nothing came out except for a light noise from the back of his throat. He tried again: “Yeah?”
“Yeah, buddy.” Tony stepped closer now and went down to crouch in front of the kid. “Everything's fine.”
Peter peered at the reporters. The police was barely able to keep them behind the line, away from the crash-side. “Who are they?”, he asked, slightly swaying on his knees.
“Press.” Tony frowned in concern. It wasn't like Peter, not to be aware of his surroundings at all. “They're all really excited because they wanna know who you are. You know, with you being Spiderman and all.”
“Really.”
“Yeah. Listen, kid, are you alright?” He went to touch Peter's shoulder in a way of comfort, but he flinched back just before the contact. Tony slowly pulled back his hand. “Did something happen?”
“He dropped a building on me.” Peter gave him an empty smile. “I crashed with a plane.” He swallowed now and suddenly the smile was gone. Instead there were tears welling from his eyes, big and fast. “I was stuck under that building and I couldn't … I can't get out!” A dry sob shook his body. “I can't get out, Mr. Stark!”
“It's okay now, you are safe!”
“But I-I'm still stuck, Mr. Stark, still stuck, and I can't … can't get out!” His hands ghosted up his arms until he was clutching his own shoulders, rocking back and forth, staring down at the floor.
“Peter, you're not under that building any more, you are safe, you are on the beach, next to me, Tony Stark.” He inched a little closer. “Peter, I'm going to touch you now, okay?” He didn't get an answer, only more mumbling. He shot a nervous look back to the police struggling with the press. Then he turned his attention back to his friend. He gently took his left hand, prying it from his right shoulder. Then he did the same with the other hand and held them firmly in his own. “Look at me, Pete.” He so wasn't trained for this. But he still had to make this work, still had to somehow snap this boy out of his flashback, still had to bring him back to reality. “Do you feel this?” He cupped the younger one's face with one hand and softly stroked over his cheek. “That's real, right?”
Peter nodded, desperately staring at Tony. His eyebrows were furrowed in panic, his lips trembling.
“Okay, so that means I have to be real, too, right?”, Tony continued. Again the other one nodded. “Well, therefore you can't be under that rubble any more, can you?”
This time it took nearly a minute before Peter slowly opened his mouth, although he didn't say anything. Then suddenly he dropped forward and fell into Tony's arms, clutching into his jacket, fingers pressing into his back, face hidden in his chest. Heavy sobs shook him as he returned to the present. “I'm sorry, Mr. Stark.”, he blubbered out. “So sorry, I didn't know where I was and – and I was so – so afraid, I'm sorry!”
“It's okay, buddy. You're okay now.” Tony hugged the younger one back, holding him close, holding him firm, as if he could shield him from everything bad like this. “You're okay now.”
“I want to go home.” Peter snivelled and let out a tired sigh. Then he looked up a little bit. “Can I go home?”
“You'll have to be checked out by some medical staff, but after that Happy will drive you home.” Tony squeezed him once more. “You ready to get up?”
“I don't want to.” He still hadn't let go of the jacket. “I … I just can't … I can't let go.”
“That's okay.” The mechanic placed a soft kiss into the boy's hair. “I'll carry you then. If that's okay with you.” They really had to leave, before somebody did get a picture of the famous Spiderman without his mask, with his guard down and in the aftermath of a flashback, paired with a panic-attack and that wouldn't be good at all.
Peter nodded and moved his hands to Tony's neck, holding on to him. Tony moved his arms under the other one's legs and behind his back, then he stood up. The crowd behind them immediately got louder, yelling questions at them, even though they were still quite a distance away from them.
“Hide your face.”, he murmured and started walking towards press and police.
Peter snuggled his face into Tony's open jacket, so that all that could be seen of him was his sandy hair.
The mechanic tightened his grip and made his way through the excited crowd, questions thrown at them, hands grabbing for his jacket, trying to get a look of Peter's face, but after one man nearly managed to do just that, Tony let out a furious yell, scaring off some of the reporters. Only shortly after, his suit showed up, circling the man with the boy, protecting them of the crowd.
Though they still didn't stop asking questions. So Tony stopped walking for a moment. Then he spoke, slowly and quietly: “Anyone who won't back off, I will have my suit pick up, fly out to the ocean and drop a mile away from the coast. Understood?” He looked around with his lips tightly pressed together. His voice shook slightly with agitation when he added:“This is personal. And you don't want to get in the way of something personal.”
And then he walked away.