Chapter 3
Somehow, Mr. Stark has Flash’s footage. He and Dr. Banner (yeah, THE Doctor Bruce Banner) watch it next to Peter’s bed. There’s something seriously otherworldly about watching himself hurl over a trashcan, watching himself collapse, watching himself writhe and twitch on the waxed floor as the audio suddenly erupts in chaos.
Pointedly, he ignores the dark stain slowly growing between his legs. Mr. Stark grimaces, but doesn’t say anything. He’s conscious to Peter’s last remaining shreds of dignity, thankfully, and he does not turn around to look at the boy.
The video cuts when the security guard lifts Peter’s limp body. It ends with MJ yelling at Flash to turn off his phone, and “what the fuck are you doing? He’s sick!”. The cameraman wondering out loud “Shit, is he dead?”
“I got the video from your school,” Mr. Stark admits, “Your friend got the entire seizure on camera, and he gave it to the administration right away. It means that we can see the entire thing, from beginning to end.”
And yeah, Peter can see that. The video doesn’t loop, but it ends with a thumbnail of Peter in an awkward position on the floor. He’s only a little bit surprised that Flash turned the video in. Everybody knows the guy’s an asshole, but he’s still a person and he can still respect emergency situations. Besides, it doesn’t mean that Flash didn’t continue to distribute the footage to classmates. He’s sure it will go viral before the day is out.
“It’s completely normal,” Dr. Banner is watching him with something between sympathy and concern. Peter knows that he’s talking about the… incident. Which only causes his face to heat up and turn away. “You lost all control of your muscles for a short period of time, it’s usual that you would have to urinate.”
“Awesome, good to know.” It’s not as sarcastic as eager. The longer he’s here the more uncomfortable it gets. “Everything’s completely normal and I’m completely fine. Can I leave now?”
“No,” Tony answers almost before Peter’s finished his sentence, “Not unless you want to go to a public hospital and show them that completely normal stab wound, and that completely normal bullet graze, and those completely non-spontaneous muscle spasms.” Tony- Now Tony’s being sarcastic. Between here and a hospital, this is really where Peter would much prefer to spend his time.
He knows that he needs the help, he needs to figure out what’s up and he needs to fix it before he has another episode. It’s just that- He’s only had a single seizure, he doesn’t need two superheroes fussing over him. May is on her way, and that’s all Peter needs. They take care of each other, they always have.
It’s difficult to remember, sometimes, that it’s more than just them now. They’re able to get medical care when they need it, and there’s always somebody watching over them to make sure that they’re both okay. It’s just- he never wanted to be a charity case. He wanted to help people, not to drain their resources.
It doesn’t seem as though he has a choice, anyway. Yes, he can get up and leave, but there’s no way Happy would drive him back. He’d have to walk home by himself, and Mr. Stark sticks to his word. If the billionaire wants to send him to a public hospital, he’s sure it will happen. And if May thinks he should be hospitalized there would be no escape, short of physically forcing his way out.
Peter is fifteen. Refusing medical treatment is not a choice he’s authorized to make. It’s not like he can go in as Spider-Man either. He would need to take off his mask to be tested, and he’s not ready to reveal himself just yet.
“Peter!” May bursts into the room as if the hallway’s on fire. She’s frantic and breathless and the moment she sees him she breaks into relieved tears. Before Peter can respond, she’s on his bed, holding him tightly, checking every visible inch of his skin for injury.
“Aunt May,” Peter laughs, carding a hand through her hair in return, “Don’t worry, I’m alright.”
“You collapsed at school!” She retorts, eyes widened. She seems even more worried now than she had been coming in. Peter shouldn’t have said anything. He bows his head, and lets May fume. Nothing he can say is going to stop her from worrying, he knows that. The best thing right now is to simply let her release the emotions.
“It was a serious seizure,” Dr. Banner says, and Peter grimaces, closely watching his aunt for any reactions, “But the scans show nothing. As far as I can tell, his behavior before it happened was normal, and he recovered quickly afterwards.” There’s something in the doctor’s voice that suggests Peter’s recovery was abnormal, but it’s got to be a good thing. It must mean that Peter’s body and mind are fine. Peter’s body and mind feel fine.
“What does that mean?” May asks, her hand moving to grip Peter’s, “What do we do next?”
“Nothing,” Dr. Banner shrugs, “It’s normal for people to have a seizure at least once in their life. Your family has no history of epilepsy, and we couldn’t find any abnormalities in his CT scan. Peter should go home and try to get some sleep. The less stress he’s under, the better.”
“That means no suiting up and going after supervillains,” Mr. Stark adds, “I’ll know if you do.”
Peter’s about to argue. He can still fight, if something happens and he’s not there, then it’s on him. Before he can utter a word, Mr. Stark continues.
“Imagine if you started seizing while you’re swinging from a web, or trying to protect a civilian.” Peter swallows because yeah, yeah that would be pretty bad. “Who would that help?” Mr. Stark asks, and Peter can’t meet the man’s eyes anymore. He lowers his head.
“Nobody,” He forces out, before he looks back up, “But there’s no guarantee that it’ll happen again! You can even come with me if you want, so you’ll know if I get into trouble,” Peter coughs, “Which I won’t, since I’m feeling totally great.”
He sits cross-legged with his back against the raised bed and smiles. It’s not a lie, he actually does feel fine. Maybe a little shook, but physically, everything seems normal.
“Peter,” A soft voice asks, “Are you really feeling alright?” The doctor seems resigned, but it’s like he said. There’s nothing to do while Peter’s here and there’s no reason to keep him from going home. But, adults seem prone to worry. He knows that they care about him, knows that they’d be upset if anything were to happen.
“Yeah,” Peter says, as sincerely as possible, “I’m really feeling okay now. I won’t go on patrol tonight, and I’ll let you know if anything happens, I promise.”
May and Mr. Stark sigh simultaneously, the billionair rubbing his temple as though he has a headache. May is being guided from the room by Dr. Banner. When the door shuts, leaving only Peter and his mentor, everything is suddenly silent.
It lasts for a few good moments, the air growing thick with discomfort until-
“Why didn’t you call me last night?” Mr. Stark asks, startling the stagnant mood.
“It wasn’t a big deal,” Peter replies, shrugging. He throws his legs over the side of the bed and prepares to stand, “It’s not like I was hurt too badly.”
“Kid, you were shot and stabbed. Not to mention the various other injuries I’m sure healed between then and now,” Mr. Stark looks offended and exasperated, “You could have at least let me check you out.”
“You have to go to the library for that, Mr. Stark,” Peter jokes, but the other man does not laugh, doesn’t even twitch. Peter has to admit that it wasn’t very funny anyways, “I could take care of it myself. I did take care of it myself.”
“Yeah, and who taught you first aid?” Peter says nothing. Somehow, he doesn’t think Mr. Stark would approve of YouTube as a viable education source. The man takes Peter’s silence as an answer and shakes his head. “You could have gotten an infection, and God knows you wouldn’t tell me about it until it’s too late… Just don’t be an idiot, Peter. Talk to me next time.”
The boy nods, and both of them know that the only reason he won’t speak is that he doesn’t want to lie to his mentor. Neither of them say anything about it, they know nothing will change. There are certain things Peter needs to do, and he has no desire to hurt others doing them. If he can take care of himself, then he doesn’t have to watch the bags growing under May’s eyes or the gray hairs increasing on Mr. Stark’s head.
The man lets Happy drive them home, with the promise that he’ll be checking up on Peter often. It would be comforting if Peter didn’t know what a burden he is. All he seems to be able to do is make the people in his life worry more.
He doesn’t really speak on the way home. Happy seems pleased by this development, but May keeps asking him questions and attempting to begin conversations. She asks him if he’s hungry for thai food, he shrugs even though he’s not. She tells him that she doesn’t want him to go to school tomorrow, he shrugs and says ‘whatever’.
She tells him that she’s going to call in sick to work so that she can stay home and watch over him. The heavy pit of guilt grows in his chest. He still hasn’t replied to MJ’s texts and Ned’s missed calls. Just some more examples of people who suffer because Peter can’t get his shit together.
The moment he can, he walks straight into his room. He kicks off his shoes, pulls down his pants, and dives into his Iron Man bedspread. It’s warm and soft and exactly what Peter needs. He doesn’t care about the dried stain on his pillow from the night before, doesn’t care that it’s barely even dinnertime yet. He’s asleep almost before his eyes even close.