I would leave this shitshow but it's my life and I can't die yet
Day three of living on the run: not as good as one would expect. Karen kept bugging him to eat and Ned was asking him when he'd be back at school. Peter had a vague feeling MJ knew what was up but he had to keep up his lies until they left him alone. Until then, he had to keep doing what he does best, fighting crime and getting beat up badly.
There were a few close calls, but he was still alive, right? And being alive was all that really mattered..for now.
Now, as Peter sat up top the rooftops, he let out a sigh of relief. He stopped numerous muggings, a couple of attempted rapes (God, that's such a nasty crime, the thought of it made his stomach churn. Especially with his own history with Skip) and three robberies.
A couple of times throughout his time homeless, he'd seen a familiar red and yellow suit fly by in a flash of color, but it never seemed to get too close to him. Eventually Peter knew he would have to talk to Tony again, but the teen would push it off for as long as possible.
----
Staring at the vitals on the wall, Tony rubbed a hand over his exhausted face. Everything was offline or disconnected except for Spider-Man's vitals. The billionaire thanked whatever god was out there for that extra time he had spent to make sure vitals were always available while Peter was in the suit.
Right now, Peter did not look good. Many concussions, several torn muscles, a couple of broken ribs that seemed to be fixing themselves already and a multitude of different bruises varying in severity. Once or twice there was pretty bad internal bleeding that scared the crap out of Tony, causing him to start looking for the kid but everything turned out alright in the end.
But that wasn't what scared him, what made him scared was how low blood sugar levels were and how many spikes in heart rate there were. FRIDAY had guessed Peter must be having panic attacks and was probably not eating anything.
Tony held a small flip phone in his hand, he looked back up to see the charts observing the teen's health. Another broken rib and severe swelling on the right knee. God this kid was going to be the death of him.
----
The other line rings before it stops "Tony?"
"Hey, Steve. How are ya?" He asks nonchalantly
"Fine. Why did you call me, is there an emergen-"
"Look, I really hate that I need to ask for your help but I have a spider to catch and I can't do it by myself." There's a slight pause before he continues "Nat's off doing hell knows what on some mission and Rhodey is--we you know how he's still recovering."
"What do you need me to do?" He asks solemnly, knowing that whoever Spider-Man is, he must be important
"Just help look around New York with me, the bug couldn't have gotten far and I still see articles about him in Queens"
"Alright, I'll meet you there."
The phone call ended and Tony felt the pit in his stomach feel just the smallest bit lighter.
Half an hour later, the billionaire caught sight of a familiar looking baseball cap(tain america ayyy), making his way over to the blond. They discussed the situation, Tony making sure to avoid Peter's real name and age. When they agreed on a plan, they split up to find a certain red and blue spider-ling
---
The alarm echoed inside his head as the teen continued to fight. His senses were being taken up to an eleven and the loud noises were not helping. The lights became blinding and even the sounds of the thief's footsteps were deafening. Peter threw a web at the criminal, not sure if it hit him or not.
Everything hurt, it was too much. Too much input.
A loud thud hit the floor. He must've hit him. Peter could hear Karen congratulating him and using that as confirmation, he threw a couple more webs for extra protection and started swinging away.
"Peter it seems as though you are in the middle of a crisis. Would you like me to call Tony Stark for assistance?" Karen asked in a soft gentle tone
"N-no, I just--gah---I just need it to be quiet" the teenager whimpers
"I can tone down all outside noises and lower the brightness on your goggles, will that help?"
"Yes-yes please.."
Seconds later everything is quiet, but he doesn't feel any better. It feels like a giant crushing weight was placed on his chest and he couldn't breathe. Even with his senses dulled, he could still hear the ringing in his ears.
It felt terrible, he couldn't get enough oxygen into his lungs.
It was so painful.
He didn't know how much time had passed but it felt like hours.
He was taking in short frequent breaths. In the background, Karen could be heard asking him if he was okay. Peter just focused on his breathing, now realizing he had tears starting to spill down his face.
In...1...2...3...4..5...
Out...1...2...3...4...5...
He repeated this until his heartbeat calmed and sat there for a few more moments before getting up again. The teenager asked Karen to put everything back to its original settings and continued his rounds once again.