Author's Note: Hello everyone. I just wanted to add another note to thank everyone for favouriting, following and reviewing. I'm so glad that so many people are enjoying this story so thank you so much!

Way Too Much Input

The buzzing of the phone on the workbench beside him distracted him from his tinkering and reluctantly, Tony tore his attention away from the thruster he had been adjusting and answered the call.

"Boss, I've been waiting outside for half an hour. The kid's not answering his phone- it keeps saying it's disconnected," Happy informed him irritably.

Tony frowned. "Disconnected?" he questioned. That seemed odd. He had messaged the kid only a few days ago to re-arrange plans for the weekend so that Peter wouldn't miss out on lab time with him because of his decathlon competition. Instead of spending his Saturday morning at the tower, he was going to spend it in the compound.

"FRIDAY, when was the last contact with Peter?" he asked.

"Your last communication with Peter was via text on Thursday evening, confirming that Happy would pick him up at 8.30 this morning," the AI supplied.

"What time is it now?"

"It's 9.05am."

Something was definitely up. Peter wasn't exactly prompt but good manners had been drilled into the kid and he made a conscious effort never to keep Happy or Tony waiting.

The genius turned his attention back to the grumpy man on the other end of the line. "Did you go up to his apartment?"

"And leave the car unattended? Here?" Happy asked incredulously.

Tony rolled his eyes. "FRIDAY, what is May Parker's work schedule?"

"May Parker is currently working. She started a shift at 7.00am and will likely be at work until 7.00pm."

He sighed again, wondering what to do. Finally he came to a decision. "Happy, stay there. I'm going to make my way over," he instructed, hanging up without waiting for a reply.

The metal suit landed on the kerb next to the black Audi and Happy got out of the car at the same time that Tony stepped out of the armour. Happy opened his mouth to speak but Tony turned his attention to the suit as it re-arranged itself to look like a metal suitcase. He picked it up, turning to hand it to Happy.

"I'm going up. I'll call you if I need anything. Wait here," Tony told the driver. Happy only gave a curt nod as Tony turned and headed towards the building. He hadn't been here since he had dropped the kid off after Germany, hadn't been inside the building since the day that he had recruited him.

Tony tried to keep his face as blank as possible as he entered the building, noting the broken elevator and making his way to the stairwell. The building was just as busy as the last time he had been there despite the fact it was early on a Saturday morning. There were several people who were loitering on the landings, perhaps escaping from the people they lived with. The noise from many of the apartments carried out into the hallways despite the closed doors. He wondered why the kid and his Aunt didn't try and find somewhere better to live before it occurred to him that they maybe didn't have much of a choice. He pushed the thought away before he could dwell on it, remembering that they wouldn't take the offer of help very well if they perceived it as charity.

Finally, he reached the kid's apartment and knocked on the door. After waiting for a few minutes and receiving no answer, he tried again. He frowned to himself, wondering if the kid was out though it seemed unlikely. Grateful that there were no loiterers on Peter's floor, Tony reached into his pocket and pulled out the spare key that May had insisted he take in case of emergencies, remembering her warning that you had to 'sort of jiggle it in the lock'.

With a click, the lock gave and Tony let himself into the seemingly empty apartment. He glanced around the living-room and kitchen to find no sign of life. "Pete?" he called uncertainly, as he closed the door behind him. When there was no answer, he strode further into the small apartment, peering into every corner.

"Peter, are you here?" he shouted, eventually finding himself outside of the room that he and Peter had gone into when he had asked May for five minutes with the kid. He knocked, not sure what to expect but the quiet whimper he heard was definitely not it. With a frown, he opened the door.

Tony had noted the last time that he had been in Peter's room that it seemed unusually tidy for a teenager's bedroom. Sure, it had been cluttered with his retro tech and his books and all, but it seemed that everything had its place. There was no junk or dirty washing lying on the floor. Now, it looked as though every item of Peter's wardrobe had been dumped in a huge pile in the centre of the room. He glanced around, noting the tangle of blankets on top of his bed, and finally, Tony noted the crushed and warped remains of the kid's phone dropped on the floor.

"What the…?" he began quietly when he heard another whine. Tony tensed, turning towards the sound and he found himself facing Peter's wardrobe. He stepped towards it and pulled the door open, blinking in surprise.

Peter was curled up, head tucked into his knees and his hands covering his ears. From what Tony could see, the kid had nothing on but a pair of boxers. Tony crouched down, reaching a hand out to press on the kid's shoulder but when his fingertips made contact, Peter flinched and gasped. Tony retracted his hand like he had been shocked and tried to ignore the stab of hurt he felt at the kid's reaction.

Unsure of what to do, Tony tapped a finger against the leg of his glasses. "FRIDAY, scan," he instructed, wincing as Peter let out yet another whimper when he spoke.

After a moment, FRIDAY gave her results with unusual quietness. "Mr Parker's heart rate and blood pressure are elevated. With his responses to external stimuli, it seems that he is experiencing sensory overload."

Tony's eyes widened as another memory from his last visit hit him full force. 'It's just that when whatever happened happened, it's like my senses have been dialled to eleven. There's… there's way too much input.'

The genius bit his lip to refrain from letting out the curse on the tip of his tongue. Instead, he pushed himself back to his feet and lowered his voice to a whisper. "I'm going to try and fix this, kid. I'll be right back." Relieved to see that Peter didn't flinch this time, he slowly closed the door of the wardrobe and made his way back into the living-room, dropping onto the sofa.

"FRIDAY, can you send Happy the address for the nearest store that sells soundproof headphones. Tell him what to get, ask him to bring them here, up to the apartment," Tony paused as he thought through any issues that might arise. "Can you ask him to take them out of the packaging before he comes up, and when he comes up, tell him to let himself in- not to knock under any circumstances- and to be as quiet as possible."

"Sure thing, boss," the AI replied.

The billionaire wasn't entirely sure that the headphones would work for the spiderling but they were sure to at least limit the input and that had to be a start. That only left the other four senses to take care of.

Tony stood once more and headed back towards the bedroom, this time heading towards the pile of clothes that Peter had evidently tossed out of his wardrobe in order to make room for himself and to avoid coming into contact with the different textiles. Now, Iron Man found himself rummaging through the pile, searching for the items least likely to aggravate the teen's heightened tactile sensitivity. He found the baggy T-shirt he had bought him when he had stripped him of his suit, and a pair of cotton sweatpants. Satisfied with his choice, he moved back towards the wardrobe.

"Peter," he whispered, "I need you to come out of the wardrobe. I've got some stuff to try."

The words had been barely a whisper and said through the closed door but a moment later, the door pushed open and slowly, Peter unfolded himself and stood in front of his mentor. As soon as he was upright, Tony whipped off his own glasses, murmuring, "FRIDAY, limit visual input to 10%," before pressing the shades onto Peter. For a moment, the teenager tensed but suddenly, he relaxed with an audible sigh.

"Better?" Tony asked quietly, and he felt his own tension melt away when the kid nodded. "Okay," he pressed on. "You can't sit in your underwear- put these on." He held the clothes out towards Peter, who instinctively took a half step back towards the wardrobe but Tony mirrored him and reluctantly, the kid took them, slipping into the clothes and flinching as he did so.

As he slid the T-shirt over his head, Peter suddenly tensed again, his head turning towards the bedroom door. Tony edged forward, noting the heavy footsteps that were drawing closer, and opened the door to reveal Happy. The head of security frowned and opened his mouth but Tony shook his head, taking the headphones from the man's hands and stepping back into the room and placing them over Peter's head. The kid sighed again, his shoulders dropping down and Tony smiled. Without a word, he pointed at a pair of trainers next to the door but Peter turned away, his eyes scanning the floor until they landed on a pair of flip-flops, which he slid his feet into before turning expectantly to his mentor.

Tony scanned the room, eyes roving over the pile of clothes but he didn't seem to find what he was looking for. Finally, he shrugged out of his own jacket and held it towards Peter. When the teenager didn't move, his mentor simply stepped closer and manoeuvred the kid into the jacket himself. He stepped back, nodding to himself, before pointing towards the bedroom door where Happy still hovered uncertainly.

"Move," he instructed. The two geniuses simply stared at each other for several minutes before Peter reluctantly stepped towards the door. "Lead the way, Happy," Tony added before he fell into step behind the teen.

Their strange formation made their way out of the building, earning some confused glances from the people they passed on the way and Peter flinching every so often when they passed any particularly loud apartments.

Once outside, Happy opened the back door of the car and Peter slid inside. There was no-one else within the vehicle to see his large wince when the door was slammed shut behind him.

"Tony, what's going on?" Happy demanded as soon as the kid was in the car. "Is he ill? If he is, you shouldn't be making him-!"

"He's having a sensory overload," Tony interrupted. "He was inside his wardrobe in only his underwear when I went in there. I need to find a way to help him. All of that," he waved a hand towards the car, "is just a temporary fix. He can still hear with those headphones on. I want to make sure he's okay while I try and work this out."

Happy glanced towards the door that he had just slammed behind Peter, the crease between his eyebrows betraying his concern.

"You don't have to worry, Hap. I'm going to fix this," Tony told him with a soft smile.

Abruptly, Happy's face shifted back to his signature frown. "Why would I be worried?" he muttered stubbornly, opening the driver's door and ducking inside, as Tony made his way to the other side and slid in beside Peter.

Peter had once again curled up, his head dipped towards his shoulder and his nose tucked into Tony's jacket. The billionaire ignored the flutter in his chest and resisted the urge to brush the kid's hair off of his brow. Instead, he said softly, "Drive slow, Hap."

Blinking his eyes slowly, Peter realized he must have fallen asleep in the car. Suddenly, the memories came flooding back and he sat upright with a jolt. He went to rub his hand over his eyes when he felt frames over his face. He gently pulled off the glasses, revealing a pair of Mr Stark's sunglasses. Peter gulped, feeling the heat crawl over his face. He glanced around, noting that he was in the lounge of the compound.

"Good evening, Peter," FRIDAY's voice startled him despite how muffled it seemed. "Boss has been informed that you are awake. He is on his way up."

Peter frowned, trying to get his bearings. He had been at home. Everything had been too much- too bright, too loud, too scratchy, too pungent. He had gone in the wardrobe to try and dull everything down. Mr Stark had found him. Mr Stark had found him!

Before Peter could become overwhelmed by that embarrassing realization, he heard his mentor's voice, though whispered. "Hey kid!"

Peter turned, and noticed that Tony was closer than he would have expected. Without waiting for a response, his mentor reached towards him and pulled off the headphones that Peter had forgotten were there, before sitting next to him. "How are you feeling?"

"Um…," Peter began unsure how to answer. He frowned as he tried to assess how he really felt before meeting Tony's gaze and settling for a shrug.

Tony frowned though it seemed more concerned than annoyed. "How are the senses?" he prompted.

Peter sighed, "Better, thanks." He paused unsure what else to say before asking, "What time is it?"

"It's just after half seven," Tony answered. Peter's eyes widened, his mouth opened but Tony jumped in. "I've called May. You're staying here."

The kid's mouth closed but his eyes remained wide. They remained silent for a few minutes before Tony stood. "You want something to eat?"

He was surprised when Peter shook his head. The kid never turned down food but Peter had paled at the suggestion. When Tony raised an eyebrow questioningly, Peter mumbled, "They're better but they're not quite back at eleven yet."

Tony was about to ask when Peter had last eaten, pretty certain it was some time yesterday but he decided not to press the issue. Instead, he reached a hand out towards Peter. "Come on then," he said. "We have some stuff to look at in the workshop."

Hesitantly, Peter took the proffered hand and let his mentor pull him to his feet and steer him towards the elevator, and Tony was grateful that Peter was no longer resisting physical contact. It wasn't something Tony sought very often but he knew Peter did and it had made him uneasy seeing how uncomfortable the teen had been with it earlier.

As the doors opened, Tony led the way towards a workbench with several items laid out.

"How often does it get that bad?" he asked, dropping onto a stool next to the bench and indicating that Peter should do the same.

The teenager stared at the wood in front of him. He had guessed this conversation was coming but he still didn't want to have it. "Not often," he said slowly. "That's the worst one for ages. Maybe since the spider bite. It does happen though, now and again."

"What caused it?"

"There were some broken lights at the school we went to for the decathlon heat yesterday. They kept flickering. And there were a lot of people so it was really loud. I thought I'd be fine after I'd slept but I couldn't- there was too much…," Peter trailed off, unsure how to explain that everything had been too much- his entire building and everything going on around it.

Tony nodded, his lips pressed into a firm line. "I wish you had told me," he said, voice soft. "Then we could have been prepared. But we will be for next time."

Peter's head snapped up to look at Tony, who was watching him carefully. Without taking his eyes off of his protégé, he reached across the bench and pulled a pair of shades over. He held them towards Peter. "These are integrated with Karen," he told him. "You decide how much you want to limit the input, just like I asked FRIDAY to do earlier."

The adolescent took the glasses wordlessly, gazing at them and then at his mentor. Tony didn't wait for him to form a coherent sentence before he was picking up the next item. "These headphones are soundproofed- the technology should block everything, even for you. However, like with the glasses, you'll be able to use Karen. Your AI will be the only audio that can permeate them, even during an overload."

Again, he held them towards Peter but the teen still held the glasses and made no move to take the headphones. Instead he stared at them in his mentor's hands as he chewed his bottom lip. Finally, he looked up at Tony.

"Mr Stark," he began, "you shouldn't have done this. It's too much. I'm sorry to have caused so much trouble."

Tony frowned as Peter carefully placed the shades back on the workbench and dropped his gaze to his lap but he said nothing, waiting to see the kid's next move.

As the silence stretched on, the teenager slowly pushed himself to his feet. "I'm really sorry, Mr Stark. I'll, uh, I'll just go. Thanks for… checking on me and uh, for helping me. I real-!"

"Nuh-uh, stop right there and sit back down," Tony cut him off.

Peter's gaze snapped to his mentor's who was giving him a such a stern look, he did as instructed without much conscious thought and waited for the genius to speak.

"First of all, you have nothing to apologise for. Secondly, you are going to accept these because I have worked my ass off in this workshop today to make something that would work for you. I didn't do that for the hell of it- I did it because I saw you in pain and I want to help make sure you don't have to endure that again. So these," Tony reached for the shades and held them between himself and Peter along with the headphones that were still in his hands, "will help and you are going to use them when you need to."

With that, Tony placed them on the workbench in front of Peter before leaning back and crossing his arms across his chest. He watched the emotions playing across the kid's face and thought what a blessing it was the kid wore a mask with his suit- his face was an open book.

Finally, the kid met Tony's gaze. "Um, thanks, Mr Stark," he murmured. "I'm sure they'll really help me next time."

Tony nodded then reached across the table. "There's not much I can do for taste, touch and smell," he stated. "Although, judging from your reaction when I mentioned food earlier, I guess that one is maybe the easiest to deal with." He glanced at Peter who had pressed his lips into a thin line, face a little paler than it had been a minute earlier.

"Here," the billionaire said, thrusting the next item towards the teen. Peter unfolded the item and his eyes widened once more.

"This is…," he breathed out, running his fingers over the material.

"An MIT hoodie. My MIT hoodie, to be more precise," Tony finished for him.

Instantly, Peter was trying to push the material back towards his mentor but Tony stood, stepping back and shaking his head.

"No, Pete," he told him. "Take it. You need material that won't irritate you. My MIT sweaters and hoodies are the comfiest ones I own. And I have lots, so you're going to take three."

"Mr Stark, I couldn't… they're yours. You know, I- I haven't earned them," he stammered, his gaze flickering between the jumper and its owner like he was watching a tennis match.

Tony sighed. "Peter, I'm telling you. I have plenty. Besides, I think that will help with calming your sense of smell too." Peter tilted his head at him, evidently confused. "I noticed you buried your nose in the material of my jacket earlier. I'm guessing it was easier to focus on one smell than many."

As the blush crept over the kid's face, Tony decided not to add his other theory- that the familiar smell from the jacket might also have been comforting. Tony figured it was probably best for both of them if they didn't address that.

"Th… thank you, Mr Stark," Peter murmured, lowering his gaze.

A comfortable silence filled the workshop but Tony felt as though he had more than filled his emotional quota for the day. Clearing his throat, he said, "Right, well, I think you need some more sleep, Spiderling. We'll leave these here and you can pick them up tomorrow."

With that, he plucked the jumper from Peter's hands and placed it next to the shades and headphones on the workbench, tugging lightly on the teenager's arm to encourage him back to his feet and steer him towards the elevator.

Peter yelped. "But Mr Stark," he whined. "I've slept almost all day. I'm not tired."

"The bags under your eyes tell me differently, Underroos," he asserted. "Bed. Lab time tomorrow."

As he directed Peter to his room, he felt the teenager gradually leaning more and more weight on him. He could only smile down at the kid. He'd be alright. They both would.