This fills prompt eleven for whumptober: crying, struggling, defiance. Thank you for reading!

Peter didn't know what to do so he did the only thing he could. He panicked and ran out the door. He wheezed against the quick motions of his feet. The cold tile was like a bucket of cold water to his body and his mind snapped to attention.

Tony – not Tony – yelled after him but he didn't stop. Peter made it down the hall before he heard footsteps and an IV pole trailing after him. His smile curled higher despite the butterflies in his stomach. He stepped into an alcove whose walls were filled with self-help pamphlets. The blanket fell off of his shoulders as he pressed himself against the wall. His gown fell down along with it leaving his shoulder bare. He didn't move to cover himself up and suffered through the shivers wracking his body.

None of this made sense. The blood loss and damage to his head must have been worse than he thought. It was the only logical explanation. All the evidence stuffed his brain until all stream of thought abandoned him. He stayed there leaning against the wall as the wheels of the IV came closer.

Shadows passed by on the floor, walking past him, and then the owner of the shadow stepped into view. The short shadows of hair on his face had the beginnings of a small goatee. He stepped closer to Peter and picked up the blanket drooping on the floor to secure it up around his shoulder.

"I'm sorry. It's been an off day, well year to be honest. Rhodey is always telling me to control my temper and once again he's proven right. You were hiding from something right? Come back to my room and we can talk. I have some contraband hot chocolate in there and to be honest, kid, you look like you could use some."

Peter blinked but was helpless against the arm around his shoulder. They walked in quick, quiet steps. Both sets of eyes on watch for any rogue nurse or doctor on the night shift until they were safe behind Tony's closed door. Tony settled back on his bed.

"Sit here." He said with a wave of his hand in a casual manner at the end of the bed. Peter stopped for a moment, looking between the chair and bed. But again, he felt his lack of intelligent thought keenly. He sat on the bed, crossed legged at the end, staring Tony.

Was it him? Everything he'd seen so far led him to believe it had to be him.

But then again, it wasn't him at the same time.

"So, let's start with the first thing. I'm Tony and you are?"

"Peter. Peter Parker."

"Circumstances could have been better but nice to meet you." Peter nodded and avoided his eyes. The brown flecks were so familiar but lacked the warm expression in them. This Tony, or whoever, was a stranger. Peter had a feeling the other one had never been one to begin with. "So, what are you in for?"

"Huh?"

"Why are you in the hospital?" A smirk played on his lips and Peter's neck grew hot.

"Oh. I, that is, I fell."

"You fell?"

"Into a lake."

"You fell into a lake?"

"That's what I said wasn't it?" He snapped. Tony had the decency to look apologetic though Peter noticed that he didn't apologize for the pestering.

"How'd that happen?"

This line of questioning was going to be the tricky part. He didn't know how to respond and his brain was thoroughly checked out so he decided to go with the simplest answer and the one he would be most likely to remember in time. The truth at least in part.

"I was attacked – chased- and I got hurt. I was cornered on the dock and it was an accident. I fell into the water. It was cold but calm down there." He shivered as something stirred in his memory. "It was calm until… until it wasn't. Something must have stirred up the sand! It was everywhere and there was so much blood until everything went black. Then I was here and it's so strange here and you look so different."

Another shiver wracked his body and he hunched in on himself. Tony leaned forward and put his hand on Peter's knee. His eyebrows were furrowed as he thought about what Peter said. He could only imagine what he looked like. Some strange kid running around the hospital, breaking into rooms, and then running away again. But Tony wasn't treating him like he was delicate. There was concern in his eyes but a curious glint to get to know the truth as well.

"Easy there. I'm sorry. That totally sucks. It must have been scary, too. Do you…" Tony swallowed. "Where are your parents?"

"They're dead." He said flatly.

The questions were enough to trigger a cacophony of memories. He was back in the hospital standing in the waiting room. Hospital staff rushed by but he was left there surrounded by empty chairs. His aunt and uncle arrived and though they smiled at him, their eyes were filled with tears. Their arms wrapped around him so tight, like they thought he wouldn't crack under any amount of pressure. Little did they know their embrace was the only thing keeping him from falling apart. It was the last time he saw his parents before the funeral and the first day he went to live with his extended family.

And now in some warped twist of time he was back in a hospital.

"I'm sorry. Mine, too."

Tony shrugged and quickly looked down at the blankets but not before Peter saw the hurt in his eyes. They held the same dull expression Peter saw for months in his new bathroom of his aunt and uncle's apartment.

"You're pretty young, aren't you?"

"I'm sixteen. You?"

Peter yawned and Tony frowned again. The restless energy from before his second escape attempt had faded leaving a vague unrest in his stomach and heavy eyes.

"Hey, it's late. Why don't you try and get some sleep? Don't worry," He said addressing Peter's glance at the door. "I'll keep watch if someone comes. They won't bother you in here."

At least this evenings toll on his brain was consistent. Peter didn't even spare another glance at the door when he nodded. Tony tossed down a pillow and Peter curled up along the bottom half of the bed. The room was warmer than his room, his limbs were sore, and this would be the perfect place to hid from everyone. The CPS and any other appointments never would think to find him here. Maybe he wasn't so bad at escaping, he thought with a small smile. All he had to do was leave in the morning and his escape was complete.

Tony must have turned the TV on and Peter listened half asleep as the news played.

"President Clinton, who is Gennifer Flowers?"

Something tugged at his consciousness. Something important but the sandman had spun his sand too well that night and Peter fell asleep with a revelation tugging at his mind - at the tip of his tongue.

"Holy Shit."

Peter sat up without regard for anything around him. His head was spinning and he planted both hands on the blankets surrounding him. The morning sun filtered into the room. The bed as bigger than the one in his room and the room itself had a more spacious design while looking fancier too. These were all things Peter would have noticed if his mind, miraculously recovered from last night's vacation of his brain, hadn't been putting together everything from the past couple days.

President Clinton.

Shrek rocking out to Queen.

The sweater vests.

Tony!

He was, somehow and inexplicably, not in 2017 anymore. It was insane and unthinkable, but he was convinced. Peter had traveled to the past.

He started to hyperventilate. The short bursts of air sent his head spinning dizzy. Too many questions and not enough answers raged in his mind. Peter tried to remember every detail that could prove him wrong. He stared at his clenched fists with a scowl. This was all wrong. How was this real? Surely, there was a reasonable explanation. Surely, he would wake up tomorrow in the blue room.

Peter began crying. The large tears dripped down his face onto the blankets staining them with flecks of dark grey. Loneliness was often a plague he dealt with. It found him in the silent waiting room and followed him, dogging his steps. When Ben was gone it was there. When May died it was there, waiting like an old companion. He'd grown fond of the weariness in some way. It was a familiar comfort to have. The ache in his stomach gave him a place in the world, a feeling to hold onto. All of that was gone. There was an absence now where the ache was. He clenched his fists tighter and couldn't feel the sting of his nails against his palms. It was all wrong. He didn't belong here.

Something wrapped around his shoulder.

Tony's hand.

"Hey there, it's going to be okay."

"No." Peter moaned and fell forward. His head hit the soft bedding. He almost wished it hit him harder. "I can't… I can't…"

"It's going to be okay, Peter. Trust me."

Peter screamed into his pillow, pounding his fist onto the bed again and again.

"No!" he yelled sitting up to stare at Tony who was standing beside the bed in a hospital gown and socks. He looked so young and Peter knew why. Tears began anew. He heaved a breath. It caught in his throat and ignited a coughing fit. Tony was there in an instant with tissues. He rubbed his hand up and down Peter's back, hesitant and awkward in his comfort.

Somehow, he ended up leaning boneless against Tony. His breathing was deep but uneven as he came to grips of his new reality. He felt incredibly fragile after his outburst. Like the only thing keeping him together were the rigid arms around him. Tony's back was stiff and Peter could tell from his body language how uncomfortable he was but it didn't matter. He was still there trying to help him.

"Are you worried about CPS?" Tony said quietly. "I, don't be mad but I tried to look you up last night and couldn't find anything on you. Are you hiding from the people who tried to attack you?"

Peter was so damn tired. The movies taught him the rules of time travel but the problem was each movie had its own rules. He didn't know what was the correct thing to say so he nodded. Tony squeezed their hands together. His eyes calculated observed him and Peter watched as he came to some conclusion. Tony nodded at him before getting up.

"Alright, I'll help. You stay here and don't leave. I've got this room to myself without any interference. I've got an appointment later today but I will be back with all the paperwork. Stay here, Peter. I promise it will be okay."

With one last searching look, Tony turned and left the room. Peter barely noticed he was still in the hospital gown for his expression was so similar to the one from old Tony. He was alone again. The sounds of the TV played on but he didn't pay attention. All of his plans went out the window when he found this room and its occupant. Determination and hope all rolled into one could be a scary and effective combination.

He rolled onto his side to stare out the window. His eyes wilted shut and the room faded from view. The last thought he had was at least he didn't have to worry about running into his past self as he had not yet been born. Peter hiccuped and wondered what he'd gotten himself into.

Thank you all for reading.

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