Peter knew he should've gone back to the compound as soon as he left the warehouse, his abdomen was on fire from where he had been sliced by Harry's glider and his arm was burning and blood was still oozing down his hand every time he alternated swinging. Not to mention that he didn't even have his mask anymore, and it took Peter a moment to slowly realize that it didn't matter because his identity's been out ever since the apartment fight. He could faintly hear the echoes of people calling his name as he blindly made his way through the city in a desperate attempt to get as far away as he could from the haunting nightmare that he had left behind. Without his mask, he didn't have KAREN and he had given his Stark Watch to Ned before he had left. He half wondered if the Avengers had even noticed he had left, and if they had, were they out looking for him? Either way, Peter didn't have any form of contact, and if he was honest with himself, he wasn't sure if he wanted it anyway.
The last minutes of Harry's life fading in front of him kept playing on repeat in his mind, the cackling laughter of his betrayer, the intrusive thoughts of blaming Peter for killing him.
You know what they say about liars, Pete? Hang his tongue from a telephone wire...
They might've found you amusing for a while, the people of this city. But the one thing they love more than a hero is to see a hero fall... fail... die trying.
In a way, Harry was right, and it terrified him. Peter had let his anger get loose and it had created this monster. A monster that blinded Peter with rage to the point where he almost killed Harry out of cold blood. What would the world think if they had found out that Peter almost gave in to his dark side? What would Ned think? Or Tony? The Avengers? May, Alex, and George? Would they see him as a broken kid who treaded in too deep waters, or would they see him for the screw-up he truly was?
What would Ben have thought? Peter's heart broke at that and the tightrope he was walking on was beginning to snap. He was going to break, and there was no way he was going to be able to stop it. He was going to break, and this time no one would be there to catch him.
Liar, liar, liar, The word kept playing in Peter's head, the tone getting nastier each time it echoed in his mind.
Peter swung aimlessly through the city, unsure of where he was going or if he even had a destination in mind. Eventually, he blinked and suddenly found himself sitting at the edge of Ben's grave, staring at the stone that provided the only physical evidence that someone resided there. He should've known he'd find himself here, he always had the tendency to go there when things got too much. In a messed up way, it became his quiet place and it was because he craved the comfort of the one person who had always found some way to make the pain go away. The one person who was no longer there to hold him when things got rough.
"Uncle Ben..." Peter croaked past the lump in his throat. "What have I done?" Who have I become?
Pulling his legs into his chest, Peter ignored the burning in his abdomen and buried his head into his knees as the tears blurred his vision.
Flashes of the past washed over him, the memories of him and Harry playing tag in the park while May and Harry's mother, Emily, sat on a bench, talking amongst themselves. Harry and him going to their first Broadway show of the Lion King and Harry kind-heartedly teasing Peter when he cried when Mufasa died and Simba was left all alone. Him and Harry growing old enough for Harry to teach him about the joys of basketball and catching a football. Peter holding Harry in a strong embrace when the other boy found out his mother was slowly dying of cancer...
When did things go so wrong? Peter let out a restrained sob at the thought. What did I do to deserve any of this? When did the person I know become a monster blinded by rage?
Peter felt like he was trapped between emotional states, his entire physical body feeling numb and hollow, but it felt like his insides were being torn apart piece by piece. Part of him wanted to cry, but another part of him was scared that if he had let go he wouldn't be able to stop even if he tried. Eventually, Peter found himself resting his chin on his knees as he looked blankly at his uncle's gravestone as if it had all of the answers that he needed.
He knew the exact moment when he wasn't alone anymore, but Peter didn't have the energy to react, and instead just stared forward and tried to fight off the raging emotions that were inside of him. He didn't want to drown, but he felt like his head was slowly sinking below the surface no matter how much he tried to stay afloat. He didn't stir when a blanket was wrapped around his shoulders, fighting off the chill of the October night's air. His eyes flickered off to the side and saw his mentor coming to sit next to him, turning his body so he was facing Peter.
"Kid..." Tony sounded just as wrecked as Peter did.
That one word was enough to break Peter's resolve. Sobs began to break through, past his weakened emotional restraint, and before Peter knew what was happening he became submerged in the riptide of the waves in his mind. Arms wrapped around his shoulders and pulled him in. Tony tucked Peter's head under his chin so Peter could cry into his father figure's chest, his sobs hysterical as everything came flowing out of him at once. Peter was half aware of his hand scrabbling against Tony's nanotech armor, desperate for some sort of anchor and one of Tony's hands moved so that he grasped onto Peter's searching hand with a steadying grip. They stayed like that for a while, Peter sobbing and breaking against all of the injustices that had been thrown his way, grieving for someone who had been dead a long time ago, grieving against a betrayal that Peter never dreamed was possible. Tony just held onto him, anchoring him to reality and providing a support beam to remind Peter that he wasn't drowning. Someone had been there to save him from the hands that were dragging him down into the dark abyss. Someone had been there to catch him when he had finally fell.
By the time the tears receded, the adrenaline from everything that had just happened had left him in one quick wave, leaving Peter feeling completely drained. It was like he was trapped in the twilight zone, halfway between being unconscious and halfway between being awake. He was still faintly aware of everything going on around him, could feel the burn in his abdomen and arm from where the blood had crusted on his flesh, but he didn't have any energy to do anything but just rest his head against Tony's chest with his eyes half-lidded.
He became aware of Tony trying to talk to him, of the billionaire pulling Peter away to look at his face. Peter could see Tony's mouth moving, but any noise coming his way had just bounced off the waves that were roaring in Peter's ears. Eventually, arms came to rest under Peter's knees and on his back, and then Peter was airborne. The ground became further away and Peter could feel wind bouncing off the blanket that was cocooned tightly around him, almost as if it was being used as a shield to protect him. He knew that he should probably be freaking out about Tony Stark carrying him like a child as he flew past the city, the clouds beginning to hide the lights below, but Tony's strong grip made him feel protected more than anything else.
He must've faded in and out throughout the trip back upstate, because when Tony gently landed onto the floor of the Compound, Peter realized his eyes had been closed and he felt comfortingly warm. There were footsteps that were running up to them and he tried to make out what the voices were saying, but Peter was quickly losing the battle to remain conscious. He opened his eyes half-heartedly to make out the faint image of Bruce leaning over him as Tony carried him inside, Sam and Bucky getting up from the couch to run over to them.
"Peter?" Tony's quiet voice broke through the haze in his mind. "I got you."
I'm not going anywhere, Peter could make out the meaning behind his mentor's words before he lost the battle and fell into the tempting grasps of unconsciousness.
When Peter came back to the land of the living, it was to that annoying beeping sound that seemed to echo off of his enhanced senses, Peter's head pounding from the sensitivity of it all. It was almost too overwhelming and it made Peter's sore body crawl. He knew he was back in the infirmary, and he shouldn't have been surprised, but everything was too much. The sterile smell of the room piercing through Peter's skull and the beeping making Peter wonder if his ears were bleeding from the constant tempo. He let out a pained groan as his hands came to cradle his head.
"Peter?" A familiar female voice made Peter's heart skip a beat.
He went to open his eyes but hissed out in discomfort when the intensity was too much.
"Dammit," May cursed quietly. "FRIDAY, initiate Spider-Overload protocol."
Almost immediately, the lights in the room dimmed considerably and the beeping of the machines lowered to a bearable level. Opening his eyes once more, Peter's eyes flickered across the room and took in his surroundings. He was no longer in his Spider-Man suit and instead was wearing a pair of black joggers and a baggy rustic red MIT sweater that emanated the familiar scent of coffee and cologne that Peter associated with Tony. He could feel the gauze on his abdomen and his arm was wrapped in a white bandage from where he hand been sliced. Finally, his gazed flickered over to a tired-looking May who was sitting next to Peter's bed, still in her navy blue scrubs.
"May?" Peter croaked before he winced at the scratching sensation in the back of his throat.
She smiled sadly at him, "Hey, sweetie." Reaching beside her, May picked up a glass of water from the bedside table before helping Peter sit up enough to take a few sips. As soon as May pulled away, Peter laid back down, still feeling drained of energy.
May didn't stray too far, she curled closer to Peter's bedside, and grabbed his hand, her grip gentle, but comforting.
Memories flickered in Peter's mind and he closed his eyes against the onslaught of the mental images of Harry's sickened fervor and his dying words. Part of him wanted to cry again, but he just didn't have the energy in him to do so. Instead he looked over at May, "I'm so sorry."
May shook her head adamantly. "You don't have to apologize for anything."
"But Alex..." Peter began. "It was my fault."
May cut him off with a firm squeeze of his hand. "Alex is going to be okay. And what happened to him was not your fault, Peter."
"But Harry..."
"Did something unforgivable, and I am so sorry that you had to go through that," May's eyes were glossy. "George and I... We don't blame you for anything."
"Alex is okay?" Peter asked tearfully.
May nodded, "He'll some scars, but Dr. Cho... She was able to help him, but you, Peter... You saved him."
"He was there because of me. I hurt him..."
"Stop," May said sharply. "Harry hurt him, but you saved him."
Peter closed his eyes and took in a few shaky breaths. Then he opened them once more, dreading the question he was going to ask. "MJ?"
"Ned got a call from her, she's okay, and so is everyone you saved at the bridge," May had a prideful glint in her eyes. "She was asking about you."
Peter scoffed, choked up. "'Course she was... May, my identity..."
"Don't worry about that right now, okay?" May interjected kindly. "One step at a time, yeah?"
"But..."
"Peter, seriously, another thought for another day. Focus on what's in the present right now, okay?"
Peter, who didn't realize he was beginning to hyperventilate until his head began to pound, tried to even out his breathing. When he was able to rein in his emotions, even if they were still trying their hardest to spill out, he asked, "What happened after..."
"The Avengers... They went on a rescue mission when FRIDAY told them about the news at the bridge," May told him truthfully. "They were able to trace the fight, but by the time they got there, they couldn't find you. Um... Natasha and Clint, they found Harry."
Peter flinched at the mention of Harry's demise.
May, who sensed Peter's reaction, reached out with her other hand and ran it through Peter's hair. "You weren't there so they just kept searching. Tony was the one who found you, he brought you back here."
"Was he mad?" Peter looked up at the ceiling, his eyes stinging.
"They weren't happy at first, and I wasn't either." May admitted. "But they were just worried, we all were. You've got them wrapped around your finger, you know that right?"
"I never wanted any of this to happen," Peter said sadly.
"Sometimes bad things happen to people who try their best to do the right thing. It wasn't fair... But you can't blame yourself for this, you couldn't have known."
"I should've," Peter disagreed. "My sixth sense and Ned... They both seemed to be suspicious of the one person I was just so desperate to trust... May, I got scared, I lost control..."
"You got betrayed by someone you've known since you were five, Peter, anger like that is completely warranted," May cut in.
"But you don't understand... I almost..." Peter's voice broke.
"But you didn't," May told him sternly.
"He tried to kill me," Peter confessed. "He called his glider and I just dodged it. I didn't know that it would..."
"He killed himself, Peter," May was sad. "You were just defending yourself."
"But I wanted to do it and I almost did," Peter repeated. "And I hate myself for it."
"You snapped out of it. That's what matter's, Pete, and that just shows that your heart is still in the right place."
Peter fell quiet for a moment, trying to fight through the fatigue and the emotional burn that the events had left behind. "I thought Ben would've been the voice telling me to stop."
May looked curious at that. "Who was it?"
Peter's eyes flickered over to May's face when he said, "It was Alex."
May's eyes filled with tears at that and she gave him a watery smile. "You two would die for each other, wouldn't you?"
Peter returned the grin, also on the verge of tears. "We make quite the duo, don't we?"
May shook her head in amusement, "I'm so glad that you two..." She trailed off, but Peter knew what she meant.
"Me too," Peter told her honestly, the fatigue catching up to him once more as his senses continued to make his head pound.
May must've been able to read the discomfort on Peter's face because her eyes softened. "I'm gonna have Dr. Banner give you some sedatives for the senses, okay? You need to rest."
Peter felt like he should've fought harder against it, part of him scared of the dreams that he was sure to encounter, but the pain in his head had won that fight in the end. By the time, Bruce came by to administer to pain medication, Peter was already drifting off back into the waves of unconsciousness.
Harry's cackling laughter echoed in his ears and the scene before Peter manifested into the warehouse with the Goblin impaled against the brick wall, his glaze and empty eyes holding a sinister glint.
"Murderous Peter Parker... Look at that, the Spider-Man has come out to play," Harry's zombified face was enough to make Peter take a step back in horror.
"Has anyone found out yet? Liar, liar... Pants on fire... Hang his tongue from a telephone wire," Harry sang before branching off into a wicked chuckle. "It doesn't take much to make it rain, Pete. The itsy bitsy spider will fall down the water spout one way or another..."
"Shut up!" Peter pleaded, falling to his knees as he clasped his hands desperately against his ears, trying to block out the Goblin's haunting laughter.
"Peter!"
"Peter!"
Peter gasped awake, shooting into a sitting position as he struggled to catch his breath against the sobs that were escaping him. Harry's infamous laugh was still echoing in his head and he couldn't breathe. He couldn't...
"Peter, come on," A familiar baritone voice sounded panicked and hands descended on his shoulders. The sudden gesture made Peter flinch, his skin too sensitive to the pressure and the hands immediately retracted with a curse.
"Kid, it's just me, okay? I won't let anything happen to you, it's just me," The voice pleaded and Peter latched onto the noise like a life line. First it was the voice and then the familiar heartbeat that had Peter had unhealthily let himself get attached to as a source of comfort. The waves in his head receded as Peter came down from the highs of the nightmare and a calloused hand came to rest at the base of his neck, further anchoring him back down to reality.
Reaching out blindly, Peter grabbed a fistful of their shirt and pulled them close, burying his face in their chest so that his ear rested directly above their heartbeat.
"That's right, Pete, I've got you," Tony's quiet voice reassured him and Peter just closed his eyes as he breathed in the scent of his father figure, smelling the strong scent of coffee and Tony's subtle cologne, the latter seeming as if it was days old. But it was still there.
You're safe, you're in the compound, Peter repeated to himself. You're safe. Harry can't get to you anymore...
When Peter's breathing returned to normal, there were a few more things he became aware of. One of which was that the sterile smell of the infirmary was gone along with the consistent beeping of the heart monitor. The bed that he was also laying on was far too comfortable to be the hospital bed he had been laying on before. The second thing that he noticed was that there were other heartbeats echoing around the room. Four to be exact. Four that weren't his and Tony's.
Nuzzling further into Tony, Peter wanted to hide from what was happening around him. Hiding from the fact that there were four other people that Peter hated to have broken down in front of even though he rationally knew they would never judge him for it.
"Did he fall back asleep?" A quiet tenor voice wondered sadly.
"No," Peter answered quietly.
"Oh," They replied lamely.
Peter sighed and opened his eyes, pulling away from Tony so he could wipe at his face with the sleeves of the hoodie that he was wearing. Tony didn't stray far and instead allowed his hand to remain resting at the nape of Peter's neck, acting as an anchor to remind Peter of where he was and to stop him from slipping back into the grips of another attack. Looking around the room, Peter took in the sight of Clint perched on the couch near the window in the far corner of Peter's guest bedroom. Steve and Bucky were sitting tiredly in makeshift chairs at the foot of Peter's bed and Natasha was watching him from the corner of the room. Any other time, Peter would've been flattered at such an open display of affection, but it was rather overwhelming to have 5 Avengers staring him down.
Don't be selfish, you scared them, Peter chided himself.
"You back with us?" Tony broke the silence, his voice raspy as if he had been crying too.
Peter looked at Tony and just nodded, pulling his legs into a criss-cross position as his gaze fell to his lap.
"Do you want us to go?" Steve's timid voice asked.
Do I? Peter couldn't help but wonder. It was overwhelming, yes, but Peter would be lying to himself if he said it wasn't oddly comforting too.
"No," Peter admitted, looking up to glance between the five of them. They were all silent for awhile, as if they were waiting for Peter to make the first move. Finally he worked up the nerve to say, "I'm sorry."
Tony sighed, "Peter..."
"I really am, but I'm also not," Peter shrugged. "I didn't want to scare any of you."
"We might not be happy with the way things got handled..." Tony began.
"I know, but I guess...I just needed to do it. I needed to do it for me," Peter met Tony's eyes, his face completely resigned.
Tony's face broke at that, "I know."
"There weren't any casualties at the bridge," Natasha walked over to sit on the corner of the king sized bed. "Even in the car pile up."
"Those kids though..." Peter closed his eyes sadly.
"Were saved because of you," Clint cut him off. "It could've been a lot worse if you weren't there when you were."
"Back up might've been a good idea," Tony remarked, but flinched when Natasha leaned over to smack his leg. "Okay, geez, too soon?"
That caused a watery chuckle to escape Peter, "Maybe..."
"We're sorry we weren't there when you needed us," Steve looked heartbroken.
Peter shook his head, "I'm not sure how I would've reacted if you were."
"The first thing I'm teaching you?" Natasha cut in. "How to throw a punch."
Peter frowned, "What?"
"When you came in, your hand was shattered, Pete," Bucky crossed his arms.
"I know how to throw a punch," Peter protested.
It wasn't until he saw Clint laughing did he realize Bucky and Natasha were just teasing him. He blushed, "Gee, thanks for the confidence boost."
Peter knew he should've been grateful at the attempt to lighten the mood, but it still felt like there was a giant weight on his chest that was slowly suffocating him. It didn't help that his senses were still worn thin and his headache was rapidly returning.
They might've found you amusing for a while... But the one thing they love more than a hero is to see a hero fall... fail... die trying.
Harry's voiced echoed in his mind once more, a sharp pain sending a spike through Peter's head and his stomach rolled.
"Tony?" Peter dropped his head in his head with a pained groan.
"Shit," Tony's calm voice quickly morphed into one of concern. "FRIDAY, SO protocol, now."
As soon as Tony said it, the lights in the room dimmed and everything went quiet. If it weren't for the other heartbeats in the room, Peter could've sworn he had been left alone.
Poor Peter Parker... Struggling to have everything he wants...
Liar, liar... Pants on fire... Hang his tongue from a telephone wire...
Peter let out a stomach turning gag and before he knew what was happening, he was in the bathroom and bent over the sink as he lots his battle with the nausea once more. The force of the heaves made Peter's head vibrate like a drum and he was half aware of the death grip he had on the granite because it cracked under his strength. Two pairs of strong hands were the only thing holding him up as he body rebelled against the intrusive thoughts in his mind. The blood of Harry's body forever tainting his memory, the cackle of Harry's laughter... the words that Harry knew would stab him in the gut so that Peter would never forget. By the time that Peter calmed down, there were hand on his fists, soothing away the tension in them, coaxing them to let the broken counter top go. He could hear people calling his name, but his senses were in overdrive, and all he could hear was the disturbingly familiar waves that echoed in his ears. To his dismay, everything happened in a blink of an eye and when he came back to reality, he was alone in his bed.
Part of him was surprised at being left to his own devices, and the memory of what had just happened was playing on repeat in his mind. Where did everyone go?
"FRIDAY?" Peter asked timidly.
"Hello, Peter, are you feeling better?" The innocence in FRIDAY's voice made Peter envious.
Peter didn't even bother lying and instead avoided the question. "What happened?"
"Your Spider-Overload protocol was initiated last night at 3:00 in the morning, you weren't responding well to human presence. Boss... He wanted to stay, but you kept getting worse. He's currently awake in his room, would you like me to alert him that you're awake?"
Peter blinked in confusion as a thought crossed his mind. "FRIDAY, what day is it?"
"It is currently 12:30 in the morning on Monday. You've been in and out of consciousness for almost two days."
Must've been the shock, Peter closed his eyes sadly. "Has Alex woken up at all?"
"Alex Andrews has yet to regain consciousness, but Dr. Cho and Dr. Banner are heavily optimistic that it won't be much longer. Mr. Andrews and your aunt are currently sleeping and he's alone."
I should go see him, Peter told himself, but he felt a pit of dread form in his stomach at the thought. He was scared, and he hated to admit that to himself. What would Alex look like because of the explosion? Would he blame Peter for what had happened to him? How much will this affect him? Can Alex come back from such trauma?
You owe it to him, Peter scolded himself. Look how much he's done for you. Were you really that different?
Closing his eyes and sighing in resignation, Peter sat up in his bed, running a tired hand down his face. How is it he felt so drained even though he's been out of it?
Because it hadn't been a peaceful rest, Peter's mind told him. You've been stuck in limbo, Pete, and you know that feeling all too well. Except this time... will the feeling ever go away?
A few minutes later, Peter made his way out of his bedroom, still wearing the black joggers and new MIT hoodie that Tony had undoubtedly gave to him. He hugged his hands across his torso, letting the hoodie feel like it was a warm hug from his mentor. He initially had the resolve to go to the infirmary and just sit with Alex to prove to himself that the other boy was indeed okay. To reassure himself that Alex would wake up again, and that Peter would be able to see the life in his eyes and the joy in his voice again. However, when he got to the third floor, he made it as far as the entrance to the infirmary before he found himself frozen in place.
Alex's strong heartbeat washed over him in an overwhelming wave, and Peter hated how much that made him want to run.
What do you think the people of this city will think when they hear you killed someone? That poor Peter Parker, the man behind the mask, is a murderer?
Suddenly feeling like he couldn't breathe, Peter bolted to the third floor balcony, leaning against the railing as he forced himself to take measured breaths. The sharp chill of the October night's air was enough to help shock him back to reality. Overall, Peter knew that he hadn't been the one to deal the final blow that had killed Harry... No, Harry had been the one to kill himself in the end. However, that didn't excuse the fact that Peter had almost killed the Goblin with his bare hands out of blind rage and hate. That was the part that scared him the most. That wasn't the Spider-Man or Peter Parker that people knew. What would they think if they truly found out how close Peter had been to actually treading past the point of no return?
Would they like what they saw? Would they love seeing a young hero's failure? Or would they hate it too? Peter wondered, his hands tightening against the railing to stop them from shaking.
"Couldn't sleep?"
Peter jumped out of his skin at the unexpected voice and turned his head around to see Steve leaning against the balcony door.
"What gave it away?" Peter asked tiredly, turning back to watch the stars, not ready to look someone else in the eyes.
"Stargazing at one in the morning seems a little unusual," Steve pointed out, coming to stand beside him. The two of them were quiet for a moment before Steve asked, "What's going on in that mind of yours?"
"What isn't going on in my mind?" Peter remarked tiredly.
"Kid..." Steve sighed.
An abrupt thought crossed Peter's mind. "How did it feel when you found out that Bucky was the Winter Soldier?" Peter wondered sadly.
Something flickered across Steve's face and Peter winced.
Way to go, Pete, that no brain to mouth filter has really done it this time...
"Sorry, I didn't mean to..."
Steve cut him off with a shake of his head. "It's okay. To be honest? It felt like my world was crumbling."
"How'd you get through it? When you had to fight him?"
"It wasn't easy, that's for sure," Steve replied. "I felt guilty. This man that had been beside me through childhood and through a war was suddenly my enemy. It was strange too, I mean, I know they brainwashed him and trained him into being an assassin, but fighting him always felt difficult in the sense where I felt like he could guess my every move."
"That does sound weird," Peter agreed.
Understanding flashed across Steve's face. "Goblin?"
"May always said we were inseparable growing up," Peter said. "That we were two sides of the same coin. That was way before I met Ned."
"What changed?"
"His mom died and his dad took him and jumped ship. Changed their numbers, cut off all contact and never looked back." Peter shook his head. "I was so confused when I was younger. I mean I was a ten year old kid and my best friend was yanked away from me. I never heard from him until he moved back to Queens a few months ago, transferred back to Midtown and that was that."
"I'm so sorry," Steve told him genuinely.
"Looking back at it, there were so many signs that he was the Goblin," Peter tightened his grip on the railing. "I was just so blind... I didn't want to believe that someone I had trusted with my life would go and stab me in the back like I was a fish on display."
"You're not blind," Steve reassured him. "He was your friend."
"Exactly. He was my friend, I used to be able to read him like a book!" The metal groaned under Peter's grip and he jumped away, looking at the dented metal of the railing in shock.
"Peter," Steve moved closer so he could rest a steadying hand on Peter's upper back.
"I lost control," Peter confessed brokenly. "When we were in that warehouse, I almost..." His voice broke and Peter just looked up at the sky, clearly looking for a reason as to why this had to happen to him. "I wanted to kill him and I almost did. I had him under my hands and I just..."
"But you stopped." Steve finished for him.
"I almost didn't. In the end he killed himself, but I just... What would people think if they knew how broken I really am?"
Steve was quiet for a moment before he spoke up. "You know, when I thought that Bucky died, I went on a murder spree."
"You were fighting HYDRA, that's different," Peter disagreed.
"And Harry wasn't a bad guy too?" Steve rubbed circled into his back. "You were defending yourself. You might've been angry, and you might've lost control, but it was because you were also scared of what would happen to others if you didn't stop him then and there."
Peter bit his lip and closed his eyes as Steve's sensible words washed over him. "I still hear him in my head and I can't get it to go away."
"I don't think it'll ever will," Steve told him honestly. "But with the people around you supporting you and loving you for who you are... It'll fade. It won't go away, but it'll get weak enough to the point where you can fight it and subdue it. You're not a bad guy, Peter. You're just someone who's been through a lot and is trying their best to pick up the broken pieces that have been left behind."
"He took everything from me," Peter's head dropped to his chest. "Everyone knows now, and I can't make that go away."
"It might not be as bad as you think it'll be," Steve offered. "It'll be a lot at first, but you're still Peter Parker. You were Peter Parker before you became Spider-Man and that's who the people closest to you will always treat you as. Peter Parker will never be overshadowed by the masked hero. Spider-Man wouldn't exist without the person that you are outside of the mask."
"I'm just so tired," Peter confessed dejectedly. "I just want to sleep and wake up feeling like I can breathe."
"Maybe don't do it alone at first?"
Peter frowned at that and looked over to Steve who was raising an eyebrow at him.
"I think we both know that there's people here that are more than willing to help if you let them. I can list one of them off the top of my head."
"I don't want to bother him, Steve, he's done more than enough," Peter shook his head.
Steve sighed, "You're more like him than you'll ever know with that selfless complex."
"Besides, I swore to myself I'd go see Alex..."
"Which you can do, and I won't try to stop you," Steve replied adamantly. "But Alex will still be there once you get some rest. I can't make the choice for you, and I don't want to. Just do whatever you feel is best, and we'll all support you."
Peter fell silent for a moment, closing his eyes and taking a few deep breaths. When he felt steadier on his feet he looked over to Steve, "Can you come with me? I don't want to go there alone."
Steve's face softened at that and he nodded, "Yeah, Pete, you don't even have to ask."
Steve had been kind enough to walk Peter into Alex's infirmary room and Peter lasted a few minutes before he was too dead on his feet to stay. But seeing Alex laying on the bed, breathing on his own with half of his face covered in bandages was enough to comfort him to an extent. The strong heartbeat was a welcome change from the weak sound that Peter had been left with since the apartment fight and it felt like the weight on his chest loosened a slight fraction. Eventually, he turned around and gave Steve a resigned look, and the super soldier just nodded wordlessly before the two of them left the infirmary and boarded the elevator. They didn't say anything as the two of them approached the massive master bedroom at the end of the second floor hallway. It wasn't until they were at the door did Peter almost bolt from the hallway out of shame for what he was about to ask of his mentor, but a hand on his shoulder made Peter stop.
"You got this," Steve promised him.
Taking a deep breath, Peter knocked on the door and waited. He could tell from the breathing and the shuffling behind the door that Tony hadn't been asleep, and Peter felt guilty at the thought that maybe it was because of him. The door opened a moment later, revealing a tired-looking Tony who was wearing loose gray sweatpants and a black tank top. The arc reactor that housed his nanotech suit was not currently resting in the nook of his chest. The absence of the faint blue glow was something that Peter wasn't used to anymore. Tony had seemed to carry it everywhere ever since the Vulture incident.
His eyes grew worried when he saw who was standing at the doorway. His eyes flickered over to Steve in a questioning glance before he turned his attention to the teen. "Peter?"
Peter began shuffling from foot to foot, his anxiety growing. "Hey..."
"Pete," Steve gently knocked his shoulder against Peter's.
Peter closed his eyes and nodded, before looking back up at Tony. "I couldn't... I mean I don't want to bother..."
Tony's eyes softened and a look of understanding washed over his features. He leaned against the open door, "You could never be a bother, Peter." He stepped aside and gestured with his head. "Come on."
Peter looked between Steve and Tony for a moment before reaching out and throwing his arms around the super soldier's shoulders. At first he thought he made a mistake when Steve let out a surprised noise, but the blonde's strong arms wrapped around him a moment later in a firm and comforting grasp.
"Thank you," Peter croaked.
"No thanks needed, Pete," Steve promised, giving him one last squeeze before they pulled away. By the way that the blonde's voice was rough, Peter could've sworn Captain America was on the verge of tears. "We're family, yeah?"
Peter also nodded as he took a step backwards towards Tony, and when he was close enough the billionaire's hand came to rest on the back of Peter's neck. "Yeah. I guess we are."
Steve looked between Tony and Peter one last time before he said, "Get some rest, Peter, you've earned it."
"Thanks, Steve," Peter told him one last time before Steve retreated back down the hallway.
When Peter saw him disappear back into his own room, Tony squeezed the back of his neck gently. "Come on, Underoos."
Peter didn't say anything as Tony guided him to the king sized bed, and he had to fight the blush creeping onto his face when he crawled underneath the blankets and settled down into the soft satin sheets. He knew he should feel embarrassed for seeking out company because he wasn't some child who could easily get away with not sleeping alone after a nightmare, but Tony didn't berate him or complain about Peter taking away his beauty sleep. If Peter was being honest with himself, he had a feeling Tony needed the contact as much as Peter did.
Peter laid facing Tony, but stared off at the space past Tony's shoulder when Tony also turned to face him.
"You don't have to say anything," Tony told him quietly. "But I'm proud of you for reaching out."
Peter closed his eyes, still feeling like he was treading water in a frozen lake whose ice had given away under Peter's feet.
"I didn't want to be alone," Peter confessed. I just needed someone.
"You'll never be alone," Tony promised.
A lump began to form in Peter's throat and he wanted to cry again, and he hated it. He hadn't cried this much in the span of two months since Ben died. It made him feel pathetic.
"I'm scared, Tony," Peter's voice broke. "I still hear his voice in my head. I almost..."
"Don't do that to yourself," Tony cut him off kindly. "One step at a time. Let's just focus on tonight, okay?"
Peter let out a shaky breath and nodded, but the tears began to fall.
Tony's face crumbled, "Come here, kid." He reached forward and pulled Peter into another hug, holding him close and tucking Peter's head under his chin once more.
Peter would never admit it, but that gesture was always the most comforting thing in the world. It was how Ben used to hold him when things got rough. It was how Ben held him after the constant nightmares and the breakdowns he had after his parents died. It let Peter believe that just for a moment, he really was Tony's kid and Tony was just a father who was trying to shield him from the horrors of the world. Maybe it was the feeling of security that washed over him that did it in the end, or maybe it was the steady heartbeat of his mentor, but Peter finally found himself slipping underneath the waves. This time it wasn't ice cold. Instead it was comfortingly warm. So, as Peter drifted into a peaceful slumber, he found himself ready to face the dreams that awaited him.
I've never had to go through the horrific feeling of shock, but I've seen how it affected people close to me, and I tried my best to convey that to this story, and I'm sorry if it isn't totally accurate.
This makes me sad.
This really is almost the beginning of the end, isn't it? I really can't believe we're almost there. At least 2 more chapters.
Was it good? Was it bad? feel free to let me know!