Chapter 8: Broken
Bruce and Peter sit on the edge of the overly long, pleather couch as Bruce looks over his glasses to inspect Peter's heel. Peter is back in casual clothes with his mask still on and his suit on the seat next to me. It's been about a half hour since he got back to the Tower and he can't stop glancing back to the gaping hole in the wall that Toomes must have created.
"You alright, Peter?" Peter whips his head around to look at Bruce.
"Hm? Oh! Yeah, yeah I'm good. I'm not in any pain." Peter rolls his slightly sore ankle to prove his point. "See?"
"Rolling your ankle doesn't prove whether or not your heel is shattered. We're going to do an x-ray once we get back to your check-up," Bruce insists, feeling uncomfortable about the fact that he still doesn't know enough about Peter's healing factor. Peter's stomach starts to twist with anxiety. He doesn't want to be any more of a burden than he already is.
"It's really not a problem, Dr. Banner. I mean, I've been thrown through concrete walls and dragged behind a moving van and flown on the outside of a plane. This is nothing!" Peter tries to reason with him. Bruce looks anything but convinced, shocked if nothing else.
"Jeez kid, how old are you?" he asks in disbelief. Peter looks at his hands and nervously rubs them together.
"Sixteen," he mumbles. Bruce shakes his head and takes a deep breath.
"Tony, what were you thinking ?" he mutters.
"No no no! I agreed to it! It wasn't Mr. Stark's fault, I swear. It was my choice and I don't regret it." Bruce eyes Peter cautiously, but decides to drop the subject.
"I still want to do the x-ray," Bruce says as he removes his glasses. "Before that, we'll eat some lunch when Tony gets back." Peter lowers his foot so he can stand and stretch.
"Um, can I ask you something?" he inquires awkwardly.
"Of course." Bruce's full attention is back on Peter.
"How come you didn't Hulk out and help us? Not saying you weren't helpful! I'm sure you're always helpful, being a super genius doctor and all. Not that you aren't helpful as the Hulk too, I'm just saying in general, as in, like, y'know?" Great vocabulary, Peter. Why don't you ramble and annoy another genius. This is why they always treat you like a kid. Bruce smiles at Peter's nervous rambling, finding it endearing.
"Not a problem, I know what you mean. I figured out pretty quickly that the infiltrator, who you've told me calls himself 'Mysterio,' was using a hallucinogenic gas of some sort. Based on your…reactions, I decided it would be better for the Hulk to not be under the influence of said hallucinogens. If he hallucinated or believed in the illusions, he could have gone on a rampage." Peter nods his head in understanding, but something doesn't sit right about what Bruce said.
"What do you mean by my 'reactions?' I thought I acted pretty rationally considering the man who literally haunts my nightmares showed up out of thin air."
"Well…why don't we discuss that when Tony's here. In the meantime, you asked me a question so now I get to ask you one." Peter smirks and raises an eyebrow.
"I don't think I agreed to those terms," he challenges.
"Good thing I'm the one who gets to make the rules." Bruce genuinely smiles before continuing. "How come you still have the mask on?" Peter's heartbeat starts to pick up and he bites the inside of his lip.
"Well, um, y'see," he takes a deep breath to gather his thoughts "sometimes I get sensory overload and the mask helps to kinda tune things out. Light isn't as bright, sounds don't make my ears reverberate, smells aren't as harsh, stuff like that." He shrugs in an attempt to make it seem like it's not such a big deal. It really isn't a problem, just inconvenient at times. Bruce narrows his eyes in thought. "But, but it's probably fine now! I'll take it off," Peter assures him and slowly slips the mask off. The hole in the wall is causing more light to filter into the room than normal and Peter has to squint to allow his eyes time to adjust.
"How do you feel?" Bruce whispers, just in case Peter's ears are sensitive. Peter blinks a few times until his eyes don't burn.
"I'm good, no problem. It's worse when I'm panicking, then everything goes into overdrive," he laughs nervously. Bruce's eyes slowly widen, as if everything in the world suddenly makes sense.
"Of course! When people are in a stressful, life-or-death situation, they're autonomic sympathetic nervous system kicks in with the fight-or-flight response. Their epinephrine gives them the necessary energy to either fight or run. You, being Spider-Man, are in a life threatening situation every other night . Your senses are already dialed up without the added adrenaline, which is probably what puts them into hyperdrive. We don't even know how much epinephrine and norepinephrine your body produces yet." He seems to be switching between talking to Peter and thinking out loud.
"That would make sense. I haven't really considered it like that." It kind of bothers Peter that there could be other things caused by the spider bite that he still doesn't know about.
"We'll get everything sorted out," Bruce comforts with a small smile. Peter returns his smile and nods. After that, Peter starts to hear a dull rumble approaching the Tower. He instantly recognizes it as the Iron Man thrusters and hops off the couch to wait by the debris riddled hole in the Tower. Bruce follows him with a confused look, but catches on a few moments later when he's able to hear the thrusters too. Tony quickly comes into view and lands inside with the clank of his metal covered feet.
"So? Any news?" Peter questions eagerly as the nanobots begin to deconstruct Tony's Iron Man suit.
"Nothing. Absolutely dick diddly. Nothing left behind and nothing to follow. Spent almost an hour just flying through five square blocks. It felt like I was chasing a damn ghost." The suit is gone by the time he finishes his explanation, obviously exasperated. Peter rakes a hand through his slightly damp hair. If only I had been stronger or faster, then we could've beaten that guy. He didn't even have any powers.
"Okay, okay, what about Toomes?" He hasn't seen Toomes since he swung out the window. "Is there, like, some way we can track his tech or figure out what happened at the prison or something?" Peter tries to think of all the possibilities in order to get them brainstorming. He just wants to be productive after how much he botched that fight. Tony glances to Bruce, then looks back to Peter. Tony opens his mouth, but doesn't seem to know what he wants to say. How is he supposed to tell Peter? "Mr. Stark?" Peter prompts.
"Kid, Toomes…he wasn't, he wasn't exactly…here." Tony stumbles through his sentence, but manages to keep his voice tight and even. Peter draws his eyebrows together, not quite understanding what Tony's getting at.
"But, I saw him and I felt- " Peter cuts himself off, realization slamming into him so quickly that the wind is almost knocked out of him. He didn't feel anything. He never felt anything because Toomes never touched him. "Wait, wait no. He couldn't have been an illusion. He, he tore up the door and, and he made a huge hole in the wall! That blast he shot could have, could have killed you, Mr. Stark!" He grips his hair with both his hands and tries to control his breathing before he spirals into panic.
"It's okay, Pete. We'll fill you in on everything, but first you need to eat and calm down." Tony tries to keep his voice gentle yet insistent as he slowly walks closer to Peter.
"No! I'm tired of not being in control of my own life! I don't want nightmares and I don't want people like Toomes controlling my thoughts! I can't…I can't do it!" Rogue tears slip out of Peter's eyes, which only make him more angry. I'm not sad and I'm not weak! Why am I crying?! Tony lightly places his hands on Peter's shoulders, unsure of what to do to help a crying kid. All of this is way out of his depth. Peter can't bare to look his mentor in the eyes, not when he feels like such a kid. It isn't his job to babysit me.
Tony sighs, noticing how Peter is desperately trying to hold himself together. Finally, Tony decides screw it, Peter needs him. He stiffly pulls Peter into his chest. He's not the best at hugs or any kind of physical reassurance, but it's what Peter needs so he's going to do it. Peter clenches his teeth in an attempt to stop the tears from falling, but it only makes them come faster. Be strong. Stop crying in front of Mr. Stark, you're embarrassing yourself.
"Let it out, bud," Tony whispers. That's all it takes for Peter to stop holding back broken cries of frustration. It isn't long before he has relaxed into Tony's hug. He's doing his best to bite back sobs.
"I'm tired of being such a mess," he mumbles into Tony's jacket. "I don't want to feel damaged. I want to feel okay." Great, Peter, whine like a five year old why don't you.
"I know. I want you to be, too." Tony tightens his arms around Peter, hoping it provides some sort of comfort. Peter just stands there, ever so slightly leaning into the hug. He doesn't make an attempt to hug him back, he instead just enjoys the comfort of Tony's strength. Uncle Ben used to give hugs like this, he distantly thinks. The kind that just envelops you and makes you feel safe. The kind that you never want to end…and Peter still pulls away. He wipes some stray tears that weren't soaked up by Tony's jacket and crosses his arms in a vain attempt to keep the same sensation of comfort. It doesn't help.
"Sorry. Food, um, food sounds good," he mumbles, barely above a whisper. He stares at his bare feet as he curls his toes under and sniffles.
"I'll start on that," Bruce quickly volunteers, eager to break the tension. He walks towards the bar to look through the mini fridge. "What to you feel like? There's a sandwich…of some sort, an apple juice, and…that's it… Tony, when was the last time you restocked this?" He turns around to face the two, holding a wrapped, floppy sandwich and a juice box.
"It's a bar, Bruce. Bars aren't made to be under eighteen friendly. Let's go up to the kitchen." Tony fixes his jacket's cuff and walks towards the elevator. Bruce and Peter both follow him and they all go up a floor. The kitchen is across from Tony's bedroom and Peter's guestroom. It's a simple kitchen, considering they're in a billionaire's building, but it's still half the size of Peter and May's entire apartment.
"Whatcha feel like, Pete?" Tony asks as he walks up to the massive refrigerator. By the fridge is a small TV mounted on the wall. Well, small compared to the 105 inch flat screen TV in the living room, Peter notes. This one is more like forty inches at most. He shrugs his shoulders, trying to not be picky.
"I'm down for anything. Food is food, right?" When you live in a low income household, you learn to eat whatever's put in front of you. Not that May doesn't work hard to get them food and everything. Money is just…tight sometimes.
"That's not gonna cut it. How about pizza? It's only cheese, but we can add some extra toppings if you want," Tony suggests. He wants to engage the kid, help him feel better. He hates to see Peter this upset, he's just not sure how to fix it.
"Pizza is fine if it's alright with you guys." Actually, pizza sounds fantastic, but Peter doesn't want to make it about himself.
"It's not a problem with me," Bruce agrees as he walks over to the TV. He turns it on and starts flipping through the channels to find something interesting for them to watch.
"Pizza it is!" Tony announces as he pulls two boxes of pizza out of the freezer and sets them down on the countertop. "What do you want to add? I have more cheese, pepperoni, salami, bacon, olives-"
"Do you have pineapple?" Peter asks eagerly as he helps by opening the boxes. Tony slowly turns around to look at Peter with judgemental eyes and drawn eyebrows.
"You like pineapple on pizza ?" he questions Peter with distaste.
"Of course I do! You don't?" Peter questions as he pulls both of the frozen, cheese pizzas out and starts to unwrap them.
"Fruit doesn't belong on pizza," Tony says with finality. Peter can't help but smile and rest his elbow on the counter smugly.
"Then technically you can't put olives on either." He smirks proudly and Tony eyes the glass jar of olives in his hand. He narrows his gaze at Peter before reaching back into the fridge and tossing a can of diced pineapple to him. Peter smiles triumphantly and catches it with ease. He use the easy open tab to peel it open and bounces on his heels as he happily sprinkles the pineapple pieces onto his pizza. Some torn up slices of bacon are added, too.
"Someone sure is cheery over some pineapple," Tony comments as he places olives and mushrooms on half of his pizza.
"Someone sure is a sore loser," Peter quips back at him. Tony chuckles and shakes his head before adding some pepperoni. With his pizza topped to perfection, Peter slides it into the oven and waits for Tony.
"Bruce, what do you want on your half?" Tony asks without taking his eyes off the pizza.
"Pepperoni is fine. Don't you have anything good to watch? All you have are a bunch of news stations and reruns of M*A*S*H," Bruce complains as he continues to press the same button on the remote.
"There's a 110 inch, flat screen TV in the next room. Do you really think I'm worried about getting the extra channels for a kitchen TV that hardly anyone uses?" Tony easily fires back. Peter was close; 110 inches, not 105. It's insane to think that Tony has more TVs than he could count when Peter and May have one TV in their whole apartment and it isn't even a flat screen. To be fair, he has quite a bit more square feet than they do.
"Not like you can't afford it," Bruce reminds with a slight smile.
"Touché," Tony relents. Peter notices that the only time Tony ever concedes is when he's simultaneously bragging about himself.
"You shouldn't give in that easily, Mr. Stark. It's not-" Peter stops when the mention of Spider-Man from the TV catches his attention, but Bruce continues to change the channels. "Dr. Banner, can you go back to that news station please?" Peter walks up to the TV as Bruce listens and clicks back. A shaky, blurred video being shot from the ground shows the building from this afternoon. The angle only allows them to see Iron Man in the air circling the building, but not what's happening on the rooftop. Every now and then, they're able to see Spider-Man pop up only to disappear again. Suddenly, Peter watches himself swing off the roof towards the ground where the video is being recorded.
"Bruce, maybe no TV right now." Tony clears his throat and Bruce raises the remote to turn it off.
"Wait," Peter interrupts. He wants to see this. The video shakes as Spider-Man sweeps up the person recording. I should've known that they were just illusions. My Spidey Sense would have told me otherwise. I feel like an idiot, mediocre at the very least, he berates himself. When the video refocuses, it's aimed at Spider-Man and the man who yelled at him. Then, the TV shuts off. Peter quickly looks to Bruce, but the doctor raises his hands to prove it wasn't him. F.R.I.D.A.Y. must have turned it off.
"The world is depressing enough as it is. We don't need the news adding to it," Tony comments. Peter is about to argue when he hears his ringtone sounding from the guest room.
"I'll be right back. Don't let my pizza burn." He looks pointedly at the two.
"We're geniuses," Tony states matter-of-factly and opens both his arms, like he has done many times before, to let people bask in his glory. Peter playfully rolls his eyes and turns to go to his room, but stops dead in his tracks. The realization suddenly hits him with full force that his guestroom door is open and intact. Undamaged. He saw Toomes obliterate that door with his own eyes. "Kid?" Tony prompts warily, noticing Peter's sudden halt.
"The, the door. It's…there." Peter can't pry his eyes away from the door and Tony walks towards him. Before Tony can reach his side, Peter walks into the room and looks through the doorway. There aren't slashes in the mattress, the window isn't shattered, and the bed frame doesn't have a scratch on it. The mattress is on the other side of the room from when he used it as a shield and the bed frame still has webbing attached to it, but that's it. The room is pristine. "It was all a hallucination…wasn't it?" he asks, his voice low.
Tony doesn't know what to do. He didn't want Peter beat himself up about it, but he knew the kid would figure it out. He sighs and waits a few moments before deciding what to say.
"Yeah…it was. The gas Mysterio released was some kind of hallucinogenic drug. Bruce is working on figuring out the components." Peter can tell that whenever Tony gets into an emotional situation, he tends to lean towards science and logic to help him through it.
"He was right in front of me. I didn't even think about how he never managed to touch me, let alone land a hit." Then again, wasn't trying to, Toomes' words echo throughout Peter's head. "I still haven't learned anything since then. I'm not getting anywhere. I should've known when Karen wasn't able to scan him. There wasn't anything for her to scan." He rubs his hands over his face and takes a deep breath. There's no way he's going to break down in front of Tony for the third time in under twenty-four hours.
"It wasn't your fault. We're going to figure everything out and we're going to do it together this time. I won't…" Tony pauses to consider his words. If he says it, there's no going back. If he shows how much he…cares, he can't just press the undo button. "I won't let anything happen to you again. Alright?" Tony lets out a slow breath when Peter smiles slightly and nods.
"Thanks, Mr. Stark." Peter's phone rings again, quickly refocusing his attention on it. It's still on the nightstand in one piece where he left it. When he flips it over to see the caller ID, he realizes that fighting Mysterio and hallucinating Toomes are the least of his worries. He nervously accepts the call.
"Hey, Aunt May…"
"Well, nice knowin' ya, kid." Tony immediately steps out of the room and gingerly shuts the door behind him. Wimp.
"Peter, I saw what happened on the news!" she begins frantically.
"May, I'm fine. I promise! Not a scratch on me, honest," Peter quickly tries to assure her before she starts to panic.
"I called six times! You were fighting some, some… thing on a rooftop! With Stark! What if you ran out of webs? You could have fallen! And why was that man yelling at you? Does he have any idea what you do for people?! How many people you save?! He had no right-"
"May!" She stops and Peter hears her heavy breathing on the other end. "I'm sorry I didn't answer. Mr. Stark and I were making some pizza and I didn't have my phone on me. I'm not hurt in any sense of the word; physically or emotionally." Peter keeps his voice gentle and even. There's a moment of silence before she responds.
"Good. Okay, but why was he yelling at you? All you were doing was trying to help move people away. They shouldn't be standing so close anyways. Kids these days are going to get themselves killed just to get a viral video." May will always be his biggest fan and that's what keeps Peter going.
"I kinda made a mistake? I thought that, uh, they were going to be crushed. It's hard to explain, but I'll fill you in when I get home. I don't want us to get into it over the phone." Peter knows how much she worries, so he'd rather be there in person to reassure her. Telling her he hallucinated and got tricked by illusions wouldn't be the best way to go about it right now.
"Alright…" May doesn't sound too convinced, but she lets it go nonetheless. "Just stay safe, please. I'm still trying to get used to this whole superhero thing," she laughs nervously. "I can't watch anything happen to you, especially not on the news, Peter." Anxiety starts to settle in Peter's stomach at the thought of causing her so much worry. May has every right to be worried, when Peter goes out every night risking his life for the greater good when the "greater good" to her is making sure her nephew lives a long life.
"I know," Peter agrees softly. "You won't."
"You're damn right I won't. Stark will have to answer to me if anything happens to you." May's voice shakes slightly and Peter knows better than to think she isn't dead serious. Peter's phone starts to buzz and he pulls it from his ear to see Ned's selfie lighting up the screen. He chuckles at the thought of their matching caller IDs.
"Ned's calling, but I'll keep you updated. I love you," he says with every ounce of his being. Why does he feel so guilty?
"I love you too. Bye." With that, he accepts Ned's incoming call.
"Dude! You're on the news!" Ned screams through the phone, causing Peter to wince. "You were jumping and swinging and Iron Man was doing the pew pew thing with his hand lasers! And and we couldn't even see what you were fighting, man! What was it?! An alien invasion?! A new villain?!" Ned shouts excitedly into the phone and Peter has to hold it away from his ear, but he smiles anyways.
"Do you actually want me to answer your questions or do you prefer yelling?" Peter laughs.
"Sorry, sorry, go ahead!"
"We fought a new villain today," Peter tries his best to contain the excitement in his voice.
"No way!"
"Yeah! And he had, like, a glass helmet on his head and I was like 'Dude, what are you wearing a fishbowl for?' and he tried to play it cool but I can tell that I hurt his feelings." Ned squeals on the other end before speaking.
"I can't believe you upset a supervillain! That's, like, the epitome of badassery!" he responds in awe.
"He didn't have any powers though! Instead he had these illusions and hallucinogenic gas! It was super weird."
"Woah, dude! Are you okay?! Did he gas you?!" Peter can't tell if Ned is worried or curious, but Peter can't blame him for either.
"Yeah, but I handled it. No problem. And get this, he calls himself 'Mysterio.'" They both laugh until Ned starts to talk again.
"Really? Mysterio ? Villains have lost all their creativity," he says as if it's mankind's greatest loss. Peter laughs more as he shakes his head.
"It really is a shame, isn't it? They need to sort out their priorities," he adds sarcastically.
"Yeah! We want bad guys with standards!" They both burst into laughing fits again. Peter's sides and cheeks hurt from laughing so much but he can't stop. "I'm glad you're okay though, it looked intense. Obviously not too intense for the Spider-Man though." He can practically hear the smile in Ned's voice. He loves that Ned and May are his biggest fans. Before he can respond, he hears a high pitched, shrill beeping. He groans loudly and lets his head dip forward in frustration. "What's that noise?"
"Smoke alarms. Jeez, I leave them alone for two minutes," Peter mutters. "I have to go, but I'll call you tomorrow."
"See ya, Peter. Don't let Avengers Tower burn down," Ned teases.
"I'll do my best, Ned. See ya!" Peter ends the call and jogs out of his room only to see the kitchen enveloped by smoke. Bruce is holding the oven door for Tony as he pulls out a smoking pan. Tony flings it into the sink and instantly turns on the faucet.
"So, how's the pizza going, geniuses?" Peter teases them with a confident smirk. Bruce shuts the oven and looks over to Peter.
"I think we set the temperature too high. In theory, it should've cooked it faster," Bruce admits. Peter can't help bursting into laughter, but he tries to muffle it with his hand.
"Everyone likes it crispy. And if they don't, they're lying," Tony concludes as he crosses his arms. If they can't even cook a pizza, this is going to be an interesting weekend.