Chapter Twenty-Two: Dad in Shining Armor
Peter can feel the sweat slowly dripping down his face as he tries to gasp in breaths. He feels like he's on fire. The soda should've diluted the alcohol, so why does it feel like his body is trying to kill him? There was barely any alcohol to begin with, it was probably just for laughs. It shouldn't have caused this. He can hear voices around him, but he can't tell whose they are. It's hard to focus on anything. The voices are…comforting? Sort of? He doesn't know.
It isn't until he hears a familiar whirring that he tries to focus on anything aside from his body attempting to spontaneously combust. He knows that sound. It's the same sound he heard over the phone. He slightly lifts his head in time to see the red and gold glint of the Iron Man suit land with a clunk on the concrete. Oh. That makes sense. But Iron Man being at a high school party for a high school nobody isn't going to be good publicity. Is Mr. Stark going to get in trouble for this? No no, he already has enough problems with the Accords. It's not fair. It's not fair. Peter's head falls back again, but lands on something soft. He's too out of it to realize it's Ned's hand that catches his head.
"F.R.I.D.A.Y., get me his vitals from Karen," a mechanized voice orders. Suddenly, Iron Man's faceplate completely takes over Peter's view.
"Hey," Peter gasps out, trying to sound casual. There's a brief pause, for F.R.I.D.A.Y. to answer Tony, before his faceplate lifts. His eyebrows are drawn together in barely hidden concern and his soft, brown eyes are enough to send Peter into waterworks. "I'm…sorry." Against Peter's will, his voice cracks.
"Nope, no sorries allowed. It'll be okay. You hear me?" Tony states firmly when he notices Peter's breathing pick up due to the sudden crying. Unruly tears stream down Peter's cheeks, making him feel weak. He presses his lips together to desperately pull himself together and nods. "Good. Now, what have I said about taking things from strangers?" Tony is trying to cover up his nerves with humor. Peter can deeply relate.
"Nothing," Peter plays along with a slight smile. A corner of Tony's mouth tugs up into a lopsided smile. Unfortunately, it quickly fades when he looks up. Peter tries to follow his gaze, but Ned's hand stops him from turning his head. Tony's faceplate snaps closed with a tink, an intimidating addition to his menacing shouts.
"Hey! If I find out one of you did this, I'll have my lawyers here to sue you faster than you can try to upload a damn picture!" Tony yells, his face contorting in rage underneath the mask. People continue to take pictures and videos of the scene regardless. Peter instantly grips onto the forearm of the Iron Man suit, making Tony's glowing eyes snap back to him. Peter shakes his head, hoping Tony gets what he means. Tony takes a visible breath, then gently slides his arms underneath Peter's neck and knees. Everything seems blend together as Peter's vision swims. If he's flying us to the Tower then this isn't going to be fun.
"Don't…wanna…" Peter tries to explain, but his brain isn't working right.
"I know, kid. I know." Tony's tone is gentle, like the time Peter had an anxiety attack in the workshop. He's surprisingly comforting when he needs to be. Without warning, they rocket into the sky, making Peter's stomach do flips. Peter grips onto Tony's shoulders, no doubt denting the armor, but the unexpected adrenaline coursing through his body doesn't care. "F.R.I.D.A.Y., send Peter's trending vitals to Helen Cho and tell her that we need her in the Medbay ASAP." Tony looks down to Peter next. "Okay, we're gonna fly over to the Tower and Helen will- hey, eyes on me, bud." What? Oh, my eyes are closing. Regardless of the exhaustion pulling at his eyelids, Peter forces them to stay open. "There we go," Tony praises.
"Tired…too hot…hard…breathe." Peter's head starts tipping back again.
"Ah ah ah," Tony quickly says. "You gotta stay awake or I'm calling Aunt May."
"You'll…call her…anyway." A quiet chuckle comes from the suit, causing Peter to smile ever so slightly.
"Can't get anything past you, kid," Tony admits. Peter has noticed that Tony calls him "kid" more whenever he's nervous. He wonders if it grounds Tony or if it's a nervous habit.
"Chest…being… crushed," Peter gasps as his throat tightens. Tony immediately knows what he's referring to.
"No, you're not being crushed. I'm right here with you. I'm not gonna let anyone hurt you. You got that? No one." Peter looks up at Tony and slowly nods. The brisk wind from flying is refreshing on Peter's warm face and he desperately misses it when they start to slow down. "Shit," Tony curses under his breath. Peter wants to ask him what's wrong, but his lips won't move. "Where's Helen?" A brief pause. "Well then tell Happy to do his job and get those leeches out of our way!" Tony seethes. Peter lets his head loll to the side and catches the glimpse of a hoard of people at the entrance to the Tower. Uh oh. Tony lands, doing his best to soften their landing as Peter's stomach lurches. Blinding lights and a flurry of shouted questions assault Peter's senses, causing dark spots to form in front of his eyes and his ears to ring. In order to escape the sudden influx of sensory input, he turns his head into Tony's metal covered shoulder. "You okay?" Eyes , Peter wants to answer. He hears Tony's head tilt up with a mechanized whine.
"Stark!" a voice urgently calls, which Peter thinks is Dr. Cho? It's hard to tell. There's too much clicking and it's hard to think. When Tony hears the voice, he surges forward.
"Get the fuck away from my Tower before I have you all arrested!" he barks, pushing through the mass of reporters and flashing lights. As soon as they get inside, the doors thankfully block out the cameras and shouting. "Why the hell weren't you guys waiting in the penthouse?!"
"It would've taken us longer to get to the Medbay from there. So let me do my job," Dr. Cho demands with a stern voice. Everything is still at first and so quiet that Peter can hear the blood pumping through his heated ears. Then, he starts to feel himself being lowered. He immediately gasps, sending himself into a coughing fit, and tightens his grip on Tony's armor.
"Pete, you gotta let go," Tony gently whispers. I can't, I'm falling. I don't want to let go. Don't make me. You're going to let me fall. Please, don't let me fall, Peter's panicked thoughts scream at him. "I'm not going anywhere. I promise. But you have to let go so they can help you," Tony's tone hardens, and Peter knows that he has to listen. Peter slowly relaxes his muscles and softness encompasses his back.
The ride up to the Medbay is a blur. A bunch of different people, presumably doctors, all start asking Peter questions that he doesn't have the energy to answer. Tony does most of the talking and when Peter looks over to him, the Iron Man suit isn't on him anymore. Peter decides to tune things out. At some point an oxygen mask is put on his face and some of the burning in his lungs is alleviated. One thing he does notice is how undeniably sweaty he is, which he can't help but find gross. He knows he would be shivering from the cool layer of sweat if it weren't for the fact that he's pretty convinced that his body is still on fire. But one word instantly catches his attention: anesthesia. He bolts up into a sitting position, inadvertently yanking on the oxygen mask.
"No," he somehow finds his, albeit raspy, voice. "Not…anesth…" He can't even make his mouth say the word. Suddenly, Tony is slowly pushing his shoulders back onto the gurney.
"I know you said you don't like it, but they need to stitch up your hand and that'll hurt like hell if you don't have any painkillers," Tony desperately explains. My hand? Peter glances down to see crimson smeared over his right hand. It must be from when he broke the glass. In the background, he hears Dr. Cho's rushed orders.
"Keep the non-rebreather mask at fifteen liters per minute. Someone insert an IV and get a saline drip going. We need to flush the alcohol out of his system and keep him hydrated. Tony, we don't have an anesthetic made for him." Her words are quick and harsh, almost like she's scolding Tony. Peter's wheezing picks up at the thought of apathy at the hands of the devilish drug.
"Use Rogers' reserve at half dosage. F.R.I.D.A.Y., send Peter's metabolism and healing factor results to Helen's database." Tony's eyes find their way back to my own. "You trust me, right, Pete? The anesthesia is gonna take the pain away and help you relax. I need you to calm down though, okay? Deep breaths, just like we practiced." Peter hiccups as tears flow down the sides of his face and he distantly feels the pinch of the IV needle.
"Please, please," he begs. They can't do it. I'll go insane.
"He has a dangerous high-grade fever of 104.7°F. We need to cool him down now ," Dr. Cho orders.
"Hey, hey, it's okay kiddo. I promised I'm not leaving, and I don't break promises." Tony's eyes hold so much sincerity that it's hard for Peter to not put his full faith in his mentor. Peter just can't go through that numbing feeling again. Before he can argue, an ice-cold washcloth is placed on his forehead and he can't help but sigh in relief. Now I just need an ice bath. The relief is short-lived when his muscles relax against his will and he feels his consciousness start to float.
"No, no, no, no…" he mutters, gripping Tony's hand to try to tether himself to reality. He doesn't want to stop feeling. He'd rather feel the pain than the numbness.
"I've got you. I've got you," Tony awkwardly tries to comfort as he pats Peter's hand. Peter can barely feel it. However, he does feel a pressure on his other hand and slowly looks over to see a doctor with a needle. It feels like his body is floating and it's hard to focus on any one thing. His eyes blink sluggishly as his body fights to stay conscious, but he can already feel his metabolism burning through the anesthesia.
"Why isn't he going under?!" a harsh voice demands.
"His metabolism is fighting it off, like I tried to tell you was going to happen," Tony snaps back. "But we can't OD him on Roger's anesthesia which could knock the Hulk out!" His voice rises in frustration with each word. Dr. Cho ignores his tone, and continues her ordering.
"Cut his shirt. I want an EKG every two minutes and pull up his trending vitals. Where's those ice packs?!" she shouts. Peter vaguely feels his shirt being lifted and he looks up in time to see it cut down the center.
"Liked…that shirt…" he mumbles, looking back up at Tony as they stick electrodes to his chest.
"Hate to break it to you bud, but that was not a good shirt. 'Gravity is such a downer' might be the worst pun I've ever read," Tony chuckles breathlessly. "Tell you what, I'll take you shopping after this. No dress suits, no fancy ass restaurants. Any nerdy, geeked-out store you want to go to, we'll freaking go. Hell, if you wanna spend winter break in Rome I'll take you there in heartbeat. Even Aunt May and your friend Ted can come. How's that sound?" Peter starts to hear a constant beeping in the background.
"Ned…" Peter corrects, but gives Tony's hand a squeeze nonetheless. Tony returns it without hesitation. A cold sensation starts to spread from both sides of Peter's abdomen. They must have gotten those ice packs, and Peter would be lying if they didn't feel absolutely fantastic. He relishes in the moment of comfort, until his heart rate starts to pick back up. The world slowly comes back into focus, and with it comes an uncomfortable pinching in his right hand. A few seconds later, the pinching morphs into sharp pain prodding at his palm. His heart picks up speed and pounds against his chest when the panic seeps its way back into his body. His breathing quickens and his eyes lock back onto Tony. Feeling slowly returns to Peter's arms and legs. Drifting off only to be slammed back into reality. Feeling. Feeling is good. God I hate this. Anesthesia sucks.
"Tachycardia at 162 beats per minute," Dr. Cho's firm voice informs. "Are we out of the anesthesia or do we need to increase the flow?"
"His body already got used to it," Tony mumbles through clenched teeth.
"With all due respect, that's impossible. He can't adapt that fast," another voice counters. That's what tips Tony over the edge.
"I'm pretty sure we're already past the realm of possibility and with all due respect, I don't give a shit about your closed-minded opinion. Don't try to give me a debriefing on my kid! Got it?" he seethes. Peter is convinced that the leftover anesthesia is messing with his hearing.
"Tony, if you don't cooperate with my team, then you get to leave. I can't have you distracting them. So keep Peter calm and let us do what you pay us to do," Dr. Cho immediately cuts in to end their brief argument. Tony clenches his jaw, but doesn't say anything else. "Administer one hundred milligrams of morphine. Finish his hand as quickly as possibly, we don't know how long it's going to last. Fever is at 101.2. We might not need that epinephrine, but keep it close." She continues to calmly give orders and the morphine isn't as bad as the anesthesia, but not by much. It's enough to get Peter's hand stitched up and keep his breathing as well as his heart rate under control.
"You're doing great. Almost done, Pete," Tony encourages, feeling completely out of his depth. It's easier for Peter to breathe and his head is almost completely clear, save for the numbing effects of the morphine. Still, he can already feel the horrendous drug leaving his system.
"O2 saturation at ninety-eight percent. Pulse ninety-four, strong and regular. Blood pressure 128 over 79. Let's move him to a room and we'll monitor him for the next twenty-four hours," Dr. Cho rattles off and Peter feels the gurney begin to roll. Tony's hand never breaks the hold on Peter's. Peter isn't sure if it's because he's gripping Tony's too tight or if Tony is refusing to let go. Either way, it helps. A few nurses get Peter situated in his room before quietly leaving him and Tony.
It's silent for a few minutes. Tony is inspecting Peter from head to toe to gather his bearings and just make sure he's comfortable. Peter notices the red blotches on his arms that he hadn't noticed before, and distantly wonders if they're on his face too. Tony is the one to break the silence.
"I can feel all the gray hairs you're giving me." He raises an eyebrow at Peter, accompanied with a slight smile.
"It's okay, no one will notice a few more," Peter jokes back. Tony scoffs and places a hand over his chest.
" More? I'll have you know that I look utterly fantastic for my age. Ask anyone." He smirks proudly.
"Sure, Mr. Stark. You don't look a day over forty-five." Peter mirror his smirk as best he can and Tony rolls his eyes.
"You better watch it, kid. With all that disrespect, maybe I won't be your knight in shining armor to save you next time," he quips.
"At least no one can tell me my internship isn't real anymore." At that, Tony narrows his eyes.
"Who doesn't believe in your internship?" Well this isn't exactly where I expected the conversation to go, Peter absentmindedly notes.
"Everyone? Would you believe a nerdy high school kid who suddenly said he got an internship with Tony Stark out of nowhere?" Tony opens his mouth, then closes it. "Exactly."
"Well who cares about those dipshits anyways. Speaking of which," he pulls out his phone with his free hand "I have to call my lawyers and see how many videos of your incident I can get down before they go viral," he grumbles. "Then, I'm gonna have to call your aunt." He visibly shudders.
"Nice knowin' ya," Peter mimics Tony's words from the last time Peter had to break news to his aunt. Tony shakes his head at the teen's tone and stands up, but for some reason Peter grips his hand tighter. Tony looks down as if he forgot he was holding onto Peter's hand at all. "Can you, um, stay? Please? I'm…" I'm scared to be alone. Tony eyes Peter carefully, searching his face.
"Of course, kid." He sits back down and Peter is able to let out a breath that he didn't realize had gotten caught in his throat.
"Sorry," he mumbles as he lowers his head.
"Don't ever apologize for needing someone, Peter. It makes you human. The last thing I want you to do is not ask for help if you need it, alright? Heroes need help too. If anything, we need it more than anything in our line of work. Especially after everything you've gone through." Tony's voice sobers, no longer holding any of the humor it had a few moments ago.
"Yeah…trauma isn't fun, huh?" Peter tries to relieve some of the tension, but even he knows he failed miserably. Still, Tony smiles slightly and keeps it going.
"Welcome to the PTSD club, kid!" he feigns excitement.
"We have a… club?" Peter tilts his head in confusion.
"There's two of us now, so I'm deeming it a club," Tony explains smugly. There's a few beats of silence and all the amusement once again dissipates. "I'm…sorry." Peter doesn't think he has ever heard Tony sound so sincere. It shocks him to the core. So much so that all he's able to do is stare at Tony with wide eyes for a solid, gut wrenching minute.
"What? Why? It's not your fault that jerk-"
"Not about that. About…about Toomes. Taking the suit. Letting you get hurt. Cancelling on you. Losing my temper. Yelling at you. Screwing up your childhood. Everything. I'm…not the best mentor, but I swear I'm going to be better from now on. I won't disappoint you again." Their eye contact is so intense that Peter is almost tempted to look away, but he doesn't. Tony's eyes are unwavering and his lips are pressed into a thin line. He's dead serious and it's honestly jarring.
"You're not a disappointment, Mr. Stark." Peter tries to put as much sincerity in his voice as humanly possible. Somehow, Tony chuckles lightly.
"You just haven't been around long enough yet." He takes a deep breath. Peter slowly lowers his head.
"I'm sorry, too. I should probably be more sorry," he chuckles quietly. When Tony shoots him a confused look, he elaborates. "I shouldn't have hacked your suit. Or not listened to you about, like, anything. I just…I wanna help people, y'know? I shouldn't have gone behind your back when you were just trying to help me and keep me safe. And…sorry about ditching the Tower when you told me to stay. I know you were just trying to make sure I didn't get hurt more than I already was." Peter awkwardly rubs the back of his head with a shy smile. "I can be a lot to deal with, I know… I'll cut back on the rushing into danger. I won't hide when I'm hurt, either. And I'll listen more, I promise." The two sit in silence for a few moments.
"I don't just deal with you. I care…about you." Tony sighs. He doesn't admit that to many people, and Peter knows that. He has to give this a shot. It's now or never. "It doesn't matter many spider powers you have. You're still a kid with your whole life ahead of you. You're a minor using my tech. Therefore, it's my rules, okay? I'm not trying to stop you from being Spidey, but I need you to learn that being reckless isn't okay. I will do what I have to do to keep you safe, no matter what that entails. Understand? We on the same page?" Tony stares at the kid for his response, hoping that he hasn't somehow scarred him. God, I'm bad at this. Peter nods thoughtfully as he absorbs Tony's conditions.
"Yes, sir. I understand. Can't save anyone if I'm dead, right?" Peter questions rhetorically with a laugh. Tony smiles, grateful that they're finally okay, and nods in agreement.
"Look, Peter." He only uses Peter's full name when Peter is either in trouble or he's trying to be sincere. Neither of which Peter is prepared for. Tony considers his next words very carefully. "I'm going to do my best to give you the damn world. You have to promise me that all you're gonna worry about is how you're going to change it." Once again, Peter is speechless. Of all the things he expected to hear out of Tony next, that wasn't one of them. How is Peter not supposed to start crying at something like that? He decides to blame it on the exhaustion. Still, he nods as tears fall onto the plain, white bed sheets.
"I promise."
Hey everyone! I usually don't leave comments at the end to not break the immersion, but I wanted to thank each and every single one of you for reading and supporting this fic :) Also, due to people asking to follow me on social media, I have two accounts on Twitter! I made /Kevy_Fanfics for purely fanfic related stuff and my personal account is /kevy_grayce for nerd related content. HOWEVER on /Kevy_Fanfics, I just put up a poll that you're more than welcome to vote on for what fic you'd most like to see! Requests and suggestions are accepted!
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