Chapter 30: Aftermath
As soon as Tony is able to get his arms around Peter, he rockets them both into the sky. He doesn't like the fact that this is the second time he has carried a semiconscious vigilante to the Medbay. Thankfully, Peter seems a lot more aware than he was last time. He has his mask back on to help lessen the effects of the sensory overload, but he still has his hands clamped over his ears to block out the wind.
"That's a big booboo," Peter comments, looking down at his leg. It's glistening with fresh blood from when he was hit by Mysterio's laser. Luckily, the laser cauterized it for the most part and the wound across his abdomen isn't as deep.
"Don't worry, I'll get you some Spidey themed band-aids," Tony assures in a lighthearted tone.
"Dr. Cho's gonna be pissed." Peter chuckles at the thought. Dr. Cho did say that she didn't want to see him in the Medbay again. Oopsies.
"Yeah, can't help you out with that one, kid." Tony glances at his ETA of two minutes. He decides to get Pepper on the phone, not particularly in the mood for a short-tempered Helen or a murderous Aunt May. Pepper answers with a slightly strained voice.
"Oh my god, Tony, do you have him?" she immediately asks.
"Of course I do. Have Helen get prepped, I didn't want to deal with-"
"The communication?" Pepper supplies for him.
"Exactly. See, this is why I love you. Tell her to bring everything she needs up to the penthouse, I'm not dealing with the same shitstorm as last time. Speaking of which, handle the PR, too. Enough is gonna be going on with the news and emphasize that we don't have any comment. Oh, and catch May Parker up on the situation. Have Happy pick her up and drive her to the Tower. How's the news?" Tony asks carefully, not quite sure if he wants to hear the answer.
"Could be better," Pepper answers vaguely.
"Great. See you in a second."
"Fly safe," she urges.
"I've got precious cargo here, Pep. I'm not gonna be doing backflips through the sky," Tony responds sarcastically.
"Watch your tone." With that, Pepper ends the call. Tony turns his attention back to the masked teen in his arms.
"How you doing, kid?"
"I'm so sorry." That wasn't what Tony was expecting to hear. "I'm so, so sorry."
"Pete-"
"I didn't mean it. I didn't mean any of it," Peter forces out, tears flying out of his eyes and into the crisp night air.
"I know you didn't, bud. Don't worry about it. Just focus on you," Tony reassures in a gentle tone.
"Mr. Stark, my stomach hurts. Everything hurts," Peter mumbles. If he could, he'd curl into a ball and shut the world out until his crazed senses calmed down.
"I know, tell me about it. Let it out." Tony quickly rethinks his wording. "But if you vomit, don't vomit on me. Just let me know and you stick your head away from the suit. Don't vomit on me, that's all I'm asking." Peter breathes a laugh.
"No promises," he warns. Then he flinches, seemingly out of nowhere. "But can you calm down, please?" Tony has to tell himself not to scoff.
"Maybe if you didn't go out and get yourself drugged and beat to hell, I'd be more calm. I swear, I should sue you for the amount of years you're taking off my life with all this-"
"I can hear your heartbeat," Peter softly interrupts. "It's kinda loud. And fast." The thudding of Tony's heart sounds like the giant drums Peter had to be around during band practice. Band was bad enough without super hearing.
"You can…you can hear my heart? Through the suit?" Tony clarifies. The idea of Peter being able to hear his heartbeat through a sense dampening mask, his hands, and a titanium-gold alloy suit is a little more than disconcerting.
"Welcome to the world of sensory overload," Peter congratulates facetiously. Tony lands on the balcony of the penthouse, his metal-covered feet sounding with a clank. His faceplate lifts as soon as he touches the ground and he gently lets Peter stand on his own. Surprisingly, Peter doesn't favor his injured leg. His heightened senses are bothering him way more than any pain ever could. His skin prickles more than it should at the hardly brisk air and the already dimmed lights of the penthouse still make his eyes sting. Despite this, he can see Dr. Cho standing inside with her arms crossed.
"Hey, Dr. Cho," Peter greets in a sheepish whisper. "How's life?" he asks conversationally as he casually leans on the wall. The wall is colder than he expected and he immediately stands back up straight. Dr. Cho isn't amused.
"I remember telling you that I didn't want to see you back with a medical emergency," she recalls firmly. Peter keeps his eyes narrowed, even with the mask on, to help block out some of the artificial light. His senses are steadily getting less tolerant of his surroundings as the hallucinogen leaves his system.
"Well, it's been a, been a rough day." Peter clears his throat, careful to keep his tears away. All he can see in his mind is the boy's tear-stained face and the mom's resolve before she died to save her son.
"Peter." Peter flinches at the voice and looks back up to see Tony a step closer. He hadn't realized he zoned out.
"Sorry, yeah?" he quickly responds in a hushed voice to not hurt his own ears. It's hard to focus.
"Think you can walk over to the couch?" Tony asks carefully, eyeing the teen's wobbly stance.
"Mhm," Peter hums affirmative, not daring to nod his head. The room is already spinning enough as it is. He tips slightly, but Tony is there to steady him before he can fall. Tony keeps both hands on Peter to make sure the kid stays upright. They hobble over to the couch, each of their footsteps echoing too loudly in Peter's head, and he plops down on the soft cushions. What's worse than the footsteps are the heartbeats. He can hear both Tony's and Dr. Cho's as they stand close beside him.
"I'm going to need to look at that leg," Dr. Cho informs. Peter jumps at her close voice with a small gasp. This has to be the most humiliating thing he has ever gone through. He isn't used to having sensory overload around anyone besides May.
"It'll heal fast," Peter instantly provides. Honestly, Peter doesn't know if it will. All he knows is that if Dr. Cho tries to go poking and prodding, it'll be excruciatingly painful with his senses in overdrive.
"I'm sorry, Peter, but it's my job. I need to take a look at your leg and abdomen. Then I have to make sure the drugs are out of your system," she calmly explains, making sure to maintain eye contact. Peter, however, can hardly keep his eyes open. He blinks multiple times and hears his mechanical lenses adjust before he chooses to shut his eyes entirely. "Peter?" Please, be quiet, he wants to say. Instead, he clenches his teeth and takes a deep breath through his nose to steady himself. His grip tightens on the couch cushions.
He can feel the heat radiating off the lamp beside him. Spots dance behind his eyelids. Every ounce of noise, light, and sensation assault his very being. Then, everything becomes so jumbled that he can't discern one sound from another. It's too much. It's all too much. Every sound is like a hammer being struck on a microphone. All of his muscles are tense and he just wants to jump out of his skin.
What he isn't prepared for is his mask to be pulled off his head. Just the feeling of the fabric being dragged across his face is enough to send him reeling. He jerks away from the sensation and backs up into the corner of the couch. Hands on his shoulders send jolts of pain down both of his arms, but before he can react, something cool is being placed over his face. His first instinct is to rip it off, until he feels a cool breeze over his mouth and nose. His rigid muscles start to relax and a grateful calm washes over him. It's a welcomed feeling compared to mere seconds ago when it felt like his skull was about to implode.
He carefully opens his eyes, feeling kind of fuzzy, and sees Tony's creased face. Tony dutifully scans Peter as the teen slowly comes back to reality. Peter can feel the pins and needles in his hands and alternates between clenching and loosening his fists.
"You with us, Pete?" Tony asks in a still too loud whisper. Peter blinks his eyes to help them adjust to the light, but slowly nods in response. Then, he notices the non-rebreather mask on his face. When he goes to touch it, Tony gently stops his hand. "Ah ah ah, don't touch. It's helping." Peter notices that it isn't just oxygen and chuckles lightly.
"Guess anesthesia can actually be helpful when it wants to be," he mumbles and lays his head back. "Are, are Ned and MJ okay?" He feels guilty for scaring them enough to make them call Tony. The last thing he remembers hearing from his suit is Karen's short-circuiting voice. Peter suddenly bolts upright. "What about Karen?! Is she gonna be okay?!" Tony startles at Peter's sudden movement, but recollects himself.
"She's going to be just fine. We'll fix her next time we're in the workshop, okay?" he offers. Suddenly, Peter's eyes start to brim with tears, completely blindsiding Tony.
"I gotta get him back," Peter says with determination and resolve. "He, he…that woman, Mr. Stark." And lord, does Tony know that exact same feeling.
"You need to get healthy before you get back out there. I'm not sure I want you-"
"I heal fast. I gotta get him back," Peter repeats, shaking his head which only causes his tears of anger to fall.
"You could've died, Peter," Tony tries to reason with him. Tony never wants to sound desperate, but the last thing he wants is Peter diving headfirst into a fight running purely on rage. That's a bad mix, he would know.
"Yeah, but it didn't take. I'm not the dying type." Only the people around me die, Peter adds in his head. "You didn't see that kid, Mr. Stark. How, how he screamed and begged for Spider-Man to do something to save his mom." His voice wobbles. "And I couldn't do anything. Spider-Man couldn't do anything. I watched a woman die tonight, and that's on me," he quotes Tony's words from the ferry, hoping it'll convince his mentor. What he doesn't know is that Tony regrets those words every damn day.
"Kid, it wasn't your fault. I know you know that-"
"I'm supposed to be the hero and, and it is my fault! Again! It's always my fault!" Peter grips his hair tightly between his fingers. Tony delicately unfurls the teen's fingers.
"It was never your fault," he gently whispers. Peter knows he isn't just talking about the mother's death.
"He died right in front of me." Peter lowers his head, exhausted and unable to make eye contact. "I wasn't old enough to help my mom and dad, and then when I was old enough…I still couldn't save Uncle Ben. Even with powers. And, and then I couldn't save that boy's mom. What kind of hero am I?" He covers his eyes with his forearm and cries silently.
"The selfless, compassionate, empathetic, caring, one. The best kind," Tony answers honestly. Peter sniffs and looks up, hating how pathetically powerless he feels. "And I'm not just saying that. I mean it. Kid, there's no one who deserves to be a hero more than you. Any other teen that'd get superpowers would show them off to go viral, not pull people out of burning buildings. You do good, the thing you have to come to terms with is that we can't always save everyone. And that isn't your fault. It's those assholes out there who choose to hurt people. You did everything you could tonight." Tony does his best to put as much sincerity in his voice as he can, because he means it with every fiber of his being.
"That boy doesn't know that," Peter whispers, holding Tony's gaze. Another tear falls down his cheek, but Tony is the one who wipes it. Tony takes a deep breath. He's still trying to figure out this whole "encouragement" thing.
"I'm not gonna lie, I'm not great at this. I don't do reassurance or affection. I never got it at your age. But I promise you that when I say I believe in you, I damn well mean it." Peter stares at him with pure pain and guilt in his eyes, but manages a small smile.
"Stupid childhood trauma," Peter laughs weakly. Tony smiles at Peter's strength to laugh even when he's breaking.
"Tell me about it," Tony chuckles humorlessly. He runs a hand through Peter's hair, an action he never would've seen himself doing before, and takes a deep breath. "I'm sorry." Peter looks up at him, his eyes narrowed in confusion.
"For what?"
"You took a hit, kid. A Tony Stark shaped hit." Tony avoids eye contact at all costs.
"Mr. Stark…if this isn't my fault, then it's not your fault either," Peter reasons. "You didn't do anything wrong. You were there for me when I needed you and…I appreciate that," he admits honestly. Tony lets himself indulge in this rare moment, and smiles slightly.
"Thanks, kiddo."
After Dr. Cho cleans up Peter's leg as well as his abdomen and, begrudgingly, only bandages the wounds instead of stitching them up, May makes her entrance. It's a loud, rushed, very dramatic entrance of her running out of the elevator.
"Surprise…" Peter greets meekly.
"What the hell did I tell you?!" May demands as she engulfs Peter into a massive hug. Peter no longer has the non-rebreather mask linked to him, which he's grateful for.
"May-"
"No," she pulls away to look at him, "I told you what that gas could do to you. Not only that, I told you that I would not be able to emotionally or mentally handle seeing you get hurt on the news of all places! Do you know how stressful that is for a parent, Peter?" Seeing her red, swollen eyes behind her glasses makes Peter's stomach knot up. He hates causing this.
"I'm so sorry," he whispers.
"This isn't okay. Seeing you getting drugged and beat up on live television is not okay," May scolds with a tight, stern voice. Tony doesn't dare to interrupt them. "You're my kid and I cannot lose you. Not to some creep with gas, that's for sure. I kept praying that I wasn't going to watch you fall off the Empire State Building." She easily gets her point across with a trembling voice and watery eyes. Peter can't tell if her voice is trembling from anger, sadness, fear, or a mix of the three.
"I know. I'm really sorry. I was trying," Peter repeats, his own eyes starting to water. He doesn't want to upset her more than she already is. May is all he has left.
"Baby," May's voice softens slightly, "the last thing I want to see is a repeat of Homecoming night. You're only sixteen, you have your whole life ahead of you. You can't live your life if you're holding a ferry together or under a collapsed warehouse." This causes Peter's stomach to drop and his eyes to widen.
"You, you know about the warehouse?" Peter asks breathlessly, shock evident on his face. His heart picks up speed.
"Oh sweetheart, I wasn't born yesterday. I can put two and two together." May smiles sadly and rubs the back of her hand over her nephew's cheek. She takes a deep breath and kisses his forehead. "I'm going to go talk to Dr. Cho." With that, May gives Tony a look masked with cold, barely contained fury and walks off towards Dr. Cho. No one can dish out glares like May Parker, which Tony quickly realizes.
"Well that was a shit show. She's…mad," Tony observes. Peter rubs his hands over his face.
"Very mad." Not that he can blame her. Honestly, he would be mad too if he were lied to about his child's health and well-being. He already needs to start thinking of ways to make it up to her.
Since this story is going to be reaching it's end soon, I already have the next story cued up :) I put up a poll on my Twitter /Kevy_Fanfics for how often you'd like the next story to be updated, since it's shorter. Thank you so much! Have fun and stay safe❤ 💛💚💙💜