Chapter 3: May Parker
"He suffers from PTSD," Doctor Gina Atwater revealed to May and Tony Stark.
May sharply inhaled, taking in the announcement with distressed expectance. It was not unusual considering everything Peter went through since the day of the Midtown attack. She heard many children had to see psychiatrists to help them recover. Mrs. Leeds even confirmed that Ned went to see a therapist. Why May never suspected Peter needed to see one was what bothered her most. Did she truly think it was over?
Doctor Atwater continued. "I conducted a CPSS and Mr. Parker scored a twenty-one. Average for those who suffer from PTSD."
Tony blew out a stream of air. "Okay. What's your recommendation, doctor? Does he need to be medicated? Or—"
"Medication might do little considering Mr. Parker's genetic make-up," Doctor Atwater said, flipping through Peter's file. "I do believe talking to someone will help him. I could suggest a child psychiatrist for you, if you like?"
Tony and Doctor Atwater turned to May as one. Tony spoke. "What do you think?"
What did she think? She thought this was all madness! She wanted it to go away! She wanted her old life back with Peter as a happy, normal kid rather than the celebrated, traumatized kid who was alone in his doctor's room. But, what could she do? She had no power to change that fate. Only the power to remedy those mistakes and help her nephew carry on with his life.
May took off her glasses and rubbed her tired eyes. "I'll do whatever you suggest," May said to Doctor Atwater. "Whatever we need to do. I want him to get better."
Doctor Atwater affirmed with a nod. "I'll make a call."
Tony helped May out of her seat. Doctor Atwater promised to send May more information on children suffering from PTSD to help her understand what Peter was going through. May thanked her and walked out of the office with Tony at her side.
As they headed toward Peter's room, Tony went into more detail on Peter's episode. He explained that Peter's already heightened senses would overwhelm him if he was experiencing any extreme stress. Like most humans who have anxiety, their senses are dialed a bit more and in Peter's case, his dialed far too much for him to handle. Therefore, Tony did his best to dilute the senses with the sunglasses and noise-canceling headphones.
"How do you know this already?" May asked, silently berating herself for not knowing what to do. She was his aunt! She should know how to take care of her nephew like she used to do when he was younger. "How did you know what to do?"
"Barton told me," Tony simply answered. "Gave me instructions on what to do if it ever occurred. I expected it might happen after his visit to the school, so I was looking for the signs throughout the conference."
And now May knew too. She would be able to help Peter next time he suffers from another episode of PTSD. She tucked her arms around her. "Well, thank you," she said. "For helping him."
"Always and look, we've all been there," Tony said as a way to comfort her. It didn't. "I think every Avenger at one point sought counseling. I know I did. Granted, it wasn't with an actual psychiatrist, but still a doctor. The point I am making is that Peter will overcome this. Time and talk will help him heal."
Tony paused, stress sagging his face. "I know it's not what you want to hear," he said, "but it's the truth. Peter's strong. He can get through this." He jabbed a thumb randomly behind him. "My door is open. So is Pepper's and Rhodey's. He's welcome to talk to anyone of us. Whenever he wants. Our doors are open. For you as well."
"Thanks," May said, blinking more than she should to keep tears from spilling out. "I'll let him know that."
"Good," Tony said before jerking his head to the other end of the hallway. "I'm going to check in with Pepper. She's probably already writing up a statement to keep the press from tearing all of this to pieces."
Tony bid her farewell, leaving May with the privacy she wanted with Peter. She entered his hospital room, finding Peter still on the hospital cot. Although she couldn't see through the sunglasses, she imagined Peter's eyes focused on the bland ceiling above him. Headphones were still clasped to his ears, tuning out all sounds. He didn't hear or see her coming until she was a feet away from the bed.
Peter took off the sunglasses and pulled the headphones down. "I'm sorry, Aunt May."
May was taken aback. "For what? You didn't do anything wrong."
"Feels like I did."
"You didn't," May reassured him, brushing his hair back like she used to when he was a child, sick with the flu. "How're you feeling?"
"A little better," Peter adjusted himself on the bed, sitting further upright than completely on his back. "At least, I can see better. The lights aren't as bright anymore."
"That's good," May said with a smile.
"Is Tony upset?" Peter asked. "You know... for ruining the press conference?"
"He better not," May commented, but she knew Tony Stark wasn't mad at all. Concerned, but not angry.
Peter's lips dipped. "Wait… is he? I'm sorry! I didn't mean—"
"Peter, no one's mad at you. Not even Iron Man."
Her reassurance did little to keep Peter from looking unsettled. "Will I have to do the press conference again?" Peter asked.
"Only if you want to," May said as she would back whatever Peter wanted to do.
Peter immediately shook his head. "I don't."
"Then you are officially done," May concluded, smiling at him. "You did your time."
Peter lightly chuckled at that. "Yeah, I guess I did."
Once Peter felt a little more better, May got him discharged from the medical wing and they headed back to their apartment together. May made a quick batch of pasta for Peter, which he scarfed in seconds. And then he went back into his room, changing out of his clothes into something more relaxed as he tinkered with his robotic arm in his bedroom.
May let him do whatever he wanted for the rest of the day. Doctor Atwater kept her promise and sent her a small binder of information on PTSD. May spent her afternoon reviewing it, reading over cases and symptoms and treatments and among other tidbits that may be useful for her.
Doctor Atwater also sent her the profile of the child psychiatrist she suggested. May reviewed the man's credentials and his medical history. Dr. Leonard Skivorski, Jr. seemed well versed in child psychiatry and worked with multiple PTSD patients from veterans of war to the terror that occurred in New York years ago. May researched further until she felt completely comfortable with the idea of Peter being in the same room as the doctor. He seemed like a good fit, but only Peter could tell her if he was a good choice.
It was dinner time that May decided to get Peter's input on the idea. They were scraping their plates, eating the last bit of chicken and potatoes. Peter was finishing up his third plate, contemplating on finishing the last of the bowl, when May got the courage to ask him.
"Peter?" May began, pushing her empty plate aside as she folded her arms on the table. "I wanted to run something by you."
Peter swallowed a piece of chicken. "Yeah? What is it?"
"Tony and I talked a little with the doctor and we think it may be a good idea that you visit a psychiatrist maybe once a week?"
Peter looked ruffled. "A psychiatrist?" he muttered in a surprised tone as he placed his fork down. "You think I need to see one?"
"I just... I want to let you know that you have options," May corrected in hopes not to offend him. "Lots of people struggle after witnessing something traumatic. It's nothing to be ashamed of."
"I'm not ashamed."
"So... you'll consider seeing a psychiatrist?"
Peter's mouth squished in the corner as he pondered the idea. "I... I don't know."
May's heart dropped. "No one thinks you're weak, sweetie," she said. "Tony told me he spoke to a doctor as well when he struggled through his PTSD."
Peter's shoulders dropped. "Yeah, but it only happened once," he countered. "I don't have it all the time. I don't go crazy."
"I'm not saying that you go crazy," May assured him. "I'm saying it because I am concerned about you. You got me worried at the press conference and I don't like seeing you in pain.
"If seeing a psychiatrist can help, then I am willing to give it a shot," May said in her final bid to get Peter to agree with the idea of seeing a professional psychiatrist. "But, it is up to you. I'm not going to force you to see one, but I think it will do you a lot of good."
May waited, watching Peter mull over her words as he decided on an answer. She knew Peter thought she doubted his capability and mental strength, but May didn't. In fact, she always considered sending him to see a psychiatrist since Ben died. She thought it was a good idea, but the cost made it impossible for her to schedule a session. But, with Tony Stark as a benefactor, maybe Peter can finally get the help he needed for all of trauma he experienced in his life. Starting with the sudden abandonment upon the death of his parents at an early age.
Unfortunately, Peter wasn't on the same wavelength as her. He shook his head. "I don't think it's necessary, Aunt May," he claimed. "I mean… one incident doesn't require medical help. And, I never needed it before. Not with Uncle Ben or my parents. It was nothing. It was just nerves more than PTSD. You know how much I hate public speaking. That and talking about the attack, which I haven't ever done… it's nothing. Really. I'm fine. I don't need to see a psychiatrist."
Peter pulled the bowl close and scooped the last crumbles of dinner onto his plate. He picked up his fork to return to his dinner, shoving the last bits of potatoes in his mouth to quench his constantly hungry state. Meanwhile, May slumped in her seat, watching Peter continued as if life was back to normal in Queens.
May curled up in the sofa chair, watching over her sleeping nephew. Peter was unaware that she snuck into his room, which was great as May didn't want him to know that she did. The first night Peter returned home, May slept on the chair in Peter's room. She feared that if she closed her eyes, he would be gone again and wanted to stay in the room to check on him if needed.
However, this night, she camped out in his bedroom on Doctor Atwater's advice. She wanted May to watch him sleep, see if he experienced any sleep terrors, nightmares or sleep-walking. Any signs of physical symptoms of PTSD. In the past three hours since Peter went to be, he's slept comfortably. No sounds or stirs.
May stayed vigilant though, sacrificing her good sleep for the sake of her nephew. She spent the time reading over the news. The press released their versions of the press conference. Many wrote about Peter's bashful, but polite nature, describing him as a normal teenager. And all of them reported on the episode, taking pictures of him either being lifted out of his seat by Happy Hogan or Tony cupping his ears.
There weren't any pictures of her and Peter. Sometimes her arm came into the frame or a strand of her red hair could be seen near the border, but most of the pictures focused on Peter or on Peter and Tony Stark.
Videos were posted of news anchors discussing the homecoming, along with their debate on Peter's PTSD. Almost all were sympathetic to Peter's distress. A lot of them brought on doctors to their shows, asking them questions about Peter's mental health and advice. They all agreed that he needed to see a psychiatrist.
"Anyone who is put in a situation like that does not come out unscathed," said Dr. Anthony Ludgate Druid. "A kid like Parker, even with superpowers, makes the situation even worse because he may believe that it's his fault. In his mind, he should have been able to protect his classmates from this attack because he's super-powered. And the fact that he couldn't, well… it will make him doubt himself and add more self-blame."
May sighed, rubbing the back of her neck as she watched more and more doctors agree with type of psyche Peter may be experiencing from his return to New York. It made May nervous. All of these traits all lead to destructive behavior if he didn't get the necessary help that he needed.
It was close to around two in the morning that Peter shifted. May became alert in an instant. She watched as Peter nestled in his blankets, murmuring gibberish underneath his breath. His legs twitched a bit as he flopped his head around the pillow.
His gibberish became clearer and May listened. It was still a bit nonsense, but she recognized a few words. He mentioned Ned's name. Tony's. Her name. And MJ. He said her name a couple of times.
May still waited. She didn't approach. It was still relatively inactive movements. Nothing serious that required her to wake Peter up.
But that turned quickly when his voice got louder. The kicking got stronger and he clutched his blankets so tight that it thinned underneath his powerful grip. Sweat glistened in the moonlight that came through his window as his face pinched in terror.
"No… no… Uncle Ben!" Peter's voice cried. "I can't… MJ! Ned! I… May! MAY!"
May leapt out of her chair and rushed to Peter's bedside. "Peter?" her voice shook as she bent over him. "Peter! Peter—wake up!" May took his shoulders and gently shook him. "Peter!"
Peter's eyes snapped open, wide like saucers and dark as caverns. Silent panic that hyped them both in a heart pounding, brain on fire moment as it tried to work out conflicting instructions. May bent lower, coming next to him, reaching for his forehead.
Peter's face seized up. Before May could soothe the fear out of those dilated eyes, a fist barreled right into her stomach. The room rushed in a blur, yet she still saw Peter in clear view. Her eyes never left him.
Then impact. She expected to feel pain. Any kind of pain.
All she got was utter darkness.