Peter looked around in fear, listening to his own heart race and thud against his chest.
"Move and we shoot!" The leading cop shouted, all their guns pointed to Peter, who has one hand pressed against his own hurting chest.
"I didn't do anything!" Peter yelled back, because he hadn't. And he was injured, which meant running away was going to be harder to do this time. He shouldn't have gone out today. Not when he knew they were looking for him.
"I think we will decide that."
He'd never been this scared. He'd never been caught, and being caught was one of his biggest fears. Because being caught was just short of being unmasked, which was something he'd never do willingly.
"Spider-Man, you're under arrest for breach of the Accords." Another voice echoed in the dark alleyway, sending a shiver down Peter's spine.
Peter frowned, "The what?"
"The Accords. Hands up now."
"This is a mistake." He said, seconds from slinging away.
"Yeah, I don't think so. Now you wanna turn around, Peter?"
Peter nearly stopped breathing. He took heavy, shaky breaths and lifted up his hands, turning around to face the wall. He heard running behind him and was soon roughly being pushed against the wall as his wrists were grabbed.
Peter sat on the edge of the metal bench and stared tearfully at the flashing red bracelets they'd made him wear. Had they told May yet? Or were they going to just lock him away without another word? Maybe-
"Peter."
Peter looked up instantly, sighing a shaky breath of relief when he saw who was standing in front of him behind the bars.
"You're here to get me out, right?" Peter asked, hope lingering in his voice as he stood up and grabbed the bars.
Tony looked worried. More worried than he'd ever looked, in front of Peter at least. He didn't reply though.
"Mr Stark!"
"I-" he stopped and frowned, reaching through the bar gaps and placing a hand on Peter's shoulder. "I don't know."
Peter's eyes widened, tears about to fall. "What-what do you mean you don't know?"
Tony squinted and moved Peter's head with his hand, looking worriedly at the red marks. "What did they do?"
Peter moved Tony's hand, "nothing."
"That looks like something clawed at you."
"Does it matter? I might be stuck here for the rest of my life who cares about a scratch?"
Tony gripped his shoulder again, "I care. What did they do?"
Peter sighed, "they took off my mask."
Tony looked sympathetic, which was the last thing Peter needed right now. But he also had the "continue" look on his face.
"They forcefully took off my mask." Peter said, touching the horrible scratches and grimacing.
Tony ran a hand over his face, "they weren't supposed to find you. And if-"
Another voice interrupted. "If what?"
Tony turned around to see Ross standing behind him. He scoffed, "Of course you're here, behind all of this. Of course."
Ross scoffed, "Don't act surprised."
"I am surprised. Surprised that you're willing to stoop so low as to get a teenager warped up in all-"
"I warned you." Ross cut in, straightening his tie.
"You're full of bullshit."
Ross frowned, glancing at Peter. "He's an enhanced individual, who you knew about. So why? Why didn't he sign the Accords? He knew he was supposed to."
Tony sniffed in disapproval, "no, he didn't, because he's a kid."
"All Avengers had to sign."
Tony shook his head in disbelief, "Yeah, well, he's not an Avenger."
Ross raised his brows, "he fought as an Avenger."
Tony rolled his eyes, "I don't know whose feeding you this cracked-"
"Germany. Was he not there? Was that someone else swinging around in a red suit?"
"Red's actually a popular choice for superhero costumes. Me, that Ant guy...maybe your eyes weren't working."
Peter looked over to Tony desperately. His life possibly depended on this failing conversation. This failing conversation that was already half-based on lies. Because Peter was there with Tony. And Ross didn't actually care about that and was looking for something else.
"Drop the act. We both know you can't make him sign or arrest him."
"I disagree. You read them, right? The Accords? Any enhanced individual deemed to be a threat to the general public can be detained without trial."
"He's a minor."
"Yeah, well, the lines get blurry. He's also enhanced. A possible threat. An enhanced who didn't sign, most importantly."
"He's a threat." Tony repeated with a humourless laugh, "According to who?"
"To me. The Secretary of State."
Tony was glaring with bloodshot eyes. "He's a child. You know he's not a threat to anyone. Don't do this."
"You have to know where some of them are."
"You're still on your witch hunt. That's on me for being stupid enough to think you were mature enough to-."
"You look the other way, I'll do the same."
Tony looked over to Peter, who was waiting impatiently for the answer, but still looked down and spoke. "You don't have to do that. They're still your friends." Sure, he said it, but he didn't mean it. He didn't want Tony to leave him in here forever.
"How about we let him decide that, Spider-Man." Ross chimed in, looking over at Tony in anticipation.
Tony was stuck. Truly stuck for once. "You're sick."
"I'll be outside. Waiting for you to tell him you ruined his life. Literally."
There was a second of silence. Peter watched him leave and clenched his jaw.
"Peter-"
A click interrupted them and the glass in front of the bars slid open. Tony held on and looked sympathetically, about to continue.
"I'll understand if you...you know, if you don't do anything." Peter said, letting go of the bars and stepping back to sit on the bench.
Tony frowned when he stepped away, "come on, Peter, I'm not doing 'nothing'".
"What are you doing, then? You weren't the one who got the others free last time, you can't do anything." Peter said, panic arising in his voice.
Tony ran a tired hand over his face, "I'm-I'm planning, okay? We can think of something like-"
"Like what? He doesn't want anything else. He wants Captain America. And you don't have Captain America!" Peter shouted, unaware that he was now standing and leaning against the wall in panic.
Tony gripped the bars, "now's not the time for this, Peter, look at me."
Peter looked up, tears welling in his eyes. It hit him that this could end badly this time.
"I'd never just leave you in here." Tony said softly and firmly.
"Willingly. You wouldn't leave me in here willingly. What if you can't stop them?" Because Tony doesn't always have all the answers. Sure, he gets out okay most times, but he can't do everything. There are people more powerful than him.
"A day. You'll be out. Two at the most." Tony said.
"I'll be in here for a day?"
"Or two. But yeah. They can't move you anywhere yet." Tony stated, confident in what he said.
Peter looked at him suspiciously, "And how do you know that?"
"Contrary to popular belief, I did read that trash called the Accords. You know, jibber-jabber, 'waiting here for processing'. You'll see me again."
Peter clenched his jaw, "they know who I am now."
"It's not their business to tell."
Peter shook his head in disbelief, "but they can, can't they? Just get me out."
"I will." He replied, looking down at Peter. "Not gonna hug me a goodbye?"
"I'm literally in a jail cell. And you hate hugs." Peter said, walking forwards to the rods and holding them, resting his head against the middle and closing his eyes.
"I would if I could, actually." He smiled, "I know this sucks."
"I've never been arrested before." Peter stated dumbly.
Tony ruffled Peter's hair. Of course he hadn't been arrested. He was a perfect fifteen-year old. "It'll turn out fine."
Peter opened his eyes and looked up, "okay."
"Okay." Tony said, patting his shoulder and smiling. "I'll see you soon." He said, sadly looking at Peter before taking off. He didn't want to leave him here all alone. Who knows what could happen, and all he could hope was that there was no shady business while he was gone. Because with Ross, there always was.
Peter watched him leave and stepped back, sighing and sliding against the wall onto the floor. This was literally the worst day of his life. This was a nightmare come true.
A day.
He could do a day. Yeah. Totally. A day wasn't hard. It-
"Get up."
Peter snapped back to reality and lifted his resting head to see a man dressed in black standing on the other side of cell.
"What?"
"Are you deaf? I said get up."
That wasn't right. "Where are we going?"
"Okay, are we gonna have a problem here?"
The tone was more than threatening. Peter shook his head and grabbed the bench to pull himself up. The cell clicked open and the man walked in menacingly.
"Where are-"
"Arms forward."
Peter complied, reaching out as the man clinked his wrists together and locked them in place with something. He'd never felt so trapped before.
Peter was confused, to say the least, and even more scared. Maybe they were taking him out to kill him. Tony said he was supposed to stay here, so something wasn't right.
They walked down the corridor until they reached a huge door, which was opened by yet more men dressed in black. He was pushed in and he tumbled inside, looking up and frowning.
"Hello, Mr Parker." Ross smiled.
He stared back and was suddenly grabbed by huge hands, which dragged him forwards and sat him down on an uncomfortable chair.
"I know how to sit." Peter said sarcastically, looking at the man standing in front of him while trying to mask his own fear.
Ross scoffed, "I don't know what Stark's planning. But how about you help yourself out?"
Peter already didn't like the sound of that, so he didn't reply, just continued to stare like a hawk.
"Come on, Peter, we both know how you were spending your schooldays in July."
Peter tensed, looking discreetly to his sides as the men also stepped closer to him. He still didn't talk.
"That alone is enough to keep you here."
"What do you want from me?" Peter asked, tired of the playing around.
"Maybe you heard something. Chatter? You've been spending a lot of time in with Iron Man."
Peter pursed his lips, "He doesn't tell me anything about that."
"You expect me to believe he took you to fight them and he 'doesn't tell you anything'? You see how that's hard to believe, right?"
Peter looked around the dimly lit room. There were no camera. He took a shaky breath, "No. No, I don't know anything. He just helped me with my suit."
Ross stepped in closer, suddenly leaning in and grabbing the arm of the chair.
Peter moved back against the back and frowned.
"You know something. Think, Peter. Do you wanna go back home or stay in here for the rest of your life all because you didn't want to help us catch the bad guys?"
"If I knew something, I'd say." Peter said. That wasn't true, he didn't know if he would. Also, they weren't the bad guys. Tony had spent enough time drilling that into his head. 'They're not evil, Peter', and 'there was some miscommunication, Peter', and 'no one was thinking straight, Peter, leave it alone'. He'd heard those sentences a million times from Tony. Those along with the usual 'we'll talk about it later'.
Ross scoffed again, "no, you wouldn't. You all think - with your-your hero complexes - that everyone else is beneath you, because what? You swing around in a red suit saving cats from trees?"
Peter clenched his jaw now that this man was shouting directly in his face. "I don't think that." That was all true. He didn't think that.
"Come on, Peter. We're on the same page." Ross said with a horribly nice tone. It didn't suit him.
"Are we? Because you're threatening to lock me away all because you can't find one man in the space of six months and you think a teenager can help you." Peter replied.
That got him. Ross stepped back and nodded his head and the hands that had set him down were now grabbing him again, holding him in place.
"Let me go." Peter said, his voice staying unusually calm. "I'm fifteen, you can't-"
"Sometimes we need motivation, to do the right thing." Ross interrupted.
Peter blinked away tears, mouth agape, no longer trying to get free. He watched Ross reach into his pocket and take out something small. A syringe?
"Hey, hey, stop!" Peter yelled, sinking as far backwards as he could. "You can't-you can't-"
"People will do anything to feel in control." Ross mumbled, nodding his head at the men holding him down. "Maybe someone in here needs a reminder."
He felt nails dig into the back of his neck when they turned his head forcefully. He tried lifting his arms, which were also being held down. Then he felt a sting in his neck, and he took a few heavy breaths before he was let go.
"That wasn't so hard."
Peter blinked, falling forwards involuntarily before being pushed back against the chair.
"Do you feel that, Peter?"
Peter clenched his fists tightly, feeling his own nails digging faintly into his palms as everything went numb. He took heavy breaths and realised it wasn't going away - that suffocation.
"How hard it is to do something you don't even think about? To breathe?"
His vision was starting to blur, and his heart was racing.
"I would feel bad, but you're not all human, are you?"
He was crying. He didn't know it, but he was. He bent forwards and squeezed his eyes shut, listening to himself gasp for breath.
He felt a hand on his shoulder and opened his teary eyes to look at Ross with a questioning look on his face.
"I'm not trying to hurt you."
The words echoed in the back. Isn't that what all the bad guys say? Peter didn't say anything, just took short, snappy breaths and mentally cursed Ross for even saying that.
"I'm just after some very important information. You know," he shook his head and stood up, pulling up another chair to sit right opposite Peter, "people misunderstand me."
"I-I-" Peter squinted, his eyes blurring with the tears. What the hell did they give him?
Ross ignored that, "they fail to see the big picture. Look, you tell me where the runaway group is, and I get them. We assure the world that we're listening to their concerns." He explained. "People are protected the right way. Not by hippies running in where they see fit causing destruction wherever they go because they think they're too good for supervision."
Peter tried clenching his fists again, but his fingers didn't move this time. Everything felt numb.
"It's wearing off. There we go. Do you have anything you'd like to tell me?"
"I don't know anything." His voice was hoarse. This was annoying. He probably sounded like a liar, but why was it so hard to believe that a fifteen year old from Queens didn't know where Cap n' gang were hiding?
"See, that sounds like a lie." Ross said, sighing, "you're okay now, have you rethought your position?"
Peter sighed, "Mr Stark doesn't even trust me with a screwdriver. Why would he tell me where Captain America's hiding?"
"Okay, okay, if you're so set on that." Ross put up both hands in the air and looked aside for a moment. "But you know that they met, don't you?"
"What?" Who met?
"Stark. Stark and Rogers. They met after the whole escape? He came to the Raft, disappeared, went to see Rogers, I'm sure."
Yeah, he did that. He totally did that. He'd heard him tell Happy. He wasn't meant to know, though.
"I-I don't know. I was with Happy-"
"Don't bullshit me."
"Your entire case is bullshit." Peter said without thinking, looking up in realisation as soon as he said it. "I didn't-"
He could hear something scraping in the back, something juggling. Water? He turned his head as far left as he could and watched a few people scuffling with their backs turned. But his neck hurt. It was stiff.
"Where are we?" Peter asked, keeping his eyes on them. "If we're-"
"What laws protect a…a being like yourself? Huh?" There was a pause, "radiation. You're actually the second one I know. Like Dr Banner. He was-he was…well. You know him." Ross mumbled, not that Peter could actually understand what he was saying, or trying to say.
"What?"
"Blurry lines. That's all I'm saying. All I have been saying."
Then suddenly, he was grabbed and basically lifted off the chair. "Okay, okay, wait!" Peter tried, planting his feet weakly onto the floor, but he was still drowsy.
So it didn't do much good, they kicked one of his legs in and he lost control, falling forwards and continuing to be dragged across the room. His face scrunched up at the water. "Wait!"
Ross stepped in front of him. "What? Do you remember something, Peter?"
Peter looked back at him, "I'm-" he stopped and clenched his fists tightly behind his back. "Look, just-"
"Alright, then."
"No, hey! I can-"
He drew in a desperate, last-second breath of air as soon as he felt someone grab the back of his neck, knowing what was about to happen.
Then everything went black. His eyes were squeezed shut, and all he could hear was white noise blocking his ears. Blocking everything. He wasn't sure that he lasted more than just twenty seconds when he involuntarily inhaled.
It felt horrible, like nothing he's ever felt before. Because he's never drowned before, of course. He jerked, desperately trying to lift his head out of the water.
Then he saw flashes. Flashes of memories. May. Ben. This could be how he dies. Because why else is his mind showing him that? Maybe to show him what he'd screwed up. Maybe because these were his happy times. Ben glancing at May and quickly stashing her meatloaf in a tissue as she worked. But Peter can't remember when this is from. He can't even remember ever remembering that. And then it was May. May pulling him into a hug and it feeling like she'll never let go. Isn't this what-
Just as the memories and thoughts hit him like a train, he was pulled back to reality. Yanked back. He blinked rapidly and coughed, gasping and choking on water.
What the hell?
All he could hear was himself panting and his own suppressed cries. And feel the tears make their way down his cheeks as he tried, and failed, to stand up.
But then he was under again. And he was disoriented this time. Partly because he didn't see it coming, which was why he lasted just seconds before he found himself breathing in water. His knee slipped and he sank deeper. There was a struggle behind him until he was pulled back up again.
He couldn't stop coughing up water this time. If they hadn't been holding him up by his shoulders, he was sure he would've collapsed.
His throat was stinging, stopping him from breathing in the air that he so badly needed. Because maybe his mind thought he was in danger. Still underwater.
"That's it." A voice said in the distant, and then he felt tapping on his back as he started to cry. Because he was too lost. Lost and unhinged. He didn't understand or know what was happening, and his mind was having trouble putting together the pieces as he continued to try and just…breathe.
Then he blacked out altogether.
"And?"
"And? And I'm trying to get him free!" Tony yelled across his workshop.
"No one is doubting you!" Pepper shouted, just as fiercely, standing at the door. She took a calm breath and then looked at him again, "But-"
"I told him two days. I already wasted this one."
"You didn't waste it. You're trying your best!"
Tony scoffed, "really? I got him tied up in all of this. I never think, I just act." Tony said, slicing his hand in the air. "Now he's with that psycho, and I mean that, the guy's crazy! What he did when Bruce-"
"Tony, I'm just worried about you. We all are."
"About me? There's a fifteen year old sitting alone in a super-max cell because of me."
"Okay, well what are you planning? Can you at least tell me that?"
Tony contemplated it and flicked his finger at the edge of the table. "Ellis. Ellis is what I'm planning."
Pepper frowned, "Ellis as in our President, Ellis?"
"The one and only."
"What's he gonna do?"
"I saved him from death. Literal death, Pepper. That's gotta count for something." He leaned back against his chair, "why else do I do this? Favours go a long way."
Pepper rolled her eyes, "are you really asking me that? Because usually it's that you think everything that goes wrong in this world is your fault. That's the usual reason."
"No, I don't do that. I don't-"
"That and your inability to listen to what anyone else says. That also makes the list. Making people owe you favours usually doesn't."
Tony rolled his chair around, "okay, that's-that's funny. But I saved him. And he's the one and only person Ross reports to."
Pepper nodded, smiling "that might work."
"Yeah. It better." Tony said, "hey, can you ask MJ to do something for me?"
Pepper raised her eyebrows, "only if you acknowledge that she's also fifteen."
"She'll jump in."
He woke up with a sharp inhale, looking around quickly to see that he was back where he started. In the cell.
For a second, his mind was tricked into thinking that it might've just been a dream. That is, until he felt the dampness of his hair on the pillow, and reached to double check.
Then he froze. As if more movement would get him in more trouble. As if any movement might catch someone's eye and they'll take him back there. He felt tears in his eyes and slowly moved his arm, still staring intensely at the ceiling.
Then he finally moved, when the fearful paralysis was over. He sat up, bringing his shaking hands in front of his eyes. The flashing bracelet was still there.
Realistically, he knew there was nothing he could have done. They were stronger, there were more of them, they had him with these stupid things. But another part of him wasn't so sure. He could've said something else, right? There're always options. Otherwise-
"Peter. How are you feeling?"
Peter's head quickly turns to see the man who did all this standing in front of him.
Peter was scared.
It has to show, he thought, because he could feel the tears springing back, and his face was scrunching up in fear just thinking about the last time they met.
"Don't worry, I'm not here to take you." Ross said, as if that was meant to offer him complete comfort.
Peter continued to stare, his frown getting deeper.
Ross sighed, "you understand why that was necessary, don't you? It's standard."
Standard? Standard for who?
He still didn't say anything, though, because anything and everything could get him into trouble here. He doesn't need more trouble. He just wants to get out.
"On that note," he continued, "do you have anything to say to me? Maybe a memory was triggered."
Memories were triggered. Just not the ones that Ross was looking for. "No." Peter finally says, figuring it would be better to answer.
"In time. In time."
Then he left, and the lights suddenly went out. It was completely dark. It made him uneasy. Scared again. He didn't like this feeling, because its unnerving and unpredictable. It made his heart beat faster, and his thoughts wonder in places he didn't want them to. The prominent one being:
Is he stuck in here forever?
FHAFH
AFJAFJ
JAFJAJF
Tony barged through the double doors in anger, because hours of waiting and being told that there are "rules" he had to follow had almost brought him to a breaking point.
"Right across the-"
"I know where he is." Tony snapped at the man who condescendingly pointed the way to Peter.
He power-walked, passing empty cells until he reached Peter's.
Peter didn't seem to hear him come up, because his head is still resting on his palms as he sits up on the bench. Tony found that unusual, because Peter, who has super-hearing, doesn't hear him walk up? This is Peter, who says things like 'you're heartbeat's getting faster, are you lying, Mr Stark?'.
So Tony knocked on the glass, and the reaction he got was heart-breaking. Peter looked up in fear and surprise, relaxing immediately when he saw who it was. His eyes were bloodshot, but he smiled.
"Mr Stark."
"H-hey." Tony said in surprise, because the last time he left Peter, the boy was upset, sure, but he was full of energy, hope and countless other things that he usually is.
"Are you here to get me out?" Peter asked, aware that his voice was flat and pained as soon as he spoke.
Tony frowned at him, "uh, hopefully." He nodded, "what's going on?"
Peter lets out a humourless laugh, "I've been stuck here for-" he stopped and started thinking, then gave up and looked at Tony.
"Three days." Tony said shamefully, because he broke his promise.
"Right." He scratched the back of his head, "they wouldn't tell me the day."
Tony clenched his jaw, "who wouldn't?"
Peter wasn't even looking at him anymore. Instead, he was fiddling with the bracelet, "the big guard guys, and the old guy. Mr Ross." He says slowly.
"Ross was here? When?"
Peter looked up, "a few times." Peter mumbled, "When am I getting out? Because he kept saying I wouldn't and-"
"You will." Tony interrupted, grabbing the bars. Something was badly wrong. "Peter, what did they do?"
Peter didn't want to tell him. Because he felt like only a child would complain if he did. It was only a little water. "Asked questions." It wasn't a total lie.
"And?" Tony disregards what he's just said immediately.
Peter shrugs, "I don't know."
Then a buzz interrupted their painful conversation, and both the glass and bars slide to one side. Tony immediately walked in, standing over Peter and sitting down next to him when he didn't budge.
"You don't know? Gimme something here, kid."
Peter was still staring at his wrists, his fingers going over the bracelet over and over again. Then he looked up, "This is a bad place." His voice was full of emotions, of pain, as were his eyes.
Tony pulled him in by the shoulders, letting his head rest on his own shoulder. "I know."
"Can we go?"
Tony wasn't even one-percent convinced that Peter was okay, but nodded. "Yeah, guess so."
FAKFKA
AKFAKFK
KAFAKAK
"Okay? Just listen to him for once. He does this for you." May scolded, looking at her nephew in nothing but worry and fear.
Peter sighed, "okay. Okay, May."
May smiled, pulling him in for the hundredth hug. "I love you so much."
He smiled back, closing his eyes and keeping his hold. Because he missed her a lot. And what if he couldn't have seen her ever again?
"Okay, big guy, I have to go talk to Tony, he said something about..." she shakes her head, "he says a lot of things."
Peter laughs, feeling her ruffle his hair and then leave. And then he starts coughing again, because he still hasn't seemed to stop.
Bruce looked up and frowned, "Peter, you've been coughing since you got here."
Peter looked back, "yeah, it was-it was cold there." It was. That was the only explanation he could think of. Why else?
Bruce was concerned, to stay the least, but he didn't express this. He didn't want to ask why Peter wasn't jumping around like a cat like usual, because he doesn't need to. He knows why.
"Are you sure you don't want to get checked out?"
"Yeah." Peter says quickly, leaning back against the sofa. He stared at the ceiling with no real thought in mind and then…and then he felt like he wasn't getting enough air. So he sat up again in a panic.
And of course, Bruce noticed…again. Peter could see that he did.
"What?" Peter asked, pretending like the last five seconds didn't just happen.
Bruce just looked in worry and sighed, "you're sure you're okay?"
He wasn't, but he couldn't say that. Five days wasn't that long. Water wasn't a big deal. He'd tell May eventually, he'd decided, but no one else.
He was hunched over, and there was a lot of arguing in the background. A lot. Then the doors swung open and he weakly looked up.
"Peter, anything? Did they give you anything?"
Peter looked at Tony, who is just so upset. So, so upset. And worried out of his mind. It showed.
This wasn't a secret. Not worth dying over.
"They gave me this-this thing to make me…dizzy. I-I couldn't breathe properly."
"What was it?"
Peter brought up a hand to his chest, and Bruce got an oxygen mask ready.
Peter shrugged, "an injection, I don't-I don't know what." He said between breaths, and the oxygen mask was placed on him by Bruce.
Tony wasn't happy with the answer. It wasn't a lot to go on. "Anything else? What do you remember?"
He remembered everything, of course.
"Uh." He squinted, "they put-they put-" he had to try extra hard to breathe now. "Me underwater."
Tony nearly lost his balance. His teeth were grinding against each other, and he could feel his own eyes water.
Peter hated the reaction.
"You mean. Ah, Peter, they drowned you? He drowned you? Is that what you're telling me?"
Peter wasn't sure what he could say that would be the right thing to say. Tony sounded mad, and he should be. Peter should've told him. "I guess."
"Y-you guess?" His voice sounded hurt. "I asked you over and over, and you didn't-"
"Tony." Rhodey cut in, because this wasn't the time. Or the place.
"I didn't-I didn't want to tell-" he was breathing faster again, but he didn't need to finish his sentence. It's pretty self-explanatory.
Peter was also upset now, because it seemed that everything he was saying was just making Tony more upset.
"Why not? This was-you should've told me. Or your Aunt. Did you tell her? Did you tell May?"
Peter had tears in his eyes, "No. No, I just-he kept saying it's 'only a little water' and-" he sighed in frustration, "I just didn't want to tell anyone, okay? is that so bad?" His voice was muffled in the mask.
Tony exhaled, and now he felt bad. For standing here and looking down at Peter as if he was scolding him for doing something terrible, and it's really not. Because who did he tell when all that stuff happened? No one. And he'd go crazy if someone made him feel like that was a bad thing.
"No." Tony said, "no, it's not." He ran a hand down his face and moved forwards, squeezing Peter's shoulder.
Peter crumbled in the hold, his head falling forwards against Tony's chest, who wrapped him into an embrace. "I'm sorry."
"Secondary drowning. Water in the lungs."
Tony squinted, "what?"
"Probably from the-" Helen pursed her lips, unsure of whether she should say it out loud, because it is a horrible thing to do to a anyone, let alone a fifteen year old. "-you know."
"Is he okay?"
"Yeah, now he is. You know, there are tells and signs, it's hard to miss."
"And if we did? Miss it?"
Helen stared, "uhh," her eyes narrowed, "death, probably." There had to be a better way to say that. "But we caught it. And I've fixed him up." She said quickly and cheerily.
"Death." Tony repeated.
"Yes. This only happens in less than two percent of cases, and you know, trouble breathing, sleepiness, be glad that you caught it." She said. "I have to go."
"Right. Thanks."
"No problem."
May opened the door to Peter's room as soon as she left, closing it behind her carefully and looking at him with her perfected worried face. And Tony got ready, to face the anger she so clearly needed to express.
She smiled though, sadly.
"Listen." She sighed, "he doesn't tell me a lot. About what he does." She was clearly upset. "I don't know if he tells you or-"
"He doesn't." Tony interrupted, wanting her to know that it wasn't like Peter trusted him more than his own aunt, which is how she might have felt.
May nodded, "well, I find out when it's bad. Like nightmares kinda bad, because then he has to tell me. But this…" her face scrunched up, her eyes red and watery.
Tony looked down, "we'll help him."
"Of course we will. He would've been so scared and…" her sentence faded and she looked back at him. "I have to call someone."
"Who?"
"I'll be back" She said, rushing off.
Tony looked back at the room and squinted at the sight of the empty bed. He looked around and sighed a breath of relief when he saw Peter standing, facing the window.
He slowly opened the door and Peter glanced at him before looking back out.
"You okay to be up and running around already?"
Peter hung his head down, "I didn't actually get hurt. This was just…unfortunate." He said in a quiet tone.
Tony sighed, "unfortunate, yeah, that's-that's one way to see it." He cleared his throat, "listen-"
"I really don't need to talk about it." Peter said, but it came out like a question.
Tony raised his brows, "sure? Coz it doesn't like you're sure."
Peter stiffened, "I just, look I don't need you to feel like you have to talk to me about whatever."
Tony cocked his head, "I don't feel like I need to, I want to."
"No you don't." Peter frowned, turning to Tony for the first time since he'd walked in. "No one likes talking about things like this, it's awkward, and uncomfortable and…." Peter said quickly as matter-of-fact.
That was true. "I do. I think it's important to talk about things that are awkward." Tony said in his parent voice.
Peter shook his head, "no, Mr Stark, you don't. You never do it."
Tony huffed, "That's-that's not true. I talk to…people that…" he made vague hand gestures and sighed, "you know-Pepper. There's Pepper." He mumbled, not making any sense.
Peter frowned in confusion, "see, you don't." He repeated for the third time, "And I understand it now. I get that. I get that hurting my arm isn't the same as…" he left it unsaid, throwing his hand up in the air rubbing his temple, "I don't want to talk about it, or think about it. Ever again."
"Yeah, well that's a perfect world, because that's not how things work."
"They could work."
"No they couldn't. You're fifteen. You get nightmares." Peter looked up at him in surprise, "You think this will just go away? You're wrong."
It came out harsher than he intended.
"Maybe."
"Maybe? Definitely."
"Like you said. It's how things work."
"That's not what I said."
Peter looked at Tony and moved forwards, startling Tony when he pulled him in for a hug. Tony reciprocated.
"Thank you. For helping me, even if you think it was your fault."
Tony smiled as they broke the hug, ruffling his hair. "You're a good kid."
I might continue this one as a separate story later on. Thank you for the reviews! Leave one if you get a chance!
This was for a prompt by nolovelosthere :)