Somewhere nearby there was a sound, a familiar sound, that slowly broke through the haze of unconsciousness on Spencer's mind. He knew that sound, had heard it so many times before when waking up. Too many times. A low, steady beeping. One that was steadily increasing the more that Spencer fought his way out of unconsciousness. The more alert he became, the more aware of his surroundings, the more that began to register with him until finally, a word floated up in his consciousness. Hospital. He was in a hospital.
Unfortunately, the more that he became alert, the more he became aware of something else he'd much rather not – pain.
At first it was just his head. God, he had a headache! That felt like it should be important, like it should mean something to him – wishing, praying, please be okay, I'm so sorry Peter, so sorry Tony, can't let them be hurt, can't let anyone be hurt, throwing energy into his shield, gotta contain it – but it was getting so much stronger and Spencer couldn't think past it.
He flung his eyes open and gasped as something sharp and hot flashed through his body. There was barely time for him to even take note of the white all around him that verified that, yes, this was a hospital, before that flash of pain was back, stronger this time. It poured into him and Spencer was helpless to make it stop. Like a switch was flipped, he went from just the ache of his head to any agony unlike anything he'd ever known.
Everything was on fire. The whole world, it felt like it was burning around him, inside of him, and he wanted to scream only he couldn't find his voice. He couldn't find anything beyond the pain. Just the burning. Like acid no his skin and inside his head. It hurts, God it hurts! Someone, please, make it stop, make it stop!
There was something crashing nearby, he thought, a banging sound that he didn't recognize and then a voice shouting out "Hold him!" Someone else was shouting, too, only he couldn't make out their words.
Spencer barely registered his body moving, how he was trying to curl into himself, trying to hide from all the damned pain. Not until suddenly, hands were on him, and Spencer finally found his voice. The shock of straight, raw, unfiltered emotion slammed into him, on top of what he was already feeling, and it was enough to jolt him out of the haze over his head and back into reality. A scream ripped its way free at the same time that power arced over his body.
The hands left his body and Spencer let out a sob of gratitude as at least that edge was taken away. Some rational part of him, shoved back into the darkest corner of his mind, knew that the pain he was feeling wasn't right. It wasn't all his. But that part of him was buried underneath the rest.
More than anything, he wanted to get up and run, get as far away from the hands and people and pain as possible. Only, his body wouldn't listen to him, wouldn't move. All he could do was curl in on himself and sob and scream as his entire being felt like it was being ripped and burned and broken in a thousand different ways.
There was no telling how long it might've gone on. Spencer was losing himself underneath the pain. Any semblance of thought was being pushed aside underneath the waves of other people's pain. He was losing everything that made him Spencer. And then – then he felt it. A familiar presence right at the edge of his senses. It was like a voice shouting out through a crowd. Faint, yet there. Familiar enough to pull his attention though not enough to block out the rest of the sound.
Spencer tightened his hands in his hair and tried to breathe, tried to focus right on that feeling. Something about it promised safety deep inside of him. It promised comfort and easy smiles, a smirk and a hand on his shoulder, light laughter like crisp apples and worry that was almost always overshadowed by some kind of affection and a brightness that was amazing and awe-inspiring.
It got closer and closer and Spencer gripped tightly to it. The closer it got, the more that he was able to think beyond the rest of the pain. He blinked open his eyes and looked through a sheen of tears he hadn't even realized he was crying, watching as the door to his room burst open and the person behind the emotions came strolling in like some sort of avenging angel.
"What the hell is going on in here?" Tony demanded. He practically shoved his way past the two people who stepped up to him, eyes already landing on Spencer. There was something that Spencer thought might be relief that went through the man, followed almost instantly by worry and fear.
"Excuse me, sir, you can't be in here!"
Tony ignored whoever it was that was talking to him. He ducked under the hand that reached for him and moved easily around the next person. Then he was there, right there in front of Spencer, and the young genius couldn't have stopped himself even if he tried. He lifted his shaking hands and reached out to him. His hands caught the bottom of Tony's jacket, unable to reach any higher. But Tony solved that pretty quickly. He didn't hesitate to sit down on the edge of the bed and reach out a hand to push back some of Spencer's hair from his face. "Hey, kiddo. You gave us one hell of a scare."
The sound that Spencer made wasn't even enough to be considered a word. He brought his hands higher, gripping at Tony's jacket and using it to try and drag himself upwards. Tony let out a low "Woah!" but didn't try to stop him. Instead, he reached his arms down enough to help catch Spencer up in them, wrapping around his upper body and bringing him in close at the same time that he scooted onto the bed a bit more, until Tony ended up with one knee drawn up onto the bed and Spencer half draped over that thigh, his face buried against Tony's chest and his body curled around the man's hip. His thighs and knees were pressed up against Tony's back. It let him wrap completely around him and bury his face against the older man's chest.
There, hidden away from anything, and with Tony's emotions so close and strong – the physical contact made it so much better, so much easier to focus on just him – it let Spencer's brain clear enough that he was able to ignore some of the pain. Spencer couldn't help but let out a ragged breath that was perilously close to a sob. His arms slid under the man's jacket, curling around to clutch at the back of Tony's shirt, and it was perfect, it was just what he needed. Safety. Security. Comfort. When Tony's hesitant hold tightened a little, holding him that much firmer, it only made the feeling even better.
The sensation of being wrapped up in Tony's emotions was amazing. It was like a solid, warm blanket, curling all around him and blocking out the rest of the world until there was nothing that he could feel except for Tony's worry and that fierce protectiveness. Those worked effectively to block out most of the pain and suffering that he felt.
One of Tony's hands slid up to cup the back of Spencer's head. Not to pull him away or anything; just another point of contact between them. Spencer felt it as Tony shifted a little and dropped his head down, lips brushing against Spencer's hair. "You're all right. You're all right, Spencer." There was something heavy in his voice, a relief that washed over Spencer's body and drained away some of his tension just as it did for Tony. "Thank fuck you're all right."
"Mr. Stark…" someone started to say. They moved closer and Spencer couldn't help how he whimpered or pressed in tighter against Tony. He didn't want anyone close. He didn't want them to touch him again. Please, please, don't let them touch me again. Please!
He didn't realize that the words had actually come out of his mouth until Tony started to gently shush him. "Hey, shh, shh, no one's gonna touch you, not if you don't want them to." The hand against the back of his head pressed in and Spencer happily let himself get a little more hidden against Tony's chest. Holding on tight to the man, he gave up any pretense of control and let Tony do something that Spencer rarely ever let happen – he let the man take care of him.
Tony's voice shifted as he moved from speaking to Spencer to speaking to the doctor or whoever it was that was in front of him. The gentleness was gone. In its place was something sharper; the tone of someone well used to having their orders obeyed. "I need you to back up and get this hospital room clear as quickly as you can. Then I want you to gather together any paperwork you have on him and get it ready. My medical team should be arriving on the rooftop in the next five minutes. Once they're here, we're going to be taking him out of here and back to my facility to treat. I'll have my assistant contact you to set up replacement of anything that was damaged while he was here."
Damaged? Had he damaged something? Spencer didn't remember it.
Tony's hand rubbed lightly over Spencer's back and his voice shifted again, lowering into that gentle tone that Spencer had only ever heard the man use with Peter before. "Don't worry about it, Firefly. I've got it covered."
"Mr. Stark, I'm well aware that we're not exactly equipped to handle someone like your… friend. However, I cannot recommend that he travel, not until we've gotten a chance to finish assessing his injuries. What we've seen so far…"
"…is all you're going to get to see." Tony's voice was sharper now, and the protectiveness he felt grew even stronger. There was also something else in there now. Suspicion? Distrust? Tony either didn't trust or didn't like what the doctor had just said. Or both. Spencer found out why a second later as Tony spoke again, lower and just a bit dangerous "He's not a toy for you to play with, doctor. Whatever samples you've taken, whatever tests you're running, I'll be taking them with me."
Oh. Oh. Spencer turned his face in and pressed it tighter against Tony's shirt. The soft texture was soothing against his skin, and he rubbed his face over it in response, taking the comfort it offered. He should've figured. Hadn't that been his fear when he first came here? Being turned into some sort of science experiment, taken apart and studied by someone.
It would seem he didn't need to worry about that right now, though. Tony had it all handled. Which was good because Spencer wasn't sure he had room for worries of his own at the moment. Holding on to Tony like this, feeling the tiny bit of clarity, it was enough for him to begin to understand just how much of the pain he was feeling came from other people. Some of the pain was his, yes, but there was plenty that wasn't, and he couldn't separate the two. He could just barely recognize that it was happening; he didn't have anywhere near the strength needed to be able to even begin to pull up his mental walls. They were just, gone.
He was open and raw and, at the moment, the only thing standing between him and all the pain in this hospital was the protective layer of Tony's emotions wrapping around him. There was no way in hell Spencer was letting go any time soon.
Fear was an emotion that Tony was far too familiar with. He'd felt it so many different times in his life, on so many different levels. Meeting Peter had opened him up to all the new ways he could be afraid. All the new fears that could creep in to the most innocent of moments. Fear about hurting the amazing person who, for some stupid reason, actually looked up to him. Fear that he was going to screw things up. Fear that he would get Peter hurt.
Fear that he'd lose him.
That last one had come into play more than once. Anytime Peter got hurt as Spiderman, that fear was always there, the one that told Tony that he was stupid for helping Peter do this. It told him that he never should've put himself into the kid's life. That he should've tried to stop him, not enabled him to fight. The amount of guilt Tony felt at having brought Peter into things back at the start, for taking him to what ended up being a war between the two sides of his team, that was a feeling that was never going to go away. He could tell himself all he wanted about how he had hoped that things wouldn't escalate to a fight like it had, or that he'd only wanted the kid there on the sidelines. Fact of the matter was, he'd brought Peter there, and the kid had been hurt, and that was on Tony. He owned that mistake. Learned from it. Just like he learned from that shit show with Toomes.
Tony had come to accept that fear was just going to be a part of his life when it came to Peter. The good moments far outweighed the bad, and it was worth it. It was so worth it. Peter was an absolutely amazing kid, someone that Tony was better for knowing, and the older man would do everything possible to keep that kid safe for as long as he could.
That being said – he had no idea when he'd apparently started to feel the same way about Spencer.
The fear that Tony had felt after the bomb had gone off was something he could go his whole life without ever having to feel again. The whole team had searched frantically for any sign of him. When Tony had been ready to start blasting things apart just to find the kid, FRIDAY had saved them all by telling them "Boss, a nearby hospital just pinged one of my programs. They've got a John Doe in a supersuit who matches the Little Doc's description, just brought in two minutes ago. Someone found him in the street and brought him in for help."
That was how Tony had ended up here, cradling this young man to him while he waited for his team to arrive with the Quinjet. A hack into security cameras had verified it was Spencer that had been brought in. Once Tony had known that, he'd set off, barking out orders to the others to get to the jet and follow after him, prepare for a medical extraction. There was no way that they were going to leave the kid in a public hospital. Not with his powers – something the doctors wouldn't know how to take into consideration. It was a good thing he'd gone, too, because when he walked into Spencer's room the panic in the air had been thick and half the electronics in the room were already destroyed from the power surges he was letting off. Tony had reacted in the only way possible at that moment; he'd ignored the doctors and marched right up to the kid.
Tony could try and lie and say it's what he'd do for anyone – which, really, it was, he'd never leave someone with powers trapped in a hospital, it just wasn't safe to either party – but he knew it was more than that. There was no denying the protectiveness he felt as he cradled that slender body against him.
Spencer had always looked small in his eyes; he was shorter than Tony, shorter than Peter, and thin enough that it made Tony want to constantly push food at him. Now, wrapped up in a hospital gown and curled as tightly as he could get against Tony, he looked even smaller. Like a… well, like a child. It only made Tony's protectiveness grow.
The poor kid was shivering almost nonstop, and he kept pushing his face in and rubbing it over Tony's shirt, a self-soothing gesture that Tony knew he wouldn't have indulged in if he'd been in a better frame of mind. Things like that seemed to embarrass him normally. Right now, he either didn't care, or didn't realize he was doing it. Tony was betting on a bit of both. Just as he would bet that Spencer probably didn't realize how he was pulling his legs away from the blankets, or how he shivered harder each time he brushed against the sheets. Tony had noticed the kid's thing with texture a while ago; he doubted the bed felt all that great.
The communicator in Tony's ear came to life and he couldn't help how he slumped just a little with relief when he heard Bruce's voice in his ear, telling him "All right, Tony, we're here."
Reaching up, Tony tapped against the communicator, unmuting his end of things. "Thank God. We need to get him out of here now."
There was an immediate tension that was palpable even through the comms. "You need help getting him out?" Clint asked him. His tone was sharp, with a hint of the danger that people seemed to forget he was capable of. Spencer had made an impression on him. He and Peter both had. The archer was quite fond of them, Tony knew, and they both brought forward the Dad side of him.
Tony looked down at the boy huddling in his arms and debated for just a second. The way Spencer was holding on, it didn't seem like he'd let go all that easily, but Tony had no idea what his injuries were like. He hadn't taken the time to try and find out anything beyond the fact that Spencer was here and alive. But as he looked at him now, he could clearly see cuts and bruises that hadn't healed over, and it looked like there were a whole lot more peeking out from the back of the hospital gown. What Tony saw of the kid's back had him wanting to curse. "I don't know. Maybe. I haven't been able to check him over properly to figure out what he needs. But, at the very least I need someone to stick around and make sure they destroyed any blood samples they took from him. I get the feeling the doctor saw him more as something to study than as a person."
"I'll take care of that." This time it was Jim, and he didn't sound happy. Tony almost felt bad for anyone who was going to get in his way.
Clint was back on the line in the next second, and there were sounds that told Tony the man was getting up and moving. "Bruce and I are on our way. Need us to bring a bed, or we taking the one he's in?"
"Bring ours," Tony said immediately. He looked at Spencer's legs, at the way they were still twitching against the blankets, and he added on "Strip off the sheets, though. You mind if we borrow one of your blankets, Big Guy?"
Bless Bruce – he understood instantly. "On it."
Now all that Tony had to do was sit here and just wait. He adjusted his seat on the bed and drew Spencer just a little bit closer to him. Thank God the room had cleared earlier when Tony demanded it. The last thing Spencer needed was anyone else in here with them. He was going to hate it later when he was clearheaded enough to realize how he'd acted. Stephen and Charles both had warned Tony that empaths were generally very physical creatures. That they craved good emotions and positive touch the same way that most people craved air to breathe. But Spencer – Spencer seemed to like to defy expectations. Usually he avoided physical contact.
He indulged in little touches here and there with Peter sometimes. A light brush of fingers over Peter's arm, a bump of their shoulders, his feet tucked near Peter's leg if they sat together on the couch. They were all pretty low-key, and they were generally done on Spencer's terms. Tony had noticed that. Almost every time, Peter let Spencer initiate the contact, and he let Spencer dictate what it was and how long it lasted. It made Tony feel kind of proud. Peter was a damn good kid. While he might not understand why Spencer was the way that he was – he couldn't read the signs the way that the adults around him could – he was the most respectful of Spencer's boundaries.
This right here, though? This wasn't anything like what Spencer usually allowed himself. This was… it was Spencer stripped raw of all the walls that life had taught the kid to put up. Whatever had triggered it, fear or pain or a combination of the two, he didn't seem to have the strength to keep his usual control. The fact that he trusted Tony while like this, had practically leapt at him when Tony got close, was one hell of an honor, and one that Tony was going to do his damndest not to mess up. Even if he had no idea what he was doing and definitely shouldn't be in charge of an emotional kid. Ever.
A rap of knuckles against the door had Tony jumping a little. Spencer, though, he was surprised to find, tilted his head enough to peek out with just one eye, watching as Tony called out "Come in!"
It was Clint who came in first, pulling on the foot of their gurney, and Bruce was at the other end. Seeing them had Tony relaxing just a little. "Hey, kiddo, look who's here! The cavalry's arrived. You think you're ready to get on outta here and back home?"
"Hey, squirt," Clint said, smiling fondly at the teen who had yet to move. Bruce offered a smile as well, but he also grabbed the blanket off the bed and approached the two of them slowly, his eyes on Spencer's face the whole time. "Hey, Spencer. You look like you're more than ready to get out of here. We brought our own bed, and our own blankets." He stopped just a few feet in front of the two of them and stayed there, still watching Spencer carefully. "Do you mind if I come and help Tony get you onto our gurney? As soon as we do, we can get you out of here."
It looked like Spencer was torn. He eyed Bruce and the blankets, his longing easy for Tony to feel. The kid was projecting. That made it easy for Tony to feel his longing at Bruce's words, but also his fear. It only took a second for him to figure out what scared him. The way Spencer's arms tried to tighten around him made it pretty clear.
Tony looked down at him, nonplussed. This was so beyond his area of expertise. He had no idea how to deal with an injured and seemingly terrified kid. He looked up at Bruce and hoped his friend could help him out here. "I, uh, I don't think he's going to be letting go any time soon."
Something in Bruce's eyes flashed, a hint of understanding. Then he was nodding his head and he looked so calm, like this was all perfectly normal and made total sense, and Tony was damn glad at least one of them could be a rational, responsible adult right now. "That's fine," Bruce said, eyes back on Spencer again, or at least what little bit of his face the kid was letting show. "How about I pass Tony the blanket and he wraps you up with it? Then we'll see about getting you out of the bed."
That seemed to work well enough for him. Spencer nodded ever so slightly. He even shifted his legs, letting Tony and Clint pull the sheets away. As soon as the blanket was tucked around him, some of Spencer's tension faded. An itching sensation that Tony had barely been aware was there at the edges of his mind, tickling along his skin, was gone now, and wow, since when was Spencer able to project subtly enough that people mistook his projections as their own emotions?
What came next wasn't all that easy for any of them. They pulled the gurney right up alongside the bed and tried to shift Spencer over out of Tony's hold so that they could lay him down. He wanted nothing to do with it, though. His hands tightened in their grip of Tony's shirt and he plastered himself even closer. The whimper that slipped free when he pulled away from the others was enough to cut at Tony's heart.
Obviously this wasn't going to work. Later, Tony would try and analyze why. He refused to think about the warm feeling that it gave him to have Spencer choose him of all people to latch on to. For the moment, he focused on solving the problem, and really it didn't take all that much to figure out what their solution should be. "Well, I think that's enough of that. Brucie bear, brace the bed for me, would you? Barton, come stand behind me." Those orders given, he turned his focus to the teen in his lap and he gave Spencer his best smile. "All right, Spencer, here's what we're gonna do. You just keep hanging on like the little monkey you are and leave the heavy lifting to Barton and me. I'm gonna hold on here and he's going to reach out and catch your legs for us. You all right with that?" He paused long enough to give Spencer a chance to respond. When he felt the small nod against his chest, he beamed. "Perfect! Well then, let's get moving."
Thankfully, he worked with smart people, and the two other men seemed to understand what it was that Tony was trying to do here. Bruce nudged the bed a bit closer so that it was right by the leg that Tony still had hanging down. Then he braced himself against the edge of the bed and locked the wheels so that it wouldn't be able to roll away from them. Tony shifted around the weight in his arms until he was sure he had a better hold on Spencer. It wasn't like it was hard to hold him – the kid weighed far too little. Less than he'd thought, even.
With Spencer securely in his arms, Tony pushed his foot firmly against the floor and twisted his other leg just enough to get his heel planted on the bed. It moved Spencer more into his lap, less curled round him, and made it all the easier to hold him. Then, keeping that grip, Tony lifted the both of them and pivoted on his heel so that he could shift himself from one bed to the next without ever once moving Spencer out of his arms.
Clint was there right away, catching Spencer's legs as they reached the edge of one bed, and Tony noted that the archer was smart enough to curl the blanket around Spencer's legs so that his skin never once came in contact with the teen's.
Between the two of them they got Tony and Spencer both onto the gurney. Tony was trying to figure out how they were going to brace Spencer's legs without letting them dangle off the edge when the kid ended up solving the problem for them. He drew his legs up and away from Clint's hold and only winced a little as he brought them up towards his chest. His body compacted down into a small little ball in Tony's lap.
Tony exchanged a look with Clint and Bruce overtop of Spencer's head. He knew his eyes were wide and probably showed his panic.
Smiling, Bruce reached out and patted Tony's shoulder. Then he drew his hand back and pushed up the bars on one side of the gurney. It gave Tony something to lean against as he pulled up his other leg until he was sitting cross-legged.
He could only imagine what he'd look like to anyone else. Big, bad Tony Stark, the unfeeling businessman who was often called a 'cold bastard', who most people would say didn't deal well with others or with anything even skirting real human emotion – cradling a teenager and trying to hold him together. Hell, even Tony couldn't believe it, and he was the one sitting right here!
Not that Tony gave a damn what anyone else thought of him. Especially not right now. Let them think what they wanted. The kid clinging to him was the one that mattered.
Even so, he was a bit grateful when Clint draped a jacket over Tony's back, pulling the hood up to hide his head, and then adjusted the blankets to better hide Spencer. Anyone who didn't already know what was going on wouldn't be able to recognize them.
That done, the three men exchanged one last look, and Tony nodded. He kept a hold on Spencer was Bruce and Clint began to wheel the bed on out of there.
Getting up to the jet proved easy. Vision was there waiting for them, standing with the suit that Tony had left locked down on the roof when he'd landed here, and Jim showed up shortly after. Not a one of them questioned Tony the way that he thought they might. They didn't say anything about how he and Spencer were still curled up together. They didn't act like it was weird or anything like that.
Bruce secured the gurney into a special spot in the side of the jet. It was a place made to keep the bed steady so they'd be able to fly back any injured member if they needed to. Tony was grateful for it as Bruce got the gurney locked into place. Then the bars on the outside of the bed were lowered and Tony was free to turn himself and let his legs dangle off the side – oh thank God, he was getting too old to sit curled up like for long periods of time! – while still sitting back enough to keep Spencer steady against him.
The teen stayed sitting in Tony's lap, his forehead pressed against the side of Tony's neck and his hands clutching at the front of Tony's shirt. His legs were still curled in, but his feet were resting carefully on the bed at the outside of Tony's thigh. It was an easy position to hold him in. All Tony had to do was keep one hand curled over Spencer's hip, fingers brushing over his back through the blanket he was wrapped up in, and his other arm around Spencer's shoulder and curled up so he could keep his hand in the kid's hair.
For the most part Spencer wasn't really moving. His tension had visibly lessened when they got to the roof, and it'd gotten even better as the quinjet rose and took them away. He didn't move away, though. Occasionally his hands would clench or twist a little in Tony's shirt, or he'd rub his cheek against Tony's shoulder – again, over his shirt. Those tiny little self-soothing gestures that Tony was damn glad he was taking while at the same time it worried him. For Spencer to do be doing it meant he had to be a whole lot worse off than they'd expected.
With Clint flying them, and Vision as his copilot, it left Bruce and Jim free to stay near Tony and watch the two with worried eyes. Bruce gathered himself together after a moment. Tony could see it as the doctor drew in a few steadying breaths and got himself under control. Then he was smiling gently as he took a small step towards them. "Hey, Spencer. It's Bruce."
They all froze when, as Bruce was in the process of taking another step forward, Spencer flinched.
It was yet another piece of the puzzle for Tony. One that was painting a picture that made him feel slightly sick. "I think…" Pausing, he rubbed at Spencer's hair, wishing he knew what the hell he was doing here. "I think his walls crashed. He's been projecting almost nonstop, and he just sort of… latched on."
"He anchored on you." Bruce said, eyes alight with understanding.
Tony and Bruce had both spoken with Stephen about Spencer's empathy more than once. As Spencer's doctor, and the guy housing him, they'd felt it was important to try and understand as much as they could. Stephen giving Spencer books, that was great for Spencer and all, helped him study and learn his control. But Tony and Bruce had wanted to know what kind of things to expect, and how best to help him. One thing they'd learned was that when an empath's walls crashed down, they tended to latch on to someone as an anchor, using that person's emotions to help shelter them from those of the rest of the world.
The fact that Spencer had chosen Tony, well… it was astounding. Then again, it could've had something to do with the fact that Tony had been the one to show up while Spencer was trapped in a sea of strange people in a hospital.
God, a hospital! That had to have been hell for Spencer without his walls to protect him.
Jim must've been thinking along the same lines as Tony was. He grimaced and his expression was sufficed with so much sympathy.
"We need to look at him," Bruce said softly.
Yeah, they did. Tony just didn't have any idea how that was going to happen. Right now Spencer wasn't up for normal emotions, and he'd admitted before that Bruce's emotions were stronger for him than other people's.
He should've figured that Bruce would remember that and come up with a solution, though. "Colonel Rhodes, would you mind? I need someone to act as my hands for me. Right now… my touching Spencer isn't the best plan."
"Eventually you're gonna end up calling me Jim." Even as he said it, Jim focused his attention on Spencer, watching carefully as he opened up the rest of the armor and stepped out. It was a pretty seamless move, the braces on his legs only freezing for one brief instant before he was able to move again. Tony made a mental note to look at that later and see if he could get them to transfer from suit to ground without any freeze at all.
Then his focus was once more taken by the kid in his lap, who was shivering just a little but not pulling away as Jim got closer. Jim smiled at him and started to speak in a voice that Tony had heard talking him through plenty of breakdowns and panic attacks throughout their friendship. "Hey there, man. It's just me, all right? No one else is coming close. It's just me, Uncle Jim." The last part was said with a flash of a grin. Jim ignored the surprised looks he got at that title – since when was he Uncle Jim? – and took another step closer to the bed. "I bet things suck right now, don't they? I can't even imagine what it's like to feel what other people feel on a good day. Without your walls? Yeah, no. You've got a helluva lot of strength, man. I don't know how you do it. You're a strong kid."
For the first time since Tony had showed up, Spencer made a conscious effort to speak, even if it was just a soft and shaky "'M n-n-not" that kind of broke their hearts.
Leave it to Spencer to finally decide to speak again just to argue with them about him being strong. This fucking kid. Tony let out a breath and wanted to shake him.
Before Tony could say anything, Jim snorted. "Agree to disagree, man. You're not gonna convince me differently. Besides, we got more important things to worry about right now. Like the fact that you're hurt. You think I can come over there and take a look at things? I promise, I won't touch you unless you say it's okay. I just need to help move the blankets around a bit so the doc over here can make sure you aren't injured too badly."
"Not." Spencer croaked out. His hands clenched in Tony's shirt and he made a strange sound, clearing his throat maybe? Then his voice was back, just a tiny bit stronger than before. "It's… healing. I, I'm fine."
"Can we take a look anyways?"
After a long pause, Spencer finally nodded.
Jim and Tony had to work together to get Spencer even the slightest bit unwrapped from the blanket cocoon that he'd made for himself. Not once during the entire thing did Spencer move fully away from Tony or let go of him for longer than a second. Even then, he'd only let go with one hand at a time. But they eventually got the blanket down enough that they could keep it around Spencer's waist and allow him some modesty while letting his back be open and exposed for Bruce and Jim to look at. The angle was wrong for Tony; he couldn't see anything.
Thankfully, Bruce ended up declaring Spencer's back 'not as bad as I'd feared'. From what he said, it seemed to be mostly bruises, the cuts either gone or mostly healed already.
There were plenty of bruises that they found all over him. As they passed over ones on his arms and then moved down to look at his legs, Jim kept on talking to him, probing a little to try and get Spencer talking. It seemed to do the job. As they were looking at the big cut that was just now starting to try and heal – thank everything it wasn't actively bleeding – Jim finally got Spencer to tell them what had happened. Tony couldn't help but hold him tighter as he listened.
"I, I knew there was, um, there was no way you guys would be able to get close enough to help in time." Spencer's voice shook and Tony stroked at his hair like Jim did to him sometimes when he found it hard to say things, when the panic was too strong. It seemed to help Spencer the same way it always helped Tony. He spoke again, albeit still a bit shaky. "I couldn't… if I let you guys come over, you would've got caught in the blast and I just, I couldn't. So I, I tried my best to disable it. I have a bit of training with that. My team, um, back home? We've gotten too close to bombs too many times. I, I got tired of panicking and waiting for the bomb squad, so I went and, uh, and I got some training."
The more that he spoke, the stronger his voice got, the more sure.
He flinched slightly as Jim took a wet towel that Bruce had given him and used it to start cleaning up Spencer's leg. At the flinch, Jim murmured an apology, but Spencer waved it off. He'd turned himself a little now, his cheek resting against Tony's shoulder, face mostly hidden there. But he seemed comfortable that way so Tony didn't try moving him. He just kept on holding him as Spencer continued to talk.
"I managed to disable the EMP blast, but I didn't have enough time to disable the bomb entirely. I did the best I could to be able to minimize its impact and then I…" Here Spencer paused, going just a bit tense, and his hands clenched briefly on Tony's shirt. Worry washed over Tony that he knew wasn't his own. Worry and a small hint of fear. Fear of what, though? None of those emotions showed in Spencer's voice as he softly said "I, I used my energy and I, um, I made a shield. I couldn't contain it completely, I'm not strong enough, but… I kept it from going outwards."
"You directed the blast downwards." Tony filled in. The idea chilled him. He could see the logic behind it. Really, Spencer had done the best that he could in a shitty situation, and Tony couldn't say that he would've done anything different. Spencer's quick thinking had kept the EMP pulse from happening and it'd kept the bomb from exploding out and causing mass amounts of damage. Instead, he'd contained it, directing the blast down into the already damaged building, minimizing risk and damage. Logically, Tony understood. Emotionally? Yeah, no. Spencer had directed the blast of the bomb downwards in a building he was standing on top of. Judging by how the kid was found – a few blocks away from the blast, and down on the street – it wasn't hard to figure out that he'd been sent back by the blast. The fact that he wasn't a broken and bleeding mess was a damn miracle. "How the hell did you survive that?"
Tony felt his shirt get twisted in Spencer's hands, caught up and rubbed through those long fingers, and he knew the shirt itself was going to be a lost cause after this, twisted all out of shape and probably covered in bits of blood from holding Spencer like this. Spencer's breath puffed against Tony's neck as he tried to bury himself in a little closer. "I tried to catch myself. It worked, mostly. Slowed me down. But I landed a bit hard and I, I knocked out. Next thing I knew I was in the hospital, and I…" The shudder that ran down Spencer this time was strong enough to have Tony rubbing at his hair again. He felt moisture hit his neck and it was like a punch right to the chest. "God, Tony, there was just, there was so much pain. Everyone there hurts so much. I couldn't… I don't…"
"Hey, hey." Forgetting entirely about their audience, Tony ducked his head down and pressed his face as best as he could against Spencer's hair. "You're not there, okay? We got you out of there. You're right here with me and Rhodey and Bruce. Clint and Vision are here too, but they're up front, they don't count. You're with us, kiddo, you're not back there."
The tears against Tony's neck came faster and faster. Embarrassment and shame were easily felt coming off of Spencer, and those were emotions Tony knew. They were ones that he understood. He didn't need anyone to explain to him why Spencer was feeling that way. Just as he didn't need an explanation of what to do. Snagging the edge of the blanket, he drew it up again, pulling it up to Spencer's shoulder like he was trying to tuck him in and make him warm. Really, he was giving the edge of the blanket to him, letting it act as a barrier so that no one would see his face as he pressed it against Tony's neck and quietly cried.
As he tucked it in, he shot a look at his two closest friends, flicking his eyes towards the front of the jet and then back to them. They got the message. Jim set the towel down on the gurney and quietly moved back. Then, with Bruce at his side, the two made their way towards the front of the jet, leaving Spencer and Tony sitting together, alone.
Tony didn't say anything. If it were him, he wouldn't want anyone saying anything at that moment. Not while he was feeling so weak and raw. Instead, Tony just sat there and held on, doing the only thing he could do. He held Spencer together as he felt the teen break apart inside his arms, wishing there was something more he could do, something that would make this better.