The room was unnaturally quiet. All conversations were hushed, eyes frequently fluttered over to the elevator, and in the center of it all, Tony sat at a table by himself, his half-finished glass of scotch clutched tightly in his hand. No one had the heart to try to take it from him, even though it was much too early to start drinking. They knew he had stayed up all night, but didn't even know what they could possibly say to him that he would even process. He was nearly impossible to communicate with on a good day.
The only person who was in worse shape than Tony was Wanda. She had managed to keep Peter asleep for five hours, but had collapsed from exhaustion shortly afterwards. She wasn't used to using her powers for such an extended period of time, especially her mental manipulation abilities. Vision had to carry her back to their room, and everyone was surprised that she was already awake, considering she could sense all of their jumbled emotions and it was undoubtedly causing her pain just to be in the same room as them. No one envied her ability to sense emotions at times like this.
Peter didn't leave his bed even after Wanda's influence ended. F.R.I.D.A.Y. reported that he fell back asleep after an hour of staring blankly up at the ceiling. According to the AI, he was still sleeping, albeit fitfully. Everyone secretly wished he would stay asleep so he wouldn't have to face reality. Of course that didn't happen, though. That would mean the Avengers would have to have had some good luck.
"Mr. Parker is awake and requesting that he not be disturbed," F.R.I.D.A.Y. announced.
Tony took a big swig of scotch before saying, "That's fine, but if he tries to hurt himself, leave, or mess with your programming, tell me right away."
If anyone thought that was too extreme of a precaution, they knew better than to say it. It was impossible to reason with Tony when he was like this.
"Understood. Should I have the cooks prepare him a meal?"
Tony grimaced. "I doubt he'll be able to keep anything down, but it can't hurt to try."
"Mrs. Parker is calling," F.R.I.D.A.Y. said somewhat sadly, knowing her boss wouldn't take this well. "Mr. Parker was supposed to call her last night."
"I'll tell her if you don't want to," Steve said softly. He didn't know how much more Tony could take.
"No. I should be the one to tell her. She'll blame me either way," Tony said in complete resignation as he headed into his office to take the call in private.
That was the sad truth of Tony's life: he was always the one that people blamed. Even if he hadn't gone on the mission, May would blame Tony for making Peter an official Avenger and inviting him on the mission. The fact that Peter had tackled the man specifically because Tony was defenseless only made things worse.
Steve sighed. "I'm going to go punch things."
Everybody except for Wanda and Vision joined him.
Peter woke up remarkably clear-headed considering he had bashed it against a metal wall only a few hours ago. Everything came across a little too clearly, though. He thought he had finally perfected blocking out all of the unnecessary stimuli years ago, but it felt like he was fifteen years old again and terrified of what that damned spider bite had done to him. All of the colors were too bright, the images too detailed. He could feel the individual fibers of his silk sheets sliding across him as he sat up. He could smell the sharp mint of his toothpaste wafting in from his bathroom. He could even taste the air. It was overwhelming, to say the least.
Hearing was the most painful by far. The humming of the wires in the walls, the air pounding through the vents, the water swirling in the pipes, the wind howling outside, the distant whirling of the elevator cables. He pulled his headphones out of his bag and slipped them on, sighing in relief. They were designed to cancel out all sound. Peter and Tony had created them together a year ago, but he hadn't needed them much.
Tony. Oh, God, he'd puked in front of Tony. He hadn't meant to, but he just hadn't been able to stop seeing the blood. He knew Tony wouldn't judge him for that, he knew none of them would, but he wasn't ready to see them. He wasn't ready to do anything yet.
"F.R.I.D.A.Y., can you tell them to leave me alone?" Peter asked, slipping off his headphones slightly to hear her answer. He knew from experience that she was required to tell Tony when he woke up after being injured on missions.
"Of course. Please tell me immediately if you need anything," she said.
Peter just slipped the headphones back on and stepped out onto the balcony. He realized that he was wearing a baggy t-shirt and sweatpants, but he'd been wearing his suit when Wanda knocked him, which meant one of them had changed his clothes and tucked him into bed. His money would be on either Steve or Tony. They acted the most like his father figures.
Speaking of his suit, he'd lost the mask during battle and blood coated the gloves, so Tony would need to fix it up. Not that Peter thought he'd ever be able to put on the suit again without seeing phantom blood. Actually, the more he thought about it, the more disgusted he was with himself. He couldn't claim to be a hero after cracking a man's head open effortlessly, even if the man was an evil HYDRA agent who'd tried to shoot Tony.
Peter looked down in surprise when he felt his fingers begin to tremble. The same thing happened after he fought the Vulture, but it always ended whenever he noticed. Instead, his hands began shaking even worse. Almost in response, the truth about last night truly sunk in. He had killed a man.
He knew that Tony was right, technically speaking. Peter hadn't tried to kill him, he'd just acted instinctively to protect Tony. No one could have predicted that it would end so horribly. Suddenly, it became hard to breathe. Peter sat down heavily, his breaths becoming nothing more than gasps as reality hit him. All of Wanda's dream effects had faded, leaving him in a world that was too sharp and bright and cold and outlined in blood. Peter had never more desperately wished that drugs worked on him so he could numb the pain that was slowly consuming him.
He leaned his burning forehead against the cold rails of his balcony as bile rose. It was like his body was punishing him by taking away his control. The wind picked up, already irritating his already overwhelmed senses. For a truly horrible moment, he considered flinging himself off the balcony before realizing that even a normal person could survive that fall.
Peter stumbled back into his room, bumping into a couch, his bed, and the door frame before collapsing over the toilet and retching. The cold porcelain soothed his skin, but the sharp scent of the chemicals in the room drove his nose insane. Not to mention that the lights were burning his eyes.
"F.R.I.D.A.Y., turn the lights off," Peter managed to say before retching again. They turned off instantly.
Since he still had his headphones on, F.R.I.D.A.Y. projected a dim screen in front of him that said 'Should I contact someone to assist you?'
"Not yet," Peter whispered as he flushed the toilet. Barely anything had come up, but the smell made him want to puke again.
'Breakfast is arriving right now. I advise you to drink some fluids and attempt to eat something once your nausea passes,' she projected.
Even if he'd prefer to have Karen watching over him, he was slightly relieved that he wasn't entirely alone. F.R.I.D.A.Y. didn't know what happened though. Karen did.
He saw out of the corner of his eye that one of the many butlers Tony employed had set down a tray on his table and left quickly without having any trouble navigating in the dark. They knew better than to linger, even if he doubted that the butler had noticed him. Many of them were ex-S.H.I.E.L.D. agents, albeit the lower levels, and were trained extensively in how not to piss off the Avengers, and (more importantly) how not to startle them. Since all of them were paranoid and trigger happy, those skills were essential.
It was several minutes before Peter was able to shakily walk over to the table. A full platter of eggs, bacon, toast, and fruit stared back at him, and two glasses, one full of apple juice and one of water. Completely ignoring the food, Peter picked up the glass of water and began rinsing out his mouth in the sink. F.R.I.D.A.Y. flashed more warnings at him saying that he needed to eat which he easily ignored. He knew that whatever he ate would just come right back up.
After rinsing out his mouth thoroughly and drinking some water, Peter got dressed in jeans, a t-shirt, and a hoodie. Staying in his room was starting to feel suffocating so he decided to go outside.
"F.R.I.D.A.Y., where is everyone?" Peter asked, pulling on socks and shoes.
"Mr. Stark and Dr. Banner are in the labs, Miss Maximoff and Vision are in their suite, and everyone else is in the training room," she said, then added, "If you are going to leave your room, I need to alert Mr. Stark."
"That's fine. Tell him that I'll be in the orchard, but I still want to be alone," Peter said, standing up. He needed to find his enhanced sunglasses before he went otherwise he couldn't leave at all. Too much light would hurt his already hypersensitive senses.
"Mr. Stark has agreed to this provided that you bring your phone."
"Got it right here," Peter said, tucking it into his pocket and ignoring the six missed calls from May.
After slipping on his sunglasses, Peter ventured outside.
"Tony, I really don't think that you should be drinking this much," Bruce protested as his best friend poured himself another shot.
"Really? Because I think I need it," he said, returning to his work space. He was uploading Karen's interface to one of the many Spider-Man suits he had ready for situations like this.
"He's leaving his room. That's good," Bruce said, trying to cheer up his friend.
Tony snorted. "You try explaining to May Parker what her nephew did next time then. Not that there will be a next time."
"She can't seriously blame you."
"No, she blames all of us this time. We corrupted her sweet child and now she's threatening to never let us near him again," Tony said bitterly.
"It's not like May can actually stop him," Bruce pointed out, trying to remain optimistic since his friend was clearly falling apart.
"Bruce, do you really think Peter will want to continue being Spider-Man after this? He's only a teenager and he just killed someone. That kind of thing leaves scars," Tony said, unplugging the mask and checking the wiring. Bruce didn't bother ask why he was fixing Peter's suit if he thought that the kid wouldn't wear it anymore. He knew Tony hadn't given up completely.
"He's not just going to walk away after everything he's done with us. Besides, he adores you. He'll want to see you again."
"It's not that simple. You know it's not. What did you do after you transformed into the Other Guy for the first time?" Tony demanded.
"I ran, but I didn't have anyone who would follow," Bruce said easily. It had taken awhile, but his past no longer haunted him. He was satisfied with his new life with the Avengers. "He does."
Tony sighed. "Emotions are exhausting. How do people handle this stuff?"
"You're a genius. If they can handle it, so can you."
"You're a surprisingly good cheerleader."
"I spent a few weeks at the Bartons'. Taking care of the kids and taking care of you are remarkably similar," Bruce teased.
Tony snorted and tossed a rag at Bruce. "Clean up. Rogers will drag us upstairs for dinner if we're not there in two minutes."
"Maybe you should go check on Peter first," Bruce suggested. "I can set aside a plate for you."
"F.R.I.D.A.Y., where is he at?" Tony asked.
"Southeast end of the orchard. Do you want me to call him back to the Facility?"
"No, I'll go to him. Anything I should know before I go?" Tony asked as he shrugged on his suit blazer.
"Mr. Parker is experiencing extreme hypersensitivity. It would be in his best interests for you to not touch him and to speak softly."
"Great," Tony groaned, getting into the elevator alongside Bruce, who gave him a sympathetic pat on the back. "Bruce, I have a favor to ask of you."
Tony found Peter easily. The orchard wasn't that far from the Facility, nor was it very big, so it wasn't hard to spot the young man lying flat on his back beneath the apple trees. Tony approached slowly and noticed that the kid had both the headphones and sunglasses Tony designed for him on. Actually, it looked like the kid was asleep, only the rise and fall of his chest proving that he was breathing at all.
"I'm awake. You can come closer," Peter said, staying exactly where he was.
"Can you even hear me?" Tony asked, worried that the headphones weren't totally soundproof. Tony sat down awkwardly next to the boy he considered a son.
"F.R.I.D.A.Y. told me you were coming. I turned down the sound cancellation so I can hear you," Peter said, his lips barely moving.
"Have you eaten anything today?"
"I had an apple. That was all I was able to keep down."
Tony winced. With Peter's enhanced metabolism, that wasn't just worrisome, it was dangerous.
"Did you tell May? You must have otherwise she would have kept calling."
"I did," Tony confirmed. "She'd like for you to come home tonight, but said she'll understand if you want to stay the night. It's your choice, of course."
Peter's fingers curled almost imperceptibly around the grass blades beneath him as he said, "I should go home. May's probably freaking out."
"No offense, kid, but if you go home like this, May will freak out even worse. Have you even looked in a mirror today?"
Peter's silence was answer enough.
"You need food and a shower. I'll drive you home after that."
Peter sat up slowly. "You know, you really don't need to take care of me like this."
"Yeah, I do, kid. I really do."