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”Alright, Petey,” Ben smiled. “I’m going to grab May’s lunch stuff for tomorrow. Why don’t you pick out a snack and a movie for tonight?”
”Like from the Red Box rental?” Peter asked as the two of them walked into the convenience store.
”We can buy it, if you want?” Ben suggested. “Didn’t you mention that robot superhero movie was out on DVD now?”
“Big Hero Six? Yeah, I saw the commercial.”
“If you can find it, we can get it. You got a scholarship to Midtown, you’ve earned it, kiddo. “
The two Parker men-- well, one man and one boy-- separated to their selective parts of the Quick Check. Each had a mission, each happy to do so. Ben headed to the back of the store where lunch meats and bagged chips, along with a little off brand SubWay sandwich counter, were for his wife’s lunch tomorrow. He enjoyed making special little lunches for May, especially leaving little messages on rice krispies. That was Pete’s idea, and it always made her smile. Sure, that might’ve been years ago, but it stuck.
Speaking of Peter, what he needed was in the front. He grabbed a Crunch bar and a York peppermint patty for himself. The thirteen year old boy searched the first two aisles for any sign of the movie-- so what if it was animated? It was still good-- and nearly passed by it before spotting it out of the corner of his eye. Before heading to the back, Peter grabbed Kit Kat for his uncle. “Hey, Uncle Ben,” he called. “You want a Kit Kat? They have the dark chocolate ones.” Besides the cashier, there wasn’t anyone else inside, so it wasn’t like they were disturbing anyone.
“Sure, why not?” he replied. “Just a small one though, not a king sized or anything like that. Maybe one of the little bite sized one, if they have it”
“Alright,” He swapped out the bar of chocolate to the little packet of bite sized ones. Double checking that he had the right items and wasn’t missing anything, Peter made his way to the back. He plopped Ben’s snack on top of a small box containing rice krispy treats with a smile. “They had the bite ones.”
“Yeees,” Ben grinned. “Best candy, ten out of ten.”
”I wouldn’t say the best, but they’re pretty good.”
”Dark chocolate plus wafers equal heaven,” the older man argued. “Didn’t you just get into a STEM school? Shouldn’t you know basic math?”
”I dunno, I think I’m going to have to double check your work.”
”I might be able to allow that.”
The two then made their way to the front counter, happily teasing back and forth. The store’s front door clanged as they briefly stopped to go grab a carton of milk down of aisle.
Everything felt perfect-- they were going to order Chinese, eat a bunch junk food for dessert, and probably pass out watching the movie. He got into Midtown with a full paid scholarship! Of course, regarding his grades stayed up, but still! Peter felt on top of the world. He was caught up in his internal celebration so much that he hadn’t quite noticed Ben holding his arm out in front of him, “Peter, be quiet and stay behind me.”
”What? What’s going on?” Peter asked, brows furrowed in concern.
”Shhh,” Ben shushed. “I don’t know yet…”
”I told you to open the register. Now!” A gruff voice shouted from the front of the store.
Oh god. Oh shit. Holy shit. Peter peaked tried to peak over the rack of items to see what was going on before his uncle pulled him down into a crouch. “Stay down,” He whispered. “And follow me.”
As silently as they could, the two snuck along the back towards the front doors, abandoning their items from the store. There wasn’t an easy access to the back door-- that was behind the counter. Their best bet was the front.
”How many people came in here, bitch?” the robber screamed at the cashier, who was trembling and trying her best to stay alive. She pressed the under the counter button that automatically calls the cops, but until they got here, she was on her on. “How many?”
”N-n-nobody,” She lied. “J-j-just.. Just me.” That man walked in with a kid. A child. She wasn’t going to risk their lives.
”You’re lying. I saw people come in here…”
”N-n-no! I-I promise, I-I-!”
Bang!
Peter felt himself jump a little as the gun went off, trying his best to not hyperventilate in fear that the noise might give them away. Ben place held his shoulder tight. He was trying to console his nephew, but he had to admit, he was just as terrified. Truthfully, he didn’t know how they were going to get out. If they could get out. All he knew was that he was going to protect his nephew with his life. Peter was like the son he and May never had, even if he weren’t their own. He would protect his brother’s son. His son.
The robber started walking up and down the aisles, loudly, and his footsteps echoing on the grimy tile. He stayed silent, keeping and ear out for away sounds of shuffling as he cocked the gun. He was getting close. He was going to see them. Ben knew this, and he had to act fast. Think fast.
Parents would do anything and everything for their kids, right? Having a kid meant sacrifice, in every sense. You gave up your free time for them, spent money on them instead of yourself, and lived for them. It was rewarding to watch the child grow up in return. Sometimes, in the extreme cases, you really did have to make a sacrifice for your child. Ben saw a cardboard Goldfish cut out holding different flavors and boxes, and as he knew, the backside was hollowed. Peter loved hiding in it as a child, and even though he hadn’t for years, it still looked like he could fit. “Peter,” Ben whispered, holding both of the boy’s shoulders. “Listen to me. I need you to hide behind this like you use to, okay? You can’t come out of there until it’s safe. You need to stay quiet and hidden now. Promise me you’ll do that.”
“W-wait, what about you? We both can’t--”
“Promise me, please.”
Peter was silent for a moment before nodding and murmuring a promise almost too quiet to hear.
”Thank you….” Ben ushered Peter back with this, hoping to whatever god there was that he was doing the right thing. “I love you, kiddo.” Although he was complying with his uncle’s wishes, Peter couldn’t help how terrified he was-- there was a robber, the cashier was shot and is probably dead now, the robber was walking around looking for them, and Ben wasn’t hiding.
He wasn’t hiding.
This couldn’t be happening.
It can’t.
He could hear police sirens speeding towards them. It was going to be okay, it had to be. Someone was going to save them. They were going to go home and have their family night. Right?
Just as Peter was out of sight, the criminal man rounded the corner to see the eldest Parker right there in the open. It wasn’t like in any of the movies-- there wasn’t any back and forth. There wasn’t any pleading. No dramatics. Just….
Bang!
Bang!
”I knew that bitch was lying,” The criminal grumbled. The sirens were close now, and he took that as his cue to leave. Meanwhile, Peter was left on his own. The only survivor. The teen’s hands were clamped tightly over his mouth, hot tears pricking his eyes and streaming down his face. He wasn’t even able to cry out for his uncle in risk of exposing himself. All he could do was watch his uncle slump down from a small hole in the cardboard. Once the murderer had gone, Peter crawled out from being it and too his uncle’s side. There was a bullet hole in his chest, right where his heart should be, and an increasingly growing blossom of blood coming out of the wound.
“No… no, no, no, no!” Peter cried.
No response. Ben wasn’t moving. No heart felt dying speech, just silence. Cold, dead, silence.
“Please…! Please, Uncle Ben,” he pleaded, ripping his sweater off and using it to apply pressure to the wound. “Wake up.. You have to wake up… you’re gonna be okay…
_____________________________________________
“You’re going to be okay, j-just stay with me… please,” Blood soaked through his suit as he tried to slow the bleeding down. This woman, the victim, was unresponsive. “K-Karen?”
”No detection of a heartbeat.”
Peter stopped, hands shaking and covered in this stranger’s blood. This stranger that he couldn’t save. He could have, so easily too. All he had to do was swing in and web up the perpetrator, but… he froze up. Now, because of him, this woman was dead. It was just… he just couldn’t. He felt like he couldn’t move no matter how badly he wanted to. His knees had locked and he felt like he couldn’t breathe.
Why couldn’t he keep Peter Parker and Spider-Man separate?
Why did Peter Parker always end up screwing him over when it wasn’t his turn?
He wasn’t Peter right now, he was Spider-Man.
Spider-Man didn’t get scared.
Spider-Man didn’t have these memories.
Spider-Man wasn’t some scared little kid.
But, he couldn’t breathe.
Peter couldn’t breathe.
Spider-Man couldn’t breathe.
He couldn’t breathe..
He couldn’t…
Couldn’t…
”Peter, you need to control your breathing, or it’s likely you’ll pass out,” The AI instructed. ”You seem to be experiencing an abrupt onset of fear. Would you like me to contact Mister Stark?”
Peter shook his head ‘no’, doing his best to get the word out but failing to do so. His senses were screaming at him, screaming about the danger and ears ringing as a result of the gun shot. Before he could make another attempt at words, Karen began speaking again,
”Request denial over riden. Teddy Bear Protocol activated, contacting Mister Stark.”
‘Teddy Bear Protocol’? The name was enough to distract Peter for a moment from what happened and how terrible and awful he felt. He’s dealt with guns before, unfortunately enough, why was this time it affecting him so much? Why the hell had he froze up this time? Still, he was having issues calming himself down. The teen attempted some breathing exercises he remembered seeing on the internet a few times as he scaled a nearby building-- he knew that Tony would be coming and didn’t exactly want to be besides a body when he got there. He didn’t exactly want to look at that anymore..
So now, he sat on the ledge of a building a few over from the one he originally climbed up. Peter’s head was hung low and everything just felt… numb. His breaths were no longer rapid, but instead spread out. A quick in and out, then nothing, and finally another sharp inhale and exhale when his lungs couldn’t stand the lack of oxygen. He still wasn’t really getting enough air, but he was managing for now.
Not too much time had passed when Peter heard thrusters come to a slow stop behind him. There were a few mechanical clicks that were soon replaced with the sound of footsteps. “Hey, kiddo,” Tony’s voice was layered with concern as he placed a hand on the teen’s shoulder. “You alright? Karen said you were having a panic attack. Came as quick as I could.” Peter had flinched slightly upon contact, and though he was still wearing his mask, the wide eye slits gave away his fretful state. He briefly glanced up from his hands on his lap, breathing still sporadic. Tony noticed the red stain covering the gloves on Peter’s suit and sighed. “Ah, shit... Just, okay. Okay, we can handle this.” He took out his phone and quickly sent a message before kneeling down besides the kid. “Alright, Happy’s gonna come get us, yeah? It’s late, and I’m not loving the idea of sending you home alone. Right now, you just got to breathe with me, okay?” Peter was quiet, but after a moment, he nodded and tried to copy the other’s breathing. “That’s it, Petey. In for four, okay? One, two, three, four. Good.”
Peter moved to hold onto one of Tony’s hands as they went over the breathing exercises and Tony moved him off of the ledge. Stark wasn’t sure what happened to mess his kid up so much, but he did know that he was needed and that whatever the hell happened was the probably the reason why there was literal blood on his hands. But Karen hadn’t said that Peter was injured at all, so he wasn’t mentioning it right now. Eventually, they saw Happy pull up on the street below, and the two of them made their way on down as Tony had the suit fly on back by itself. He helped his kid along the way, seeing how he was still shaken up, and held him close the entire time. He knew it helped him, so why wouldn’t he?
“‘M sorry …” Peter eventually mumbled once they were in the car. He removed his mask once the door shut-- his eyes were still a little puffy and red, and there were a few wet streaks dried up on the boy’s cheeks. It broke Tony’s heart to see, and he just wanted to find a way to make it all better and bring back the usual happy and bubbly Peter he knew. God, this kid made him soft.
“Why’re you sorry, bud?” He asked.
“‘Cause I made you c’me out here in the middle of the night,” The teen responded softly.
“It’s fine, really. I wanted to make sure our friendly neighborhood Spider-Boy was doin’ okay, after all.”
Silence.
“You want to talk about it?” Tony asked.
Peter shook his head.
“Alright, but you should, eventually,” He could be patient, but by tomorrow morning, he was going to need some answers. There was blood, after all. He could only let that go for so long. God, Tony wished May was here to give him advice on how to handle the situation or something, but no, this all just had to happen the weekend she went out of town for a work conference. Peter said he could handle being home alone for a few days, so he thought, ‘why not let the kid be independent?’ and didn’t offer the Tower or Compound. Well, it was Friday night, the first damn night, and that previous plan of letting him be independent was now a no-go.
Tony was able to get an answer out of Peter of whether he would prefer the Compound or the Tower, not knowing if he’d be up for the two-hour drive up there or not. The teen ended up choosing the Tower, and not that he really blamed him. It was late, and the kid was probably wanting to get out of that spandex suit. When they parked, or Happy parked, Tony helped Peter out and over towards the elevator. Despite the man’s hard exterior, Happy did care about the kid and was concerned about him. Sure, he always talked his ear off, but the quiet was worse. The driver prefered the chatter.
As the two made their way up to the Tower’s penthouse, Peter wrung his suit’s mask in his hands. The blood had dried up by now, so it wasn’t like he was staining that as well. “Why don’t you change into something more comfortable, yeah?” Tony suggested as their elevator reached their floor. “You can toss the suit in the hamper and I’ll make sure it’s washed. Want some cocoa or something? I’m going to have some, it’s cold out there.”
“Um, mhm,” Peter nodded. “Thanks..”
“No problem, kiddo,” Tony answered, smiling softly at the teen. “Now hurry so it doesn’t get cold and I don’t drink your’s.” Not that he would, of course. The kid usually liked that sort of humor though, and it wasn’t like it was hindering him at all.
Peter detached himself from Tony, who made his way into the kitchen, while he went down the hall in the direction of his room. He’s not exactly sure when Tony made a room for him in the Tower and Compound, but they really made the two places feel like second homes. He first discovered them one of the first few weeks the Pete came over to work in the labs and accidentally fell asleep at his workstation. He woke up in a room that seemed specifically decorated for him the next morning, and while a quick river of ‘thank you’s had poured from him at the time, they never really went too in depth talking about it. Not that it really was needed, anyways. All Peter knew was that it didn’t exactly help the occasional ‘dad’ slip up here and there.
That was an avoided conversational topic as well.
The Spider-teen managed to change into fuzzy red flannel sweatpants and a blue pullover sweater with his school’s logo on it relatively quickly, shutting the hamper which now contained his suit harshly as if to block out the memories. Peter kept the web shooters on, though-- not that he thought he would need them, but instead as a comforter. More or less. Even if the current issue could not be solved by webbing any baddies up, it gave the boy a sense of security, as though it gave him control over the situation. However logical that may be, it didn’t matter. If it helps, it helps, right?
Peter returned to the kitchen not five minutes later as the smell of hot cocoa began to fill the air. He received another soft grin from the older man upon his return, who was finishing up stirring the chocolate mix into the warm milk. “Glad to see you didn’t get loss,” Tony quipped, handing over the mug and ruffling the kid’s already messy hair. He squirted a little whip cream on top before returning the canister to the fridge and cleaning up the small mess. “Let’s head on over to the couch. More comfortable, and that’s where that blanket you’re always stealing is at.”
Pete wordlessly complied, sipping on his drink all the way over. His throat had felt so damn tight since this whole occurrence, and it felt as though if he were able to manage to get the words out, everything would just come crumbling down around him all over again. For now, the two sat in comfortable silence on the couch as Brooklyn 99 reruns played on the living room’s large T.V. screen, aforementioned soft blanket having been draped around the teen by the other. Said teen laid against Tony, who contently sipped on his drink. Once he’d finished and he confirmed that Peter’s mug was in fact empty, he decided to reopen the case of ‘what the hell happened tonight?’
“Kid, I know you don’t want to talk to me, but you’ve gotta give me a clue on what happened tonight,” Tony informed him, having FRIDAY lower the T.V. volume down a few notches.
“Don’t wanna,” Came a simple, if a bit childish whine.
“I know, and I don’t blame you,” he replied. “I hated talking about shit when I was your age, but this is sort of important, don’t you think?”
Once more, he was met with silence.
“I can’t help you if you don’t talk to me, and I want to help. Really.”
It was silent for a few more moments, and just as Tony was about to open his mouth to continue, Peter spoke up, “I… I messed up t’night. Bad.”
There, progress. Good progress, but Tony had an idea that things were gonna start going downhill now. “We all mess up sometimes,” He’d be fine with this as long as he didn’t start quoting television dads. “No one’s perfect, especially with these sort of jobs.”
“It, um, it wasn’t just someone getting away though,” Pete’s voice broke a bit as he spoke, and he felt water start to burn at his eyes again. “I… I didn’t… I-I-I couldn’t…”
“It’s alright, take your time.”
“I couldn’t save someone.”
Just saying it seemed to rehash the wound for Peter, and for Tony, it hit him like a wall of bricks. Of course that would mess the kid up like that, of course. All he wanted to do was help people, and he probably felt like he failed now that he couldn’t this time. And the blood… oh god, the blood. Oh, son of a bitch.
“I… I saw it happening, a-and… a-and I couldn’t move,” Peter continued, not making eye contact. “I-I couldn’t breathe, I just… felt so helpless.”
A tear rolled down the teen’s face, and before Tony could go to dry it, Peter did so a harsh wipe with his sleeve. “Hey, hey. Look, I know it sucks and you feel awful, but it’s okay. It’s going to get better,” Tony promised. He’d make sure of it. “We’ve all had times where we couldn’t save everyone, but that’s because we’re human. Nobody’s perfect, and the Avengers and Spider-Man are no exceptions. I do know how it feels though, and I wish I could make it better for you.”
“I-I could’ve saved her,” he cried. “If… If I wasn’t so stupid, I-I might’ve--”
“No, nope. I’m not letting you go down that road,” Tony interrupted. “You’re not stupid, kid. Alright? You had a bad night, that’s all. That’s okay. Whatever reason that you couldn’t, it’s alright. You can work through--”
“I saw my uncle.”
Brick wall number two. Peter didn’t often talk about Ben, but he did know from May that the kid blamed himself for the man’s death. He also knew that Pete had looked up to that man like he were the world, and those were intimidating shoes to fill. Despite the sensitivity of the topic, and Tony knew that well, the surprise made it so all he said was, “I’m sorry?”
“I… I saw m-my uncle, o-or, um.. What happened,” Peter began to explain. Tony put an arm around the kid’s shoulders and held him tight. “It just… i-it was surreal. A-and so similar, i-it felt like I was reliving it all…. All over again, and I s-still couldn’t save him… It… it was all m-my fault, a-again.”
The tears were at a steady flow now, and Tony was trying to do his best to console him. “Peter, listen to me. Okay?” Tony waited for a small nod as a response. “What happened to Ben was not your fault. That, I can assure you without a doubt. You weren’t the one who pulled the trigger, were you?” Peter hate guns, this must be why.
“Um, no… But--”
“But nothing. Nothing you can tell me will convince me that you were to blame for either of these people’s passings. Y’know why? Because you weren’t. Aren’t,” Tony paused for a moment and sighed. “I know you tried your best, kiddo, and you know what?”
“What?”
“I’m so god-damn proud of you for trying. I don’t know if I could, you’re a real trooper. Stronger than I could ever be, that’s for sure.”
“Mister Stark, you don’t--”
“No, Mister Parker, I’m not just saying this to make you feel better,” Tony answered before Peter could ask. “I mean it. Genuinely. You’re an amazing kid, Peter. I know shit hurts right now, but I’m right here to help you through it. And you know what? Tomorrow, we’ll take it easy, do whatever you want. Sound good?”
“Mhm…” Peter hummed with a small nod, proceeding to yawn afterwards. It just hit him how exhausted he was. It was late, and he’d had a busy and taxing night. He just, right now, wanted to get some sleep. It would be well deserved sleep as well.
Tony was happy to see that the kid had relaxed enough to be able to feel exhaustion, and he already seemed to be dozy off right there against him. “I’m not going anywhere,” he assured. “Right here with you, the whole time.”
After a while of trying to fight off sleep, he eventually loss and his eyes began to flutter shut. “Thanks, dad…” Peter murmured as he dozed, not realizing what it was that he’d said.
It surprised Tony, that much was true. However, he didn’t comment on it and bother to wake Peter up. He needed sleep, or whatever sleep he could get tonight. “Sleep tight there, kid.” He hummed, running a hand soothingly through the boy’s hair.
As for what he said, well, that was a conversation for another time.