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He sat on a rooftop in Queens, staring towards the western horizon. The sun set some time ago, but exactly how long was lost to Peter.
The conversation, if one could call it that, with Flash from earlier in the day played on a loop in his mind. “Hey, Penis Parker! Are you sure you’re not the Grim Reaper in disguise? Because your family members seem to drop like flies around you.”
And so the spiral began. You are a Grim Reaper. Everyone you care about either dies or stops talking to you. First your parents, then Ben. Peter Parker is definitely tainted death. It hangs over you like a shadow.
It must be spreading because it’s starting to rub off on Spiderman too. Then again, Spiderman is you, is Peter Parker. It was only a matter of time before he also became infected.
You became Spiderman because you need to save others, but you can’t even do that right. Besides, it’ll never be enough to atone for Ben. He shouldn’t have died. You could have stopped it. But you didn’t.
If only you were faster, you could have stopped that woman from being stabbed two days ago. She died. Her blood is on your hands. As Spiderman, you have to be better. You need to live up to that.
You need to be better as Peter too. Ned wouldn’t even speak to you right now. And is ignoring all your texts. How could you leave him high and dry on that group project? Stupid, Stupid, Stupid. He did all his work, plus some of yours, and you didn’t do any of it. You’re a failure as both Peter Parker and Spiderman. He doesn’t like you anymore. He hates you. All you ever seem to do is mess up. That project was a large portion of your grade, and you screwed everything up. You probably won’t get into college because of it. It’ll drop your GPA too much.
“Shut up, shut up, shut up, Brain!” Peter sobbed. Sitting with his arms wrapped around his knees, he rocked back and forth, trying to comfort himself. “I already know I can’t do anything right; you don’t have to remind me!” He dropped his forehead against his knees, not caring if he suffocated himself. At least if he knocked himself out, he would have a dreamless sleep.
He sat like that for a while longer, the rocking slowly decreasing until he was completely still. He then unfurled himself, surprised about how much easier it was to breathe when it was not through thick fabric or a stuffy nose.
He stood up on shaky legs, the blood rushing back giving him a tingly feeling. Once he was steady, he walked the few feet over to the edge of the building before sitting down, dangling his feet high above the street below.
And if he fell… well, he could catch himself, whether it be his sticky grip or his web shooters. He double-checked to make sure he was actually wearing them. Of course your wearing them, idiot. That’s how you got up here in the first place. You know, if you wanted to stop being a burden to everyone, you could always--
Peter quickly cut that thought off with a gasp of pain. It was becoming more and more frequent, and pain seemed to be the only thing that got them to zip it. And with the increased frequency of such thoughts, he started to see himself going through with them. Because the voices were right.
He stared at his left arm as if in a trance. The sleeve of his thin hoodie was pushed up over his elbow, and a line of blood was sluggishly sliding towards the crook of his arm. The peeled off scab wound the line came from already stopped bleeding.
Usually, this cut, along with all the other slightly curved ones that adorned his arm would have mostly healed by now. They were a few days old, yet looked fairly fresh, in part due to insomnia and malnutrition.
Peter could not recall the last time he slept more than five hours a night. Those five hours were often interrupted. He woke up two to three times a night, sometimes for no discernible reason. Even longer than that was the last time he slept nightmare free.
And it was a struggle to eat even a normal-sized meal that unenhanced people ate. He was not that hungry to begin with, but trying to force himself to eat only made it worse. The smells of most foods made him nauseous, save fruits and vegetables. He’s eaten more broccoli than he ever dreamed, and May was ecstatic that she did not have to actively convince him to eat enough produce. The worst, however, always came after he finished. He felt that he would be sick at any time for at least an hour after he ate.
The third part, aside from sleep troubles and eating problems, was that Peter continued to pick at his scabbed over cuts. He knew that his healing factor was currently down the drain, and used it to his advantage. Instead of making new wounds, he aggravated the old. Because picking at old wounds caused him pain and made the voice in his head disappear for a little while longer.
Peter had just finished pulling a scab off of one of the deeper cuts when he heard it. Thrusters from an Iron Man suit. He ignored them even as they drew closer, figuring Tony was going towards some Avengers thing he could not get out of. Instead, he heard the suit land on the roof less than 10 yards away.
Still, he did not turn around, staring down at the street below him. Only when he heard the soft crunch of gravel did he remember to pull his sweatshirt sleeve down. Having the fabric rub against the freshly reopened wounds was annoying, but it kept the voice quiet, so he viewed it as a win.
A few feet behind him, he heard Tony stop. “Hey Kid, what’s up?”
“All the stars we can’t see.” Peter tried to sound cheerful, but even he could tell it sounded forced. He refused to turn around. “What about you, Mr. Stark?”
“Oh, you know, I was in the neighborhood, thought I’d say hi to my favorite intern.” Tony said with a forced casualness.
Peter knew that was a lie, having watched him fly over from Manhattan, but did not call him out. “Well, you’ve seen me. Thanks for saying hi.”
“Peter, I would like to talk to you face-to-face. That means you need to get off that ledge.”
“I’m wearing the web shooters. I can catch myself.”
“Please, for my sake.”
“Fine.” He slowly turned around, straddling the ledge with one foot on the roof and the other suspended in the air for a few seconds.
As soon as both feet were back on solid ground, he heard Tony make his way over to him. The teen still refused to look at him, choosing instead to find shapes in the gravel. “Kiddo, can you look at me?” he asked gently.
Slowly, Peter met Tony’s gaze. He looked distraught and exhausted, wearing sweatpants and an AC/DC t-shirt. “Can I touch you?” The teen nodded and was immediately pulled into a hug. “Jeez, Pete, you’re freezing! How long have you’ve been up here?”
“Umm… What time is it?”
“It’s around one in the morning.”
“I watched the sunset. It was very beautiful. All oranges and golden yellows.”
Tony released Peter so he could look at him from an arm's length away. “The sunset was around 7:00pm, meaning you’ve been up here for at least six hours!” Tony’s voice grew louder and more distressed the longer he spoke.
Screw up. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Stark! I lost track of the time! I promise it won’t happen again. I’m heading back to the apartment right now.” He tried to walk away, but Tony caught him by his left arm. He unconsciously hissed at the contact; the wounds were still tender and could easily start bleeding again.
“Nope. You’re coming with me. May’s already at the tower. And what’s wrong with your--”
He could not hear anything else Tony said. The voice inside his head drowned everything out. You’re such a burden. May should be able to sleep when she gets off these late shifts, and instead you worry and panic her. She would be better off without you. She never asked for you. She doesn’t have to take care of you, you’re not biologically related. You killed the only person that connected you two together. You know she’s--” Suddenly another voice cut through.
“--eter, Peter. Hey, hey, let’s try to breathe.” He knew who was talking to him.
“Mr.-- Mr. St--Stark,” he managed to say in between gasps. Why couldn’t he breathe?
“Welcome back. Don’t try to talk; you’re hyperventilating. But we can fix that. Try to follow my instructions to the best of your ability. Breathe in, 2, 3, 4; hold 2, 3, 4; exhale 2, 3, 4. And again. In 2, 3, 4; hold 2, 3, 4; out 2, 3, 4.” Tony repeated it over and over again like a mantra until the teen’s heartbeat returned to normal.
As he calmed down, Peter began to take in his surroundings. He loosened the fists in his hair, dropping them so he could hug his knees. His back leaned against some sort of wall, and saw that he was sitting on gravel. He was freezing, and could feel the tackiness of drying blood on the inside of his hoodie sleeve.
Only once he felt completely calm did he glance up. His mentor stared back at him. He was kneeling in front of him, hands hovering for a second before placing them in his lap.
“Hey,” Peter croaked. His throat felt raw.
“How are you feeling?”
“Tired. And my throat hurts.”
“Well, if you’re ready to stand up, we can go to the Tower and solve both of those issues.” Tony stood up and quickly stretched before offering a hand to Peter once he realized the teen did not move on his own. Pulling him to his feet, he motioned for him to follow towards the door on the roof.
“Wait! Mr. Stark, aren’t we taking your suit back?”
“Nope. Happy is waiting downstairs to drive us. The suit is flying back on its own.”
“Oh.”
The duo were silent as they walked down the endless flights of stairs to the car. They remained mute as they rode back to the Tower, Happy casting worried glances in the rearview mirror the entire way. It was not broken until the elevator opened to Tony’s personal floor.
Peter had hardly taken a step before May crashed into him, wrapping him up in a hug which he tentatively returned. “Oh Peter, I’m so grateful you’re okay! I was so worried when I came home from work and you weren’t in the apartment! I tried calling you, but it went straight to voicemail. I became even more concerned when I called Ned and MJ and neither had heard from you since school today. After that, I called Tony, thinking you might have swung by and lost track of time or something. But he hadn’t heard from you either! Thank goodness he finally found you!”
She let go of him. “Now don’t you ever scare me like that again, okay?” She had tears running down her face and red eyes.
Peter was also crying, feeling absolutely horrible. “I am so sorry, May! I just wanted to think and then I decided to watch the sunset and then I lost track of time. And I’m so sorry for frightening you like that. I didn’t mean to.”
May pulled him into another hug. “I know you didn’t.” She kissed the top of his head, whispering “I larb you.”
“I larb you too.”
The hug was broken once again. “You feel cold and look drained. You should get some sleep. Actually, we should both go to sleep. Pepper insisted that we spend the night.”
“Okay. Well, the bedrooms are this way.” He pointed towards the hallway next to the empty common area. Pepper and Tony must have slipped away during their hug. They walked side-by-side, the only noise coming from their footsteps. All too soon, Peter stopped in front of his door. “This is my room. If you need anything or it’s an emergency, you can find me here. Or you could ask FRIDAY.” He really wanted some comfort in the form of company. “Let me show you your room. Did Pepper mention which one was yours?”
“I’m sure I can find it; Pepper said it was the last one down this hall on the right side.”
“Oh. Okay.” Peter tried to keep the disappointment out of his voice.
“But, I haven’t seen you in a while. How about we both get ready for bed and then I’ll join you in your room. We can talk or watch a movie or whatever you need to help you fall asleep. Does that sound good?”
“May, you need sleep too!”
“I may need sleep, but I need to be with my favorite nephew more.” She gave him a kiss on his check before she started walking down the hallway. “I’ll see you in fifteen minutes.”
Peter sighed as he went into his room, making a beeline for the dresser. He needed to find a long sleeved t-shirt to wear to hide the still-healing scars. He grabbed the first one he could find, which happened to be an SI one that Tony gave him. Almost as an afterthought, he grabbed the Hello Kitty pajama bottoms. They were the softest and warmest pj bottoms he had at the Tower.
Grabbing the clothes, he entered his bathroom. Searching under the sink, he found a first aid kit. Opening it, he found gauze and some antibacterial ointment. Setting them both on the counter, he put the kit back where he found it.
He unzipped his hoodie, easily freeing his right arm before pausing. He knew that the blood dried and soaked into the fabric, fusing the scabs to his hoodie sleeve. Instead of yanking his arm free, he turned on the cold water and ran his arm underneath the flow. After a few seconds, he could tell that the fabric was loosening, the water running down the drain tinged red.
Pulling the hoodie off completely, Peter looked at the damage on his left arm. There was still dried blood that he’d have to wash off, but all of the cuts appeared to be healing nicely. Or at least they looked the same as they did when he stared at them earlier in the day. He efficiently washed off the blood, making sure none was left before blotting it with a towel. He meticulously applied the ointment and wrapped the gauze around his arm before securing it neatly.
Knowing May would arrive any minute, Peter hurriedly changed into pajamas and rinsed the blood out of his hoodie sleeve. Hearing May strolling down the hallway towards his room, he quickly picked up the towel and his hoodie, throwing them into the back of his closet. He was making his way over to the bed when he heard his aunt knock on the door.
“Come in.”
She opened the door, stepping in and gently closing it behind her. Peter watched her take everything in, wondering what she thought of everything.
“Wow, that’s a lot of Star Wars posters!”
“Yeah, Mr. Stark went a bit overboard.”
May chuckled. “When doesn’t he? So, what do you want to do?”
“Can we lay in bed and you tell me about your day?”
“Of course.”
They settled into bed, Peter laying down under the covers and May sitting on top of them, before Peter asked FRIDAY to dim the lights to 10%. Once they were both settled, May asked, “Where would you like me to begin?”
“Can you tell me about your shift at the hospital?”
“Of course. At the beginning of my shift, there was this older woman who came in…” Peter listened as May told him about her day. She used to do this a lot when he had nightmares as a child. Her soothing voice would lull him to sleep within minutes. And as he drifted off, he felt fingers lightly carding through his hair.
*****
The peacefulness Peter felt when he fell asleep did not last long. All to soon, he woke up to somebody screaming and someone else calling his name. Opening his eyes, he noticed someone hovering next to him, and lashed out towards them. He missed.
“Hey, Pete, it’s just me. It’s Tony. I’m not gonna hurt you.” He paused. “FRI, lights to 20%.”
A second later, Peter could see his mentor standing next to his bed. He quickly realized that he had a nightmare, and Tony came to wake him. The screaming he heard was himself. “Sorry, Mr. Stark,” he mumbled. His throat was raw. “I didn’t mean to wake you up. You can go back to bed now.”
“Don’t worry about it, Kid. I wasn’t even asleep. I’ve been tinkering in the lab since we came here.”
“Oh.” Peter could feel the sweat turning cooling against his back and he wanted to change into some fresh clothes. Pushing off blankets and sheets, he noticed that they were also damp with perspiration.
Seeing that Peter wanted to get up, Tony stepped away from the side of the bed. “Do you think you can fall back asleep? I can get new sheets for you.”
“I’m too wound up to sleep, so don’t bother.”
“I can hang out with you if you’d like,” Tony stated tentivally.
Peter had a quick debate in his mind. On one hand, he was already being enough of a burden to Tony, so he should try and let him sleep. But on the other hand, he craved comfort.
Comfort won. “Sure.”
“Great! How does hot chocolate in the living room sound?”
“That’s fine.”
“I’ll meet you there in 10 minutes. I’ll make them while you freshen up. I’m sure you want to change.”
“Yeah, I kinda do. Thanks, Mr. Stark.”
Immediately after Tony left the room, Peter slumped against the wall, putting his face in his hands. He had a nightmare at the Tower, and Tony was the one who woke him up. He did not know how to feel about it. He was embarrassed that Tony saw him like that, looking so weak. At the same time, however, he was grateful that his mentor woke him up instead of May, or Pepper-- they both needed their sleep.
Peter got off the floor and searched for a new pair of pjs. After changing, he went into the bathroom. His face was still slightly red, and his hair was matted with sweat. Not wanting to take a shower, he rinsed his face and hair in the sink. It was better than doing nothing.
By the time Peter arrived in the living room, Tony was sitting on a couch, running a hand through his hair. Two cups of steaming hot chocolate sat on the coffee table in front of him. Once he noticed the teen, he called out “Hey, come join me!” He patted the seat next to him on the couch.
Peter sat down on the sofa and gingerly held his mug of hot chocolate. Glancing down, he smiled when he noticed that Tony put extra marshmallows in his, just has he liked. “Thanks for the marshmallows.”
“Don’t worry about it. I still don’t understand how you can eat them straight out of the package. I can’t eat them plain.” Tony knew that acting like everything was normal was the way to get Peter talking.
“Does that mean you eat Peeps?”
“No. I hate them.”
“But they aren’t just marshmallows. They’re marshmallows covered in brightly colored granulated sugar.”
“That makes them even worse. Who thought ‘let’s take something that is already 90% sugar, make them into vague shapes, and then cover them with even more sugar.’ Yuck.”
“When was the last time you even had a Peep? Have you had them in the past decade? They’ve come a long way since then. You can buy Peeps in a variety of designs and flavors. There’s Blueberry, Lemonade, Fruit Punch--”
“Those all sound terrible. I’ll pass.”
“Okay, Mr. Stark. You drink a lot of coffee. Have you ever had a PSL?”
“I drink my coffee black, but I believe Pepper drinks them on occasion.”
“Do you at least know what PSL stands for?”
“Part Soy Latte?”
“Mr. Stark, stop pulling my leg. PSL. Pumpkin Spice Latte. It’s all Starbucks advertises from August to November.”
“Why would I go to Starbucks when I can have higher quality coffee here?”
“Okay, I’ll give you that. We got a little bit offtopic. What I’m trying to say is that you can have pumpkin spice flavored coffee by melting Peeps in there.”
“Why would anyone want to put Peeps in coffee?”
“For funsies. Also, all that sugar makes the coffee less bitter and lightens the color a little bit.”
“Let me guess. You and Ned reached the aforementioned conclusion after conducting your own experiment.”
“Yep!”
“Was this before or after your caffeine ban?”
“After. But that ban is only in place here at the Tower. Ned and I were at his house.” Tony did not look impressed. “Don’t worry, it was decaf. Ned’s mom won’t let him drink regular coffee until he’s like 40.”
“You really like Peeps, don’t you?”
“Yep! Whenever May or I find a new flavor, we try it and rate it. So far Caramel Apple holds the top spot.”
“Well, I know what the Easter Bunny is bringing you this year.”
“Mr. Stark! I’m a teenager. I know the Easter Bunny doesn’t exist.”
“I know, I know. I’m just messing with you.”
There is a lull in the conversation for a few moments. Both of them sip their drinks. Peter finished his drink, but kept the mug in his hands, enjoying the residual heat. He broke the quiet. “You know there is a game you can play using Peeps. You don’t even have to eat them.”
“Really?” Tony sounded genuinely intrigued.
“It’s called Peep Jousting. All you need is two peeps, two toothpicks, and a plate-- I recommend paper because you can throw it out when you’re done. Oh, you also need a microwave!”
“Will Pepper disapprove?”
“Probably, but it’s a lot of fun.”
“How do you play?”
“You place the Peeps on opposite sides of the plate. Then, you stick a toothpick into each one, and have it point towards the other Peep. Then, you stick them in the microwave for ten seconds. You have to watch them the entire time, however, or else they can make an even bigger mess. The winner is whoever can survive the longest without almost exploding, or whichever one stabs the other.”
“Pepper wouldn’t approve. Which is why we either do it on the common floor or in the microwave in the lab.”
“If we do it on the common floor, we can have a tournament between all of the Avengers. It’ll be great! I can already picture Mr. Sam arguing semantics with Mr. Clint while Mr. Steve tries to keep the peace.”
“That’s a really good idea, Underoos. We’ll have to do it the next time everyone’s here.”
“Definitely.” Peter set the empty mug back onto the coffee table before stretching and yawning.
“Do you want more hot chocolate or do you want to go to bed?”
“Neither, Mr. Stark. Can we watch Brooklyn-99 instead?”
“Of course we can. FRIDAY, play the episode we left off on.”
The lights dimmed as the episode began play. Tony tossed Peter a blanket that he quickly wrapped himself up in before scooting over to the other side of the couch. Usually he would sit right next to his mentor, but currently he needed space.
He did not mean to fall asleep, but one minute he was listening to Rosa berating Jake for visiting a crime scene for the hundredth time, and the next he was laying in the darkened common room. Looking out the windows he saw the faintest shift towards a lighter blue, so he knew dawn was approaching. Tony was asleep on the other side of the sofa, lightly snoring. Peter quickly decided to let him sleep. He, however, left for his room. He would rather lie in his bed not sleeping than on the living room furniture.
Once back in his room, laid down on the other side of his bed. He could faintly smell a whiff of May’s perfume. With that serving as a comforting presence, Peter fell back asleep as the gray dawn crept across the skyline.
The next time he woke up, it was for good. The sun was fully up, and Peter enjoyed it for a minute before realizing he was late for school. “Shoot! Shoot, shoot, shoot!” He ran around his room, trying to brush his teeth, fix his hair, and get dressed at the same time.
He raced towards the elevators, pausing as he perceived others in the room. Tony and Rhodey were both at the island. Tony was pouring coffee while Rhodey ate. “Hey guys! Has anyone seen my backpack? I’m going to be late for school.”
“Woah, woah, woah. Hold your horses, Kiddo. You’re not going to school today, Your aunt called in your absence.”
“Why would she do that? I have a vocab quiz in English and a Spanish exam. I can’t miss them.”
“Yes, you can. Now sit down and have some breakfast. I can make you eggs, bacon, toast, or oatmeal. Or you can have some cereal.”
“Toast is fine.”
“Do you want orange juice to drink?”
“Sure.”
Rhodey chuckled beside him. “Man, you were like that when we were at MIT.” He nudged Peter. “Tones over here would stay up late working on non-homework problems, wake up with hardly any time to get to class, and then run out the door without eating unless I shoved something in his hands as he left.”
“Yes, Honeybear insured that I ate at least one vegtable a week, drank water, go outside for reasons other than class or parties.”
“I tried.”
“Yes you did. I did a lot of stupid things at that age, but you stopped me from doing even more.”
“‘Cause I was the best roommate ever.”
That was Peter’s cue to jump into the conversation. He acts shocked. “Oh my god, they were roommates.”
Tony slid a plate of buttered toast to Peter. “Kid, I thought you already knew we were roommates in college. That’s how we met and became friends.”
“I already know that. It’s just that--”
“It’s a Vine, Tones,” Rhodey cut in. “You do know what that is?”
“Yes, he does. I’m pretty sure May told him all about them while I picked up pizza for dinner a few weeks ago. Also, you like Vines, Mr. Rhodey?”
“I don’t actively seek them out, but Wanda and Bucky have shown me a few of the more popular ones.”
“My padawans are becoming masters.”
“You know what else Jedi masters do?” Tony asked as he placed a glass of OJ in front of Peter. “Eat their toast before the butter congeals.”
“Yes, Mr. Stark,” Peter mumbled before picking up a piece of toast. He started nibbling at the crust. He was not hungry. Of course, Tony noticed right away.
“Are my toast skills really so atrocious that you can only eat the crust?”
“No, not at all,” Peter quickly appeased him. “I’m not all that hungry at the moment.” He was surprised when Tony did not fight him.
“Okay. Please drink your juice though. We can’t have you getting dehydrated.” He walked around the island and patted Peter on the back. “I’m going to show Platypus something. I expect all of your OJ gone by the time I get back.” As Rhodey and him strolled towards the elevator, he gave a final warning. “And no pouring it down the drain. FRIDAY will snitch on you.”
Peter sat at the counter, occasionally taking sips from the glass. Only when he heard the elevator making its way back to the floor did he finish the rest of the drink. He just set his now-empty glass when the elevator doors slid open and revealed Tony.
“FRIDAY tells me that you are now hydrated. You know what that means?”
“We can tinker in the lab?”
“Bzz! Wrong answer! Now it’s time for us to talk about what happened last night. Now get up. We’re not going to have this conversation in the kitchen.” He motioned for Peter to follow him into the living room.
“Do we have to do it here? What if one of the other Avengers comes up? I don’t want them overhearing.”
“Don’t worry. The only people who currently have access to this floor are me, you, Pepper, Happy, and May. And we all care and worry about you.”
He patted the seat next to him for Peter to sit, but he chose to pick the same spot as earlier, the other end of the couch. If Tony was hurt, he hid it pretty well.
Facing his mentor, Peter asked, “Where is May, anyways? Doesn’t she want to be here for this conversation?”
“She wanted me to go first for a few reasons. She wants to give you some space incase it was something that she did that caused you to pull a Houdini. Also, her boss wouldn’t let her take off work today. She was able to cut her shift down from 12 hours to eight, so you’ll get to see her earlier.”
“What time is it anyways?”
“It is 9:32am, Peter,” FRIDAY replied.
“How do you not know the-. I’m not even going to ask. You are not deflecting your way out of this conversation. Understand?”
“Yes.” He crossed his arms like a child being told they could not have another cookie.
“Good. Now I’m going to be very frank with you. You scared the shit out of your aunt last night. I know you didn’t mean to, but you did. So, what happened?”
“I wanted to see the sunset, so I put on my web shooters and found a nice rooftop to watch it from. Afterwards, I lost track of the time. I didn’t realize how late it was until you found me.”
“I can tell you’re not telling me the whole story. Why did you leave the house without your phone? You’re a teenager; you’re supposed to be addicted to it.”
“I forgot it.”
“Then why did May find it in your desk drawer, turned off. That seems pretty deliberate to me.”
“I wanted to be alone and forget about it.”
“Forget about what?”
Peter was quiet, emotions flashing across his face as if he were having a silent argument with himself. Suddenly, he yelled, “Forget that Ned hates me and refuses to talk to me.” He shook his head and buried it in his hands.
“I’m sure Ned doesn’t hate you. He’s too good of a friend to leave you high and dry.”
“I fucked- I mean messed up. He hasn’t spoken to me in three days nor responded to any of my texts. MJ’s also disappointed in me, but she’s Switzerland so at least she’ll talk to me.”
“What happened?”
“We had a project that is worth a large percentage of our grades. Ned and I decided to work together on it, and divvied up the parts. Ned ended up doing all of his portion of the project and a bit of mine. The rest went uncompleted.” Once he started, he couldn’t stop.
“The thing is, I really tried to complete my portion of the project. I would block out time to work on it and then I would sit down and I couldn’t do it. But it wasn’t only that project. Everything is hard to do. Getting up. Going to school. Decathlon. Homework. Spidermaning.
“I can’t even eat, really. I feel sick whenever I eat, usually for at least an hour. Some foods are worse than others. Fruits and vegetables are the least likely to make me nauseous, so I’ve eaten a lot lately. That’s made May really happy since I’m eating healthier. Although it kinda cancels out since that’s all I eat.
“Another thing. I don’t sleep. I don’t know the last time I slept more than four or five hours a night without interruptions. I mean, sometimes nightmares will wake me up, like last night. But other times, I wake up for no reason and can’t fall back to sleep.
“And I hate it. I hate all of it. I wish it would all stop!” He wrapped his hands around his legs and rested his head on his knees.
“Peter… last night, you weren’t planning--”
“No!” he stated vemehmously. “No,” he repeated softly. “I couldn’t do that to May. I’m already a burden to her, but that would be worse.”
“Bud, can you look at me?” The teen tentatively lifted his head so he could see Tony. “Listen to me. You are not a burden. Your aunt loves you more than anything else in the universe.”
Peter gave a noncommittal shrug.
“That’s okay. You don’t have to believe me, but I know you know it’s true. Your mind’s just being mean right now.”
“How do you know?”
“Because my brain’s done the same thing to me before. It sucks, but you have to remember that one day you’ll feel better.” Tony contemplated for a moment before continuing. “I’m not a medical doctor, but I think your depressed. I suggest we go down and see if Dr. Cho agrees.”
“I will stick myself to the couch if you make me leave. You know I can.”
“It’s for your own good.”
“And I don’t want to go down to the MedBay.”
Tony huffed. “Fine. Will you talk if she comes up here?”
“Maybe.”
“That’s better than ‘no.’ Let me make a quick phone call.” Tony stood up from the couch and walked out of the room, taking out his cell phone as he left.
Peter, meanwhile, stewed in his own thoughts. Why did you tell him all of that? Now he views you as being even weaker than before. Why did you burden him? You complained to him about how you feel, completely unprompted. He really did not want to know all of that. That’s why he’s sending the doctor in, so she can figure out what’s wrong with you.
And why’d you tell him that being Spiderman was hard? He probably thinks that you don’t have what it takes to be a superhero. He’s going to take away the suit away, and this time it will be for good.
“God! Can you please shut up? Why won’t you shut up!” He blocked his ears as if that would stop the voices. But you can’t block out sounds that are coming from your head.
Glancing up, he noticed that Tony was strolling through the room towards the kitchen. If he heard Peter talking to himself, he did not mention it. Coming back to the sofa, his mentor handed him a water bottle before placing the other one on the coffee table. “Drink. You need to stay hydrated. Also, Helen said she’ll be up in a few minutes.”
They sat in silence, sipping water and listening for the elevator. All too soon for Peter’s liking, Dr. Cho stepped off of the elevator.
“Hello Tony, Peter. It’s nice to see you outside of the MedBay.” She waved to them and sat down on a loveseat adjacent to Peter, placing her bag on the floor.
“Would you like something to drink, Helen?”
“No thank you, Tony.” Turning to Peter, she begins. “Hello again, Peter. You know why I’m here, right?”
“Yeah.” He replied sullenly. “Mr. Stark thinks there’s something wrong with me. I refused to go to the MedBay, so he brought you here instead.”
“That’s one way to describe it.” Dr. Cho reached into the bag at her feet, pulling out a tablet. After tapping on it a few times, she handed it over to Peter. “Here is a questionnaire that I need you to fill out. You can take as much time as you need. Please be as honest as possible and let me know when your done.”
Standing up, she motioned for Tony. “Show me what you have to drink in your fridge.”
Peter listened to them make idle chatter in the kitchen while he stared at the screen in his hands. He could not believe how many statements he related to. Over half of his responses were ‘nearly every day.’ He was flying through the questions until one made him pause.
Thoughts that you’d be better off dead or thoughts of hurting yourself. He had to be honest with himself. But part of him wanted to lie, did not want to admit the truth because it was painful, in more ways than one. But glancing at his bandaged arm, he knew he had to face it, selecting ‘nearly every day’ once again. The rest of the quiz flew by quite quickly, and soon he called Dr. Cho back into the living room.
Sitting back down in her chair, she picked the tablet off the table. She quietly read over Peter’s responses from the questionnaire before speaking. “I would like to talk to Peter to gain some more information about some of his answers. Now, since Tony is not your legal guardian, he doesn’t have to stay here if you don’t want him to. We can talk one-on-one. Or, we can wait for your aunt to come back from work and you can talk with both her and me. It’s your choice.”
“No May, please.” Peter was adamant. Quieter, he added, “I would like to speak to just you, Dr. Cho.”
“Hey, no hard feelings, Kiddo. Let me know when you’re done.” He stood up from his end of the couch and went to the elevator. Peter assumed that he was heading to his lab.
Once the elevator closed, Helen spoke. “FRIDAY, enable static mode.”
“What’s that?”
“If anyone were to look at FRIDAY’s recordings, all they would see two blurry blobs sitting down and they would hear static. It’s used in the MedBay whenever someone comes in to protect their privacy.”
“Oh, that’s pretty cool.”
“Yes, it is. Now, I’m going to ask you some questions about some of your responses. You might see me writing things down. I’m still listening to you, but also taking notes. Okay?”
“Yeah.”
“First thing, you said that you have low energy all the time. Can you explain that?”
“It’s probably because I don’t sleep and I can’t eat. Everything feels like a monumental task. Brushing my teeth. Walking from class to class. Building Legos with Ned.”
“Can you expand on your sleeping and eating habits?”
“Sure. I can’t fall asleep or stay asleep. Sometimes a nightmare wakes me up, while other times it’s for no discernible reason. And every time I eat I feel like I’m going to hurl for a long time afterwards.”
Helen nodded and continued asking question after question. Peter didn’t want to answer any more. He wanted to go down in the lab and tinker with something, or step outside and feel the wind on his face.
Helen must have noticed his waning attention, asking “Do you want to take a break?”
“No, I want to get this over with.”
“Well, we’re almost done.” Helen resumed her questioning, and Peter responded on autopilot.
At least he did until he was asked to talk about his response to his least favorite question of the entire thing.
“Peter, your response to the statement ‘Thoughts that you’d be better off dead or thoughts of hurting yourself.’ was ‘nearly every day.’ That concerns me greatly; can you please tell me a bit more about your answer.” When Peter remained silent, she added, “I know that this is very hard to talk about, but I need to know so I can work on a treatment plan.”
“Are you going to tell May?”
“I have to; she’s your legal guardian.”
“Then Mr. Stark mind as well hear this too. That way I have to repeat it one less time.” He sounded so defeated.
“FRIDAY, please have Tony come to his floor.”
“He is on his way now.”
“Thank you. Is there anything else you’d like to share before he gets here?”
“No. He knows almost everything you do.”
There was no more conversation, as Tony came striding through the room. “How’d everything go?” He placed a hand on Peter’s shoulder.
“Actually, we aren’t quite done yet. Peter is going to talk about something, and he requested you be here.”
“Alrighty then.” Tony sat back on his side of the couch. “Let’s hear it.”
“Do you want me to say the statement, or do you?”
“I’ll do it. So, one of the things on the paper asked about thoughts of dying or hurting myself.” Peter tried to be blase about it and failed miserably. “I guess you could say I’ve been feeling that way a lot recently.”
Tony had a sharp intake of breath but otherwise remained silent. “I don’t really feel like dying, but pain does make the voices shut up for a while.” There. He said it without really saying it.
“What do you do to get the voices to quiet down?”
“I cut. And then I pick at the scabs so I don’t have to do it as much.” He said it. His voice was flat, almost robotic, but he said it. Out loud. For real. In front of someone he’s looked up to for over half his life. He pulls himself into a smaller ball. Mr. Stark definitely hates you now. He’s going to want nothing to do with you. He’s going to take the suit away. Stupid. Stupid. Stu--
A hand over his pulls him out of his head. Tony’s holding his right hand, which is trying to break through the gauze he wrapped around his left forearm earlier. “Leave it alone for now.”
“Can you either pull up your hoodie sleeve or take it off? I would like to look at your cuts to make sure nothing is infected.”
Peter methodically pulls off his hoodie and slowly unwraps the gauze. Once it’s all off, he holds it out to Helen, focusing on her instead of Tony.
“It doesn’t look like any are infected, which means your taking care of them. When was the last time you changed the bandages?”
“Last night, technically this morning.”
“I suggest disinfecting the area again and rewrapping it. I could do, or you can do it yourself.”
“I can do it.”
“Peter, based on your responses, I say you have Major Depressive Disorder, or depression. I’m going to speak with your aunt when she arrives back here, but until then you are free to do whatever. After, of course, you clean your arm. I would also like you to have a buddy with at all times.”
“I’m not suicidal.”
“I know you aren’t, but it’s still nice to have someone around when you feel like this. It’s a visual reminder that you’re not alone.”
“Fine.” Peter stood up to throw away his water bottle and gauze.
Behind him, Tony called out, “I volunteer to be your buddy!”
Peter pretended not to hear him. He did not understand why his mentor wanted to hang out with him after seeing how broken he was. He assumed that he would not want to see him at all. But saying all of that to Helen, and later Tony, took a weight he did not even realize was on his shoulders. It was difficult to talk about and admit, but he felt better knowing other people knew.
Walking back to the couches, Helen and Tony quickly finished their conversation. In a normal tone Tony said, “Thank you so much for coming up here.”
“Don’t worry about it, it’s part of my job.” Turning, she said, “Bye, Peter. I’ll see you later.”
Tony waited until Helen was in the elevator before going over to Peter and wrapping him up in a hug. “What you just did was very brave. I’m so proud of you. I know plenty of people, including me, who couldn’t do what you just did. Especially at your age.” He broke the hug, and Peter could see tears in his eyes.
“I’m so sorry, Mr. Stark. I made you cry. And you told me to be better, and this is the opposite of better. I’m so--”
“Please, no more ‘sorries.’ I care about you, and I hate seeing you like this. But I know that you’ll eventually go back to your normal self. It might take awhile. You may have setbacks, but I’ll be with you the whole time. Same as May, Ned, and MJ. Because they all love and care about you very much, despite what your brain may be telling you.”
“Okay.”
“What do you want to do, buddy? Make a lightsaber? Play MarioKart? Try that Peep Knight game to told me about earlier?”
“Actually, I’m feeling pretty drained.”
“Talking about emotions will do that.”
“I want to sleep.”
They walk towards Peter’s room. “I’ll let you do that after we follow Dr. Cho’s instructions regarding your arm.”
Once inside, he makes a beeline for the bathroom while Tony digs through his drawers. “Here.” He tosses a pair of sweatpants in the air. “These are more comfortable to sleep in than jeans. Change into them, then let me help you with your arm.”
10 minutes later, Peter and Tony are sitting side by side in bed. “Ready for bed, Spiderling?”
“Not quite. Can we watch some more Brooklyn 99?”
“Of course, your wish is my command.” Peter burrows into the covers as Tony calls out to FRIDAY, “Resume Brooklyn 99 marathon.”
He watches Rosa berate Jake for visiting a criminescence for the hundredth time. Peter vaguely remembers watching the episode last night, but does not remember the end. Once again, he’s asleep before the episode’s over.
*****
When he wakes up again, it’s to someone carding their fingers through his hair. They’re humming under their breath, and he turns towards them.
“Hey, baby.”
Peter opens his eyes to see May smiling down at him. “Hey, May.” His voice is soft with sleep. “I musta slept a while.”
“According to FRIDAY, you’ve only been asleep for about two hours. Tony called my work and convinced them to let me off right away.”
“That was nice of him.”
“Yes it was. Do you want to get up, or are you going back to sleep?”
“Sleep.” Peter closed his eyes, before opening them again. “Did you talk to Dr. Cho?”
“Yes I have. She’s working on some medication for you, and suggested some therapists for you. She’s going to help you get better, okay? Her and me and Tony are here to support you. You can always come to me, okay?”
“Okay.”
“Good. We’ll continue talking when you’re up for good.”
“I larb you.”
“I larb you too.” Peter let the motion of May’s fingers running through his hair lull him to sleep once more.