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Peter hurts himself.
It’s nothing big, not a razor or wounds he draws on his own flesh. He just decides as he stands atop the roof of his favorite sandwich place to jump. There’s no rush of hormones, not the good ones. He doesn't think about the people he’d hurt if this jump kills him. He just thinks about the emotional pain that feels like it’s eating him alive. The emotional pain he could control if it were a real pain. Physical.
It hurts. It’s nothing like what’s in his head but this pain makes sense. He lays on the ground, gasping and it’s getting harder to breathe. Karen keeps talking to him. He’s not all that sure what she’s saying. Her voice is even, thoughtful, and his breath catches as a needle pierces his skin and his body feels like it’s floating. He’d forgotten about the suit’s protocols.
Then he really is floating. Well, not really. Everything smells very distinctly of Happy. The warmth around his body is because of Happy and Peter wants to push the man away. He wants to lay and sulk in his pain but he’s panicking. This was so dumb. What was he thinking? Happy must be pissed and God only knows how Tony’s going to react. What if Peter sets him back? He was only just healthy enough to leave the hospital a week ago. He’s not even walking yet. He’s not supposed to be stress-
“Hey, hey,” Happy pats at his cheek, not too gently either. Peter opens his eyes and Happy’s right there. Tears reflect the street signs around them and Peter can hardly recognize the man in front of him. Happy’s typical frown is a grimace, drawn back in an uncertain, panicked twist. “Stay awake, Peter.”
Peter can tell that Happy’s trying to be careful but it still hurts like hell. Happy’s hand press against his side and he hisses at the pain that pressure spikes. “H-Happy?” The street light is so bright. “I-I’m sorry. I didn’t-I wasn’t…”
“What the fuck were you thinking, Peter?” The anger is a mix of something Peter can’t distinguish but he sucks a breath in between his teeth when Happy suddenly picks him back up. “Tony’s going to flip out. He’s gonna-” Happy cuts himself off, looking down at Peter’s bloodied face. His bottom lip trembles,” oh God, Peter. It’s gonna be okay. You’re gonna be okay.”
The overwhelming pain creeps black into his vision. Happy’s chest rises so steadily, so warm that Peter allows himself to lean into Happy. He closes his eyes and listens to Happy’s heart. He falls asleep.
----------
He wakes up alone.
Kind of.
To his right and left, his parents and family sleep. Squeezed on one tiny cot, Pepper and Tony are cuddled close. Peter can see the metallic luster of Tony’s braces. Red, of all colors. Tony tells him that the braces are red to annoy people but it’s far more Tony’s style to joke about the things he’s insecure of. Therefore, ostentatious Not that it matters because he can hardly use them. He needs more physical therapy to get some control in the muscles in his back. He’s also not supposed to sleep in them but from the looks of the ragtag group, sleeping wasn’t the goal.
Pepper’s the big spoon, arms wrapped around Tony while his head is tucked into her side. Peter can see streaks from tears and he knows that they’re there because of him. Pepper, like always, seems to have fixed the problem. Her hands buried in Tony’s hair where they stopped rubbing or scratching until she fell asleep herself.
Aunt May is on the other cot. Tears stain her face as well. She looks older, tired. That’s his fault too. “Never meet your hero.” That’s what she used to say to him. He never understood why. Now he does. Heroes are nothing like you imagine them and they let you down, Captain America let him down.
Tony definitely wasn’t what he was expecting, to say the least.
“Kid,” it’s Happy at the foot of his bed, worry lines deep in his face. His regular suit and tie are gone. He looks exhausted in his soft green sweater and dark jeans. He lets out a relieved sigh,” you gave us a hell of a scare.” He moves his hand from the rail, timidly putting it on Peter’s ankle. He gives Peter a small squeeze and a short jerk of his head. Peter understands this nonverbal exchange. “I’m here if you need me. Talk to someone, even if it isn’t me… I do care.”
Peter looks away and finds Rhodey staring at him. The older man looks almost like the others but… he’s angry. Which is what Peter was expecting all along so it’s almost a relief that flushes over him when he sees Rhodey’s less than pleased expression.
Aunt May was right in a lot of ways about how he shouldn’t meet his heroes. Tony was nothing like he was supposed to be. Meeting Tony was supposed to mean all kinds of cool shit, garages full of tools and cars, and it was. He just didn’t expect the health, the human parts of meeting someone. Superheroes don’t get hurt or at least they didn’t until he met his favorite one.
He got his hands on paperwork, curiosity sending him spiraling to find answers he didn’t know he even wanted until then. The sheer amount of paper in the medical file was alarming and that was before he read it. Now he knows too much.
One alluded suicide attempt at sixteen, one before that at fourteen. Three drug overdoses before he turned 22. Several cases of alcohol poisoning, drug usage, and three therapy sessions from then until Afghanistan. Afghanistan's events leave numerous papers for follow up appointments that Tony missed, lots of X-rays of his lungs, skull, and ribs. There’s complex, in-depth planning for the removal of the arc reactor. A never-ending list of side-effects of medicine’s Tony’s been put on for everything from chronic pain to depression.
The most astounding part is the list of medications he’s on right now. Things for his mental health, things to treat depression, anxiety, PTSD, bipolar disorder, and things Peter’s never even heard of. With the physical for his heart, his muscles, his lungs, chronic pain, and the list just goes on.
It’s terrifying because when he originally got his hands on the list, it was only to get the information he knew Tony would never willingly give him. Now, it weighs him down. He knows that his actions cause physical or mental ones for Tony. When he found out about Liz’s dad dropped that building on him his heart medication and depression went up in dosage. He even got put on something new to fix the tremor that reappeared in his left hand. All because of Peter.
“Pete?”
Peter looks around the room, he can hear and feel that his heart rate has sky-rocketed. It makes him feel panicky, unwell. His eyes land on Tony. He’s gingerly untangling himself from Pepper, moving with as much precise movement as he can. Peter doesn't miss the flash of pain that Tony exhibits as he stands on his feet. He rubs his hand down his right leg, rubbing at his knotted muscles.
It takes him a moment to get to the bedside, struggling to make his right leg move and bend like it’s supposed to. When he does, he sits heavily on the side of Peter’s bed. The muscles in his back are drawn tight and Peter hopes Tony woke up lazily from his slumber and not because his pain is getting worse.
“Hey, kiddo.” Tony puts his hand on Peter’s, giving it a gentle squeeze. It hurts more than he expects it to, but Peter moves in on himself. He shifts in the bed, his ribs and head throbbing as he moves his knees to his chest and his closer to Tony. The older man compensates for this movement by lifting his arm up and allowing Peter to get closer.
Peter eases into Tony’s arms, his body calming down and his pain fading. He’s twisted unnaturally, it should be uncomfortable, but Tony’s hand is buried in his hair. He’s playing with his hair, brushing it and scratching gently at his scalp. It’s soothing even if the braces on Tony’s legs dip into his side.
“When I was twenty-one, my parents died in a car accident.” Tony sighs sadly,” I was so lost. My father wasn’t… He was good at being brilliant but not being a father.” Tony clears his throat after a few moments. He’s not sure exactly what he needs to say yet. “I only had Rhodey and even then I was by myself because while Rhodey was raised by a single mother, he had no idea what it was like to lose a parent. He joined the Army and I fell apart.”
The hand in Peter’s hair stops for a moment. Tony sighs deeply, Peter can feel Tony’s shoulder’s slouch. “I never… I didn’t jump off buildings. I didn’t give away my things or say goodbye. I thought I didn’t have anyone to say goodbye to.” Tony’s hand goes back to the soothing brushing. “I knew what I was doing though. I’d get drunk or I’d get high and I didn’t matter if I ruined my liver or overdosed because the only thing I wanted…”
“Silence?” Peter’s voice is so soft, so innocent that Tony cries. Tears slip down his cheek and he nods.
“Yeah, buddy.” Tony wipes his eyes harshly,” and I felt so guilty. I hadn’t been on speaking terms with my father. Somehow I let that regret twist into guilt and I blamed myself for their wreck.” Tony looks down at Peter. His tiny casted wrist, the black eyes blinking owlishly at him, and he smiles. “I know that it’s easy to blame yourself for everything, I still haven’t figured how to stop that yet, but it’s impossible for you to be the reason everything happens. Correlation-”
“-doesn’t equal causation.” Peter frowns and grips Tony’s pants in his fist. Sure, he’d thought about that but there’s just too much of a coincidence. It has to be-
“Exactly and what’s more important than all that bull crap?” Tony puts his hand on Peter’s chest, he can feel his heart beating in his chest. “You. No matter what you think you’ve done. No matter what you have done- if you think you’re gay, if you can’t catch that guy who keeps stealing churro’s, or if something happens to any of us- it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t change who you. Not to us.” He glances at Rhodey. Remembering a very similar conversation Rhodey had with him when he wasn’t much older than Peter now. “I love you, Pete. It kills me you’re hurting but I can’t you, kid unless you tell me what you need.”
Everything that’s been wrong suddenly bubbling to the center of Peter’s chest. He doesn’t want to cry but Tony moves and Peter’s sitting up and wrapped in Tony’s arms. He doesn’t say a word but the arms squeezing him tight says it all. Peter buries his face in Tony’s chest and sobs.
Tony cups the back of his head and Peter grabs the back of Tony’s shirt. A part of Peter’s brain screams that he’s going to hurt Tony. Tony doesn’t love him. Maybe he doesn’t-
“I got you.” Tony rubs his back. “I got you, kid. I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”
Peter takes a shaky breath and wills himself to believe Tony.
“It’s gonna be okay. You’re okay.”
And, God, Peter just needs Tony to be right. He needs it so bad.