Work Text:
College is nothing like Peter Parker thought it would be.
When you gain superpowers at fourteen, become a superhero at fifteen and repeatedly face off against dangerous supervillains and aliens alike to save the world from their ambitions to conquer it every other week, sitting in a classroom and learning about how the world around you works seems like a walk in the park.
Peter's experience, however, proves that it is anything but.
He will take facing off against Mystero or even the Vulture over college, as it stands right now.
It wasn’t so bad in the beginning -- when he first arrived -- but now Peter can barely find the energy to do anything. Why do the simplest things suddenly seem so hard?
Peter misses his family and friends. He misses Aunt May and their breakfast conversations before he goes off to school, or whatever he has on his schedule for the day. He really misses lab days with Tony. He misses spending time with Morgan and watching her grow into a scary and amazing combination of both her parents. He misses Harley and their totally-not-a-rivalry. Peter wishes he had chosen to study a course he can do at MIT. Or even convinced Harley to come study at his school.
More than anything, he misses his best friends. He would give anything to have Ned and MJ here with him. If only, just so he wouldn't feel so lost and alone in the world.
Initially, it had been thrilling to break out on his own, away from his friends, family, and everyone he knew. He felt ready to take on the normal challenges of life as a normal college student: no superheroes, supervillains or even super-relatives butting into his life at every moment to help him.
But now, it all seems like a mistake.
Peter should have gone to MIT, where Tony is invited every other week to deliver a guest lecture and they can see each other often. Then he could hang out with Harley whenever he wanted. Or better yet, he should have gone to Columbia, so he would never have to leave home in the first place. He could keep having breakfast with Aunt May for the next four years!
He could --
The buzzing of Peter’s phone drags him out of his musings, seeming to startle awake a couple of students sitting next to him in class.
It's Tony.
I'll have to call him back after class, Peter thinks to himself.
It's the same thing he’s said to himself the other two times Tony called him, but he does not let the thought linger before he turns his attention to the lecturer.
It's not that Peter doesn’t want to talk to Tony. On the contrary, there is so much he wants to share with the man. But Peter is afraid that if he starts talking, he'll never stop. And then everyone will know what a failure he is, that the kid who became a superhero at fifteen can’t even hack it for one semester at college.
He cannot have that. Tony believes in Peter.
The rest of the day goes just like it started: with Peter so homesick, he can barely function. He hardly even remembers anything from his classes; they pass in a hazy fog of half-absorbed lectures and assignments. His last class turned out to be even worse, when the lecturer decided to give a test and Peter barely wrote anything beyond his name and matriculation number.
Before the test was even over, Peter knew he failed. He’s never failed a test in his life; the shame of it eats at him.
He hasn't slept in three days, and he's pretty sure the cereal he made himself for breakfast is still sitting untouched on the counter, in the communal kitchen of his apartment.
Peter wants to call Aunt May and cry to her. Tell her how much he misses her and all the things he hates about college. So she can comfort him like she used to do whenever he had a bad day, but he can't.
Peter's an adult now and he’s supposed to act like one.
He should be able to handle the challenges of life as a college student. It’s nothing in comparison to fighting to save the world. And yet . . .
By the time Peter returns to his apartment, he's tired to his bone marrow.
He feels exhausted in a way he never had, not even when he first started out as Spiderman and was losing sleep in order to patrol.
Without input from his brain, his legs take him to the communal kitchen.
"You okay?" one of his roommates, Heather, asks him, looking worried as she watches him from across the kitchen island.
"I…"
Peter doesn’t know how to respond to the question. He should be okay, yet he doesn't feel okay.
But telling her that will only increase her concern, and Peter doesn’t want to be a burden.
"Bad day?" Heather asks again, when it becomes clear that he has no answer.
More like bad month, Peter thinks.
But he doesn't say it.
Because if Peter acknowledges this -- whatever it is -- aloud, he’s making it real. And Peter can’t do that. He will figure out how to handle this, just like he figured out how to make his web-slingers. Some things just seem extra hard in the beginning.
"College is crazy and nothing like I thought it would be. Just know you're not alone, okay?" Heather says, suddenly standing in front of him, handing him a bottle of water.
When did she move closer?
"I'm always available if you ever need somebody to listen."
Peter accepts the water with a wordless nod of thanks before backing out of the kitchen.
Once he's in his room, he falls face-first on his bed. He just wants to sleep till the world starts making sense.
Peter stares at the ceiling of his bedroom a few days later. He knows he's been sleeping for longer than he should, but he can't bring himself to get up from the bed. Right now, he has no motivation to do anything.
His phone rings a couple of times. After the second time, Peter mutes it.
He wants to talk to everyone. But he won’t. Because he can’t admit what’s going on and let down all of the people who believe in him.
Peter Parker is a superhero. Superheroes aren’t supposed to need rescuing . . . especially not from loneliness.
It’s been a couple of days since he last answered his phone or left his room when his door suddenly bursts open. His spider senses don’t register any threats, so Peter doesn't bother to check who it is.
His blanket is pulled back and the press of a warm palm settles on his forehead. Peter leans into the touch and tries not to cry.
It feels like home.
"Hey, buddy," Tony Stark says softly, “I haven’t heard from you in a week.”
Peter drags himself out from under the covers. Tony is looking at him with clear concern in his gaze. Peter's brain has a hard time putting together the information his eyes are sending him. Tony Stark is in his college apartment.
"Wha—?” Peter starts, his voice hoarse from disuse. "How are you here?"
"If you're asking how I'm in your school, two thousand miles from home, I got on the jet and flew over when you wouldn't answer the phone," Tony says with a straight face, despite his snarky tone. "If you're asking how I made it past the building security, your roommate, the young lady with the pretty pink hair, let me in."
"That's Heather," Peter corrects absently, as he really looks at Tony.
"You're here," Peter says, when his brain finally catches up. He feels so overwhelmed at the sight of Tony, that he could cry. He throws himself at Tony in a hug.
"You're really here," he repeats, voice heavy with emotion. He breathes in that familiar cologne that Peter has missed so much, squeezing his eyes shut to prevent the tears that threaten to fall.
"I'm here, buddy," Tony says, hugging him close. "I told you, I'll always be here for you."
It’s like those words open the floodgates. Everything Peter has been working so hard to hold on to is set loose. The next thing he knows, Peter is bawling like a baby while Tony whispers words of comfort to him.
He doesn't even know why he's crying, but in this moment, it feels so good to let it all go and just enjoy the feeling of being held. Knowing that Tony is there for him makes all the difference.
Tony pulls him down so they're both sitting on the bed and tucks Peter into his side. Peter has never felt so protected.
"I missed you so much," he tells Tony a few minutes later when he can make actual words again, instead of unintelligible sounds.
"I missed you, too, buddy," Tony says, running a hand through his hair. "I didn't realize you were having such a difficult time adjusting. Why didn't you say something?"
Peter flushes from embarrassment at being so obvious. "I'm not — I'm doing alright, okay?"
Tony raises an unimpressed brow. "Peter, you're not answering your phone, you haven't left your apartment in three days, and it looks like you spent those days in bed. All this" — he gestures at the entire room — "doesn't paint a picture of someone 'doing alright'."
Peter flushes in embarrassment when he takes in just how messy his room is. His reading desk and the surrounding area is covered with books, there're clothes strewn all over the floor, a half eaten churro is on his laptop and an old box of pizza is peeking out from under a pair of jeans on the floor.
"I know how it looks, okay?"
He sounds more than a little defensive, even to himself. Peter pulls out of Tony's embrace, hoping it will distract Tony from the mess his room — and life — is.
"I just need some time to figure stuff out."
"Hey, it's okay if you're having a hard time adjusting to life away from everything you know. There's nothing wrong with that. Also, needing help doesn't make you weak."
"Yeah, but—” Peter starts, but Tony cuts him off.
"Why don't you tell me what's really going on?"
Peter knows Tony will not judge him. Tony is the least judgmental person Peter knows. But the thought of admitting what a failure he is to Tony Stark, the one person who never fails to tell Peter how much better Peter is than him and how much he believes in Peter … he just can't.
The thought makes his stomach turn and his heart beat faster.
"Peter," Tony calls softly.
The hand resting on his shoulder is warm and it helps calm him.
"Hey, why don't you go take a shower and I'll order us some food? How does that sound?" Tony offers.
Tony's eyes are warm and understanding when Peter searches his face. It makes Peter want to kick himself. He doesn't know why he blurts out the truth he’s been hiding for so long.
"It's not that I don't want to talk to you or answer my phone," Peter starts without meaning to speak.
But now that he has, it's like a dam has broken.
"I just missed you guys so much! And I thought, maybe if I didn't talk to you for a couple of days it would get better. Except it didn't. It only made me miss you more. And college wasn't as fun as I thought it would be. It was hard and stressful and demanding and I failed my first test.
"I'm not new to stress. I'm freaking Spiderman. I fight supervillains regularly; I've been to space and fought Thanos twice! College should be a breeze. I should be able to get through college without calling home everyday to lament to my family about how homesick I am. I mean, you did it when you were twelve. I'm eighteen; I shouldn't be having such a hard time."
Peter sighs as his eyes well up with tears again. Sometime during his rant, Tony gathered him in his arms again. It feels like home.
"But nothing I do seems to work. Instead, it got worse. I didn't mean to cut you off. I'm sorry."
After hearing himself put it into words, Peter feels even more ashamed. He keeps his eyes downcast, refusing to look up and see the disappointment in Tony's gaze.
The man himself has been silent throughout Peter's tirade, listening attentively, and he's quiet for a few moments more after Peter is done.
"Don't should all over yourself," Tony says.
It's such a stupid thing to say, and Peter feels like Tony has not been listening to him. "What?" he asks, baffled.
"When you start saying things like 'I should be able to do this' or 'this should be easy for me' or any variation of it, it's a sign that you've stopped doing that thing for yourself and your well-being. It means you're trying to prove yourself to someone or gain the approval of others and that's unhealthy. Your family, the people who matter and love you, they won't think less of you or stop loving you because you're having a hard time adjusting to college. We've all been there; we know how hard it is striking out on your own for the first time. Nobody gets through college or even life all on their own."
That's news to Peter and he's not sure he believes it. It sounds just like something Tony would say to make him feel better. This is Tony Stark, the smartest person Peter knows and the one man who is constantly changing the world. The child genius who got into college at the age of twelve. How does he expect Peter to believe college was hard for him?
His skepticism must have shown on his face, because Tony continues.
"You can call Rhodey up, have him tell you all about the things I got up to in college. One time, I got—” Tony paused and eyed Peter. "Well, that's a story for when you're a little older. The thing is, without Rhodey, I never would have made it through college. I most likely would have ODed in my second semester of freshman year."
"Really?" Peter asks, stunned.
He always knew Tony had a past, but he had no idea it went as far back as college. Tony Stark was a prodigy. If college was so hard for him that he resorted to drug abuse, then maybe he did understand and Peter wasn't as much of a failure as he thought.
"Really. And Rhodey? Don't let his reputation as War Machine fool you; Rhodey is a total mama's boy. Mama Rhodes was your definition of helicopter mom. She visited us regularly to make sure we were fine. And, one time, she got into it with our robotics professor because he failed Rhodey."
"Jim?!"
Jim is the most self-sufficient and disciplined human being on the planet! Peter has a hard time picturing Jim's mother hovering over him to make sure he was eating okay. And he can’t even imagine Jim failing a class!
Tony spends the next half hour regaling him with stories of Mama Rhodes' exploits during his and Jim's college days, as well as some of the shenanigans he got up to with Jim. Peter thought they were crazy and funny, but after his own experience, he knew they must have been pretty scary at the time. All in all, the stories went a long way toward lifting Peter's spirits.
Later, when Tony herds Peter to the bathroom, with a promise of food when he gets out, Peter notices he didn't even realize how hungry he'd been before Tony mentioned food.
He spends longer than he wants to admit in the bathroom, but if Tony is correct, then it's been three days since his last shower. The water feels great on his skin. He already feels so much better than he has in weeks.
Peter's greeted by the smell of pizza and a much cleaner everything when he steps back into the room.
They eat lunch while streaming Dr. Dolittle on Netflix. After that, Tony suggests they play the new Spiderman video game Peter bought just before he left for college.
"No way," Peter laughs, rejecting the suggestion. He feels lighter than he has in a long time. "I'm never playing another video game with you. You always cheat."
"No, I don't," Tony taunts. "You just don't want to admit that an old man schools you at video games."
At that, Peter pauses in his tracks, where he's setting up his PS5 console and turns to look Tony in the eyes before he responds. "OK, Boomer."
Tony laughs long and hard.
"Fri," he calls out, "did you hear that? What do you say we show this Gen Zner how to play video games, and then let all his followers on Twitter know he was schooled by a Boomer?"
"I knew it!" Peter crows in delight, feeling vindicated. "I knew you were cheating!!"
Tony still beats him at video game, with FRIDAY hacking the game to help him cheat of course.
But by the end of the weekend, Peter feels ready to take on college.