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It was his fault, and he knew it. Peter was tired. So, so tired.
He had gotten reckless and he now regrets it.
Warm hands dripped with something sticky as he pulled the shaky hands away from the fresh wound that slit across his chest while trying to prevent his body from free falling.
It was deep. Very deep. Too deep for comfort.
And it stung. Oh it stung.
He messed up he messed up he messed up. I messed up.
The cold, damp rain soaked through the fabric of his suit while climbing up the steep building, trying to find somewhere he belonged. Where did he belong? Oh gosh, where did he belong?
He remembered, he knew he did.
It was... somewhere safe and loving and in warm arms... Not here, that's for sure.
His bloodied palms reached glass, and he didn't dare look down at the New York lights below. Monsters lurked down there. These monsters snapped at his feet every inch of the way up, their teeth threatening to shred every mere fiber of his being.
He couldn't let them he couldn't let them.
The sound of the glass shattering under his hands was unexpected, even if he knew he was the one who had done it. Shards of glass sliced into his palms, engraving themselves into his fingertips and even up to his elbows. His body fell forward and flat onto the tiled floor below.
Gosh he was so tired.
A groan escaped him, but he couldn't hear it. He couldn't hear anything. Nothing but ringing and regret. That was until a familiar voice interrupted that deaf moment. "Who's there?!"
Panic panic panic.
He'll hate me, he'll hate me, he'll hate me!
Sobs wracked his frame, his chest rising and falling against the cold tile. His face turned away from the voice. He knew that voice! Right?
"Whoever the frick you are, I suggest you get-" There was a moment of silence. And then it extended into a deafening silence even though his sobs echoed through the halls of the tower.
"Peter!"
That was a different tone, it was full of panic and... worry?
The sounds came back to him. Sounds of the pounding rain now clearly dripping onto the tiles through the shattered window, his own breathing and heartbeat, along with the spiked heart rate of the person now rushing toward him.
Words spilled out of him through choking sobs even before someone carefully turned him over onto his back, "I'm sorry! I-I'm sorr-y please!! I should- I should have-"
"Shh... Kid-"
"I'm so s-sorry! I should h-have lis-"
"Kid, we need to get you out of here and cleaned up..."
He didn't respond after that, and he swore he felt fingertips press against his pulse point, like this person was just making sure he was still alive. A sigh escaped the the man beside him, as if expressing relief.
The memory of being carried and placed onto something much softer was nonexistent. His skin crawled, and he felt dizzy as if entering into some sort of spiraling tunnel.
That is, until he lost consciousness altogether.
...===...
The sound of beeping roused him from his dreamless sleep. He lay still for a long while, and the lack of movement allowed him to trace another heartbeat in the room besides his own. His eyebrows scrunched just slightly, and his head tilted to the side near said heartbeat. A scent of gasoline and motor oil filled his nose as he tilted his head further, and with all the strength he could muster, he dragged his arm across the sheets of the bed he was resting on, slowly. That is, until it bumped against something slumped on the side of his mattress.
That was when Peter peeled one eye open, letting it focus on what the object was. Except for the fact that it was not just an object, but a person slouched over with arms crossed and forehead resting on the center of them. Only, one of the person's hands was holding his own.
Tony.
His heart leaped into his throat, suddenly remembering the guilt from last night. All of it just came tumbling down onto him, crushing him and squeezing all the life out of him. The heart monitor must have sped up and disrupted the sleeping man from his slumber, because the next thing Peter knew, red-rimmed eyes stared at his glassy ones.
The spider-ling spluttered, gritting his teeth until his jaw hurt and letting the tears now fall freely down his red face.
"Oh, kiddo... Hey, shh..." A gentle hand rose to wipe the tears away from his already stained cheeks. Peter opened his mouth to speak, but all that came out was a pathetic little squeak at first. Yeah, pathetic just like you, you should have listened.
"I-I messed u-up," He croaked. Tony's brows creased in slight confusion now, but still wildly laced with pure paternal worry. It was now or never. So, he prepared for the worst. Peter inhaled, "I- I knew you told me not to go out tonight... I-"
There was no expression change, and he started to panic anyway.
"T-Tony I wasn't meaning to mess up this badly I swear- I know I should have listened and I'm so sorry! I'm sorry I know I shouldn't have gone out, I should have left oh gosh I'm sorry, Peter took a sharp inhale.
Just take the suit away, I don't deserve it.
You don't need to take care of me anymore, I don't deserve it.
I don't deserve how you took me in after May died. I don't deserve it.
I don't deserve it.
I don't deserve you.
"Peter."
He snapped out of his trance, his breath shaky with sobs and sniffles escaped him. Both of Tony's hands were now placed on Peter's reddened face, wiping away any tear that threatened to fall further and soak into the white sheets.
He didn't make eye contact. Tony tilted his own head just slightly as if to tell him to look at him without any words needed. He obeyed this time.
Tony let a small smile tilt the corner of his lip and his eyes almost looked damp, "Peter, we all make mistakes. We all make mistakes. I've made plenty- many many more than I ever should have. But- It's part of life. It's alright."
There was a moment of silence before he continued.
"I know it's hard, but sometimes the things that life throws at us help us to grow stronger than before. We learn and we grow through these experiences." The smile faded slightly.
Peter continued to let his eyes stay focused on something other than Tony's own eyes, that was until Tony tilted his chin up.
"But, Peter." Tony sighed, as if conflicted. "I knew you were tired, after all that has happened with..." Tony didn't finish that sentence, and he was glad for it. He didn't want to think about it anymore.
"I just want to make sure you get rest, bud. I didn't want you to take a break from patrolling just ... I know you just needed some time to recover and get the rest you need."
Peter looked down, "I know... I'm so s-sorry. Please forgive me-"
The mechanic shushed him, and, in response, placed his other hand on top of Peter's head leaning down to press a soft kiss to his hairline. "Of course, Bambino."
The spiderling hummed, letting a subtle smile creep across his lips.
"I don't know what I would have done without you, Tony, I-" A pause, "Just- thank you for being there for me through all this..."
A small sigh of relief was heard, the breath ruffling his curls slightly.
"And I always will be, kid. Always."