Chapter Text
A baby.
A tiny, fragile, needy human.
He should be excited. It shouldn’t take so much effort to put on a happy face. Tony and Pepper have been smiling so much, he’s pretty sure they’re glued on with super glue. Then they tell everyone else and a smile naturally slides onto their faces as well - granted they had all been smiling anyway because of the wedding. Getting a little sibling should be exciting.
But to Peter Parker,
It’s not.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Three months have come and gone since Tony and Pepper announced they’re going to have a baby. At that time, Pepper was 12 weeks into her pregnancy - which puts her around six months pregnant. Three more months and the baby will be here.
If Peter thought the first month of living with the Stark's was weird, he didn’t want to know what the last three would be classified as. Freaky? Mysterious? Kooky? Unnatural? Haunting?
Haunting.
That’s a good word to describe it. You’d think someone who has a background full of unresolved trauma could handle a pregnant woman and her overprotective husband, but you’d be wrong. For Peter, he really doesn’t know who is more terrifying.
His mom - who officially became an adoptive parent alongside Tony after they got married - has checked off every stereotypical pregnant woman box. Mood swings? Check. Morning sickness? Check. Baby brain? Definite check.
Those are all issues of their own, but by far the most unholy, Satan sanctioned, fuck loaded bullshit are the cravings. No one, I repeat, NO ONE should ever, ever, EVER, even think about eating string cheese dipped in vinegar.
Yet, that has become one of Pepper’s favorite snacks/meals/dessert. Just that..nothing else. She just lets the string cheese soak in vinegar until she deems it worthy of eating. And she can get away with it because she's pregnant.
Peter made the mistake one time of going to get a midnight snack after he woke up from a nightmare. It’s a mistake he’ll never make again. Pepper was having a triple whammy of a night. So when Peter walked into the kitchen he found his mom laying on top of the counter, crying hysterically while indulging on some mustard drizzled ice cream. That alone was terrifying, but then she spotted him.
“Tony? Why can’t I control my bladder anymore?” Okay, so maybe she didn’t realize that it was her son she was talking to and not her husband. “Every time I move I pee myself a little. I swear I smell like pee all the time and I don’t like smelling like pee.”
What the fuck is someone supposed to say to that? Peter sure as hell didn’t know. Except, not answering was the wrong move too. There was no winning. Her already teary eyes, filled even more as she let out a hysterical sob. “You better not be laughing at me Tony Anthony Stark or I swear on our baby’s life I will rip your balls off so you can never put me through this torture ever again.”
“I would never dream of laughing at you, sweetheart.” Peter whipped around to see a mortified looking Tony standing behind him. He threw his thumb over his shoulder signalling to Peter that he should leave now. Peter did not need to be told twice. His appetite was gone. Just as he was about to close his door he heard his dad again. “If it would make you feel better, every time you pee yourself I could pee myself too. That way you don’t feel like you’re the only one who smells like piss.”
Like he said, Tony went about being a pregnant wife’s husband in some of the most horrific ways known to the universe.
While the things his parents are doing are...interesting, to say the least, that isn’t the main problem Peter is facing. The issue is that Peter is scared. He’s scared his parents will forget about him. He’s scared they are going to realize that having a baby of their own is better than having an emotionally damaged teenager. He’s scared he won’t be a good enough big brother which will make his parents hate him.
If Tony and Pepper knew how much Peter wishes they weren’t having a baby, they wouldn’t want him around anymore. That’s why they will never find out. From the first fake smile Peter had to plaster on his face, he’s sworn to himself to keep it his secret.
Okay, so he’s talked to Dr. Nemins - his therapist - about it. She is always saying that honesty, patience, and openness are key factors towards healing. So it’s not like Peter could keep something so emotionally draining from her. Dr. Nemins is not a bad guy. She can help. But other than her, Peter hasn’t told anyone about how he’s truly feeling towards the baby.
Apparently when someone is having a baby, there are a lot of doctor appointments. At least, it feels like there are a lot. There are also pregnancy classes, birthing classes, and newborn baby classes. All of which highly encourage the husbands to attend. So that leaves Peter home alone for 2-3 hours after school before his parents get back from whatever class or appointment or whatnot that they had. He tries not to worry every time it takes them longer to get home than usual or think of all the horrible worst case scenarios that play through his head when he’s not with his parents.
Peter has realized though, that if he stays late after school or goes to Ned’s house, he isn’t home alone as long. So that’s what he’s been doing. He’s picked back up a few of the extracurricular activities he’d been doing before he stopped going. Robotics, Chem club, Engineering club, and - his all time favorite - Academic Decathlon. Four days out of the week, Peter stays at the school until 5pm. On Friday’s he goes to Ned’s house, where they play with LEGOs and watch movies (ahem, Star Wars) until Happy picks him up at 6pm. So all in all, Peter is keeping himself busy.
The only problem with so many extra activities is that he doesn’t have as much time for homework. Not that his homework is hard, but it still takes about 45 minutes to do all the reading and assignments on a good day. He tries to do it right as he gets home, but he gets in about the time his parents do. They talk, ask him how his day was, tell him about what they learned at their class of appointment, and then it’s dinner time. After dinner, around 8pm is his dedicated Spider-Man time. His curfew - because his parents refuse to let him go out vigilante-ing without a curfew, even though he’s told them many times that crime doesn’t stop happening just because Spider-Man has to go to sleep - is 11pm. He begged for hours to have it pushed to midnight, but then his dad threatened to shorten it to 10pm if he didn’t stop whining. By the time he gets home from saving people, showers, and his ready to do his homework, it’s close to midnight.
In the last month, Peter has averaged 3-4 hours of sleep each night, including the times he wakes up from nightmares, all hopes of falling back asleep lost. The sleep deprivation is taking a toll on him. Ned keeps having to elbow him in the side so that Peter doesn’t fall asleep during class. If his parents have noticed the bags under his eyes, they haven’t said anything - which means they haven’t noticed because his parents would freak out if they knew.
It’s Thursday night, Peter just landed on the top of an apartment building after stopping a mugger. Last night, he only got an hour of sleep. His stupid English teacher had given them a last minute 2 page essay due that morning. Peter supposes it should have been easy, the topic was ‘write about your favorite thing to do’. Which is easy enough when your favorite thing is reading or building LEGOs, or playing sports. But when your favorite thing is swinging around the city in a spandex suit stopping criminals and sometimes getting stabbed, - not that getting stabbed is something he enjoys - you can’t really put that in a school essay. It was sad how hard it was for him to think of something else he found enjoyable enough to write a 2 page paper on. In his defense, he had just finished the behemoth of a packet of chemistry homework, read 5 chapters of the assigned reading, and finished the robot he and Ned are competing with on Saturday at a competition.
“Karen what time is it?” Peter asks his A.I - the one Tony made him.
“It is 10:47pm, Peter. I suggest you head on home now so you don’t miss your curfew.”
Rolling his eyes, Peter stands from his spot. “Yeah, yeah. I’m going.” He’s still bitter about having a curfew. The knowledge that while he is at home safe in bed, someone else could be bleeding out on the sidewalk after being stabbed in an attack Spider-Man could have stopped, makes him nauseous. Dr. Nemins says he can’t blame himself anytime someone anywhere in the city gets hurt - because his mind likes to play the ‘If I was there…’ game. It’s something they’ve been working on a lot. She says he is unhealthily selfless and that a little bit of selfishness is good for the soul.
As he’s about to drop off the side of the building when Peter hears the scream. “Karen?” He doesn’t have to ask anymore, she just knows. The map in the corner of his screen highlights the fastest route, leading him in the opposite direction of his home. He jumps off the roof, catching himself with a ‘thwip’ as a web shoots from his web shooters, latching onto a light post. .
“Peter you’re going to be late for curfew.” Karen unnecessarily reminds him.
“You think I hadn’t figured that out already? What do you want me to do Karen? Leave someone to get mugged? Or worse?” Peter understands that Tony programmed Karen to take care of him making sure he stays safe and follows the rules, so he feels bad when he snaps at her.
Peter has to stop as he approaches the scene before him. A big burly man is towering over a young mom, her daughter clinging onto the back of her shirt. The girl couldn’t be older than 4. It looks like a mugging gone wrong. A purse is tossed to the side, it’s content spilling out. And there, glinting in the light of a street lamp - a gun. The man is pressing it into the mother’s stomach as he says something to her.
Hiding in the shadows, Peter creeps his way closer to hear what the man is saying. “Since you had nothing in your purse, you’re gonna take me back to your apartment, show me what you’re really worth.” The tone of his voice, darkness in his eyes, his free hand grabbing the woman’s waist. It all sends Peter into a panicked rage.
He swings down, knocking into the side of the man. The woman screams again in surprise, one hand reaching back to hold onto her daughter. “Hey hey hey, I’m not gonna hurt you. Are you okay? Are either of you hurt?” He asks. The mother turns to face her daughter, giving her a quick once over. She shakes her head when she decides they’re both uninjured.
The few seconds he took to check on the mom and daughter, turned out to be a few seconds too long. Peter’s spidey sense tingles painfully before a loud crack echoed through the alley way. It took longer than it should have for Peter to recognize that he was the one who just got shot - the burning in his left side cluing him in.
Looking down, Peter watched as his suit darkened. It was oddly satisfying how smoothly he was bleeding out - or maybe that’s just his delirious, shocked brain speaking. “Ow.” He looked up at the mugger, who had just raised the gun again. “I think one shot for tonight is enough.”
Peter acted quickly, ignoring the scream of his side every time he moved. He grabbed the gun with a web, pulling it from the man’s hands and sending it to the opening of the alley. The man continued to fight, despite his weapon being discarded. “Are you new here? That would be my guess. I’ll fill you in on a little secret; I’m a superhero so trying to fight me is just a waste of energy. Both yours and mine.” Peter ducked as the man sent blow after blow at his head. He felt himself moving slower than usual, so when a fist finally made contact with his face, he wasn’t surprised. “Maybe try avoiding the face? I’ve got places to be and people to see tomorrow. I don’t really need people asking about the giant bruise on my face.”
Half a minute later, Peter decided to stop dodging. He shot a web at the man’s feet, keeping him stuck in place. The mugger’s arms waved around in the air like a windmill as he tried to keep his balance. When he started to fall forward, Peter caught his shoulders - while the mugger is definitely a bad guy, nobody should have to suffer through a broken nose. Peter was pushing the man back, focused on trying to force him to sit. That’s why he didn’t notice the shine of the knife or the tingle of his spidey sense - and not because he is sleep deprived.
This time it didn’t take Peter a moment to process that he was injured. He felt as the blade sliced through each layer of tissue and muscle. He felt as the knife was twisted sharply to cause more damage. He felt as the man pulled it back out, before plunging it in once more.
Peter pushed the man away from him, effectively knocking him out as his head hit the ground beneath him. Karen confirmed that he was just knocked out, only sustaining a minor concussion. Peter webbed the mugger to the ground, with just a little bit of overkill.
After he was sure the man wouldn’t be leaving that spot for a long time, Peter leaned against a wall, trying to stop his head from spinning. “Are you okay?” The young mom and her daughter were still there. Peter lifted his head, his eyes unfocused. Did she say something?
He mumbled a half coherent “I’m fine.” before climbing the same wall he was leaning on. As he reached the top, Peter slumped to the floor. He looked at his stomach again. “Well this is a minor inconvenience.”
“Peter, according to my protocols I am connecting you to your dad.” Karen warned him.
“Wait, Karen. Don’t call hi-”
“Kid, It’s past curfew. Where the hell are you? You better have a damn good reason for not being back.” Tony cut him off. Even though his words said he was angry, his voice was only filled with concern.
Peter felt delusional at this point. He was tired, dizzy, hungry, and in pain. What was he in pain? He poked his stomach slightly. Oh yes. Hahaha, he is in pain, silly him. He laughed out loud. “Peter? What’s wrong?” Is his dad here? Where is he? Why can’t he see him?
“Dad? I didn’t know you were here. I can’t see you, where are you?” Peter half giggled, half mumbled.
“Karen, talk to me. What happened?” Tony was feeling a little frantic at the moment. His son sounded drunk. Peter wouldn’t underage drink, would he?
“Peter was shot once and stabbed twice. He’s lost a lot of blood. I believe his altered mental state is partially due to these factors. I’ve already sent you his location.” Karen, for being an A.I, sounded almost motherly; worried, protective, scared. If he had the time to pat himself on the back, Tony would. However, his kid is bleeding out somewhere, so the back pats will have to wait.
“Hey dad?” Peter whispered - still stifling the involuntary crazed little giggles, knowing he has to be serious for a second. “I’m sorry I kept it a secret from you. I just didn’t want to disappoint you or mom.”
“What? What are you talking about Pete? Peter?” He repeated when his kid didn’t answer.
“Hmm?”
“You gotta keep talking to me bud. What did you mean by keeping it a secret? What secret?”
“Oh.” Peter’s eyes slipped closed before shooting wide open, trying to stay awake. He’s missed his dad. This little talk has been nice. He isn’t ready for it to end yet. “The secret about the baby. The one Dr. Memis? Dr. Nemo? Dr. Nim…. Whatever her name is, my therapist. Hmm, I like my therapist. She’s nice. She lets me talk about everything and she never gets mad.” What was he doing again?
“Yeah, she is nice Pete.” That’s right he’s talking to his dad. “Let’s go back to the secret though bud. What secret?”
Secret? Does he have a secret? Why would he keep a secret from his parents? They’re his family and soon the baby...oh the baby secret. “Oh yeah. I don’t want you to have a baby.” This time, when his eyes slipped shut, Peter couldn’t open them again as unconsciousness finally claimed him.
“What?”