Chapter Text
My entire body trembled like, trembled like- oh who gives a shit! I can’t stop shaking, I can’t stop but I don’t even know if I want to. I pulled my cracked phone from my pocket, ignoring the blood on my hand, I hit the second number listed, he picked up on the first ring. Thank god.
Mr. Stark’s voice came through the phone so light and happy and I’m gonna ruin it like the selfish piece of shit that I am, “hey kiddo, what’s going on?” He asked. I did not mean to let out a sob at the sound of him. Immediately his voice turned serious, pace quickening just a bit, “what’s wrong? Peter, why are you crying? Are you hurt?” How can I tell him that I’m more than hurt? How can I tell him that I can’t recover?
Through my pathetic cries, gasping in breaths, I tried to get out, “da- I- I, sh-” I cut myself off with a sob that wracked my whole body. I’m so weak I can barely get out a single word, how can I be like this? He’ll leave me too if I keep this up…
He was quick to try to quiet me down, ‘try’ being the key word, “hey, hey, I’m here kid,” no you’re not, no ones here, I’m alone and that’s how it’s meant to be, “I’m here, I’m getting my suit now, I’ll be physically here with you soon, okay? Can you tell me where you are?” His voice was somehow soft yet frantic, so full of love but also worry. I tried to get out the word, just the word ‘hospital’ but I couldn’t even blubber that out. All that sounded were gross whines and whimpers as I cried far too hard to be healthy.
When all I did was gasp as inhales and cry out as exhales, he kept talking, “I’m in my suit now,” I heard his thrusters sound like proof of his statement, “I’m tracking your phone. I’ll be there as soon as I can, okay? I won’t hang up, I’m here for you, Pete.” I wish that could be true, I wish I could believe that he’ll actually be here for me, that he can be here and stay. Even if he does fly in to try to save the day like the superhero he is, he can’t fix this.
Even if he comes here, he’ll be gone in a flash. He’ll leave again, come and go that’s all he does. That’s all anyone does…
I did not realize he was speaking until his voice got even more panicked, his calm façade completely gone, “-er, Peter, are you with me? Can you say something? Please , kid.”
This time, knowing I wouldn’t be able to say anything even if I wanted to, I just let out yet another whimper as an answer. To my pathetic little sound, he kept talking, “okay kid, that’s okay, you don’t need to talk right now. I’m coming,” he continued these kinds of reassurances while he flew. He kept going on and on about how he’s gonna be here with me and how it’s okay to cry, how I’ll be okay, how he’ll fix everything. And it’s all lies.
I heard his thrusters coming long before he busted through the hospital doors. And I still stayed curled up on the floor, phone pressed against my ear as sob after sob poured out of me and and god what if they never end? Even when I heard the metal suit open, when I heard him call my name and run over to me, I still didn’t have the energy to raise my head. Even when he kneeled in front of me, saying things my mind wouldn’t register, asking questions I can’t comprehend at the moment, tear after tear still leaked from my eyes. Even when his arms wrapped around me, pulling me onto his lap like a small child, I practically am one at this point , and he held me to his chest, I couldn’t follow his exaggerated breathing. It’s just in and out, in an out, it shouldn’t be so impossible.
All I could do was grip his worn out t-shirt in my hand, using my spider stickiness to selfishly make sure he wouldn’t leave while I sobbed. No matter how many exaggerated breaths or how many times he counted up to three, I could not get more than tiny ineffective gasps of air. But he still held me through each sob.
When the nurse came forward, I felt Mr. Stark's arms wrapped around hold me tighter, protectively. When she told him the news, I used my hand that wasn’t attached to his shirt to cover my ear, my other ear pressed hard against his chest, please don’t make me hear it again. She’s dead. Aunt May is dead. My last living relative is dead. She’s gone and she’s not coming back. Why must they all keep repeating it? I’m not some stupid four year old anymore, I know what dead actually means this time.
When the nurse finally left us, Mr. Stark shifted so that one hand rubbed my back and the other ran his fingers through my blood stained hair. How can he hold me so close when my face is covered in tears and snot and my body is covered in my own and Aunt May’s blood?
When I thought maybe I could reduce my sobs to just pitiful cries, I was hit by another pathetic sob. But he still kept whispering reassurances to me as if I’m not absolutely disgusting, “I’m here Pete, I’m not letting you go,” don’t you dare promise me you’ll stay, that’s not a promise anyone can make even in the best intentions , “I’ll take care of you, okay? I won’t let you go… Are you ready to head to the compound?”
I tried to calm down enough to be able to vocalize a response, but I just couldn’t, I’m too weak to. He seemed to understand my struggle, continuing, “it’s okay if you can’t say anything, a nod or shake of the head is okay. We can leave whenever you want, I told Happy to drive up while I was flying over.”
No! No, no we can’t drive. We need to go, I need to go, but not by car. I can’t ever go in one of those death vehicles again, I just can’t. Please don’t make me…
I managed a jerky nod, but at that point I wasn’t even sure what I was saying yes to. I tried to ignore how the nod made my head hurt somehow worse. I couldn’t find it in me to vocalize any of my thoughts. I just knew I needed to get out of there, the combined sobbing, with the injury from the accident, with the stench of blood, with the smell of cleaning products all made my head hurt so bad it’s like I was repeatedly being smashed in the skull with a hammer. Or rather, repeatedly being in the accident again and again and again, like I deserve. Even that would be less pain than this.
With my lame wordless response, he shifted and I immediately took my other hand and clutched his shirt, sticking to him with both hands. “Hey, hey, it’s okay. I’m just getting ready to carry you, I’m not letting you go.” As embarrassing as it is to be carried like a literal baby, I could not care less in the moment as long as he does not make me let go.
Finally, my breathing began to calm down, maybe because I just did not have the energy to continue to hyperventilate. Though I still continued to hiccup, tears still streaming down my bruised face, but not quite as hard.
He shifted so that one arm was around my back and the other was under my knees. With a groan, he stood up, carrying me like I weigh as little as a doll. Taking me out of the horribly smelling room, all I could do was press my face to his neck when medical personnel kept trying to stop Mr. Stark from leaving with me, but with what I assume was some scary look, he demanded them to let us go. With a promise his lawyers would be by to figure out all the logistics, he brought me outside the hospital, his suit following us.
Getting to the car, Happy came out of the driver's seat, opening the back door for us since Mr Stark couldn't with his hands full. Seeing the car I couldn’t help my trembling, I fiercely shook my head despite the sharp pain, please please don’t make me go back in there. Please, it’s not safe. I can’t lose another person I love because I’m too weak and stupid to save them. He let out a sigh, “I know you don’t wanna go in there buddy, but it’s the safest way to bring you home. I won’t let anything happen to you.” But I’m not scared about my own safety, I’m scared about his and Happy’s.
I continued to shake my head, despite it only increasing my headache. Please don’t make me, please please please.
He let out a deep breath, “kid, the only other option is for me to get in the suit and carry you to the compound.” That, I’ll do that. Anything to keep him away from the car. I nodded into his chest, hoping he understood me. He turned back to Happy, “I’m sorry, we’ll be flying. Thank you for coming anyway though.” Instead of grumbling about wasting his time, he just nodded in understanding before getting back into the overly expensive car.
Mr. Stark turned to his suit, “I need to put you down for a second,” when I only held him tighter, he went on, “I swear it’ll only be for a second, just so I can get into the suit. I’ll pick you back up right away.” How childish do I have to be to panic over him not holding me for just a few breaths.
When he tried to place me on the ground, I could not help the whine that escaped me, but he was quick to try to soothe me, “it’s okay, I’m just putting you down so I can get in,” my only response was to let go of him enough so he could get in. The second he was in the Iron Man suit, I was back in his arms, trying to get as close to him as I could even if he was covered in metal. He wrapped his arms around my back, my arms around his neck, legs around his waist. I’m literally holding him like a koala.
I wouldn’t have even needed to use my stickiness to hold on, I was wrapped around him so tightly. That doesn’t mean I didn’t use my stickiness. When we arrived at the compound, we didn’t head to my room or even the common room like I expected. Instead, he brought me to the medbay. Upon noticing my eyes squeezed shut, he commanded Friday to lower the lights, only then was I able to peek my eyes open. He was quick to explain, “I need to check out those wounds of yours, I’m sure you didn’t let the doctors anywhere near you,” he would have chuckled at the last part if I wasn’t still holding him like a baby and sniffling my nose off.
Landing, I knew what was coming and I could not help gripping him tighter. After a few more reassurances, I reluctantly let him go, only to immediately go back to him for a hug. He did not hesitate to embrace me, he whispered, “kiddo, after I check your wounds we can cuddle all you want, okay? Just let me check you over.” With more than a little reluctance and several reassurances, I pulled back from the embrace. But I still kept one hand attached to his shirt.
Knowing that’s the best he’ll get out of me, he asked Friday to scan my wounds. “He sustained a mild concussion, has several small cuts over his body, and mild bruising.” With a nod, he began to make his way around his room, me following along like a puppy on a leash. After retrieving whatever it was he needed, I really wasn’t paying attention, he sat me down.
He looked at me and sighed, that’s totally not concerning at all , “I know you’re not going to want to shower right now, so I’m going to wash off your cuts okay?” I tried to give a small nod, but ended up with a wince. He gave me a sympathetic look, continuing on, “After you’re bandaged up, we can go upstairs and watch whatever you want. You need to rest but I can’t let you sleep yet until your concussion is better,” not like I would be able to sleep anyway, I can’t risk being unconscious and Mr. Stark leaving, “I’ll stay with you the whole time, okay?” He promised me. I know better than to believe in promises.
I’m not sure when he filled a bowl with water, I guess I’m more out of it than I thought. He wetted a soft looking washcloth, warning me that it’ll sting before beginning to wash the blood off my face. I could not help but wince when he touched my bruises. When the car hit us, I was so stupid I didn’t even brace myself, letting my head smack into the side window like an idiot. After washing my face, he got to work on trying to get the dried blood out of my hair.
While he cleaned me like the baby I am, I kept my eyes on him. Looking at his shirt I couldn’t help the pang of guilt in me, I’m sure his outfit cost more than my entire apartment and I got tears, snot, and blood on it. All I do is destroy everything I touch, and yet I still can’t let go of his shirt. Though I did need to alternate which hand was holding his shirt when he wiped the blood of them, only for me to latch back onto his clothes like a lifeline. I think it is at this point.
Though we both knew it was unnecessary with my speed healing, he still put bandages over my cuts from all the broken glass. He’s always been extra, I guess. He looked me over, before letting out a deep breath, “we need to get you into some new clothes.” But that means I’ll need to leave and yeah I don’t believe in promises but he still did assure me again and again he’ll stay with me and- he cut off my thoughts before I could spiral too much, “I’ll stay with you if you want, I need to change too,” he gave me a small smile but it did little to assure me.
He wrapped an arm around me, and I immediately nuzzled into his side, while he led me to the elevator. We stopped by his room first, him snatching up the first set of clothes he could, before we went to my room. When I made no move to pick anything out, he chose some soft pajamas for me. I shamelessly, okay maybe a bit of shame but whatever , let out a childish whine, knowing I’ll need to be unglued from his side so we could change.
After promising yet again we can cuddle all I want right after, he managed to get me off of him. I changed into my pajamas as quickly as I could, thankfully he changed into his worn out t-shirt and jeans just as quickly. I did not bother to put my phone into my pajama pants pocket, instead leaving them with my dirtied clothes. The second we were both done I was back at his side, this time I looped my finger through his empty belt loop, using that to hold onto him. I let him lead me to his private movie room just for us, usually we only used it after a panic attack or sensory overload but I couldn't help but be thankful for the privacy it gave us. I know it must be so insanely selfish, but right now I want Mr. Stark all to myself. I just… I need him right now, as childish as it must sound. But part of me doesn’t care if I’m being annoyingly clingy and childish, I can’t risk losing him. Not him too.
He helped me onto the cloud like couch, putting a pile of blankets over me while he told Friday to play a happy movie. He kept both arms wrapped around me as I was practically in his lap, trying to get as close to him as possible, as if that will make him stay , while The LEGO Movie played on the large screen. As promised, I spent the rest of the night in his arms, though he did shift so he could gingerly run his fingers through my hair, careful not to agitate my bruises. Though I was as comfortable as I could be, given the situation, I kept myself awake. Being unconscious gives him the chance to leave and I don’t care if I’m selfish, I can’t let him leave, I can’t lose another person I love.
Only after he was sure my super healing had taken care of my concussion enough to make it safe for me to sleep, did he try to convince me to rest. After my wordless refusal, still too tired to manage anything verbal, he promised, “Petey, I know you’re scared but I’m not going anywhere. I swear I’ll stay with you all night if you want me to.” Though, I still tried to stay awake as long as I could. But with the lights dimmed even darker, whatever movie playing softly in the background, and Mr. Starks fingers so comforting in my hair, sleep finally got the better of me. But before I could drift off, I made sure to use my stickiness to hold onto his shirt, just in case.