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Peter didn't want to wake up and he fought against it for as long as he could. The pounding in his head just grew and grew, despite his efforts, and eventually his eyes were twitching open. At least he was in his own room this time rather than the Medbay. The lights were dim, too. Which meant that the gaze he could feel on him at the moment was coming from Tony. He was sitting at Peter's desk, his body turned to face the bed, and he looked exhausted.
They had been in this position so many times now. Too many for Tony's liking, and far too many for the lectures to actually have any effect.
"Unless you need to pee, you're not getting out of bed until tomorrow afternoon," Tony warned, his voice laced with frustration.
"Fine by me," Peter grumbled, shifting slightly to get comfortable. "Are you going to be here until then, too?"
Tony stared back at him, emotionless.
"You know it's chipping away at your healing, right? I'm sure you can feel it. It's not working like it used to, kid. If you're not going to listen to me and anyone else who tries to talk any sense into you, at least listen to your actual body."
"I do listen to my body," he huffed. "It wants to go back to sleep."
"It probably wants to fall asleep instead of passing out for once," the man snapped. "It probably forgets what that feels like."
Peter looked over to him, eyes still half-closed, peppered with bruises and dark circles.
"Don't you have a family to be with?" he asked bitterly. "You know, a wife and kid, far away from here?"
"Sure, they're at home. The home you're supposed to be at."
Peter scoffed, moving his attention back to the ceiling.
"I'm not a stray dog, Tony. I can fend for myself."
Now it was Tony's turn to scoff.
"Yeah, really looks like it."
"When have I ever asked you to be here? When have I asked for you to come take care of me?"
"When you started drinking and doing every drug you can get your hands on! That's when!" Tony explained. "I'm here for you, whenever you need, for whatever you need, but you're making it near impossible, Pete."
"Near? Maybe I'll try harder, then."
There was a moment of silence between them with Tony biting his tongue to hold back any further comment. Their relationship had been strained for months now, but it was approaching an all time low. Without May around, Tony was driving blind. He didn't know how to be a parent to a teenage boy. He had only just got a handle on being a parent to a newborn.
Tony never expected Peter to go through this easily. It was Hell. No other word for it. When Thanos snapped his fingers, half of the population was gone. For Peter, it was everyone. May, MJ and Ned were all gone. His whole life had abandoned him in this city, but he refused to leave.
When Tony and Pepper began their move to the lakehouse, Peter feigned some interest. It would have been nice to live with them, to be part of a family again, but when it came time to leave he just couldn't do it. Instead, he hit the streets harder than before. The world had gone into frenzy after the Snap and things were worse than ever before. It was hard to distinguish the missing from the dead and with houses left stranded, crimes were up everywhere.
Spider-Man took on the duties of everyone who could not longer fight, whether dead or given up. Without friends, without guidance, Peter had spiralled. In the worst way.
He knew that if May were here and could see what he was doing to himself, she would be heartbroken. But she wasn't here. None of them were. Only Tony, who had been doing everything and more to make sure Peter was okay and knew he wasn't alone. Peter just threw it all back in his face though, every time.
He wasn't meant to be part of Tony's life like this. He was just some kid who hitchhiked on the wrong trip and guilted Tony into making him his problem.
"If you try any harder, you're gonna end up dead, Peter."
"Just go home Tony," the boy continued. "They need you, I don't."
It was another week before Tony came back to the city. He had surveillance on Peter most of the time, but the kid was smart, despite his haziness these days, and he could manage his way out of Tony's sight on most days. Spider-Man worked throughout the day and night, but on the occasion that Peter was at home, it never ended well.
Peter had come home a few hours before midnight, taking the small envelope out of his suit pocket and tossing it onto the bed. There was still half a glass of vodka on his bedside table and he reached over to gulp it down, along with the pills he shook out of the envelope. He sat on the edge of his bed for a while, slowing taking himself out of the blue and red suit, managing to shuffle himself into a pair of jeans and a hoodie.
The apartment was in complete darkness as he made his way into the kitchen. Months of dust had gathered on the couch, the dining table, and everywhere else Peter avoided. Anything that reminded him of May was untouched. But sometimes, even with the constant reminder of devastation, he forgot.
A lonely apple and a bottle of water remained in his fridge and Peter began to panic.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, his vision blurry, and he held onto the counter to stop himself swaying. He didn't have to do much to find May's number considering how many times he called it. It rang out, unsurprisingly, and Peter let out a long sigh.
"Hey May, uh, I think you forgot your lunch again," he explained. "But is okay, I c'n bring it to you, 'kay? I'll bring it now."
So that's where Tony found him. Sitting outside the hospital, just by the emergency bay, listing against one of the metal poles by the streetlights.
As soon as Peter saw the man walking toward him, he hung his head in shame and anger. Every time something happened, Tony was there. Again and again. No matter what he did.
"Why?" Peter groaned. "Why you here? I'm n't doin' anything wrong,"
It broke Tony's heart to hear the kid's voice so slurred and confused. Tony never, ever wanted Peter to go down this path. He knew the grief and the anger pushed him down it, but there's not a single day that Tony wishes he could have done more to prevent this.
"I know you're not, you're okay," Tony soothed, reaching out to put his arm around the boy, holding him up. "Let's just get in the car,"
"No, I gotta..." Peter began, lifting the small brown paper bag in his hand. "She forgot it."
Tony looked back at Peter sadly, his eyes stinging.
"She's not here, Pete. You know that."
"She forgot her apple. They won' let me in," he grumbled. "Called security,"
Tony knew that already. Security had called him, after all. He was Peter's emergency contact after May. The hospital knew May and Peter well, and they knew he wasn't here to harm anyone or cause a scene. But it was very obvious that he was wasted, and this wasn't the first time he had come by looking for his aunt.
"She's not in there, Pete. Come on, we can talk in the car,"
"I don't want to get in the car," Peter shook his head. "Just...just stop, okay? Stop. I just want you to stop."
Tony nodded, silencing himself. Peter was on the verge of breakdown now, and Tony knew he was going to crash at any moment. His senses were all over the place, rightfully so. Sometimes he didn't know where he was. Or, he knew exactly where he was and had no idea why. Always looking for people who were no longer there.
"Can you jus' leave me alone?" Peter asked softly, his voice shaking, almost in tears.
"I can't do that, kiddo," Tony sighed. "Like it or not, I'm always gonna be here for you. I want to help, Peter. Please let me help."
"No, no, no," Peter sobbed, kneeling down. "You can't help me, Tony."
"I can, Pete. You don't have to be alone. You don't have to stay here."
"I can't leave 'em," the boy cried. "I can't leave. All of them. They're s'posed to be here."
"I know. I know they're meant to be here. If I could bring them all back, I would. I'd do anything to fix this."
"It should have been me. I should have gone. Everything would be okay if it took me instead."
Tony moved closer, pulling Peter against his chest.
"I wouldn't be okay. Not without you."
"You would be," Peter assured. "You're never at home anyway. You're always here with me, always...seeing me like this. I don't want you to keep seeing me like this."
"I don't like seeing you like this either. But not because it's a hardship to be here. It's because it kills me to see you hurting yourself. To see you drinking, to see you high, passing out in the street or getting beat up."
Peter continued to cry, his body shaking.
"I want to go home."
"Come with me, then. We'll get you some dinner, you can sit by the fire and take a nap-"
"No, my home."
Tony sighed.
"There's no food in your home. No clean clothes. No clean bed. Let me take care of you, okay? Just for the night. I'll bring you back tomorrow, I promise,"
Peter rubbed at his eyes, taking a few deep breaths. Tony thought he was making progress when Peter stood up, brushing himself off. But when Tony started walking them both toward the car, Peter made it clear he wasn't getting in.
"I uh, I'm meant to be meeting a friend," Peter shook his head, trying to pull his emotions back.
Tony knew that Peter had no friends. Not right now, anyway. None that he would be spending time with.
"It's almost midnight," Tony shook his head. "Your friend will understand."
"His mom made dinner for me," Peter lied. "I'll go home and eat."
Tony knew it was bullshit. Peter was doing everything he could to get out of having to face Tony sober. He knew that was the plan, after all. By morning Peter would be making more sense and Tony would make him talk about everything. He wasn't ready for that.
"I'll drive you to your friend," Tony countered. "Then I'll take you home."
"No, no, I can walk," Peter insisted.
"You can't walk in a straight line, I'm not letting you walk,"
"I got here just fine," the boy argued.
They stared at each other for another moment before Peter began biting down on his lip, holding back his words. Tony could tell, too. The kid always had a nervous twitch when he wanted to say something but just couldn't.
"What do you need, Peter? I'm here to help."
Another few beats, and Peter spoke.
"I...I could use j-just a little bit of cash, if you have any," he whined, physically pained that he asked. "I have money. I left it at home, and I n-need some things on the way back."
"What do you need? I'll get it for you," Tony assured.
"I can get it," Peter shook his head. "I'll stop by the bodega,"
Tony eyed him warily.
"Peter, I'll get you anything you need, but I can't give you any cash," he sighed.
"I shouldn't have asked," Peter groaned. "It's fine, Tony. I'm fine."
"No, if you need something, tell me. I'll do an entire grocery shop at midnight if that's what you need,"
"I just need cash," the teenager shook his head. "That's all I need."
"For what?"
Peter rolled his eyes, rubbing them once again. They were red enough, but after crying Peter looked worse than Tony had ever seen him. Bony, pale, purpled by bruises, eyes red with exhaustion and abuse.
"Never mind," he laughed, shrugging his shoulders. "I'll just eat this apple, huh? May doesn't need it, after all. It's all rotten now anyway, just like me, right?"
Tony couldn't take this.
"Peter..."
"Next time you get some sort of alert about me, you should do yourself a favour and ignore it. The way you look at me...I can't see it anymore. I know I'm fucking up. I know I'm doing everything wrong. So please stop coming to save me. Let me go, Tony. It's better this way."
Tony could feel his chest tightening at Peter's words and before he could say anything in return, Peter was gone. Tony watched him stumble away hurriedly before he swung up onto the roof of a nearby building, disappearing into the night, once again. These days, Peter was riskier than ever with his identity.
Turning toward the car, Tony made his way over as if he was sleepwalking. Nothing around him was registering. It felt like someone had reached inside, grabbed his soul, and ripped it out. Sitting behind the wheel, Tony slammed the door closed and felt bile rising up in his throat. He fought it off though, but a wave of tears hit him next.
Peter was disappearing before his eyes. He was going to be dead by the end of the month, he just knew it. May trusted him with Peter and he was destroying that trust every single day. Peter was as close to a son as Tony could comprehend. He was his child in every way that mattered, yet he couldn't bring himself to save him. To forcibly take Peter from his home, away from the city he grew up in, when he had no right. But the need to tow the line was taking it's toll, and Tony knew that he needed to step it up.
Let me go, Tony.
Maybe he would cross a line or two. Maybe he would make Peter hate him for the rest of his life. But at least he would be alive.
Peter couldn't remember coming in through the door last night, but he knew he was at home. The room was swirling when he opened his eyes, but he could hear someone else in the apartment. Panic surged through him and he sat up fast, swaying on his knees as he tried to stand.
"Hey!" he called out. "I'm a-armed!"
"No, you're not," Tony called back. "You hate guns."
Peter groaned, falling back down to the ground. He had passed out on the living room floor, it seems. He was still in his jeans and hoodie, now dirtied from his journey back home over the rooftops of Queens.
"Shit," he whined, pushing his face down into the carpet. "Why're you here?"
If he looked up, he would have seen Tony walking from room to room, filling two duffle bags with Peter's things. Anything essential. Anything that would get him by for a week or so outside of the city. Instead, he just focused on evening out his breathing and trying not to throw up.
Tony tried to ignore the collection of cans and liquor bottles around the apartment, along with empty little baggies and torn envelopes. There was some white powder on the living room table that he managed to wipe up before Peter could realise, too.
"Come on, we're going to get you some food," Tony announced, walking over to stand by the whining teen.
As much as Peter didn't want to respond, he couldn't deny the aching hunger in his stomach. He couldn't remember the last time he ate. There was no point pretending that Peter actually had a meal from his friend last night, Tony never bought that lie in the first place. As he pushed himself up from the floor, he could hear Tony talking to someone at the door, telling them to take things down to the car.
"What the hell?" he slurred, rubbing his eyes. "Who's that?"
"Happy's driving us," Tony explained. "Come on. Do you want a shower first?'
Peter shook his head. He was too hungry to waste time showering. He probably needed one, though.
"Alright. Let's go."
"You know, I can feed myself," Peter reminded. "
"I know you can. But you don't."
Another grumble and the boy was following him out the door. He reached into his jacket pocket, making sure he could feel the small foil ball in there, easing his nerves. Tony didn't say a word as they walked downstairs, hoping that this next part wasn't too traumatising for either of them.
For weeks now, Peter's spidey-sense had been almost rendered useless. He couldn't pick up on signs of danger anymore, at least not as easily as before. He had no warning when something was about to happen which resulted in him becoming bloodied and bruised on most of his patrol nights. But today it was going to end in him being forced to end all of this. To get better.
When they reached the street outside, Peter could see Happy waiting outside the car, his arms folded and his face focused and serious. It only took another step before Peter felt something sharp digging into the side of his neck, stinging for only a second before his vision blurred and his whole body went slack.
Rhodey appeared at his side, emptying the syringe, and helping Tony haul the kid into the backseat of the car.
"Easy, easy," Tony warned, helping Peter lay his head down on the seat, ignoring the ache in his chest at how much lighter the boy felt than he used to.
"He might be weaker now but we still don't know how long that'll keep him out," Rhodey reminded.
"You've got more if we need it, right?" Happy asked.
"I don't want to dose him up too much," Tony sighed, moving to slide himself in next to Peter. "But I'd rather he didn't punch his way out of the door on the highway."
"I've got more, and I can just top up the dose if he starting coming to," Rhodey assured, shutting the door behind him as he got in next to Happy. "Let's just hope traffic isn't bad."
They all remained in silence as they pulled away from the curb. Traffic wouldn't be problem, but none of them were used to that yet. With half of the city now gone, traffic was hardly ever a problem anymore.
As much as Tony prepared and expected the response he was getting, he couldn't help collapsing under the toll it was taking. It had only been a day since Peter was brought to the compound upstate and everything in his system was still working its way out of him. Despite his high metabolism, Peter was not spared the ugly reality of withdrawal. Neither was Tony.
"I would never do this to you," Peter cried, balled up on the floor sweating and shaking. "Why are you doing this to me?"
Tony was on the other side of the door, his back against the wall as he listened to Peter's sobs. The tall glass window beside him was the only thing between him and the boy, reinforced to withstand the strength of the Hulk himself. It wasn't easy to make the decision to bring Peter here. Tony wanted him at the lakehouse, in a comfortable home, surrounded by the people who loved him. But it was too risky while Peter was coming down.
The kid had strength none of them could match without a suit or reinforcements. Instead, they were stationed in one of the separate units of the compound, waiting out the worst of it. As soon as Peter was clean and sober, the next stage of his recovery could begin. But there was no reasoning with him right now.
Tony only allowed Rhodey and Happy to be around. They were the only ones left, anyway. Bruce was working away, busying himself with helping the world rebuild, and the others kept their distance. Things weren't exactly friendly yet between Tony and Steve, but he and Natasha had a good mutual understanding. They would always be there to help, but it would never be like it once was. Tony also just couldn't stand the thought of the others being around Peter when he was this vulnerable.
Peter was his kid to protect, and he would do anything to get him back.
"You know why I'm doing this, Pete," Tony explained. "We can talk about it when you feel better."
"You've got me locked in a fucking cage like an animal! You have no right!" the boy screamed. "Ughhhhh, I f-feel like I'm on fire! Please, please, please, please!"
Tony closed his eyes, shaking his head, trying to control his emotions.
"Keep drinking the water, Pete-"
"Fuck you! Fuck you! I hate you!" he continued. "I'm not drinking the water! You're killing me!"
It was the withdrawal talking, but it didn't hurt any less.
"I'm trying to save you."
"I don't want it," Peter cried, miserable and exhausted.
Tony turned to look through the window, watching as Peter threw up into the trash once again. His clothes were dark with sweat and his skin was glistening with it. His hair was matted and messed, and he looked a few shades paler than Tony remembered from just an hour ago.
"You're gonna get through this, okay? I promise this won't last. I promise."
"I don't believe you," Peter shook his head, looking over to him, eyes glassy. "I don't believe a word you say. If you c-cared about me you wouldn't make me do this."
His whole body was twitching, fighting off convulsions.
"I'm not gonna watch you die. I won't let that happen," Tony assured.
"No one asked you to watch."
"I made a promise to May, you know that,"
Peter laughed then, pulling himself up to stand, swaying on his legs.
"You know, every time you use that line, it loses more and more meaning to me. You're the one that's always reminding me she's gone. She's gone. She's dead! She doesn't give a fuck if you keep your promise, she's never gonna know anyway!" he yelled, moving closer to the window between them. "Look at you, Tony. Why do you give a shit? You've got your best friend, you've got your wife and your baby, and yet you're sitting here watching me like I'm a freak of nature."
Tony swallowed, keeping himself calm.
"You're not a freak. You're in pain, you're hurting, and I won't leave you,"
"I wish you would. Do you know that? Every single day I wish you wouldn't be here. I wish you didn't know me. I wish you would just leave me alone."
"Takes a lot to get rid of me, kid," Tony bit back.
Peter took that moment to throw his fist into the window. Of course, it didn't break. But Peter's knuckles busted against the glass, spattering blood in front of Tony's face, smeared along the window right in front of him.
"Fuck, Peter! Jesus, stop it!" Tony barked, jumping to his feet.
"What, you want to come in?" Peter countered "Wanna come and bandage me up? Patch up the little broken boy like I'm a fucking lab project?"
Tony stared back at him, jaw twitching.
"Let me out," Peter pleaded. "And I'll just leave. I won't cause a scene, I promise. Just let me go."
"No,"
Peter's eyes turned angrier.
"Let me the fuck out, Tony!"
"No," the man shrugged. "Not until all that shit is out of your system."
"You want it all out of me?" Peter chuckled, reaching into his pocket, but finding nothing.
"How many times are you gonna do that?" Tony asked. "You've got nothing on you, kid. We already went through this."
This was the third time Peter tried looking for the drugs he stashed in his pocket the day before. His memories were all blurring. It had taken both Rhodey and Tony holding him down, kicking and screaming, to get the foil pall out of his hand and thrown from the room. The door had been locked since.
Peter groaned, holding his fist close to his chest, willing his healing to kick in. His knuckles were tingling now but his anger didn't let him focus on the pain. All he could think about was getting out of this glass room, getting away from this whole situation.
"What would you do?" Peter asked, collapsing back down onto the ground, kicking his legs out in front of him as he stared back at them, shivering. "If you lost everyone, I...I mean everyone, Tony. What would you do?"
Tony folded his arms, shaking his head.
"You haven't lost everyone, Pete. I'm still here, kid. I'm not going anywhere."
"What would you do?" he asked again, ignoring Tony's words. "Look at me and tell me you wouldn't do the same thing."
Tony stared back at him. Truthfully, he probably would have done worse. If he came back to a world without Pepper, without Happy, without Rhodey, without everyone he ever loved, he just wouldn't be able to go on. Along with Peter, they were his reason for living. His family meant everything to him.
He had thought about this so many times. Whenever he tried to put himself in Peter's shoes, to look at things from his perspective, he heart could barely take it.
"You would, wouldn't you?" Peter probed again. "You're a hypocrite."
"I know I am," Tony shrugged. "But that doesn't change a thing."
Peter laughed, pulling his knees up to his chest as he shook where sat. He couldn't stop sweating, and now his whole body was starting to itch.
"What's the plan when I'm all pure and drug-free, huh?" he asked. "Do I get a day pass for the fucking corridor?"
"Guess you'll have to wait and see,"
"Can't wait," he muttered. "Not like I'm dying in here or anything,"
"You're not dying in there, you're going through withdrawal-"
"Because you won't give me anything!" the boy snapped. "You're s-supposed to wean people off medications, you know?"
"Oh, is that what we're calling it? Medication?"
Peter was silent after that. His body was shaking and he needed to lay still to stave off the need to throw up. It almost worked, too. Half an hour passed before Peter threw up all over himself. His shirt was ruined, completely soaked, and he clawed it off himself while crying, throwing it into the trash. Tony closed his eyes and he resumed his spot on the floor, willing away his own aching stomach.
He never wanted to see Peter like this. Never wanted to hear him cry so desperately, so painfully.
Another hour passed before Peter's muffled voice broke the silence again.
"She's gonna grow up without you," he groaned, face pressed against the cool tile floor. "Go back to her, Tony. Stop being here."
"She won't," Tony argued immediately. "I see her every day. The only person missing is you, kid."
"You waste all of your time on me," he cried. "I'm not worth it. I'm not, I promise."
Tony felt his eyes welling with tears.
"I think you are, Pete. I know you are,"