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Peter stares at his reflection in the metal elevator at the Compound, his black eye standing out like a sore thumb against his pale skin. He breathes out a sigh and closes his eyes, trying to ignore the dull throbbing that settled behind his eyes a while ago, hoping it’s not going to build up to a migraine.
There’s no way he’s going to be able to hide this from Tony unless he just hid in his room for the rest of the evening. There’s no telling if it will even be healed by tomorrow morning. He just can’t hide out in his room all weekend. Besides, it would draw up suspicion.
Or maybe he can wear a pair of dark sunglasses? Tony wears them all the time as a “fashion statement,” as he likes to call it. No… that would draw up suspicion too.
When the elevator doors slide open once he’s on his and Tony’s floor, Peter cautiously steps out and looks around the large space for any sign of the man.
“Hey, FRIDAY? Where’s Tony?” He asks.
“Boss is currently in his home office on the phone with Miss Potts. Shall I get him for you?”
“No!” Peter rushes out. “Uh, I mean no. I’m okay. Thanks anyway.” He says, more calmly.
“Certainly.”
Peter breathes out a tired sigh as he drops his backpack and makes his way over to the kitchen. He opens the refrigerator and grabs a bottle of water and a slice of leftover pizza for a snack, as well as an icepack from the freezer.
After heating up his pizza in the microwave, Peter heads down the hallway towards his room, quickly walking by Tony’s office, hearing him talking on the phone. Once he’s in his bedroom with the door closed, Peter lets out a relieved sigh as he makes his way over to his desk by his bed and puts his pizza and water down. He pulls the ice pack out of his hoodie pocket and gingerly places it on his eye with a hiss of pain from the spark of pain it brings.
“Ouch,” Peter groans out, closing his eyes as he sits down.
He stays there for several minutes, trying to ignore the dull throbbing from his eye and his ever-growing headache. He picks his piece of pizza up with his free hand and takes a few bites, hoping it will help take his mind off his eye.
Pizza makes everything better.
A knock suddenly comes at his door when he’s finished eating. “Pete, can I come in?” Tony asks from the other side, sounding pretty upbeat.
Peter’s eyes widen in surprise, letting out a small hiss when his bruised eye twinges painfully. He knows he can’t hide this from Tony, no matter how hard he tries. Tony has this weird dad sense, so he always finds out about things Peter tries to hide from him. There’s no point in delaying the inevitable.
Peter lets out a small sigh as his shoulders drop, bringing the ice pack back up to his aching eye. “Come in.” he calls out.
Tony opens the door and steps through with a smile, only for it to drop when he sees him. “What happened to your face?” He asks with a worried frown as he steps in the room.
“Uhm… well…” Peter stammers out, trying to come up with an excuse as Tony walks over to him.
“Did this happen on patrol last night? I didn’t see this this morning when you left for school.” Tony says with a frown as he gently grasps Peter’s chin and turns his head as he inspects his black eye.
Peter’s chest tightens at the question. He wants to tell Tony the truth… but he’s honestly a little nervous to. Not just because of the fact he knows Tony would go to great lengths to defend him but it's just… Peter’s scared.
“N-No… it didn’t happen on patrol.” Peter answers finally as he looks at the wall past Tony’s head so he doesn’t have to make eye contact.
Tony’s frown deepens. “When did it happen then? You didn’t cut class again to patrol, did you?”
Peter shakes his head as he nervously bites the inside of his cheek, continuing to stare at his Star Wars poster on the wall as his stomach tightens with nerves.
“Pete?” Tony prompts.
Peter meets his worried eyes for a few seconds, only for his shoulders to slump as he breathes out a sigh.
He has to tell him.
Just rip the bandaid off and everything will be fine.
He’s got this.
“I didn’t cut class. I was in school when I got it.”
Tony’s face hardens as his eyes darken with anger. “Who did this to you?” He demands as he lets go of Peter’s chin. “If it’s that Flash kid again, I swear-”
“N-No! It wasn’t him. Flash and I are cool--we’re friends now,” Peter says, shaking his head. “I-It was nothing, really.”
“Pete,” Tony says as he closes his eyes and lets out a sigh, like he’s trying to calm himself before he opens his eyes again and looks at him. “Someone hit you and it's definitely not nothing. Tell me who hit you.”
Peter bites his lip nervously as he thinks back to the fight at school, remembering the bully’s mean taunts that spewed out of his mouth. The thought of it makes his eyes burn, and to his horror--tears start to build up in his eyes. He looks down at the icepack on his desk, hoping Tony doesn’t notice.
But of course, he does.
“Pete?” Tony says, his tone softer now as he reaches a hand out and gently lifts Peter’s chin so he’s looking at him, only to meet Tony’s concerned eyes. “You know you can talk to me, right? If you’re having issues with someone at school… you can tell me. I want to help you, Pete. I hate seeing you like this.” He tells him.
Peter’s lower lip wobbles as he closes his eyes, a few tears escaping and sliding down his cheeks as he shakes his head. “I can’t,” he whispers.
He feels so tiny and weak.
He’s Spider-Man for goodness sakes, yet he’s afraid of a school bully.
How pathetic.
“Oh, Pete,” Tony softly says as he feels warm arms embrace him.
Peter squeezes his eyes further shut as he stuffs his head against Tony’s chest as a weak sob escapes him.
“Please tell me what’s going on, bud. I can’t help you if you won’t let me.” Tony says in a pleading voice as he rubs Peter’s back in soothing circles.
Peter shakes his head against his chest. “I-I c-can’t,” he breathes out.
“Of course you can, Pete.”
Peter shakes his head more. “I-I can’t,” he repeats more firmly as he sucks in a shaky breath as he pulls away from Tony. “Y-You don’t get it. I-If I tattle on him, h-he’s going to get worse and he’s going to hurt more people. A-And I can’t let him.”
Tony braces his hands on Peter’s shoulders. “And I won’t let him. I promise you, Peter. Whoever this kid is, I’ll make sure that he’s taken care of. Just please tell me what’s going on, kiddo. I promise you that I won’t call your school until you and I talk about this.”
Peter sniffs as he wipes at his uninjured eye, wincing as his hoodie sleeve brushes up against his throbbing black eye. He sucks in a shaky breath, trying to get ahold of himself. “H-His name’s Aiden.”
“The kid that hit you?”
Peter nods, swallowing hard. “H-He’s been bothering the kids around school these past few weeks, but… m-mostly Ned. H-He calls him mean names and Ned tries to just ignore him but today… Aiden got a little… rough. He cornered us in the locker room and he tried to shove Ned but I got in between them and tried to stop him.”
“And that’s when he hit you?”
“Yeah.” Peter admits, nervously bunching up the bottom of his sleeves in his fists. “H-He hasn’t been that rough like that before.”
“Is Ned alright?” Tony asks.
Peter nods. “Y-Yeah… he was a little shaken up.”
“I’m sorry you guys have been going through this. But, Pete,” Tony says as he tightens his grip on Peter’s shoulder reassuringly, meeting his eyes. “I’m going to take care of this and that jerk isn’t going to bother you guys anymore. I’ll make sure of it. I’m going to call the school and I’m going to sort this out with Mr. Morita.”
Peter sniffs wetly as he nods in agreement, relief flowing through him. “O-Okay.”
Tony offers him a small, reassuring sigh as he pulls Peter forward in another hug.
Peter closes his eyes as he inhales Tony’s familiar and comforting scent.
“M’ sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.” Peter mumbles into Tony’s chest. “I just… I didn’t know what to do.”
“It’s okay. But whatever you’re going through, and I mean whatever, you can talk to me about it, Pete. I’m here for you and it’s my job to protect you.” Tony tells him, his voice rumbling in his chest against Peter’s ear.
“I know.” Peter says, managing a small smile at that.
When Tony pulls away, he lightly brushes a finger over the edge of the bruise, only for Peter to let out a hiss of pain. Tony winces in sympathy. “How about we get you a new ice pack for your eye and some ice cream to cheer you up, hmm?” He asks with a forced-looking smile.
Peter smiles in return, ignoring the way it stretches at his eye, sending a spark of pain through his face. “That sounds pretty good right about now.”