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My lip quivers as I take a seat on my bed. In all honesty, today has been a very shitty day. There's not even a particular reason why, I'm just so damn dysphoric. There's nothing that triggered it either, it's just... there. Gnawing away at my sanity like a dog with a bone. And to make matters worse, I'm grounded. Which, I admit, is very much my own fault. I stayed out after my curfew three nights in a row when I was out patrolling. My bad, I know. However, being grounded for me doesn't just mean I don't get to patrol, it also means no lab time with Mr. Stark. Which is annoying because I love lab time, but today, it's not just annoying, it’s isolating. On days like today, being in the lab and being with Mr. Stark, allows me to just forget about my stupid gender for awhile. I can just exist and be okay. I can't even talk to May about how I'm feeling right now, because she's at work until 6 a.m. tomorrow.
And sure, I could sneak out and patrol anyways, but unfortunately for me, Mr. Stark installed a home security system in our apartment that sends notifications to May's phone every time someone leaves or enters the apartment. That means that May would inevitably find out about me sneaking out, which would only prolong my period of being grounded.
So... I'm stuck. Alone. All alone.
I use the sleeve of my hoodie—my dysphoria hoodie, obviously—to wipe away the pool of tears that's collected at my jawline. It's only then that I realize I've been crying.
God, I just want a hug. I don't want to feel like this anymore. Why do I still feel like this? I have support. I don't have to deal with transphobic parents/guardians, unlike a lot of other trans kids. I didn't lose any friends when I came out. I didn't lose anything because I'm trans. I have a supportive parental figures who make sure I have access to binders and a billionaire mentor who's going to pay for my top surgery once I'm old enough to get it.
So why do I still feel like this?
A gut-wrenching sob escapes my throat against my will. I collapse onto my bed and hold a pillow to my face to muffle my cries. I can feel the fabric of the pillowcase soaking up my tears, and I briefly wonder if I've produced enough tears in the past week to soak up the entire pillow. I wouldn't be surprised if I have. I cry a lot. Like a girl, screams a voice in my head. Only a girl would cry as much as you do. That's because you are one, you little sissy. You aren’t fooling anyone. My cries get more violent at that, despite me logically knowing that it's not true and that I am a boy and that everyone cries despite their gender. But no matter how much I try to tell myself that, the voice just keeps getting louder and louder, and I don't know how to stop it. The silence around me only amplifies it's cruel words. A few moments later, in an act of mercy from the universe, my phone suddenly starts ringing, breaking the silence and cutting off the voice.
I grab the device off of my nightstand, Mr. Stark's contact lighting up the screen. I hurriedly sniffle and dry my tears, swallowing down the unrelenting lump in my throat, and clearing it before hitting the answer button.
"Burgers or tacos?"
"Um, what?" My voice is a little raspy and I hope the man doesn’t notice.
"May told me she's working a double shift today so she asked me if I could bring you dinner. Soooo, burgers or tacos? I can’t choose, so you pick."
I'm about to tell Mr. Stark not to come here at all, and that I'm totally fine and he can go back to the tower. But then I realize that if I push him away I'm going to be alone. And if I'm alone, then the voice will come back. And seeing as the voice makes me literally wish I was dead, I decide to stop pushing the man away and let him in. "Uh, I guess tacos are okay."
"Tacos it is. You doing alright there, Bud?" I hear a hint of concern in my mentor's voice and I internally curse at myself. There's no fooling him.
Regardless, I muster up as much normalcy as I can before answering, hoping he'll leave it for now. "Yeah, I'm good. Just tired."
There's nothing but silence on the other end of the line for a few moments. "Okay. You stay put, Kiddie, I'll be there in a few."
"See you then." Mr. Stark hangs up the phone at that. I lay back down, letting out a sigh of pure exhaustion. Once again, there's nothing but silence around me, and before I know it, the voice comes back, louder than before. The tears fall faster and the cries emerge more violent than ever. It's a never ending assault on my mind, and I can't stop it.
"Peter?!" Mr. Stark's voice comes through, breaking the silence once more. The voice quiets and I let out a relieved sob as I remove the pillow from my face. I meet his panicked gaze and guilt bubbles up in my chest at being the reason for his distress.
"Oh, Kiddo..." Mr. Stark kneels on the ground at the edge of my bed and reaches a hand out, running his fingers through my hair. "What happened? Talk to me," he prompts, wiping away the lingering moisture on my cheeks with his thumbs, cradling my face with care.
"I don't- I can't," I gasp out, unable to form a coherent sentence.
"Okay, okay." He rises up to sit on the edge of the mattress. He slowly guides me to sit up and pulls me into his arms. And all I can do is cry. "I'm here, baby. Let it all out, I'm not going anywhere," he reassures me, rubbing my back and holding me close to his chest, his grip on my frame gentle yet firm and protective.
"The v-voices in my head are s-s-so loud!" I wail into his chest. "And I was all alone and th-there was no one here to drown them out. Being in the lab w-with you makes it quiet, but I-I'm grounded so I couldn't c-come see you." My cries pick up after that, and Mr. Stark shushes me, pressing a few kisses to my temple.
"I'm sorry, sweetheart. I'm here now, alright? I'm right here." He rocks me back and forth in his arms and my cries eventually die down.
Once I'm feeling a little better, no longer sobbing, I apologize. "I'm sorry for freaking you out."
"Don't be sorry, Pete. I'm sorry I wasn't here sooner. You know you can always call me if you're not feeling good, right? It doesn't matter if you're grounded, your health, physical and mental, always comes first. I'll always be there if you need me, Kid. But I can't be here if you don't call me, y'know?"
I nod. "Yeah, I know," With a sigh, I scrub at my face. "I just feel guilty for always dumping all my problems onto you all the time."
Mr. Stark shakes his head with a frown. "Buddy, I want you to dump your problems onto me. I want to be there for you."
I look up at him with glassy eyes. "Why? I'm just some random kid."
"You're not a random kid, Pete. You're my kid." My head snaps up to his features, surprised. I study him, searching for any hints of pity. But all I can see in his expression is... love. "I don't care if we're not related by blood, you're my kid, and you always will be. You've had me wrapped around your finger for longer than I'd like to admit." He chuckles, placing a calloused hand on my shoulder. "I love you, and I want to be there for you. But you've gotta let me, alright? If you're in trouble, you call me, got it?"
I smile, the man's words warming my heart to an extent I didn't think was possible. "Got it."
He nods, seemingly satisfied with my answer. "Well, there are ten tacos in the kitchen with our names on them, what d'ya say we turn on the TV and eat our asses off?"
Wrapping my arms around the man, feeling content and safe, I agree. "Hell yeah." He hugs me back, and I couldn't feel happier.