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Chapter Text

Peter Parker woke up with a start, his senses tingling with a heightened awareness that seemed to pulse through his entire being. As he blinked away the remnants of sleep, he realized that today was different. Today, his senses were on high alert, every sound, smell, and sensation magnified to an almost overwhelming degree. But Peter was used to this. Ever since the spider bite and living with autism meant that his senses were always a bit sharper, a bit more intense than those of others. And today, they were particularly sensitive.

As Peter swung out of bed, his mind already racing with the possibilities of the day, he couldn't shake the feeling of unease that lingered at the edge of his thoughts. His heightened senses, while a gift in many situations, also made him acutely aware of the nuances of his environment, including the subtle shifts in people's behavior and the underlying tension in the city. With his added sensory issues on top of that, these days never ended well.

"Morning, Aunt May," Peter greeted as he entered the kitchen, where May was preparing breakfast.

"Good morning, Peter. How are you feeling today?" May asked, her warm smile masking her concern.

Peter hesitated for a moment, the weight of his heightened senses pressing down on him. "I... I'm not sure, Aunt May. Something just feels off. Not a good day sensory-wise. "

May paused, "I'm sorry, Pete. I know how hard some days can be. Just take it one step at a time, okay?"

Peter nodded, grateful for May's understanding. "Thanks, Aunt May. I'll try."

With a reassuring smile, May continued with breakfast, silently vowing to keep a close eye on Peter throughout the day.

As Peter made his way to school, the bustling subway station felt like a cacophony of sensory overload. Every screech of brakes, every murmur of conversation, seemed amplified to an unbearable level. The harsh fluorescent lights flickered overhead, casting disjointed shadows that danced across the walls.

His fellow commuters jostled past him, each brush of their shoulders sending a jolt of discomfort through his hypersensitive nerves. The cacophony of footsteps echoed in his ears, the mingling scents of perfume, sweat, and city grime assaulting his nostrils.

With each passing moment, Peter's anxiety mounted, a tight coil of tension knotting in his chest. He tried to focus on his breathing, to block out the overwhelming stimuli, but it was like trying to hold back a tidal wave with his bare hands.

As the train rumbled into the station, Peter squeezed his eyes shut, willing himself to find some semblance of calm amidst the chaos. But deep down, he knew that today was going to be a struggle unlike any other until finally, he made it to Midtown.

He quickly makes it inside and spots Michele and Ned across the hallways and makes his way to them,

"Hey, Peter, you okay?" MJ's concerned voice cut through the clamor of the crowded hallway as Peter approached their usual meeting spot.

Peter forced a smile, though it felt more like a grimace on his tense features. "Yeah, just... a little off today, I guess."

Ned furrowed his brow, his gaze flickering over Peter's pale complexion and the tightness around his eyes. "You don't look so good, man. Maybe you should go home and rest."

Peter shook his head, his shoulders sagging under the weight of his anxiety. "I can't, guys. I promised Mr. Stark I'd meet him at the tower after school. It's important."

MJ exchanged a worried glance with Ned before turning back to Peter, her expression softened with empathy. "Peter, your health comes first. Mr. Stark will understand if you need to take care of yourself and take a day off.”

Peter hesitated, torn between his sense of duty and the overwhelming need to retreat from the world. "I know, but... I can't let him down. Not again. It’ll be fine. Nothing I haven’t handled before. Just everything seems to be dialed to 100 over the usual 11 today."

MJ exchanged a knowing look with Ned before speaking softly. "Peter, maybe it's time to tell Mr. Stark about your autism. He's not like everyone else. He'll understand and he'll want to help you."

Peter's heart clenched at the suggestion, his mind instantly conjuring worst-case scenarios. "No, I can't... I can't tell him. He'll... he'll react badly, just like everyone else does."

Ned shook his head, his voice firm. "Peter, Mr. Stark has always had your back. He's not going to judge you. And if anything, knowing about your autism might help him understand you better."

Peter chewed on his bottom lip, torn between the fear of rejection and the longing for acceptance. "I... I'll think about it, okay? But for now, let's just focus on getting through the day."

MJ nodded, her expression filled with unwavering support. "Okay, Peter. But remember, you don't have to face this alone. We're here for you, no matter what."

With that, the bell rang and they split up to go to their classes.

Chapter Text

Throughout the day, Peter struggled to maintain his composure, his senses bombarding him with a relentless barrage of stimuli. In class, the squeaks of sneakers on linoleum floors grated against his nerves, each sound like a tiny needle piercing his eardrums. The fluorescent lights hummed overhead, their incessant buzzing reverberating through his skull like a persistent drone.

Desperately, Peter tried to distract himself, focusing on the rhythmic tapping of his pencil against his notebook or the soft fabric of his shirt beneath his fingers. He knew that stimming helped to regulate his senses, and was praying just the tapping would be enough to subdue it.

But despite his efforts, the mounting pressure threatened to overwhelm him at any moment. He could feel the tension coiling tighter and tighter, a knot of anxiety threatening to unravel into a full-blown meltdown.

With every ounce of strength he could muster, Peter pushed back the rising tide of panic, refusing to succumb to the overwhelming flood of sensations. He knew that he couldn't afford to lose control, not now, not when there was so much at stake.

As he was getting lost in his thoughts, the bell rang again, signaling his last class of the day, and he held up his hands to his ears to try to block out the sound. He stayed like this for a bit until the sound subdued. He took his hand off his ears and gathered his bags and made his way out the door.

Standing out there was MJ, who saw the whole thing.

Peter felt a wave of relief wash over him as he stepped out of the classroom, the pressure in his head easing slightly as the bell's shrill ring faded into the background. But his moment of respite was short-lived as he found MJ waiting for him, her keen eyes catching every nuance of his struggle.

"Not getting any better?" MJ's voice was laced with concern, her gaze searching his face for any sign of reassurance.

Peter shook his head, his voice barely above a whisper. "No, worse I think."

“Peter you have to go home there’s no way you can go to Stark’s afterward”

Before he could say more, a mocking voice cut through the air like a knife. "Stark? You're still lying about that internship? Give it up, man. No one believes it's real."

Peter's blood ran cold as he turned to see Flash sneering at him, a cruel smirk twisting his features. The words struck like a physical blow, each syllable a dagger aimed straight at Peter's heart.

"And plus, why would Stark pick someone like you over me?" Flash continued, "A retarded freak with no family."

Peter's breath caught in his throat, his vision swimming with unshed tears as the weight of Flash's cruelty bore down on him. He could feel the familiar tendrils of panic clawing at the edges of his mind, threatening to drag him under.

But before he could succumb to the overwhelming onslaught, MJ stepped forward, her voice cold and unwavering. "Enough, Flash. You have no idea what you're talking about."

Flash bristled, his sneer faltering slightly at the steel in MJ's tone. "Oh yeah? And what's your excuse, Michelle? You think you're better than me too?"

MJ's jaw tightened, her gaze never wavering from Flash's. "I think Peter deserves a lot more respect than you're giving him. And if you can't see that, then maybe you're the one with the problem."

With that, MJ motioned for Peter to follow her, trying not to touch him or get too close because she knew that would spiral him into a full-blown meltdown.

“Okay if you’re gonna stick this out you just have to make it to one last class.”

To that, Peter just nods.

With a subtle motion, MJ gestured for Peter to follow her, careful not to intrude on his space. She knew too well how even the gentlest touch could send him spiraling.

"Okay, Pete, just one more class to go," she said softly, her voice a lifeline in the chaos.

Peter nodded silently, his eyes flickering with a mix of exhaustion and determination.

As they walked to their final class, MJ couldn't help but notice the strain etched into every line of Peter's face. He was trying so hard to hold it together, but she could see the cracks starting to form.

In the classroom, she guided him to an empty desk, her hand lingering on his shoulder for a moment before retreating. She watched as he sank into the seat, his body tense with the effort of keeping his emotions in check.

As the final bell rang, relief flooded through MJ. They had made it. She sent him a small, reassuring smile, seeing him covering his ears with his hands again trying to block out the sound of the bell.

Chapter Text

As the class progressed, Peter found himself surprisingly calm. The steady rhythm of the teacher's voice and the familiar routine of the lesson seemed to lull him into a sense of security. Nothing was setting him off, and for the first time all day, he felt himself starting to relax.

He listened intently, his mind focusing on the material at hand rather than the overwhelming stimuli bombarding his senses. The tension in his muscles began to ease, and the tight knot of anxiety in his chest slowly loosened its grip.

MJ watched him from across the room, a small smile playing at the corners of her lips. It seemed like Peter was finally finding his footing, straying further and further away from the brink of a meltdown with each passing minute.

“Just 30 more minutes Peter you can do it” he whispers to himself.

“Alright class, for the remaining time we will be going over last week's test.” The teacher says picking up a pile of tests from his desk. He starts to pass them out to the class but Peter couldn’t help but feel his spidey sense going haywire. Just as he was questioning it, the teacher came around to give Peter his test back.

"100%, very impressive, Peter. Best score in the class," the teacher remarked, placing the test on his desk with a congratulatory smile.

Peter felt a surge of pride at the praise, his chest swelling with a sense of accomplishment. But before he could respond, his spidey senses were screaming at him, every nerve in his body on high alert.

As the teacher placed a hand on his back to show his congratulations, Peter's world began to unravel. The sudden contact sent a jolt of panic coursing through him, his skin prickling with discomfort.

He tried to mask his distress, to push through the overwhelming flood of sensations threatening to engulf him. But it was too late. What was supposed to be a gesture of encouragement was just the final straw, the catalyst that sent Peter spiraling into the meltdown he had been desperately trying to avoid all day.

With a strangled cry, Peter pushed himself away from the desk, his hands shaking as he stumbled backward, causing the desk to be flipped in its side. His breath came in ragged gasps, his heart pounding in his chest like a jackhammer.

The classroom blurred around him, the walls closing in as the world tilted on its axis. And as the sounds of concern and confusion washed over him, Peter knew that he was losing the battle against his own mind, the darkness threatening to consume him whole.

Peter's wide-eyed gaze swept over his classmates, each face frozen in a mask of shock and concern. The weight of their collective stares bore down on him like a crushing weight, suffocating him with their silent judgment.

With a strangled cry, Peter bolted from his spot, his legs moving on pure instinct as he fled the suffocating confines of the classroom. His breath came in ragged gasps, each inhalation burning in his lungs as he fought to outrun the phantom touches.

The hallway stretched out before him like an endless maze, the harsh fluorescent lights blurring into a dizzying whirl of colors and shapes. He stumbled blindly forward, his vision swimming as the world spun around him in a chaotic frenzy.

Peter's heart hammered in his chest as he fled the classroom, his footsteps echoing loudly in the empty hallway. Panic clawed at his insides, urging him to find refuge from the overwhelming storm raging within him.

Without conscious thought, he veered into the nearest boys' bathroom, his trembling hands fumbling with the lock as he barricaded himself inside a stall. Collapsing onto the corner, he drew his knees to his chest, seeking solace in the relative safety of the confined space.

Alone in the silence of the bathroom, Peter allowed himself to finally release the pent-up emotions that had been simmering beneath the surface all day.

Peter sat huddled in the corner of the stall, his breaths coming in short, uneven gasps as tears streamed down his cheeks. The world outside felt like a distant echo, the chaos of the school day reduced to a muted background noise as he grappled with the overwhelming flood of emotions crashing over him.

His hands trembled as he brought them to his ears, pressing firmly against the sides of his head in a desperate attempt to block out the cacophony of sound threatening to engulf him. With each inhale, he let out a low, keening hum, the vibration reverberating through his body like a lifeline in the darkness.

Unable to contain the mounting pressure any longer, Peter began to rock back and forth, the rhythmic motion a familiar comfort in times of distress. His mind felt like a whirlwind of chaos, thoughts and sensations swirling together in a dizzying frenzy.

With a choked sob, he brought his hands together, fingers interlocking as he began to flap them rapidly against his thighs. The repetitive motion offered a fleeting sense of control, a way to channel the overwhelming surge of energy coursing through his veins.

MJ's footsteps echoed softly in the empty bathroom as she entered, her heart pounding with worry for her friend. "Peter?" she called out softly, her voice barely more than a whisper as she scanned the stalls.

Her breath caught in her throat as she spotted him huddled in the corner of one of the stalls, his shoulders shaking with silent sobs. Without hesitation, she hurried to his side, dropping to her knees beside him.

"Peter, it's me, MJ," she said gently, her voice laced with concern. "Are you okay?"

But Peter remained silent, his eyes squeezed shut as he continued to rock back and forth, lost in the grip of his own turmoil. His non-verbal state sent a pang of sadness coursing through MJ's chest, her mind racing as she searched for a way to reach him.

MJ’s heart sank as Peter remained unresponsive to her attempts to comfort him. “Pete I’m sorry I’ve never seen one this bad before I’m not sure what to do… wait, hey, stay right here I’ll be right back” With that Michelle promptly leaves Peter to run back to the classroom to grab his backpack, remembering he has headphones and stim toys in there.

“MJ, glad to see your back, but without Peter.” The teacher says to her and she re-enters the classroom, side-eyeing the teacher because he thinks his outburst was unnecessary.

MJ picks up Peter’s backpack and goes to leave the classroom again and the teacher stops her, “You kids can’t just leave my class room Willy nilly, especially after that outburst. I don’t know what’s going on with him but if you leave my classroom again you and Peter are both getting detentions”
“Well you better start writing those slips” she replied firmly before turning on her heel and striding out of the classroom.

Back in the bathroom, Peter still sat huddled in the stall, his distress palpable in the air. MJ approached him slowly, her heart aching at the sight of him rocking back and forth, his hands hitting his thighs in a desperate attempt to ground himself.

“Peter,” she said softly, kneeling beside him, “I’m going to place your headphones over your ears, okay? It might help block out some of the noise.”

Peter looked up at her with tear-filled eyes, nodding slightly as he allowed her to gently place the headphones over his ears. As MJ gently placed the headphones over Peter’s ears, she noticed him instinctively reaching up to adjust them, his hands trembling slightly as he pushed them closer to his ears. She watched him closely, her heart sinking as she saw his watch flashing red out of the corner of her eye.

“Peter, why is your watch flashing red?” MJ asked, her voice tinged with concern. But Peter remained non-verbal, his eyes distant as he continued to adjust the headphones.

Frowning, MJ followed his gaze to his wrist, her breath catching in her throat as she realized what he was doing. He was finger-spelling, his fingers forming the letters S-T-A-R-K.

"Do you want me to call him?" she asked softly, but Peter shook his head, his eyes pleading with her to understand.
"I'm not sure what you mean, Pete," MJ said gently, her mind racing as she tried to piece together his intentions. She glanced down at the watch, recalling that it was a gift from Mr. Stark himself.
"Did Mr. Stark give you this watch?" she asked, her voice tinged with realization. Peter nodded, his expression hopeful.
"And... is there an emergency alert installed on it?" MJ continued, her heart pounding as she waited for his response.
Peter nodded eagerly, relief flooding through him as MJ finally understood.

"Is the flashing... does that mean he's coming?" MJ asked, her voice trembling with anticipation as she met Peter's tear-filled eyes.
Peter nodded vigorously, relief washing over him as he wiped away his tears. With each passing moment, his hope soared higher, knowing that help was on the way.
As they waited, MJ's ears picked up faint chatter in the hallway, the sound of shoes squeaking against the linoleum floor growing louder with each passing second. And then, without warning, the bathroom doors burst open, and there stood Tony Stark himself, his expression a mix of concern and determination.
"Peter!" Tony's voice boomed through the room, filled with urgency as he spotted Peter huddled in the stall. Without hesitation, he rushed to his side, his hands gentle as he reached out to offer support.

As Tony moved to reach for Peter, MJ physically stepped in, blocking his path with a firm hand. "No, don't touch him," she said, her voice steady despite the tremble in her hands.
Tony's brow furrowed in confusion. "Why not? And who are you?" he asked, his tone tinged with impatience. "I've got a kid to worry about."
"I'm Michelle," MJ replied, meeting Tony's gaze head-on. "And right now, Peter needs space. He doesn't want to be touched."
Tony paused, his eyes flicking between MJ and Peter, a flicker of understanding crossing his features. With a nod, he backed away, giving Peter the distance he needed.
Slowly, Tony approached Peter, his movements cautious as he knelt beside him. "Hey, Peter, it's me, Tony," he said softly, his voice gentle. "Can you tell me what's going on?"
Peter looked up at Tony, his eyes red-rimmed and filled with unspoken anguish. For a moment, he hesitated, his mind racing with a whirlwind of emotions. Peter just shakes his head and puts his hands in his face.

Tony glanced at MJ, a look of confusion clouding his features. "What's happening here, Michelle?" he asked, his tone tinged with concern.
MJ hesitated for a moment, grappling with the weight of the situation. "It's not really my place to tell you," she replied softly. "But Peter's having a really bad sensory day. The teacher touching him set him off, and now he's in a non-verbal state."
Tony's expression softened as he processed the information, a pang of guilt tugging at his chest. "I see," he murmured, his voice heavy with regret. "I didn't realize..."
MJ shook her head, her gaze unwavering. "It's not your fault, Tony," she said firmly. "But right now, Peter needs our help."
With a shared understanding, they turned their attention back to Peter, who sat huddled in the stall, his eyes distant and unfocused.

Tony turned to MJ, a furrow forming between his brows. "What should we do?" he asked, his voice tinged with uncertainty.
MJ took a deep breath, her mind racing with possibilities. "We need to ground him and let him ride it out," she replied, her tone resolute. "It's been about ten minutes now, and it's slowly getting better. But we need something to distract him."
She paused, her gaze flicking to Peter before returning to Tony. "You could tell him about your day," she suggested. "Sometimes talking about something mundane can help bring someone back from a meltdown."
Tony nodded, understanding the logic behind MJ's suggestion. "Alright," he said softly, turning his attention back to Peter. "Hey, Pete, you wanna hear about my day?"
Peter looked up at Tony, his eyes still clouded with distress. But as Tony began to speak, recounting the events of his day in a calm, steady voice, Peter seemed to relax ever so slightly, the tension in his shoulders beginning to ease.
And as Tony continued to talk, MJ watched with a sense of relief as Peter's breathing steadied and his eyes regained their focus

Just as Tony was in the midst of sharing his day with Peter, the door to the bathroom burst open with a bang. Flash Thompson stormed in, his face twisted in frustration.
"Peter, what the hell, man? The teacher made me come find you! We both need to get back to class! I’m not getting in trouble for your shit." Flash's speech was cut off abruptly as his eyes fell upon the unexpected sight of Tony Stark and Peter Parker seated on the bathroom floor.
For a moment, the room fell silent, the tension palpable as Flash struggled to make sense of the scene before him. Then, his gaze flickered between Peter and Tony, his expression a mix of shock and disbelief.

As Flash barged into the bathroom, MJ's frustration boiled over. "What do you think you're doing, Flash? Can't you see Peter's in distress?" she snapped, her tone laced with anger.
Flash's eyes widened in surprise as he took in the scene before him. "How is it possible that Tony Stark is here right now?" he muttered incredulously.
Tony, unfazed by Flash's interruption, raised an eyebrow. "Do you or Peter know him?" he asked, his voice calm yet probing.
MJ's jaw clenched, her dislike for Tony Stark bubbling to the surface. "I know him," she replied tersely, her tone dripping with disdain. "But I hate him."
Flash glanced between MJ and Tony, a flicker of confusion crossing his features.

MJ's eyes flashed with determination as she turned to Flash. "You need to leave right now," she insisted, her voice firm. "We're handling it, and Peter needs space. Tell the teacher to screw off."
Flash hesitated for a moment, taken aback by MJ's commanding tone. But sensing her resolve, he nodded reluctantly and backed out of the bathroom, closing the door behind him.
"what just happened" Flash whispered to himself as he left the bathroom.
Tony watched the exchange with a small smile, a hint of admiration in his eyes. "You must be pretty close with Peter if that's how you'll defend him to his teacher," he remarked, his voice warm.

MJ met Tony's gaze, a flicker of gratitude in her eyes. "Yeah, well, he's been there for me when I needed him," she replied, her voice soft. "I'll always have his back."
With a nod of understanding, Tony turned his attention back to Peter.

Peter's fingers began to move in a familiar pattern. H-O-M-E.
MJ watched Peter's fingers spell out the letters, a knowing look crossing her face. "He wants to go home," she translated for Tony, her voice soft but sure.
Tony's brow furrowed in confusion. "Home? You wanna go back and see May?" he asked, his tone gentle.
Peter shook his head, his gaze unwavering as he pointed a finger at Tony, a silent plea in his eyes.

Understanding dawned on Tony's face as he met Peter's gaze. "You want to go back with me?" he asked, his voice filled with a mix of surprise and warmth.
Peter nodded eagerly, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

"Alright, buddy. Let's get you home," he said with a warm smile.
Peter's eyes lit up with gratitude as he looked at Tony, a sense of relief washing over him. He turned to MJ, his expression filled with heartfelt appreciation. "Thank you," he whispered, his voice barely above a whisper.
MJ returned Peter's grateful look with a small smile of her own. "Anytime, Peter," she replied softly, her voice filled with sincerity. "I'll always be here for you."

Tony guided Peter out of the bathroom, keeping a watchful eye on their surroundings. As they emerged into the hallway, he noticed the curious stares of other students, their whispers filling the air like a dull hum.
Sensing Peter's discomfort, Tony quickened their pace, gently urging him forward. "Come on, Pete, let's keep moving," he said quietly, his voice a soothing presence amidst the noise.
Peter nodded, his hands instinctively pressing the headphones tighter around his ears as if to block out the unwanted attention. He kept his gaze fixed on the ground, willing himself to disappear into the crowd.
Tony cast a protective glance at Peter, a silent promise in his eyes. Together, they navigated the crowded hallway, each step bringing them closer to the sanctuary of home.

Tony quickly waves down Happys car and guides Peter into the back seat and sits next to him.
"back to the tower, please, happy"
"Sure thing boss" Happy says pulling away from midtown

Happy sends Peter some sad glances through the rearview mirror, unsure of what to say since he is used to the chatty, happy, smiley, Peter, not this silent sad Peter he sees today.

Chapter Text

They finally make their way back upstate and arrive at the tower, in the comfort of home. Tony's brow furrows with uncertainty as he looks around, unsure of what to do next.
"Hey, Pete, how about we get you settled in?" Tony suggests, his voice gentle as he looks to Peter for guidance.
Peter nods in agreement, exhaustion is evident in his eyes as he rubs at them wearily. "Yeah," he whispers hoarsely, his voice barely above a whisper.
Tony leads Peter to the guest bedroom, a space that might as well be called Peter's own considering how frequently he stays there. With each step, Tony can't help but feel a pang of guilt for the burden that Peter carries, the weight of the world rests heavily on his young shoulders.

As they enter the room, Tony gestures toward the bed, a silent invitation for Peter to rest. "How about we get you some rest, huh?" he suggests, his tone soft with concern.
Peter nods gratefully, his movements slow and deliberate as he climbs into bed. With a sigh of relief, he settles beneath the covers, his eyes already drifting shut in anticipation of much-needed sleep.
Tony watches over him for a moment, a wave of affection swelling in his chest as he sees Peter finally find a moment of peace.

Tony returns to the kitchen, where he finds Happy, Natasha, Clint, and Steve waiting for him with a puzzled expression. Happy crosses his arms, his eyebrows raised in question. "What the hell was that all about?" he asks, gesturing vaguely in the direction of the guest bedroom.
Tony sighs, running a hand through his hair as he tries to gather his thoughts. "I'm not sure," he admits, his voice tinged with concern.

Tony continues, recounting the events that led to their unexpected departure from school. "I got an alert from Peter's watch," Tony explains, his tone grave. "His heart rate was elevated, and it wasn't slowing down. He didn't hit the emergency override, so I went to check on him."
Happy's eyes widen in surprise at the gravity of the situation. "Damn," he mutters, shaking his head. "Is he okay now?"
Tony nods slowly, a hint of relief in his voice. "Yeah, he's resting now," he replies, his gaze distant as he thinks of Peter's exhausted form in the guest bedroom.

Tony leans against the kitchen counter, rubbing his temples as he tries to make sense of the day's events. "When I got to the school, Peter was in the bathroom with MJ," he begins, his voice low and contemplative. "He was... in a pretty bad state."
Happy listens intently, his expression serious as he waits for Tony to continue.
"He was rocking back and forth, pressing his headphones against his ears like he was trying to block something out," Tony explains, his brow furrowing with concern. "And when I tried to talk to him, he didn't respond. It was like he was in his own world."
Happy's eyes widen with surprise, a look of concern crossing his features. "That doesn't sound good," he remarks, his voice filled with empathy.

Natasha, her gaze thoughtful, speaks up gently. "I knew someone like that too," she says softly, her voice carrying a note of empathy. "He was the same way, overwhelmed and overstimulated. And when it all became too much, he just... melted down."
Her words hang in the air, the weight of their shared experiences palpable in the room.

As Natasha speaks, Steve's brows furrow in confusion. "What are you getting at, Nat? That the kid's retarded?" he interjects, his tone tinged with ignorance.
The room falls silent, a heavy tension settling over them. Tony, Natasha, Clint, and Happy exchange incredulous glances, their expressions a mix of disbelief and disappointment.

Natasha's jaw tightens, her eyes flashing with indignation. "No, Steve," she replies sharply, her voice cutting through the air. "I think he's autistic. That is not a word we use in this century. It's extremely outdated and rude. And if I hear you use that word again, I am off this team."
Steve's face pales as he realizes the gravity of his mistake. "I... I didn't mean..." he stammers, his words trailing off as he searches for an explanation.
But Natasha's glare silences him, her stance unwavering as she waits for his response.

After a moment of tense silence, Steve nods solemnly, his expression contrite. "I'm sorry," he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper. "I didn't realize..."
Natasha's expression softens slightly at his apology, but her eyes remain steely. "Just remember that words matter, Steve," she says firmly. "Especially when it comes to someone like Peter."

Tony's gaze turns to Natasha, Clint, and Steve, his expression thoughtful. "You think so? You really think he might be autistic?" he asks, his voice tinged with uncertainty.
Natasha nods, her eyes meeting Tony's with conviction. "I mean, you can't be sure unless you ask," she replies, her tone measured. "But everything you mentioned that happened, including him becoming nonverbal, seems to point towards it."
Clint and Steve nod in agreement, their expressions serious as they consider the implications of Peter's behavior.
Tony absorbs their words, a sense of clarity beginning to dawn on him. "I see," he murmurs, his mind racing with newfound understanding. "Well, whatever it is, he's still Peter. And he's still one of us."

Tony furrows his brow, a sense of unease settling over him. "I don't like this," he admits, his voice tinged with discomfort. "We shouldn't be talking behind his back like this."
His words hang in the air, a silent acknowledgment of the importance of approaching the situation with sensitivity and respect.
Natasha nods in agreement, her expression thoughtful. "You're right, Tony," she says softly. "We'll talk to Peter about it when he's ready."

"I'm gonna go work on my suits," he declares, his voice firm as he heads toward the door.
As Tony exits the room, Natasha, Clint, and Steve exchange concerned glances, the weight of their conversation lingering in the air.

Tony strides into his lab, the weight of the day's events still heavy on his mind. With a sigh, he settles into his chair, pulling up the holographic display of JARVIS.
"JARVIS, I need you to do something for me," Tony says, his voice serious.
"Of course, sir. What can I assist you with?" JARVIS responds, his soothing voice echoing through the lab.

"pull up everything you can find on the traits of people with autism," Tony commands, his voice crisp with purpose.
JARVIS responds immediately, his digital voice echoing through the lab. "Of course, sir. Compiling data now."
As Tony watches the information appear on the screen, his mind races with questions and possibilities.

As JARVIS begins to list off traits of people with autism, Tony listens intently, his mind racing as he mentally checks off each one.
"Difficulty with social interaction," JARVIS begins, his voice echoing through the lab.
Tony nods, his mind flashing back to the moments he's shared with Peter, recognizing the struggles Peter has faced in social settings.
"Repetitive behaviors and routines," JARVIS continues.
Tony's brow furrows as he recalls Peter's meticulous routines and the comfort he finds in familiar patterns.
"Sensory sensitivities," JARVIS adds.
Tony nods again, remembering Peter's aversion to loud noises and crowded spaces, his heightened sensitivity to sensory stimuli evident in every interaction.
And as JARVIS continues to list off traits, Tony finds himself mentally checking them off one by one, each one a piece of the puzzle in understanding Peter's experience.

Tony's brow furrows in frustration as he processes the information. "How have I never connected the pieces before?" he mutters to himself, a sense of guilt creeping into his thoughts.
JARVIS's response is immediate, his voice calm and reassuring. "People with autism often mask their symptoms, attempting to hide their struggles in order to appear more neurotypical," he explains.
Tony nods, the pieces of the puzzle finally falling into place. He recalls the times Peter seemed to struggle, yet always managed to put on a brave face, hiding his true feelings from those around him.

Tony leans back in his chair, contemplating his next move. "So, what should I do now?" he asks JARVIS, his voice tinged with uncertainty.
JARVIS's response is measured and thoughtful. "I suggest waiting until Peter awakes," he advises. "Give him time to rest and process everything. When he's ready, talk to him. Let him know that you're here to support him."
Tony nods, a sense of determination settling over him. "Got it," he replies, his voice resolute. "I'll be here when he wakes up. Let me know when he gets up."

To kill time and to drown in his thoughts of Peter, he busies himself with a suit until Jarvis alerts him that Peter is awake.

Chapter Text

Peter slowly blinks his eyes open, his surroundings unfamiliar. Confusion clouds his mind as he tries to piece together where he is and how he got there. His heart races as the events of earlier flood back into his memory—the meltdown at school, being picked up by Tony Stark, and the overwhelming emotions that followed.
As the memories replay in his mind, a wave of embarrassment washes over him. "Stupid, stupid, stupid," he mutters to himself, his cheeks flushing with shame. He can't believe he acted like that in front of Tony Stark of all people.

Dragging a hand down his face, Peter takes a deep breath, trying to calm the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside him. He knows he shouldn't be so hard on himself, but it's hard not to feel embarrassed about losing control in such a public way.
With a sigh, Peter pushes himself into a sitting position, his thoughts still swirling as he tries to make sense of everything that's happened. He knows he owes Tony an explanation, but the thought of facing him after what happened fills him with dread.

xxxxxx

Tony is engrossed in his work in the workshop when JARVIS's voice cuts through the silence.
"Sir, Peter is awake and making his way to the common area," JARVIS informs him.
Tony's heart skips a beat at the news. He quickly sets aside his tools, his mind racing with a mixture of anticipation and apprehension. He knows he needs to talk to Peter, to reassure him and let him know that everything is okay.

With a sense of determination, Tony makes his way to the common area, his steps quickening with each passing moment. He can't shake the feeling of guilt that washes over him. As he enters the common area, he sees Peter sitting on the couch, his expression pensive. Tony's heart goes out to him, seeing the turmoil written on his face.
"Hey, kid," Tony says softly, approaching Peter with a gentle smile. "How are you feeling?"

Peter looks up, his eyes widening slightly in surprise at Tony's presence. He clears his throat, trying to steady his nerves before responding.
"Uh, I'm okay, I guess," Peter replies, his voice tinged with uncertainty. "Sorry about earlier. I don't know what came over me."
Tony sits down beside Peter, his expression sympathetic. "Hey, it's okay," he reassures him, placing a comforting hand on Peter's shoulder. "We all have our moments. You don't need to apologize."
Peter nods, grateful for Tony's understanding. "Thanks," he murmurs, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
There's a moment of silence between them as they both gather their thoughts, unsure of what to say next.
Finally, Tony breaks the silence, his voice gentle. "Listen, Peter, I want you to know that I'm here for you. Whatever you're going through, whatever you need, I'm here to support you."
Peter's eyes meet Tony's, gratitude shining in their depths. "Thanks, Tony," he says sincerely, feeling a weight lift off his shoulders at Tony's words.

Tony clears his throat, shifting slightly in his seat as he considers how to broach the topic that weighs heavily on his mind.
"Peter, there's something I want to talk to you about," Tony begins, his tone serious yet gentle. "I've been doing some research, and I think I may have a better understanding of what you're going through."
Peter's brow furrows in confusion, curiosity evident in his expression. "What do you mean?" he asks, his voice tinged with apprehension.
Tony takes a deep breath, steeling himself for the conversation ahead. "I think you might be autistic," he says softly, his gaze never leaving Peter's.

Peter's eyes widen in surprise at Tony's words, a mix of emotions flickering across his features. He feels a knot form in his stomach, a rush of fear and uncertainty washing over him. peter had been so sure he was carefult to hide it from him, I guess he wasnt hiding it well enough from his mentor.

Peter goes quiet, his hands instinctively rising to cover his face as if to shield himself from Tony's gaze. Shame and embarrassment flood through him, knowing that Tony has seen through the facade he's worked so hard to maintain.
Tony reaches out, placing a reassuring hand on Peter's arm. "Hey, it's okay," he says gently, his voice filled with warmth and understanding. "There's nothing to be embarrassed about. We'll get through this together."
Peter peeks through his fingers, meeting Tony's gaze with a mixture of apprehension and vulnerability. "I... I do have autism," he admits softly, his voice trembling with emotion. "I've been so careful to hide it from you, but I guess I slipped up this time."

Tony's heart aches at Peter's confession, a surge of empathy washing over him.
"Is it okay if I give you a hug?" Tony asks Peter and he nods quickly. He pulls Peter into a comforting embrace, offering him the reassurance he so desperately needs.

Peter's eyes fill with tears as he awaits Tony's response, his heart heavy with the fear of rejection. "I... I understand if you want me off the team," he chokes out, his voice barely above a whisper. "I can call May to pick me up."

Tony's heart breaks at Peter's words, a deep sadness welling up inside him at the thought of Peter doubting his place on the team. He tightens his embrace around Peter, holding him close as he shakes his head.

"Peter, no," Tony says firmly, his voice unwavering. "That's not the case at all. You're a valuable member of this team, and nothing will change that."
Peter looks up at Tony, disbelief written across his features. "But... but what about my autism? You saw what happened at school. I was a mess. That’s not the first time that’s happened and it won’t be the last." he asks, his voice trembling with uncertainty.

Tony smiles softly, brushing a tear from Peter's cheek. "Your autism doesn't define you, Peter," he says gently. "It's just one part of who you are, and it doesn't change how I see you. You're still the same amazing kid I've come to know and admire." Tony smiles at Peter.

Tony's smile widens as he meets Peter's gaze, his eyes filled with unwavering determination. "We'll work through this together, Peter," he says firmly, his voice brimming with confidence. "You haven't let it stop you before, and you won't let it stop you going forth."

Peter's heart swells with gratitude at Tony's words, a sense of relief washing over him as he realizes that he's not alone in this journey. With Tony's support and encouragement, he feels a newfound sense of strength and determination to face whatever challenges lie ahead.
"Thank you, Tony," Peter says softly, his voice filled with emotion. "I... I don't know what I would do without you."
Tony pulls Peter into another embrace, holding him close as they sit together in comforting silence. "You'll never have to find out," he says reassuringly, his voice filled with warmth and sincerity. "I'll always be here for you, Peter. No matter what."

"We’ll just have to work on ways to accomadte you better, starting with a new suit. How do built-in noise-canceling headphones sound? Do you think that will help you out?"
Peter looks up at Tony and smiles, "Yeah, I think that will help a lot."
"There ya go Pete, see already making improvements. I wish you would have told me sooner, why’d you feel like you couldn't?"
"Everyone I’ve told either makes fun of me or underestimates me."
"What about that MJ? She seems to be on your side, firecly."
"Yeah… you’re right" Peter gives a slight chuckle at her yesterday defending him from Flash and helping him keeping him calm and grabbing his headphones for him. "I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before. I didn’t want you to take the suit. I love being Spiderman. It lets me be normal for a little bit."
"Let me tell you this much, normal is boring. No one on the team is normal. Me? I have a fake heart, arc reactor keeping me alive. Clint? He’s deaf and he's on the team just as much as you or I am. Steve? He weighed 95lbs soaking wet before the serum. Do I need to say anything about Bruce?"
"Thanks, Mr. Stark" Peter replies
"Any time kid, just know I, and the whole team has got your back if you ever need anything sensory, environment, mental, and accommodation wise. Everyone is in it together."
"Thank you, not just for that but for being there, at school I mean. Coming to get me."
"Like I said, anytime. Now," Tony says standing up, "Wanna get into the lab, we still have a whole lab night ahead of us"
Peter puts on a cheery smile stands up and says "More than ever."