Outnumbered

Chapter 12

It doesn't matter how rich Tony is. Money is money.

"Kid, look at me," Tony says, sitting down in the chair to his left.

Peter shakes his head, holds the tears in with every fiber of his being and fingers pressed against his eyelids.

"These kinds of things are bound to happen. Like that night when you forgot to put your pump back on before bed. We can't be perfect at this every single time. There's more to life than diabetes, Peter, even though I know it doesn't feel like that most days. Like today, you're going to meet with execs at NASA and rock their socks off, diabetes and all." Tony sounds triumphant, is trying to shift the tone of the morning's events.

Peter just sniffles, holds his head in his hands. Tony keeps saying we and it only reminds Peter of how lucky he truly is to be able to drop a full vial of insulin without worrying for about it for more than a few minutes because of Tony. He's spent his entire life worrying about things that he knows Tony has probably never thought twice about, because while May has always done her best, it hasn't always been easy, especially not after Ben died. And while he doesn't think about the what ifs as much as he used to, as much as he had to, he can't help but harbor the guilt that he's so damn lucky even though this sucks so freaking much.

Peter licks his lips. "You can say that because we don't have to worry about supplies, Tony. Not...not everyone gets to pretend there's more to life than diabetes," Peter whispers. "Not as much as we can, anyway. Not when they don't know how they're going to pay for their next injection or a possible trip to the hospital."

Tony nods, digesting what Peter's saying. "You're right. We are very lucky in that way, Underoos. Hadn't thought of it that way."

"After that night when I forgot to connect my pump, I just kept thinking, like, what if things were different and I wasn't Spiderman, didn't know you. What if I'd been diagnosed and didn't have Dexcom or a pump. What if I'd fallen asleep without checking and had gone into DKA and May had to pay for a hospital stay in the ICU, or something worse had happened, and...it's just got me thinking that not everyone gets to rely on Dexcom to wake them up and just reconnect their pump and go back to bed knowing they'll come down. Like, what if that vial I dropped was my last one, was supposed to last me a bit, and there wasn't enough in May's account to cover a new one, or I didn't have time before my meeting at NASA and it was my big break, a-and I had to go without my pump or injections for hours because this meeting was the one that could change everything, get me the insurance I needed?"

Tony goes to speak, but stops.

"I know that I'm impulsive and that sometimes I make stupid mistakes, but I also spend way too many hours thinking about these kinds of things because I feel like I have to plan ahead all of the time, just in case. I don't want this to be anyone else's burden if it doesn't have to be and I hate when I'm the focus of everyone else's attention. It's just...I feel like I have to worry about every little thing in order to make sure this kind of stuff doesn't happen too often. It's hard not to worry about it, Tony. I know I have a safety net for my supplies in place, and I'm so thankful for that, but it's sometimes hard to switch my anxiety about the future and everything to focusing on the present, you know?"

"Pete," Tony says, sighing. "That's a lot of anxiety for one person."

"Tell me about it," he huffs, wiping his eyes.

"You know you don't have to do this all on your own."

"One day I'm going to have to," Peter says, shrugging.

"Site changes and ordering supplies, yes. Managing highs and lows and bolusing? Yes. The rest, though? That's where your family comes in. And you're not a burden, Peter. You could never be a burden to us. Do I hate diabetes? Of course. Do I get frustrated watching you get frustrated? Of course I do. But things happen whether we want them to or not. That's what your family is here for."