CHEMICALS

you let it go

Tony was devastated.

Not only because he found out Peter was hurting himself – Jesus Christ he was hurting himself.
But because he saw the boy's haunted expression.

Peter maybe let him hold his hands but he didn't say a word for what it seemed like hours. Actually, it could've been hours, since there was a blinding orange light peeking through the glass wall. Sunrise.

They didn't talk, and Tony was fine with that. To be completely honest, a part of him even felt relieved a little bit, because he was afraid of saying the wrong thing. Without even looking at his blank expression, he knew Peter was in a very unstable and vulnerable state.

He thought anything could set Peter off. That's why Tony almost jumped in surprise, when he heard the boy's voice suddenly.

"Tony," Peter barely whispered. "I-I'm- Can you please let me go?"

Tony didn't answer at first. He did notice though, that Peter used his first name instead of his usual 'Mr. Stark'. He glanced at him but the boy wasn't willing to look him in the eye. His face seemed pale, and was slightly sweating. Tony sighed.

"Peter, please," the man squeezed his hand gently. "Please, look at me."

"Can you just fucking let me go?" Peter burst out suddenly. "I wanna go."

"Peter?" Tony frowned anxiously, letting the boy's hand fall to his thigh. "S-Sure, Peter, whatever you want. But if you want to... talk I'm–"

But before he could even finish his sentence, Peter quickly opened his window and leaped into the chilly air. With that Peter was gone. Tony buried his face into his palms.

*

Peter was confused.
Yes, he knew it probably wasn't the best thing to feel, but he felt confused.

Why didn't Tony yell at him? Why did he let the man sit beside him, holding his hand, without a word? He couldn't understand himself, but at the same time he couldn't understand Tony.

Maybe the man didn't really care about the scars? But why? Because he didn't care about Peter at all? Yes, he thought bitterly, it must've been the case.
That's why the man had let go of his hands so easily.

It was just barely after sunrise, so it was rather cold, but Peter enjoyed the chilly air. It helped him clear his mind. At first, he wanted to look for Harry – maybe to fight, maybe to yell, maybe to beg for forgiveness. Peter didn't know which. Maybe all of them, but not necessarily in that order.

But he quickly decided against it. He just... He just couldn't cope with Harry and all the shit right now. He needed distraction.

Peter slowed down on the roof of a particularly high building to catch his breath, but then he suddenly realized something. His mask. He didn't have his mask on.
He realized now that he even left Tony there, without a word, without explanation.
Congrats, Parker, you did very well.

He wasn't even angry at this point. He just sat down at the edge of the roof, looking down at the city. The city that never sleeps, Peter sighed disappointedly. He had to figure out something about hiding his identity.

He got an idea – a very ridiculous idea, to be honest. He knew it was practically nonsense, but he had no other choice, he couldn't swing around without his mask on. So he held tightly the hem of his dark t-shirt – which he got from one of the Avengers, so he definitely gotta apologize later – then ripped it.

He repeated the movement, and now he had two line of ripped clothes, and a basically a crop top. Fine, from now on, Spider-Man would be a fucking fashion icon.