Wrong number :/~~Spider-Man

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Peter wasn't okay. Probably never would be at this point.

Unfortunately, per usual, he couldn't express it. What kind of story would that be? Characters talking things out? Utter bull crap. Doesn't exist.

Instead, he stood there and just fought his emotions, breathing heavily from only the couple seconds he'd been out of the air. He dug his nails into his hands subtly, just like he used to when he had bad days with May. Old habits died hard, it seemed.

"Next time it starts acting up, I'll pick you up, alright? I'll—I'll have Stephen portal us, we'll put you in the quiet room. I uh.. I'll stock up on snacks and you can just chill out—"

"Mr Stark, I'm okay" Peter cut him off, every offer of help making him feel worse, "I just lost track of time. It's not that big of a deal, I promise".

He promised. Like the idiot he was, he promised it. If there was even a sliver of a chance that he could get Tony to understand now, it was gone.

Tony looked between the reflective pearly white coverings over Peter's eyes, as if they might give him an answer on what sort of concern he should express.

Sighing in defeat, at a loss of what to do, Tony waved his suit over.

"Let's get home, kiddo" he muttered, the suit clinging to him.

The next half hour flight (Peter went a lot further than he'd thought) was spent with Tony planning for situations out of his control. What he'd do if Peter began panicking at school, what routes he'd take if that happened, exactly when and where in the tower would for sure be empty at the time required.

He'd carried Peter back to the tower, who just listened in silence.

Tony seemed unaware of the garbage he took so much care of. Once he'd find out, everything would be so much worse in every way.

Tony made him go to bed the second they got back, after feeding him double the amount he needed.

Peter let it happen.

Just like he let everything happen.

You know, like he'd let May drown out his screams with the average childhood memories not so long ago. Or how he'd let Skip snuff him into a corner with no openings, cutting him off from any help he would've been there to receive. Just like he'd let life itself walk all over him at every chance possible, apparently.

The night wasn't much better.

Peter knew it, Tony knew it, but nothing could be done.

Tony sat awake at night waiting for Friday to inform him that Peter had finally fallen asleep, or that he had sprung into a panic, or that maybe he'd popped his finger a bit too hard. He waited for the slightest alert for anything, refusing to even bury himself in tinkering until he was sure that Peter was alright. They never came.

He'd gone out and retrieved Peter's things at one point, and the 99+ messages that'd sprung throughout the day weren't so assuring.

He was worried that Peter might be isolating himself off from his peers. From experience, and the occasional ongoing relapse, Tony learned that this sort of thing was never a good sign.

He sighed, scrolling through the messages they'd shared. Trying to figure out what he did wrong.

Peter was doing so good.

What caused it?

Tony tried going over Peter's previous triggers. They seemed tough to set off, or hard to spot, because of how long and how good Peter had gotten at hiding them.

Shouting.. probably wasn't such a good idea earlier. Loud noises in general.

Could he have been the cause of one? The kid had his mask on the whole time, and refused to remove it. It could've been something Tony had done.

Friday had Peter on close examination since they'd arrived, so if it happened, it would've been over by then. And Tony literally had Peter in his arms. He just seemed tired.

Either way, Tony was going to apologize tomorrow.

He felt a pit in his stomach when the sun shone through into the kitchen. Steve had come and go, and Friday let him know which early birds were starting their stupid early riser schedules.

"Hey hon?" He called out to the ceiling, "did Peter ever go to sleep?".

Tony wondered if throughout the long night, maybe he had missed something. He turned off the quiet music he had playing, pouring himself another cup of coffee as he began attempting to follow a recipe for breakfast.

"No sir, he has been idle for the majority of the night" she informed, "he picked at his arms and rolled around, but that is all I've got. He talked to me about taking a shower. His heat levels are elevated for much of his upper half" she relayed the information with her flat tone, as if she was reading it from a list.

Peter had done less that night than Tony had, and Tony's whole goal was to do nothing until Peter fell asleep. That couldn't have been fun.

Tony ignored the elevated heat thing, probably just Friday scrapping for information that was abnormal. He didn't know what Peter's average was to begin with, he doubt she'd found it either from all of the chaos.

Speaking of, he'd have to run a full-scale analysis on everything the trio could think of for Peter's differences from the average Joe. Friday needed a median to run off of so that they could be aware of what to do.

He sighed and leaned against the counter, rubbing his eyes.

He wanted so desperately to help, but what could he do? Tony had all the power in the world that he could need, other than the power of people. Perhaps Peter needed his own personal therapist? Tony considered some agents from shield who specialized with trauma, but he wasn't ready to give Peter's full name out to the human weaponizing team.

He'd figure it out.

Right now, he was after pancakes.

—

I have an endgame to this section, but I have no idea how to get there yet.

I'll follow Tony's plan and get to it when I get to it lol

Anywhoosies, I hope you all have a wonderful day, otherwise I will be adding a bullet to the book

Love you all 💛💛💛

Sincerely, bongo