The Hero Deep Inside

Sniffles (pt. 3)

 "Pete?....Peter!"

There was a voice. My own name sounded distant and foreign on my ears.

"Peter!" The voice was closer now, louder in my ears. Then I could see a face.

Ned.

Why was Ned here? He was....He was late. For class.

Ned was late for class.

"Ned....you have to--" Each words sent spikes of pain through my chest. Something was definitely broken.

"Shh. It's okay, Peter." Ned was saying. And then more to himself, "I shouldn't have let you leave...."

He must've touched me--put his hand on my shoulder--because white hot pain filled my mind. For a second, the pain was everything: I couldn't move, I couldn't think, I couldn't breathe.

Then it was gone.

"Peter!" Ned's voice was more than frantic now. "What happened? What hurts?"

Everything, I wanted to say, to scream. But nothing would come out.

"I-I going to call 911,"

I shook my head, and the movement taxed me more than it should have. I let my head loll to one side, my energy drained.

"Oh--right. Crap. Um...." Ned's voice was getting distant again. "May?"

No, I thought desperately, willing for him to understand. She can't come. I'll heal. I'll heal just give me a minute.

"Stark!"

Please, no.

But Ned was reaching into the backpack that lay next to me, fumbling with my phone. A split second later he said, "Um, hi....sir." And I knew that Mr. Stark had picked up. "This is Ned. Ned Leeds...Yeah, I'm Peter's friend....Peter sort of needs your help...."

I couldn't keep track of the rest of the conversation. The words blurred together and they all sounded so distant.

Tony Stark was coming. That was all I could think.

It wasn't that I didn't want to see Mr. Stark--I mean, he was the greatest.

I just didn't want him to see me.

Not now. Not like this.

But maybe--maybe he could make it alright again.

Would.

Maybe he would make everything alright again.

Ned knelt down next to me again. "He's coming, Peter. He's coming. Just hang on."

Right. I thought, not having the energy to nod. Just hang on.

****

(Tony Stark's POV)

I slid my chair back, exhaling a little.

Okay, maybe now was a good time for that sleep Pepper was saying that I should obtain every once and a while.

I ran both hands down my face and stifled a yawn.

Maybe--just this once--I could get some undisturbed, much needed sleep. Undisturbed as in no dreams, no--

Well, goodbye to that fantasy.

I reached down and slid the phone out of my pocket. It vibrated gently in my hand.

I raised an eyebrow as I caught sight of the caller ID. Underoos? Wasn't he in school? I tried to ignore the fact that my breath becoming slightly unsteady. I accepted the call and held the phone to my ear.

"Hello? Pete?"

 A different voice came through the phone. "Um, hi....sir."

 "Who is this?"

"This is Ned. Ned Leeds."

My eyebrows arched further. "Ned Leeds?"

"Yeah, I'm Peter's friend."

"Great. Well, you've reached Anthony Stark. Anything important to say? I'm not exactly--"

"Peter sort of needs your help."

That was it. Now I was panicking.

"What happened?" I said, noticing that my volume had increased slightly. "What's going on?"

"Peter--he was feeling sick--"

"Sick?" I repeated. "Can he get sick?" The question was more to myself, but Ned answered anyway.

"Well, apparently. He has a fever and he kept fading in and out--"

"Fading?"

"He was awake, sort of, but he wouldn't answer me and--"

"Where is he now? Is he awake now?" I was squeezing the phone against my ear and my shoulder now, scooting my chair back over to the desk. "Is he wearing his suit?"

"We're in an alley. He's--"

"An alley?" I repeated, in disbelief.

"He tried to make it home,"

"What?" 

"He was on the side of the road, when I found him. He's sick and--I think he's hurt too. I don't know what happened. He's not answering me anymore...."

"He's injured?"

"I don't know what happened, but--yeah,"

I stood so quickly that the chair toppled over backward. "I'm on my way, okay? Keep talking to him. Keep him awake." I was running now, getting into a car, plunging the key into the ignition. "Ned--keep him awake. I'm coming,"

"Yeah, okay,"

It was the longest five minutes of my life. Turns out Pete was wearing his suit--under his clothes maybe. I tracked his location using that.

He really was in an alley. How did this happen? How did I let this happen?

I pulled over on the side of the road and snapped the driver's side door open. Then I was running again--towards two figures this time.

"Pete? Peter!" And I was falling onto my knees next to the kid. "Hey, Underoos. Can you look at me?"

He tried. He tried and it broke my heart. I reach out and lifted his head, turning it so that his eyes locked his mine.

Oh, that worse.

His eyes--those eyes that were always so happy, so bright--were cloudy, unfocused. He blinked, once slowly.

"M-Mr. St....Stark?" His breathing was heavy, unsteady.

How had this happened?

"I'm here, kiddo." I whispered over a lump in my throat. "I'm here,"

Pete swallowed; his eyes were drifting shut.

"Hey, Underoos. You gotta look at me. You gotta stay with me, kid."

Peter tried to nod, "'M just....just tired,"

I squeezed my eyes shut for a fraction of a second and willed the moisture in them to dissipate. "I know, kid. Just hang in there. For me?"

Pete managed a weak smile--I don't know how. "Okay," He whispered.