The Hero Deep Inside

Sniffles (pt. 4)

This is the last past of Sniffles (Which wasn't really a one-shot, but hey). I hope y'all have enjoyed it!  --Alliyah

Peter's POV

Lights.

Flashes of light.

Then voices.

Everything was so far away, so distant.

Why was everything so distant?
I reached out.

Maybe I could...If I reached far enough.

I blinked my eyes open.

It took a second for my vision to clear, for everything to come into focus.

I was in a room. A bedroom? Not my own anyway.

I sat up slightly. My head throbbed gently and the room spun. I managed to steady myself and look around.

Someone was sitting next to the bed I was in. They were slumped over, head lolling into their hands. The suit they wore looked crumpled and dirty. Next to them on the side table was a pair of....sunglasses?

Mr. Stark.

I couldn't help but smile.

He had come.

He had made everything alright.

Just like I thought.

"Mr. Stark?" I asked, my voice quiet and raspy.

He jolted, suddenly wide awake. His hands flew away from his face, leaving red marks across his cheeks. Dark eyes, wild and tired, roved around the room until they settled on me.

"Underoos?" Then the eyes widened. "Underoos!"

I smiled. "Hey," I reached up, rubbing my temples with a hand.

"You're awake!" Mr. Stark practically yelled, running his hands through his hair and only succeeding in making it look more unkempt. "Goodness, you're awake!" He didn't seem to know what to do with himself suddenly: his hands flickered over his face, carded through his hair, reached out suddenly as if to embrace me and then pulled back again.

"Yeah," I said, lamely. "I'm back,"

The words, though--however simple--seemed to break the spell and Mr. Stark was himself again.

"Didn't take you long," Mr. Stark said, sarcastically. He reached for the sunglasses on the side table and snapped them open with a flick of his hand. "Did it, Sleeping Beauty?"

I laughed softly. I couldn't believe that I missed his humor.

"How long....How long was I out?"

"Pfft. Just two days," I couldn't mistake the sarcasm. 

I froze.

"What?" I finally managed.

Mr. Stark slid the glasses onto his face. "Two days, kid. Did I not enunciate?"

"No....no, I just....I didn't think--"

"Yeah, no wonder." Mr. Stark tapped his chin with his index finger. "That's probably why you decided to go to school sick. And when your friend--"

"Ned?"

"That's his name?--When Ned made you go home, you tried to make it home on your own." Mr. Stark was on a roll now, the words pouring from his mouth. He leaned forward, looking over his sunglasses at me with a piercing gaze. "What'd you fall from, by the way? Because you managed a concussion, several bruised ribs--a broken one--and a dislocated shoulder. Not sure how the dislocation happened along the way--but, heck, it happened!"

"Right," I said, suddenly feeling the urge to look anywhere but at my mentor's face. I stared down at my hands. "I don't remember...."

"Of course not. Because you were unconscious when I found you. You woke up a few times--sure--But you were so delirious that you didn't know that I was there. Pete, we relocated the shoulder without a groan from you." At those words Mr. Stark seemed to run out of gas. He hunched over; now he looked like a stressed, deflated version of himself. He took off the sunglasses and set them back on the side table with a clack that reverberated through the silent room.

"I was worried, Pete," Mr. Stark breathed, after what felt like a lifetime of silence.

My head jerked up of its own accord, my temple throbbing gently in a weak protest.

Mr. Stark choked out a laugh. "Yeah, I said it kid. And I'm going to say it again: I was worried." His eyes almost had a maniacal glint, the look of someone who laid awake at night more often than they slept. "Heck, I was scared." Another unnatural laugh followed the words. "I was scared for you Petey. And I know that you have super-healing and you're a hero and everything--I get it. I really do." Mr. Stark took a shaky breath. He looked down at his hands and then back up at me, like he couldn't believe what he was saying. "But I still worried, Pete. You scared the crap out of me."

I wasn't sure what to say. "Sorry,"

"'Sorry' doesn't cover it," Mr. Stark's gaze flicked away from mine for a brief second, then it locked back on mine and he was smiling. "But that's okay for now,"

I laughed, ignoring the twinge of pain in my ribs.

Mr. Stark watched me, a soft smile on his lips. "I missed you, kiddo," he whispered. He stood up and stepped close to the side of my bed. "I really missed you," He reached down and squeezed my hand.

I gripped his hand, my own fitting into his. I felt small again, my hand wrapped in Mr. Stark's bigger one. "Um, Mr. Stark, a handshake doesn't cover it,"

I pulled him towards me--not believing what I was doing and at the same time feeling that it was right. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders.

"Whoa--oh....Ah," Mr. Stark muttered, as he realized what I was doing. He relaxed slowly, and then hugged my shoulders gently.

"Thank you, Mr. Stark," I mumbled into his shoulder.

"Yeah," Mr. Stark said, still sounding surprised. "Just, uh, that was a one time thing. So don't plan on doing it again."

"Doing what again?"

"Getting the sniffles,"