Shadows Are Not Always Darkness

Prompt #2: NIGHTMARES

NEW EDIT: THIS IS NOT STARKER.

Hell yeah, 2 boxes done in 3 days :D can I get a yeehaw? I hope you guys enjoy! <3 

__________ 

When Peter's eyes snap open, the air around him feels stuffy and hot.

He kicks his covers off his legs, his whole body trembling. Sitting up, the boy reaches up to rub at his eyes, startled to find his face wet with tears.

Oh yeah. He's crying. He's sobbing.

Now that he realizes this, Peter can't keep his cries at bay. They jump up from his chest, crawl up his throat and tear his lungs out. Curling his legs, the spiderling presses his face against his knees, presses his forehead so hard that pain spreads from his temples. But Peter can't seem to force himself to care.

He's back under the rubble, back under the concrete and gravel, pinned by slabs of stone with no hope of rescue. No one to hear him scream.

A soft whimpers rises up, the darkness around him pressing, pinning him to his bed with enough force to crush bone and tear skin. He sucks in a gasping breath, tries to focus on the way the air around him smells of home; of the still wet paint on his science project and the slight breeze coming in from his cracked window.

The air smells like rain. It must have stormed earlier, the wind sweet.

It barely does anything to calm Peter's nerves, however. There is only one thing--one person who can do that, and he is all the way down the hall.

The dark, long hallway, with only the shadows to keep him company.

Shifting on his bed, Peter sniffs, angry at himself. He's Spider-Man for fuck's sake. He shouldn't be scared of the dark, or of his room, or being alone, caught up in his memories of dirt in his eyes and lungs, the rocks above him slowly falling closer as he struggles to breath and oh god he can't get out he can't please please anyone please help he can't breathe please Dad please. . .

Letting out another deep sob, Peter finally makes his decision, throwing his legs over the side of the bed and shivering as the air makes contact with his bare skin.

He has just stood up, his legs nearly giving out from under him, when his bedroom door is ripped open.

"Peter?" Tony whispers, his face shrouded in a blue-tinged shadow. "Buddy, you okay?"

Peter just lets out another sob, taking a staggering step toward his father and reaching out with trembling hands. Tony doesn't even hesitate, meeting his son in the middle and pulling him into his arms, making soothing sounds under his breath.

"Hey, hey." Moving them both over to Peter's bed, Tony sits them down, pulling the teen back against his chest. "What's wrong, Petey-Pie? Are you hurt?"