Spiderson & IronDad One-Shots

It's Okay To Not Be Okay

     So was it always gonna be this way. It's good for a while then it all just kinda comes crumbling down or do people really have it good all the time? Do people always have it bad or do they find ways to make themselves happy? Is life short or is it long? No one really understands the real concept and that is kinda crazy. Why are there things we don't know about what we kinda created the Earth and made it what it is now? Yet, we still do not have the answers to ourselves? We don't know what the afterlife is or even if there is one yet there are many different beliefs.

"Pete. Hey buddy," Tony walked in with some bacon and eggs that the famous Captain America made in his apron that everyone made fun of.

"Thank you Mr. Stark," Peter smiled and grabbed a fork and began to eat as everyone around him ate.

"How is your head doing after that hit yesterday?" Peter looked up from his plate and cleared his throat as he numbly sat his fork down. His mind had been reeling with the weirdest thoughts. It usually was but he hadn't been the same since yesterday. He had took a big hit when a freaking robot sent him through a window and he hit a few bricks on the way in.

"Um, yeah. It hasn't been that bad. I just have a ton going around up there. Kinda giving me a headache," Peter smiled a small smile and looked back down at his breakfast. Bruce frowned and leaned forward a bit.

"What are you thinking about?"

"Just a lot of weird things. I kinda haven't stopped thinking about just...everything."

Steve finally took a seat and put a napkin down in his lap, "well are you alright?"

"I-I think so," Peter nodded and went back to eating. He was okay right now but his head felt like a wheelbarrow full of cement and he didn't know what to make of it.

"Well just get some rest kiddo. I think you just need some really good meds and a nap," Tony encouraged as he shoved some eggs in his mouth.

"I think you're right. Thank you Mr. Stark," Peter smiled and ate a peace of his bacon.

Natasha frowned at the boy and watched him the rest of breakfast. He was really deep in thought most of the time and if someone would talk to him he would answer in a smaller voice. Nat knew something was up and she would confront him later about it.

Peter laid down in his bed and sighed. He hadn't been so upbeat lately. Things had gotten a bit rough. School was becoming stressful more than fun. Hanging out with friends seemed more like a task rather than fun and a way to relax. Patrolling seemed more like a challenge rather than an adventure. His head was pounding and thoughts weren't right anymore. They were dark and depressing.

A knock sounded from his door and his thought were shoved aside.

"Come in."

Nat came in with a shy smile. "Hello, little spider. Are you doing alright?"

"Eh. I just...there is a lot going on," Peter frowned. He didn't wanna trouble her with his thoughts. "But I'm fine. Really."

Black Widow was not idiot. Peter knew this. He just didn't want someone to worry about him when they had their own issues or thoughts that troubled them. He didn't need someone to be devoting time to him.

"Peter. Talking to me is not hurting me and it doesn't make you any less strong. Talking does help. You're always there for others. And yet you don't let us be there for you." Nat took a seat next to the boy and moved her hand to his leg. "We're here. I'm here."

"I know. I just.....I don't want to trouble you. I'm suppose to be Spiderman. Spiderman doesn't have problems. He's strong and fearless," Peter put his head in his hands as he sat up on his bed. His legs crossed. The lamp creating just enough light to be settle yet there. The tears creating a lump in his throat making it hard for him to talk. Making it feel like his Adam's Apple had went inward.

"But you're Peter. Peter Parker. I'm your Aunt Nat."

Peter looked at her a the sound of that. She shrugged as she silently told him it was pretty much true. He nodded as he looked back down into his lap.

"Peter. Tell me something, how many people have you saved from jumping off that ledge? How many people have you convinced to step away?" Nat awaited as the teenager put thought into the question.

"About fifteen," Peter replied, numbly.

"You're there for everyone, Peter. You're there for the little guy when no one else will be. But who's there for you? You don't always have to put on the strong front. Give yourself time." Nat recommended.

Peter ran a hand through his hair as he listened to the spy/assassin. She had good points. This must not be her first rodeo. Yet, with this job nothing is your first anymore.

"Talk to me, little one."

Peter swallowed the lump so he could speak, "I can't sleep at night. I get random headaches. Talking with my friends seem like tasks. I overthink every message I get from someone. I-I put myself down. When I workout all I think is how people would bash me if I looked any different. So I have to stay in shape. And it hurts. It feels like I'm in the ocean. I'll get to the surface. Yet, when I get there. There's no air. And sometimes there will be a breeze. A sense of relief. I'll- I'll get a breath. Then, it restarts. I lose confidence, I lose myself. I lose happiness. That's who I am. I've always been that. The 'happy go lucky' kid." Peter sniffled. "I don't know what happened, Nat."

Natalies heart actually hurt at what she had just been told. The teenage boy had just spilled his heart out to her. He was hurting. Deeply. He was too stressed.

"And I pick at my thumbs now. Apparently it's a anxiety thing. I pick to the point to where I bleed. It goes away quick because of my healing. I go right back to doing it though. And I actually feel it when something hurts. In my chest, my shoulders. When words hurt. No one tells me them. I tell myself horrible things about me. I look in the mirror and I discourage everything I possibly can. The worst is that I compare myself to others. And I feel...grey. I never thought you could actually feel colors. Grey is actually what I feel," Peter finished with a sob.

Nat wrapped the boy into a tight hug and he cried into her shoulder.

"It hurts, Nat. I don't know what happened. I don't know."

"Peter. You're stressed and things haven't been going well. Your aunt passed away a month ago. You cannot make yourself heal faster because you think you don't deserve to get closure. We're all here for you little one. I promise," Nat held the boy close until he fell asleep.

Tony Stark entered the room. His eyes red. He had been crying behind the door. He heard everything.

"He really is a mini me." Tony said sadly. Nat held a grim smile and walked to Tony.

"He will get through this. Be there for him. He needs you right now more than ever. I mean it, Tony. Be the father he needs right now." Nat left.

Tony walked to the snoozing boy. Who looked so peaceful. So unbothered. Yet, never judge a book by its cover. No matter how good it's covered up.