#I haven’t been able to eat or drink since Tuesday because my stomach will reject anything even water

[leetaeiil]

I have Covid for the first time and I’ve never been so sick and miserable in my life

[ridleytheknight]

Parker Luck Part 3

           Things came back slowly to him. One small thing at a time flitting back into his sense, like the cold feeling of the tiles against his warm hands. Smooth and slightly rough with scuff marks that had accumulated over the years. The arch of his back as his body was elevated on some firm surface. The smell of some kind of oil and cologne. His senses were still fuzzy as confusion blurred his judgment. Why was he on the floor? A muffled voice grew louder and sharped by the second. Clear once Peter was able to recognize it.

           Tony Stark.

           And the warm surface beneath him was actually Mr. Stark’s arms and legs cradling him to prop his body up. Holding him tightly. The realization made Peter’s blue eyes shoot open wide, immediately trying to step up while stuttering multiple apologies and blushing redder than a tomato as his brain tried to comprehend the fact he was being held like a child by Tony Stark. How did that even-?

           Mr. Stark halted any escape attempts by holding him tighter, holding him down and securing Peter with a stern and serious gaze that only worked to make Peter feel even more nervous and anxious. Internally twitching as it felt like Mr. Stark could see through him like a mirror.

           “Did you get injured on patrol?” Peter furrowed a brow, but calmed slightly.

           “No… I haven’t gone on patrol since Tuesday.”  Truth was clean and clear on his tongue like a fresh spring. It brought some relief to the scalding poison that infected him through his previous toxic lies. Mr. Stark’s forehead seemed to crease as he mentally crossed possibilities off the list in his head. Peter was watching curiously until Tony’s eyes narrowed. A shot of apprehension tearing through Peter and down his spine. No. He didn’t know. He couldn’t.

           Did he?

           “When was the last time you ate?” Peter’s skin pale, blood rushing out as his skin turned nearly white as he registered the question. Nothing. He hadn’t eaten since school lunch yesterday. He’d missed lunch today by accident, he’d fallen asleep in the chemistry lab after class. Hadn’t he collapsed then too? It was fuzzy, all Peter remembered was rushing to get to his next class on time. Not knowing how long he’d been passed out. Shit. He couldn’t tell Mr. Stark that.

           “Uh… yesterday…” Mr. Stark’s gaze turned into a sharp reprimanding glare as Peter scrambled for an excuse. Nearly choking before he was able to fluidly speak again. The explanation leaving his lips as if it were nothing more than just words. “I didn’t mean to! I’ve just been studying non-stop for this physics exam today that was worth half our semester grade and it was right after lunch and I skipped so I could study and I woke up late today because I tried to pull an all-nighter which really didn’t work and I didn’t want to be late to class so I skipped breakfast cause I thought I was going to eat lunch and really I just was so nervous that eating got really hard and it was all super crazy.” Mr. Stark cut off his word vomit with a single look.

           “So, basically, you’re a stupid nerd that doesn’t know how to take care of yourself. God kid, you scared me when you took a swan dive to the floor. You can’t skip meals with your metabolism, it’s dangerous and god knows what could happen. What if you passed out while you we swinging around the city? We’d have a flat spider-man, a flat spider man is not something we want alright?” Tony shook his head, but didn’t look angry. Honestly, he looked more relaxed and relieved than angry. Probably was glad it wasn’t anything serious wrong. Or, unfixable. “I got Thai and soda in the kitchen, that should help your blood sugar. C’mon. Let’s get you up.”

           Peter scrambled to obey, swooning and having to lean a good deal of his weight on Tony. Who didn’t seem to even stumble under the teen’s weight, rather it was easy for him to help the lanky male along to the kitchen and sat him down. Shoving a soda into his hand with a gruff order to chug it. Which Peter obliged happily, it was sticky and sweet bubbling on his tongue with a pleasant familiarity. Peter never used to crave soda, he and Aunt May had it a lot so it was just another drink. But god, he had missed it so much. It had almost been like withdrawals going without it for three days. Easy enough to say he downed the whole bottle pretty quickly. Even without Mr. Stark’s directions of drinking it all before he ate. Tony staring intently as Peter filled his plate to make sure Peter didn’t pull his usual stunt on eating less out of embarrassment. (If anyone thought Tony didn’t notice how the kid could go from eating nearly a whole pizza by himself to eating only three slices and claiming he was full in front of people. They were stupid. He noticed fully well. And hated it.) Though, he was satisfied as Peter seemed too hungry to really give much mind to the insanity that was his enhanced metabolism and bottomless pit of a teenage boy’s stomach.

           The image of Peter falling limp to the floor like a ragdoll was still burned into his memories however. Replaying over and over again and harassing him. The picture was almost paralyzing, even after he’d sorted it out it was just Peter skipping a meal because he was anxious for a test. The knowledge did nothing. Peter’s body on the ground still and quiet scared him. It was like a slap to the face. The worry. The fact that even the thought of something being wrong with Peter had sent a terrified feeling being dumped like ice water into his veins. Adrenaline pumping to prove just how fast he could-would- run to catch the boy.

           Tony had to wonder if this was how parents felt every day. Even at fifteen with inhuman abilities and a multi-million-dollar suit with more system checks that Tony even had for himself he still had this constant gnawing concern and terror that only kept growing. Worse was that Tony was never getting used to it. And not minding it. Tony immediately gave Clint more props in his mind. Clint had little children. Tony had a teenager that was basically independent.

           Still, even seeing Peter wolf down Thai food like it was oxygen wasn’t easing the twitching anxiety. Peter in his arms, dead still and so pale in his arms. Nearly unresponsive for nearly ten minutes. It hit a little too close to home in Tony’s own insecurities and worries. That’s probably why the words left his lips before he could even stop them.

           “Peter, do you mind staying over night? We didn’t get to finish the upgrades and you look pretty dead on your feet. We can finish working on it tomorrow morning. Not to mention, I don’t even have a clue where Happy is and you can’t legally drive.” Peter looked at him curiously with those wide blue eyes and paused, Tony felt awkward and nervous all of the sudden, but hid it with a quirked brow and questioning gaze. Fake it ‘til you make it. The nervous dispelled immediately however as soon as Peter nodded thoughtfully.

           “It’s Friday so I should be fine. I just have to call and let May know where I’m staying, is that alright?” The overwhelming relief almost took Tony by surprise; he’d expected it to be a little more difficult to convince Peter to stay. He’d always insisted on being home with May. But Tony didn’t give that much mind as he just thanked whatever deity existed that he could keep on Peter for the night and make sure he was really alright. The thought was more comforting than Tony had even thought it could be. Besides, it wasn’t like Tony didn’t like when Peter stayed over. He actually enjoyed it a lot. Peter was smart, independent, he impressed Tony on almost a daily basis, and yet he still made Tony feel like he was needed. Human.

           Peter excused himself quickly, grabbing his phone from the counter space and dialing the number as he walked. The sinking feeling that Peter had braced for never came when he got sent to voice mail. Excitement was crowding out the rejection and loneliness. Mr. Stark invited him to stay at the Stark Tower. The Stark Tower. A science paradise. Nothing was stopping or choking him up as he excitedly rambled his message. It felt so, normal. Casual. Peter could almost believe it was just another day. That May was waiting for him to come for a movie night and Peter was just calling her to let her know he was staying at the tower and that he was safe.

           “Hey May, it’s Peter. Mr. Stark and I didn’t get to finish the project after all. But it was still really fun! We had Thai food and soda, and we started debating about my concept idea for energy conservation! Anyway, he offered to let me stay at the tower since its getting late and I was just calling you to let you know that I’m safe. Call me back when you can? Night May, love you.” Peter hung up the phone and walked back to the kitchen. Giving Mr. Stark a thumb’s up and the okay as he dropped his phone careless on the island. All the bad feelings forgotten with a full stomach and warm company as Peter and Tony fit themselves back into heated banter and shooting back and forth theories while poking holes in existing ones. The other finding satisfaction in finally finding someone that could keep up with the pace (Besides Bruce, but he was back at the lab in the compound). Before either of them even realized it evening had passed to give way into a deep night. Tony only noticing because of the fact even though Peter’s mouth was still running like a motor his eyes were sluggishly beginning to droop until eventually Tony finally didn’t get a reply when his back was turned. Looking and seeing Peter slumped on the table. Soft even breath leaving in quiet puffs and sighs from Peter’s mouth, making the teen’s back rise and fall in a steady rhythm. Tony rolled his eyes.

           If only he could fall asleep as fast as Peter. Tony dread the day when the inevitable would catch up to the teen. The horrors of being a hero. The twisted nightmares and terrors that would slowly corrupt the child like innocence Peter had. That black and white view of morality and justice. The excitement and awe that Peter still had when he looked at the simplest of things, when he was showed the simplest forms of kindness. Tony still remembered how Peter had almost burst into tears of happiness when Tony had simple bought him a new jacket. Peter had mentioned funds were tight in his house and his was nearly in shreds. A simple jacket. Something Tony had thirty of, and Peter nearly cried at being gifted one.

           Tony would protect that side of Peter with his life for as long as he could. Keep and bat the corruption away with his last breath if he had to. Anything to not see anything but happy tears in his kid’s eyes.

           He was just a kid.

           Kids shouldn’t be awake at night afraid of the ghosts in the past.

           Moving slowly and as quietly as he could-Peter was extremely sensitive in more than just the emotional sense, Tony’s breathing had even woken him up one time- But that wasn’t the case this time as Tony was able to adjust and manipulate the teen’s body easily into a solid grip. Carrying Peter like a child. It was mildly concerning when the light sleeper barely even shifted from all the jostling.

           Kid probably had a rough day.

           Tony held the kid tighter in his arm’s, not even straining under the weight. Peter had always been a little smaller than the rest. A little scrawnier, a little more lanky and skinny. But the kid more than made up for it in a personality much bigger than his body and a brain bigger than his skull. It wasn’t quite what you’d expect of a super hero, but Peter made it work. Being witty and agile with a deceiving strength. Tony could also appreciate it in times like this when it made helping Peter even just a little easier. Even a help as simple as tucking Peter into his impromptu room at the tower (Which would be customized as soon as Tony could get a hold of Pepper for a weekend-what did teenagers need in their rooms anyway?-he’d have to wing it).

           A plain bed was good enough for now however. Even if the sheer size of their bed practically swallowed Peter’s small frame, making him look even tinier in comparison. More vulnerable. It made Tony’s chest ache. If only he could shield Peter forever. He didn’t deserve to hurt or worry so much. Or beat himself up all the time over little things or blame himself so often. Peter needed to be softer on himself and stop pushing himself so hard.

           Shame Tony didn’t already know it was too late to shield him.

---

           It was crushing, his lungs felt like they were being caved in as the rubble pressed down hard on him. The pebbles digging into his back painfully, each breath only resulting in agony. And it only got worse each time his mouth let out a cry for help. Each cry also brought another tidal wave of dread and hopelessness to wash over him.

           No one would save him.

           No one cared enough to.

           His back stung and felt raw, blood dripping down. Then it was gone. The dig of pebbles and metal beams jabbing into his ribs. Though Peter wasn’t sure if he was surprised or not as it did little difference. The rubble lifting, yet the pain remaining, only burning with more intensity and anguish. The crushing didn’t end. The pain didn’t stop. It never did.

           Hopeless.

           The hurt never stopped, never would. It only got worse. Everything was so loud, even the beats of silence rang deafeningly in his ears. Screaming hurt. Crying hurt. Trying to get up hurt. Everything hurt and there was no end in sight.

           His eyes burned as he choked out another cry. The taste of dust and debris still weighing heavily in his mouth as he whimpered. “Mama!!! Ben! May! Papa!” Nothing stirred, not even the air. It was like he’d said nothing at all. There was nothing but never-ending dark. So quiet. So cold. Lonely. “May! Please!”

           “You killed my husband my wife, Peter. You tore this family apart.” The voice warbled between May’s low and disapproving tone and a deep accusing voice. It was familiar and venomous, with a gravelly and growling undertone that sent shudders down Peter’s aching spine. His heart stuttering and skipped. An uncontrollable sob ripped through Peter’s mouth, his body convulsing as he wept. Trembling in fear.

           “I’m sorry papa, I won’t be bad anymore. Please. I’m so sorry. It hurts make it stop. I’m sorry.” A voice picked up in pitch. The voice leaving his throat still cracked. The young voice sounded terrified and sad. Peter didn’t even recognize it as his own at first. Looking wildly around to see if someone needed help. Before realizing the only one that needed help was himself.

           “It’s your fault Peter! Admit it! You don’t help anyone. You did nothing. You couldn’t even stay out of the way. She’s dead! And it’s your fault.” A foot came down, a heavy boot crunching down onto the curve of his back, where a beam once had weighed heavily. He screamed.  The sound was damaging to his enhanced hearing, but there was nothing to be done about it as the sound didn’t cease. His mouth wouldn’t close or silence. So he ignored it, tuning out the screams and the aching in his throat. He was bleeding. It hurt. He was guilty. It hurt. Innocent people didn’t hurt like this.

           “It’s my fault papa. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. It’s my fault. I’m sorry.” He sobbed, but the feeling didn’t cease. The overwhelming feeling and suffocation only got worse. Ribs splintering and stabbing his lungs over again with fresh pain. Bones shattering into dust. He felt helpless, like he was a child again. No powers. No strength. No hope.

           He was choking on invisible debris now. Throat and tongue dry and constantly inhaling chalking dust. Everywhere hurt. Lashes marks and injuries peeling open and forcing his skin open agonizingly from an unseen weapon. And Peter could only whimper. He was doomed. He was dying. Drowning. Suffocating. And there was nothing he could do. He would just die. Just like he deserved.

           It was his fault.