Work Text
The cold numbed his fingers and ears, but the physical cold was nothing compared to the cold inside of him. The unbearable heaviness that pulled his heart down to the empty pit of his stomach, the whispers inside his head that reminded him of Uncle Ben, his mom, his dad, his Aunt May… It seemed that everyone who loved him died, or disappeared, or left him, or was killed, or was… he could go on. Its been exactly two days, three hours, forty-two minutes, and fifteen seconds since he last slept, and double that for the last time he ate. His superhuman metabolism definitely could not keep it up longer, but Peter couldn’t move from his house steps, wouldn’t, because he was waiting for someone to come home. Who, he didn't know, and maybe he didn’t care, because all he could think about was nothing and everything at the same time, blurry memories haunting him of everyone he loved, and maybe he was hallucinating but he swore that there were voices in his head telling him that he didn’t deserve anything, that that was why fate had been so cruel to him over the years.
Letting out a shaky breath, he gripped the sides of his head tightly, trying to stop the shaking, the way everything was swirling together, blending, distorting reality and the clutter of his mind. The dizziness followed him as he stood up suddenly, sending a sharp pain to his skull that made him bite his lip, hard. The taste of copper lingered in his mouth, and he leaned to the right and grasped onto the railing, shutting his eyes tightly.
Now everything wasn’t so cold anymore, he was warm. Hot, in fact, hot but cold at the same time, shivering but wanting strip off his jacket and scarf. So he did. No one was left to care if he was making the wrong decisions anyway. He slid back down onto the stone steps, knees trembling.
All of a sudden Spiderman seemed a trifling matter, like it didn’t matter, never did, and it was just depriving him of the time he should’ve spent with his family, his only family, the only person in the world who loved him as much as she did. And now she was gone. She was gone, and he had done nothing to help her, said nothing to her in her final moments, wasn’t even
there
for her as she passed.
Peter wasn’t aware that he was breathing too fast, gasping for air and squeezing his eyes shut, cold hands obstructing his vision. He pressed his palms into his eyes, seeing patterns in the darkness behind his eyelids. Seeing faces, seeing her, seeing him, seeing everyone who died because they were trying to protect him, or trying to help him, or because of him. Which was everyone. Peter let out a breathy laugh, pulling his hair with both hands as he questioned everything. His reason for existing, if he should want to exist after everything, if he should just end his life because that would be better for him, his one friend who moved away but still contacted him sometimes, and the Avengers that had nothing to do with him.
He clutched his stomach nauseously, another splitting headache starting, pangs of hunger torturing him. It felt too hot again. At some point he must have opened his eyes again, because black circles were dotting his vision, filling his sight with unwelcome darkness. Anxiety overwhelmed him as his senses went into overload, warning him of a danger he couldn’t see. Peter’s head lolled and rested against the railing before he went unconscious, somehow his body balancing him to keep him from tumbling down the stairs and into the rugged cement of his driveway.
Tony Stark hadn’t been sleeping at twelve in the night, but he was still bothered when the familiar tune of a ringtone interrupted his train of thought. He sighed and accepted the call from Jarvis, a crease in his eyebrows. If there was a call this late, it was important. He frowned at the phone number that appeared in the air. It traced back to the local hospital, which meant… Tony chewed his lip and took the call.
“Tony Stark here. Mind telling me why you’re calling? Chop chop, I have things to do and places to be.” That was a lie. He just didn’t feel like talking and wanted whoever was calling him to explain the situation quickly.
“Of course sir, we were just calling because uh…” -A short period of silence and the rustling of papers- “Peter… Parker? Was found unconscious due to dehydration, lack of proper food, sleep, and general care, and it turns out that his only remaining guardian just passed away about a week ago. As we didn’t have any files on him, we looked at his contacts list- because it was an emergency of course- and your number was near the top, so we took our chances. Apologies for the disturbance. Are you capable of acting as his guardian and taking him into custody? The police are here as well, and we’re about to call CPS.”
Tony’s lips were pressed into a thin line, and his hand was clenching and unclenching as he paced back and forth across his private bedroom, the movements trigerring an automatic restoration of the lights that had previously been turned off. His hands reached up and tugged at his hair in frustration. How could he have not known that Peter’s aunt passed away? And it was a week ago! Jarvis should have notified him. But then again, he had never given specific orders to inform him on any events regarding Peter… He stopped. Aunt May, the last guardian Peter had, died. Dead. Gone. Forever. And if he took Peter in, what would happen then? What if he died from a fight or something? What if he couldn’t take care of Peter properly, couldn’t be a real
dad
. It was more than likely. They’d be far from normal, with their constant involvement in dangerous situations. Peter wouldn’t want Tony. But- he needed
someone,
didn’t he? And Tony’s therapist had often told him that he needed more social involvement than business meetings and formal parties. It’s be a levitating experience for both of them. An experience that would last for Peter’s whole life. And what if Peter hated him? What then? What if-
A voice interrupted him for the second time that night. “Sir? Are you still there? We need an answer soon and-”
“Yes, I’m still here,” Tony said distractedly. “Listen, I’ll be at the hospital in like 45 seconds, okay?” He ended the call.
Tony suited up, and flew out a large automatic window, a GPS appearing in his vision.
“Where would you like to go?” Jarvis’s voice asked.
“Local hospital.”
“You’ll arrive in fifteen seconds.” Announced the AI.
Tony followed the blue lighting that formed the way to the hospital, and landed quickly in front of the entrance. He let out a deep breath and walked in.
Peter’s bleary eyes opened to focus on unfamiliar surroundings. Piercing white walls surrounded him, and his sterile environment included noisy machines that reminded him that his heart was still beating. A shame, he thought dazedly.
