When Peter woke up, he glanced at the clock, momentarily believing he’d slept through his weekend lie-in before remembering it *was* the weekend. He’d been awake now, and sleep wouldn’t return. He stood and walked into the living room where Tony and Steve were talking.
“…like an immature little kid,” he heard Steve say as he entered.
“Who’s an immature little kid?” Peter asked, sitting beside Tony. His attention was drawn to the news report playing on the television. It detailed how Spider-Man had been missing for over a year.
“Spider-Man. I think that’s all he is,” Steve said, standing up, still clad in his pajamas. “I’m going to get changed.”
Peter felt a wave of anxiety. What would happen if they discovered his secret?
“You alright, Pete? Want some breakfast…?” Tony asked, checking his watch. “Lunch, I mean.”
“No, not hungry,” Peter mumbled, hugging his legs, head resting on his knees.
“You should eat. You’ve barely touched anything since you got here,” Tony said, concern creeping into his voice.
“I’m fine. You don’t need to worry,” Peter said, lifting his head, his eyes bloodshot.
“Well, I do. You know you can talk to us. We won’t judge you, alright?” Tony asked, moving closer and pulling Peter into a hug.
“Yeah, okay. But I really am fine,” Peter said, leaning into Tony’s embrace. He knew he wouldn’t talk, he knew things weren’t getting better for him.
•••
Tony and Steve, after three weeks of fostering Peter, realized they knew very little about him. They decided to treat him to ice cream, hoping to foster a closer bond.
Peter soon began to feel safe with them, the initial panic slowly fading.
“You can call us dad, if you want,” Tony offered, hoping for a positive response.
“And pops?” Peter asked, smiling at Steve.
“Yeah, I’m definitely pops,” Steve replied, grinning.
“I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to ask you all to leave. We’re closing up for the night,” a girl said, collecting empty tubs, then gesturing to the few remaining patrons.
•
Back home, Tony led Peter down to his lab, where he was working on a new suit.
“Alright, as much as I love Steve, I don’t trust him to help me with this. Do you wanna help?” Tony asked, hoping to connect with Peter.
“Wait, you want *my* help?” Peter asked, surprised.
“Of course.”
While working on the suit, Tony wanted to talk, but struggled to find the right approach. They worked in silence, broken only by music, until Peter spoke.
“Tony, do you think Wade could come over tomorrow?”
“Your boyfriend?” Tony asked, smiling.
“He’s not my boyfriend,” Peter said, his voice lacking conviction.
“Seems like it. Yeah, of course,” Tony said, smiling wider. “Steve’s probably gonna want to know before he walks in the door, so maybe talk to him.”
“Like now…?”
“Go for it. It’s nearly dinner time anyway.”
Peter left the lab, putting down his tools, and jogged upstairs to the living room where Steve was reading.
“Hey pops, can I talk to you?”
“Yeah, what’s up?” Steve asked, smiling, putting his book down. Peter sat beside him.
“I already asked Tony and he said yes, but said to talk to you before just walking in.”
Steve looked at him, confused.
“My uhh…my friend is coming over tomorrow,” Peter paused, glancing towards the door. “Tony keeps saying he’s my boyfriend.”
“That’s fine with me, and you know it’s okay if he is your boyfriend.”
“I know it’s okay.”
Steve smiled before a ding from the cooker alerted them. “Do you want to go tell Tony that dinner’s ready?”
Peter ran downstairs, racing Tony up the stairs. Tony won, pushing Peter into the wall as he neared the top.
They sat down at the table, laughing, as Steve brought out dinner: spaghetti and meatballs.
It looked and tasted great, but Peter felt a familiar dread creep over him. He hadn't even eaten a quarter of his plate before nausea threatened to overwhelm him.
“Sorry, I’ve got to go,” Peter said suddenly, bolting from the room and running to the bathroom, closing the door and vomiting into the toilet.
Tony rushed to check on him, knocking on the door. He heard Peter shout, “Go away!”
Peter didn’t want Tony to see him like this. He slumped against the bathtub on the bathroom floor.
“Peter, are you okay?” Tony asked softly.
“No,” Peter whispered, his voice barely audible. Tony opened the door and saw Peter on the floor, crouching down in front of him.
“What happened?” Tony asked, placing a hand on Peter’s forehead.
“Just don’t feel well, I’ll be fine,” Peter said, trying to stand, feeling dizzy.
Peter almost fell, and Tony caught him, realizing how light he was. *That* was something to address later. He walked with Peter to his bed as Steve appeared in the doorway.
“You alright?” Steve asked from the frame.
“I’m fine,” Peter said, “and I’m not tired.”
“Peter, you were just sick. Come on, get some rest,” Tony said, pulling back the covers.
“No, not tired,” he said, walking towards his desk.
“Come on,” Tony turned around.
“See you in a minute, Tones,” Steve said before heading back out awkwardly.
“Sorry.”
“It’s alright, kid,” Tony said, sitting on Peter’s bed, noticing blood on the pillowcase. “Peter, what is this?”
*Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit,* Peter thought, staring at Tony, unable to speak.
“Peter, is this what I think it is?” Tony asked, fear creeping into his voice. Peter hesitated, then nodded. “Why?”
“I don’t know,” Peter said, looking at the floor. “I’m sorry, Mr. Stark.”
“Tony. Or dad. Mr. Stark makes me feel old. And don’t say sorry. I get it. It feels like an impossible thing to talk about. I don’t understand what you’re going through, or what you’ve been through, but this is one thing I do understand. I’m here if you ever need to talk. Whether it’s about this, or something else, you can talk to me.”
“I’ll try,” Peter said, attempting a smile. “What do you mean you understand this?”
“I uhh… I used to. It helped for a while, then it wasn’t enough. I started drinking too. When things started getting better, I tried to stop. I still slip up sometimes, but not nearly as bad as it used to be,” Tony said, watching Peter intently. “You can get past this, kid. I believe in you.”
Peter looked up at Tony’s last comment and smiled. No one had ever believed in him before. He stayed silent, unable to find the words to respond.
“You’re welcome down in the lab whenever. Come down, be around people. You don’t have to talk, but being with others helps when the urges come. I know you like reading, so try that. Meet up with your friends like Wade. Just distract yourself. That’s probably the best thing you can do.”
“Okay, I’ll try,” Peter said, smiling, then leaning over and hugging Tony. “Thank you.”
“I know you haven’t really spoken to him about this like you have me. But Steve helps me a lot with this. I know he’d help you too,” Tony said, hugging him tightly. “I’m gonna finish dinner and help Steve clean up. You hungry?”
“No, not really,” Peter said, not wanting to leave Tony’s arms.
“If you get hungry, or need one of us, come down or ask Friday to get one of us. That okay?” Tony asked before standing up.
“Yeah, that’s fine,” Peter said, smiling up at him before Tony left.
•
Steve and Tony finished eating and cleaning up. Steve was asleep in bed, and Tony was in the lab, almost 3 am, still not tired. He was working on the suit he and Peter had been collaborating on.
“Boss, it appears Mr. Parker is having another nightmare,” Friday informed him, as if programmed to do so.
Tony stopped instantly and ran to Peter’s room. He opened the door to see Peter’s covers almost fully on the floor, sweating, tears staining his cheeks, whispering something he couldn’t hear.
“Peter, wake up. It’s just a nightmare,” he said, walking to the side of the bed. “Peter!” Peter opened his eyes suddenly, jumping slightly, hyperventilating.
“Hey, it’s alright, you’re okay. It was just a nightmare, it’s not real,” Tony said softly.
“Bu…but it…it was,” Peter said, crying more.
“You’re okay, you’re safe now,” Tony said, unsure what to do, sitting on the edge of the bed. Peter fell into Tony’s arms, sobbing.