I See Them

Moving On

This is it! The final chapter! It's more of an epilogue to wrap things up. Thank you so much to everyone who has stuck with me and this story:) You all rock!

Song for this chapter is Castles by Freya Ridings

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Soft beeping and cozy linen sheets that smelled of lavender gently welcomed Peter back into consciousness. He was in a hospital bed with the head propped up, so he was in a seated position. There were various machines connected to his small body. However, he only recognized the heart monitor clip on his index finger, his mind still too cloudy with sleep to distinguish any of the other medical equipment. An IV was attached to the back of his right hand, which, on any other day, probably would have unnerved him since he hated needles. But right now... he didn't feel stressed, anxious, or angry. All he felt was calm, a tranquility he never felt before. It was nice.

A muffled snore drew his attention to the left. Tony was sitting beside the bed in one of those uncomfortable plastic hospital chairs, the upper half of his body slumped over onto the bed. Tony's face was tucked into the crook of his elbow, the baggy fabric of his MIT hoodie dampening his snores. One hand firmly grasped Peter's.

Tony didn't appear to be injured, which did wonders to ease Peter's mind. One of Peter's biggest fears was that somehow, Tony would get hurt or killed because of him. That Tony would be gone, and he could never get back the man he saw as a father. Even if the Avengers decided to get rid of him, at least they would still be alive; Peter could still watch out for them. But seeing as he was in the Tower's medical wing with Iron Man beside him, Peter believed it was safe to assume that neither of his fears had come to fruition.

"Mr. Sta-" Peter's throat felt so dry, causing his voice to crack. Clearing his throat, he tried once again to get the mechanic's attention. "Mr. Stark." He squeezed the larger hand gently, hoping it would help pull the man back into consciousness. "Mr. Stark, are you okay?"

"Wha- Pete? Bambino!" Tony promptly sat up, blinking rapidly as his eyes adjusted to the hospital room's bright lighting. His deep-seated fear of Peter, never waking up, turned to relief as soon as he realized that Peter was awake and talking. No longer lying unconscious in a hospital bed that swamped his small form, his malnourished and battered body barely clinging to life. The drastic shift in emotions had the billionaire launching into nervous rambling, unsure of what to say or do.

"Holy shi- Ah shoot. I'm so glad you're okay! We're all so glad you're okay." Without hesitating, Tony wrapped his arms around the teen, carefully so as not to disturb any of Peter's wounds, and pulled him against his chest. "Oh, Peter," he spoke against the fluffy curls tickling his cheek, "you scared the living shit outta us. Ya know that?"

Reluctantly, Tony released the teen after a few minutes and returned to his hard seat, never releasing his hold on Peter's hand, their fingers entwined. Peter looked much better than he did five days ago. The nutrients being given through the IV helped to jumpstart his healing factor and rapidly speed up his recovery. He was no longer as pale as the sheets he rested on, his cheeks dusted with a soft-pink hue. Most of his smaller scrapes and bruises were healed entirely, and his more extensive injuries were steadily mending. Keeping his weight up would always be an issue because of his metabolism. His body mass was already way too low due to abuse and being kidnapped. But it was something they could work on. With lots of food, rest, and support, Peter would recover just fine.

"How are you feeling? Any pain? Are you thirsty or hungry?" Tony asked in rapid succession, hardly taking a breath in between words. "Dr. Cho said you would definitely be hungry, so I can tell FRIDAY to call Steve and I have water here so-"