The Patient's Painkiller is a Psycholologist

Chapter 47

Well… This was not what Peter had thought his week would go at all.

“I hate that our first talk has to be about this, I was really looking forward to talking with you in person” Mr Stark sighed, hand massaging his forehead

As soon as Peter had felt better, he was sent home, forced to have another week of rest. It gave him a sense of deja vu, if he were to be honest but, as frustrated as he was, he couldn't find it in himself to be upset with how Ellie excitedly spoke about her time with her father, told a million times in a million different ways.

“You understand I don't mean this in any ill way, right?” Stark asks, the wide window behind with blinds open, letting the light through and shadow casting him from Peter’s vision.

His office was bright and, just like any other part of this building, pristine white like his teeth. Peter sat in front of the man, his boss, the offered coffee forgotten and cold as he remained unmoving.

“I’ll let you go” he says with a sigh, a hint of worry present in the way his brows crease “you seem like you need some time to think”

With that, Peter sat now at home, a day before he returned to work, with a heavy feeling in his stomach. He feels uncertain and a sense of dread washing over him that he can’t comprehend.

Such conversation was logical and necessary, Peter took no offense to his boss’ words- in fact, he admires the man for taking the first approach to speak about it.
It shouldn’t affect Peter. Peter had read between the lines’ lines, logically thinking, this shouldn’t affect not in the least- not at all.

Why is it then…that he feels as though he is back on the school playground, waiting for something that won’t ever return?

Why does he feel so abandoned when nothing has left him as of yet?

The next morning, Peter arrives late. He takes Ellie to school just as the bell rings and rushes to work. He does not have to wait until his alarm rings, indicating it is the time to speak with Wade…

and again, there is that looming dread. The anxiety around every shadowed corner.

“Are you okay?”

Jumping, Peter looks up from the blank page he had been staring at for the past minute, most likely having picked up his trusty notebook to note something Wade had done or said. He stares at the blank lenses looking at him and feels as though he is the one being observed for once. It’s nerve wracking because for once Peter fears he cannot mask his emotions.

“Yes, sorry” he chuckles at how absurd he is being, setting down the notebook and pen in exchange of taking his clean glasses to wipe on his knitted blouse, just so he has something to focus on “just a bit distracted today, is all”

Wade hums and Peter hates how he can tell the man does not believe him, how he can read Peter just as much.

“Where were we?” Peter clears his throat as he puts his glasses back on, forcing a smile that he knows is not the one he practiced.

Wade only remains quiet, nodding a moment too late before his head turns down to his own book, Peter knows his eyes aren’t on the book though.

“You can talk to me” he says, voice low and comforting

“That isn’t your job” Peter replies before he can think better of it, the last syllable stuck in his throat with a small gasp of regret

Lifting his head, Wade’s lenses are wide in surprise, looking over Peter in new light certainly. Peter feels his hands sweat where they rest on his lap, uncomfortably warm as he watches the large man’s shoulder hunch.
He bites the inside of his cheeks, wanting to apologize for his reply, that he had not meant anything bad by it, that he doesn't only speak to Wade because it's his job to do so.