Hey, Little Spider || Peter Parker One-Shots

Dodgeball

A/N: Let's just say Civil War never happened, but Peter and Tony met and stuff.

***

Peter was having a terrible day.

He had woken up late - his alarm being broken - which meant he only had 10 minutes to get ready for school. He'd barely managed to get out the door with messy hair, mismatched socks, and a half-eaten apple stuffed into his mouth.

When he'd arrived at school, Flash had shoved him over on the way to homeroom, which meant he'd missed attendance. Once he'd gone to the front office to sign a tardy form, he'd realized he was late for English.

Nothing really bad had happened until lunch, when Flash had 'accidentally' tripped him, sending his lunch cascading to the ground. It had gotten all over the floor, as well as on his shirt, pants, and shoes.

Then, all of the laughter, aromas from his lunch, and bright, fluorescent lights had caused a minor sensory overload. He'd had to spend the rest of lunch cleaning off his clothes, but the dim lighting and silence of the bathroom had somewhat helped his growing headache.

Needless to say, Peter hadn't eaten lunch that day.

Finally, Peter had stumbled into P.E. five minutes late with a migraine and a growling stomach, only to discover that they had a sub, so they were playing dodgeball.

Great. Just great.

Peter had hated dodgeball even before the spider bite, but ever since then, it had been so much worse. The too-bright gym lights, mixed with the screams of his classmates and his spidey-sense acting up because of all of the balls flying everywhere made the game pure torture for Peter. And that was when he had a clear head and a full stomach.

Usually, his tactic was to stand in the back and hope nobody noticed him. And usually, that tactic worked. Today, however - because his day just had to get worse - Flash noticed him cowering behind his teammates. Flash, being Flash, saw the need to comment on it.

"Yo Penis," Flash yelled, "Too stupid to remember how to play dodgeball? Hiding isn't allowed!" When Peter didn't react, Flash turned to their substitute teacher.

"Hey!" he yelled, gesturing wildly to get her attention, "Peter's cheating! Tell him he has to come up and participate!"

Peter knew she'd make him do it. After all, Flash's father was a rich, influential man. Flash was basically the king of the school.

"Peter," Their teacher called in a monotone voice, "You have to participate."

Oh, how he wished Ned and MJ were here. They'd stand up for him. But Ned was out sick, and MJ was on a family trip to Colorado.

Head pounding, Peter managed to make his way closer to the center of the gym. He somehow grabbed a ball on the way, which was rather shocking, seeing as he was nearly blind.

Suddenly, Peter's senses erupted as a barrage of balls cascaded towards him.

He didn't know when he hit the ground, but Peter found himself curled in a fetal position as what felt like hundreds of balls rained down on him. Every small impact felt like a bomb exploding against his skin. Every breath his classmates took sounded like someone screaming in his ears. He could hear every heartbeat in the room, and see the painful glow of the lights beneath his tightly closed eyelids. It was too much. Everything was too much-

It felt like years passed before the balls stopped. Peter didn't dare get up, though; he knew that the second he uncovered his ears and opened his eyes, he would be deafened and blinded. He knew that the moment he moved anything more than what it took to breathe, the rustling of his clothes would feel like knives piercing his skin.

So Peter stayed. He waited in agony, wishing it would all be over.

***

Peter must have blacked out, because when he opened his eyes, he saw he was in the nurse's office with no recollection of having moved. That is, the quick glance he got before he slammed his eyes shut again looked like the nurse's office.

"Ah, there you are, honey," he heard a woman say. He knew she was trying to speak softly, but she might as well have screamed in his ear for all the good that did. "I'm gonna have to call someone to pick you up. See, you've got two emergency contacts listed. Should I call ... May Parker?"

As much as it hurt, Peter violently shook his head. May was at work, earning whatever money she could to keep them going. It wasn't fair to pull her out of doing the thing she loved just to take care of him. He couldn't do that to her.

"Well then," the nurse said, sounding slightly amused, "Should I call ... 'Tony Stark'?"

Peter managed a slight nod. The nurse could skepticize all she wanted - if she called (and he answered), it would be Tony Stark on the end of that line.

She walked into another room, but Peter could still hear their conversation as clearly as if they were standing next to him.

Tony answered on the second ring.

"Hello?" Peter felt something in his chest uncoil slightly at the sound of his mentor's voice.

"Are you ... Tony Stark?"

"Why yes, I am. And you are?"

"Um, I'm the nurse at Peter Parker's school. You are listed as one of his emergency contacts. Would it be possible for you to come pick Peter up? I'm afraid he's sick."

"Right away." Tony answered, terminating the call.

***

In roughly 5 minutes, Peter heard shoes clicking briskly down the hallway. Then the door swung open, and Tony rushed over to him.

"What's wrong, kid? You never get sick."

Peter smiled slightly at the worry coloring his mentor's voice. It was nice to know he cared. However, even that small action made his skull pound, and he flinched, squeezing his eyes shut again.

"Ah," Tony murmured, "Senses acting up again?"

When Peter didn't reply, the man fished around in his bag. Peter winced; even the small action was far too loud for his sensitive ears. Finally, Tony pulled out a pair of noise-cancelling headphones, and slipped them over the boy's head. Reaching back into the bag, Tony retrieved some extra dark sunglasses, which he slid onto Peter's face.

The young superhero instantly relaxed. He uncurled slightly, and the tension in his limbs slowly faded. Satisfied, Tony stood up, and exchanged some words with the nurse.

***

After signing Peter out, Tony roused the boy for the short walk to the car. Luckily, it was just before the period ended, so the hallway was quiet and empty. Peter stumbled along, wincing at the residual pain in his head. Tony only had a light hold on his shoulder, knowing anything more would be painful.

Once the pair had reached the car, Tony guided Peter into the back, then slid into the driver's seat.

"FRIDAY," he muttered, "Initiate 'Sensory Overload Protocol'."

Instantly, a barrier went up between seats, and all of the windows in the back darkened. The soundproof walls activated, so Tony could have a conversation in the front without Peter hearing anything.

Tony glanced back to see the teenager sleeping peacefully. Satisfied, he hit the gas, headed for home.

A/N: 1180 words. I just realized that all of my one-shots so far have been kinda depressing; what's the deal with that, self?

Have a wonderful day :)