Nightmares

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Spooktober.04


"Pete, do you have that project you're supposed to showcase tonight?" Tony asked, looking up from his work.

Peter froze. "...What project?"

Tony frowned and set his pen down. "Peter, the project you're supposed to have done? The one you've been supposed to be working on for months?"

Peter didn't remember any project. Anxiety courses through his veins. He shakes his head. "I..I don't know about any project—"

"That was the one thing I could count on you for," Tony said, his voice heavy with disappointment. It sunk Peter's heart further.

"I—I'm sorry, I-I didn't know, I swear," Peter said quickly.

"Sorry doesn't cut it, kid! What am I going to show them?" Tony frowned. "You know what—Actually, nevermind. You can go home."

"Wh-What? Why?" Peter stuttered.

"Because. I should have known better than to let you back on the team. You can never learn to grow up, can't you Peter?!" Tony stepped closer to Peter. "You're still the scrawny little kid from Queens who you KNOW isn't good enough for this. For Stark Industries. For /me/."

A lump grew in Peter's throat, but he refused to cry. Not here. "I'm sorry," he said, any other words failing him.

Because he was sorry. He felt an incredible guilt on his shoulders every time Tony had praised him about something in the past. He doesn't deserve the praise. And now he had ruined Tony's presentation and Tony finally would realize that Peter isn't nearly as qualified as Tony thought he was.

"Peter, I don't want your apologies! I want your presentation. Get it done. Now. The presentation is in a few hours."

Peter scrambles to his desk, working on a project he didn't even know about. He didn't even know what he was reading or writing. His heart was pounding with fear so he didn't ask what the presentation would be on.

The papers blurred together and in the blink of an eye, Peter was standing in front of a burning building.

More importantly, it was Avengers tower. People were banging on the doors, terror in every feature of their face.

Peter sprinted forward, pulling at the doors. They wouldn't budge. He looked up at the people to calm them down, even though he was still frightened himself.

Pepper was behind the doors, holding Morgan with on arm and pounding on the door with her other.

Peter's eyes widened and he frantically kept trying to force the doors open.

"PETER! PETER, PLEASE OPEN THE DOOR." Pepper sobbed. "PETER, OPEN THE DOOR!"

"I—I CAN'T DO IT, I CAN'T—" Peter shouted back, using all of his strength. The door didn't budge.

The last thing he heard before his vision was plunged into darkness was Morgan's piercing cries for help.

And then he was floating in the darkness, not quite present and not quite absent. All he could sense was the sinking feeling of dread and anxiety. But still, he floated on.

Then the floating got more painful.

Suddenly he was trapped in the darkness, with shouts and loud ambulance sirens wrapping around him, squeezing him until he couldn't breathe. He shook, trying to break free from the noise. Nothing worked.

Everything was too much. The darkness kept squeezing. He felt crowded. The sounds kept drowning on, making his head buzz. Peter sobs.

He's being shook now, not of his own accord. Peter's eyes snap open, jumping out of his skin and as far away as he can from whoever shook him awake.

His mind is still buzzing, and he can't see a thing. It's still dark. Something in the back of his head tells him it's because the lights off, idiot. He's too out of it to listen.

In fact, he can't listen to anything, and yet he's listening to everything at the same time. The cars outside. A light flickering on, not the one in his room. The fridge opening. The rustling of sheets. The flipping of paper. His heartbeat, beating impossibly fast; badumbadumbadumbadum—

"Hey, kiddo." Tony's voice spoke in a soft voice. It contrasted on such a huge scale that it knocked everything back into place. Peter stopped and focused on him. "Rough night, huh?"

Peter nodded a little. Tony settled next to Peter, stretching his legs out. "Yeah, Morgan had a nightmare too. Must be a bad night for nightmares."

Peter only nods again in response, still coming to the realization that what he just experienced was a nightmare. A figment created in his imagination. False, yet so real.

"Is she okay?" Peter says with a weak voice. He has tears still running down his cheeks.

"Who, Morgan?" Tony asks, despite knowing already. "Yeah, she's sleeping. As you should be."

He pokes Peter in the chest, and Peter slumps back under the covers. "Sorry," Peter murmurs.

Tony doesn't ask him if he wants to share about his night terrors. This isn't his first rodeo. Wait until the next morning, then if he'd like, Peter will come out on his own and say what his nightmare was about. So instead he says something else.

"It's fine, Pete. You're okay."

The words mean more to him than Peter would ever like to admit.

Tony leans over and pulls the covers back over Peter, tucking him in tightly. "Gnight, Underoos. Sleep tight."

"Wait—" Peter says quickly. Tony looks down at him, and Peter speaks shyly. "..Do you think you could stay with me? Just until I fall asleep."

Tony nods, used to requests like this. Of course he is. Peter reminds himself silently that Tony is a father now, an actual father with an actual biological child. Tony sits back down on Peter's bed, just sitting there. He starts to talk again.

"Yknow, one time in MIT—" Tony starts his story, and Peter listens to as much as he can until he falls asleep again.

Tony kisses his temple. "Have good dreams, kiddo."

He doesn't have any more nightmares that night.

His dad is there to protect him.

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