Peter Parker Whump/Irondad :)

19. Nightmares and Panic Attacks

  His ankle started throbbing as the metal grip around it tightened. Wind blew past his face, barely letting him open his eyes fully. He was being pulled up by someone--or something, his arms flailing around and panic. He looked up and saw two green, lifeless dots staring down at him.

The city under him was getting smaller and smaller until he was dropped.

He started falling, head-first, closer and closer to the lake. He spun around somehow and looked around the black sky for the dots, but they were nowhere in sight.

Automatically, the emergency parachutes emerged from his suit. They did more bad than good, though, wrapping around him and tangling around his arms and legs, restricting his movement and vision. He pursed his lips together, not wanting to scream and make the situation worse.

It felt like he had been falling forever, and had almost forgotten why he was panicking until the nape of his neck and upper back hit something.

Hard.

He lost all sense of direction as his vision went black for a couple of seconds. Before he knew it, he was soaking wet, kicking and paddling through the icy water to reach the surface. His throat stung as he accidentally took in a deep breath of water. He felt it go in down his throat and through his nose and plug his ears.

All he could hear were his muffled struggles and rapid heartbeat.

Right when he was about to pass out, the metal claw grasped at his foot once more and yanked him out. He coughed and gasped for air, suddenly getting dizzy as the ground and water under him warping in his vision.

He shivered as the cold air further froze the water that remained soaked in his suit.

He was carried somewhere before he was dropped again.

He landed harshly and something hard. Thankfully, it wasn't water, but the feeling and rotten smell of the place brought back memories he'd tried so hard to bury up. Grasping at his aching chest, he stumbled to his feet.

He was in a warehouse.

No... Not again...

He turned and ran towards the exit, his limp slowly disappearing as the only thing in his mind was "getoutgetoutgetout-".

He tripped on his feet and cursed before a gut-wrenching feeling rose in his skull.

He squeezed his eyes shut and cried out as a heavy piece of debris collapsed on top of him. More metal and concrete surrounded him, some landing dangerously close to his head. At that point, he wished they would, so it would all be over.

But still, as if instinctively, his hands found their way over his head, as if they would be any help if a giant piece of concrete fell over them.

His scream echoed in the remains of the warehouse as a havier piece fell on top of him, further applying excruciating pressure on his ribs and legs. He ripped his mask off, grasping at the floor, trying desperately to crawl free.

A weak sound came from his throat, a mix between a cough and a sob.

"No, no, no, please, not again," he cried out, his voice hoarse from not only sucking in so much water but from barely being able to breathe properly. 

"Help! I'm stuck! I- I can't move- I can't breathe!" He tried to yell out, frantically grabbing at a pole sticking out of some debris in front of him. He pulled but screamed again when the rubble on top of him shifted, knocking the air out of him.

His vision warped, and black dots covered his view. He took in a sharp intake of breath and a rattling, painful cough came in return. He let his head rest against the floor and closed his eyes.

*

His eyes snapped open and he sat up, gasping desperately for the relieving air that filled his lungs. He closed his eyes, hugging his legs close to his chest, not wanting the Vulture to grab him again. He rocked back and forth, unable to hold back a few terrified cries.

He tried to breathe in, to calm his nerves, but it didn't help. He was sure the tight grasp on his legs would leave red marks, but he couldn't care less.

He didn't want to be taken away.

He felt someone place a hand on his shoulder, to which he flinched and tried to pull away. He opened his eyes but still saw the collapsed warehouse around him. Someone grabbed both his shoulders, but he stayed still as his spidey-senses weren't going off at the contact.

He squeezed his eyes shut again, hoping for the vision to go away, for the lung-crushing feeling to go away. When he opened them, he immediately saw someone's lower body sitting in front of him, on his bed.

He looked up and saw Tony, a concerned look on his face. Peter was still panted as he looked around. He was in his room. Not the warehouse. Not drowning.

"Kid?" Tony spoke, breaking the growing silence between the two. Peter's gaze shot back to meet Tony's. He quickly wiped his tears and sniffled.

"I'm fine, Mr. Stark, just a nightmare," he muttered, leaning back in his bed. Tony gave him a look that read 'I don't believe you one bit'.

"I'm pretty sure it wasn't just a nightmare kiddo, you wanna talk about it?"

Peter broke the eye contact and looked down at his hands. He slowly shook his head, not wanting to look up.

"Well, when you're ready, you come to me, alright? Bottling up everything doesn't help," Tony replied, his gentle grasp on Peter's shoulder not faltering. Peter tried to fake a cough to cover up an incoming sob, but failed miserably.

He threw himself onto Tony's chest and let it all out. How exhausted he was all the time from having to juggle school and Spider-Man and being sleep deprived on top of that.

He was just so tired.

So he cried. He cried into Tony's shoulder who slowly rubbed Peter's back. After a while, and Peter's sobs turned into quiet sniffles, Tony spoke, a pinch of joy in his voice.

"Want some ice-cream?"

*

A/N: some emotional whump for y'all :)

-Lara