Reconcile › P. Parker [2]

015. the final breaking point

› CHAPTER FIFTEEN ‹
[content warning:
anxiety attack
PTSD episode ]

Raleigh sat by himself at a table while Happy tended to Peter's wounds to his left. His elbows dug into the table, where he hid hide his face behind his hands. And behind those bloodied and bruised hands was a just as damaged face. Some of the injuries Happy had managed to relieve with ointment, while others required minor stitching (the split on his chin), but the icepack Happy had given him for his messed up shoulder had long since been forgotten. It currently resided to his right, where it melted onto the tabletop.

Everything had been blurring together for Raleigh from the moment Happy helped both him and Raleigh onto the private aircraft. Peter did all of the talking, seeing as Raleigh had essentially shut down. He explained the best he could about Quentin Beck, about the falsity of Mysterio, the illusions, E.D.I.T.H., and the danger their friends were in, but neither brought up the nightmare they had just been put through, even though it was clearly weighing on their minds. Happy did his best to follow, and whether he truly understood the gravity of what Quentin was capable of, he didn't question them further.

"Ouch." Peter flinched as Happy brought a clean suture needle to the back of his neck, where a nasty cut continued to bleed.

"I thought you had super strength," Happy said as he squinted at his work.

"It still hurts..." Peter mumbled. His hands unintentionally balled into fists as Happy curved the needle through his skin another time. "Happy, come on."

"All right, relax." Happy pulled the needle to his eyes. "Just a few more. There we go."

"Oh my God!" Peter slammed his fist onto the tabletop, and the noise alerted Raleigh, who shifted his palms further into his eyes.

"Relax." Happy tried again to calm Peter's racing nerves, but it caused Peter to jump to his feet.

"Don't tell me to relax, Happy!" He waved his hands as tears threatened to run down his cheeks. "How can I relax when I messed up so bad? I trusted Beck. Right. I thought he was my friend. So I gave him the only thing that Mr. Stark left behind for me, and now he's gonna kill my friends and half of Europe, so please do not tell me to relax."

Peter slumped onto the chair in front of Raleigh and ran his hands through his hair. "I'm sorry, Happy. I'm sorry. I shouldn't shout." He sat up and shook his head. "I just really miss him."

"Yeah, I miss him, too." Happy admitted.

Happy's voice lowered into a soft pitch, a sound Raleigh had only heard from Happy at Tony's funeral, when they were finally reunited after the effects of Thanos. Raleigh's neck ached as his nose and throat burned, and he forced his head further into his hands, striving to push back his senses.

"Everywhere I go... I see his face." Peter's voice was thick with grief, and the sound seemed to pound against his eardrums, matching with the pulsating within his chest. "And the whole world is asking who's gonna be the next Iron Man... And I don't know if that's me, Happy. I'm not Iron Man."