Tangled (Irondad Spiderson)

19: Empty

(A few days later...)
Peter's POV:

Things were going okay at the tower. It was quite surprising to me. I had Tony help me with telling the hundreds of interviewers that I need time before I can take all of this on.

Because it IS a lot. And as much as I hate to admit it, I am still a kid. In no way am I prepared to take all of this on at the moment. Especially with how my depression has been lately.

I've been sleeping most of the day away, and haven't really been eating much. MJ says she's worried about me. I told her that I'm okay, just tired from patrol most of the time.
I think she's buying into it.

After laying in thought for a while, I snap out of it when I suddenly feel nauseous. I sit up, tried to relax, but the nausea grew more intense by the second. I stood up shakily, and stumbled to my bathroom. I opened the toilet and prepared for the worst.

I gagged and gagged for about twenty seconds straight. Nothing came out. It was the worst feeling. After calming myself down, and sitting by the toilet for a while, I felt well enough to stand. I pushed myself up, and passed the mirror.
I was pale, with bags under my eyes and my features were sunken in. I looked dead.

I noticed I was drenched in sweat, so I took off my shirt and was just left in my PJ bottoms.
My curly mop was an absolute mess, so I tried brushing it for the first time in days. Combing my fingers through it, I felt several strands tangle through my hands and come out with ease. I quickly threw the clumps of hair away, my heart beating out of my chest.

What's happening to me?

I drag myself to the kitchen and see Tony in the nearby living room watching TV.

"Sounds like somebody finally got out of-"
Tony turned to look at me.

"Peter? Are you okay?"
I walked to the couch and sat next to him.

"I-I don't know. I woke up feeling nauseous, and started gagging. It feels like I'm going t-to pass out."
I somehow manage to get my message across.

Tony walks me to medical area and sat me down on a comfy chair.

"Give me a finger."
He says.
I gave him my right pointer finger and he gives it a small prick. I didn't even flinch. He uses this weird device that took some of the blood off, then he wrapped up my finger in an Iron Man band-aid.

He looked at the device until it beeped.

"Kid, when was the last time you ate?"
He looked at me with concern.

"Uh....I-I think it was, um... friday? I had a slice of leftover pizza."

"Jesus kid, no wonder your blood sugar is low! You haven't eaten in days!"
I give him a shocked look.

"What? Wait, what day is it?"
I ask.

"Wednesday. 3:15PM. You need to eat."
Tony walks me back to the kitchen and sits me down at the island. The next thing I know, I have a sandwhich on my plate with some applesauce and apple juice.
I sigh, knowing that I'm not hungry, but also knowing he won't let me go without eating.

"I suggest starting with the apple juice. It'll raise your blood sugar and get rid of the nausea. And if the sandwich is too much I can give you crackers and a banana instead. But you have to eat as much as you can. What's been going on with you lately?"
Tony has never looked so worried for me. At least not in a long time.
I sigh, drinking the apple juice.

"I don't know. I'm just feeling really sad. Depressed is probably a better word for it. I just don't have any energy or motivation. It's hard to explain..."
I began with the applesauce, then took small bites of the sandwich.