If They Knew All About You

Pain and Priorities

Peter had tried to rest, tried to sleep, but sleep didn't really want to come. The room was bright and empty. It was just him and his thoughts. That was never a good combination. It left him to overthink things and there was nobody more skilled at overthinking stuff than Peter Parker.

He tried to make some sense of the things that had happened to him, the kidnapping as well as getting rescued. He didn't remember all that much from how he had even gotten himself in that situation. Only that it was close by the Tower and that his senses had been flaring up. He had thought that it had just been his nerves and emotions messing with them, that he was just worried about how to apologize to Mr. Stark, but, well... he'd been wrong about that it seemed. They must have been there waiting, but why for him? Had they suspected that he was Spider-Man? Was his secret out there?

Had that been the reason why the Rogues had shown up? Did they know, too? Maybe they hadn't been there to help at all. Why would they ever help him? He wasn't even sure if he'd want their help. Not after what they had done to Mr. Stark.

Peter's stomach turned. He still hadn't apologized to Mr. Stark either and he hated himself for it. He had messed up so bad, on so many levels. The fact that Miss Potts was here, at the Compound... that couldn't be a coincidence either.

There was a little prickle at the back of his neck before it happened. Not as strong as his senses would usually react but strong enough that his eyes darted to the door as it was slowly pushed open. Peter swallowed hard as they stepped into the room. Mr. Stark had his mask in place, the one he'd put on during interviews. That face that Peter had rarely seen on him in real life but it was the taped cut on the man's face that Peter couldn't stop staring at. Miss Potts was right behind him, her features soft just like they had been when had woken up to this unlikely visitor.

Neither of them walked very far into the room. Mr. Stark just stood there at a considerable distance, arms crossed in front of him, silent. He didn't say anything and Peter's heart was racing along with his mind. Was he... waiting? Maybe he was waiting. Maybe this was... maybe this was were Peter was supposed to apologize.

His throat was dry. He was a little worried that he'd not even get any words out at all. "Mr. Stark, I... I'm so sorry, Sir. I'm so sorry. For... for everything. I didn't mean—I didn't want to—" Peter's eyes flicked to Miss Potts who was standing behind the man. Maybe Mr. Stark had told her about Peter's secret, but what if he didn't? How was he even supposed to apologize when he wasn't even sure if he should even speak of all those things he had done in front of her.

He turned his eyes away from them, couldn't even really look up at his mentor. It didn't even matter. There were no words that would ever make up for what Peter had done. The betrayal. The lies. It was all too much. Mr. Stark did step forward at that, close enough that one of his hands could clasp Peter's lower arm tightly. Even this was different. The man's hand was cold, his grip hesitant and nowhere as anchoring as it had been before. Things would never be as they were before and it was all Peter's fault.

"Just breathe." Mr. Stark's voice was low, almost whispered. "You need to calm down."

Peter swallowed hard. He felt like a little kid just lying there, he couldn't take it. He needed to get up, face the consequences of what he had done no matter how much it terrified him. He was still Spider-Man. He was still supposed to be, well... maybe not a superhero, but something. Something better than this, cowering in his bed. He struggled to push himself up but Mr. Stark put a hand on his chest and ended Peter's efforts without much strength. He just kept Peter right there on his back in the hospital-like bed, made him just lie there. Peter braced himself at the touch, was just waiting for the pain that the pressure on his chest should send through him. He pressed his eyes shut, but nothing came. It took him a moment to wrap his head around the fact that Mr. Stark was at all able to keep him in that bed and that the pain the man's hand on his chest should have caused never came. Was he... was he healed? How long had he been unconscious?