Chapter Text
spider fact #1: spiders get stressed, too.
Peter felt like he was drowning. The past couple of weeks had beaten him and made sure to come back for their revenge. He was constantly locked in his room doing intense studies for finals, save for the times when Tony or May would literally drag him from his room to make sure he was taking care of himself.
Most of his teachers had explained what material would be on the final, but others gave no guidance whatsoever. Peter, of course, took this as a reason to study everything they went over throughout the year.
His GPA was a solid 4.0 and the thought of it dropping made his anxiety spike. He had explained this to Tony, who A) wasn’t aware of Peter’s vigorous final study habits, and B) was beginning to show his concern that Peter was constantly holed up in his room. At one point, he even told Peter to not study, because he had begun to look visibly tired and thin.
That night, he woke up to find Peter on the kitchen floor, surrounded by papers with messy scribbles on them.
Peter hadn’t noticed when Tony walked in, and he missed the disapproving look. Tony had probably waited for a solid 40 seconds before Peter noticed him.
Peter, still oblivious, stood up, wincing when his knees popped as he stood, and walked awkwardly to the fridge, squinting as he peered inside. After searching for a moment, he grabbed a smoothie (surprisingly enough, he still enjoyed them). As soon as he turned around and spotted Tony, he recreated a scene that had been heavily referenced amongst the Avengers. Peter, out of pure shock, jumped up, and fell into a ball, trying to propel himself away. The cup, being plastic, didn’t shatter, but the lid popped off loudly, allowing the dark pink liquid to spread all over everything.
Of course, as soon as Peter had realized what had happened he came out of his ball. He looked around and took a moment to analyze the scene in front of him with a horrified expression. The floor, his papers, his hours of hard work, were all covered in blended fruit. He frantically scrambled over to them on his knees, tears beginning to well up in his eyes. As he tried to wipe it away to no avail, Tony crouched down and went to touch Peter on his shoulder to comfort him, but as soon as his fingers grazed the shoulder of Peter’s worn sweatshirt, the boy looked up him, tears finally escaping his eyes and making a path down his face. His lower lip trembled and he let out a shuddering breath as his returned his focus to his papers muttering to himself as he tried to clean them.
Tony watched stunned for a moment as Peter rushed around the kitchen, grabbing various cleaning products, grabbing shakily at his papers, before he finally snapped out of it and took broad steps forward to grab him.
He grabbed Peter by the shoulders and looked him in the eyes, and softly whispered, “It’s okay.”
Peter began to protest, but let himself be led back to his room. Tony sat with him for a while, comforting him. When Peter’s breathing evened out, and the lines on his face softened, Tony pulled the covers to his chin, smiling softly when Peter snuggled himself in sleepily.
Tony tiptoed out, letting the door close with a faint ‘click’ behind him.
-
The weekend blurred away seamlessly, and Peter refused to talk about what had taken place in the kitchen. Tony didn’t push it.
Peter had woken up later than usual and had to rush to the cafeteria at his school to get coffee, knowing that if he didn’t he’d fall asleep during his first final of the day. It wasn’t really a risk he wanted to take.
He hadn’t thought about how it’d affect him on patrol later, and when the thought struck him during his final, he swept it under the rug. He figured it would’ve worn off by the time he left, and he knew he had more important things to worry about.
However, when the time came to go on patrol, several problems (rudely) presented themselves.
First off, Peter was still unbelievably exhausted.
He caught himself nodding off while observing the city and watching for crime from the top of a building. After he caught himself the first time, he backed from the edge, already imagining what the headlines would be if he were to fall.
Second off, his webs didn’t stick.
As soon as he shot his webs, they fell to the ground and looked like a mess. He let out a loud groan and decided that he’d just go home and study more. He crawled down the building (thank goodness he could still do that) and after he changed back into regular clothes, begun his trek home.
As he was walking, a revelation hit him. The caffeine was affecting his webs, so it was there, but he was still tired. He grumbled to himself about it as he walked home.
-
On Wednesday, not even a week since the incident in the kitchen, Peter had realized that he had had just about all he could take.
He had three finals, and they were in his worst classes. He hadn’t known what to study and despite his best efforts, he still felt unprepared.
When he woke up, he decided he would rush to the library before class to get a little more studying in. He had left early to ensure that he’d have plenty of time to get there, get a spot near a quiet corner and a window, and obviously have enough time to cover the material he needed to cover.
He studied for just over an hour and was feeling reassured. He went to the bathroom to fix his appearance. He tugged his shirt down, messed with his hair, and was ready to go. That is, he thought he was. He let out a sigh, and after catching a whiff of his breath realized he had been in such a rush that he had forgotten to brush his teeth.
He flushed in embarrassment but calmed down once he recalled that he still had plenty of time to run to his locker to get some gum. He made the short trip to his locker and grabbed a piece of gum. He was about to pop it into his mouth, but he heard someone calling his name. He looked around with a quizzical expression, before spotting Ned.
Abandoning his previous task, he walked over to Ned.
They talked for a while, before heading off to their own classes. Peter went to reach for his phone in his pocket so he could text Ned, but found the gum instead.
He unwrapped it quickly and began chewing on it.
He was reviewing the notes he had taken that morning, and it took a moment to hit him. His face scrunched up as he suppressed the urge to gag. He pulled out the flimsy wrapper, and after examining it closely, it hit him. Peppermint.
He stood up as discreetly as he could and spit it out.
The taste lingered, and ironically enough, he felt the need to ask someone for a piece of gum to drown out the overwhelming peppermint taste.
He was just trying to focus on the questions in front of him. He knew the material well enough, he had studied it closely.
The peppermint was everywhere . All at once, he began to fall apart. He felt it in his ears, his lungs, his eyes, just everywhere . It was suffocating and he felt like he couldn’t breathe.
Suddenly, he began to feel overwhelmed from all ends. His head felt like it was going to explode at any moment, everything was too bright, the perfume that belonged to the girl to his right was too strong, and he couldn’t taste anything except the peppermint .
He tried to push through and even his breathing, but he was struggling.
He managed to finish the test, and after slamming it on his teacher’s desk, he asked in a shaky voice if he could go to the restroom. The teacher, who was usually cold and uncaring, seemed worried.
“Are you sure you need the restroom? You look like you should go to the nurse’s office,” she whispered softly.
He shook his head with a weak smile, receiving a nod and a hand wave in response.
He bolted out of the room and went into a sprint to get to the restroom. He was relieved to find that the stalls were empty.
He practically threw himself in one, not bothering to lock the door, and let his stomach empty into the toilet, his entire body trembling.
He slid onto the ground, letting out a groan when his face made contact with the floor. He knew how gross it was, but all he wanted was sleep. In his delirious state, he couldn’t seem to find a reason to not.
His eyes fluttered closed, and he wasn’t sure that he could keep them open, even if he tried.
Or, that’s what he was ready to believe.
“What the f- Parker?!” Flash’s voice rang loudly in the bathroom, causing Peter to groan.
“Shit… what’s up with you?” He questioned, receiving the same response he got the first time, a listless groan.
Peter wrangled his phone from his pocket and let it fall to the floor, too tired to hold it.
“What the hell do you want me to do?!” Flash yelled, but calmed down when he saw how awful Peter looked.
Normally, Flash would’ve laughed or just left him for some other teacher to deal with, but something seemed seriously wrong, and Flash wasn’t that awful.
Peter mumbled something indistinct, and when Flash opened his mouth, inpatient and ready to yell again, he said it more clearly.
“Dad… call my dad,” he slurred, ignoring the confused and sad look Flash shot his way, “His number is in there, near the top.”
Flash didn’t hesitate or question it further, and let it ring, surprised when the person on the other side picked up almost immediately.
“Kid? What’s up? Did something happen, should I pick you up?”
Flash was shellshocked. It couldn’t be who he thought it was, right?
“U-um, I’m Peter’s classmate, he… uh… seems,” Flash trailed off.
“What? What’s wrong with him?!” The person barked.
“I-I don’t know exactly what, but he just seems… sick? He’s lethargic, and he seems to be sensitive to sound and light,” Flash rattled off, still alarmed at how close the voice of the opposite person sounded to that of Tony Stark.
“Shit…” the person muttered, “I’ll be there soon, stay by him.”
Flash was about to protest, but before he could the person hung up.
He sat on the floor nervously, glancing at Peter to see if he was still breathing. Flash let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding when he realized that Peter was, and came to the conclusion that he passed out.
Soon enough, heavy footsteps resounded throughout the small bathroom. The one and only Tony Stark rushed in, looking around frantically.
As soon as he found Peter, he slid onto his knees and cushioned his head, brushing his hair off of his clammy forehead.
Peter’s eyebrows scrunched up in discomfort, before relaxing again. Tony examined him closely for a moment, before picking him up and nodding towards Flash, who remained shocked.
Tony didn’t bother checking Peter out in the office, he didn’t have time.
-
Peter woke up in his bed two days later. He blinked sluggishly at the ceiling. He stayed like that until Tony eventually came in. When Tony realized that Peter was awake he seemed surprised. He dropped what he was holding and gathered Peter in his arms, pulling him close.
Peter didn’t protest, and just let himself be hugged. After a moment, he felt something wet on his shoulder. He peeled himself away from the hug, only to find that Tony was crying.
“I thought I lost you,” Tony said, his facade crumbling away, “I-I was so scared…”
Peter hugged him, trying to squeeze with all of his might.
“I’m sorry,” He began, “I-I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean t- and I just wanted to make you pro- and-” Peter fell apart, struggling to hold it together.
Tony comforted him as he let it out, and when Peter had finally calmed, he took a deep breath.
“Peter, I know you love being Spiderman, but I think you need to take a break,” Tony paused, trying to gauge Peter’s reaction. When the panic crossed Peter’s face, he continued hurriedly, “Not for long! Just for the next week or so. You’re wearing yourself too thin.”
Peter just nodded, seeming less stressed.
After they ate, Tony told Peter to get some more rest, since he was still weak.
That night, Peter came to a conclusion.
He could do it. He could be a student, a kid, and Spiderman. He could be a good friend and nephew/son, and a good hero. He didn’t have to choose .
In a way, being a good hero and a good friend were one and the same.
Peter continued to ponder over it as he slept.
He could come to accept himself and his weird spider tendencies.
He would come to accept them. It would be “Peter Parker and his weird spider tendencies”.