Peter Parker OneShots!

In Conclusion

This will be the very last chapter I upload of this book (I loved every minute of this cringy mess during quarantine)...I'm working on another story ('24 Bash here, wow have I made progress but nowhere near complete) which you should totally check out ;> it won't be posted until the whole book is finished. Unfortunately I just don't have the heart to keep updating once every six years lol- so I suppose it's best to end it here.

So, let's do this.
(But updated <3)

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"P....t?" "Pe....er?" "Peter? Peter Benjamin Parker-Stark!" Shaky hands pull at his clothes and the older man grips at his son's body, sobbing and screeching the boy's name. Tony brings the teen against his chest, speaking hurriedly as his breaths gasp over and over again. "Friday please, Bruce, you have to call Bruce up here!" Sobs started to rack Tony's body, the breaths still heavy and pained. The older man held the brown-haired boy close, brushing his curls and sobbing his son's name.

Bruce arrived what could have been seconds or minutes later, scrambling into the room out of breath. Immediately his eyes found Tony and Peter, frantically Bruce bent down to feel the boys pulse. "It's faint...But he's alive." Adjusting his stance, he moves to help Tony hold the kid and they stand.

Tracing a few halls they finally make way through the common room, the other Avengers immediately crowding with worry. "We need to get to the med bay." Tony practically barks, his voice strained as the tears seem to keep falling. A few of the other Avengers nodded, Tony continued towards the elevator, stepping in silently as the situation washed over him. "Fri-" But he didn't have to finish the words, the elevator closed behind Tony and Bruce, zooming down to the medical floor.

As they reached the med bay, a nurse called Tony, Strange, and Bruce into the room. "It's blood loss, possibly a bit of medication overdose as well. Peter's healing factor has done most of the work for us, however we did do a transfusion to make sure. It's about waiting now." Dr. Cho stated quietly as she turned back to Peter. Tony looked down at the boy, and silently swayed out of the room.

It was likely hours later, Tony still sat in the chair, emotions lying heavily in his chest. The older man's eyes glazed the ground, leg bouncing up and down rapidly. Anxiety and guilt curled deeply in his gut and up his spine flooding his senses; potent and painful. Finally Bruce appeared, he looked better, maybe coping easier than Tony was. "He's fine Tony. He's taking his time, resting for now." Tony let out a breath he didn't know he was holding, and fell back into the chair. "Why didn't he tell me Bruce? Why didn't he tell anyone?" Tony was barely straddling any of his emotions, this whole thing felt unreal, like it wasn't supposed to happen.

"He felt alone Tony... You know what that's like— all of us do." Bruce replied in a somber tone. Tony nodded absentmindedly, he knew Bruce was just trying to help. On top of that, he did know what it was like to feel alone, Tony knew how Peter felt. A nurse walked out, and immediately spoke. "Peter is awake...he would like to see you." Tony practically launched from his seat, Stephen rising with him as the two walked in together. Those signature chestnut curls spread across the papery pillow, his eyes their usual shade of caramel, his skin looking more alive.

"Hey Dad, Dad." Peter spoke softly, his eyes flicking between Tony and Stephen. "What no Mr. Stark?" Tony replied warily. Peter chuckled and motioned his fathers over, Peter quickly embraced Tony, and spoke softly. "I'm sorry, I love you guys...You know that. There was nothing else, at least it felt that way." Tony looked at his son, withdrawing from the hug and whispered a soft "I know," His voice grew warmly and he continued. "I feel alone and numb sometimes too, we are here for you son." Peter smiled and hugged his dad. "Thank you."

"Even when you think you're alone." Tony smiled, his eyes wrinkling lightly as he pulled his son back into the hug, Stephen moving to ruffle Peter's hair and join the hug.

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So long, and goodnight dear readers (Takes my dramatic little bow).

Sorry it was so short...I don't really know how to write anymore (still real). It was a coping mechanism at first, something I used to write my feelings. But I'm not sure I know how to do that anymore... Maybe it's time I take a break, and focus on getting better, before I get worse.
(Never getting better + still writing = icon behavior)
(The previous statement is false for legal reasons.)

-El/Bash/Sourwolf