IronDad/SpiderSon One-shots

Drive

Third Person POV
Word Count: 2,619
Spooktober Day Twenty-One: Pins
Trigger Warning: Implied depression, Implied anxiety, implied struggle with mental health in general
A/n: I am so sorry for missing so many days. My mental health really declined quickly. I'm trying to play catch up now. Thank you all for your support this month <3<3

"What is the square root of 88? Just the first five decimals, please."

A bell dings and M.J. nods toward Abrham, who hit the bell. "13.71131."

M.J. flipped the card over and nodded. "Correct." She put the card onto the table and grabbed the next one. "How many times does-" The school bell rang, interrupting M.J. She gave a sigh and set down the card. "We'll pick up on this after school tomorrow. Catch you later, losers."

The decathlon group all started to clean up their belongings. Peter, who had been sleeping on and off most of the practice, sluggishly stood from his chair.

"Dude," Ned said, standing beside Peter. He swung his book bag over his shoulder and gave Peter a once over. "When was the last time you slept?"

Tiredly, Peter shook his head. "I can't remember," he admitted as he grabbed his own book bag off the floor. He felt a wave of dizziness wash over him as he took a second to pause, gripping onto the back of the chair so hard he felt it bend awkwardly in his hand. He loosened his grip once the stars left his vision and shook his head. "It's been a long week."

Ned, who was extremely concerned for his friend, gave him a once over. Something had been up with Peter for the past few weeks. It wasn't very noticeable at first, his energy just kind of off. But, now it was a lot more evident. Peter hadn't slept since at least Monday—maybe even longer than that—and it was Thursday. On top of that, Peter was hardly eating and was struggling to keep up in school. What was the worst of it, though, was that Peter wasn't even patrolling, the one thing he always did. "Have you talked to Tony at all?"

Giving Ned a weird look, Peter slowly brought his book bag over his shoulder. "Why would I talk to Tony," he asked. "Nothings wrong. It's just a bad bout of insomnia, that's all," he tried to reason. "Besides, the man has a lot on his plate already with his recovery and his real kid and-"

"You're not seriously insinuating that Tony Stark doesn't care about you as much as he cares about his own kid, right," M.J. said, walking up to Peter and Ned. She gave Peter a once over and sighed. "Talk to him. He cares."

"Guys, I really appreciate you caring, but seriously, I'm-" Peter started but was cut off.

Interrupting Peter, M.J. finished for him. "-missing out on the covered content in almost all of our classes, not patrolling, not sleeping or eating well, and definitely lying to your friends. If you think that any of those things are 'fine,' then I will personally escort you to Tony's cabin myself."

The three started walking out of the classroom together. Peter sighed and Ned cleared his throat. "Listen," Ned started. "Something is obviously going on, and it's okay that you don't want to talk to us about it, but you have to talk to someone." He put a gentle hand on Peter's shoulder. "We're here for you, man. We just want to help you through whatever rough patch you are going through."

Nodding, Peter gave them both a smile. "Thank you, guys. I really appreciate it," he said. The three stepped outside of the school and started making their way down the stairs that lead up to the school. "So, are we going to study for this decathlon meet over the weekend or what?"

[This time skip is brought to you by the following: my guilt for being so behind on spooktober. Fuck bad mental health]

"And then everyone exploded, right?"