Bruised But Not Broken - Irondad/spiderson

Here We Go Again

TW! 

A knock breaks the silence.

I freeze.

For a long moment, I don't move. Then another knock follows, softer this time.

"Peter?" Tony's voice carries through the door. "It's Stark. Can I come in?"

My chest tightens.

I move on instinct. Flush. Cold water. Hands under my eyes until the redness fades enough to lie. I open the door to find him standing there, patient, careful, like he's braced for me to bolt.

"Hey, Mr Stark," I say, aiming for casual and landing somewhere brittle.

"Hey, Pete." His voice softens immediately. "How you holding up?"

"I'm okay," I answer. It comes out practiced.

He studies me, not buying it, but not pushing either. His hand rests briefly on my shoulder, grounding and warm.

"We're here for you," he says. "All of us. Whatever you need."

"Thanks," I say quietly. Something almost like a smile tugs at my mouth.

Tony steps inside and shuts the door behind him. He takes in the room, the bed, the boxes, the temporary nature of everything.

"Your aunt texted me," he says. "She picked up extra shifts. She's happy for you to stay a few more days. Thought we could work on some upgrades. You know. Help our friendly neighbourhood Spider-Man."

"Oh. Yeah. Sure." I nod too fast. "That sounds... fun. I've been reading the books you left. I'm halfway through Mechanics of Life."

His eyebrows lift, pleased. "Knew you'd like it."

He reaches for the door. "Tomorrow morning. Eleven. My lab."

"Okay."

He leaves, and the room fills with the kind of silence that feels heavy instead of empty.

I flop onto the bed and text May, thanking her, telling her I miss her. Then I stare at the ceiling and let the thoughts creep back in.

What if I disappeared tomorrow?

Sleep doesn't come cleanly.

My body goes numb first. Then my head fills. No dreams. Just noise. Voices overlapping. Harsh. Familiar.

The loudest one sounds like me.

You aren't good enough.

You never will be.

My eyes snap open.

3:56 AM.

My chest aches like it's caving in. I can't sit with this. I stumble into the bathroom and lock the door before I can talk myself out of it.

Small red lines healed instantly, barely scratching the surface. First they dripped, then thinned and disapated like they were never there. Good. No one will know. The bitterly cold floor pressed into my legs, leaning against the door, letting all my emotions out. Finally, the dam broke, and a flood of tears poured out down my face. My lungs cried as a gasp for air like a fish out of water trying to slow the tears, but these emotions were dying to be felt. 

The white bathroom floor now had tiny drops of red swirling around in salty water, staining beautiful patterns around my curled figure. Hiccuping over my shaky breath, I started to make out images in these swirls: my mum's hair blowing in the wind or a small innocent bunny scratching its ears. The shapes merge and blur as my head slumps down to the floor.

The empty void sends my body spiralling down, and the impending reflex of hitting the ground grows with anticipation every second, spiralling down further and further. My body jolts awake as my head slides down and smacks the frozen tiles. The floor is vibrating, weird. I scrunch my hands into my eyes, rub the dried tears away, and clear my focus. , the muffled buzzing continues for a minute. Then silence. Turning my head, I reach for my phone resting on the bath mat to my right. 

I don't know if it will quiet the noise. I don't know if it will help.

I just know I need it to stop.

The relief is brief. Fleeting. Almost disappointing in how fast it fades. My body heals too quickly for anything to linger. No marks. No evidence.

Good.

I slide down against the door, knees to my chest, and finally let myself cry. Quiet, broken sobs that scrape out of my lungs like they've been waiting all night.

Tears drip onto the white floor, mixing with faint traces of red and water, spiralling into strange shapes. My vision blurs. For a second, I think I see my mum's hair in the patterns. A rabbit. Something soft. Innocent.

Then my head tips forward and the world tilts.

I jolt awake as my forehead hits cold tile.

Buzzing. Distant. Then silence.

My phone glows on the bath mat.

Snoozed. Five times.

I'm late.

Panic cuts through the fog. I push myself upright, wipe my face, throw on a hoodie, and rush into the hallway.

ACDC blasts from the lab when I get there.

"Sorry!" I blurt. "I overslept. I'm sorry."

Tony pauses the music and gives me a look. Not angry. Not gentle.

"Suit work," he says. "Make it tougher. Bulletproof if you can. Go."

"Yeah. Okay."

I dive in, grateful for something to focus on.

Hours pass in silence. Tony works on something massive at his desk. I cough lightly, breaking it.

"Uh, Mr Stark. I need a gamma tool. Can I ask Dr Banner if I can borrow one?"

He sighs, pushes his glasses down. "Yeah. Grab it. When you're back, we get lunch. We need to talk."

I nod and head out.

Bruce isn't in his lab. Just two technicians I recognise from before.

I step inside anyway.

"Uh. Hi. Is Dr Banner around? I just need to borrow a tool for—"

Both of them turn toward me.

And something about the way they look at me makes my stomach drop.

AN

Sorry for the long wait for a trash chapter; I'm busy with Uni assessments and will try and keep posting regularly!!

Thanks for the love and support

Yours truly - a ghostly cabbage