♡ Chapter Sixteen ♡

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Peter didn't even have the mental capacity to worry about Tony's absence when he woke up that morning. It's been six days since he's seen Tony, nobody's even heard from him that he knows of, but he can't find it in him to care.

Because tomorrow is the anniversary of his uncle's death. Three whole years since he lost his third parent. And there's only another few years until he loses his fourth.

So he lies in his bed, staring up at the ceiling with glazed eyes, shivering in the mid-December chilly air. His fingers and toes have gone so pale they're blue and he's worried his teeth might crack with how badly they're chattering. But he did this last year, so he'll get through this year too.

Luckily, though, mid-December means it's almost time for Christmas Break to roll around and he can pick up as many shifts as humanely possible and start racking in more money so he can survive through January and February.

Peter pulls his sweater tighten around his body as another vicious shiver runs through his numb body and his shaking fingers fumble to pull his blanket higher up on his chest.

He wants to complain. He wants to call anybody to come over and make sure he's alright. But in truth, he just wants Tony. He wants Tony here to keep him warm and to soothe his looping thoughts.

But he can't have Tony. Tony's MIA and there's nothing he can do about it.

So he watches the ceiling, shivering and numb and heavy with emotion.


*

There's a lot of things Peter could be doing.

He could go see May in the hospital because she doesn't deserve to be alone in this hard time with only the nurses to keep her company.

He could get a shift at work to keep his mind occupied and maybe get enough money to cover heat for a week.

He could go to school because he already missed a day last week and he's missing another now. It's really close to exam time, so he really shouldn't be missing a lot of school.

He could at least work on the pile of homework he's been collecting for winter break on top of a cardboard box across the room.

Instead, like a total bitch, he calls Tony again and again, listening to the robotic woman's voice repeating that the number isn't in service.

Over and over again.

It's for selfish reasons, he's much too aware of that. He wants Tony here for totally selfish reasons. He doesn't want to be alone; he wants to be held, safe and warm, he wants to drink or to eat too much food or to simply binge-watch something on Netflix.

Because it's not like Tony's his only option.

He could call Natasha or Wade or Steve or literally anyone else to keep him company. Hell, he could even call Wanda and he's sure she would come to the rescue.

But here he is, calling Tony's number and watching his data run out.

How pathetic.


*

Around noon, he decides he's had enough of wallowing in this awfulness, like he really has a choice, and he drags himself out of bed.

He changes into a pair of loose, way too loose, black sweatpants. He pulls a hoodie over his long sleeve and sweater, hoping it'll help keep him warmer.

And then he sits at his dining room table and starts working on his homework.

He isn't sure what else he's supposed to do. And, hey, at least this is helping take his mind off everything.

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