Number One Priority

The Stark Internship

HELLOOOOOO JELLY BEANS!

YES
IT IS I
I'M BACK!

So sorry this hasn't come sooner but my school work has been really busy and my bedroom has been undergoing renovations so I'm really sorry for not doing this earlier!

This one is going to be a bit shorter than the rest because I still have a ton of work left to do but I wanted to publish what I had done already so you guys can have a bit of a taste as to what will happen in the next chapter.

Anyways! With that out of the way! ENJOY!

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One week after the speech.

Peter POV

"Mr Stark?...."

W-wha....where am I?

"I-I don't feel so good..."

I feel....weird...this feels...

"Mr Stark! I-I don't...I-I-I don't know what's happening!"

...feels different from last time

"I don't wanna go!"

Feels...warmer...

"I DONT WANNA GO!"

No...not again!

"I'm sorry"

Stop it!

"W-we did it!

PLEASE!

"W-we won, Mr Stark!"

TONY I'M SORRY!

"d-don't go...Tony"

I'M NOT STRONG ENOUGH!

I jolt awake, my hands clutching at the sheets of my bed as I gather what little breath I had, not knowing that I didn't have any. My head was spinning, I felt so light-headed! My eyes were being clouded up by spots. What happened?

I calmed down ever so slightly to reveal that I accidentally ended up not just gripping the sheets, but full-on digging my fingers into the mattress itself. "...fuck" I cursed; Aunt May is going to kill me when she finds out. I remove my hand from the bed, seeing the sheets still stuck into the top of the mattress and the imprint of my hand. I let out a sigh before rubbing my eyes, getting the sleep out.

My memory for what just happened was starting to fade, making me unable to recall what is was about, but I could guess. For the past few months since Tony's funeral, I've been having dreams of my death and Tony's death too. I have been getting slack in my sleeping schedule and its affecting everything. My relationships with my friends and May, my schoolwork, my mental health and my crime-fighting. There have been so many instances where I could have easily beaten the bad guys, but instead, get my ass handed to me because my senses are asleep and are making my reflexes as slow as internet explorer...with eleven tabs on...with poor Wi-Fi connection. I just don't want to sleep. Every time I close my eyes, I see him when I fade and when he dies. Because of this, there have been people popping up in the media that are calling me out for "slacking off" or even going as far to say that I am secretly one of them and didn't want to hurt them. One of them is a journalist called J. Jonah Jameson has been rising up with the popularity and is calling me a Menace! Come on man!

I hate it!

I glance over to the clock and check the time. 6:58 am. I groan and fall back onto my bed, remembering that I have set an alarm for 7:00 am and that's two minutes away from now. It's going to be painful when it sounds.