Peter Parker Whump Shots

Too Much

The party was raging in the living room; lights blazing from the rafters, glitter floating endlessly down the floor, and champagne spilling from the glasses of Senators and prostitutes alike. This was a Tony Stark party.

It was the billionaire's 35th--a huge milestone in the Stark family. From the day day Tony was old enough to understand the concept of birthdays, he knew what it meant to turn 35. As Howard Stark always said, "The man you are at 35 is the man you will be for the rest of your life."

That stuck with Tony.

That's why he wanted his birthday to be an extravaganza of epic proportions. You can imagine the brain of that genius toiling away at every detail of his celebration. From the guest list to the appetizer colors, he was ready to sit down and plan everything in one night. That is--until an underground HYDRA base threatened to blow up the eastern seaboard, and it was his turn to punch some bad guys.

Those dang Nazis just ruin everything, don't they?

That's when all of the party planning responsibilities fell into the cybernetic hands of FRIDAY.

"Hey, FRI," Tony uttered as he soared across the Atlantic at top speeds.

"Yes boss," she replied in her sing-song dialect.

"I'm putting all party-planning responsibilities on you for this weekend."

"Are you sure, boss?"

Tony sighed, "Yeah...yeah just surprise me."

"As you wish, sir."

Tony was surprised, to say the least. With every cent of his party budget spent, and every contact on his server invited, the youngest Stark was definitely...surprised. But it was his party, and he had to go. So, he pulled on his best suit, put on a classic smirk, poured a glass of 1876 Scotch, and hoped a disaster would pull him away from this racket.

Peter was looking forward to the party all week; he had told Ned about it a million times at least. Every time though, Ned was still as excited to hear about it as the first. Aunt May steamed his best suit and he polished his nice shoes in preparation for the bash, but he was a little bit nervous. What if he stuck out? What if he didn't belong there with all of the other big names of New York City? Tony had told him that he could just say he was an intern for the company if anyone asked, but that wasn't the concern for Peter. Even if no one else saw him as out of place or inferior, he did.

But no worries, right? The party will be fun no matter what happens because it's a Stark party!

~party time~

Peter wiggled his way through the crowds of men in oversized jackets and women in tight skirts. The alcohol spilled from every glass and splashed onto his blazer. He spotted Natasha sitting at the bar and decided to join her. The lights blinded him momentarily as he stumbled his way through the dance floor, but he eventually made his way to the red haired woman's side.

"Ah! Peter!" She smiled, "Glad to see you could make it to Tony's humble gathering!" Her eyes glimmered as she spoke, communicating complete comfort with Peter. She liked him, she really did. He reminded her of herself from before the academy--smart, strong, righteous, and innocent. When he first arrived at the tower, she was skeptical of his abilities, but she had come to love his company on missions.

"Who are all these people?" Peter shouted over the loud music.

"'Politicians from his pocket and girls from his pants,' is the phrase Steve used earlier," she recounted.

"Rogers or Strange?" Peter clarified.

"Rogers."

"Yeah, that makes sense."

It made sense.

Peter squinted around the room. "Where is Mister Stark?"

Natasha joined him in scanning the neon faces of the scene. "I don't actually know. I haven't seen him since he made his grand entrance a couple hours ago."

Tony's party days were over and everyone knew it. Sure, the Avengers sat around and drank wine sometimes (some members opting for a good kiddy cocktail instead) but big extravagant fiestas were too stressful for Tony nowadays. Saving the world was hard.

"If I had to guess," Natasha said, returning her focus to the boy next to her, "I would guess that he's down in his workshop right now."

They looked each other in the eye for a moment before simultaneously repeating Tony's favorite phrase, "Restricted Access."

"Thanks, Nat," Peter smiled as he walked away, rubbing his temples-- the noise was starting to get to him.

He reentered the sea of moving bodies in order to get to the elevator to the ground floor, and that's when it hit him. Every sound, movement, color, and smell in a five block radius flooded his senses all at once. Extreme, instantaneous anxiety swept over him like a tidal wave, to the point where he could barely stand. He felt his heart beat violently inside his chest as he pushed his way out of the brick of human flesh he was trapped in. Gasping for air, he stumbled out of the room. Air, air, air, air, he thought. I need space. But the pain didn't stop. He managed to push his way out of the seething sea of sound and around the corner to a quieter hallway that was lined with doors.

"Oh my gosh..." he sputtered as he tried to catch his breath. He slid down against the wall to sit, holding his knees. Every single thing in a 10 block radius was piercing his skull and pressing into his brain. Peter raised his hands to his ears and felt a warm liquid escaping them. He assumed it was blood and felt as the panic rose through him.

"Mister Stark," Peter tried to yell, but only a whimper left his lips. "Help" he tried one more time, but the pain shocked through his body and he lay there squirming in pain.

"Peter?" a voice boomed through his head, "Oh my God, kid."

All of a sudden the blurry mess became a crystal clear picture for Peter as he caught the hand nearing his shoulder and twisted it as far as he could. Tony grunted in pain and Peter realized what his reflexes were doing.

Instant regret flooded Peter's conscious above the, still, over-active senses. "Mister Stark-oh my gosh-I'm so sorry. I-I-I didn't mean to..." he rambled.

"It's okay, kid," the man assured, "what's wrong?"

"I don't know, it's just...everything is so much."

"Hey, shshshshsh," Tony stalled, "you know what, how about we get you out of here."

Peter tried to stand on his own as Tony tried not to touch him. The boy simply tottered before stumbling to his knees again. "I'm so sorry, Mister Stark," he cried, "I can't do anything."

"It's okay, Pete; Take it easy." Stark rose his wrist to his lips and spoke, "FRI, get me Beta 4 to the upper west corridor." A few moments later, a red and gold suit was whizzing up the stairs and stood before the pair. It opened up to reveal the driver's seat waiting for an occupant. Tony made a gesture to Peter and the armor followed, wrapping itself around the weak teenager.

Peter fought every urge to fight off the touch of the cool metal, until he was safely inside. Then, bright blue words that read "INITIATING LULABY PROTOCOL" flashed on the screen before him; a calming white noise started over the speakers that blocked out every other sound. Peter felt instantly relaxed; left only with the fear of being reviled as a freak by his role model--by his father figure. That fear sunk down inside his stomach and sat there like a knot that no calming suit could untie.