Kid, tell me what happened: The Sequel

Am I Good Enough? (So Much)

It’s the sound of a guttural scream tearing through the darkness that sent Tony bolting upright, panting harder than he had in years. He could’ve sworn with how loud and rapid his heart his beating, cardiac arrest had to be in a close proximity. 

Dozens of thoughts began spiralling through the genius’s mind until his hazel irises fluttered open: Peter. 

A fatherly switch immediately overcame him as wasted no time in launching himself off the bed, covers be damned, wasting no time in running in the direction of Peter’s room. 

He immediately threw open the door and felt his heart break as he watched a trembling Peter writhe in his bed, tears flooding down his far too innocent face. Peter began to mumble strings of incoherent phrases, the ones that were comprehensible ranged from “No! Please, no!” to “I’m sorry, I’ll be better.”

Tony quickly approached the sobbing boy, pulling him close to his chest and called out softly, “Peter, buddy, wake up.” He rocked the clearly distressed teenager as a gasp escaped his lips and his eyes shot open. Peter’s voice was hoarse as he rasped out, “Mister Stark?”

Tony nodded, “Yeah bud, I’m right here. Take a few deep breaths, in and out, let that carbon dioxide and oxygen do their thing.” 

Peter’s cold hands began to tremble and Tony quickly placed his much larger ones over them, and bending his fingers over them, clasping them tightly as he murmured softly, “Peter, what color is the sky?”

Peter replied in a shaky tone, “Well, for typical hours between seven to six, unless in daylight savings seven to four, the sky is blue because our hemisphere faces the Sun, but during the hours that we face the moon, the blue morphs into a black.”

Were it not for the fact that Peter was still in a panic attack, Tony would’ve chuckled. 

But he had his kid clutching him like a lifeline as he struggled to get a control of his respiratory system, and that was his number one priority at the moment. 

Tony gently ran his fingers through Peter’s curls, slowly grounding him, “What’s your name kiddo?”

Peter’s voice was less shaky so that was an improvement, “Peter Parker?”

Tony prodded, “Are you asking or telling me?” One hand subconsciously moved to his trembling back and rubbed soft circles in an attempt to stop the trembling. 

Peter’s voice was somewhat more confident as he replied, “Peter Parker.”

Peter sharply inhaled and exhaled, gently collapsing against his mentor who was cradling him softly. 

Tony leaned back on Peter’s bed asking concernedly, “Peter, do you want to talk about it?”

Peter shook his head, nightmare still vivid in his mind. 

It started with an endless black, that stretched to infinity and beyond, and the more Peter squinted the more a sense of dread flowed through his veins. 

Then he heard the voice that he hadn't heard in decades spoke in a cold, forceful tone, "Peter, I expected better from you." 

Peter turned around and froze in shock, as he found himself face to face with his parents. Parents who looked extremely angry with the dire looks of hatred embedded on worn out faces. The father crossed his arms and spoke harshly, “Do you know how much I, we, gave up for you? We gave up our freedom, our dreams, our happiness, everything to protect you! To make the world a better place for future Parkers, but you were a disappointment! You were just a weak, pathetic person who doesn’t know his place, weak!”