Kid, tell me what happened: The Sequel

I Just Want to Feel Something

It’s hard to wake up, fresh with vivid memories, some wanted while others aren’t. It’s hard to breathe with a stinging sensation that’s practically ingrained in his head. It’s hard to open his eyes to a world that’s moving faster and faster. And Peter just can’t keep up. It’s just as hard to go to sleep because instead of hiding, all Peter Anthony Stark can do is have the worst of his dreams, nightmares, and memories roll out, shaking through his nose and brian as it slowly kills him from the inside out. 

The worst part is, Peter doesn’t even know why he’s like this. He’s constantly apologizing for mistakes because he forgot or he’s human and allowed to make mistakes without people harassing him. Or, he didn’t know that he did something wrong and now everyone is yelling at him like he’s a force of evil that needs its spark extracted. And then he cries. He can’t help being anxious or sensitive. Why must he always apologize for doing so?

Today is no different. He bolts awake, completely upright and shaking as cold sweat finds its way into his hair. Another nightmare. His father’s body is clad in his armor and Infinity Stones that clash with blood, dust, soot, and grime. The boy is alone in his father’s bed but then remembers that his dad is indeed alive, and on a mission with Cap, Cap, Falcon, and the ex-Winter Soldier. His thoughts briefly communicate for a little while more before they steel off, forcing Peter to interact with his conscience. He misses his dad so much, and as he wipes his face he can’t help but wonder if the man will make it home. 

Suddenly, Peter feels tired even though he just woke up. He buries his face against the cold smoothness of his hands. He exhaled as his eyes fluttered shut. Peter wants to cry even though he has no reason to. Either way, no tears come out. How broken do you have to be so sad and exhausted and yet no longer able to cry?

Perhaps, his sensitivity has derived his Nile River of tears, he thinks. Or maybe it’s too early to cry. But that shouldn’t matter, his body has been broken multiple times and his mind has been to hell just as many. There are times when he finds himself randomly crying, without any concept of time, or days where he stays in bed all day long. Perhaps he is indeed broken. 

His father, if he were here, would've held him close to his heart. He would’ve told Peter that his heart had only beated for him. It had almost become a routine, Peter would catch another sob as he asked if he was broken. Tony’s reply had always been the same, “Never, Starks are made of iron, and iron doesn’t break.  And neither will you. Besides, Iron Man wouldn’t allow it.” Then, he’d wrap his arms around Peter and whisper soft soothes until the boy would fall asleep. 

Only this time, it’s just him. He just asked FRIDAY how long until Tony would be back and the A.I answered in about an hour. Tony didn’t want to go on many missions after Thanos. He’s still an Avenger because it’s his heart’s calling and from what Captain Marvel said, there could be beings like or worse than Thanos. And the world needs saving, restorement from all the trauma brought along by Thanos. But Tony needs to take care of someone more important; his Peter. 

Peter misses his father, even more as his thoughts remind him why he needs to be taken care of. The first example is Peter’s least favorite. When everything had become too much and Peter couldn’t handle any of it. He was so tired. Tired of crying and feeling weak. Tired of pain and trauma-induced nightmares. Tired of confining himself to his bed unable to feel but at the same time completely, helplessly able to do so. He doesn’t even know why he feels this way, he just does. So he forced himself out of bed some days ago for the first time in weeks, wincing at how strange the feeling was to carry his own weight. He didn’t know what he needed, only the urge to walk wherever his staggering weight would take him. And when he stumbled into the bathroom, the first thing he could take in was his own reflection. Pale and ashy with eyes that barely flickered with life. He was deteriorating, he deduced in horror. So he pulled out a razor and cut his wrists open.