Peter's having a little difficulty just remembering to breathe as Skip was coming closer. This-this was just another bad dream, right? Any minute he'll wake up in his bunk in cold sweat like always. This is real. Gwen had said the multiverse wouldn't do this to him!
He can't move but before Skip has the chance to get close enough to touch him, he's blasted back, hitting the floor with an inhuman sounding cry-red blossoming through the already crimson hoodie. At least it's not purple, Peter finds himself thinking.
"Warned... me?" Skip's voice sounds weak but Peter can't find it in him to care. But they can't just.. leave him there. Even after-even after what happened, Peter's sure he doesn't want Skip dead. At least. He's pretty sure.
"M-Mr-Mr Stark?" Words finally manage dislodge from his throat. "Mr-M-Mr Mr-M-" He takes in a breath, trying to stop himself from stuttering so badly. "It's-it's-it. It's..." Nope, exactly like when he was ten then.
He's shaking so much-he hadn't noticed, and his teeth had been gritted and he feels a little like he might pass out. This isn't a dream. The Multiverse really did hate him enough to do this and he feels weak and pathetic because he should be able to handle it. Instead he falls right back into being a stuttering, shaky, scared mess.
Tony came up beside Peter. He couldn't imagine what must be going through the young man's mind, but he wasn't about to let the pervert near him. "No. That's exactly what we're going to do. Leave him in a ditch like the dog he is! I told him the last time that if he ever.." Oh. Wait.
"Come on. Let's get you back on the train. I'll stay out here and make sure no one lets him on the train. We can talk later, okay?"
Suddenly, Peter finally remembers to breath in-sucking in huge gasp of air and letting it go almost just as quickly and then proceeding to not breathe again as he stares, face whiter then Tony's probably ever seen it and eyes filled with unshed tears as he just swallows.
What did Tony mean by 'the last time'? He wants to ask but his throat feels raw and somehow swollen-it's like all the words and questions had gotten stuck and now he can't get them out. He's not gonna go back to not talking at all, is he? That can't happen, right? He'd made so much progress but seeing him again.
He just wasn't ready. Not for that. He's not sure if he'd ever have been ready. Why in the Hell would the multiverse want to do this to him again? He takes in another sharp breath of air, he's falling apart and part of him wonders if Skip even cares that he's having a massive panic attack right in front of him because of what he did. But he didn't care when Peter had cried and tried to tell him no before-why should he care now?
But Skip had been his friend, how could he not care at all? Another breath and his teeth chatter as all he does and is nod at Tony, still not trusting himself to move and words still lodged painfully in his throat.
Edited (used the wrong word) 2019-10-01 23:18 (UTC)
Tony watched helplessly as Peter's pain was so real and visible. There wasn't anything he could do to stop it. He'd neutralized the threat on the outside, but what could he possibly do for him on the inside?
"Petey, we need to board the train now. Look at me. Tell yourself, you have to get on the train and nothing else. Focus your thoughts to that one task. I'm not going to touch you, but I'm right here if you need me. You're safe and your only job, is to get on the train."
Peter wants to say something-to thank Tony for acting so fast but he can't. His throat hurts still and he just can't get the words to form. Instead he just offers a nod, upset with himself that he isn't using his voice. He hasn't said a word in the five minutes and took for everything to go to hell.
He gives up on words for the moment and turns away, fighting with himself not to look back at Skip and moves further into the train. Mr Stark said he wouldn't let him on the train. There's nothing to worry about. He'll be fine tomorrow. Hopefully.
Tony wasn't sure what everyone else was doing, but they were at least leaving him alone long enough to get Peter settled. He had no doubt he was going to be in some serious trouble for murdering someone on the platform, but he wasn't nearly as sorry for it as he should be- as in, he wasn't at all.
"Peter, I'm just going to help you here okay? That's my hand on your back, we're just getting on the train- step up. Alright little more. Okay, turning you to the left and see that third row. You're sitting there. Do you feel like you're going to throw up? Remember you promised no more throwing up on me."
There are so many thoughts running through Peter's head but he's trying not to focus on any of them. This is about the time he'd like to just stop. To not think-or to wake up from the nightmare. It couldn't be real, could it? Of course it could. life on the train wasn't the best but honestly he hadn't minded it. And of course the moment he's settled into his new life and things are going good, he has to pay for it. Parker Luck slams back in with a force to rival the sun.
He nods mutely as Tony leads him to sit down. Maybe once he's calmed down his voice will come back-he hopes so because he doesn't like how quiet he's gotten. Tony asks if he feels sick and he just nods. He doesn't nauseous, he doesn't think, or at least not completely-but he feels sick.
"Dammit," Tony muttered and caught the nearest person to them. "Get him a trashcan!" If it were for himself, they wouldn't have listened and probably even barked some kind of protest, as it was though.. no one wanted Peter to suffer.
"Peter, listen to me," Tony started in again. "You're going to be okay. Just let that go, it's done. It's over. You didn't do anything, it was all me. Okay? I've always promised to protect you and that's not going to change." He hadn't actually made that promise aloud before, but he was now. "I need you to focus on telling me you hear me. Just.. say something. Okay, fine, suck it you old man, whatever."
Everything feels out of focus, there's a buzzing in his ears and unlike when he normally gets overwhelmed, the world seems muffled somehow. He looks up as Tony barks orders at someone and just stares at him as he tries to talk to him.
How could this happen? Of all the people in world-in the multi-verse-how had this happened? He's so confused and there are so many conflicting feelings rushing through him but he can at least be glad that it didn't happen again. It didn't happen again and he should be grateful.
He vaguely feels the bucket or whatever being shoved into his lap and immediately is coughing up his morning's breakfast. He stops a second to breathe before heaving again. And Tony wants him to talk. That's nice, Peter would like Peter to talk as well, but his throat feels swollen and despite having just vomited, his tongue and mouth feel like cotton.
Say something. Anything. He coughs up a little more bile and just swallows.
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He can't move but before Skip has the chance to get close enough to touch him, he's blasted back, hitting the floor with an inhuman sounding cry-red blossoming through the already crimson hoodie. At least it's not purple, Peter finds himself thinking.
"Warned... me?" Skip's voice sounds weak but Peter can't find it in him to care. But they can't just.. leave him there. Even after-even after what happened, Peter's sure he doesn't want Skip dead. At least. He's pretty sure.
"M-Mr-Mr Stark?" Words finally manage dislodge from his throat. "Mr-M-Mr Mr-M-" He takes in a breath, trying to stop himself from stuttering so badly. "It's-it's-it. It's..." Nope, exactly like when he was ten then.
He's shaking so much-he hadn't noticed, and his teeth had been gritted and he feels a little like he might pass out. This isn't a dream. The Multiverse really did hate him enough to do this and he feels weak and pathetic because he should be able to handle it. Instead he falls right back into being a stuttering, shaky, scared mess.
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"Come on. Let's get you back on the train. I'll stay out here and make sure no one lets him on the train. We can talk later, okay?"
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What did Tony mean by 'the last time'? He wants to ask but his throat feels raw and somehow swollen-it's like all the words and questions had gotten stuck and now he can't get them out. He's not gonna go back to not talking at all, is he? That can't happen, right? He'd made so much progress but seeing him again.
He just wasn't ready. Not for that. He's not sure if he'd ever have been ready. Why in the Hell would the multiverse want to do this to him again? He takes in another sharp breath of air, he's falling apart and part of him wonders if Skip even cares that he's having a massive panic attack right in front of him because of what he did. But he didn't care when Peter had cried and tried to tell him no before-why should he care now?
But Skip had been his friend, how could he not care at all? Another breath and his teeth chatter as all he does and is nod at Tony, still not trusting himself to move and words still lodged painfully in his throat.
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"Petey, we need to board the train now. Look at me. Tell yourself, you have to get on the train and nothing else. Focus your thoughts to that one task. I'm not going to touch you, but I'm right here if you need me. You're safe and your only job, is to get on the train."
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He gives up on words for the moment and turns away, fighting with himself not to look back at Skip and moves further into the train. Mr Stark said he wouldn't let him on the train. There's nothing to worry about. He'll be fine tomorrow. Hopefully.
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"Peter, I'm just going to help you here okay? That's my hand on your back, we're just getting on the train- step up. Alright little more. Okay, turning you to the left and see that third row. You're sitting there. Do you feel like you're going to throw up? Remember you promised no more throwing up on me."
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He nods mutely as Tony leads him to sit down. Maybe once he's calmed down his voice will come back-he hopes so because he doesn't like how quiet he's gotten. Tony asks if he feels sick and he just nods. He doesn't nauseous, he doesn't think, or at least not completely-but he feels sick.
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"Peter, listen to me," Tony started in again. "You're going to be okay. Just let that go, it's done. It's over. You didn't do anything, it was all me. Okay? I've always promised to protect you and that's not going to change." He hadn't actually made that promise aloud before, but he was now. "I need you to focus on telling me you hear me. Just.. say something. Okay, fine, suck it you old man, whatever."
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How could this happen? Of all the people in world-in the multi-verse-how had this happened? He's so confused and there are so many conflicting feelings rushing through him but he can at least be glad that it didn't happen again. It didn't happen again and he should be grateful.
He vaguely feels the bucket or whatever being shoved into his lap and immediately is coughing up his morning's breakfast. He stops a second to breathe before heaving again. And Tony wants him to talk. That's nice, Peter would like Peter to talk as well, but his throat feels swollen and despite having just vomited, his tongue and mouth feel like cotton.
Say something. Anything. He coughs up a little more bile and just swallows.
"Where are Buttercup and Conan?"