Archive of Our Own ^beta

"Hey, bud…just checking in to see how you're holding up. Catch you later. 'Bye."

Peter swallowed against the lump in his throat. Happy's voice brought back all the unwanted emotions that he'd been trying to avoid the past week. He'd let the call go to voicemail, but after ten minutes, couldn't starve his desire to talk to someone outside anymore.

His eyes burned. It was definitely a mistake.

He could still picture the scene in his mind as vividly as if it had just happened yesterday instead of a week ago: Captain America and Thor, fighting the tears that shimmered in their eyes. One by one, what was left of the Avengers sinking to one knee in honor of their fallen comrade. Friend. Hero. Pepper, bravely holding back her sobs.

“You can rest now.”

The light went out. Peter’s world plunged into darkness. And it had only grown darker since.

He scrubbed a sleeve over his eyes, blinking in surprise when it came away wet. When had he started crying?

A soft knock came at the door. “Peter? Are you all right?”

Peter cleared his throat and scrubbed away what he hoped was the last evidence of tears. “Yeah, uh, come on in.”

May pushed the door open slightly and poked her head in. “Happy called, said he couldn’t get a hold of you. Are you okay, sweetheart?”

Peter pressed his lips together even as he felt tears rising to the surface again. “Yeah, uh…” He cleared his throat and gave her a tight smile. “I’m good.”

“Oh? Because you don’t look good.” She slipped through the doorway and closed it gently behind her. “It’s okay to admit that you’re hurting, Peter.” She stepped toward him and placed her hands on his shoulders with a squeeze. “Take it from someone who knows.”

She didn't understand; how could she? Sure, she'd lost Uncle Ben, but that…that was different. There were few people in the world who could relate to a superhero kid losing his…well…super hero.

He stared at the floor and swallowed hard. He was tired of thinking about it, tired of using all the energy it took to ignore and override the thoughts and emotions warring in his head. Spider-Man should be above it all, should be able to cope better.

He wasn’t coping at all.

“I’m fine, May, really.” He hoped he sounded convincing enough; the last thing he wanted to do was talk through his feelings.

May hesitated, then sighed. “All right.” She stepped back and ran her fingers lightly over Peter’s tousled hair. “You in the mood for some Thai?”

The corner of his lips pulled up in a small smile. "Sounds good." He rose to his feet and followed her to the door, but she paused in the doorway.

"Are you gonna bring your suit? Just in case?"

"Um…nah…I don't think so." He couldn't bring himself to look at the cloth suit or the nanotech machine in the corner, much less wear either one. A sudden chill sent goosebumps down his spine, and he rubbed his arms. "Let's just go."

An hour later, Peter was shoving the remnants of his meal around on his plate, appetite gone.

"Sweetheart, you've hardly eaten anything." May's eyes were wide behind her round glasses. "Talk to me."

Talk. Talk was the last thing he wanted to do. "I'm sorry, May…" his voice trailed off. "Can I please just deal with it my own way?"

May's mouth screwed to the side. She talked slowly, choosing her words carefully. "Sure. As long as you're actually dealing with it.” She paused. “All I've seen you do lately is mope around your room as soon as you get home from school. You don't even go out at night. How—”

The pressure in Peter’s head built until he exploded. “Would you please get off my case?” He shoved away from the table and jumped to his feet, eyes burning. “I’m—I’m so tired of you trying to…to get me to open up about my feelings, and I just…” He broke off and squeezed his eyes shut, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’m sorry.” He opened his eyes and winced at the look on May’s face. It wasn’t her fault; she didn’t deserve this. “I’m sorry, May, I-I—” his voice cracked. Don’t break down, don’t break down, don’t break down.

“I’m just trying to help, honey.” She’d propped her elbows on the table, chin resting on clasped hands. 

“I know, and I appreciate it, I really do, I just…” He pressed his lips together, frustrated. “I can’t—I don’t know how to talk about it, and I wish I knew what to say, and what to do, but I—” he broke off with the realization that half the people in the restaurant were staring at them now. “Sorry,” he muttered again, sliding back into his seat.

May stared at him in concern for several seconds, then caught their waiter’s attention. “Could I have the bill, please?”

“May, I’m sorry—”

“No, I’m sorry.” She sighed and dug around in her purse until she found her wallet. “I was trying too hard to help you instead of just being here for you.”

Peter forced a chuckle. “There’s nothing to blame you for.” He rubbed both hands over his face and let out a long, slow sigh. “I’m really tired.”

“Let’s get you home.” She stood and slung her purse over her shoulder. “I’ll go pay, and I’ll meet you at the car, okay?”

He nodded, head bowed. Stupid, stupid, stupid. It took him several moments before he could muster the energy to shove to his feet. 

He exited the building behind a family of three. The little girl couldn’t have been more than three or four years old, and her father picked her up with a squeeze before settling her on his shoulders. She squealed, fingers wrapped in a white-knuckle grip around his forehead.

He thought of Morgan Stark, and his headache intensified; he wasn’t the only one that missed Mr. Stark. Happy lost his best friend. The Avengers lost their leader. The entire world lost one of their greatest protectors.

Peter’s chin trembled. Think about something else, anything else.

Morgan would have to go through school without seeing him in the audience during recitals. She’d walk across the stage and accept her diploma, the responsibility of taking pictures with all of her favorite teachers falling to her mom.

He wouldn’t be there to walk her down the aisle.

Peter grunted and leaned against the outside of the building, pressing his hands to his head.

Pepper would have to finish raising their daughter alone, the ring on her finger only serving as a reminder of her loss. The bed would be cold at night, with no one to whisper crazy ideas and crude comments in the darkness.

Peter stumbled around the corner and into the alley, where he slid to the ground and wrapped his arms around his knees, head leaning back against the brick wall. His body shook with suppressed sobs. Why…why…why…

“Peter?” May’s voice came from in front of the store, but Peter couldn’t bring himself to answer. He rested his forehead against his knees and struggled to breathe.

“Peter, are you okay?” Her voice came closer, and then she was there, kneeling next to him, placing her fingers underneath his chin and lifting his face to the light. “Oh, sweetheart.”

He clenched his jaw, tried to stop the emotions threatening to tear him apart, but a sob tore its way out of his throat and shook his body.

May pressed his head to her shoulder and her arms wrapped around him, as if trying to hold him together.

It wasn’t working.

His eyes squeezed shut, but it didn’t hold back the tears. “I-I miss him, May,” he gasped. Another sob shook his shoulders. “I can-can-can’t—” Why couldn’t he stop crying?

“Shh, baby, it’s all right.” Her murmured words were soothing as her hand stroked his hair. “I know it hurts. I’m here, I’m here…”

No, it’s not all right, Mr. Stark is gone, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts…

He clutched her in his arms with a desperate grip, as if letting go would mean letting go of himself. He didn’t know how long they stayed there, but May never made a move to leave, and he soaked in the comfort that came through her touch.

He didn’t think he’d ever lose the pain, but somehow, having May here…something took the edge off. He swallowed hard and pulled back, swiping a sleeve across his eyes. Maybe he would be okay.

Maybe there was a light at the end of the tunnel after all.