Yeah, there was no way Tony was sleeping tonight.

  Don't get me wrong, he'd tried, really tried. But every time he closed his eyes he would see the frail figure of Peter Parker laying curled up next to his dead aunt painted on the back of his eyelids.

  Nothing like a haunting image to wake you up in the morning, Tony thought, taking a long swig of his coffee. He glanced over at the clock, the digital letters burning his bleary eyes.

6:23am

  Jesus Christ..

  "Boss, Mr. Parker has a increased heart rate and his anxiety and stress levels are raised significantly," Friday's voice echoed in the empty kitchen, causing Tony to nearly drop and shatter his coffee mug. He really should look into making Friday quieter..maybe a night-setting..

"Mr. Parker has also not received any effective rest in approximately 43 hours, sir," Friday chimed in, knocking Tony from his thoughts which had already morphed into several new designs and plans to improve Friday.

The billionaire nodded hastily, reminding himself that he had more important things to worry about. He gently set his coffee mug in the sink and shuffled down the hall to Peter's room.

***

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Peter could hear Mr. Stark's footsteps getting closer, could practically see the anger in his eyes from the teenager waking him up, hear the yells roll off his tongue.

He couldn't do this. Not here, not now.

***

Tony quietly wrapped on Peter's bedroom door, barely waiting a beat before cracking it open and stepping inside.

"Pete?" He called into the darkness. It was eerily quiet in the bedroom. "Friday called me...said you couldn't sleep. Everything alright, bud?"

Tony waited for a response, being met with only silence. He sighed, knowing the kid was probably embarrassed. He shuffled further into the room, patting down a part of the bed before sitting down.

"Kid, i get it if you're embarrassed or whatever, but it's okay if you can't sleep, if you're feeling anxious. If anything, it's normal after what happened today. I just want you to know I'm here..if you want to talk, or just like bro-hug it out or whatever." Tony cringed. That was not how i imagined that would sound.

Instead of silence, Tony heard the faint scuffle of feet come from..the ceiling?

What the fuck...

***

Peter mentally cursed himself, quickly re-attaching the bottom of his feet to the ceiling. Of course he would lose his grip. Of course.

"Pete..are you on the ceiling?" Mr. Stark's voice came from below the teen, the genius's eyes fixed on the ceiling.

Peter didn't know how to respond. Should he just drop down and admit defeat? Just take what was coming? Or, could he escape?

"Peter, i can see you."

Shit.

  "'M sorry, Mr. Stark," Peter mumbled, hopping down from the ceiling and clumsily landing on the bed. Tony grimaced as he was nearly thrown from the mattress.

  "I-I really didn't want to bother you. I mean-it's just little kid stuff-nothing worth waking you up over. I'm sorry, it won't happen again, i promise Mr. Stark. You can leave now," Peter rambled, nerves coming off him like heavy cologne.

  Tony gave the kid a weird look, like are you serious? Before tentatively reaching out and putting a comforting hand on his shoulder. Tony knew he wasn't good at touchy-feely things, but he also knew that Peter Parker deserved for him to try and be.

  "Underoos," he started, not really sure where he was going with it. "It's fine, trust me it's more than fine. It's okay to not be okay, especially after your aunt just...," he trailed off, not wanting to finish the inevitable.

Peter made a small noise, one between a laugh and a sob. "Died?" He finished. "Yeah, i know. Just like everyone else."

  Tony pulled back in alarm. "What? Peter, no."

  Peter rubbed his eyes, looking so small among the huge bedroom that it made Tony ache. This poor kid.

  "You don't have to feel bad. I saw it coming. It was going to happen sooner or later. I guess i just didn't think it would happen this soon," Peter elaborated, the words heavy on his tongue. "Everyone i love eventually...kicks the bucket. It's just how it goes. I'm used to it," Peter said, rubbing his arm self consciously. He sniffled. "It just hasn't hit me yet. That she's really gone, that is. Even after i lost everyone, i had her."

  Tony glanced down, not sure what to say. What is there to say? I'm sorry for you loss? No, this wasn't a loss. This was a fucking tragedy.

Peter sniffled dryly, the silence between the two making the room feel stuffy. "I'm sorry i woke you up. I thought you would be mad," the teen repeated.

  "Pssht," Tony said, knocking his shoulder playfully against Peter's. "I'm not mad. I will never be mad at you for needing me, understand?"

  Peter nodded, a yawn crawling up his throat. He nuzzled his head into the crook of Tony's neck, suddenly too tired to worry about it.

Tony sighed in contentment, letting his fingers massage the boy's curls. He knew the kid was drained, both physically and emotionally...but he couldn't stop thinking about how his aunt's death hadn't hit him yet. Like, what was that supposed to mean?

What's going to happen when it does hit him?

The genius reluctantly let himself enjoy the moment, the kid's head resting on his chest, sleep weighing down heavily on them both. He was too tired to worry about it.