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Peter isn't freaking out. He's totally not. He's breathing hard, and his hands are shaking as he grips the steering wheel, and he can smell acrid smoke coming out from under the car hood, and the world is on its side and- oh no, wait, it's me and the car that's sideways. He's not freaking out, except that he totally is.
"Ok, ok," he says between heavy breaths. He hasn't felt panic like this in a long time. There's different kinds of panic that he cycles through on a regular basis, like the panic he feels when he thinks he might have bombed a Spanish test, or when he shows up to class and no one is there because they're on a field trip that he totally forgot about and didn't get the permission slip signed for. There's the kind of panic he gets when May forgets to tell him that she picked up a double shift and he calls her phone and she doesn't answer, and all he can think about is Ben lying dead on the street, bleeding out from a gunshot wound. And then there's that special kind of panic he gets when he dreams about that night that they lost Ben.
But this is different. He hasn't felt this particular kind of panic and anxiety since the building got dropped on him and he felt like he couldn't escape. He's Spider Man, and one would think that Spider Man would fear for his life often. Peter has been shot at, stabbed (twice), and once ran out of webbing and fell three stories to the street, breaking a collarbone and his arm. He's used to being in danger, but this- something about being run off the road by a semi-truck and crashing a car into a ditch made his life flash before his eyes and panic well up in him after it was all over, just like in the warehouse.
"Ok," he says to himself again. He realizes that he's still gripping the steering wheel hard, hands shaking, and it takes several moments of his brain screaming commands for his hands to LET GO, before his fingers loosen their grip and he pulls his hands back. He stares at the steering wheel as though it's the cause of all of this. It probably is, he thinks, trembling hands reaching for the belt buckle. He fumbles with it for a moment before he finds the button and the buckle releases, freeing him.
The car is lying on its side in a ditch, so to open the driver's door, Peter has to push up against it and fight gravity. He manages to climb out after long moments, and then scramble up the side of the little ditch and to the shoulder of the highway. His hair is messed up, and he can feel bruises and scrapes across his body, but all of that is at the back of his mind as he stares down at what was once a very expensive car.
He's still shaking from the adrenaline of the wreck, but that all falls away to the back of his mind for a moment and his stomach drops. He'd crashed Mr. Stark's very expensive car. The man will never forgive him for this.
Cars zoom by behind him, ignoring the sixteen year old on the side of the road. He never should have taken Mr. Stark's car. He should have just skipped robotics camp. The semi had run Peter off the road, but it was Peter's selfishness that had caused this. He should have known better.
Peter had won a spot at a robotics camp in Buffalo. The camp was a week-long event at the end of June, and Peter had been excited to go, though that excitement had been followed up pretty quickly by disappointment when he'd learned that there was no way to get him to camp. May had tried to get a day off to drive him up to camp, but the hospital was short staffed and she couldn't swing it. As it so happened, Mr. Stark and Happy were both supposed to be out of town at a business meeting the same weekend that Peter needed to be driven to camp. His dreams of robotics camp had been crushed until Mr. Stark suggested that Peter borrow one of his cars.
"No, I couldn't Mr. Stark."
"Why not? You've had your license for four months now and I'm the one that taught you to drive. I trust you Pete."
Peter stares down at the crushed and dented metal of the black Audi in despair. The drive up to camp a week before had gone fine, but now? Mr. Stark's trust had been misplaced, and he's never going to trust Peter again. If only Mr. Stark had had a car for Peter to borrow that was already old and a little dented… then maybe Peter could salvage this situation. All of Mr. Stark's cars are expensive though. Peter had begged him to take the least expensive car, but that still left him driving a sleek black Audi that was only a few years old. Now the Audi is on its side in a ditch, front end and passenger side dented, dinged, scratched and crushed. The entire car is covered in dirt and dust and looks more like it belongs in a post-apocalyptic movie than sitting beside all the nice cars in Tony's private parking garage. Way to go Parker.
Cars continue to zoom by, Peter ignoring all of them. He barely notices when there's the slow crunch of rocks under tires as a car finally stops. A man gets out and calls out to him. "Hey, are you ok?"
Peter looks over at him. "I think so," he says. His mouth is dry. He swallows hard, but can't seem to produce any saliva.
The man walks over to him, giving the big scrape across Peter's chin a wary look. "You sure? You need me to call 911?"
He shakes his head. "I'm good."
"What happened?"
Peter clenches his eyes closed for a moment. He doesn't want to think about what happened. It would be rude not to answer though, so he says, "A semi-truck switched into my lane and didn't have enough room."
"He pushed you off the road?" the man asks for confirmation. There's anger underlying the question in his voice.
Peter nods.
"Damn truck drivers," he growls. "That happened to me a few years back. I didn't end up in the ditch, but damn near." He surveys the damage of the car, and then eyes Peter warily again. "You sure you're ok?"
Peter gives a jerky nod again, eyes locked on the car. Mr. Stark is never going to forgive him for this. He's not going to let Peter drive again, and he might even tell Peter to stop coming to the tower for lab days, and to stop coming over to just hang out, and to stop calling him, and-
"Whoa, breathe son," the man says.
"No no no no no," Peter mumbles to himself, and then louder says, "I'm gonna be in so much trouble for this!"
"Hey, take it easy. Why don't you call your dad, huh? Your dad can't be too mad. It wasn't your fault and insurance will pay for the damage to the car. If it was my son in a crash I'd just be glad that he's ok."
Peter thinks that he really does need to call Mr. Stark, there's no way around that, but it's not as easy as the man made it seem, because Mr. Stark isn't his dad, as much as Peter would like that, and he can be as mad at Peter as he wants to.
"Just breathe," the man says again, and Peter pulls in a deep breath. Calling Mr. Stark is going to suck. It might be the last time he gets to talk to him, and he's going to have to do it with panic in his voice.
"I think- I think my phone is still in the car."
"You can use mine, do you know the number?"
Peter shakes his head. He doesn't have anyone's number memorized. He takes a step towards the ditch and then slides down the gravel and to the car. He winces when his shoes hit the driver's side door and leave dirty scuff marks. The scuff marks can't make the car any worse than it already is, but they're definitely not making it any better either.
"Just be careful. Get in and out quick. The damage doesn't look too bad but you never know. I don't want that thing to catch fire with you in it."
Great, that's just great, Peter thinks. The possibility of Mr. Stark's car being a flaming fireball hadn't crossed his mind yet, but now it's there, firmly lodged in Peter's mind and refusing to budge. Peter fights gravity again to get the door open, surveys the front seat for his phone, and finds it lying against the glass of the passenger window. He doesn't have his web slingers on or he could use his webs to snatch it up. Instead he climbs gingerly down into the car, retrieves his phone, and then climbs back up and out. He scrambles up the side of the ditch again and accepts the hand the guy is holding out to help him back up onto the side of the road.
Peter pulls in a deep breath as he scrolls on his now broken phone screen to Tony's number. He doesn't hit dial and just stares at it.
"It will be ok, you'll see," the man says. Peter gives him an uncertain look, and then turns back to the phone and hits dial. Mr. Stark picks up after two rings.
"Hey kid, you back already? Have a good trip?"
"Uh…" He swallows thickly again, throat and mouth dry.
"Pete?"
There's nothing for it. He'll have to rip the bandaid off clean and get the yelling over with. He needs Mr. Stark to tell him what to do, because Peter doesn't know what he's supposed to do from here, if he needs to call the police, or a tow truck, or the insurance company or-
"Peter, are you there?" Tony's voice is tinged with worry because Peter still hasn't answered him.
"I'm here. I'm- I'm here. I- I crashed your car."
"Are you ok?" Mr. Stark's voice is oddly muted. Peter tries to read the tone, but he can't. Maybe it's because his ears are buzzing. "Peter! Are you ok?"
"I'm good. I'm fine."
"Where are you? I'm coming to get you."
"Uh…" Peter looks around, feeling disoriented. He'd been navigating with the GPS on his phone and hadn't been paying attention.
The man that's been waiting with him seems to know what Peter needs though and holds out his hand for the phone. "I can talk to him and give him directions," he says.
Peter hands his phone over. He doesn't know this guy from anybody, but he's overwhelmed and grateful for any help he can get. He barely listens as the man tells Tony where they're at and answers Tony's questions. Peter doesn't know what Tony is asking… he's probably asking about his car because the man answers with, "Not too bad, mostly scrapes."
Peter stares down at the wreck. It's a lot more than just scrapes, but it's nice of the guy to try to play things down. Unfortunately when Mr. Stark gets here, he's going to know that the guy was lying. The car is toast. It's probably still driveable, and Peter knows that Mr. Stark can fix anything, but he doubts that he'll want to take the time to fix this.
The man hangs up the phone and hands it back to Peter. "Why don't you wait in my car until he gets here."
Peter follows him back to his car and sits down in the passenger seat, door still open to let some cool air flow through while they wait.
It's an hour and a half until Tony and Rhodey show up. The time passes in a haze of Peter thinking about how the robotics camp really wasn't worth losing Mr. Stark over. He vacillates between anxiety and calming down just enough to try to come up with the words he can say when Tony gets there. If he can come up with a really good apology, then maybe Mr. Stark will forgive him and won't cut him out of his life completely.
"Hey, is that him?" the man asks. Peter looks up, blinks several times, and then finally the words percolate through his haze of thoughts and start to make sense. A car has just pulled up in front of them and Mr. Stark and Rhodey are getting out.
"That's him," Peter says. His hands are shaking again, not from adrenaline, but because he doesn't want Mr. Stark to yell at him. He'd been upset with Peter before, over cutting the ferry in half, and had taken his suit. That would probably have been the last time Peter had seen him if he hadn't crashed his plane after, and the only reason Tony had stuck around after that was because May had yelled at him and made him feel guilty for taking Peter to Germany. This time, Mr. Stark hasn't done anything wrong though, and there's nothing for May to yell at him for. Peter has really messed things up and doesn't know how to fix them.
Peter steps out of the passenger seat of the man's car and starts to fidget anxiously with the hem of his t-shirt. He expects Tony to start yelling right away, or else to start looking over the damaged car, but that's not what happens. Despite the hour and a half he had spent preparing to apologize, he's not ready for Tony to hurry right over to him. He's not ready to apologize, and he's not ready to lose this… him.
Rhodey blows out a low whistle as he surveys the damage of the car from the side of the road, but Peter can't focus on that because Tony is in front of him, checking Peter over for injuries.
"Sorry," Peter says. It's a lame apology, so he tries again as Tony lifts up the front of Peter's shirt, because there's a little blood down near the hem and he wants to know if Peter is bleeding out. "I'm really sorry for the car."
Tony ignores him. "Where are you hurt? Where's this blood from?" Tony finds a scrape across Peter's right side, and moves around to Peter's back, lifting up his shirt there too. There are a few bruises, but nothing major. "Come on Roo, where else are you hurt? Talk to me."
Peter does talk, but he's having a different conversation than the one Tony seems to be having. Peter isn't hearing his words at all. "I shouldn't have taken your car to camp, because now it's all crushed and- and it's not gonna be the same after this and-"
Tony moves on to checking over Peter's arms and hands, ignoring his rambling, focused solely on making sure that Peter is ok.
"I'm really sorry. So, so sorry, I don't know how I'm going to make it up to you, but I will, I promise, I-"
Finally Tony stops what he's doing, Peter's words finally reaching his brain. He stops cold, like he's been hit with some sort of device that can freeze him in his tracks, and stares at Peter, confused. "Roo, what are you even talking about?"
Peter goes quiet and the man that's been waiting with him says, "He thinks you'll be upset about the car."
Tony frowns, taking in his words, turns to look at the car, which he has yet to look at even once, and then looks at Peter and the scrape across his chin and the bruise on the left side of his face. "The car? Kid, I could care less about the car."
"I just, I'm so, so sorry," Peter says again. He's going to say more, but his throat feels tight. He does manage to get out, "I know how expensive it is."
Tony stares at him in shock, mouth slightly open. He sighs, then puts his hands up on Peter's shoulders. "Look at me." When Peter looks up and he's certain he has his full attention, Tony says, "That's just a hunk of metal. It's what's inside that's important. I'm sorry that I made you feel like the car was more valuable than you are. I can replace the car, I can't replace you, ok Roo?"
Peter's mouth is hanging open now. He nods, even though he doesn't understand. That car had to have cost a hundred grand at least. How can Peter be more important to him than that?
Tony pulls him into a hug, asks again if he's ok and if he needs to go to the hospital, and then finally, finally turns to Rhodey and the car to start talking about calling in a tow truck.
"See," the man says, coming up beside Peter. "All is well, just like I said. Your dad is just glad you're ok."
Peter stares up at the man, who is watching Tony and Rhodey.
"Your dad is just glad you're ok."
"That's just a hunk of metal. It's what's inside that's important."
"Your dad is just glad you're ok."
"I can replace the car, I can't replace you."
Your dad, your dad, your dad, your-
"Pete? You ok buddy?"
Peter snaps out of his thoughts and looks at Mr. Stark. The stranger thinks he's Mr. Stark's son, and Mr. Stark had rolled up concerned only about Peter, not about his car as if he's actually Peter's father.
There have been a lot of times that Peter has wanted a hug and not gotten one because he's been too afraid to ask. Mr. Stark does hug him sometimes, especially if Peter has been hurt out on patrol, and sometimes just if Peter has worried him, but never because Peter has asked.
For the first time since he's known Tony, he's not afraid that he'll be shot down for asking. "Can I have a hug?"
Tony's face softens from the worry that was painted there across his features. He holds out an arm and Peter crosses the few feet between them and presses himself into Tony's arms, face buried in his shoulder. This is nice, he thinks. He doesn't know what to make of all the new information about how Mr. Stark is acting like his dad, or about the crash, but this is nice, and for a few moments while he's here in his warm embrace, he can let his mind be still and silent.
"That was scary, huh Buddy?"
Peter nods.
"Yeah, for me too," Tony breathes.
"Your dad can't be too mad."
"I'm sorry that I made you feel like the car was more valuable than you are."
Now that Peter thinks back on things, he doesn't think that Tony ever has made him feel that way… as though he's unimportant, or that the car, or Peter's suit, or that literally anything is more important than his safety and well being.
Peter tightens his grip on Tony, and Tony squeezes him a little harder in return.