Peter can't sleep at night.

It's a little childish, really.

Or, he feels childish. He knows he wouldn't look down on anyone for feeling the way he feels, but he still continues to judge himself.

He thinks he's scared of the dark. Or, something like that.

He hates thinking about it, so usually, he pushes it to the back of his mind. He knows the reason for it. It was easy to connect the dots seeing as just days after he lifted that building off his shoulders, he started to sleep with the lights on.

He feels unsafe- uneasy when they're off. The utter loneliness he felt with blocks of concrete stacked on his back comes rushing back to him, turning his veins to ice.

He'd tried to get over it and sleep with them off but he'd either not fall asleep at all, sitting on his bed with his shaking frame, or fall asleep and wake up with these same emotions. He wakes up there, choking on dust and sweat and tears and he'd do anything not to be back there.

Peter doesn't tell anyone about this. They already see him as a kid and he doesn't need anyone more than himself to judge him.

He's almost been found out multiple times too. It isn't hard to see the bright light shining through the crack under a door in a small apartment, so when May gets up in the middle of the night she assumes he forgot to turn it off and flicks the switch. At this point, Peter wonders if it's some spider thing and he's nocturnal now because he wakes up within minutes in a cold sweat. He thinks he'd be more proud of this if he were nocturnal.

One night, May got home from work and noticed this once again and she opened the door this time to see Peter awake, sprawled out on his bed and staring at the ceiling.

"Peter. What are you doing up?"

"Couldn't sleep."

"Maybe if this light was off, it'd be a little easier," she jokes.

"Sorry, I forgot," he mutters, turning over on his side. He notices how she hesitates before sitting down on the edge of his bed.

"What's going on, huh? I can tell you're tired but you're not sleeping. You're leaving the light on a lot. You didn't do that before."

"I told you, I just forgot."

"Just tell me you're safe. That's all I care about. You're not waiting for a murderer to come find you?"

He laughs tiredly. "No, May. I'm not. Sorry I worried you."

She smiles and runs her fingers through his hair.
"Don't be. Now go to bed."

She exits the room and leaves the light on this time.

He begins to be even more frustrated with himself and decides to force himself to sleep with the lights off, and the nights get so much worse. Before, he just felt unrested after sleeping with the lights on. Now, he couldn't sleep a full night at all. When he did nod off, nightmares plagued his mind.

He's so beyond exhausted.

He thinks about telling May or Tony but he can't. He doesn't like the idea of saying it out loud. He's embarrassed his first solo mission turned out so bad he can't get it out of his mind. He doesn't feel like a real hero.

Just weeks later, he's spending the night at the tower, once again trying to shake this fear. He tosses and turns, feeling as if dust is sticking to his sweat. He can smell the rust from leaky pipes, and it's like the pressure of concrete blocks are pressing against his chest.

He pulls at the collar of his shirt, taking a deep breath.

He kicks his covers off and lays there for another few moments before giving up and making his way to the kitchen.

He sits at the dining room table, hugging his knees to his chest.

He hears the soft padding of bare feet coming closer. He glances up through his bangs to see Morgan. She stops and stares at him before rubbing her eyes sleepily,
"Petey."

He sits up.
"Morgan. What are you doing up?"

"Wanted a glass of water," she mumbles. "Why are you up?"

He hesitates,
"Uh, couldn't fall asleep."

"Cause the dark's scary?"

He's stunned into silence.

"I am too," she says casually with a shrug of her shoulders. She walks over and sits next to him, setting her glass down on the table. "It's scary. You can't see anything."

Peter remains quiet, looking down at his socks.

He's relating to a six-year-old.

"I can get dad if you want. That helps."

"No."

She stares at him.

"I mean, no thank you. I'm fine. That's not..."

"You can borrow my nightlight."

"No, Morgan, I don't need a nightlight," he laughs. "Thanks though."

They both sit in the silence for a moment, unsure of what to say.

"My dad's arc reactor helps. Feels safe."

"I don't need to... thank you, but I'm fine, ok? I'm all good. Why don't you go back to bed?"

"Only if you do," she grins.

He smiles, rolling his eyes.
"Fine."

He tries one more time to let exhaustion take over, but he remains staring at the ceiling, eyes drooping.

He ends up with his back against the frame of Tony's bedroom door. He scrubs at his face, tired and embarrassed it's gone on this long. Long enough to be convinced in sitting outside Tony and Pepper's bedroom finding comfort in the sound of their heartbeats and soft snores. The room is softly lit by his mentor's arc reactor, a bluish hue hitting the walls.

It finally calms his nerves and he begins to feel his limbs becoming heavier.

He shouldn't be surprised Morgan was right. He'd just seen it as a childish way to cope, but she is the child of Tony Stark, so it makes sense she'd have good ideas.

Before he passes out on the ground, he makes his way over to the couch and finally sleeps a full night. It's close by, so he can still hear the muffled sound of their hearts beating slowly. Calmly and very much living.

From then on, he sleeps on the couch.

He'd done it most nights he slept over at the tower now. Pepper and Tony caught on quickly though, finding him there most mornings.

When they ask about it, he just mumbles something about accidentally falling asleep there, or he had been having a hard time falling asleep the night before.

Tony watches him closely nonetheless. Peter can tell he doesn't believe him. The man knows him well- he can tell there's more to this. With Peter, it seems there's always more to his habits than he lets on. Especially when Peter begins to make more and more excuses to have movie nights. Even though the three of them agree enthusiastically every time.

On this night, Pepper carries Morgan to bed and recommends the two of them get to bed as well. Peter feels his palms sweat at the idea.

"Alright kid, I've gotta agree with Pep on this one. It's late."

All Peter can do is stall.

"Since when do you want to sleep at a normal time? Isn't an awful sleep schedule, like, your whole brand?"

"Funny. It's actually impulsive decisions and technology. You were close though."

"We could just watch another movie-"

"No need. It's almost 1:00 am, kid."

"So?"

"So, that means you need a decent amount of hours. You look exhausted. You didn't even look like this after finals week and you passed out on my couch for 14 hours after it ended. You wanna tell me why you're not sleeping? and when you are, it's on the couch- which is ok. That's totally fine if its more comfortable but I'm curious. Is the bed uncomfortable? The room too much?"

"Wha- no! I-it's not- the bed is fine. Everything's fine it's just... more comfortable out here."

"Is the size of your room overwhelming? We can move you to a different room."

"The room is fine," he stresses, "I'm just..."

Tony waits and becomes confused when he doesn't finish his sentence. He tilts his head,

"You're just... what? I'm not judging or anything, Pete, just worried. Whatever this is, it isn't healthy."

Peter stares, feeling weak. Physically and mentally. Gravity pulls at his limbs and his eyes sting. He's so tired of living like this. How could his first solo mission completely ruin him? How embarrassing is that?

"I... It's just..." he pauses before his head and shoulders drop with surrender. He whispers like someone else may hear him, "I can't sleep."

"I gathered that. Something tell me you know why."

"I can't sleep when... when it's dark." Peter grimaces, "Because... because of the building incident. I freak out when it's dark and I feel like I'm back there..."

Tony watches him, soaking in any information he can get so he can come up with a solution.

"Not sleeping in your room helps?"

"No. No, its light. When the lights are off, I feel like I'm back under the building and I can literally smell it, taste it- it sucks, Tony," he says, voice cracking. "I feel pathetic. My first solo mission broke me."

"Hey," he mumurs, gaze hardening, "This did not break you. Let me ask you something: do you think I'm broken? After everything?"

his jaw drops, "What? No, never!"

"After I was kidnapped in Afghanistan, I couldn't go near any body of water for years. I'll let you guess why. And I felt broken too after the wormhole. I never slept. I'm still fixing that- I still get panic attacks." 

"But you... you went through a lot worse than me- you've had so much more to deal with-"

"Nah-uh, we're not comparing traumas. That's not what this is about. I'm telling you this because these things don't break you. They make life harder, yeah, but you aren't ruined. You're still Spider-Man and you save people every night."

Peter stares at his feet.

"Ok."

"I'll keep repeating it. God, I know this feeling is awful. I'm sorry you didn't feel like you could come to me with this, kid."

"It's not your fault I'm embarrassed," he mumbles. "It makes me feel like a little kid."

"You're not. You're mature and good at your job, and this is just a minor setback, ok? Let's figure out something to help you out. What have you found that helps?"

"Uh... sleeping with the lights on all night. I don't stay asleep but at least I'm not having a flashback. Also, uh..."

"What?"

"Morgan may or may not have told me your arc reactor light makes her feel better. And she was... she was right. That's part of the reason I was sleeping out here."

"Ok. Ok, we can work with that," he mumbles, scratching at his goatee, "Follow me."

Peter complies, but stares at the man confusedly.

When he's about to ask what's going on, something heavy is dropped into his hands. He looks down and his jaw drops at the sight of an old arc reactor.

"What..? Tony," he looks up desperately. "This is yours."

"It's old. I don't use it," he shrugs, "Still works though."

"Tony I can't take this."

"Why not? Think about how cool you are having Tony Stark's real arc reactor as a room decoration."

"Jeez, you're talking about yourself in third person again. You need to fix your ego, man," he laughs.

"And you need to fix that sleep schedule," he shoots back, pointing in the direction of Peter's room. "Bed."

Peter throws his hands up in surrender, "Ok fine I'm going. Thanks, Tony."

He grins,
"Anytime kid. You can talk to be about anything- seriously. No matter how insane it is, I'll probably relate."

Peter walks back to his room slowly, staring at the arc reactor. It does look cool.

Peter sets it down gently on his bedside table before laying down. He stares at his walls, coated in a bluish hue.

He smiles softly.
It's a nice feeling to have someone in your corner.

He shuts his eyes.

Finally, he sleeps.