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Peter Parker does not have issues with food. Sure, he won’t eat for full days at a time, but that’s because he’s trying to help, it’s not an issue, it’s the answer.
It’s a good thing that he likes it now, right? May can’t waste money on his food if he likes not eating.
Of course, he eats enough that he can still fair well as Spider-Man. His metabolism does make it difficult, but he manages to get just enough that he can still fight.
It was just because of money, originally. May paid less for Peter when he didn’t eat. And Peter stuck the hunger out for May.
But the hunger started feeling better than the food tasted.
But it wasn’t a problem. He was bound to get used to it, he knew this. But even he could feel how weird it was when he denied food from Mr Stark.
There was a look he would get. Mr Stark would furrow his eyebrows, then he’d shrug it off but Peter could tell he was still thinking about it.
He would explain it to Mr Stark, but he wouldn’t get it. He’d think Peter had an eating disorder or something.
Which wasn’t true.
—
Peter could only look at his food. A brown bag with a logo on it, muddled by grease stains.
May had ordered take out. Peter saw the receipt. It had cost $54.99 for both of them.
$54.99.
Peter could only stare at the burger before him.
$54.99.
There was no point in wasting it, that’d be worse.
$54.99.
But the food tasted like the price.
$54.99.
Peter was on his 12th bite.
It started hurting.
He threw up the burger.
He wasted so much.
$54.99
—
Mr Stark had offered Peter a portion of dinner. Spaghetti. Peter loved spaghetti, back when he liked food. He’d sit and eat with May and they’d chat. It used to be nice.
But now he could only think of each bite as if he were biting cash.
He shouldn’t worry when it was Mr Stark, though. Mr Stark is a billionaire.
But all he could see was prices. He could only see dollars and dollars wasted on him, someone who’d only throw it up.
Peter said he’d already eaten. Mr Stark gave him the look.
—
It was a lab day and Peter was excited. Mr Stark had mentioned that Dr. Banner might drop by and Peter’s hopes were through the roof.
When the final bell rang at school, Peter rushed to get his things and get to Happy’s car. He wasn’t even bothered by the loudness of the bell this time, he had other things to think about.
Peter slid into the backseat and put his book bag on the seat next to him.
“You alright, kid? You’re vibrating.” Happy spoke up, sounding both bored and curious.
“Mr Stark said that Dr. Bruce Banner might drop by today!” Peter knew he was fanboying, but he didn’t care. Be might get to meet Bruce Banner!
Happy made an ‘ah’ noise to show he’d heard Peter, and the rest of the drive was silent.
Once at SI, Peter practically skipped to the lab, grinning to himself.
He hopped in the elevator and pressed the button. While in the elevator he noticed it.
Peter’s vision felt almost.. delayed. It was like there was too much motion blur. And he was dizzy.
Peter hadn’t gotten sick since the bite, so this shocked him.
He figured it could be the cause of him Spider-Manning until late last night.
So, he shrugged it off and stepped through the elevator doors when they opened.
—
Meeting Dr Banner was something Peter would surely never forget.
He’d rambled for far too long and Mr Stark had to step in to stop him, but Dr Banner didn’t seem to mind.
Dr Banner was super nice, and everything was going amazing until it happened.
He had been speaking to Dr Banner when Dr Banner had told him he looked pale. Mr Stark agreed.
Peter argued, but soon enough, FRIDAY stepped in and Peter lost that battle. She’d said he hadn’t eaten enough and Mr Stark and Dr Banner had agreed to take a trip to the canteen.
He was inconveniencing them.
Peter felt sick. He could never not inconvenience people. It was in his blood. He’d been told many times that he was a nuisance, by many people, and he knew. He knew and selfishly, he wished he didn’t.
Peter knew he couldn’t stomach the food. He couldn’t shove someone’s money and time down his throat and keep it down. He was awful.
Dr Banner and Mr Stark noticed Peter’s silence, and Mr Stark spoke up.
“You feeling alright there, Underoos?” Mr Stark asked with the tilt of his head.
In sync with the tilt of Mr Stark’s head, the world seemed to follow.
Peter only realized after he hit the ground that he’d been moving, not them.
—
Peter woke up to blaring white lights.
He winced as they attacked his eyes, he hissed in pain. He could hear someone at his side mutter a curse, there was shuffling, and the lights went out.
Peter sighed with relief, his eyes now recovering. He blinked them, once, twice, a third and he was fine.
He sat up in what felt like a hospital bed.
He turned his head to see a familiar face next to him. Mr Stark.
But he looked a bit different. The bags underneath his eyes looked more prominent, and his eyes themselves looked downturned.
His hair was a mess, and his posture was even poorer than usual.
“Mr Stark?” He questioned. “What’s going on?” He didn’t remember anything that would warrant waking up in the medbay.
“Hey, Pete.” Mr Stark smiled softly, which was out of character for him, it was unsettling.
“You passed out, Underoos. Care to explain that?” Peter furrowed his brow. He didn’t know what had happened.
“I- I’m not sure. Can you explain? I really don’t know.” Peter had a good idea of what could’ve happened after a moment of thinking, but he didn’t say anything.
“When was the last time you ate, Pete?”
There it was.
Peter could feel his stomach drop. Mr Stark was going to think he was broken.
Mr Stark was going to think he was insane.
Mr Stark was going to think he had some sort of disorder.
“I can’t remember, Mr Stark.” He winced as his voice cracked. He was lying. He’d last ate three days ago at 9:43 AM. He’d thrown that up.
“Well, according to FRIDAY, it was not recent enough. Is there something you want to talk to me about, Pete?” And Peter couldn’t take it anymore.
Peter didn’t bother trying to stop the tears.
Soon after the tears started, a warm hand was rubbing comforting circles into his back.
“I’m so sorry M-Mr Stark. But I ca-can’t.”
Peter choked out. The hand didn’t stop.
“Can’t what, Pete?” Mr Stark’s voice was soft, which was, again, out of character.
“Eat. Any food May gets is her money and then I just got used to it and now eating makes me sick and I-“ he couldn’t finish.
He knew this was it. Mr Stark was going to keep his distance, was going to leave Peter, like he should.
But Mr Stark didn’t move.
“You’ll get through this, Pete. I’ll be here. You’ll be okay, I promise.” Mr Stark pulled him into a hug and Peter froze momentarily.
And for a moment, Peter felt like that might be true.