Chapter Text
"Jackson?" He's careful not to startle his boyfriend. The elder had been uncharacteristically quiet for three days, and it's starting to worry Peter. "Do you wanna talk about it?"
Jackson finally raises his head, eyes red and puffy from crying. "Pete... I did something really bad."
"Hey, Tesla." There's no way the monster from his past was speaking to him right now. "Been a while."
Jackson straightens up and turns to face the reason he still had night terrors to this day. "What the fuck do you want?"
Skip tilts his head. "That's not a very nice way to talk to an old friend." Jackson's gaze traces the scar trailing from below the blond's left eye to his chin. "Like it?"
"Figuring it's what prison does to people who hurt children, you're lucky they didn't do worse." His anxiety is beyond measure and he doesn't want to risk his powers on the one person he likely wouldn't be able to stop himself from harming.
Peter's gone completely pale. Aside from the night Jackson recounted his trauma, Peter had done research on Skip Westcott. He needed to know who could be so twisted, so evil to hurt anyone who couldn't defend themselves. The dossier made him physically ill, moreso when he saw that Jackson wasn't Skip's first victim.
He sits beside him as a support. Jackson lets out a quiet sob and leans into Peter's lap. Peter brushes Jackson's bangs out of his eyes.
Skip puts a hand on the wall beside Jackson's head, leaning in. "I heard tell of this diminuitive wannabe Avenger, usually seen with Spider-Man. Know who I might be talking about?"
Jackson's trying to maintain steady breathing but he can feel his heart stop. He and Peter put a lot of bad people away, but he never imagined the two aspects of his life converging.
"I didn't think of it too much at first but then it was all about Kid Kinetic, whose mouth ran faster than his two-fifty-three IQ. Wasn't long before I figured it out and when I told them I had an inkling who Kid Kinetic really was, they were ecstatic!"
Jackson wishes his brain to mouth filter worked. "My moms, my friends, my boyfriend... Everyone I care about, all because of your sick little revenge fantasy?"
"He knew, and he was fucked up enough to follow through on it." The crying has subsided but Jackson won't look at Peter, leaving the younger terrified of what Jackson might've done to keep his secret safe.
Skip muses. "Boyfriend, huh? I was sure I destroyed the confidence of being loved."
Jackson glares. "Again, I'll ask, what the fuck do you want?"
"The seven years you stole because you couldn't keep your pretty little mouth shut."
The thought of causing some kind of cardiac arrest crossed Jackson's mind more than once. Not like anyone would miss Skip, and the world would be better off.
"Of course you're deluded enough to think I'm at fault." Jackson shoves Skip away. "I'm not the lonely kid you can gaslight anymore. I spent years believing I would never be good enough. I found someone who loves me. You won't ruin that."
Skip looks surprised at the display of bravery, and smirks. "That's cute, Jacks–"
"I blasted him." Jackson stares at the ceiling. "Not like my MIT tutor, that was self-defense. Not like the bad guys we fight, that's normal. He had no upper hand in the situation. I blasted a powerless civilian because I couldn't stand the thought of him ruining my life again."
Before Peter can reply, there's a knock at the door. Jackson remains seated, head buried in his hands. Peter goes to answer, surprised to find... "Mr. Stark? What are you–"
"Shanley." Jackson looks up. "He'll live."
Skip puts a hand to his stomach, where he feels a burning sensation. "What did you do?" He looks back at Jackson, hand outstretched, smoke fizzling into the crisp night air.
"If you just left well enough alone, I wouldn't have done it!" If Jackson's guilt complex got any worse, it might kill him. "Goddamnit. C'mon." He grabs Skip's collar and blips them to safety. Sometimes he really hated having a moral compass. He impatiently raps on the door, shaking his mortal enemy every few seconds to keep him conscious.
"It's past midnight. What do you want–" Tony's agitation dissolves at the sight of Parker's disheveled boyfriend and some guy he doesn't recognize—who's bleeding from the abdomen. "Bring him inside."
"I wanted to kill him because I thought I'd never be able to be loved. I mean, he can die for all I care but I'd rather it not be on my conscience." Jackson looks at Peter. "I hadn't heard back in a few days so I thought he died, hence I said I did something really bad." He bites his lip. "You don't hate me, do you?"
Peter cups Jackson's cheek. "I could never hate you. That you would save someone who not only hurt you in such a horrific way but you'd still ensure live is such an honorable thing to do. I don't know if I could do that."
Tony looks down at the teen. "I thought he was a bystander who got in the way. Then I found out what he did to you, to others like you–"
Jackson's eyes widen. "What do you mean, others?"
"You weren't the first," Peter explains, "but you were the last."
"I spoke with an old colleague at Birch Psychiatric Hospital, and Steven Westcott has been committed. He gave me the whole 'I'm cured!' spiel but he won't be able to hurt anyone anymore. If you want, I can set you up with a great therapist–"
"I already have one." Jackson rises and stands awkwardly for a moment before hugging his mentor. "Thank you."
Jackson fell asleep quickly that night. Peter stayed up to work on an assignment. Every so often, he'd look over with a smile. They've been together about a year and a half now, and no day was ever the same. When he really thought about it, Jackson was unlike anyone Peter knew. After Uncle Ben died, everything seemed so bleak. But his internship, and this peculiar, chaotic good mutant with the most unorthodox set of morals... Maybe things couldn't be all bad.
Jackson was unpredictable, Peter never knew what to expect. Tonight was beyond that; Jackson wasn't exactly the most magnanimous to those who hurt him, at least if the encounters with his former classmates were anything to go by. But Peter knows that Skip was far and beyond what any of those guys did, and he wants nothing more than to protect him from his inner demons.
Jackson whimpers softly and Peter moves to comfort but stops short. There's a smile on Jackson's face, and a second later, he relaxes with a sigh. His night terrors weren't constant but they happened often enough that Peter was prepared.
Peter puts his laptop aside and turns out the light, cuddling into Jackson's side. "Night, Jacks."