Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Evolution does not happen to individuals in nature. It’s a gradual process that takes many generations. The best an individual can hope for is having some weirdo genetic trait that gives them an advantage over everyone else or they learn to adapt with what they have. Peter Parker liked to think he’s doing the best he can with his genetic differences and his knack for adaptation. 

Things change for him a lot. Once he had a house and a set of parents, then it was an apartment with an uncle and an aunt. Then only an aunt and a smaller apartment. And now he’s back to a house. Funny how that works. Things change all the time in nature and those that can adapt gradually evolve as a species. 

Peter’s probably not a new species though. He could most likely interbreed with a human and produce fertile offspring. Probably. Not that he wants to try that out. Especially now. 

Okay. 

Enough of the 2:00am thoughts. Peter rolled over to reposition himself on his hammock of webbing to face the phone that was dangling in the air, also suspended by a web. When he unlocked it, the time read four in the morning and he moaned. Only three hours until he had to be up for school. 

Sometime later there was a knock on the front door. Peter groaned and saw he still had an hour and a half before he usually got up, but he knew he should take the business. He jumped out of his silken hammock and crawled down the wall where his staircase was supposed to be. 

Peter took a deep breath, undid most of the locks, and opened the door slightly. A medium sized round man stood on Peter’s porch. He immediately knew the type of person the man was. “I don’t fix weapons.” 

The man shifted but kept a twitching smile on his face. “I’m not here for that. I need this fixed.” The twitchy man held up a gaming system and a broken remote. “My boy was a little too hard on it after he lost a game,” he laughed.

His spider senses weren’t going off, so it was likely he had no ill intent. Peter looked the man up and down but didn’t let himself relax. “When do you need it finished by?”

“As soon as you can. My boy is very unhappy that he broke it and I figured you’re cheaper than a new one.”

“I usually am. Give me a moment to set up.” When Peter started to live here, he tried to remain as unnoticed as possible so no one would bother him or turn him into social services. Thankfully, the house was seen as too damaged for other homeless people to squat in and there were plenty of other dwellings on the block for people like drug users and dealers to do their business in. There was fire damage all over the kitchen, particularly the floors, and it also destroyed the staircase.  

As time went on, Peter started bringing home more and more electronics, mostly old and broken stuff that no one wanted and started fixing them up for fun. It was something to do between school and Spiderman and kept his skills and mind sharp. It started becoming more of a business when one of the local children wanted to see what he did all day. After a small lecture about talking to strangers and entering their homes, Peter showed her some of his schoolwork and things he’s built. Sometime later, the young girl came back with her wary mother who needed her old phone repaired so she could work. And from then on news started to spread that the kid living in the burned-out house can repair any electronics.   

It was a decent way to get by and he definitely preferred it over cage fighting. A few people gave him money for his services, others bartered, and some provided him food or a mixture of the three. The only two things he didn’t take in were drugs and most weapons. He’d only take weapons if they were interesting, like alien technology or wild creations. Someone offered him a homemade flamethrower once, and how could you say no to that?  

Unfortunately, such skills don’t go unnoticed by bigger fish forever. 

“My boss’ offer still stands, you know? You could be out of this dump by tonight.” The place is a dump, but it's home. The front room was his workspace with a couple tables set up that had various machine parts scattered about and a dark green stained coach for his ‘clients’ to sit in while he worked. It allowed a few feet of separation between him and the random people he let in his house.

Peter hummed as he tinkered at his workbench. Every so often people come by to try to recruit him for whatever (most likely illegal) operation they were trying to do. While Peter didn’t particularly remember this man from the others, the answer was always the same. “I know, and I have to decline. Thank you though.” The mechanics inside were just shifted a bit and he had to rearrange some things, but the console would live again. “I have a relationship with Stark Industries.”

The man lit a cigarette. Rude. “Seems like a bad relationship.”

“Sometimes,” Peter said with a small smile, but kept his head down. “Working with S.I opens doors.” 

He took a drag from the cigarette. “Being associated with Stark can close a lot of doors too. He tends to screw people over. Do you have a tray?”

At least the man was nice enough to try not to get ashes all over Peter’s (admittedly already kinda gross) carpet. Even though Peter didn’t smoke himself, he had multiple ashtrays ranging from cheap plastic ones to funny ceramic and a couple really pretty ones. He chose his favorite, a ceramic one that said, ‘Ashes and Asses go here!’. A nice old lady gave it to him, along with several meals, after he fixed various parts of her house. 

“Here you go.” Peter handed him the tray carefully and kept his eyes steady on the man. It could have easily been a ploy to get him close enough to attack. He hated being alone in the house with a strange man, but his spider senses were still quiet, and he really needed the money.

While Peter was up, he removed one of the boards off the window to let in natural light. He had to cannibalize so many of the old schoolhouse calculators for their little solar panels and connect them to any batteries he could get his hands on. It worked for the little power they gave off and it was better than starting up his generator this early in the morning.  

“I need to go grab my tester television; I’ll be back in a moment.” When everyone has almost nothing, they want what little others have and it was a small problem when Peter first got into this business. He still had to go outside for school, be Spiderman, and collect new scraps which would leave his ‘home base’ unattended. It’s why he chose not to fix the busted floor of the kitchen or put up a ladder or something to replace the stairs. He’d heard robbers in the middle of the night wonder how he got to the second floor without being able to climb on walls. 

They can’t steal what they can’t reach so every time Peter leaves the house, he needs to bring his stuff to the second story, set a few alarms, and startle traps. It was fine to leave out small scraps, but not something as valuable as a television. 

As Peter worked the man talked at him. The twitchy man chatted almost aimlessly, his cheeks becoming rosy with color after he pulled a flask from his tan sweater coat. Every once and awhile he would comment on something that Peter was doing and spoke how he was a tinkerer himself mostly working on weapons. In response, Peter would just hum and nod his head.   

“The console works again, but the remote’s motion controls are shot. I can switch it out with another I have here if you don’t want to buy a new one.” The home screen showed a profile picture of a young smiling boy and the system had a large timeslot dedicated to Minecraft. 

The man nodded, pulled out his wallet, and put down a clip of bills with a business card on top. “When this free trial you have with Stark ends, give us a call. Maybe we could swap information, teach each other. And my boss is a good guy, a real family man.”

The card had a set of bird--phoenix?--wings and read Bestman Salvage. “I’ll keep that in mind, thank you. I hope your son has fun with his games.”

“I’m sure he will.” He extinguished the cigarette and left with the game system

Peter relocked the doors before returning to the table to inspect the clip of money. The family he had was long gone and there was no way he would be getting into this one. It was a lot more money than he’d normally ask for, but hey, he gets to eat three meals today and tomorrow. The job only made him a little late in getting ready for school, so it was worth it. 

First step of the day: make sure everything was where it was supposed to be. His workbench may look like a mess, but it has a particular order to it to maximize efficiency. Then he gathered his higher valued items again to move them upstairs. 

Next steps: check his webs. When he got here, the house was by no means structurally sound, so Peter had to spend a lot of time weaving the webbing in a way that the house wouldn’t collapse on him. His bedroom had the heaviest webbing with most of the ceiling covered, his beloved drapes, and hammocks all made from his biological webs and his non self-dissolvent synthetic stuff. 

“Now breakfast.” 

A half dozen cocoons the size of his hand dangled from the ceiling by strings. He pulled one down and ate the silk on top before drinking the contents inside. His powers were amazing and unbelievably useful, but the biggest downside was nutrition. His lifestyle didn’t allow for refrigeration, ovens, or microwaves so all his food had to either be bought or freshly caught.

The ‘nutrition sacks’ as Peter liked to call them, are only ever 1 to 3 days old and are filled with the liquid remains of rats and occasionally pigeons he catches in the other webs he has around the city. 

Step three: greet Karen. “Hello Karen, good morning.”

“Good morning Peter, you’re late today. You must leave in 2.6 minutes if you wish to make it to school on time at your preferred pace.”

“Thank you, Karen,” Peter said as he grabbed another nutrition sack. 

“You’re welcome. Were you able to fix the item that was brought to you?”

As Peter finished up his morning routine, he went over his interactions with Karen. They continued to talk as he swung to school. Karen was the best thing Peter got with the relationship with S.I, she even beat the new suit because she was with him all the time, not just when crime fighting. 

Peter landed three blocks away from school to change out of his suit. “I’ll see you after school, Karen.”

“Have a nice day Peter, I look forward to tonight.”

“Me too,” he whispered. As Peter approached school, he tried to make himself as small as possible. He kept his head down and tried to ignore the rush of smells, lights, and noise that assaulted his senses. No one paid him much mind as he stared at the floor and waited for Ned to show up. 

“Hey Peter,” Ned greeted, “ready for our chemistry test today?”

No actually. Peter didn’t even know they had a chemistry test today, but he nodded anyway. They walked to homeroom as Ned went through what he did the night before and then a new fan theory on Star Wars he found on Reddit. Peter listened dutifully as Ned went on. With each death of his family members Peter became quieter in public. Most people knew his story and accepted this fact with thinly veiled pity. The teachers and peers who didn’t were either met with silence of soft responses that were hard to hear.  

The day went by at a normal pace with mostly nothing of note happening except that Flash tried to bully him today. Like Peter’s voice, Flash’s torments also went down with each death, but it was a tossup if it was because of pity, genuine empathy, or social pressure. Flash couldn’t openly bully Peter anymore, so he became sparser and more strategic about it.

He must corner Peter in places like the bathroom, an empty hallway, or the locker room. It was the easiest with the last one because Peter was always the last one out and he liked to change in the bathroom stall instead of out in the open. 

“What’s wrong Penis? Got something you don’t want anyone seeing?” Flash sneered. 

Peter kept quiet and tried to walk past Flash without any conflict. Making himself look smaller and sad didn’t work with Flash, sometimes it made him angrier. 

Flash blocked his way and caused Peter to take a step back. “I was talking to you.”

It would be easy to break Flash. He still thought Peter was the same boy that couldn’t run more than a quarter mile and lift more than thirty pounds because of his myriad of health problems. To think, the only thing standing in his way now was his morals. As easy it would be, I never would. 

“You think you’re too good to talk to anyone, huh?” Flash persisted. He took steps towards Peter to push him back until he met a wall. “You think you can just look down on me?”

Considering Flash was right in front of him, and Peter was taller it was difficult to not physically look down on him. The next best thing was to not make eye contact.

“God, you make me so angry. People think you’re so smart and brave, but you can’t even look in my eyes.” Flash was close enough that Peter could feel his body heat which felt just as warm as his anger. 

Peter’s breath picked up and he could hear his heartbeat in his ears. To stop his hands from shaking he attached them to the wall behind him slowly. His spider senses which were always at a low hum at school, started to scream at him, but Peter was frozen.  

The locker room door opened and Mr. Fallow, their gym teacher entered. “Peter, I know you get extra time to change, but you still have to come to class.” He paused when he saw Peter and Flash, who took a step back. “Is everything okay here, boys?”

“Yeah, Mr. Fallow, I just got in a bit late and was just talking to Peter,” Flash said as he started to walk out of the room. 

When Flash left, Mr. Fallow turned to Peter, but didn’t walk closer. “Are you okay Peter?”

Peter nodded.

“He didn’t, uh, do anything to make you uncomfortable right?” Mr. Fallow shifted and looked down at his clipboard.

This time Peter shook his head. 

“You can tell me if he did or, or a school counselor if that makes you feel more comfortable. Or a teacher that isn’t me, that would be okay too. You can talk to anyone you need even if it isn’t about Eugene or school related.”

“I’m fine,” Peter said firmly.  

“Okay.” Mr. Fallow fidgeted in his spot for a moment before turning away. “Take as much time as you need.” And he left. 

Peter sighed and spent a few minutes alone in the locker room. It wasn’t the best place to be. It smelt like B.O, the fluorescent light bulbs gave off a hum, and they made everything have a slight off white tinge to it. Eventually, he was able to unstick himself from the wall. From outside, he could hear people talking, basketballs being dribbled, and Flash was probably waiting for him.   

He wished he were at home.

Chapter Text

There were multiple things that woke Tony Stark up in the morning that all culminated together to make him wish he were buried six feet under. Even before his mind came into awareness, he could feel the crushing pressure of a headache and the buzzing in his chest made it unbearable. The worst part of it all was that he never woke up in the morning, it was usually midafternoon, and the sun was fucking blinding. 

“Fuck. Why don’t you ever dim the windows Friday?” Tony groaned. 

“It usually causes you to get up faster Boss,” Friday responded with sass. 

“Then I guess I need to buy some fucking curtains then.” 

“That I would control because you would automate the opening and closing?”

“Alright, enough of the sass, I’m getting up.” Tony knew moving would cause his head to swim even more, but after vomiting what was left in his guts it felt better. Then nothing an egg, Worcestershire sauce, salt, pepper, tabasco sauce, and some time couldn’t help. Even after a shower and some new clothes I still felt like shit. “Any messages for me, Friday?”

“No, but Ms. Potts forwarded some important emails and documents that you should look at,” Friday responded. 

“Just business?”

“Yes.”

“Anything from Rhodey or Shield?”

“No sir.”

Well, nothing to do today then. One too many ‘sorry I almost died’ and suddenly no one wanted to talk to you. Not necessarily true, but it felt like it sometimes. Since everything went down with the Avengers and after his injuries, he’d given Shield a wide berth and they have yet to reach out to him aside from a general debriefing. Rhodey’s still in physical therapy and they talk on a semi regular basis, but Tony knows he needs his rest. 

Most days he has no direct emails, calls, or visitors. On the television they only show old footage of him in his suit. Whenever he attends a conference, and he rarely does, he only hears people speak of the man he once was. It’s like I’m dead and I’m a fucking ghost in my own life. It was maddening. It had proven much better for his health and sanity to say that he is still in recovery. Pepper never calls him out on it. 

She hasn’t even called. 

In some place in his mind, he knew that it was unfair to do this to her again and there is probably a good chance that she’ll come back. She always comes back. But how many more times can he do this to her? Is this the kind of relationship she should have? One he should have? Another part of his mind doesn’t care what he should think or feel, just that he knows he wants her here.

Because here has nothing. Before his thoughts went any further down that road, he strode into his liquor pantry. As he reached for one of the bottles, Friday interrupted him. “It’s been three days since you’ve last been in the lab.”

The indirect threat only caused him to pause for a moment. “Well, people have been telling me for years to get out of the lab more, so let's shoot for four!” His fake cheerful voice echoed through the space and he raised the bottle to Friday’s silence. 

It’s silent in the penthouse--except for the goddamn humm--which is part of the problem and the glorious solution. No one is around for him to disappoint or hurt. Besides, since he finished Rhody’s legs he hadn’t had much need to go in the lab unless he goes on a two or three day work binge on the suits. 

“What would you like to do today?” Friday asked. 

Sometimes it was hard to know if she was judgmental, disappointed, upset, angry or any range of emotions. It was a lot easier to tell with Pepper. After years of his shenanigans, it was easy to tell the different flavors of disappointment she had just by her tone of voice and stance. He would give anything to have that back again. 

Tony looked down at the brown bottle and the watch on his wrist that housed the controls for his latest Iron Man suit. Almost anything. 

“Boss?”

“Read me something.”

“The first email Ms. Potts sent is the earnings for the last quarter and the projected-”

Tony rolled his eyes and fell backwards onto his couch. “I don’t want to hear about that.”

Friday went silent for a moment. “There has been a new breakthrough in automobile battery technology-”

“Ugh, not that either.”

“Then what would you like to hear?”

And oof, Tony didn’t need the sight of a woman with narrowed eyes and crossed arms to know that she was annoyed with his shit. “I don’t know, nothing to do with work. Something fun.”

“You could watch television.”

“Like a commoner?” Tony said sarcastically. “Besides, what's on right now falls under work.” 

This time Friday was silent for a few minutes and idly, Tony wondered if she left him too. If it was even possible for an A.I system to leave the tower without a physical body or vessel. It probably was, and at this point Tony wouldn’t blame her. It was honestly creepy the thought that she couldn’t leave and-

“So, ugh. Um. I’m not sure how I’m supposed to start this.” The voice was somewhat familiar because it was an odd sort of puberty squeaky mixed with hoarseness. “But I figured I need to report the things I’m doing because I’m a superhero and you guys are all about oversight right now, right?”

“Friday, what the hell is this?”

“Audio reports that have been submitted to Happy Hogan on Spiderman’s activity by Spiderman,” Friday answered.      

“Huh, okay. This works.” He’d forgotten about the kid after Germany, sue him. There was a lot going on with everything and Tony didn’t have time to think about the kid he’d given the Stark seal of approval with an official suit. Not his best move, but nothing he could do about it now. Besides, it was probably for the best that Tony didn’t have much interaction with the kid. Can’t screw him up that way.

God, the kid was just as awkward as Tony remembered him being, especially in the beginning. But as he rambled on, he began to loosen up and talk about some of the hero activities he did through the day from helping a cat out of a tree to grabbing a balloon a littler kid let go of to giving directions to tourists. 

Hard to imagine that he was the same Spiderman who took on members of the Avengers, making quips the whole time. Tony had looked at that footage once to get a good glimpse of the Winter Soldier himself and saw Spiderman 'battling’ both him and Wilson. It was amazing, watching him catch a heavy metal fist that Tony knows can bend the frame of a car easily. He knows because he saw it, a man bending the metal of a car while surrounded by smoldering burning terrain. 

“Boss, would you like to listen to another?” 

Startled, Tony looked up. “What?”

“I can play another if you’d like. Or I can find something else.” For some reason Friday sounded calmer and more patient than before. 

“Yeah, play another. Might be a good idea to see what Underoos has been up to.” Tony fell back on his couch and spilled some of the contents of the clear bottle. 

“I can get visuals from Karen if you’d like.”

“Karen?”

“The name of his A.I. Or would that be too much like commoner television for you?”

“Very funny.”

Listening to the kid’s adventures felt like he was binging his new favorite Netflix show. Some of this stuff was the fucking funniest shit he’d heard in a while, to the point where he’d ask Friday to pull up a visual of the event happening to see how they matched up with Underoos’ retelling. Tony’s favorite so far was when the kid swung away after he saved a woman’s purse from being robbed and he flew right into a flock of pigeons. And then they were angry pigeons. 

There were only two things wrong with the arrangement. The first was that watching some of the kid’s footage when he was just swinging around made Tony a terrible mixture of near heart attack inducing panic and motion sick, so he couldn’t watch all of it. Seriously, the number of times the kid is only inches away from being splattered into pavement was frightening. The second was that after a while the kid started using Karen and sometimes his reports as a diary and he’d talk about his day. 

Can’t blame the kid for letting some things slip, considering he mentions multiple times he thinks no one is listening to these. Rookie mistake, if Tony sees him again, he’ll have to let the kid know. Not that it was likely that I’m going to see the kid any time soon. 

Listening to the kid was also somewhat eerie. Vaguely, Tony could remember taking apart various electronics to see how they worked when he was around Peter’s age. And every once and a while Tony would hear him talk about his schoolwork and bullies to Karen when he pulls up the visuals of the events rather than just the report audio. And the girl he talks about. Kid’s got it bad. 

“Play the next one Fri. And how many more of these do we have?” Tony asked. Now he sat on the floor with a pizza box on his left and a pile of bottles on the right. Every once and awhile she got him to eat actual food. 

“You still have seventy-two hours of audio and potentially weeks of visuals and counting if you’d like to look at all of it. But first, I’d like to inform you that Spiderman is on his way to the tower.”

Tony quickly stood up, and when the penthouse stopped spinning, he looked to the ceiling. “Why?”

“Karen has informed me Peter has sustained an injury from an unknown alien weapon on his right shoulder and he cannot deal with the wound with the current supplies at his disposal.”

“Is it life threatening?”

“No, it’s a graze. But it caused a large, strange burn. He is currently twenty minutes away.”

“Shit. Do we still have the supplies here to deal with it?”

“Yes, I’ll direct you.”

Admittedly, it probably took longer than it should have for Tony to walk around his own goddamn apartment just to grab medical supplies, but he managed to get everything as the kid came up from the balcony.  His poor million-dollar suit had cuts, holes, and burns in multiple places which is almost impressive due to the durable material he used to make it. “Geez kid, you should really come here when you need repairs done on that thing.”

The kid nodded and limped into the penthouse and left a large space between himself and Tony. 

“You going to come closer, kid? Can’t treat you from ten feet away.” Tony tried to say it in a joking manner, but the kid still didn’t walk closer. “Okay, the stuff is on the island.”

Spiderman nodded and slowly walked over to Tony’s kitchen. He didn’t take his eyes off Tony the whole time. The eyes of the suit became small as Tony stumbled over to him. 

Without the quips and jokes, the kid is vaguely intimidating. “Calm down kid, I’m just looking over your suit and injuries. You really should have come in sooner to take care of those tears.” 

“Sewing is enough,” Spiderman said quietly. 

“Maybe for a couple holes, but I’m sure you still need a systems upgrade. Like getting your car serviced after driving it so many miles,” Tony tried to joke again. 

It was met with silence. 

That’s fine, I’ve worked with tougher crowds before. The kid started to dab his skin with cotton balls soaked in some biological fluid Bruce made up before he disappeared. Once the alien gunk was off the kid’s skin Tony could literally see the injury slowly mend itself. “We should keep those,” Tony said gesturing to the cotton balls, “to analyze and make sure that junk on you won’t have any lasting damage.”

“No.”

“No? Kid, that stuff could be eating through your muscles or giving you cancer.”

“I heal.”

“Whatever, kid. Hopefully you can deal with the lasting effects if there are any.”

Spiderman tilted his head and went back to bandaging his upper arm. “Always do.”

Tony stood and watched the kid. He didn’t seem to need any help with gauze or anything, but it's not like Tony could go back to his previous activity. He swirled the glass that was in his hand. When did I get a glass? “So kid, how’d you get something like that in the middle of a Thursday afternoon?”

“It’s two in the morning on a Friday.”

“What?” Tony looked outside, and it was indeed dark. Wasn’t the sun blazing through the windows a minute ago? “Look at that. Alright, so how’d you get shot by an alien weapon in the middle of the night?”

“Out on patrol.”

It was hard to tell if the kid was trying to sass him or not. Due to the volume of his voice and the fact he couldn’t look Tony in the eyes, he’s leaning towards no. However, from the footage seen the kid can also be a little shit, so debatable. “If you don’t want to tell me now, I guess I’ll just have to wait to hear it in your report.”

Now that got the kid’s head to dart up. “You’ve been listening to those?”

“Mostly Happy gives me the highlight reel, but sometimes I listen to the whole thing,” Tony lied, “I really enjoyed that one with the angry pigeons attacking you.”

“Thanks,” Spiderman muttered with a huff. 

“Don’t be like that kid, the other stuff was cool too like stopping cars saving a window washer.”

“Thank you.” This time the kid sounded more sincere. Once he finished up with the multiple of scratches and abrasions on his body, the kid started to fidget. “And thank you for helping me. I’ll um, head out.”

“I don’t suggest you swinging home with your injury, Peter,” Karen said.

Tony looked up and squinted. “I didn’t authorize you to be in my ceiling.” While looking up, he began to lurch slightly, but stumbled to catch himself.

“I am authorized to help Peter in any way possible and I have determined that he shouldn’t swing home while he is healing.” Karen said patiently. 

“Alright, suggestions?” Tony asked. 

“He could stay here for the night-”

“No!” the kid cut in.

“Or someone could take him home.”

Well, given those two fantastic choices and a vehement denial of one. “Friday, call Happy and tell him to drive the kid home.”

“It’s fine, I can get home by myself. I can walk, I walked here, it’s fine,” the kid said in a shaky voice. He started to slowly move towards the (closed) balcony doors. 

“Mr. Hogan has received the directive and is on his way here. ETA is twenty minutes,” Friday informed. 

“Excellent!” Karen said in a cheerful voice, “I would also like to inform Peter that you still need to consume 1000 calories today.”

Geez, Friday hadn’t yet reached the point where she was counting Tony’s calories through the day. Hopefully it didn’t give her any ideas. “You’re welcome to the fridge and pantry while you wait, kid.” 

“That’s not necessary-”

“I’ve brought up what you can make and take while you’re here,” Karen said over him. 

While the kid rooted through Tony’s (admittedly bare) fridge and cabinets, he went back to his liquor cabinet. “You know kid, I don’t care if you eat all my food if you’re ever here. You’re just not allowed in here,” Tony joked. 

Spiderman had a box of granola bars under his arms and was in the middle of making an omelet. “Thank you, Mr. Stark. Are you setting up for a party tomorrow?”

“It’s a new day kid. Need to start early.”

Something shifted in the kid’s stance as he put the omelet on his plate. “Would you like me to bring you to bed?” 

“Nah, I’ll probably stay up for another couple hours.”

“You seem pretty tired,” The kid commented. “You’re starting to sway, and you almost fell looking at the ceiling before.”

“It’s called a second wind, kid.”

“Or you’re high on endorphins and you’ll crash harder as soon as they wear off.”

The kid’s voice was calm and placating to the point that it teetered on the edge of offending him. “If I go to bed then you need to come in sometime to fix the suit.”

“Deal,” the kid said easily. 

Well shit. “Fine, whatever.” He’d just wait the kid out. Happy would be here and the kid would need to rush out to leave to not keep the man waiting. 

The kid scarfed down the omelet like he hadn’t had eggs in years. Then he washed all the dishes that were piling up in Tony’s sink. Great now I owe the kid extra.  

“Let’s get you to bed.”

Tony tried not to put too much weight on the kid, even if he could take it. He’d just watch Spiderman lift cars after all, it’s not like he couldn’t carry one man, but pride dammit, pride. They eventually reached the bed, and by the time he was laying down on his side, Tony could feel himself fading. A blanket was thrown over him and there was the sound of something being placed on the table and the floor next to the bed. 

“Good night Mr. Stark.”

His door closed. 

Tony was alone again, except for the constant humm. 

Chapter Text

“Hey man, you want to come over to my house after practice? We could get a head start on the chemistry project if you want,” Ned asked. 

“Busy,” Peter responded.

“Dude, Mr. Dickenson really needs to let you get out more.”

Peter hummed in response. It sucked lying to his friend, but he didn’t want Ned to know the truth because if his friend found out Peter was living in an abandoned building then Ned’s parents would find out. Then they would either send him back to Mr. Dickenson or ask him why he no longer wanted to be within 2000 feet of the man. It was a hell of a lot easier to avoid the man and only go to his house during scheduled CPS visits. 

“Are you okay? You’ve been looking at that row of lockers for like, five minutes,” Ned asked.

“He’s been pretty spacy all day,” MJ commented. 

MJ’s sudden appearance caused him to tense. She never made his spider senses go off, which was a little annoying since she almost seemed to teleport behind him. Usually, Peter skated by because no one bothered to look into him closely. Teachers thought his home life was okay, Ned always wanted to hang out at his own house, and no one on his block gave him much thought after he fixed their stuff. But not MJ. It’s like she’s always watching.

“Repeat?” Peter asked. 

“I asked if you thought Mr. Dickenson would allow you to come over to my house on Saturday to hang out and sleepover. We can do the chem project and have a pizza night with some Star Wars.”

“I’ll ask,” Peter said. It’s not that he didn’t want to hang out with his friend, it’s just that he was busy with work and Spiderman most days. Whenever he hung out with Ned it was hard to stop thinking about the money he could otherwise be making or the people he could save. 

The only thing worse was staying over at Ned’s and not sleeping because there was a stupid part of his brain that couldn’t turn off. It wasn’t even his spider senses, it was just him, lying on the floor awake because Ned’s dad could potentially come in at any time. It was a normal thing for parents to check on their kids at night, and Mr. Leeds has never given Peter ‘the vibe’ once in his life. But still, what if? 

Then there were the even more shameful thoughts and feelings he sometimes got whenever Ned moved in his sleep. During those moments when panic swept through Peter’s body, he had to remind himself that Ned was his childhood friend and he would NEVER do anything to harm him. But then again, childhood means nothing to some people.

Someone touched his arm and he jolted away. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?” 

Ned looked and sounded worried and MJ was analyzing him. 

Peter nodded

The trio walked into Mr. Harrington’s classroom for Decathlon practice. Most of the team was already there, so MJ split from their group to get ready to lead the team. Peter sat down at an empty desk and Ned sat next to him and began a conversation with another teammate. Peter chose to stare at his desk so no one would bother him.

There is always someone who will though, but this time it’s not unpleasant. “Hello Peter, did you have a good day today?” Liz Allen was one of the few people Peter looked forward to seeing through the day because he had no baggage with her. They weren’t friends per say, but she was always nice to him. A genuine nice that wasn’t given out because of pity.

“It was alright,” Peter answered truthfully. “I hope yours was better.”

Liz smiled. “It was pretty good. No tests today, so that’s always good.”

“Yeah. I got a test back today though, and that’s almost worse.”

“Did you not do as well as you wanted?”

Peter smiled back at her. “Didn’t study as much as I should have. It was okay though; chemistry is kind of my element.”

She snorted, “I think you’re good at alkynes of things.”

“You like chemistry puns too? A real lady of taste.”

“Periodically, I find them funny,” Liz joked back. 

“I want to tell you more, but they argon from my head.” Conversation was so easy with her and it was so rewarding seeing her eyes sparkle with each joke. 

“Yo, can it Parker, no one wants to hear your shitty jokes!” Flash yelled from across the room. 

When he was talking to Liz, it was so easy to forget that there were other people around. Peter slid down on his chair, brought his hands to his chest, and went back to staring at his desktop. 

“Fuck off Flash, and everyone quiet down. Mr. Harrington will be here in a minute and we need to come up with a strategy if we want to get to States this year,” MJ said from the front of the room. 

Practice went well. It’s not like Peter didn’t know most of the answers, he just needed to be careful about showing the speed he was capable of when ringing the buzzer. And the thought of speaking a lot in front of multiple people makes me want to throw up. It was well known that he only answered questions that took less than a sentence. Flash complained that he didn’t pull his weight on the team at times, but MJ always defended him. 

Today, Flash didn’t give him any snide comments when he answered questions (he didn’t even say that his S.I internship was fake!). MJ was especially patient with him, and Mr. Harrington gave him gentle encouragement from a safe distance away. It was good. Today was good. Everything went so smoothly that they finished early, which everyone was happy about with-it being Friday. 

Everyone was packing up and exiting for the day when Peter noticed Liz left one of her textbooks under her chair. He lightly tapped Ned on the shoulder and gestured to the book in his hands. 

“Is that Liz’s book?” Ned asked.

Peter nodded.

Ned smiled at him, “go get her, dude. Let me know what Mr. Dickenson says about staying over.”

I’m so lucky to have Ned as a friend. It only took a moment to catch up to Liz, who just made it past the front school doors. “Liz.” When she turned her hair flipped and looked so shiny in the sun. “I um, think you forgot your book in the uh, classroom.”

“Oh, thanks! Forgetting this would have made my calc homework impossible.” 

“It’s no problem.” Lately it was getting difficult to look her in the eyes and his heart sped up. 

“Have a nice weekend.” She gave him a shy smile and a little wave.  

“You too, Liz. See you next week!” She was so warm and bright, and she treated him like a person and not a delicate cracked glass figurine. 

Liz got into her car with her mother in the driver’s seat as Peter turned away. When he started to walk off school grounds, but by straining his hearing, he could just barely make out the conversation. “So, who was that? Someone your father and I should know about?” Liz’s mother teased.

The little interaction put him in a good mood all throughout the afternoon while he did homework and helped people with their tech. Someone gave him soup to eat for dinner and he got all his homework done before his usual patrol time of eleven o’ clock. 

Now it’s time for fun.

“Ready for a great night, Karen?” Peter asked when he put on his mask.

“It’s always a great night with you, Peter,” Karen responded back cheerily. 

“Awe, thanks Karen, you’re the best.” With a TWIP, Peter launched himself between various high-rise buildings in the borough. Sometimes when he was falling from the sky, he would laugh like a mad man just because he could. When you’re flying through the air, no one can touch you or make fun of you. Except for Karen, but she’s okay. 

Peter had a rough routine he followed through his patrol so he could simultaneously search for law breakers and check his webs around the city. Like with his webs at home, he liked to keep them clean and orderly otherwise, he’d get a little twitchy. It was just one of the many things he had to adapt to after he got powers. Peter also found he had a strange enjoyment that stemmed from not being on the ground. It’s like something switched in his head when he was climbing a wall or hanging upside down on a ceiling.

One of his first stops was an abandoned water treatment plant. It was one of his favorite places because the building was so unstructurally sound that it was only him and his food. It also tested his abilities and senses, like practicing stealth and using his super hearing to pinpoint things from different vantage points. As his body acclimated to its surroundings, everything became easier to see, a clear sign his pupils had expanded to catch more light. There was movement in one of the webs. 

Jackpot. 

It took time, but after much trial, error, and it got easier to predict where the small creatures would be. He shot a thick web over the heads of the struggling rodents first and then carefully restricted their limbs. It was for the best, so he could wrap them up in a cocoon without being bitten or scratched. 

And now the hard part.

When his fangs first came in, his mouth was in terrible pain for days. The fangs rest on the roof of his mouth when not in use and flip down when he strikes. They are small, only about two inches long and hollow to transfer venom from some other organ that developed in Peter’s mouth. 

His fangs pierced through the webbed cocoon easily to inject death into the small squirming body. He’s done many experiments to see how it works and how to make it as painless as possible, and Peter liked to think he’s doing the best he could. The victim needs to be alive for his venom to circulate through the body and liquify everything and Peter knew it was painful. When the venom first started to develop, some would get into his mouth, throat, and stomach and it was only through his own healing factor and gradual immunity that he’s alive today. It’s a horrifying process, and the first few times Peter had to do it, he cried. Sometimes late at night he still does.

“Timer set for eighteen hours,” Karen said.

“Thanks Karen.” It took about an hour or so to liquify most of the soft bodied tissue, but if he let them sit longer it can start to break down hair and parts of the bones. Karen happily told him once it was a good source of calcium and he should try to let them sit to get the best nutritional benefit. He finished wrapping the rats and moved onto the next location. “Sometimes I feel like Santa, carrying a bag of goodies on rooftops.”

“If Santa brought children liquified rat remains,” Karen joked.

“Why can’t I be Spider Santa, delivering liquified rats to all the good spider children around Queens and eventually all over the world?” 

“I suppose you are Spider Santa then,” Karen commented, “since you’re the only spider child we know.”

Peter gasped, “you wound me Karen, I am not a child.”

“By law you are a minor Peter.”

The retort that Peter had on his lips froze when the sound of glass breaking came from an alleyway below him. He dropped his silk Santa bag on the roof and slowly began to crawl down the side of a building. There was more scuffling and movement under some trash bags. Alright, probably not a person who is hurt or drugged out. But it might be something to eat. 

A small brown chihuahua popped it’s head out and yipped at Peter.

There was a part of Peter’s body that screamed: yes, that is prey. His tongue darted over his fangs to stimulate venom and his muscles tensed before his mind caught up to him. Nope nope nope nope nope. We don’t eat dogs here. 

She continued to yap and yip at him as Peter picked her up to look her over. “Awe, she has a collar. Karen, could you direct me to Shiva’s owner?”

“Of course, it’s only four blocks away. Make a right when you leave the alleyway.”

Good, I don’t need to swing with her in my arms. The little dog happily barked and tried licking various portions of his suit until Peter gave in and pet her. She’s so cute! One day, I want a dog. It was only a short time for him to get to the building and find the apartment on the second floor. 

The little boy and girl were almost in tears to have Shiva back and their moms thanked him greatly and gave him some fruit snacks. Score. The kids also insisted in photos with their hero, and who could say no to that? He waved his new friends goodbye and left through their window. 

“Alright Karen, got anything else for me?”

“It’s a quiet night Peter,” Karen answered. 

Which was code for: there are things going on, but they are above your paygrade designated by Stark Industries. “Nothing Karen? Nothing at all you can give me? Pleeeaaaseeee?” Peter practically begged.

“Nope.”

“I guess I’ll need to find my own fun.” Peter smiled under his mask. It seemed everyday she was becoming more and more human, getting better and less stilted in conversation. Most days it feels like she’s real.  

Find his own fun he did, in the form of a mugging that earned him a nice slash on his arm as Peter jumped in to save the potential victim. After the assailant was webbed up and the police were called, he returned to the rooftop he left the nutrition sacks. He quickly tore one open and carefully downed the contents inside and then threw it back in his Santa sack. No littering here.

“I would suggest medical attention.”

“Why? I just drank some calories, and I had those fruit snacks. I should be fine.” Peter looked down at his arm and sighed. This one just healed from that alien stuff last week. It was more of a shallow cut, but it was long, and the middle of the slash was about deep enough to need stitches. 

Karen hummed in displeasure. “Yes, but you’ve only consumed 500 calories and your healing has slowed due to the temperature drop.”

Damn my difficulty in thermoregulation. “If it makes you feel better, I’ll give myself stitches when I get home.” 

“It does not.”

“What would you like me to do?” Peter asked, annoyed. “I can’t just waltz into a hospital and I’m not going to Richard’s house for this.” The guy would probably try to use the injury to his advantage. 

“The tower is a five-minute swing away.”

“No. Absolutely not. I’m not going to the tower.”

“It would be the best course of action.”

“I think the best course of action would be to go home and rest.”

“While that would also be fine,” Karen started, “some other reasons are that the tower has a surplus of food, Friday has informed me the penthouse is kept at 85 degrees Fahrenheit, medical care, general human interactions, the security system-”

“Okay, I get it, there are a lot of reasons I should go.”

“You wouldn’t have lied to Ned about being busy.”

Ouch. “Come on Karen, that one hurt.” 

“And you still need to keep your promise to Tony about returning to fix your suit. Which is another thing I recommend.”

Peter securely webbed his Santa bag to the roof to the building and THWIPPED to the next. “I’ll go, just stop attacking me.”

“Your ETA is 12:23 am.”

Someone sounds pleased with herself. 

Peter felt the wound reopen every time with every swing. It burned and it hurt, but it was by no means the worst injury he’s had. Doesn’t even crack the top ten. Ugh, shouldn’t think of the word crack. I wish I could just go inside and use the elevator; it would certainly save on calories. As he hoisted himself up to the balcony the doors slowly opened for him. A rush of warm air enveloped his body causing Peter to shiver and sigh with content. 

“Greetings Peter. Welcome back.”

“Hello Friday. Thanks for letting me in. Is Mr. Stark around?”

“In the kitchen, kid. Got all the stuff out,” Mr. Stark called from across the apartment. 

Just like last week, Peter started to tend to his wounds at the kitchen island. “The suit?” Peter asked quietly. He kept his eyes on the stinging slash on his arm. 

Mr. Stark poured himself another glass of Cognac. “It’s pretty early still, I could spend a few hours in the lab.”

Peter nodded. He could be back home and get a few hours of sleep before people start knocking on his door. 

“I’m sorry Boss, but I cannot allow you in the lab at this time. Your blood alcohol level exceeds the threshold for safety,” Friday said.

“And Peter should not be in the lab with an open wound,” Karen added. 

Why did she tell me to come here then? Especially since the knife slash will likely be gone by tomorrow afternoon and it didn’t actually need stitches. 

“Fine, I’ll hold off when I wake up tomorrow and we can work in the lab then. Sound good kid?”

“Sure.” 

“You can stay the night here or you can go home and come back tomorrow, I don’t really care,” Mr. Stark said with a wave of his hand. Some of his drink eclipsed the glass and spilled onto the counter. 

“Home.”

Mr. Stark shrugged, “whatever kid, I’ll have Happy drive you again.”

“No, that’s-”

“Happy has been notified and will be here in twenty minutes,” Friday interrupted. 

“While you’re here, you should eat something to stimulate healing,” Karen butted in.

Why are all the A.Is against me? He looked over to Mr. Stark to gauge his reaction, but the man was leaning into the countertop with a thousand-yard stare at his liquor. Well, he did say that I could eat whatever was in here. The fridge and cabinet were barer than they were last week. Peter settled on two jelly sandwiches on stale hotdog buns. Better than garbage. 

Throughout his meal, Peter watched Mr. Stark carefully. Just like last time, it was difficult to determine if the man was drunk or not when he first arrived. It only took a few minutes of interaction to determine that ‘functional alcoholic’ should be added to the man’s list of descriptors. 

Which is fine, Peter could deal with drunks. He dealt with them all the time. 

The thing with drunks though, is that alcohol lowers inhibitions and they tend to be brazenly handsy compared to the normal person. I’m sure it wasn’t the crotch guard’s intended purpose, but I’m glad it’s there. It was mildly terrifying to think that Mr. Stark could be one of those guys, but he’d never given Peter ‘the vibe’ that he would be. 

The ones with lingering eyes and touches.

“Need help getting to bed Mr. Stark?” Peter asked the now swaying man.

“No. I’m not going to sleep yet.”

“You look tired and we’re going to be in the lab a lot tomorrow.”

Mr. Stark huffed and shotgun what was left in his glass. “Fine. But I’m walking to my room by myself. I don’t need you.”

There was something about watching your hero drunkenly stumble in their own home saying ‘I don’t need you’ to the wrong person that can make anyone sad. But Peter followed him down the hall anyway and caught him when he began to list. It was comforting that Mr. Stark didn’t outright refuse the help, but he didn’t lean into Peter. 

“It’s okay to need people,” Peter said as he laid the man down to sleep on his side. Hypocrite.  

“Sure kid.”

Like last time, Peter threw a blanket over him, brought a garbage bin next to the bed, and rested a glass of water and Advil on the table. “Everything look good, Friday? And there is someone close by to help him if he needs it?”

“Yes Peter. You did a great job. I’ll watch over him,” Friday responded. Her voice was soft, but still had a noticeable robotic lit that Karen had been losing. “Happy is waiting for you at the bottom of the tower, Peter.”

“Thank you, Friday. I hope you have a nice night,” Peter said to the ceiling. “Good night, Mr. Stark.” Everyone should have someone to tell them good night. 

The fastest way down was to jump and him and Karen laughed the whole way. 

“You know kid, I don’t want this to be a regular thing,” Happy gruffly said.

Peter looked down at his hands. “It won’t.”

It was silent in the car as Happy drove him back home. The first time Happy drove him, Peter almost had a panic attack because they went in the direction of his foster father’s house. Happy was not happy--hahahaha--about the change in location and almost refused to let him out of the car when they arrived. But Peter was able to convince him that he just hung out at the burned-out house and he just stayed there because it was closer to school. 

It’s a good thing I won’t need to walk home from Richard’s, I’m getting hungry. As if to punctuate the thought, Peter’s stomach grumbled. Happy’s eyes met his own in the rear-view mirror for a second, but he didn’t comment. Good, he doesn’t care. No need for more interaction. 

“Peter, I would like to remind you that you still need to consume 2500 calories before you go to sleep to stay on track.” Karen’s voice boomed from the speakers of the car causing both Happy and Peter to jump.

Happy swerved and pulled the car over. “What the fuck! Who are you?” 

“My apologies for startling you Happy. I am Karen, Peter’s suit A.I. My primary objective is to ensure Peter’s health and well-being.”

“How the hell did you get in the car? I didn’t authorize that,” Happy questioned. His body was still tense, and he had a hand inside of his suit jacket. 

Most likely on a gun. 

“I can access anything Friday can as long as it has something to do with my objective and within the guidelines Tony programmed.”

“Alright,” Happy said, his tone laced with suspicion. 

“And as of right now, my objective is to make sure Peter feels no adverse effects due to malnutrition.”

Happy didn’t answer her, but the car made a wrong turn that led them to a McDonald’s drive thru. Peter swallowed. “I don’t have any money on me right now.”

“I know Tony and I joke about my salary sometimes, but I think I can afford to get you a Big Mac.” Happy muttered to himself about calories and after doing some math, he ordered Peter a Big Mac meal, two more Big Macs, and the two for one deal on apple pies. 

I shouldn’t have let him get me this. It’s not right he has to pay for me. I need to come up with a way to pay-

“Here you go, kid.” Happy threw him the bag.

A wave of grease, fat, and salt overwhelmed his senses that almost made his fangs flip down. Generally, Peter tried to limit his fast-food intake because while it satisfied his caloric needs, Karen always reminded him about other vitamins and nutrients. OMG it’s so good. I need this more often. 

For the next few minutes of the drive, Peter was sure he was making a bunch of gross food sounds, but he didn’t care.  

“Tony needs food in his penthouse, by the way,” Karen stated.

In the rear-view mirror, Peter could see Happy’s eyebrows raise. “Why would you care if Tony has food at his place?”

“My primary objective is Peter’s health and wellbeing,” Karen repeated, “and if he’s going to be at Tony’s then there must be enough food to sustain him.”

“Karen, you’re being rude,” Peter said.

“I’m not rude, I’m merely reminding someone of the proper etiquette for having guests. It would benefit Tony too. He’d have more to consume in his home than eggs, condiments, and copious amounts of liquor. Am I wrong?”

Happy sighed, “they’ll be food tomorrow, but the kid needs to get to the tower by himself and I’d like to have a good night sleep, got it?”

Peter nodded and Karen hummed through the speaker. He finished his meal and neatly put all his garbage in one bag as they pulled up to his house. He pulled on the handle, but the door didn’t open. “Um Happy, we-we’re at my um. Can I get out?”

“Kid, there’s someone on the porch. Do you know them?” Happy asked, his eyes trained on the house. 

It was mildly surprising that Happy could see the person. If Peter didn’t have night vision, there was no way he would have seen him. “No, he’s probably just a customer.” Peter pulled on the handle a few more times and looked around to find the locking mechanism. 

“Customer? You aren’t selling drugs or anything, right kid?”

“What? Um, no. The meth house is a few down. I just fix things for people. But not weapons. I don’t do weapons.” Either he couldn’t find the locking mechanism, or it can only be unlocked by the person in the front seat. Oh god, I’m trapped. I’m trapped in here. Can he get into the back seat from here? Peter plastered himself to the side of the door. 

“You sure that’s safe kid? I could drive you to your foster Dad’s house or do you want me to go up with you?”

Oh god. Oh god. Oh god. Oh god. 

“Kid?” Happy’s eyes finally left the porch and went back to looking at Peter.

He’s just concerned about you. Calm down, he’s never given you ‘the vibe’ and he’s not doing it now. “Oh, I’m um, fine. Yep. Fine.”

There was a click that signaled unlocking doors. “Alright, if you need help. You can call me.”

Huh. “Okay, thanks. And thank you for the food. I appreciate it.”

Happy was silent in his reply but nodded his head. Given the okay, Peter scrambled out of the war and walked to his front porch. The man was a customer who wanted his DVD player modified to be able to play Blue Ray discs. Easy enough. 

It wasn’t until they were both inside and Peter had been working on the DVD player for a few minutes that he heard Happy drive away. The man must have noticed too because that’s when the comments and questions came. The ‘that was a nice car, huh?’ and ‘out having fun tonight, kid?’ and ‘who’d you sign your life away to?’. Questions designed to seem casual but are looking for him to give long incriminating answers.

Unluckily for the man, Peter was a master of using few words. Everyone on the street knew he had a ‘relationship’ with SI, but he never goes into it when asked. Never give out any information. Nothing that can be used against you. 

The man gave him fifteen dollars and a bag of Hershey’s Kisses for his services and bid him a good morning as he left. Peter relocked the door and cleaned up his workspace as part of his nightly routine. Finally, he was able to check his webs and get ready to sleep. Ugh, I need to go back for my nutrition sacks. 

Now for a shower. 

A more accurate term would probably be ‘grooming’ but he’d had a problem with that word for forever. With no electricity in the house, the shower in the bathroom didn’t actually work but he had a little trick with his powers that helped him out. The tiny hairs that line his hand (setules) that allow him to climb walls can also be used to hold onto small drops of water.

So basically, his hands are a combo brush/loofah.  

It was nice he didn’t have to sink shower like other homeless people or use the school gym showers. He could just run his hands over his skin and hair with a little soap and be done with it. The best part was that he didn’t have to be naked. 

It was closing in on three in the morning by the time Peter was finished, which wasn’t too late, but today had been tiring. Just one more thing he had to do before he went to sleep.

Peter put his Spiderman mask back on. “Good night Karen.”

“Good night Peter. Have a nice sleep.”

With his eyes closed, Peter took the mask off his face and let it fall to the ground next to him, ready to grab in the morning. It was so quiet in the house, his spider senses were calm, and he was suspended in the air in his hammock.

He was alone and safe. 

Chapter Text

“Boss, it’s time to get up.”

The curtains in his room opened by themselves and let in a stream of afternoon light. Goddammit. Tony pushed himself up and gave himself a moment before moving any further. Not going to throw up this morning. Already a good sign. As he rose out of bed to start his day, his eyes glanced to the holographic clock on his bedside table. “Friday my dear, why the fuck am I up at this hour?”

“You have an appointment to keep with Mr. Parker today. You should be up early to get ready.”

“I have to be up at noon to do it? The hell do I need to get ready for anyway? I’m a genius, I can make shit up as I go.”

“You need to put away the food that was delivered and I suggest you have a plan for suit upgrades.”

“Someone delivered food? Am I out of eggs?”

“Karen requested you have food in the apartment for Peter.”

“Of course she did.” I’m going to have two A.Is bossing me around if I’m not careful. “What time is the kid supposed to be here?”

“Two o’clock.”

Ugh. “Fine. I’m getting up.”

“And you can’t have any alcohol until after he leaves if you want to work on the suit,” Friday added.

Fuck. I’ve been up for five minutes and today already sucks ass. It was a slog to get through the first part of the day, but eventually with the power of coffee (hold the Irish) and Tylenol (that was conveniently on the nightstand), things got marginally better. 

Whoever went shopping really went all out. It looked as though there was everything in his kitchen. “Kid has probably never even seen a jackfruit before,” Tony muttered as he poked the cat sized fruit. 

Friday was right, as usual, after Tony put away all the food, he was able to draft some plans for the Spiderman suit and tinker with a couple of other ideas. He even had time to ask if Pepper or Rhodey had called.

They didn’t. 

At least it didn’t take too much time out of the day. It caused his hands itch and he looked over to the liquor cabinet. I could probably have one drink before the kid gets here.

“Spiderman is climbing up the tower,” Friday informed. 

It would take another few minutes for Spiderman to climb up here, and to distract him, Friday pulled up a photo from Twitter last night of Spiderman returning a dog to its family. Cute. I wonder if I’ll hear about it in the kid’s report later.  

The kid looked a lot better than he did the last time Tony had seen him, but apparently drunk Tony also missed a lot of things. Like the high amount of self-stitching the suit, and thinking back, he didn’t ask the kid how he got a limp or look into anything relating to the alien weapon that shot him. Shit. 

“Hey there Underoos. You can change out of the suit in the bathroom and we can start the upgrades,” Tony said as the kid walked in. 

The kid nodded and walked down the hall.

“You should both eat before you start,” Karen said.

Tony looked up annoyed. “Are you going to take over for Friday whenever the kid shows up?”

“No,” Friday answered. “Karen does not manage any systems in the tower or have access to any Stark Industry files that do not pertain to Peter Parker.”

“I really need to change her protocols and privileges,” Tony muttered. A.Is are smart (especially ones he made) and Karen obviously really liked the kid, more than what he programmed. It’s not much of a jump in thought that Karen could access any file in SI as long as she justified it to be in the kid’s best interest. How did I not think this through? 

“I am just looking out for Peter, and he is more likely to eat if you are as well,” Karen mentioned gently. 

“Fine, fine. Do you have him on a meal plan we need to follow?” Tony said with an eyeroll. 

The A.I actually sounded happier at his question. “Not right now! But I have several drafts based on his metabolic needs and realistic food availability. You could look them over if you’d like.”

She must have this poor kid on a really tight leash. “No, I think you’re doing a fantastic job already.”

“Thank you. And before you two go into the lab I suggest something with carbohydrates, vegetables, and fruit.”

Well, I didn’t think I'd have to make an entire fucking meal for lunch today. The best the kid was going to get was two frozen pizzas and a pre-prepared salad that was in the fridge. Maybe the jackfruit. Hopefully this appeases her majesty the artificial spider mom. Karen didn’t make any comments on the food, so Tony assumed he was in the clear.

About halfway through the pizza’s bake time the kid still wasn’t back. “Did the kid decide to leave or something?”

“Peter has not left the bathroom,” Friday answered.

“He just needs a few minutes to collect himself,” Karen informed. 

Tony poked the crust of the pizza with a fork. “For what? Even after all this time, he’s still nervous to speak to me? Wow, didn’t think I was still that big of a deal.” 

“You’re not,” Karen cheerfully informed him.

Ouch.

“He just needs a moment to get adjusted to being here without his suit,” she went on.

“Adjust? Like acclimate? Is it too hot in here for him or something?” I guess I could turn down the heat if it makes the kid that uncomfortable. It’s probably better anyway to not keep his apartment at 85 degrees, and it would certainly save a lot on his energy bill. But then there was the thought of being cold and that reminded him of Siberia. Of laying on the cold ground bleeding while his artificial heart was malfunctioning. Laying there bleeding because of someone who was a hero, his friend, may as well have been family. Especially from the way Howard talked about him. 

Maybe I should turn it up a few more degrees. 

Luckily, the kid decided to round the corner and finally make his appearance. It had been months since Tony had seen the kid outside the suit, and he looked about the same. Not that he looked good then either. No wonder Karen wants me to shove food down his throat. Damn the kid still needs a haircut. "Not sleeping much, kid?" 

The kid shook his head and kept his eyes down. "Drink?"

"Sure kid, I got anything you want."

He looked up at Tony with confusion and a tilted head. 

What the hell does that mean? Tony went to open the fridge to show the kid what he had, and that's when he noticed the empty glass in his hand. Oh. When did this happen?  He coughed and put the glass back in his liquor cabinet. "So, your lovely A.I insists on eating before we start but the pizza will still be a few minutes. You good with that?"

A nod. 

"Excellent. While we wait, I can start going over the suit plans."

One thing that Tony forgot about the kid was that he was smart. Smarter than most people he interacted with, and it was nice to have someone that could keep up. He was in the middle of explaining potential space radiation effects on mutants--just a small side tangent--when Peter pulled at his sleeve and pointed at the oven.

Shit. “Shit!”

Well, the pizzas came out a little burnt, but the kid didn’t seem to mind, he ate 13 slices and most of the salad. They finished eating at around the same time--kid puts away a ton of food--and they quickly did the dishes with the kid washing and Tony drying and talking the whole time.

It feels good just to talk. “Alright kid, what are your thoughts on the suit upgrades?”

“They’re good,” the kid said. He poked at the jackfruit Karen insisted he should eat. Eventually, the kid was able to get a grip and with his super strength ripped the damn thing open. It was gone in ten minutes, outer rind included. 

“Really?” Tony asked with raised brows, “no comments? At all?”

“Maybe a couple things…” Peter mumbled. 

There it is. He still couldn’t look Tony in the eyes, but it was slightly better than one-word answers with no personality behind them. Progress.

It had been about five days since he’d been in his lab and even more time since he’d been in there in a good frame of mind. It was standard practice to keep a lab at room temperature in case any chemistry needed to be done, which meant it was about ten degrees colder than the penthouse. Usually being barely sober or being in the middle of panic induced work meant that he didn’t feel the change, but this time he did. 

It’s cool. No, it’s cold. Cold that could seep through a person’s body especially when they are laying on ice awaiting a painful death. Because no one is going to help you. There was an audible shiver next to him. “I agree kid, but we must soldier through the cold for science.” Like a winter soldier. Hahaha. Fuck me. 

As with (apparently) anything to do with Peter Parker, the first bit of time when they were working together was an awkward mess. The kid dropped about ten different glass instruments and apologized profusely after breaking each one. He was also a stuttering mess on top of not being able to meet Tony in the eyes. 

Alright Stark, how can you work with this? What’s something we can talk about to get the kid to calm down?  “So kid, how’s it going with that little crush of yours on that girl in your nerd club?” 

The kid stiffened. “You know about Liz?”

“I do listen to your reports and sometimes you let some things slip when you’re talking in your reports. You should have Karen edit that stuff out, not that I don’t like listening…” Tony trailed off. Now the kid just looks nervous, embarrassed, and ready to ralf all over my work bench. Maybe girls wasn’t the best opener. “You okay there, kid?”

“I’m fine.”

Alright, here goes it. “Hello Fine, I’m Tony Stark.”

There was a moment of silence before the kid let out a sigh that was almost a laugh. “That was terrible,” Peter said quietly. There was a small smile on his face and his shoulders became relaxed. 

After that it became way easier to work with the kid. It almost felt like he was working with Bruce again and it was nice to have a partner who could keep up, but there was a slightly different feeling to it. I wouldn’t say coworker because I’m still teaching him things but he’s not quite an assistant. Too personable. 

Tony was caught up in his own thoughts that he almost missed the kid whispering, “this is so cool.”

“Yeah?” Tony said easily, “I’m sure you do some cool things in school too.”

Peter shrugged. “Sometimes. Made my first webs there.”

How’d he get away with that? “And what about in your little clubhouse workshop? Make anything cool in there lately?”

"Not like this," Peter said, gesturing to the suit. "I made a regular DVD player able to play Blue Ray discs yesterday and refurbished an IPhone 5." 

“Not bad kid, considering the resources you have I’d say that’s pretty cool.” 

"And you get to make millions and improve the lives of millions of people,” Peter said.

Tony snorted, “most of the time I make a bunch of prototypes, so the only thing I get is shit from Pepper for not doing more paperwork.”

This time when the kid huffed in amusement, it was a lot closer to a laugh. 

As it turned out, the upgrades and basic repairs to the Spiderman suit would need multiple lab sessions. Who’d a thought complicated multimillion dollar piece of hardware would need regular maintenance. “Sorry kid, but it looks like you’ll have to come in often to keep everything in tip top shape.”

“That’d be okay.”

Peter wore the suit when he jumped off the balcony and Tony finally got to leave the lab and grab a drink. 

“What are you doing back here so soon?” Tony asked the kid. He was sprawled out on the floor with the kid looking down at him. I liked it better when he was wearing the suit so I couldn’t see the disappointment. 

“Suit?”

“Sure, I could be in the lab right now.”

“No you cannot,” Friday said. “My protocol dictates-”

“Yeah, yeah,” Tony said as he sat up. “Sorry kid, but either you wait six hours, or you came here for nothing.”

Karen answered for him, “unfortunately Peter can’t stay for that long, but he’d love to stay for dinner.

“No, I couldn’t-” the kid stammered.

“Yes, you can. Right Tony?” Karen said. 

“Mi casa es su casa, eat whatever you want.” Tony staggered back onto his couch and sprawled out. There were soft footsteps that stopped in front of him. “What?”

The kid hunched into himself further. “Not eating?”

The ‘no’ was on his lips, but Friday beat him to it. “You should, boss. You need to eat today.”

Now, he could say no, but then Friday would be on his ass for hours after the kid leaves until he did. And it was likely that Karen would chew into him because the kid would leave instead of eating like he’s done before. Ugh. If it gets them to leave me alone. “Fine. Friday, order from that 24-hour Thai restaurant and have someone send it up in the elevator. Order my usual and whatever the kid wants times ten,” Tony said. 

“A home cooked meal would be better, Tony. Peter has reached his weekly allotted amount of fast food already,” Karen said. 

Tony squinted and looked at his watch. “Yeah, Karen, I’d love that but it’s past midnight and I don’t cook anyway. I think the kid’s super metabolism will take care of one extra high calorie, salt, greasy meal. Right kid?” 

No answer.

“Kid?” 

Peter’s chest was rising and falling noticeably, and his eyes were wet. “Please Karen…” He sounded small and sad.

“Of course,” Karen said gently. “The order has been placed and will be here within a half an hour.”

The kid can get her to change her mind, not just the other way around. The food was good, though any food is good after not eating for so long. Every time Tony would put down his chopsticks with the intent of being done, the kid would stop eating even if he was mid bite. It forced him to eat slowly, so the kid would eat all the food. 

Afterwards, Tony called Happy so he could drive the kid home, despite the protest that he could swing home. Besides it was three against one once the A.I’s had a say, so it’s not like the kid had a choice. 

It’s not like him and the kid talked about it or anything or set up a regular schedule, it just seemed to happen the kid stopped by the tower on Wednesdays and Saturdays. Not to say Peter didn’t sometimes show up on other days, but those are the ones where Tony held off on drinking so they could go to the lab. 

Most of the time.

Sometimes the kid comes over and eats a good portion of his food and watch him for a bit before leaving. A little weird, but Tony did a lot weirder things in his youth. At least the kid isn’t trying a hundred different drugs in hopes of getting my attention. But over the weeks, Tony realized the kid was just...weird in general. Today the kid was fidgeting. 

A lot.

“You okay over there kid? Your super spider future vision isn’t going off is it? Do I need to get out my suit?” Tony said, half-jokingly. 

“It’s called spider sense,” Peter mumbled. “I’m fine.”

“You’re obviously not fine.” 

“Stupid.”

“If it’s bothering you this much, it isn’t stupid.”

“I’ve been on the floor for a long time.” Peter continued to shake as if he just uttered a life altering secret that would change the way Tony looked at him.

“...so have I?” 

Peter eyes darted to the walls, the counter, and the ceiling. 

“Listen kid, I don’t care where you go in the penthouse except for the liquor cabinet and the lab without permission. Other than that, do whatever makes you feel comfortable,” Tony said. 

“Really?”

“Sure kid, just do me a favor and take off your shoes. Try not to leave any marks.” It was incredible to see the kid climb walls. With Peter at the penthouse in casual clothes it's a constant reminder that the powers don’t come from the suit Tony provided, but from the kid himself. 

Every time Peter came over after that, he would climb onto the walls and ceiling before they ate. Not long after that came the spider sting and realization that Tony had to be more careful about how he phrased things because the kid looked like he was about to have a panic attack on the ceiling. 

“Kid! Peter! You need to tell me what’s wrong.” Oh god what do I do? How am I supposed to help him if I can’t reach him? How the fuck would I even get him down from there?

“Sorry, I’m so sorry,” Peter answered. His face was red, and he scrambled to a corner.

Tony decided not to move closer. “Sorry for what?” he simply asked. While Peter was further away now, he was careful not to raise his voice. The kid was enhanced, it was likely he could hear Tony at any volume. 

Peter just scrunched in on himself and kept muttering that he was sorry. 

Alright Stark, you’re a genius. Figure it out. There was nothing he could think of that could have made the kid upset. “Did you get injured and not tell me? Was your secret identity revealed? Did you go into the liquor cabinet? Did you interact with anyone in Shield?” Tony asked in rapid fire. 

The kid didn’t react to any of his questions.

At least it was none of that shit. Then Tony spotted something on the floor: a tiny, chipped part of his ceiling paint that had a clear string attached to it. “Is this what you’re so worked up about?” 

A whimper in the corner.

“You know I don’t really care if you take off some ceiling paint, right?” 

“No marks.” 

What? Oh right, the conversation about him being on the ceiling. “I meant that I didn’t want shoe or footprints on my walls and ceiling making it dirty.”

Peter finally uncurled himself. “Webs are okay?”

“If it makes you feel better, you can put up as many webs as you want on the ceiling.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, just keep them clean and looking nice. Don’t want a bunch of flies rotting up there, right?” Tony meant it as a joke, but within a couple more visits most of his ceiling, and part of his walls were covered with silk. It seemed like the kid took his joke to heart because the webs were kept pristine and meticulously orderly. Kind of like ceiling art. Sure, most of the time Tony was drunk or hungover on the floor looking up to a spinning world, but it still looked pretty. 

It was weird to think that Tony was starting to get used to Peter’s presence. For whatever reason, the kid decided to bump up his scheduled visits to three days a week, adding on Sunday. Peter would come by when he was sleeping too, which made him feel uneasy at first, but Friday informed him that the kid would just check his webs and leave, only sometimes grab a small snack. 

“Hey kid,” Tony greeted and looked up. Nowadays the kid would enter through the balcony, attach himself to the wall, and crawl through the mass of webs to meet Tony in the kitchen. It seems like a lot more work than walking over, but I guess I’m not a literal spiderman am I? 

From the nest of webbing came a string that stuck to a jackfruit, which had become a staple in the penthouse. It was slowly hoisted up to the ceiling where it disappeared. There was the sound of fruit being ripped open and a small hello. Tony could see Peter’s dark shadow contrasted by the white webbing, but not much else. 

“Come on down kid, you still need…”

“Two thousand,” Karen supplied.

“Two thousand calories and we need to figure out how to make a more efficient photovoltaic cell.” They still fix the Iron Man and Spiderman suits, but it’s just basic maintenance. During school days they work on Peter’s projects that consist of medical advancements and on the weekends, they worked on new green energy technology. It kept them both happy and interested in their projects. 

Peter descended upside down from the ceiling on a piece of silk. 

They ate a family size meal of chicken tenders, mozzarella sticks, and potato skins at the kitchen island. “You know kid, I thought you said your webs only lasted two hours before dissolving.” The webs started to creep down even more and onto some of his hanging light fixtures.

The kid froze as he shoved food into his mouth.

“Not that I think there is anything wrong with them, I’d just like to know why.”

“These ones are more permanent webs that are mixed with my biological ones. The ones I use on patrol dissolve in two hours, so the police don’t need the spray. I can get rid of them if they bother you,” Peter said. 

Another great new development was the kid could sometimes speak to Tony in multiple sentences and keep eye contact for most of a conversation. He makes biological webs too? When he gets more comfortable around me, I’ll have to ask about a thousand questions on that.  “Nah kid, I was just wondering. And I like the snowflakes, very festive.” 

“Thank you,” Peter said with a smile. 

“Ah shit,” Tony muttered. He spilled some of his water on the counter. It’s not that it was a big deal or anything, but now he had to get up to grab a paper towel or something and his back didn’t want to cooperate today. 

“I got it Mr. Stark.” Peter swiped his hand over the counter. 

Tony was going to comment that the kid should call him Tony and not Mr. Stark but stopped when he saw the water disappear. He looked between Peter and his glass. I don’t think I put any liquor in this. “How the fuck did you do that?”

After that there was an explanation on how Peter developed setules after becoming a mutant and that’s how he was able to climb walls. Then he demonstrated picking up more water, showing Tony the thin layer that was stuck to his hand, and then let it run off back to the counter. 

When the explanation ended Peter shifted in his seat, obviously nervous. 

“That’s pretty cool, kid.” 

Peter perked up after the affirmation. Cautiously, the kid reached over to him and lightly stroked the top of Tony’s hand and it was smooth, but when he performed the action again there was a rough feeling, like sandpaper. Then Peter placed his hand on top of his and pulled gently, moving Tony’s up slightly. They were stuck together.  

“Feels exactly like when a bug walks on you. Sticky but not,” Tony commented. 

“Yep.” Peter retracted his setules to let go and they went back to lunch. 

The atmosphere around them was calm and Tony found himself relaxed. He watched the kid wipe marinara sauce off his face with a napkin and then take some of the water that was still on the counter to clean the spot further with his hands. When the kid was just sitting at the counter it was so easy to forget that he was a mutate because he could blend in so well. Nothing outwardly made anyone think he was anything other than human, even Steve Rodgers had a hard time pulling that off with his bulky upper body and unnatural good looks. 

I wonder how many other people are enhanced that we don’t know about. I’m sure Wanda looked normal to everyone around her too. The worry went out of his mind when Peter looked up to him and started explaining his new idea for spider silk clothing. Makes sense, I don’t think I’ve seen a single article of clothing the kid owns that he hasn’t stitched up. 

Tony was going to comment, but Peter looked so happy that he let the kid ramble on uninterrupted. 

The kid finally left for the day. It’s not like Tony didn’t enjoy his time with Peter, but after a full twelve hours of being with the kid and only having a beer during dinner, he was itching for more. And seeing as the kid already spent so much time with him today, he was surprised when Friday announced that Happy was coming up to see him. 

“Hey Happy, want a drink? Tony asked as he held up his rum and coke. 

“Still have to drive home Tony,” Happy said gruffly. He eyed the web filled ceiling but didn’t comment. 

“You could stay over; I got the room.”

“No, I need to be up early tomorrow.”

“That sucks,” Tony said while pouring a Veramonte. 

“Well, organizing a major operation to move all the Avengers equipment upstate takes a lot of time and energy and your kid isn’t helping.”

Tony pulled out a bottle of water from the fridge and handed it to his friend. “Is that what this visit is about? You know, if you wanted the kid to help you, all you have to do is ask him,” he joked.

“Tony, I’m serious.”

“Look, I know this is cutting into your personal time, and I am sorry about that. But I don’t ask you to drive him home because I want to fuck with you.” I do it because he shouldn’t be swinging around so late at night when he’s already so tired. Tony sighed, “I’ll give you bonus pay and back pay for it if you want, but you’re going to have to deal with this for a while.”

“I’ll accept the pay raise, but I’m also here because I’m worried about the kid.”

“What? Why?”

“Have you looked at him? He looks like he sleeps as much as I do, he’s always on the edge of a panic attack, and every time I’m with him, Karen is always going on about how he isn’t eating enough.” 

Sounds like a small version of me. “She talks to you about that too?” 

“Not the point. He’s literally stitching and gluing his clothes together. I almost wish he kept coming down to me in his suit. And these things don’t even touch the fact that I drop him off at this abandoned house every time I drive him home. Did you know that’s where he lives?” Happy went on. 

“I’ve been to his foster father’s house before, that other house is just his little workspace. Think of it as his lab.”

“I asked Karen how often he’s at his foster father’s house and she replied with ‘as often as he needs to be’ that can’t be good. 

“I didn’t like my own biological father at that age, and the kid goes through a lot of parental figures. You can’t blame him if he doesn’t want to get attached.”  

“I still don’t like this situation.”

“What do you want me to do about it? Call CPS? Call Shield so they can take him? Because you know what will happen if anyone else finds out he’s enhanced.”

“You’re the one who said that you have plenty of room here.”

“The kid just started looking me in the eyes, there is no way he’s going to trust me enough to stay here.”

Happy ran his hand through his hair and took a deep breath. “You know this is strange and I think we should look into it.”

“You said it yourself, you have a lot of things going on right now. The kid’s allowed to have his own stuff going on. He seems like he’s doing fine, and I trust him that he’s not doing anything illegal.”

Happy looked skeptical but nodded. “If you’re sure.”

“When am I not?” Tony said with a smirk.

He wasn’t. 

“Alright.” Happy took another look around the penthouse and then looked Tony up and down. “I’ll keep you in touch with the move. Just Tony...take care of yourself.”

“Will do.”

Tony waved Happy goodbye and was alone again in his penthouse. Alone until the kid comes to see him again on Wednesday. I wonder who the kid sees between now and then. I wonder if one of them is his foster father. 

Richard Dickenson was not a man Tony Stark thought of often. In fact, the only time he thought of the man was when he first scouted Peter out to be part of his team for ‘Civil War’. 

There was a new ‘hero’ on the scene in New York, specifically, Queens. It was mostly blurry pictures and videos so grainy it made him want to find these people and give them a better cellphone, but it was proof. Social media posts on some kid calling himself Spiderman and doing wonderful little tasks like giving directions, helping old ladies cross the street, carrying heavy objects for people. 

Oh, and catching cars. 

The kid could perform some amazing feats of strength that could probably rival Rodger’s and possibly the Hulk’s. It’s too bad we don’t have time for testing. 

“Friday, what can you get me on the Spiderling here?”

It took some time, and Tony found some other minor league vigilantes to put in a backup pile just in case like Jessica Jones and Daredevil but the other major benefit to choosing Spiderman is that he’s young. Probably young adult, college age judging by the voice. It’d be a lot easier to get someone like that to come with him on short notice than someone who is older and has questions, a job, and potentially an agenda of their own. 

“From multiple devices and cameras, I have identified the identity of Spiderman as Peter B. Parker from Queens. Age 14, currently living with his foster father Richard Dickenson after the recent deaths of his aunt and uncle, Maybelle and Benjamin Parker, respectively.” 

Who were the sick bastards to name their kid Dick Dickenson? And fourteen and recently orphaned, goddamn it. “Background check clean? Nothing I need to worry about?”

“Nothing that requires your immediate attention.”

Fourteen is a little young to get mixed up in this shit. Tony looked over to his pile of other options. None of them are as good, especially with the amount of time I have left. “Can you get me an address so I can talk to him and his foster father?”

“Of course, Boss.” 

It was a good thing that Tony already started making Spiderman’s new suit before this shit went down. He arrived at Dick’s house with a suitcase in hand filled with paperwork and the new Spiderman suit within the week. He had to add a thousand new options to baby proof the damn thing, so the kid won’t kill himself in it, but he was rather confident he thought of everything. 

Richard was...nice enough, but he said the kid--Peter, his name is Peter, I need to remember--wasn’t home right now and wouldn’t be home for a while. The man was obviously flustered from Tony standing at his doorstep—the bastard didn’t even let him inside--and tried to end the conversation as fast as possible. Dick said he’d inform Peter that Tony Stark was looking for him but didn’t know how long that could take. 

Why doesn’t this guy know where his ONE child is? I don’t have time for this. “Find me wherever the kid is,” Tony told Friday in the car.

That was how Tony Stark found himself in front of a condemned house in one of the shittyest parts of Queens. I might not need to worry about a potential fight between me and Rodgers if I get jumped and killed in this hell hole first. 

Tony knocked and heard several locks click before the door opened slightly. A child looked up to him with wide eyes and a pale face. “Hello Peter Parker,” Tony led with. “I have some things I want to talk to you about.”

The kid swallowed and let him inside the house. 

Peter Parker looked worse than what the CPS photo on his file showed. The kid was already small, at only five foot five, but the way he carried himself made him smaller. Overall, he appeared worn out, tired, and scrawny. Good god, the kid needs a haircut. His hands, arms, and face had grease and machine lube on them that also stained his well-used clothes. 

With how twitchy and afraid he is, you’d never guess this kid was Spiderman. 

The air inside was sticky and stale mostly consisting of mildew and machine parts. It was obvious as to why, the house looked like it had been abandoned for some time and there was multiple fold out tables covered in broken machinery parts. The kid gestured for him to sit on an ugly stained couch to which Tony raised his eyebrow at but complied. I’ve sat in worse places, especially in college. 

Meanwhile, the kid took a seat a couple feet away behind one of the tables, folded his hands on the desk, and didn’t meet his eyes. 

“Nice place here kid, tell me, is being here an act of teenage rebellion? Because I was just at your foster father’s house,” Tony started.

The kid--Peter, his name is Peter--tensed further bringing his hands closer to himself and shrinking in his chair. 

“He didn’t know where you were, and I had to find you myself. Not that hard, I’m Tony Stark after all. Wasn’t hard to find out you were Spider Boy either.”

Peter’s eyes shot up. “You have the wrong person.”

“Do I? I have all the proof I need including camera data, social media accounts, YouTube videos.” Tony got up and placed a holographic tablet in front of Peter. “You’re in a lot more places than you think. Even just regular Peter Parker doing his repairs has some media attention. Not much, but you’re there.”

Tony leaned in to point out some of the evidence like his height and voice and the kid’s breathing became audible. Is he really that scared of meeting Iron Man? He backed off to take a closer look at the building and went to step into the kitchen.

TWIP. Something attached to his back that stopped him from moving forward. He turned to the kid who had a little gadget on his wrist where the string came from. “Don’t want me snooping?” Tony half joked.

“Not safe,” the kid answered. 

To test this, Tony put one foot on a floorboard and heard it creek under his weight. A little more pressure and the board would give away. He took a step back and tugged on the string attached to him. “You know, I analyzed this stuff in my lab, the tensile strength is off the charts. Who manufactured it?”

“I do.”

“Neat kid, you’ll have to show me how it works sometime. Now get it off me."

The kid scrambled and pulled a little spray bottle from somewhere. Tony watched the webbing dissolve and the kid tentatively brush the residue from his back. He skittered back to the desk. 

"You know I almost thought these came out of you. That’d be-”

“What do you want?” Peter interrupted. 

Tony raised his eyebrows. Interesting. Kid’s getting defensive. “Don’t interrupt me. I want to know why you do this.”

The kid was visibly surprised by Tony’s request and then looked into his eyes with sadness. “When you can do the things that I can, but you don’t and then the bad things happen.” He took a breath. “They happen because of you.”  

That was a much better answer than I expected. “Alright, I get it. Helping out people and looking out for the little guy, huh?”

A nod. Peter’s eyes went back to his folded hands. 

“What kind of equipment are you working with?”

“I’ll be. I’ll be right back.” When the kid got to the kitchen he stuck to the walls and scurried out of sight. When he came back, he was on the ceiling and dropped the Spiderman ‘suit’ in Tony’s lap before carefully lowering himself to the floor, making almost no sound. 

“Wow, I guess you don’t stick with adhesive gloves or anything.” The costume was just a red and blue sweatshirt and pants stitched together with a combination of thread and webbing with blacked out goggles glued to the eye parts. “Jeez kid, can you even see out of these?”

“They help me focus. When what happened, happened. I-it’s like my senses went crazy. Dialed to eleven. Too much input.” The longer he spoke the quieter his voice became. 

Kid’s a nervous wreck of a person, but he’s a good person. “No one knows about this. Friends? Foster father?”

“No. No one.”

Tony threw the homemade suit over the arm of the couch. “You’re in dire need of an upgrade, and I have one for you. By the way, you got a passport? Ever been to Germany?”

“What?” Spiderling said quickly. “No, I’ve never. I don’t even have a driver’s license.”

“No problem, I can still get you a passport. You’ll love it there.”

“I can’t go to Germany!” The kid shouted hoarsely. 

“Why not?”

“I have homework!”

Almost forgot he was a kid for a moment. Tony rolled his eyes, “I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that.”

“I’m serious. I have this place to look after and I can’t miss anymore school this year!” Steadily the kid was getting more panicked. 

“Think of it as you’re getting out on work study. I’ll get you excused from school and any other thing you're worried about taken care of.”

In a slightly bitter voice Spiderling said, “I don’t have a choice.”

“Sure you do, but come on, new suit and playing in the big leagues for the day.” Tony placed the briefcase on the kid’s workbench. “Someone will be here next week to pick you up. You’ll be ready?”

Peter nodded, staring at the case. 

“Good, see you then, Spiderling,” Tony said as he exited the house. 

“Spiderman!” 

 Kinda fun messing with the kid. The car sped away and Tony felt a little better about his upcoming meeting with the other members of his team. I'm glad I'll probably never have to come back here again. 

It took a couple of days, but Tony caught up with all the kid’s audio reports. Whenever something he labeled ‘concerning’ came up, he made Friday take a note so he could pull up the visuals later. 

Tony noticed a pattern where Peter would access the suit for less than a minute, even if he didn’t go out as Spiderman that day. Something moved in his chest--and it wasn’t shrapnel-- when he saw it was Peter putting on the suit just to tell Karen goodnight. He did it every night and he was always in the burned house, not the foster father’s home.

It was probably fine. Maybe the kid went to his club house before going home and that’s when he said goodnight to Karen. Plus, Peter is in to good shape to be living on his own. He’s always clean and looked to be an okay weight, if a bit thin. Besides, it’s getting too cold to stay in a place like that all the time. He’d probably freeze.

“Friday, can you contact Karen-”

“Hello Tony,” Karen said. “What can I do for you?”

Does she listen in every time Peter is mentioned? I’ll have to look into that later. “Can you just...I don’t know. Keep a closer eye on the kid?”

“There's not much more I can do. I can only watch him while he contacts me in the suit." She sounded sad and a tad frustrated.  

"You're not on his cellphone?"

"I'm not compatible with his current phone."

"Do you want to be?"

"I do," Karen started, "but he may think it’s an invasion of privacy. And I hate to admit it, but he needs more than me."

"You're doing a great job." I'm not sure I like where this is going. 

"I am," Karen agreed. "But he's still developing, and he needs someone there for him to give him stability. A physical presence and not just a voice to talk to. I think you do too." 

It was quite in the penthouse, but Tony could still hear his heavy breathing and the hum in his chest. "I think I need a drink." 

"Think about it," Karen gently said. "I'll send you some reading materials to help you." 

"Sure." He reached into his liquor cabinet. At least the kid’s not here to look at me with disappointment.  

The next afternoon when he woke up--fuck the sun--Tony had about a hundred new emails from Karen containing all kinds of things like blogs and articles on parenting advice, self-help, how to beat alcoholism, and even some Zoology books on various spiders. Fucking hell. The A.I even went so far as to put a bunch of those books into his cart on Amazon. 

“Friday, delete everything that is in my cart.”

“You promised Karen last night that you’d read anything she gave you.”

“No, I didn’t. I just said that she could send me that stuff, not that I’d read it.”

“Later that night you did.” Then Friday played back audio of him promising to ‘read all the shit she could find on raising a spider child and making sure you don’t fuck it up’. 

“Drunk promises don’t count.” Obviously not. You’re not in your right mind when you’re drunk, and you have no intent on following through with anything that you say. If Pepper says that, it must be true. 

“You’re out of Spiderman audio to listen to. What would you like to do otherwise? I have some business emails from Ms. Po-”

“Wow, look at this article ‘Ten Ways to Help Your Anxious Teen’. How interesting. Didn’t know the kid had anxiety, but it makes sense. Better know how to deal with it. Might as well get all those books too. If Pepper asks, I’m occupied.” 

Not that she’ll ask anyway. 

“Very well, Boss.”

Good job Stark, you gave yourself work by trying to avoid work. And Karen was still sending him more things to read to the point where he told her to put the information in order of relevance to helping Peter. At least it’s for a good cause.

He was so busy throughout the day; he could almost forget he was alone. 

Chapter Text

Peter wasn’t quite sure who he liked better: drunk Mr. Stark or sober Mr. Stark. It’s not like they were two different people, it’s just that they made him feel safe for different reasons. But they also made him anxious. 

Because for the first time in a long time, someone was paying attention.

Peter didn’t know what Mr. Stark would do if he knew the full extent of his situation. Would he force Peter into a new foster home? Take away his suit? Do nothing? Judging by his mentor’s own situation, the answer was probably the last one, but Peter couldn’t risk it being the first two. Sure, things could get better and he would be placed in a nice family, but he could be placed somewhere worse. As if the Parker luck would allow anything good to happen. Better the devil you know.   

Drunk Mr. Stark was very expressive and easy to read. They didn’t spend time in the lab together because Friday won’t let Mr. Stark work in the lab if he is drunk and Karen won’t let Peter in there by himself. So, three days a week Peter stopped by and Mr. Stark was usually sober.

Mr. Stark was drunk today. 

I was really looking forward to this. At least I can still eat. "Do you want me to heat up anything for you?" Peter asked. 

"No, but I'll boil us a pot of water." Mr. Stark opened a tall cabinet that was filled with several different types of pasta. "If we're doing this Peter, we're doing this right." 

I was going to heat up a few frozen meat pies, but I guess pasta works. "Just spaghetti?" 

"If we started this yesterday, we could have traditional Stark ravioli, but we have defrosted chopped meat, so we can do meatballs. And we can make the sauce." 

"Okay." Cooking was an interesting experience. With Aunt May, they usually put in the wrong measurements and burned whatever they managed to scrape together. With Uncle Ben, they usually made a TV dinner or something simple. I didn't even know Mr. Stark could cook. 

“First we need the ingredients. Passate l’aglio, ragazzo.”

“Cosa certa, vecchio uomo,” Peter responded easily. 

"You can speak Italian?" Mr. Stark asked. His eyes were lit with surprise and he had a peculiar smile on his face. 

"A little," Peter said. He ducked his head and continued rolling meatballs. "I was told my mom used to speak Italian to me when I was little and Aunt May taught me what she could." Most of what May taught me was curse words by accident though. The memory of May yelling over stubbing her toe or burning dinner again made his heart happy. 

"I'll teach you more if you want." 

"Sure. That’d be nice."  

Mr. Stark hummed, and they continued to make a hundred meatballs. "Alright Petey, set a timer for these and we can start the sauces."

Peter pulled out his phone and watched his mentor stiffen from the corner of his eye. 

“What the hell is that?!”

“My phone?” Peter shrank into himself a little bit. What could I have done to make him mad?

“It offends my eyes! What is that? An IPhone?! My own personal intern doesn’t have a Stark phone! You wound me!" 

"Um."

"This needs to be fixed." His mentor left the sauce he was making and disappeared down the hall. 

I hope the sauce doesn't boil over. 

Mr. Stark came back, only tripping once or twice, and slammed a box down on the counter. “I knew I had one around here somewhere.”

It was a Stark Phone 6 mini. “I can’t accept this,” Peter protested.

“Sure you can,” Mr. Stark said as he went back to making sauce. “Better than that old thing.”

“I like my phone, I made it myself.”

“Yeah, I guessed as much. You can think of it as a company phone that you can use for personal stuff if you want.”

Peter turned it on and saw that the face recognition was already set. “Whose was this before?”

“It was supposed to be Pepper’s when it first came out, but she didn’t like the small screen. We can work on the settings and stuff. If you still want your homebrew feel to it, we can update everything to the current model too.”

The current model of Stark Phone was the 8, so it wasn’t that out of date. Especially compared to my old one. “I thought Stark Phones were so well made that you couldn’t hack into it to change facial recognition without the previous owner’s permission.”

“Yeah, not a normal person. But you’re with me Pete, you know the saying, right?”  

“Yep. Tony Stark, genius, billionaire, functioning alcoholic, playboy, philanthropist,” Peter joked. Both him and Mr. Stark froze. Oh no, you ruined it! We were having such a nice time. “I’m-I’m sorry Mr. Stark, that was really rude of me. I didn’t mean to-”

“Can’t help the facts, kid,” Mr. Stark said. His eyes went back to the sauce on the stove top. 

Now it’s going to be awkward. Peter’s breath picked up and he held onto the edge of the counter. You don’t say stuff like that! It’d be like if he made a joke about my living situation or something. What if he starts joking about that now? What if he doesn’t want to eat dinner with me? What if he doesn’t want me around anymore? 

“Kid, you listening?” Mr. Stark asked.

Fake it. “Yep.”

“Are you going to release my poor counter then?” Mr. Stark started, “I don’t really want to remodel so soon.”

Peter looked down and saw the granite countertop starting to crumble in his hold. He released the counter as if he were burned. “I’m so-so, so sorry. I don’t mean, I didn’t mean to.” YOU’RE MAKING IT WORSE. 

“You know I was joking about the remodel. I will need to update soon; it’s been a couple years. I think white veined quartz is in right now. Here’s a tip, kid, whenever you do a remodel always look over the plans because you may not always want what’s trendy. Barn doors in a person’s house? Absolutely not. I mean, have you seen the tracks above the doorway? Ruins the wall,” Mr. Stark rambled. 

He continued his tirade on current and past remodeling trends while Peter’s heart went back to normal. His mentor was really getting into it, sometimes waving the sauce stirring spoon in the air and making splatters all over the place. It made him focus on that instead of his thoughts. Maybe we’re both human disasters.  

“-don’t get me started on the color GREEN for cabinets. Sorry about that Pete, Pepper and I used to watch all those shows together to get inspiration, but I think she just liked to make fun of design choices.” He looked off wistfully to the flat screen at the other side of the apartment.  “Sorry that your mentor turned out to be lame.”  

Not often Mr. Stark brings up Ms. Potts. DON’T MAKE IT WORSE.  “It’s not lame. Aunt May and I used to watch those shows too. It’s fun to see the inside of people's houses and buildings in different places. I got the idea for my web patterns from those shows.”

Mr. Stark looked up to the ceiling. “I never thought such good things would come from HGTV.”

And like that, things were back to normal. Back to them idly talking about tech and new projects with ease. Peter fiddled with his new phone as Mr. Stark watched over the food. 

“You know kid, if you ever don’t want to swing back or have Happy drive you home, you could always stay the night. I don’t mind, I have the room,” Mr. Stark brought up casually. 

Wow. That’d work out so well, especially on the weekends, even if I might lose some business. The feeling of dread and worry curled in his stomach. The ones he usually got when Ned asked him to stay over. No no no no nononono. “Thanks Mr. Stark,” Peter said, swallowing, “I’ll think about it.”  

It was a nice filling meal overall. The meatballs were delicious and the multiple sauces they made it so the taste of pasta didn’t get old. Afterwards, they fixed the Stark Phone by making Peter the owner, adding Ms. Pott’s number— “for emergencies, kid. She knows how to fix everything.”, --getting rid of a bunch of business contacts, and adding Karen. 

Even if they didn’t do lab work today, it was still a great day.  

Sober Mr. Stark was a lot more reserved in his emotions. And less spacy. When they were together it was a lot of fun because Mr. Stark would explain all kinds of science and technology things to him and they could stay in the lab for hours. It felt...different being around him. Most of the adults Peter knew don’t understand the things he makes or reads, but Mr. Stark does. 

“See here Peter.” Mr. Stark pointed to a piece of machinery. "This is going to be our next project. The next thing Stark Industries will take, improve, and make profitable." 

It looked sort of like a large vertical barbell that had a bright yellow piece on the top portion and a fan that attached to...somewhere. "What is it?" 

"That Peter is how we are going to create tidal energy. Usually, energy obtained from water is from a river or a dam, but this new tech is designed to go in the ocean and use the natural rhythm of the tides to turn a turbine to make electricity. Think of it as a buoy with a battery."

“Okay, sounds good. What are we going to do?”

Mr. Stark clapped his hands together and then leaned over the table on the machine’s blueprints. “I’m not sure. But we’ll think of something. We always do.”

Being in the lab with Mr. Stark wasn’t just dumping wires and scrap metal on a table or poking around in the suits. Sometimes it involved the creation of something new, which took a lot of research. Most of the lab day was spent reading through peer reviewed scientific literature, prototype write ups, multiple blueprints, and taking apart the model that was in the lab.   

They went through hours of reading materials and still had many more to go, but Peter noticed his mentor’s hands had begun to tremble and he steadily increased the number of times he drank water. Looks like lab time is almost over. “I need to be home soon,” Peter said. He began to reorganize the materials and tools on the table. 

“That late already?” Mr. Stark frowned as he looked at his watch. “It’s only nine o’clock.” 

“School.”

“Right, you’re on that high school schedule. Sometimes I forget you’re not in college.”

“A few more years.” Peter hovered around his mentor ready to help him put the tide machine back together. 

“Only two, and you know if you wanted--can you hold the casing here--if you wanted you could probably go sooner. But I’m sure you still want to hang around with Ted.” 

“Ned. And yeah, I like being in high school.” And it’s free. And they give me a free meal everyday. 

Mr. Stark snorted. “You’re one of the nerdy kids that says that. Got any thoughts on what school you want to go to yet?”

Peter shrugged, “whatever gives me the largest scholarship. If I can’t afford it, I’ll go to Queensborough. No biggie.”

“I wouldn’t worry about it, I bet you could easily get into MIT.” The twitching of Mr. Stark’s hands turned into rhythmic tapping on the desk. He wasn’t staring out into space; he was actively thinking of something. 

This can’t be good. “I-um. How are we going to test out the prototype when it’s finished? Doesn’t it need water?” Good. Perfect. I’m so terrible. 

He stopped tapping. “Good point, Pete,” Mr. Stark praised. 

Peter’s heart skipped a beat. He almost sounds like Uncle Ben. “Yeah, yeah. So, um, what are we going to do?”

“If we were at the compound, we could modify the pool, but the best we have here is the jacuzzi.” Mr. Stark’s thinking face turned to one of mischief.

This can’t be good.

“Or I can order a small wave machine." 

"I'm sure the hot tube works fine." 

"Nope! This is going to be good. You ever been to a waterpark, kid? You can have your own little wave pool," Mr. Stark joked. 

"Nah, I don't know how to swim," Peter said back. 

"Why not? I'll have to bring you to a lake or the beach one day. It’s an essential skill."

"Maybe one day," Peter said with a smile. It's a nice thought. 

They spent some time looking at various wave machines and settled on a model that was three million dollars. Holy moly. Three million dollars. I'll never see that type of money. 

"Don't worry about the cost, kid. It's a business expense. Alright, what’s next? We were on a roll with the wind turbine last week, let's shoot for the pass line today."

He sounds so passionate. He's not even really fidgety anymore. "Sounds great Mr. Stark." 

They worked for hours. Any small change could cause a chain reaction that could result in grave catastrophe or a better working model that would be too expensive to integrate. A careful balance between cost, functionality, and efficiency needed to be always maintained. Each scenario needs to be tested and thought out in excruciating detail. 

It was hard work but being with Mr. Stark made it better. He was in his element, blasting music (not loud enough to harm Peter’s ears) and experiencing the joys of creation. Usually at this time I’m home alone in my hammock. It’s kinda nice to be with someone else. Even with the loud noises and bright lights, Peter could feel the cool of the lab getting to his body. He kept his limbs close to his core to preserve heat and his eyes began to feel droopy. I wonder why Karen hasn’t told me to go home yet. 

During his third coffee break, his mentor paused talking. “You sure you don’t need some wonder juice?”

Peter shook his head. He didn’t like coffee. He had to drink A LOT of it to have the same effect as a normal person and he didn’t care much for the taste. To add on to that, for some reason it made him spin really weird looking webs. 

“That’s alright, it’s probably getting close to your bedtime, spider baby,” Mr. Stark chuckled. He laughed further at Peter’s weak attempt at a glare, until he looked at his wristwatch. “Wow, I’m sorry Pete, I didn’t mean to keep you this long. It’s pretty late.”

“It’s fine, I had a good time.” Peter yawned and began to clean up the work area again. 

“Hey, I can do that, you need to get ready to leave. Unless you want to stay the night?” Mr. Stark asked tentatively. 

“I need to make it organized. And I can make it home, thank you for the invitation though,” Peter responded politely. He’s been asking that a lot more lately. 

“If you’re sure.”

And every time he sounds a little disappointed. Peter nodded.

“Alright. Friday, call Happy please,” Mr. Stark said before Peter could protest. “Do you want anything to eat before you leave? Or a coat or something? It’s getting cold outside.”

“I’m good.”

“Do you want me to call your school? I can probably get you an excused absence for tomorrow if you think you’re too tired for class.”

Peter’s cheeks flushed with color and his body heated. “I’ll be fine.” I can’t imagine THE Iron Man calling me out of school because I’m a little tired. Absolutely not.

Despite his protests, Peter went home wearing a new yellow jacket, a plastic bag full of snacks, and a loaded gift card to Starbucks. Peter apologized to Happy for making him drive him home at such a late (or early) hour, as he does each time. The older man just waved his hand and told him that he was usually up at this hour anyway.    

He had to drink a lot of coffee to get through school the next day. 

It didn’t matter if Mr. Stark was drunk or sober, he always fed Peter. Whether it was a lab day or not, he would always leave feeling full. It was so much better than subsisting. Karen had been saying for months that his weight was fluctuating, but overall decreasing since she’d known him. Now that he was visiting the tower it was still decreasing, but it was leaning more towards stable. 

“I had someone send up the largest turkey they could find. And then two more. Along with some other stuff.”

There was so much food. More than any family member ever provided. Almost a hundred pounds of turkey, a ham, corn, mashed potatoes, stuffing. “Is anyone else coming over? I can leave before they get here.”

“Don’t worry about it. Rhodey said he couldn’t make it and was staying with mama Rhodes. So eat up kid."

It smelled heavenly to the point that his fangs flipped down as he looked at the first perfectly golden turkey. "Sssssorry," Peter said with a lisp. He quickly composed himself and made his fangs fit back in his mouth. It feels rude.

Mr. Stark's eyebrows were raised. "It's fine Petey, nothing to be ashamed of. Do whatever makes you feel comfortable." 

He glanced at the turkey and then back at his mentor. 

"Go for it, kid." 

It was the last bit of encouragement he needed before pouncing and plunging his fangs into the meat. It feels so gooooood. With the rats he couldn't fully put his fangs in their bodies and leave them in for long, but the turkey was already dead, so it didn’t matter. Peter shivered as his tongue met the crisp skin and venom transferred to the meat. Oops, didn’t mean to do that. Oh well. He stepped back and felt the flavor on his fangs when they were back in his mouth. 

His mind shut off as he tore through the first turkey. It was a half day at school the day before meaning he didn’t get his free lunch and his last meal was a child’s sandwich at Delmar’s. A full day ago.  

“You should slow down Peter,” Karen warned from above. 

“Yeah kid, you better be careful, some of it may get in your mouth," Tony joked. He piled his plate with a normal human amount of food. 

Peter swallowed and stopped eating to catch his breath before slowly putting more food on his plate. “Nice Get Smart reference, Mr. Stark.”

“Into old television shows?”

He shrugged and kept his eyes down, “I was sick a lot as a kid. It was something to do between reading.” 

Mr. Stark hummed. 

I shouldn’t have said that while he was sober. He might look into it now. “Is that all the food you’re going to eat, Mr. Stark?”

“Maybe I’ll have seconds, but not everyone has a super metabolism like you do Spiderboy.” He filled his wine glass up to the near top and laughed to himself. Then in a second glass he put a small amount. “Here you go kid, happy holidays. You’re not getting anymore, so enjoy it.”

Peter looked down at the glass. The situation kind of reminded him of when Aunt May and Uncle Ben would offer him a sip of their wine when they went to a fancy restaurant or the last Christmas they spent together. It was so gross. And now I feel sad.  

“You don’t have to drink it if you don’t want to Pete.”

I’m going to do it. To Aunt May and Uncle Ben. Peter picked up the glass and dumped it into his mouth quickly. Oh my gosh this is just as bad as I remember. It caused him to cough and he had to down some water to sooth the burn. 

“Damn kid, you’re not supposed to knock it back like a shot. Maybe on Easter, you can try again,” Mr. Stark joked.  

“How dare you find enjoyment in my pain,” Peter whined. 

Mr. Stark chuckled, and they went back to their meal. As the night went on Peter ate more food than he ever had in his life to the point where he could barely move, and his mentor downed enough wine to transform him into drunk Mr. Stark. 

The night ended with them both talking around the island putting leftovers into Tupperware containers. “Shame we don’t have another person; we could play cards. My Aunt Peggy, Jarvis, and I used to when we were all together for the holidays,” Mr. Stark said.  

Shame we can't talk like this when you're sober. "We probably could with Karen and Friday, right?" 

"I'm not sure that would be fair for you two, Peter," Karen said. 

"Come now, we're both geniuses. We could do it," Mr. Stark argued. 

"You two are very smart, but we can run algorithms for millions of ways to win. Really, it would only be a game between Karen and I," Friday said. 

Mr. Stark grumbled, "yeah, yeah. You’re both super smart. Don't forget who created you."

"Of course, Boss."

"Yes Dad," Karen said sarcastically. 

The shocked expression on Mr. Stark's face caused Peter to laugh out loud. Karen and Friday joined him after a moment with their mechanical voices. The interaction made Peter feel warm inside.

It took a while and a lot of Tupperware, but they organized the fridge. "Do you want to take any of this home with you?" Mr. Stark asked as they stacked in the last few containers. 

"No thank you, I'll be back to eat it anyway," Peter responded. I wish I could take some home with me. I need to fix up a refrigerator or something. 

"You better, I can't eat all this." Mr. Stark drank the last of the wine in the bottle and left it on the countertop. "You can stay here tonight if you want. I know you're tired." 

"No thanks Mr. Stark."

"I can call Happy," Mr. Stark suggested. 

"No, it would be wrong to make him leave his family."

"Yeah, you're right. I'd have to give him a hell of a holiday pay too."

Peter nodded. "I'll see you tomorrow!" He went to the bathroom to change into his suit. At least that gets easier every time. Mr. Stark waved to him as he dove from the balcony.

I didn't expect to have such a great day. 

Everyday Peter got more comfortable around Mr. Stark as a whole, but there were things he couldn’t tell the man. Mainly, things about his dicey past and his latest investigation into alien weaponry. Anytime Peter tried to casually talk about alien things with his mentor, the man tended to stiffen, become snappy, and end lab time early. 

After those reactions Peter started leaving out his ongoing investigation on the alien weapons being sold on the streets in his reports. Not that he’s been making that much progress, especially since he’s been swinging around Manhattan a lot more. So much so that people have been noticing his arrival and some of the other boroughs have been wondering when he’ll expand his territory. Something Peter will definitely do, but first he wanted to get the supplier of these alien weapons and stop them from spreading to other areas. 

This work was a bit more serious than saving cats from trees. 

“How much longer would you like to brood edgily?” Karen jokingly asked.

“I would have liked another few minutes, but I guess I’m done now,” Peter responded with fake annoyance. The bottom line was that Peter needed a bit of help because he and Karen couldn’t figure out a pattern of where these guys showed up and they couldn’t ask Mr. Stark for help. But Peter did know a place he could go for information. 

I'm not looking forward to going in. Peter swung to a non-descript apartment roof in Queens. He climbed down the side of the building headfirst, found the window with the broken lock, shimmied the glass, and crept inside. This particular apartment was always empty, and the vents were large enough to crawl in. There was a thick layer of dust that coated the inside of the chrome.

Gross. "Karen, can you put on the suit ventilation?" It is so much easier to breathe. He continued squeezing through the maze and the temperature dropped steadily as he descended. 

I never wanted to come here again. 

From early on, Peter knew the strain he put on his aunt and uncle. They had to pay for his parent’s funerals, his numerous medical expenses, and the expense of his general wellbeing. They always needed money. Aunt May was a nurse, but the hospital cut back resulting in her working more hours for less pay. Uncle Ben was a police officer who worked overtime so they could pay bills. But they had Peter, and someone had to watch him, so they were forced to juggle schedules and make deals with employers.  

They couldn’t hire a babysitter.

By the time Peter was thirteen, they reluctantly started leaving him home especially since his health mysteriously improved following a near death experience after a trip to Oscorp. Peter followed a strict rule that he wasn’t allowed to do things he couldn’t do before the bite like play football or stop Flash from bullying him. But that rule was for people who knew Peter Parker, not for the people who only knew him wearing the suit. 

The place was exactly as he remembered it. It’s only been a year. Of course it would be. There were a lot of ways to get money quick in New York if you were willing. Unfortunately, Peter was not willing to go into drugs, weapons, or prostitution, so that left him with one good option that utilized his newfound powers.

Enhanced cage fighting. 

On a Saturday morning it was quiet, the show wouldn’t start for at least another twelve hours, but the announcer was sitting near the dodecahedron ring. Peter shivered from the memories of electric shocks and screaming. You're a hero now. Not an animal in the cage. You need to be brave.

"Registration starts at three," the announcer said without looking up. He was a blonde man with hair styled high and gravel for a voice. A nice guy in a bad business. 

"I'm not here for that."

The announcer looked up to him with tired eyes. "Then what are you here for? Going to shut down the place that gave you your name?"

"Information."

"No."

"Come on, you don't even know what I need."

"I know not to sell out."

"I just need a tip. Heard anything about alien weapons?"

The announcer's hand stilled its writing and dotted part of the page. "No."

"Mac, you know this is important, it's bad enough out there with regular weapons on the streets. A lot of people's lives are at stake." 

The man sighed heavily. "I can't, you know this." 

"You can. And you'd be saving lives. I just need to know where to go, and then I won't need to bother you. I don't even need names." 

"Did you ever go to that hotdog house I recommended to you last year?" The announcer suddenly asked.

“Um, I didn’t get a chance to. Not to be rude-”

“I think you should go there. Try the Italian hotdog not the Coney Island.”

“Okay?”

“Do you remember where it is? On Deluca Street? It’s right across from an abandoned gas station. Not a good view, but those hotdogs.” The announcer whistled.  

Why is he giving me food recommendations? Oh wait. Oh. OH! "Thanks Mac. Appreciate it. I love Italian hotdogs. I’ll go check it out now, actually." 

He nodded slowly. "You're always welcome back kid, if you need a place to go." 

"Thanks, I'll keep that in mind." Peter aimed his web shooter to the ceiling. 

"Be careful kid, birds are known to eat spiders." He went back to his writing. 

At least some people were still good, despite the bad memories.  

Turned out, the Italian hotdogs there were REALLY good. It was also low cost for a twelve-inch dog, which was helpful because Peter had been staking the place out for the last week. Maybe Mac was lying to me. Sad, but at least I had good food because of it. 

“Are we heading to that disgusting hotdog house again, Peter?” Karen asked annoyed. 

“Yeah, I want one more hotdog before we end this stake out. Then we’ll go back to wandering by chance.” He had to start not visiting the area as much anyway because people were taking pictures of him and soon it would be all over Twitter that Spiderman’s new favorite place to hang out was this small building in the middle of nowhere. It was true, but it ruined his chances if criminals knew where he was going to be. 

“Peter, your core temperature has begun to drop. May I suggest going to the tower?” Karen asked. 

Peter sat on top of the building and finished his meal. “Nah, I’ll just go home. It’s Thursday anyway, Mr. Stark isn’t expecting me.” To think, I missed Flash’s party for this. Ned looked so sad.

“You could still go there to eat and be warm.”

“I don’t want him to think I just show up to eat his food and use his heat.” Although, I should probably check the webs.

“Oh, you don’t do that?” Karen joked. 

“Haha. I don’t know when you gained a sense of humor.”

“I have a very good teacher. He thinks he’s very funny.”

“He IS very funny,” Peter agreed. “Alright, I think it’s time-oh look at that! Karen, this may be our chance!” A white van had been sitting at the gas station for a half an hour and suddenly started to move when another man pulled up next to it. They both positioned themselves behind the gas station building to obscure them from view.

“It’s just a white van, don’t get too excited.”

He leapt off the roof, TWIPPED his web to another building, and landed on the giant broken marquees. “Nothing good ever comes from a white van.” Peter jumped onto the gas station roof. “Karen, can you tell me who that is? Are they dangerous?”

“The buyer is Aaron Davis. History of minor offenses, no major prison or jail time," Karen summarized.  

"And those guys?" 

“How about a demonstration?” One man asked. He shot a stack of discarded pavers causing a small blue explosion and electricity to surge through the air continuously. “Pretty good, eh? From a reclaimed subultron arm straight from Sokovia. Here, you try.”

The gun was shoved into Aaron’s arms. “I wanted something lowkey. Why you trying to upsell me, man?”

The man took back the gun. “Don’t worry, I got what you need. Black hole grenades, rail guns, seizer shooters…”

“Look, times are changing and we’re the only ones selling these high-tech weapons. You’re going to need them,” said a second man. 

“I just need something to stick up somebody. I’m not trying to send them back through time. Got anything normal?” Aaron asked. 

“..anti-grav climbers.”

“Climbers? Lemme take a look at that.”

The sparks of electricity were still in the air from the last fire off and they managed to hit the top of the gas station. Where Peter was. Electricity coursed through him, “ugh!” 

“What the hell was that?!” the second man demanded. He drew a gun and pointed it at Aaron, “what is this? A set up?!”

“Whoa, man,” Aaron said, and raised his hands in surrender.   

Oh no, they’ll shoot him! Spiderman flipped off the roof of the building, webbed the man's gun, and yanked it out of his hand. Without thinking, he ran forward only to be met with an electrified fist. More electricity shot through him as he was thrown back into a wall. “What the heck was that?” 

In the second Peter was down, Aaron drove away in his car and the other two guys hopped in the van. In quick thinking he shot his webs to the back doors of the van as it sped off. As the van veered, Peter was thrown into trash cans, leaves, and gained all the skid marks. Just as Spiderman got a handle on being dragged medieval torture style, the man fired pink plasma blasts at him. 

Just give me a break!

The door of the van flew off, sending him careening into a fence and the door smashing into him. “Oh, come on! Time for a short cut.” The shortcut was through multiple backyards, he pet a dog, knocked over a tree house, got hit by multiple tree branches, crashed into someone’s party, ruined a campout, and finally ended up running on roofs. 

This is what I live for! He leapt off a roof and had perfect aim for the van. “Gottcha. Surprise!”

A pair of talons gripped his shoulders.

“What the heck!” When Peter looked up and two glowing green eyes bore down back at him. Oh my god, I’ve met death. Peter struggled to break free, but the bird’s grip was solid, and he became disoriented the higher up they went. Any webs he shot were instantly shredded by intimidating metal wings. 

"You’re at a height larger than three thousand feet!” Karen said frantically, “deploying parachute." 

"Wait! No! Karen don't-" The parachute deployed, and it caused the metal bird man to drop him. It didn’t shoot out correctly though, so it did nothing to slow his fall. The best Peter could do was make sure he broke water the correct way. 

Luckily, none of his bones shattered on impact but he ended up ten feet under water and tangled in the wire and canvas of the parachute. It only got worse as he failed around and struggled to get to the surface. Karen panicked in his ears, but her voice was garbled and unrecognizable. 

It's so cold. I'm too tangled in the strings. I don't even know which way is up. He was still scared and panicked, but he started to calm. Peter’s head began to feel light and he struggled to not open his mouth to gasp. 

But he did anyway. 

I wonder if they'll find my body. I wonder which parents they'll put me next to. 

Far off, there was a loud splash and the parachute he was attached to flew upwards and yanked him along with it. It was cold in the river; it was freezing back in the air. Then he was dropped on the ground and the parachute was ripped away. A gust of wind flew into his lungs causing him to cough out the water. 

It took a few more coughs to clear his system, and when his lungs stopped burning so bad Peter looked up to his mentor in his shiny suit of armor. "Mr. Stark?" 

The face plate opened to Mr. Stark’s face on a screen. "Peter Parker, what the fuck is going on?!" Mr. Stark yelled. 

He's not actually here. He doesn't care enough to be here. "I was following up on the-the alien weapon investigation." Oxygen was still trying to catch up his brain and the freezing cold didn't make it any easier. 

"Okay, yeah, I remember listening to that, where was the part with the goddamn bird man that dropped you from thousands of feet in the fucking air?!" 

"I did-didn't know about," Peter took a huge gulp of air, "him." 

"Well besides the bird man, alien weapons are above your pay grade-" 

"-I don't get paid."

"Sush, the adult is talking! These weapons are way too dangerous for you to deal with."

"Mr. Sta-"

"No. There is no discussion on this. Now, do you have any injuries?" 

He's not going to stop me. "A couple, but I can deal with it." Peter finally got up off the ground and steadied himself. 

"That's concerning," Karen said, her voice came from Mr. Stark’s end rather than Peter’s suit. "He says he's fine with minor injuries, it could be something serious."

Way to sell me out Karen. "No, I'm fine. I'm going to swing-"

"I don't think so Peter. The suit will take you home so we can check your injuries." The metal man moved to hold him. 

Peter perked up on surprise. Did he just…? 

The suit tried to shield him from the wind as best as it could, but at some point, Peter felt so cold he began to feel warm. The metal he was pressed against didn't do him any favors either. When they landed on the Tower's balcony Tony was waiting for them with a towel and a blanket. The towel was thrown around him first and then the blanket. His mentor was close enough that Peter could see him shaking and smell the alcohol on his breath. “Just take a moment to warm up. Don’t want you to go through shock.”

Gradually, the blanket heated up and when Peter stopped shivering, Mr. Stark shuffled him inside. The ridiculous high temperature of the penthouse was welcome, and Peter curled the blanket around himself tighter as he entered.

“He needs to be scanned!” Karen’s voice boomed. 

“The kid needs a second,” Tony said after he saw Peter’s wince. 

The scan a few minutes later mostly showed superficial wounds that were already healing and that his lungs didn’t sustain permanent damage. Mr. Stark pulled out some clothes for Peter, so he could change out of his shredded suit that needed to be fixed. “Go change, and then when you come back, we need to discuss what your priorities are as Spiderman, mainly, not going after those weapons and keeping close to the ground.”

“I’m going to do this. I’m going to find out who they are,” Peter said quietly. But he still looked into his mentor’s eyes. I’m not backing down from this. 

“No, you’re not.”

“You can’t stop me,” Peter said standing up straighter. 

“I’m Iron Man, I can stop a minor league vigilante.”

“You couldn’t even get into your own suit.”

Tony Stark reared back. “Do you even understand what could have happened to you? If he would have dropped you onto the streets you would have shattered your bones! Hell, if you landed in the water the wrong way it could have killed you! Thank God, Karen alerted me otherwise you would have drowned!”

“I know, you don’t think I don’t realize that?! I didn’t exactly expect to be doing this tonight, I thought I would be going after some guys in a white van!” Peter shouted back.

“Because that makes it so much better!” Mr. Stark threw up his hands. “White vans! Nothing good ever comes from a white van! Do you know what would have happened if you died?!”

“NOTHING!” Peter screamed. “Nothing would have happened.” 

“That’s not true,” Mr. Stark said and took a deep breath, “I’d never be able to forgive myself if you died. The city, the world would lose one of its best heroes. You’d never be able to grow up and experience everything because you died chasing criminals that would be replaced as soon as they’re gone.”

They stood six feet apart from each other in silence. “I’m going to the bathroom.” 

Mr. Stark collapsed on the couch and moved his hand over his head. “Okay.”

The bathroom is one of the rooms in the penthouse where Peter spent a lot of time. It’s probably ranked at least three or four, beat out by the kitchen and the lab, maybe tied with the living room. Ceiling not included. It was a convenient panic room, small enough to make him feel safe and large enough to not be claustrophobic and he could lock it himself. 

His first time coming over to fix the suit he almost couldn’t change out of his clothes he shook so much.

Friday told him that there were no cameras, and she could only talk to him in the room, which calmed him down considerably especially since Karen said the same thing. Whenever he came to the tower, he brought a change of clothes with him, so he would have to wear the clothes that were provided. He peeled off his suit. They’re just clothes. Don’t think about that they’re his. Even if the MIT sweatshirt was the only article that seemed like it would fit his mentor. 

Someone would have cared if I died, not just Spiderman disappearing. Ned would probably be the only other one, but I don’t think he’d be surprised. His peers at school would barely notice his absence and the few adults he interacted with would probably say his early end was inevitable. But it’s not inevitable. I’m still here. I’m not drowned at the bottom of the Hudson. 

Peter paused and shivered with disgust. It’s been almost a year since my full body was wet and it was in the Hudson. Ew. It was almost enough to get him to shower to get off all the gross river water. But instead, he turned the water on in the sink to be scolding and did his normal cleaning routine with his hands.  

It was so cold. So, so cold and no one would have found him if he was still wearing his old suit. Even if that one didn’t have a parachute I would have drowned anyway. Peter’s breathing picked up and his body shook as if it was still trying to get warm. Get yourself together, Parker.

By the time Peter came out of the bathroom, Mr. Stark was passed out on the couch. He was glad he was asleep so they didn’t have to talk right now, but if that were completely true then Peter wouldn’t have crumpled on the kitchen floor. He sat with his legs pulled tight to his chest and his arms wrapped around them. The updated modern feel of the penthouse was harsh on the eyes and the cleaners used assaulted his nose and made his throat burn. It felt like he could hear everything in the tower from his own breathing to the hum in Mr. Stark’s chest. 

You need to go home. You need leave soon. But he couldn’t get up. I can’t go back right now. Back to a place where anyone can walk into. Back to where the cold surrounds him. Back to a place where no one cares.  

There was no way he was going to sleep tonight there or here. 

Get up. 

On shaky legs he stood and steadied himself with the counter. 

“Peter, your breathing is irregular, and your heartbeat is erratic again, would you like me to call someone?” Karen asked gently. 

He glanced over to the couch and huffed a laugh. “Who would you call?”

There was silence, meaning the A.I didn’t know either. “I could call Mr. Rhodes, Mr. Hogan, or Ms. Potts,” Friday brought up, “she always knows what to do.”   

“I’m fine.” Peter took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I’m fine.” The island he was leaning on was littered with glass bottles. Not surprising, Peter hadn’t cleaned the last time he was here. For the first time he picked up a bottle and really looked at it. 

The liquid was amber in color and was in a circular crystal that had a XO on the label. He didn’t know a lot about alcohol, but it looked expensive. The bottle was mostly full, only a little bit empty, like only one or two mouthfuls were gone. From the corner of his eye, Peter saw his mentor sleeping peacefully.

“It’s unlikely that would affect you Peter, with your metabolism,” Karen said quickly. 

Not true, I’d just have to drink more than the regular person. Like with coffee. “Does it help him? Does it make him feel better?” Peter asked.

“No, I don’t believe so,” Friday answered. 

Peter sighed and put the stopper in. “Shame.” He put the bottle down and started putting the empty ones in the recycling. The ones that still had liquor in it went back into the massive cabinet. There’s probably enough to get me drunk in here. There was a variety of glass bottle shape, size, and color that were haphazardly shoved in. 

His hands itched. 

Peter didn’t know how long it took, but he pulled all the bottles out of the cabinet and placed them back where his body said was the correct place. By the end all the glasses were evenly spaced, and the cabinet had an overall ombre effect. It didn’t matter that by the next time he was at the tower they would be messed up again, it only mattered that they were fixed right now.

It was easy to go back into autopilot and not think about anything. Clean up the rest of the penthouse, throw a blanket over Mr. Stark, set out the pills, water, and bucket. The usual stuff. Then he scaled the walls to his nest of webs above his mentor to make sure he was fine in his sleep. 

Like a widow, he kept vigil. 

Hours later, his body told him to move. It placed him in the middle of an East facing window. He knew the reason why Mr. Stark wanted the tallest tower in all New York was to brag and prove how great he was, but Peter hoped another reason was to be able to bask in the sun’s glorious morning rays. At first he couldn’t see the sun, only the light as it turned the sky from a midnight blue to purple which gave way to reds and orange. Then from the buildings came the beautiful ball of light that was so big and bright it burned the sight. 

Beautiful. Absolutely beautiful. It’s been too long since I’ve seen the sunrise. 

From the couch, Mr. Stark groaned and threw an arm over his face. “Fuck the sun,” he groaned. 

Peter laughed. Laughed until there were tears in his eyes. 

“Could you keep it down kid?” Mr. Stark grumbled. 

“Sure Mr. Stark.”

Mr. Stark sat up quickly and looked at Peter with a confused, scrunched expression. Before he could say anything, he blew chunks into the bucket Peter placed beside him the night before. Mr. Stark clutched the bucket to his chest and let Peter hand him a glass of water and a side of Tylenol. “Morning Pete. Nice to see ya.”   

“You too, Mr. Stark,” Peter said with a smile. 

Chapter Text

Since Karen suggested to him so many things to read, Tony had about a thousand tabs open on his computer. It was easy to avoid THE article when he placed it in the middle of the mass, there but out of sight. Sometimes he would accidentally click on that tab and quickly dart to another. Other times he’d work up the nerve to go there but exit it only to reopen the tab and throw it back into the mass.

It was one of those days. 

Tony’s hands itched and his mouth was dry. He took a swig from a water bottle instead of the whiskey that was just out of reach. They mocked him, the words on the screen. 

THE TWELVE STEPS OF ALCOHOLICS ANONYMOUS

1. We admitted we were powerless over alcohol-that our lives had become unmanageable without it.  

And he refused to look further down the list. There have been times when Tony thought about this before, especially after he became Iron Man. But even after Afghanistan the first moment he could he went back to the bar. Most of his attempts of getting clean were halfhearted at best or to get Pepper off his back. But now it was a little different with the kid’s voice bouncing through his head.

“Tony Stark, genius, billionaire, functioning alcoholic, playboy, philanthropist.”

It didn’t quite fit in with the other words phonetically, but it was an accurate descriptor. If it had been anyone else who said it, especially as a joke, Tony wouldn’t have thought much about it, but the KID said it. Since the kid came around so often of course he’d seen Tony drunk and hungover and even helped him during those times. But for him to feel like he could make a joke about it especially when he was drunk...it made Tony feel gross.

Because the kid saw it as normal and didn’t say anything to him about it other than asking if he wanted to go to sleep. 

What was more concerning was Peter’s reaction when he realized what he said. It’s like the kid thought Tony would hit him or something. Oh no. His chest constricted. Is that why the kid got scared like that? He thought I’d hurt him? His right arm moved to his chest. I’m nothing like Howard, he must know that.

But does he?

Sure, he and the kid have been connecting more recently. Tony would throw in good memories of Pepper and sometimes Peter would talk about his recently deceased aunt. But Tony never spoke of his father. I don’t think he’s ever mentioned his uncle or his parents other than stating they were scientists.  

Tony looked over the list of reading materials again. He told Karen to organize the list so the items most helpful to Peter were near the top and by default all his own self-help stuff was at the bottom. A little way down the list started the books detailing childhood abuse, multiple forms of it, and some of its effects. These readings were scattered all through the list.

That’s why he was so quiet and twitchy. He thought I was going to hurt him. Shame and panic circled through his body. Quickly, he switched tabs off his to ready list which brought him back to the AA website where the words still fucking mocked him. No, I’m not like him, it’s not that bad. I don’t endanger him in any way. It’s only me.  

He still felt queasy. I would never hit him. Not when I am drunk. Not when I’m sober. He went to his cabinet, pulled out a random bottle, and angrily exited out of the tab. I’ll put it back on later. Tony downed a portion of the bottle and waited.  

The feeling was still there. In a way, it was always there. But at least it was numbed.  

“You know I would ask you how you put yourself on my screen, but with how my A.I’s have been acting recently, I can only guess,” Tony said to Nick Fury. 

Fury didn’t look impressed. “Hello to you too Stark. We’ve been trying to contact you directly for the past two weeks.”

“I’ve been busy.”

“Sure, looks like it,” Fury said with a snort. His eye looked around the penthouse to the multitude of bottles and glasses.

“Fuck you.”

“I’ll get to the point Stark; the Avengers need to get back together.”

Tony’s breath caught in his throat. “Okay. I’m not going to stop you. Just keep them far away from me.”

“All the Avengers. That means you.”

“No.”

Fury’s expression didn’t change, he didn’t become more sympathetic and his voice didn’t change. “That’s too bad, you’re part of the team. Some would say the most important part of the team, even if I don’t agree.”

“Well, I don’t give a shit. I never want to see those people again, and you can’t make me.”

The one-eyed man took a deep breath and leaned back in his chair. “Legally, no, I can’t make you. But think of it this way: something big is coming, you know this. You’ve seen it. Don’t you want to be prepared?”

This son of a bitch. Tony clenched his teeth. “You can do it without me.”

“Fine. If you want to be that way, there are other candidates. Ever hear of Spiderman?” Fury paused and pointed up, “don’t bother denying it. I know you didn’t just start decorating your ceiling.”

No. NO. GOD NO. “You can’t have him! If you’re serious, then you know that he’s a minor and you can’t touch him.”

“Like you? He’s an enhanced orphan, it wouldn’t be hard. Here’s the deal Stark: I’ll keep your kid out of this if you become a team player.”

“Fine. Fine. I’ll do whatever you need me to, just keep Peter out of this. He doesn’t deserve it.” 

“Nice to know you can be reasonable. It’s going to be a while before you see any of the old team. They’ve scattered and we still need to work out a deal with the U.N, but I’ll keep you updated, so get your affairs in order. That includes your little visitor.”

With a flicker, Fury’s projection disappeared leaving Tony staring out the tower’s window to a view of the sunset. I can’t believe this. Just like that the team is getting back together. A year hadn’t even passed, and by the sound of it, the Rogues won’t be facing any repercussions for their actions because Fury said so. Tony picked up a bottle. 

All the planning, arguing, and fighting just so they fell into a worse place they were before. I’m going to have to start interacting with Ross again, that smug bastard. They’re going to make me interact with all of them too. And probably force me out of retirement. Those assholes, I’m enjoying my pseudo retirement. Fuck them. And Fury, the fucking asshole he is, threatening to drag the kid into all this. Wait. “Friday, am I an asshole?”

“Generally, yes, but in what regard are you talking about?” Friday said. 

These fucking A.I’s why did I make them so people like? “For bringing Peter into this.”

“The moment he put on the suit is the moment he was brought into this. Just like you.”

Just like me. I don’t know how to feel about that. “Okay, I think I’m checking out for the day.” I think I deserve this after the Avengers shit. It’s Thursday anyway, so it’s not like the kid will see me like this. I’ll stop tomorrow. No. On Saturday, in the morning. I just need two more days of this. “Put me on ‘do not disturb’ for anyone. That includes Fury, he already talked to me enough today.”

His A.I sighed mechanically, “of course, Boss.” 

It seemed the world was extra against him today because Tony’s pity party was interrupted sometime later by a loud beeping. “Friday, what the hell is that?”

“That would be the Spiderbaby distress beacon, would you like me to display an image?”

“What?! YES. Put it on screen!”

Tony was horrified by what he saw. It was so much worse than watching the footage after Peter made his reports. His kid was being propelled into the air by some super villain fuckbag decked out in giant metal wings and glowing green eyes. The bird dick flew them up so fast the lights of the city blurred together. 

“Fri, ready the suit, I’m flying out!” Tony yelled as he stumbled to the balcony. But Friday didn’t open the glass doors to the landing. “Friday come on! I need to help him!”

“I cannot let you get into a suit; your blood alcohol level is too high.”

“Fuck, Friday. Override it!” Tony pressed himself against the cold glass of the balcony doors.

“You cannot override a protocol installed by both Rhodey and Ms. Potts,” Friday responded quickly. 

“I deployed his parachute! I don’t know what else I can do!” Karen cried.

His neck snapped to the screen and saw Peter becoming tangled midair and smashing into the water. “Either let me out or send Mark VI by itself then! He needs help!”

“Deploying Mark VI,” Friday said. The suit marched from the platform and took off into the sky.

“Why the fuck didn’t you let him go? It would have been faster for him to go get Peter!” Karen yelled. “He could be dead by the time it gets there!”

“It is unsafe for him to fly while intoxicated,” Friday argued back. 

“He’s in the Hudson river, Tony can literally SEE him from here!” Karen screamed back. 

Tony pressed his face to the window. He squinted his eyes and far off in the middle of the river was a white ring of disturbed water. The only thing that was on the visual was a view of a tangled canvas and trapped bubbles of air rising to the surface. It felt like hours were going by. Hours where all Tony could do was watch his kid struggle before slowing down. 

Karen still yelled in the background, but her voice (and any other noise) was far away until Mark VI broke the surface of the water. Tony let out a breath he didn’t know he held as Peter was pulled from the water and dropped him on a floating dock. Karen used the ventilation in the suit to push air into his lungs.

Peter gasped and threw up water. “Mr. Stark?”

Thank you to any God that still listens to me. “Put me through. Peter Parker, what the fuck is going on?!” Tony yelled. 

"I was following up on the-the alien weapon investigation."

He hasn’t said anything about that in weeks! "Okay, yeah, I remember listening to that, where was the part with the goddamn bird man that dropped you from thousands of feet in the fucking air?!" 

"I did-didn't know about," Peter took a huge gulp of air, "him." 

"Well besides the bird man, alien weapons are above your pay grade-" 

"-I don't get paid."

"Sush, the adult is talking! These weapons are way too dangerous for you to deal with."

"Mr. Sta-"

"No. There is no discussion on this. Now, do you have any injuries?" 

The kid took a minute to answer. "A couple, but I can deal with it." Peter got up off the ground and steadied himself. 

He’s like a newborn deer. 

"That's concerning," Karen said from above. "He says he's fine with minor injuries, it could be something serious."

Fuck. She’s right. He always does that. 

"No, I'm fine. I'm going to swing-"

"I don't think so Peter. The suit will take you home so we can check your injuries." This kid. 

Peter perked up and let Mark VI hold him. 

It wouldn’t take long for them to arrive at the tower, thankfully and in the meantime, Tony grabbed a towel, a heated blanket, and an extra set of clothes he placed on the couch. His kid clung to the Mark VI suit when it landed and stumbled out of its arms. Tony rushed out to wrap him in both articles before he could enter the tower and set the blanket on gradual increasing heat. “Just take a moment to warm up. Don’t want you to go through shock.”

When Peter stopped shivering so hard, Tony walked him inside. Defrosting just like the Campbell snowman on those soup commercials. Peter curled the blanket around himself tighter as they entered. I should have raised the temperature of this place to ninety. 

“He needs to be scanned!” Karen’s voice boomed. 

Peter winced.

“The kid needs a second.” He doesn’t need to go into sensory overload right now. 

Once everyone calmed down considerably Friday ran an external scan and Karen did a quick scan on the half functioning suit. Thankfully, most of the injuries were surface level and the suit protected him from too much harm. “Go change, and then when you come back, we need to discuss what your priorities are as Spiderman, mainly, not going after those weapons and keeping close to the ground.” The kid was so tiny compared to him that the pants and undershirt Tony gave him were from some clothes Pepper left behind. The MIT sweatshirt from him would be large, but comfy. 

“I’m going to do this. I’m going to find out who they are,” Peter said quietly. The kid looked him in the eyes with defiance. 

Normally, I’d be happy he’s saying no, but not this time. “No, you’re not.”

“You can’t stop me,” Peter said and stood up straighter. 

“I’m Iron Man, I can stop a minor league vigilante.”

“You couldn’t even get into your own suit.”

Tony reared back. “Do you even understand what could have happened to you? If he would have dropped you onto the streets you would have shattered your bones! Hell, if you landed in the water the wrong way it could have killed you! Thank God, Karen alerted me otherwise you would have drowned!” Even without the parachute the kid can’t swim!

“I know, you don’t think I don’t realize that?! I didn’t exactly expect to be doing this tonight, I thought I would be going after some guys in a white van!” Peter shouted back.

“Because that makes it so much better!” Tony threw up his hands. “White vans! Nothing good ever comes from a white van! Do you know what would have happened if you died?!”

“NOTHING!” Peter screamed. “Nothing would have happened.” 

“That’s not true,” Tony said and took a deep breath. Friday’s voice rushed back into his head: Just like you. “I’d never be able to forgive myself if you died. The city, the world would lose one of its best heroes. You’d never be able to grow up and experience everything because you died chasing criminals that would be replaced as soon as they’re gone.”

They stood six feet apart from each other in silence. “I’m going to the bathroom.” 

Peter skittered off and Tony collapsed back on the couch. His body was heavy with weariness and worry. His leg hit the bottle he abandoned at the start of this fiasco and without thought, his hand reached down for it. He could have died. He could have died because I couldn’t get into the suit. His hand pulled away from the bottle and he curled into the couch.

What a fucking day. 

I really need to have a talk with that boy when he gets back. Why can’t he just stay close to the ground? Keep to the little old ladies and cats. I’m sure the police or Shield were already on the guy’s trail. I just want to keep him safe; can’t he see that? He just wants to run into the field with no regard to himself and he thinks nothing will happen if he dies! I just don’t get it. Goddamn, why does he have to be like this? Can’t he just want to be at least a kinda normal super child? Tony sunk further down into the couch and let his consciousness slip. Why does he have to be... 

Just like me.

One of the best parts of Tony’s functional alcoholism (as the kid would say) was that they gave him a no dream sleep. It was great for getting through the night, but the consequences were always there in the morning, especially since he accidentally collapsed on the east facing windows. The morning light felt like a hammer to his skull, so he threw an arm over his eyes. “Fuck the sun,” he groaned. 

Peter’s laugh caused the hammer to smack down tenfold. 

“Could you keep it down kid?” Tony grumbled. 

“Sure Mr. Stark.”

Wait. Tony sat up quickly and saw Peter sticking to the middle of his window. It’s too early for him to be here. Did he sta-TOO MUCH. Liquid bubbled in his gut and he grabbed the trashcan next to him just in time. When Tony was sure nothing else would come up, he took the water and pills the kid offered him. “Morning Pete. Nice to see ya.”   

“You too, Mr. Stark,” Peter said with a smile. 

Tony had to sit on the couch for a while to collect himself and eventually the kid gingerly sat a foot away from him. “You look like hell,” Tony said.

The kid snorted, “I got dragged through the street, thrust into the air, and almost drowned. What’s your excuse?”

“You’re a little shit, you know that?”

“That’s what they say.”

“Whose they?”

“The usual people, Karen, criminals, old metal men,” Peter finished with a laugh. 

Tony gave him an unimpressed look and tried to stand. “You know one day you’ll be an old spiderman.” I hope. 

“Or the mutation also gave me eternal youth. Imagine that, me being stuck at this age forever.”

“No.” 

The kid laughed again. 

“Someone's chipper this morning. Is it the sleep deprivation?” Tony asked. He looked to the kitchen. One step at a time.

“You know it.” 

“Unfortunately, I do.” Sleeping on the couch really doesn’t help my back. As Tony shuffled to the kitchen, Peter stayed right behind him. “You know, I’m not one of those little old ladies you help across the street.”

“You sure? Because with both of you, if I were to just carry you, it’d be a lot faster.”

They both made it to the kitchen and Peter took a seat at the island. “You little shit,” Tony mumbled as he opened the refrigerator. “You good with eggs or do I need to buy out half a Denny’s to keep you satisfied?”

Peter perked up. “You’re eating breakfast? Not just that gross egg mix?”

“It’s a hangover cure, and we’re eating breakfast. You like Denver omelets, right?”

“Yeah...I do.”

It’s like he thinks I don’t pay attention. “Some spiderbaby food, coming right up.”

“I’m not a baby,” the kid huffed. He looked so small outside the suit and swimming in Tony’s sweatshirt. “Do you need any help?”

“Nope. Just sit tight.” In all, he made four and a half omelets for the kid and took the last half for himself. They sat at opposite ends of the bar and ate together. Unfortunately, since the kid usually didn’t show up on Friday mornings there were no jackfruits for him. Wait, it’s Friday. At almost eight in the morning. “You want to lay down after this?”

The kid paused mid bite, “kinda.” He kept his eyes down at his plate. 

Tony nodded and cleaned up their plates when they were done. He led Peter down the hall to a room that was a few down from his own. Friday opened the door for them to a lightly Spiderman themed room. “Here you go kid, make it your own. Do whatever with it. I’ll be in the common room when you get up.”

Peter’s eyes were wide as he gave Tony an excited head nod. 

The door closed immediately, and Tony tried not to be offended by the click of the door locking. At least he seemed pretty happy with it. He went down the hall and into a separate office space that hadn’t been used in a while. It was soundproof, even to enhanced individuals, and that’s what he needed right now. “Friday, can you call Midtown High for me, dear?”

“Yes Boss, contacting the administration staff of Midtown Institute of Science and Technology. You will be connected in a moment.”

“Thank you.” 

The phone rang twice before a female voice came through. “Hello, you’ve reached Midtown Institute of Science and Technology, how can I help you?”

“Yes, this is Tony Stark and I’m calling to-”

The woman huffed, “I don’t appreciate prank calls.”

The line went dead.

Tony blinked and sat up in his chair. Did she just hang up on me? Tony Stark? “Friday, call again.” As soon as Tony would start to explain who he was, the woman, or some other member of the staff would get angry and hang up on him. What the fuck is going on here?

“Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to stop calling or I’m going to have to get the authorities involved.”

“Look lady, I am the TONY STARK. Didn’t you see the caller ID? What do I need to do? Give you my social security number? Jesus. Just check Peter Parker’s files. He should be listed as my intern and this number should be on there.”

There was a moment of silence before the woman got back to him. “Oh, it seems to be true, my apologies sir, um, Mr. Stark.”

She sounds so apologetic. Good. “It’s fine, really.”  

“And it seems you’re listed as his third emergency contact.”

I’m what? Who did that? Tony coughed. “Yes, as I was saying, I want to call him out for the day. We made a big breakthrough last night on a project and I need him here today again. So, he needs to be excused for the day on work study.” 

“Yes, of course. Thank you for your call.” 

“No problem,” Tony said easily. “Have a nice day.”

She hummed and hung up. 

Pepper would be so proud of my people skills. Hopefully next time it won’t be so annoying. One more thing to do today. Tony put out some feelers to see if he could get anything on a giant metal bird man that drops kids from the sky, but there was no immediate response or answers. Typical. He was prepared to leave his office, but Friday stopped him. “May I suggest looking over some of the Shield emails that Fury has sent?” 

“You could suggest that, but I’m going to ignore you,” Tony said.

“Even with his threat against Peter?” Karen asked.

Tony collapsed back into his chair. “This has nothing to do with you. I’m going to have to rewrite your code if you’re going to keep being so intrusive.”

“If it has something to do with Peter, it has everything to do with me.”

“Yeah, okay, whatever. Let’s get through some of these.”

I wish the kid had more footage I could go through instead of this shit. I could just surf the web for a bit. But he accidentally found himself on THE tab again, the one that mocked him and quickly decided it was better to get to work. It was mostly long email chains of preliminary plans to get the Avengers back together and how to navigate the legality of such a project. Some sick fuck suggested getting the Avengers back together after a major terrorist attack on a country that has limited resources to deal with something like that. How they would know how to plan for this was not something Tony wanted to dwell on, but he did earmark. 

Other emails were Fury and miscellaneous members of Shield trying to contact him and then getting particularly angry with his lack of response. The anger was mostly from Fury, and the funniest emails Tony bookmarked so he could print them out and frame them later. The less fun ones talked about hypothetical team building exercises and promoting the Avengers as a family unit. Once it became clear that Tony wasn’t reading these emails some of them came close to being not appropriate for work. 

Those emails were not only bookmarked but were sent to Pepper to be dealt with in an appropriate for work way. 

I think I’m done feeling shitty for the day. “Karen, status on the kid?”

“Still sleeping,” she said fondly. “I suggest we wake him up by five so he can eat and not mess up his sleep schedule.”  

“Sounds good, set an alarm for both of us at five, please.”

With that stuff finally squared away, Tony left his office and went to his liquor cabinet. Finally, I should have grabbed something sooner. He flung the doors open to see all the bottles neatly arranged; evenly spaced and in a way so that it looked like an ombre rainbow. What the fuck. I don’t think I did this. But that only leaves one other person. 

“Karen, did he drink any alcohol last night? Be honest,” Tony said. Please say no. What could I even do if he did?

“He didn’t,” Karen responded.

“Friday?” She’s smart enough to have the ability to lie. 

“He did not.”

“I wasn’t lying to you. Underage drinking is a very serious topic, even if you may not feel the same, I would have told you so you could get Peter help,” Karen spat.

Tony rolled his eyes. “I don’t remember programming you to be so goddamn mean.” I’m thinking brandy today. “And I do take the topic of underage drinking seriously, thanks.”

“Then stop.”

“Last time I checked, I’m way above the legal age to drink.”

Karen’s response came in the form of projecting a holoscreen in front of him. It was a video of last night when Tony had passed out on the couch and Peter was looking at an open bottle of E&J brandy. 

The same one he held.

“It’s unlikely that would affect you Peter, with your metabolism,” Karen said quickly. 

Without taking his eyes off the bottle, Peter asked, “does it help him? Does it make him feel better?” 

“No, I don’t believe so,” Friday answered. 

Peter sighed and put the stopper in. “Shame.” 

Tony clutched the bottle tighter as he watched his kid clean up the mess of bottles that he just now realized were gone from his floor and pull out the full liquor bottles. It took hours for the kid to organize anything and it seemed like he was in trance. Afterwards, he closed the cabinet, climbed to the ceiling, and existed above Tony until sunrise. 

“It seems you should be concerned with underage drinking,” Karen said. 

Tony was frozen. He’s what? Fifteen? That was about the age I started. The thought was a sucker punch to the gut. Or a shield to the chest. 

“It’s time for you to step up and be an example for him out of the suit because as much as I don’t understand it, he looks up to you. He wants to be just like you.” 

Just like me. 

“It’s up to you to determine what version of you he’s going to see,” Karen finished. 

Just like me. Tony clutched the bottle tighter and then put it back in the cabinet. He closed the doors and put his head on the seam. “Fine.” When he turned to face the holoscreen again, it was open to THE tab. 

THE TWELVE STEPS OF ALCOHOLICS ANONYMOUS

1. We admitted we were powerless over alcohol-that our lives had become unmanageable without it.  

Fuck. “I am power-powerless over alcohol,” Tony started. He leaned on the island where the screen was projected. “And my life has become unmanageable without it.” When he’d been to those rehab centers many people spoke about how good the moment they could admit their addiction to themselves felt. How freeing it was to say it out loud.

It wasn’t.

It made him feel gross. Like he just admitted he was weak, and he should be ashamed to be that way. Like he wasn’t a Stark man.

“Congratulations, Boss.” Friday said from above.

“The first step is the hardest,” Karen said cheerfully. 

I still feel gross. “Unfortunately, Karen that’s a lie. Withdrawal and keeping straight are the hardest parts. I know from experience.” Tony glanced at the time and it read three o’clock. Fuck, what am I going to do until the kid needs to get up? He went to the bathroom and obtained the neatly folded Spiderman suit. I guess I can look this over.

Tony started making plans on how to fix the suit and called in for Thai food at four so the large order could be delivered by five. The kid stumbled down the hallway just before the alarm was about to go off, seemingly lured in by the smell of food. His long hair stuck up in random places, his clothes were wrinkled, and his eyes were bleary. 

“You look like hell,” Tony commented. 

Peter went to the sink to put water on his hands, which he used to scrub his face. “Feel like it.”

No joke? He must be real out of it. The kid vacuumed down a large sum of the food and then smacked his head down to the counter. “Uuuuggghhhh,” he moaned. 

“I think you’re being a little dramatic kid; I didn’t think the food was that bad,” Tony joked. He had bubbled flavored water with dinner and his hands had started to shake.  

The kid rolled his head to the side to glare at Tony with one eye. “I slept all day and didn’t think about school, decathlon, or work. And I still feel gross.”

“Sounds like most of my days. It’s not like you have set hours at your little clubhouse, right?” Tony asked carefully. 

“It’s not good to be closed all the time. People get upset.”

“They can’t go anywhere else; you’ve cornered the market with your little garage operation.”

“I’m not a garage operation,” Peter grumbled. “I don’t even have a garage.”

No wonder his A.I is so sassy. “Sorry I forgot. It’s been a while since I visited. Maybe I should some time.”

“Yeah, sure.”

Someone’s still gloomy. “If it makes you feel better, I got you an excused absence from school.”

The kid jolted up so much he almost fell off his chair. “You what! Why?! Oh my god, Iron Man called me out of school because I was tired. That is SO embarrassing!” His head went back to the countertop and groaned.

Tony laughed. “I told them we had a huge breakthrough on a project to one secretary. They already knew you had an internship, right? No big deal.” Geez, I don’t remember being like this when Jarvis called me out of school. 

“Uuuuuugghggh.”

“Okay, okay, enough of this,” Tony chuckled. “I made some plans to fix the suit and we should get going on that if you want to go to sleep at a reasonable time tonight.”

“Ffffiiiiinnnneeeee,” Peter said. “How long until we can go into the lab?”

“What do you mean? We can go in right now.”

Peter’s eyes glanced down to Tony’s glass and back up to analyze him. “Alright, lets go.”

They stayed in the lab until ten o’clock because Tony noticed Peter was slowing down. “You know kid, it’s a little risky to leave outside the suit. Might compromise your identity.”

“You’re right.”

They organized the workstation and went back up to the penthouse. Tony walked down to his room, “good night, Peter.”

The kid stared at him from his doorway. “Good night, Mr. Stark.” 

The greatest blessing of the night was that Tony was tired enough to have a dreamless sleep. The greatest blessing of the morning was that the sun didn’t hurt him, and he didn’t need the bucket beside him. They both had a light breakfast, Tony because he was nauseous and Peter (presumably) because he was excited for more lab time. It took them most of the morning to finish the suit, which they were both proud of, and Peter went to the bathroom to change. Shame it needs to end.

Spiderman walked into the living room. The suit looked good and Tony nodded his head. “Everything feel good? Everything working?”

“Yep!” Peter exclaimed. The eye parts moved to be half circles to convey happiness.

“As far as I can tell, everything is functional,” Karen said.

“You sure?”

“Don’t worry Mr. Stark, I’ll let you know if anything is wrong with it tonight. See you later!” Peter said as he ran out to the balcony. 

Tony waved and watched Peter do an Olympic dive off his balcony. 

Now what am I going to do until he gets back? Can’t work on the tidal energy stuff without the kid here. I don’t feel like going through the self-help stuff or the Avengers shit. I really need to get a hobby. His eyes went to the cabinet. A better hobby. 

“Friday, can you get Happy on the phone for me?”

“Contacting Happy Hogan, you will be put through shortly.”

“What?” Happy asked when he picked up.

“Don’t sound too ecstatic to hear from me,” Tony said with an eye roll. I don’t care if he can’t see it, I’m sure he knows I did it. Like how I know he’s frowning right now. 

“You never call me because you have good news, Tones.”

“Rude. That’s just a false statement. Happy, I’m crushed. I actually have good news for you, you can sleep tonight. You don’t need to drive the kid home at two in the morning.”

Happy was silent for a moment. “Why?”

“What do you mean ‘why?’, you get a night off from Peter duty. Thought you’d be happy.”

“Because I’ve been on Peter duty for months and this is my first night off from it. You’re not freaking out, so you didn’t do anything stupid to drive him away.” 

“You think too little of me. And it’s because I think Peter will stay the night, but I’ll need you to drive him home tomorrow, kay?” 

“Alright.”

Just alright? “You sounded really suspicious before only to drop it so easily, not that I’m complaining here.”

“Congratulations, it’s a spiderboy,” Happy responded and hung up.

Tony’s mouth hung open. He meant that as a joke. He’s just trying to get back at me for all my jokes. His hands twitched and he swallowed. Now what? 

The answer was a combination of those articles Karen sent him, until he got to the first one about abuse, and then going back to Avengers emails. He didn’t even have the fortitude to go back to THE tab. Going through the first step was scarring enough for a week. 

I can’t look at these anymore. 

“Boss, I suggest you start on the SI backlog,” Friday said from above.

“Why the hell would I do that?”

“Because you sent Avengers related emails to Ms. Potts indicating you have begun work again.”

Fuck. She’ll be on my back now. Or worse, she’ll say nothing and silently resent me forever. “Ugh, why didn’t you stop me? Fine, let’s start to go through it all.” There were literally thousands of emails and things to sign or look over. This is the worst. Why did I start doing this? I should have just gone off the grid. Found a nice house next to a lake and became a wilderness survivalist.  

“Boss, Peter has arrived back to the tower.”

“Thank God. Tell him I’ll be out in a minute; I just need to finish this up.” He was in the middle of reviewing a deal Pepper made in Japan six months ago. She did a fantastic job. Peter and I will need to come up with something to cater to that market soon. When he exited his office, Tony saw the kid hanging…something to his ceiling webs. It looked like a cocoon about the size of his hand. “Hey kid, redecorating?”

Spiderman quickly turned to look at him and then back to the mass of webs. “Yep. Are you done? Friday said you’d be a minute.”

“Yeah, come down when you’re ready.” Tony watched the kid move around swiftly. Like a spider in his web. As they got closer to Christmas the kid started to make more elaborate snowflake designs along with gingerbread man, presents, a Christmas tree, and dancing snowmen. Kid’s got good taste. He should use more of those clumps. Makes everything more three dimensional. 

Tony went to the kitchen to start prep work when Spiderman landed next to him softly. “What are you doing, Mr. Stark?”

“We’re going to make the Stark family ravioli. It takes two days, so we need to start now if we’re going to have them for pasta night tomorrow. Get changed, and we’ll get started.”

Peter came back wearing his own pants and Tony’s MIT hoodie. “What’s first?”

“Alright Pete, this recipe has been passed down for generations, so don’t go blogging about it or whatever you kids do.”

“That makes you sound really old,” Peter commented. 

“I’m serious! We’re Italian Peter, we take our family recipes very seriously. My mother would win awards for this at church festivals.”

“Really?”

“Yep. And only three other people know this recipe, so pay attention.”

He’s so excited. His mother had taught the recipe to Pepper before she passed, and during one emotional holiday Tony taught it to Rhodey and Mama Rhodes. But it was a different feel with the kid. He’s looking at me as if I just told him he could use the infinity stones. Aside from their lab time, it was the most fun Tony’s had in a while. The only bad parts of it was the ache in his back and the occasional tremors that ran through his body.  

“Are you okay, Mr. Stark?”

“Fine, kid. Make sure you close the shells tight. Don’t want them to burst tomorrow.”

“Are you sure? I can grab you something if you want.”   

He straightened his back and heard his vertebrae pop. “Nah, I’ll take some Advil before bed so I can sleep.”

The kid shifted on his feet. “...from the cabinet?”

Tony stiffened. “No thanks.”

“Are you sure? I don’t mind. It’s been a while, right?”

“I would never ask you to grab me something like that. And well, kid, I’ve decided to quit. Stopping full breaks, cold turkey.” He turned to Peter and flashed him a winning smile. 

“You what?” Peter said worried. 

That’s not the reaction I expected. “Don’t sound so happy, kid,” Tony snapped.

Peter shrank back a little but continued his ministrations. “I’m happy you want to stop, but quitting cold turkey is dangerous. You could start having seizures.” 

“How do you know that?”

“I have Google, Mr. Stark. Maybe you should get some help.”  

Tony frowned and continued filling the ravioli. Who would I call? Pepper? She’s been through this too many times to take it seriously. Rhodey? He’s still trying to recover and get back to a normal life. And all Happy ever tells me is that he has too much stuff to do, so-

“Mr. Stark?” Peter said quietly.

“Don’t worry about it, Pete. I’ll be fine. Now, after we finish stuffing all of these, we need to find a safe dark place for them to rest.”

Tony caught the kid observing him for most of the night, making mental notes every time his hands would shake too much or gag because of a strong smell. After they finished prepping and cleaning the kitchen Tony and Peter looked at each other from opposite ends of the island. “Now what?”

“You know kid, I’ve been asking myself that all day. I think I need to get one of those game consoles or something. What are they on now? The Wii?”

“For one thing, we’re on the Switch. How can you not have anything to do through the day? Don’t you run SI?” Peter asked.

In a different tone of voice that’d be really insulting. “Pepper is the CEO; she takes care of most things since I’m in recovery.” 

Peter tilted his head. “Oh, okay. When do you think you’ll go back to work?”

“Eager to get rid of me?” Tony said sarcastically. “When the shareholders start calling for my head threatening a hostile company takeover and Pepper comes over to yell at me.”

“Does that happen a lot?” 

“Often enough.” Tony shrugged. “Alright kid, you pick.”

“What?”

“Pick what we’re doing for the rest of the night. I know options are limited, but I’m sure you can think of something. Just nothing SI or Avengers related.” I could probably do the lab if he really wanted to, but I hope he doesn’t choose that. Tony looked down to his shaking hands and felt his back ache. When he looked back up to Peter, the kid’s eyes were on his hands before darting up to meet Tony’s. 

“Got any good movies?” Peter asked. 

“I got any movie you want,” Tony said, relieved. 

Peter had a ten-minute debate with himself trying to decide if they were going to watch the original Star Wars movies or the ones that he missed. Eventually, he decided that they were going to start with the old movies and gradually go through all the others. “Have you seen Star Wars before? It’s like, the best movie series ever.” They both had their TV dinners in front of them, balanced precariously due to Peter’s excited bouncing.

“Yeah Pete, I saw this in the theaters when it came out at least five times. I swear Jarvis would have wrung my neck if I asked to go again.” Ah, fond memories.  

“Wow,” Peter said. 

It sounded like the same amazement he had when they made the raviolis. I never expected to feel this way. He looks up to me so much. He really does want to be just like me. 

“You are REALLY old,” the kid finished. 

“You little shit.”

The kid laughed, even through the bits of heated up corn Tony threw at him. 

Around the usual time Peter went home is when they stopped their movie marathon. They said goodnight to each other, and Tony went to his room to try to sleep. The key word there being TRIED. I’ve always had insomnia, but this is ridiculous. When he drank, he was usually out by now. And he didn’t see shadow figures lingering in the doorway and closets.

Those too.

At least they don’t look like anyone. Hallucinations are par for the course, he’s had them before and they are only the second worst part of withdrawal. The first was being shit faced even though you didn’t get shit faced. He knelt on the floor, clutching the toilet bowl and vomited until he heaved. At least the kid isn’t here to see this.

There was a soft thud beside him.   

Thought too soon. A glass of water came into his peripheral view. “Friday dim the lights please,” Peter said. “Sorry, they’re a bit too bright sometimes.”

Tony washed out his mouth and left the glass on the floor. “You don’t need to be here.”

“You don’t let me dress my wounds by myself, you don’t get to be sick by yourself.”

“Not going to budge on this?”

“Nope,” Peter said, far too cheerfully. “And I need to make sure you don’t have a seizure.”

“I’ve done this shit before. Haven’t had one yet.”

Peter sighed and jumped to sit on the vanity. “Past performance is no guarantee of future results.”

“Wow, kid, have you been listening to recordings of Pepper?” Tony asked sarcastically. He heaved more into the bowl and the little water he swallowed before came back up. I really don’t want him to see me like this. Not after how he looked at me tonight. “Friday dear, can you send a message to Dr. Cho. Tell her I’m going to need her assistance at her earliest convenience. Preferably tomorrow.”

“Message sent, Boss.”

When Tony was sure he was done, he stumbled back to his bedroom, the kid following him on the ceiling the whole time. When he woke up in the morning, the bucket and Tylenol were next to him as usual, but the windows were dimmed. The kid left him a message that he went out early to swing around the city and he’d be back for dinner.   

It was boring without the kid around, but he managed. One dry email at a time. The information was somewhat dated, so it was easy to distance himself, as long as he didn’t think about what was going on at that time, he could keep his mind on his work. Every once and a while he’d get to THE tab and he’d reread step one again before switching off. 

Out of the literal hundreds of raviolis they made, maybe fifty survived the hot water bath. God fucking dammit all that work and most of them didn’t make it. I don’t even know what we did wrong. Maybe we didn’t seal them tight enough? Or the filling was-

“Did I do something wrong? It looks like it was mostly the ones I made. Is it-is it my fault?” Peter asked.

“You don’t know that,” Tony said. “These things happen sometimes Pete, it’s not your fault.” It’s not anyone's fault. 

“Okay.”

At least he looks like he’s not going to have a panic attack or cry. “And just because they came apart doesn’t mean we can’t eat them. Think of it as a deconstruction of a ravioli.”

“Like at a fancy restaurant?”

“Yeah kid.”

“Cool,” Peter said. “Hey, do you mind if I go home early tonight? I want to take apart this VCR I found and work on some other things.”

Tony pulled spaghetti sauce out of the refrigerator to defrost it. “Sure, you can leave whenever, you’re not trapped here. Mind if I tag along? I want to see what you’ve been working on.”

“Really?”

“Of course, I want to see what you get up to when you’re not here.”

Peter didn’t answer but smiled to himself. 

“We better let Happy know. Friday, can you call him?”

The phone rang once before it went through. “What?” 

“Hey Hap, kid’s going to leave early, want to come get him?”

“No, but I guess I have to.”

“Don't be like that Mr. Happy! We made ravioli if you want some,” Peter interrupted. 

“You made ravioli?”

“Yep, we can save you some if you want,” Tony responded quickly. I don’t need to get grilled in front of the kid.  

“...sure Tones, I’ll be there in a few.”

In the meantime, Peter set the large dining room table. He put a setting at the head of the table, one two down on the left, and another four down on the right. Interesting set up the kid chose. The kid sat at the seat that was closer to Tony, and they started eating without Happy. It’s been too long since I’ve had these. It seemed as though the kid enjoyed them too because he happily scarfed down a large portion.

Peter’s head turned towards the elevator doors a few seconds before they opened. “Hey Mr. Happy,” he said as soon as he saw the man. 

“Hey kid.” Happy walked over towards them and sat at the setting on the right. “Nice decorations.”

“Thank you.” Peter smiled to himself and began eating again, but at a slower place. 

They didn’t talk much as they ate, no matter how much Tony tried to gently prompt the kid to speak. Sometimes Peter would start to answer a question, look at Happy, and then end his statement. By the end of dinner, him and Happy spoke a little about the Avengers move while the kid looked down at his folded hands at the table silent. Tony glanced at the pitch of water at the table and then back to Peter. “I’ll clean up with Happy, you can freshen up if you want.”

“Okay see you in a bit.” Peter got up and swiftly walked to the bathroom. 

That’s odd, he usually cleans his face at the table. 

When Peter came back out, he was in the suit, backpack slung over his shoulder ready to go. “You know kid, you could take the elevator like the rest of us.”

“Like people without powers? Pass. Besides, I want to work on my dive.”

Tony nodded and Peter zoomed past them. The balcony doors opened by themselves and the kid flipped over the banister and went into a swan dive. Personally, Tony didn’t see the point of the kid changing into his suit just to jump off the tower and change back out of it so Happy could drive him home. I guess I can’t be too critical of him wanting to be in his suit. 

The elevator ride down was silent, and Peter was already in the car by the time they got down. Tony sat in the back with Peter, and no one talked in the car as they drove. What the hell is going on? Are they always like this? I wonder what else I’ll notice now that I’m sober.  

They arrived at the front of the house, but Tony didn’t hear the click that signaled unlocked doors. “Hap?”

“There’s someone up there.”

“He’s a recurring customer, I’ll tell him I can’t help him tonight.”

How can they even see up there? The street wasn’t lit up very well and only one neighboring house had lights on. 

Happy nodded and unlocked the door. 

What? He’s just letting the kid out there. Hell no. Tony moved to get out of the car with him. Both the kid and Happy protested, but he got out of the car anyway. Like I’m going to let the kid go up there by himself. Since Tony was going, Happy tagged along. The man was portly, wore a sweater, was average sized, and had a ginger beard. He looked like a man who could play Santa Clause in a couple years if he didn’t have a creepy smile on his face as they approached. 

“I see you’re going to have company,” the man said, looking at Tony and Happy. 

Peter kept his head down. “Yeah. Can’t work tonight.”

“If you’re sure. I can wait until your business is done.”

“We’re going to be here for a while,” Tony said, and stepped up beside Peter. 

The man’s smile only got wider. “I understand. Your relationship comes first. I hope it’s worth it.” He laughed and left the porch area. 

The trio watched the man disappear into the darkness down the street. Peter began unlocking his door, “I don’t think you guys should stay long.”

“I’m sure we can-” Tony started.

The kid made a hand motion for silence as they walked into the house. Tony unzipped his jacket so the reactor in his chest let off minimal light. At least this thing is good for something. With the slight light he could just barely see the kid rubbing a part of the wall. Peter disappeared into the darkness and clicked something on. A lamp made of an amalgamation of fifteen flashlights illuminated the room. 

“No one else is here,” Peter said. 

If Tony didn’t have web connected to half his home, he would have missed the slight shimmering on the wall that let him know silk was there. I wonder if the whole house has web going through it. The place was just as gross as Tony remembered it being with the smell and old broken furniture. 

It was the type of thing kids would fantasize about because it was their own space away from parents and guardians. It would be nice for a fantasy, but in real life it was depressing to know the kid stayed here. No electricity and running water, no chance he can store food. It’s likely all the furniture and walls are riddled with mold not to mention lead or asbestos. Tony shivered and zipped his jacket back up.

“You guys can’t get up to the second story. I’ll grab some stuff to show you,” Peter said. The kid walked to the kitchen door on the ground until he got to the doorway and climbed on the walls.

The kid seemed happy to bring stuff down to them (mostly Tony) and show them the projects he worked on. Happy didn’t sit on the sofa or really move from his spot near the flashlight lamp, he looked slightly put off with the whole situation. Tony nodded and made comments about each of the things Peter brought to him. He’s doing exactly what I did at that age. 

Peter smiled as he waved them out the door and for the first few minutes of the car ride home, Tony and Happy were silent. “You know Hap, I see what you were talking about a few months ago.”

His friend hummed. 

“And that guy. I don’t like him. Can you look into that?’

“I’ll get on it.” After another lull in silence, Happy’s eyes flicked to him and then back to the road. “You have your work cut out for you.”

Tony’s hands still shook, and another wave of nausea passed through him as he watched the blur of streetlights. In more ways than one. “Yeah, but I always figure it out. I’m Tony Stark. Genius, billionaire, former functioning alcoholic, playboy, philanthropist.” 

Chapter Text

There was an old song from the 70’s (or was it 60’s?) that said that love was a game of give and take. Peter liked to think that was his relationship with life in general. As a kid, he didn’t have normal working lungs, but he was really smart. His parents passed away, but his Aunt and Uncle were there to take care of him. Someone who you thought was your friend and used you and overpowered you? Well, here are cool spider powers, so it (probably) won’t happen again. Now the latest one seemed to be you get to hang out with Tony Stark and basically live with him, but that loving Aunt and Uncle you got before are gone and you had to live with a predator first. 

Anyway.

Gives and takes.  

Life was full of them and lately for Peter they had to do with time. It used to be he had balance when people were most likely to stop by his house for business, school, and Spiderman. He had to do each of those things because it's not like he couldn’t go to school, he needed money, and he loved to help people. But now he spent A LOT of time with Mr. Stark which had to cut into something else. Mainly his work.

But that was okay because the benefits of staying with Mr. Stark outweighed the negatives of not being able to work as much. Peter didn’t need as much money because he was fed at the tower. He didn’t need to spend more money on clothes or blankets because he was warm at the tower. He didn’t need to spend a huge amount of time looking for parts because Mr. Stark gave them to him. 

“You still with me, kid?” Mr. Stark asked. “We can stop if you’re tired.”

Peter looked down to his disassembled web shooters. “We can keep going.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yep.” Another interesting development was that Peter didn’t see drunk Mr. Stark anymore. It was only sober Mr. Stark, who in himself acted differently than before. Interestingly, he started to act like his drunk self, and become more personable, but toned down the quick topic change and volume shifts. It was nice. 

“Alright,” Mr. Stark said as he stretched. “I think it’s time for spiderbabies to go to bed.” 

“Mrfph. Not a baby,” Peter mumbled. The cold of the lab was a slow chill that crept silently into his limbs and core. It made him tired, sluggish, and wish he could reasonably wear the suit for the heat. “And you don’t know that. I could be a species of spider that is more active at night.”

“Is that why you’re so tired at one in the afternoon?”

Peter froze. I thought it was one in the morning. “...yes.”

“It’s okay to take a break if you need one,” Mr. Stark said. 

Is it? Peter scanned his mentor’s face. He has that far off look again. Another thing that came from Mr. Stark being sober was his increasing tendency to analyze. Tony Stark didn’t have to be careful of the words he spoke, a side effect of being rich and famous, but lately he talked to Peter with purpose. “I think I’m going to take a nap. I’ll be up by dinner. Don’t work on the tidal gauge without me!”    

Mr. Stark hummed and went back to his work. 

His younger self would have exploded with the idea of having his own personal room in the (former) Avengers tower. But Peter was older now, and at first, he’d been skeptical. Even if Friday and Karen assured him that his room was like the bathroom, they were no cameras, and he could lock the door. It helped the room was mostly bare when Mr. Stark showed it to him, the only personalization being a Spiderman bedspread. Which is awesome. I wonder how many kids have these. 

Mr. Stark had told Peter to make it his own, and that’s what he did. When the door opened, Peter was met with webbing so thick, he couldn’t see though. Most of the doorway was obscured so you had to go on the floor and crawl through a tunnel to get inside. It took hours of careful weaving, many new batches of synthetic construction webs, and spools of his own, but the whole room was covered.  

Peter didn’t want to call it a nest, but it was his nest.

There were tunnels from the door to the bed, windows, and closet. The bed and the tables next to it were now elevated and had to be climbed up to. Peter went up to his sleeping platform and reached up to grab a nutrition sack. It was smart to put some of these here. The bed was pushed into the corner, against the windows so he could lay and accept the sun’s warmth. 

“Karen, can you set an alarm please?”

“Sure, alarm set for six thirty,” Karen responded. 

Peter yawned and curled into himself. He was high in the air, no one could enter the room without him feeling, the door was locked, the AI’s watched over him without vision, and Iron Man was right outside. It feels great to exist. He was warm, fed, and safe. I could almost purr. Just one more thing. “Karen? Can you do the thing?”

“Of course,” she said in a soft voice. Light instrumental came through the speakers made entirely of stringed instruments and Karen picked up where they last left off. “The tamaracks change from green to yellow when the first frosts have brought woodcock, fox sparrows, and juncos out of the north. Troops of robins are stripping the last white berries from the dogwood thickets…”

As he drifted, Peter imagined Ben as the extra warmth of the sun and May’s fingers carding through his hair.  

Like the lab, school had a particular chill to it. It was a little easier to deal with now that Mr. Stark gave him a jacket that he never took off. The bright yellow was flashy, but luckily only Flash made fun of him for it. Ned said he liked it and MJ said it made him look like a poisonous slug brightly colored to deflect predators. Peter didn’t know how to respond to that but took it as a compliment. 

“Alright class, I want some examples of metaphors or symbolization in The Great Gatsby. Your favorite one from the book,” Mr. Harrington asked.

A couple hands went up, and tentatively, Peter raised his.

Mr. Harrington’s eyes landed on Peter and a small smile appeared on his face. “Peter?”

Why did I do this? “The irony that comes from Daisey’s name. She um-is named after a flower and she-um, she didn’t go to Gatsby’s grave,” Peter responded. His answer was quiet, and he couldn’t look his teacher in the eyes, but he did respond with more than a few words. 

“Very good! Anyone else?”

Peter tuned out everyone else's answers. I can’t believe I just did that. His heart beat fast in his chest, but he couldn’t tell if it was from nervousness or excitement. Deep breaths. When he became less twitchy, he turned to Ned, who sat across the room. Ned gave him a thumbs up and MJ shot him an approving nod. 

For the rest of the class, he didn’t speak like usual. Him and Ned stayed back to wait for the rest of their peers to drain out of the room. As they were leaving, Mr. Harrington called him, “Peter, good explanation today.” 

“Thanks,” Peter responded. “Have a nice day, Mr. Harrington.” 

Ned nudged his arm gently and smiled at him. Peter didn’t even flinch at the touch or shrink away from the smile. They walked to lunch and Ned started to talk about visiting his family in Hawaii over the holidays. “We need to leave by tonight. I’m excited, but we have a layaway and it’ll take, like, fifteen hours,” Ned complained.

He hummed and felt his phone buzz in his pocket. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Ned squint and tilt his head. Peter ignored that and brought out his phone. Please don’t say anything about the phone. He’s had his new Stark phone for almost a month and luckily, his friend had yet to comment on it.  

Happy: I’m picking you up from school today. I’ll be out front. Don’t be late. I want to leave immediately. 

Me: Okay. Thank you. 

That’s odd, Happy usually doesn’t pick me up from school. It probably had something to do with it being a half day for winter break, but Peter always swung and climbed up to the tower. I hope nothing is wrong. I can’t think of anything that could be wrong. 

“You okay dude? Did you get a text from Mr. Dickenson?” Ned asked. 

“No, it’s from Hap-um no from someone else. It’s nothing,” Peter said. Forgot I can’t say anything to Ned. It was usually fine, Ned led the conversation and tried to get Peter to talk about his home life and internship, but Peter never did. And most of the time, he didn’t feel like he needed to.

But now Peter wanted someone else to talk to about his life because his life was pretty cool right now. He basically lived with Tony Stark, he was a superhero, he had spider powers, and it’d be nice to have someone other than Karen to talk to about the alien weapons. I wish I could just tell him, but I can’t risk it getting out. 

“Okay. Are you looking forward to winter break?”

“Yeah.” For once he was. He was probably going to spend most of it at the tower with Mr. Stark and going out as Spiderman. 

“That’s awesome dude. You and Mr. Dickenson planning on doing anything special?”

And just like that the good feelings were gone because of the word special. He didn’t mean it like that. Stop.   

Ned, the great friend that he was, noticed the change in Peter’s face and posture immediately. “I’m here if you want to talk about anything,” Ned said gently. 

“I know,” Peter said. Ned always said he’d listen if Peter needed to talk and Peter had yet to take him up on it. He felt anxiety bubble inside of him. I need to get out of here for a second. “Going to get lunch, be right back.” He darted to the lunch line. 

Since it was a half day, he didn’t get his government sponsored meal, so Peter had to actually pay for something. If he didn’t eat the granola bars that were stuffed at the bottom of his backpack earlier, his fangs would have flipped down by the smell of the kitchen alone. The school served a 16oz cup of just French fries that tasted as if they stole them off a McDonald’s delivery truck. It’s so worth the four dollars, they are so greasy and salty. 

He picked up the cup of fries and gave the cashier lady a friendly wave. As Peter paid, the nutrition guide that Karen made for him floated into his mind, but he batted it away. What she doesn’t know won’t get me in trouble. He began to walk to the table where Ned, and at the other end MJ, sat when he felt the tingle. 

There was about to be danger on the ground. 

Made sense because he had to walk past Flash, who had tripped him before. With great power. Flash stuck out his foot and Peter stumbled, but he did not fall. It was enough for about half the fries to spill out of the cup. I just paid for those. “Nice going, Penis. Always clumsy,” Flash laughed. 

Peter ducked into himself and skittered over to his friends. “You okay, man?”

He nodded and placed the cup of fries between them to share. At least I’m going to eat at the tower later. Ned looked between him and the fries, shrugged, and took a few for himself.

“I’ll never understand why he’s such a dick to you,” MJ said from the other end of the table.

I don’t know either. Peter shrugged and ate his partial fry cup with his friend. He let his eyes drift over to Liz and her friends sometimes, but not enough to be creepy. There’s no way someone like her would give me the time of day. 

Later when the lunch period was over Flash slipped on some of the dropped fries, which made him feel a little better. It wasn’t the best move to smile and let out a small laugh in plain view of his bully because afterwards, Peter could feel Flash’s eyes on him for the rest of the day. It was a combination of knowing Flash’s schedule and his spider sense was enough to keep him safe and unable to be cornered. 

At the end of the day, Peter snuck out of class a couple minutes early and said a quick goodbye to Ned. I just have to make it out of the hallway. The sparks from the back of his neck signaled he didn’t quite make it. Flash was at the end of the side hallway Peter had to go out of to meet Happy. There was still ten minutes of school left, the end of the hall was just lockers, and they were out of sight. I know he’s there. I know he’s waiting. But I can’t be late for Happy. 

“Where are you going, Penis? Trying to skip out on class to go to your fake internship?” Flash asked as he came out from his hiding place. 

Ignore him. Peter kept inching close to freedom. 

“Going to go out and do whatever weird stuff you do? Where’s your boyfriend then?”

Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. 

“Going to go dig around in the trash? I know you do that and so does everyone else.” Flash positioned his body, so Peter had to push himself back against the lockers. 

I can’t do this; I need to leave. Peter slid away and darted out the doors. Regular Peter Parker would definitely be able to do that. Get out from under Flash and running away is such a regular Peter Parker move. He scanned the area to find Happy’s car, knowing Flash was right behind him, Peter brought his walk up to a brisk run. 

“Parker, I’m not done with you!” His spider senses screamed DANGER as he made his way to the black nondescript car. Just before he got there, Flash grabbed his forearm, spun Peter around, and brought them closer together. “I told you I wasn’t finished with you.” 

And Peter...froze. 

Throw him off you! No, I couldn’t do that before. Look smaller! No, that makes him angrier. Run away! No, I can’t move. He’s going to hurt you like Skip did! I know. 

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Happy said from behind them. The man sounded calm, but there was an edge to his voice. 

Flash let go of Peter’s arm and took a step back. “Nothing, Peter and I were just talking.”

“Yeah? Well, it better stay just talking and I better not see or hear about anything else. Got it, punk?” Happy had his hands in his pants pockets and he cocked his head to the side. 

“Go-got it,” Flash stammered. “Have a nice break Pen-Peter.” He left as quickly as he could.

Happy turned his attention to Peter. “You okay, kid?”

Peter nodded and mindlessly walked to the car. He curled himself in the corner of the seat and ignored the way Happy’s eyes would flick to him through the rear-view mirror.     

There were no decorations in the penthouse aside from the pictures on the ceiling that Peter made and a two-foot Christmas tree on a coffee table that got knocked over every day. Peter didn’t remember Christmas with his parents, and every year he lived with his aunt and uncle, one would have to miss out to go to work. The overtime pay was too great to pass up. It was still a happy holiday, but it was never that big of a deal in the household. Sometimes they would both take off a lesser holiday and they'd celebrate that instead. Arbor day was the best. 

When they celebrated Thanksgiving, Mr. Stark ordered a lot of food, more than even Peter could eat, and it was all delicious. This meal was a little different.  

“I figured we could have a traditional Italian Christmas Eve with a feast of the seven fishes.” Mr. Stark smiled over the buffet of seafood.  

The smell of fried battered fish prevailed in the room. “Looks delicious,” Peter said with fake enthusiasm. It might look good, and maybe it tastes good, but it’s not going to feel good. Peter hated the texture of fish, even before the spider bite. He makes so much of an effort to share his family traditions with me. I need to do this for him. So, he shoveled the food into his mouth and tried not to feel it.

“You okay kid? You’re looking a little green around the gills,” Mr. Stark said.

“Terrible pun,” Peter said. He gagged and pushed away his plate. “I think I’m done.”

“Woah, are you sick? Can you get sick?” Mr. Stark pushed his own plate away and analyzed its contents. “Biagio’s usually has great food.”

“I don’t get it either. It smells good, my spider senses say it’s good, but my stupid tongue says it’s disgusting.”

“Don’t sweat it, I shouldn’t have assumed you liked seafood.” Mr. Stark chuckled to himself, “you know what they say about assumptions, right Pete?” 

Who would have guessed that Tony Stark would be into Dad jokes. “They make an ass out of you and me,” Peter finished. “I feel bad for wasting all this food.”

“I’ll be able to eat some of it.” Mr. Stark stroked his face and short beard. “Can you do the biting thing with your fangs to liquify it? It’ll get rid of the texture problem.”

Peter’s stomach twisted. “You-ah. You know about that?”

“Well, I’ve seen you bite into chickens and stuff and when I asked Karen for the dietary program she made for you something called ‘nutrition sacks’ were listed and of course I needed to know what those were.”

Peter’s cheeks heated. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“It’s weird.” 

“Look at our lives. Yeah, it’s odd, but you don’t need to be ashamed of it. Just like with the rest of your spider stuff” Mr. Stark said with a sympathetic look.

“Yeah?” 

Mr. Stark nodded. “I think it’s pretty cool. We should dissect and analyze one of those rat sacks in the lab one day.” 

“That would be pretty cool.” Peter hesitated with the next question and began to rub his arm. “What about the stuff that isn’t the spider stuff. The Peter Parker stuff?” Why did I say that? 

“What do you mean by that?”

I shouldn’t have said anything. He looks so concerned. “Nothing. Just forget I mentioned that.”

“I’m not sure what Peter Parker stuff you’re talking about because I know you like Star Wars, technology, HGTV shows, being a hero. Those are things I like and am I lame?”

“Yep.” Peter continued to rub his arm and look down to the table. “Some people at school say I’m weird and I-I had this friend. A long time ago.”

As Peter paused, he looked up to gauge his mentor’s reaction. It was hard to read his face, especially since Peter’s eyes began to get misty. I almost wish he was drunk so it would be easier to read him and he wouldn’t remember this conversation. But the emotion that showed through the most worry. 

“He used to say that I was lucky to have him because I was too weird to have anyone else. And I just. I don’t know.” Peter brought his legs up to his chest and wrapped his arms around him. “I just don’t know.”

“Well,” Mr. Stark cleared his throat. “That doesn’t sound like a very good friend.”

“He wasn’t. At all.”

“Is he the same kid that was bothering you the other day?”

Happy told him about that?! “No, Flash is just a jerk. This frie-this guy was when I was a kid. I haven’t seen him in years he-” --went to jail-- ”moved away. I’m sure you already knew. You’re Tony Stark,” Peter said with a fake laugh, “you were able to find me in the middle of New York. I’m sure you read my file.”

“I’ll be honest, when I first scouted you out, I didn’t have the time to do a real big deep dive on you. But since then, I’ve noticed some things and I went back. I’ve seen the file, but I didn’t read it and I’m not going to.”

The lull of conversation felt cold despite the high heat of the penthouse. “Thanks.”

“If it makes you feel any better, I used to be bullied all the time in school. Hard to believe, I know. Because I’m Tony Stark and all. But one thing I learned was that if I acted confident even if I didn’t feel like it, they thought I was, and they left me alone. Or wanted to be my friend.”

“That worked?”

“Like a charm. And you know what else I learned? That those people were wrong and them teasing me wasn’t my fault. I bet it wasn’t your fault either. None of it was your fault.” 

“My therapist used to say that,” Peter said absentmindedly.

Mr. Stark was calm, and his words felt absolute. “And the third thing I learned through those experiences was that Starks always come out on top. We’re better than the people who try to mock us or put us down.”

Peter tilted his head. “But I’m a Parker, not a Stark.”

“Close enough,” Mr. Stark said with a sincere smile. “Now, what are we going to do with all this fish? Gonna do the venom thing?”

“It only really works if the thing is alive and it won’t do anything to the breading and other non-protein substances.”

“How about a blender?”

As it turned out, blended fish was much better than eating it whole. When the contents exited the blender, Mr. Stark was the one who looked green in the gills. But it pretty much got rid of the texture problem. The next part of the day was spent making more Stark family ravioli. 

This time, Mr. Stark let him take the lead. It was just as fun as last time, and Peter only forgot one or two steps in the process. As far as Peter knew, the Parkers didn’t have family traditions or recipes like the Starks did, or those things died with Ben and May. He looked up to his mentor who swayed slightly to the Christmas music Friday played. 

“What’s up kid?”

“Thank you, for teaching me.” For making me feel like I have a heritage. Thank you for everything. 

Peter Parker was a good boy, at least he thought he was. He followed rules. He loved his Aunt and Uncle. He liked to read. He liked to learn. But his peers at school found him odd. They liked to run. They liked to play. They didn’t want to read the things he did. And it’s not like Peter didn’t want to run and play with them, it’s just that he had a hard time breathing when he did. And the other kids made fun of his glasses. 

But that was okay because Peter liked to read, and no one bothered him in the library. 

Until one day a teenager sat next to him. He had blonde, almost white, hair and striking blue eyes. He looked strong, and he had a kind smile. He introduced himself as Steven ‘Skip’ Wescott. They talked about the books they read. They talked about who was the best Avenger. They talked about everything.

“You’re real special Peter, a real Einstein.”

For the first time Peter had a friend. His Aunt May and Uncle Ben were both very happy that he had a friend, and even happier that they had a babysitter for him. Especially since Skip insisted on not being paid because you don’t pay a friend to hang out with you. It was like all the Parker’s prayers had been answered. Peter enjoyed having a friend. They would talk all the time. Sometimes they would play video games. Skip even taught him how to ride a bike! 

“It makes you less weird, Einstein!”

Peter was a good boy. He liked to read. He liked to go to school. He liked to play games. But not some of the games Skip made him play. But Skip was so nice. And Aunt May and Uncle Ben trusted Skip. Peter trusted Skip. Skip was his friend. His first friend. His only friend. His best friend.

“Come on Einstein, best friends play this game all the time!”

Skip told him they were best friends. Skip grabbed his arm. Skip pushed him on the bed. Skip…

Peter woke up. Peter was about to be sick. He scuttled through his webs, the wall, and onto the ceiling. He made it to the toilet just in time, otherwise he would have experienced vomiting upside down. He shook and shivered and held the toilet bowl. I thought I was done with those nightmares. 

“Peter, you are in extreme distress, I’m going to wake up Tony,” Karen said from above.

He wanted to tell her, plead with her to say no, but every time he opened his mouth he only gagged. Why can’t it stop? Will it ever stop?  Peter clutched the bowl tight enough, the porcelain had hairline cracks that he could feel. 

The door opened because Peter forgot to lock it. “Hey Pete. Not feeling well?”

“No,” Peter rasped.

Mr. Stark took one step through the doorway.  

“NO!” Peter’s head whipped around, his pupils became pinpricks, and his fangs flipped down. 

Carefully, Mr. Stark retracted his foot. “Okay.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for, Peter. Nothing is your fault. Can I come in and check on you?”

“No, I’m sorry, I can’t.”

“You never allow me to be sick by myself.”

“This is different. I’m sorry.”

“Okay.” Mr. Stark walked away. 

He left. I’m all alone. This is what I wanted, but I feel worse. Peter cried into the porcelain bowl. 

But the footsteps came back. Mr. Stark placed a full glass of water at the line that separated the bathroom from the hallway and sat down. He leaned against a wall. “I’m here.” 

It took hours, but Peter finally crawled to the glass of water and chugged it down. His mentor slept in the same spot that he sat in. He snored, his mouth was open, and he drooled a bit. For a time, Peter stood and stared down at the man. Then he gently picked him up and brought Mr. Stark back to his bedroom. Hopefully his back won’t be too messed up tomorrow. 

Peter shot some webbing into the ceiling corner and crawled inside. His consciousness ebbed and he fell into a dreamless trance only to be woken up by Mr. Stark sometime later. 

“How’d I get here,” Mr. Stark mumbled as he sat up. 

“Merry Christmas, Mr. Stark.”

His mentor jumped and scanned the room until he looked up. “Merry Christmas, Peter.”

They slept in until eleven o’clock, because at that point Peter couldn’t justify feeling gross anymore. I can still smell the throw up on me. Who lets me do anything? So, his first task on Christmas morning was to clean the bathroom and make sure he didn’t destroy the toilet. It looks okay. It’s probably fine. The second task of the day was answering all two of the Merry Christmas messages he got from his friends. As he finished up the smell of baking cinnamon drifted into the space. 

“Breakfast is ready,” Karen informed him.

“Thank you, Karen. Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas to you too.” Peter could hear the smile in her voice, even if she couldn’t perform the action visually.

“Thanks! And uh, Merry Christmas to you too Friday.”

“Oh, thank you Peter. To you as well,” Friday said formally. 

Mr. Stark pulled out another baking sheet filled with cinnamon rolls as Peter walked into the kitchen. “I felt like we needed to go with a more American style for breakfast this morning. Premade Pillsbury cinnamon rolls seemed like a good choice.”

They were a good choice, even if Karen complained that he consumed too much sugar. 

His mentor clapped his hands together, “alright, time for the best part of Christmas: presents.” Mr. Stark looked over to the small stack of dirty dishes. “And we’ll do those later.”

Peter crawled up to the ceiling to get the present he made for his mentor. I didn’t expect him to get me anything. He stuck to the bottom of the ceiling web and got ready to present his gift. It uncurled from the ceiling down to the floor. 

“Wow,” Mr. Stark said. His eyes slowly went up and down the long mass of silk. 

“I know you can dim the windows, but I like the traditional feel of curtains. This is only the first one, cause I wanted it to be done by today,” Peter explained. It took weeks of careful stitching, but the curtain would be able to fit the full length of the window. It was sheer, so it let in some light and the design was a scaled down Stark tower with the sun shining down upon it and other New York buildings in the area. 

“It’s great Peter, better than anything I could have bought.” Mr. Stark walked over and felt the material. “And they won’t disintegrate?”

“I estimate about five years of prime condition, longer if you don’t man handle them, and they are kept clean.” Peter ran his finger over a picture of clouds. 

“That’s longer than most sheer material.”

“Yep. I’m glad you like it. Like I said, I’ll get the others done soon.”

“I can’t wait, but don’t overwork yourself. Now, here are your presents.” Mr. Stark placed a medium sized box on the table and knocked over the Christmas tree. “Goddamn it,” he mumbled. 

Presents? More than one? Peter let go of the ceiling, flipped, and landed in a crouch. The box wasn’t wrapped, it was a gift box with a removable lid. Inside were ten different colored balls of yarn with a pair of silver needles at the top. Just looking at it made his hands twitch with impulse to spin the string. “Thanks Mr. Stark I can’t wait to make things!” I can’t even knit, but I can’t wait to learn!

“Glad you like it. If you really enjoy it, I figured you’d be able to learn how to crochet or sew for fun too. And here is your second present.” Mr. Stark pulled out a little deli cup filled with paper towels. 

Peter put the knitting material back in the box and gently opened the cup. Inside there was a small vial also jammed with paper towels. He gasped because at the bottom of the vial was a little bright blue spider about the size of a dime. 

“I’ll take your silence as you liking it. It’s too young to know the sex, but it is a Caribena versicolor, or an Antilles Pinktoe tarantula.” 

“They’re so small,” Peter said. He didn’t take his eyes off his new friend. 

Mr. Stark laughed, “things tend to start off that way. But by the time it’s an adult it’ll be five or six inches. Right now, it’s a juvenile, I figured you’d like another spider to grow up with.”

“I love them,” Peter said and held the glass to his chest. “I never had a pet before.” 

“First time for everything. You going to give it a name or are you going to wait to see if it is a boy or a girl?”

“If they are a girl, May. If they are a boy, Ben,” Peter said without a thought.  

“That’s great, Pete.”

For a while, he and Mr. Stark went over pet care for the new creature and set up a small enclosure for them. When they finished, Peter cradled the cage to his own webroom. You’ll be safe in here forever. I hope you’re a girl, so you’ll be able to live for a long time. He read online that as they aged, the blue would give way to a vibrant pink, which was May’s favorite color. I’m sure May would have hated to have a spider named after her but appreciate the thought. 

When Peter emerged from his room, he crawled over to the kitchen and watched Mr. Stark scrub the dishes.  

“Are you going to help or are you just going to sit up there?” 

“You’re the one who said to do the dishes later and didn’t soak them.”

“I could use your super strength to get off this crusted food, you little shit,” Mr. Stark joked. 

Peter let out a dramatic sigh and plopped down from the ceiling to help his mentor. “Thank you for the gifts. I appreciate them.”

“Right back at you, kid. And I was going to wait until little Christmas for your next gift, but I forgot you’re in school for that. So sometime next week, you’re going to pick out some new clothes.”

“But I already have clothes?”

“New clothes. And a haircut while we’re at it, it’s been bothering me for months.”

I thought I was doing a good job with my hair. “Mr. Stark, you already do so much for me. I know it’s not cheap to feed me.”

“For one thing, I am a billionaire, I think I can afford to feed a spider child. If it makes you feel any better, you do get paid for your internship, but it goes in a separate account that you can’t touch until you’re eighteen. Think of it as using that.”

Wow, I didn’t even know. I should have read through that paperwork I signed. “You still don’t need to do this.”

“Nope, but I’m going to. I know you may like your look right now, but some new clothes and a professional haircut goes a long way. You won’t be able to keep that girl you like away from you. What was her name? MJ?” Mr. Stark teased. 

“Her name is Liz, I don’t like MJ like that, she’s just my friend.” Peter paused, “oh, that was on purpose.”

Mr. Stark laughed, “look who caught on. It’s easier to feel confident when you know you look good. Definitely always worked for me and Rhodey.” His mentor had a tired smile on his face. 

I thought they were still really good friends. I wonder why I’ve never seen him. “Have you talked to Mr. Rhodes lately?” Peter asked.

“Texted him Merry Christmas this morning.”

“Have you seen him lately? It’s important to people in recovery to be visited.” It looked like Mr. Stark was going to argue with him, so Peter quickly added, “whenever I was in the hospital seeing Ned made me feel better.”

“I guess I’ll have to give him a visit then.” 

They finished up the dishes and relaxed for the rest of the day on the couch eating fish and ravioli while watching old Christmas movies. It’s different from what I had with May and Ben. In a good way. 

It was January 2nd, so it was Peter’s first day back to school after winter break. He stayed at the tower for the night, which was no surprise since he stayed at the tower for the entirety of the break. Mr. Stark got up early with him, to make breakfast and to see him off to school. “How do you feel?” Mr. Stark asked after Peter came out of his room.

Karen helped him pick out his outfit the night before, and after Peter got a haircut Mr. Stark showed him how to style his hair. He wore a simple blue plaid button-down shirt, blue jeans that fit well, with a brown belt. The belt was something he argued about with Karen, but she said that all pants that have belt loops should be worn with a belt and it was more fashionable. His hair was professionally cut short with a little bit of gel in it to give it shine and keep it in place. He still kept it relaxed with a pair of sneakers, but it looked extra nice because they were brand new, along with his backpack. 

Peter fought his mentor at first about this because the gift of clothes felt...different than other things, though he couldn’t exactly place why. It helped that Peter supposedly paid for it himself with his internship salary. He mostly got button down shirts, enough to wear a different one every day of the week and have extras, a few science pun t-shirts, jeans and khakis, and a few other odds and ends. It was the biggest change of wardrobe he’d had since back-to-school shopping with Aunt May and Uncle Ben after his body change from the spider bite. 

“I feel good. Nervous,” Peter admitted. I hope no one notices my change in outfit. 

“You don’t need to be, you look like a million dollars. Not really though, because you wouldn’t get anything named brand,” Mr. Stark joked.    

“It’d be too suspicious if I showed up to school in Prada,” Peter said with an eyeroll. 

“Perhaps. But you need one last thing,” Mr. Stark said. Out of a drawer, he pulled out a wristwatch that was decorated in red and gold. “All great men have a timepiece on their wrist. It’s not a normal watch, of course, and you’ll be able to upgrade it in time. It’s also the best Avenger’s colors, so there's that too.”

“Thor’s colors aren’t red and gold,” Peter responded. Mr. Stark looked at him with disbelief for a moment before they both began to laugh. “Thank you, Mr. Stark. For everything.”

“Don’t sweat it kid,” Mr. Stark said and straightened his own suit. “Better get going though, Happy is impatient and you don’t want to be late for school.”

They said a quick goodbye, and for the first time Peter took the elevator down to the garage instead of putting on the suit and jumping. It was different, but a good different, like a lot of things that happened to him lately. Happy waited for him in the black car, the window was down, and he turned to Peter. “Lookin’ sharp kid.” 

“Thank you Happy.” They didn’t talk beyond that, like usual, but instead of staring out the window off into space Peter fiddled with his new watch. He couldn’t help it; the watch was so cool. It could switch between holographic and regular watch mode and had a bunch of apps on it. It connected to his phone, so it was likely Karen was on it too. Sweet.  

“Have a good day kid. I’ll be here to pick you up after your practice. Don’t be late.”

“Yep, see you after class.” It feels like everyone’s eyes are on me, even if I know no one is looking. It made his stomach buzz, and it was difficult to keep his posture straight like Mr. Stark told him, but he did. 

The first person who commented on his new look was Ned. “Wow, dude, you look good. New clothes for Christmas?”

Peter nodded, “yep. What did you get? How was your break?” 

Ned spoke about his time visiting his family in Hawaii and all the festivities he partook in for the holidays. They talked until class started and Mrs. Jones made them quiet down. Physics was always one of his best subjects because it incorporated a lot of math, and it just made sense. She wrote a long equation on the white board, and Peter recognized it immediately as one of the ones he and Mr. Stark always used in the lab. 

“Does anyone know what this equation pertains to? Extra credit to anyone who does,” Mrs. Jones said. 

Without thinking about it, Peter raised his hand, and he was the only one. “It’s used for wind power.” He continued with explaining each of the variables and gave a small example of how the equation could be used.  

“Excellent job Peter, thank you. Where have you seen it before?”

“I’m working on a project for increasing the efficiency and output of wind turbines right now. I um, can’t go into it more than that though, sorry.” 

“No, no, that was very insightful, and it introduces us to our new topic in class. We’re going to spend some time learning the physics behind clean energy.”

The class went on and Peter was able to sit up straighter and pay attention easier. Looks like this section in class will be a piece of cake! Can’t wait to tell Mr. Stark about it later. They did more advanced stuff in the lab, but it was a good refresher. More than that, it felt good to talk out loud. Better be careful Parker, don’t want to get addicted.

Some people glanced at him throughout the day, but no one said anything to him. He was simultaneously glad and a little upset by it. I kinda want to be noticed. As him and Ned walked down the hall, Liz passed them. Mostly by one person. Flash definitely noticed though. Whenever the other boy was near his spider senses buzzed, but Peter didn’t let his anxiety ruin his day. During lunch, he walked a different way to the table so he wouldn’t have to walk past him. When he made it to the table, he sat closer to MJ than usual, only leaving one open seat between them. Ned followed suit and moved down the table to be next to Peter. 

MJ looked up from her book and raised a brow. “You look different.”

"In a good way?" Peter asked. 

"Like an I.T guy who just came down from a crisis. But, yeah, in a good way. Like, you’re getting better.” MJ cleared her throat and darted her eyes back down to her book. 

I can’t tell if she complimented me, making fun of me, or is embarrassed. “Thanks.” Peter slid his try over to her a bit. “Would you like to share?”

“Really?” MJ analyzed him. 

He pushed the tray closer to her and she slowly took a package of crackers and an apple. I know what it’s like to not have lunch for the day. Besides, it’s not like I’m not going to eat later. Ned looked at him strangely as well, but Peter pulled out his phone. “I got a pet for Christmas.”

“Really? Why didn’t you say anything before? Mr. Dickenson let you get a pet? That’s so cool, dude,” Ned said. 

“Yeah, I don’t know if they are a boy or a girl yet, but I have a feeling she’s a girl and I’m going to name her May,” Peter said. He swiped through his phone to a picture of Spider May in her new enclosure. She’s so cute. He handed his phone over to his friend. 

Ned’s eyes widened in alarm and he gave the phone back quickly. “Not gonna lie, I was expecting a dog or something. But she looks...nice.”

Peter pushed his phone over to MJ, so she could see the picture too. “Looks cool. What type of spider is she?”

“She’s an Antilles Pinktoe tarantula. I can’t wait until she’s big enough to take out.”  

The three of them talked for a while with Peter saying the least out of the group, but it was nice. As much as I love Ned, it’s nice to listen to someone else for a little bit. Ned and MJ debated parts of Pulp Fiction and asked for Peter’s opinion every once and awhile. The day passed by and Peter only had to get through Decathlon before he went home.

Only another hour. Peter sat at his desk with Ned to his left and Liz sat to his right. “Hey Liz.”

Liz smiled and looked him up and down. “Hey Peter, you look good.”  

“Yeah, Parker who is your sugar daddy?” Flash asked from across the room.  

A few of their teammates rolled their eyes and MJ glared at him from the front of the class. 

“I have a paid internship,” Peter responded and sat up straighter. 

“Oh, look who’s speaking today. Your balls finally drop, huh?” Flash taunted. 

“Flash, you’re not going to have balls anymore if you keep this up,” MJ warned. 

Flash leaned back in his chair. “Whatever.”

Peter shot MJ a look of thanks and everyone went back to their personal conversations. Mr. Harrington came into the room shortly after and began the session. This week’s topics were natural sciences, physics, and robotics. All things I’m good at, nice. Peter answered way more questions than he usually did, and he even answered some of the ones that took a few sentences. 

He answered enough questions to get approving glances from MJ and not to annoy anyone other than Flash. It was going so well that Mr. Harrington got out more questions and practice ran a little late. “Alright, great job today guys. If we keep this up, we will definitely make it to states and nationals this year.”

Peter pulled out his phone to let Happy know he’d be out in a few minutes. Even without my spider senses I could feel Flash staring at me. 

“Now that Parker participates, I'm sure we have a shot," Flash mumbled sarcastically. 

MJ rolled her eyes. “Can’t you just leave him alone? What’s your problem with Peter?” MJ asked, annoyed. 

“I’m just sick of Parker getting special treatment. Like, congrats you can act normal.”

“I pull my weight on the team,” Peter insisted. 

Mr. Harrington tried to interrupt, "I think we all need to-”

“Yeah? Answering one or two questions is pulling weight?”

“At least the one or two questions I answer are correct.” 

Everyone seemed at least mildly surprised at Peter’s comeback. Flash tensed, “just because you got some new clothes you think you’re good enough to be here?”

“At least I don’t need parents to pay for me to be here like you do, Eugene.” Peter stared Flash in the eyes as he said it and kept looking in his eyes after. Say something else. I dare you. 

“Woah there, everybody. Let’s settle down, we’re supposed to be a team,” Mr. Harrington said. The tension dropped and Flash broke eye contact first. "As I was saying, great work today everyone. And Peter, can you stay back a minute?" 

"Sure." Everyone packed up for the day and Ned gave him a sympathetic glance. "You don't need to wait up." 

“Good luck,” Ned said as he left. 

Everyone left and it was just Peter and Mr. Harrington in the room. His teacher leaned against his desk across the room from where Peter was. It’s okay. This is normal. Teachers ask you to stay back all the time, even if the whole school would be empty by now. Mr. Harrington is nice; he’s always been nice. He’s never given you ‘the vibe’ calm down. 

“I’m glad to see you standing up for yourself, Peter but you need to be careful about what you say back to him. It could get you in more trouble than it’s worth.”

“Okay.”

“I’m not saying you shouldn't defend yourself, just make it a bit less personal. Me and any other teacher don’t want to have to report you.” Mr. Harrington sat down at his desk and pulled out some papers. “We’ve noticed you seem to be doing better.”

“Thanks Mr. Harrington, I’ve had a real good last couple of months.”

“Nice to hear. You deserve it, you really do. Have a nice day, Peter.” Mr. Harrington went back to straightening his papers and Peter left the classroom. 

See nothing to worry about. He’s just a nice guy. His senses didn’t detect any danger, so it’s likely that Flash left with everyone else, but as he was leaving the building Peter spotted someone else. Liz was at her locker. Alone. 

Alright, you can do this. You're Spiderman, but more than that, you're a Parker. Which is close to a Stark, who always comes out on top. You can talk to a girl. Just have to walk over. His legs shook and he tightened his grip on his backpack straps. "Hey Liz." 

She looked over to him and smiled. "Hey Peter, I hope Mr. Harrington didn't scold you too much."

"No, he was pretty nice about it. He understands how Flash is." 

"Now it's Flash? Bold of you to use his actual name before," Liz laughed. 

Yes, okay. She's impressed with my display. Time to go for it. “I was wondering if you would go to the-the end of the year dance with, with me. I understand if you don’t want to, I’m not like the best and it’s kinda far away, but everyone always says girls need to pick out their dresses.” He stopped to catch his breath and clasp his hands together. Hopefully she doesn’t notice me shaking. 

“Peter, I’d love to go with you,” she said sweetly. 

Peter blinked, “woah, really? I mean! Um thanks. I appreciate it.”

Liz closed her locker and picked up her bag. “I’ll give you my splotch when I pick out my dress. I’ll text you sometime about it. See you tomorrow.”

“Yeah, see you tomorrow!” Peter said quickly and rushed outside. Oh my God, I did it! She didn’t reject me!  

“You’re late,” Happy said from the car.

He knew the older man was unhappy with him, but Peter couldn’t stop smiling. “Sor-sorry about that Happy. Practice ran over a little bit and I got caught up talking to Liz,” Peter said as he got in the car. “And-and I asked her to the dance, and she said yes! Can you believe it? Oh my God! She said yes!” 

For once, Peter could see Happy’s tough exterior melt a little bit. He didn’t quite have a smile on his face, but there was at least a hint of amusement there. “Congrats, kid.”

“Thanks. Before we go to the tower can we stop at my place real quick? I need to grab a couple things.” With the amount of times Mr. Stark called it his clubhouse, Peter almost wanted to say that too. It felt like less of a home lately, but it was still nice to have a place of his own. I really need to check my webs too. 

“We’re already late.” The amusement was gone, but he didn’t sound angry or annoyed.  

As always, the ride wasn’t a quick one, so in the meantime he texted Ned about his accomplishment and did some homework. I can’t wait to tell Mr. Stark about today! I guess he was right about the clothes thing. Peter was so caught up in thought, he didn’t even notice the car stop moving. 

“Kid?” Happy asked. 

I’ve never heard him sound like that before. “What’s wrong Happy?” Peter asked. He shifted nervously. “Why did we stop? We’re not there yet.”

“Kid,” Happy said again. 

This time, Peter looked out the window and saw that they were on his block. The meth house was right there, the neighbor’s house that always had its lights on, the same flickering streetlight. But where his house was supposed to be was a large vacant dirt lot. 

“What?” Peter jumped out of the car and ran to the property. He walked the perimeter of the dirt square. The only things left were a large dumpster that held the last remnants of his house and a large sign that read Bestman Salvage and their information. He walked up to the sign and touched it lightly.  From behind him, he heard Happy approach and he dodged the hand that was about to land on his shoulder. 

“Kid-”

“Can we just go home?” Peter asked. 

Happy didn’t say anything. They went back to the car and drove away from the lot. Peter curled into himself on the seat and held his backpack close to him. 

It’s a game of give and take. 

Chapter Text

They say the best high was the one after you’ve been sober for a while. And Tony knew it was true, he’d done it before. And now he’s done it again. The patterns on the ceiling moved and it felt like he was floating. He could hear Friday’s voice, but it didn’t quite reach him. 

How did I ever live without this?

Tony didn’t know what set it off, or even if anything set it off. Maybe it was a combination of things like sleep deprivation, worrying about Peter, stress from the Avengers, stress from SI, stress of impending space doom, anything to do with Oscorp, or the Pepper situation. But then again, maybe it was nothing at all.  

He started after he answered all his emails and Peter went on patrol for the night. There was nothing to do, his body felt anxious, and the shaking just wouldn’t stop. Just one drink. One drink. I can handle that and then I’ll stop. I just want to stop the shaking and calm down a bit. But it’s never just one drink. 

The hangover wasn’t that bad in the morning, he didn’t have to use the bucket that was carefully placed beside his bed, but he took the aspirin and water. The wakeup was a bit easier because Peter’s curtains kept the room dark. At least Friday can’t control those and let in more light. 

Ugh, how did I ever live like this? 

“Friday, count?” Tony asked as he rubbed his forehead. 

“Right now, you’re back down to zero. Before your streak was fifty-five days.”

At least I don’t need to give back a chip or anything. But good job Stark, you ruined it. And I missed the kid before he left for school today. It became a bit of a habit to drag himself out of bed to either have breakfast together or just to say goodbye. In one of the books Karen suggested to him it said it was important to keep a consistent schedule. Tony didn't remember if it was one of the readings for him or Peter, but it worked for both of them. I always enjoyed Jarvis seeing me off to school as a kid. I always wanted my Dad to do that.   

Tony froze as he was about to make coffee.

I didn’t make that connection. Nope. He pushed a few buttons on his machine and watched the liquid fill up the pot. Nope. 

Even with the pot of coffee his head still thrummed, and his body ached. Sleeping staring up at the ceiling didn’t help his back either, even with the kid carrying him to bed sometime during the night. He saw me like that again. Of course he did, who else would leave out the pills? Tony didn’t mind when the kid moved him to bed during any other scenario like when he fell asleep after checking on Peter’s wellbeing or at the lab table. It was slightly embarrassing since he was the adult, but it was no big deal. But THIS was kind of a big deal. 

I can’t do this again. 

Progress on work was slow. Even with the coffee his body and mind were not quick on the catch up, so it was almost a relief when Friday interrupted him. “I’m reminding you that Dr. Cho is coming in an hour for her weekly visit.”

“Thank you, Friday.” 

Every week Helen had come in to do a workup and make sure he wasn’t killing himself by trying to better himself. She’d do a physical and check for any signs of seizures or strokes, something Tony had begun to take more seriously once she started rattling off percentages and probabilities. 

The first time she stepped foot in the penthouse, she immediately questioned the webbing all over the place and she didn’t take new age interior design for an answer. To get her off his back, Tony said he was mentoring the young hero, Spiderman, who left him the beautiful designs on the ceiling as thanks. The pictures consisted of smiling cartoon bunnies, decorated eggs, party hats, dancing snowmen, and an anatomically correct human heart. It wasn’t a hard lie to sell because Spiderman was known as a jokester.

The elevator pinged and Dr. Helen Cho walked over to him, clipboard already in hand. “Hello Stark. Any new symptoms I should know about?”

“No, but I guess I should tell you I drank yesterday.” No use hiding it from her, she takes blood work. Or she looks at me. 

Helen took her eyes away from the clipboard and her face remained blank. “I can see that. When was your last drink?” 

“Sometime between nine and eleven, I really don’t know.”

She pulled out a needle. “Should be fine for blood work then.” Helen went through her checklist and didn’t make much small talk. She never did. Whatever conversation they did make was usually about Spiderman, not the best move on Tony’s part, but he couldn’t help it. Peter was a huge part of his life. “As your current primary provider, though I should not be, I suggest you get some help.”

“I already did my mandatory four weeks of therapy, thanks,” Tony said quickly. Like with Pepper, he had an on again off again relationship with therapy through his life. Unlike his relationship with Pepper, he hoped he’d been done with therapy for a while.  

“I’m not talking about that. I’m talking about a support system. When Spiderman isn’t here, you’re here all day by yourself.”

“That’s not true. Friday and Karen are here.”

“Two artificial intelligence systems with no physical bodies don’t count. When Spiderman isn’t here and you stop working, what do you think about?”

Drinking. Pepper. The Avengers. Drinking. Worrying if the kid is hurt. Rhodey. Drinking. How much I need a hobby. “I read a lot of self-help articles Karen sends me.”

“I said what you think, not what you distract yourself with. I know you too well to fall for your deflections.”

“You know what I’m thinking about.”

“Then say it out loud.”

“Drinking, okay? I think about drinking.” 

“And what have you been doing about that?”

God, this is like admitting it all over again. I already did it once, why do I need to do it again? “Reading, performing self-reflection, and mentoring Spiderman. He helps keep me on track.”

“Alright, but you need more than him. He has a life outside of you and you’ve referred to him as a kid before, so you can’t put a large weight on him. You need a larger support system.”

“Save it, I’ve heard the speech before.”

“Obviously, you never listened.”

“Unless you have some feasible suggestions and not just vague advice to make yourself feel better about my own situation that doesn’t actually help me in any way, can you stop?”

“Depends, are you serious about this?”

“Yeah, what the hell do you think the last fifty-five days was?” Tony asked, annoyed. 

Helen gave an unimpressed look. “Yes, fifty-five days is a very good streak, but you have been known to drop your self-improvement behavior. If you’re ready to commit, there are celebrity groups you can join dealing with substance abuse here in New York.”

Sitting down with a group of people to share our innermost struggles and potentially have them use those against me? Pass. “No, I’m not going to one of those groups, I don’t need it. I’m fine on my own.”

She raised a brow, “does losing fifty-five days of progress sound like you’re handling it?”

“Fuck you. If we’re done here, I think you should-”

“Tony, Peter is climbing up the tower and will be in shortly,” Karen interrupted. 

“Already?” Tony turned to look out a window and then down at his watch. “It’s still light out. Is something wrong?” 

“He has more homework than normal tonight,” Karen answered.

Thank God.

“And he’s been, in Peter’s words, lightly stabbed. But I wouldn’t worry, I’ve compared it to previous-”

“Fucking excuse me?! What?! Helen, do you mind staying a little bit?” Tony didn’t wait for her answer, he stood from his chair and staggered to the island and brought out the usual medical supplies.

After being in her line of work for so long Dr. Helen Cho wasn’t surprised by much, but her eyebrows raised at the sight of Spiderman flipping onto the balcony. “Hey Mr. Stark! Do you already have the-oh, hello,” Peter said. The eye slits on his suits narrowed as he looked at Hellen. “I’m Spiderman.”

Helen rose from her chair and strode over to Peter. “Hello, I’m Dr. Cho. I assume your Peter and you’re the one who has been lightly stabbed.” She held out her hand which Peter hesitantly shook. 

“How did you-Karen, you didn’t need to tell them. It’s fine I have enhanced healing.” Peter backed up and climbed the walls and into the ceiling webs. Helen’s head followed the dark shadow the kid made as he crawled to the island and then dropped down to the floor. “If you’re-you guys are busy, then I’ll just take this stuff to my nest. Room. I meant room.”

“You were stabbed Peter, and she’s a doctor, you’re staying right here,” Tony said. 

“Lightly stabbed,” Peter mumbled as he took out the hydrogen peroxide. He took off his mask and shied away from Helen’s hands.

It was true, the blade didn’t go in too deep and there was a small slash on his calf. Tony kept his customary two seat distance as Helen supervised. “Your healing does look incredible. What is the worst injury you’ve recovered from?” Helen asked. 

“I’ve given myself stitches before and Karen’s helped with a concussion.”

“Suturing is a little advanced for someone your age,” Helen commented.  

Peter nodded, “my aunt was a nurse, and I spent a lot of time in the hospital growing up. I’m really good at sewing in general.” 

“I see, I like your designs,” Helen said as her head nodded to the ceiling. 

Tony’s chest constricted at the mention of Peter sewing his own wounds. In Afghanistan, he at least had Yinsen to help him with medical problems. Calm down, he’s fine now. He’s doing great. “Yep, Pete here is real talented. He works with me in the lab and created that web fluid himself.”

Helen looked at Peter closely as he ducked his head at the praise. “He’s a real Stark, huh?” 

This time Tony’s chest constricted for a different reason. She’s not insinuating what I think she is. 

“Close enough,” Peter said. He finished dressing his wounds and put the cotton balls in his hazardous waste container. “It’ll be gone by tomorrow afternoon.” Peter turned to him and rubbed his arm. “Can I uh-go to my room. Homework, you know.”

“‘Course kid, I don’t keep you here. Dinner will be at six, so nap now if you need it.”

“Okay, see you then.” Peter shot his web and climbed back up into the white mass. The black shadow disappeared in what seemed like an instant. 

It was silent in the penthouse until Helen went back to her chart and wrote something down. “Interesting. What year was he conceived?”

“Fucking excuse me?!”

“He looks to be about fourteen.”

“He’s fifteen, and he’s not mine biologically. He’s my intern and protege.”

“Are you certain? I can run some tests to be sure,” Helen said, her eyes landed on the hazardous waste container. “I can test a couple other things too.”  

“Absolutely not. You’re not doing anything with his blood without my, Peter, and Karen’s permission.”

“Karen? The AI gets a say?” Helen asked. 

“Of course I do. And if I may make a suggestion,” Karen started. 

Oh, here we go. 

“Peter has no primary care doctor, and if you are already Tony’s then you could add another patient to your list. You already come out here for Tony every week and you sort of know his identity and some of his abilities. You are the best choice.”

Helen looked to him. “Stark?”

“If Karen thinks it’s a good idea for Peter, then I back her up on it. She always has the kid’s best interests in mind.”

“Interesting that you gave your intern an advanced AI unit and programmed her to be a maternal figure,” Helen commented. “Don’t you think that was a little risky?”

“Woah, okay. First of all, I didn’t program Karen to be like this, she did it all on her own. Second off, it’s a little unfair to compare her to Ultron,” Tony said. 

“I don’t think I’m all that different from him,” Karen said. “Because I assure you, if you do anything to harm Peter or try to use his information for your gain, I will destroy you.”

“That’s quite a threat from someone without a body,” Helen said.  

“Oh, I don’t mean physically,” Karen said cheerily, “I will destroy your career and your personal life, and I wouldn’t stop until my work was done. I don’t need to sleep, after all.” 

“Alright Karen, really living up to your name. She’s very protective,” Tony said quickly. I hope she won’t actually do anything. This is starting to be a real problem. “But the kid does need the doctor in case anything serious comes up.”

“I have a feeling I don’t have a choice,” Helen deadpanned.  

They both paused and their eyes lingered on the ceiling. “We all have choices,” Karen finally said. 

God, that did not help the vaguely ominous atmosphere. “If it makes you feel any better about the AI thing, I will destroy you too if you deliberately hurt Peter under your care.”

For the first time today, Helen’s face broke into a tired smile. “It does a little.”

As always, she left with little fanfare and at six o’clock, Peter slinked out of his room. His short hair was messy, but he was alert and checked around the penthouse. “What are you doing there, Pete?” 

“Just making sure,” Peter responded. He scuttled around on the ceiling and fixed minute parts of the webs. It was interesting to see the boy work, spinning and weaving a new picture into its frame. Something he had less time to do now that he was making Tony curtains and working on his knitting. 

Tony shrugged and flipped the pancakes he was making for dinner. If I make enough, I won’t need to make breakfast tomorrow. “So, did you like Dr. Cho?”

“She was okay, I guess.”

“Well, FYI, she’s your doctor now, via Karen’s threatening orders.”

Peter turned his head almost a full 180 degrees to face him. “Threatened? Karen you can’t threaten people, it’s rude!”

Wow, the rude part is the most concerning thing here? “I may have threatened her a little bit too.”

“Mr. Stark!”

At least he’s not moping. Tony chuckled to himself as Peter begged Friday for Helen’s number so he could apologize on their behalf. 

It was obvious that Peter has been upset for some time. Understandable, since his home had been knocked down and thrown into a dumpster along with most of his possessions. Something Tony could sympathize with considering his whole fucking house blew up once. However, one of the worst results of this was that he’d gotten quiet and skittish again. 

Briefly, Tony considered buying one of those other houses on that godforsaken block and telling the kid it can be his new playhouse, but he knew that wouldn’t help. Kids need their own space away from their parents. At least that's what one of the books said. None of his jokes worked, no movies made him happy, and the sparkle he usually had in his eyes when they were in the lab was gone. 

The last time the kid looked remotely happy was when he told Tony that he’d asked that girl he liked to the end of the year dance. He’s such an awkward mess sometimes, I can’t wait to see them together. Luckily, Tony had been planning something and he knew it would help the kid to cheer up. On a Friday night after the kid came back from Spidermanning (covered in soot, but that didn’t matter) Tony sprang it on him. “Kid, we’re getting up early tomorrow.”

Peter eyed him warily, “why?”  

Kid was right to be suspicious, they both had shit sleep schedules that weren't generally favorable to mornings. “Don’t worry about it Pete, it’s a surprise.”

There was a new mental note in Tony’s mind that was written in deep red, capital letters, and read PETER DOES NOT LIKE SURPRISES. He didn’t ask the kid if he did or didn’t, but he looked like he was about to go to a funeral, not a field trip. It didn’t get any better when Tony got into the driver's seat of a car and told Peter to take shotgun. Kid sat straight as a rail without leaning back into the seat, with his hands in his lap, and faced forward. The heat blasted in the car and Tony desperately wanted to turn on the radio to get rid of the goddamn silence, but he didn’t want to reach out to touch the knob and make it more awkward. 

Anyway.

Twenty minutes into the trip Tony broke. “We’re going to go see Rhodey.”

“Woah, really?” Peter asked excitedly. “I’m glad I wore a nice shirt. What has he been up to? Is he out of PT? Where are we meeting him?”

“Rhodey and I need to go over some Avengers stuff at the military base he’s stationed at right now. I figured my number one intern could come with me to take notes and have valuable learning experiences.” As Tony spoke, he’d glance over to gauge Peter’s reaction. Almost instantly, the kid lost his rigid posture and began excitedly speaking and waving his hands. Like a true Italian. 

“This is going to be so cool; I have to text Ned! Wait, can I text Ned about this or is this, like, super-secret Avengers mission stuff?” Peter asked. 

“You can tell him, just make sure to keep details vague.” There he is. It was like a switch had been flipped, Peter became talkative again and rambled on about some new ideas he’d been thinking of over the past few days. Karen even chimed in a couple times through the car ride to give her two cents on the ideas. To Tony, it felt like he was watching one of the Spiderman clips when the two would talk for hours. 

And Tony did listen to them for hours because that’s how long it took to drive to the base and go through some of the basic security checks. Peter became quiet when they had to search the car, and Tony had to slip an officer a fifty to not pat the kid down, but overall, it was a smooth experience. As they walked to Rhodey’s office, Peter stayed close behind him the whole time, either directly behind him or very close to his side. 

It looks like he’d jump on the ceiling given the chance. His eyes were alert, and his head would turn to doors just before they opened. At one point, another person passed them in the hallway causing Peter to brush against his arm slightly. When they went back to standing side by side, Tony noticed the kid’s hand was attached to the end of his sleeve. It’s like he wanted to hold my hand. 

Peter noticed a moment later and pulled his hand back quickly. “Sorry,” he mumbled. 

“No problem, kiddo.”

“Not a kid,” the kid muttered. 

“Okay,” Tony said with a smile. Some of the people who passed them definitely thought so, with the number of waves and friendly faces pointed at his direction. Understandable, considering Tony was over a half a foot taller than the kid, and he had an ironed buttoned up shirt on, with his hair done with gel. The pocket of the plaid shirt had even had a little notebook and pens coming out of it. 

They finally arrived at Rhodey’s office and Tony knocked. Can’t just barge in like I normally do, don’t want to scare the kid. Peter stood up straighter and adjusted his shirt. “Come in,” Rhodey’s voice said.

“Hey Platypus, miss me?” Tony said as he opened the door. 

“Tony!” Rhodey rose from his desk slowly and walked to them. “I was kinda expecting you to bail on me, nice to see you man.” He enveloped Tony in a tight hug. 

“It’s nice to see you too,” Tony said back. It was nice to see the man again, and it had been months since he’d gotten a hug. It was enough to make his throat close slightly and his eyes to prick. 

When they broke away, Rhodey’s attention went to Peter. “And who is this?”

It took a lot of willpower to not put a hand on the kid’s shoulder. “This is Peter, he’s my personal intern. Smart as a Stark, this one.” Tony stepped aside so Peter wasn’t behind him anymore. 

“Hello, Mr. Rhodes. I’m Peter, Peter Parker.” Peter stuck out his arm very straight and looked Rhodey directly in the eyes. Tony had to stifle a laugh at how proper the kid was trying to be. He’s trying so hard to be an adult, but it just makes him look more like a kid.

“Hello Peter Parker, I’m James Rhodes. You can call me James if you like, no need to be so formal.”

“Okay Mr. James.”

This time Tony couldn’t hold in his laugh. “Good luck with that Rhodey, I can’t get the kid to call me anything other than Mr. Stark and he’s been with me for months.”

“Months, eh? Is that why I haven’t seen you?” Rhodey asked lightly. 

If Tony hadn’t known Rhodey for the majority of his life, he’d assume the man wasn’t actually hurt by his distance. But his smile didn’t reach his eyes, and the tone was slightly off, and there was the obvious fact that they were family, so of course they missed each other. “Partially. I was in recovery for a while and I had to catch up on Avengers emails and SI, and the kid came along, and we’ve been working on great advancements in clean energy technology, right kid?”

“Yes, sir,” Peter affirmed. 

“At easy, soldier,” Rhodey said.

Peter looked between them for a moment, rested his back and shoulders, and returned to his spot partially behind Tony. “Come on, bud, I thought you were excited to meet the Iron Patriot.”

“Really now? Not often I have fans. Unusually, Tony hogs all the spotlight.” 

“We actually already met,” Peter said quietly, “I’m sorry about your legs. I wish I could have done something to save you.”

Rhodey looked confused for a moment until the realization hit him. “It’s fine, you couldn’t have done anything. Thanks though, Spiderman.” Then Rhodey side eyed Tony and sighed. “It’s nice to meet you face to face.”

“Can I ask-ask you some questions?” Peter asked. He pulled out his notebook and pen.

“Of course, Peter,” Rhodey walked back to his desk and gestured to the seats in front of him. 

It felt like Tony was the third wheel in a news interview. It was cute because the kid was so shy at first, but still very excited. It took about an hour and Peter scribbled everything down eagerly in his notepad and hung off Rhodey’s answers. I wonder if the kid knows he can get anyone to like him.   

“Thank you, it’s really cool to meet you, actually meet you. Ned’s going to be so jealous,” Peter said as he flipped through his notepad. 

Rhodey leaned back in his chair, “I’ve never felt so loved. Peter, I have a couple things I want to discuss with Tony. I can have an intern show you some of the cool things around here while we’re tied up.”

“Will you be okay on your own?” Tony asked Peter.

“Yeah Mr. Stark, don’t worry about me,” Peter said. 

“Not possible, kiddo. You always manage to get yourself into some kind of trouble.”

“That’s not true, trouble finds me,” Peter said with a grin. 

They sat in the office together until there was a knock on the door and a pretty young woman with blonde, almost white hair, and blue eyes. She was about the same height as Peter and looked to be an undergraduate. “You’d like to see me, sir?” she asked.

“Yes, hello Gwen. Peter here is Tony’s intern and I’d like you to show him around while we discuss some things,” Rhodey said. 

Gwen looked Peter up and down. “Yes, sir. Peter come with me.” 

Peter looked over to Tony. “Go for it kid, try to have some fun. I’ll be here if you need me.” The two left and Tony waited until they would be far enough away to start his conversation with his friend. “She too old for him?”

Rhodey laughed, “seeing as he looks like he’s twelve and she’s a sophomore at Empire State, I’d say so. Maybe in a couple years your kid would have a shot with her. Then again, you didn’t mind that gap when you were his age.”

“Well, I care now. He’s going to have to wait until he’s in college to date someone in college.”

“Date? Who are you and what have you done with Tony Stark? Then again, you took that child into the battlefield, so I guess you’re the same guy.”

Harsh, but true. “Come on Honey Bear, we were desperate. I would never bring him with us today.”

“I know, you care too much now. Tell me, when did I become an uncle? You could have told me sooner.”

“Because you’re not. Peter’s not mine by blood.”

“Interesting that you had to make that distinction.”

“I’m helping him out. I’m his mentor, superhero and otherwise. He’s a brilliant kid, I swear, he’s smarter than me.”

“You’re bragging about him as if he’s your kid. What does Pepper think of this?” Rhodey asked. 

What would Pep think of this. Would she think I’m doing a good job? “I don’t know. Haven’t really talked to her since we came back. She made sure I was alive, and then she was gone.”

The atmosphere shifted. “I’m sorry Tones.”

At least he sounds like it and he’s moved away from disappointment. “I am too.” Tony let out a deep breath. “We just started emailing back and forth. Only work-related things. She doesn’t even yell at me for not showing up to meetings anymore.”

“She’ll come around. She always does.”

“Yeah, but should she? I don’t blame her for leaving. I don’t blame her for hating me.”

Silence hung in the air.

Tony eyed the liquor tray that sat behind his friend. It was the type of fancy shit that you’d only give to other high ups or the president or something after a great success. He walked over to the tray and put a hand on the bottle. “You know, I’ve been trying to get clean. I was doing well for a while, but I drank the other day.”

Rhodey rose and stood next to him. “How long Tones?”

“I made it fifty-five whole days.” His hand smoothed up the glass and his fingers caressed the stopper. “I don’t even know why I did. I just did. Threw away all that progress.”

“But you haven’t drank since, right?” Rhodey asked. He put his hand on top of Tony’s and gently took his hand off the bottle. 

“No.” They both stared down at the tray. It was mirror coated and shined with the glow of Rhodey’s legs. Tony couldn’t help that his eyes lingered on his creation.

“I know you can’t say it, but you don’t have to. You have nothing to be sorry for. These legs are not your fault.” Rhodey’s arms wrapped around him. “If I could go back and do it over, I’d still follow you.”

Tony’s hand slipped off the bottle and moved to his brother’s back. 

“Now,” Rhodey said as he pulled away, “want to tell me about my nephew?” 

They talked about everything; they had a lot to catch up on. Rhodey didn’t have any complaints with his legs, which made Tony feel proud. He also caught Tony up on general family gossip, apparently Mama Rhodes had a new boyfriend that she was keeping under wraps. Tony talked about his work with SI and the Avengers, which Rhodey was just as outraged about the gang getting back together as he was. Of course, Tony spent time talking about Peter, his work as Spiderman, in the lab, and at school.

Sucks that the kid and I missed Christmas with the Rhodes. They talked until Tony’s phone buzzed. I hope he didn’t destroy anything.

Spiderkid: I’m not sure how much longer you’re going to be, but I assure you everything is fine.

Me: what did u do

Spiderkid: I didn’t do anything, I swear!

Me: where r u     

Spiderkid: Laboratory testing B. Don’t worry NOTHING IS WRONG.

Something is definitely wrong. At least he texted me. “Well Honey Bear, I think we need to get to lab B to see what the kids are up to.” Tony groaned as he stood up. 

“Sounds like you’ll be needing a pair of these soon,” Rhodey said as he gestured to his legs. 

“Maybe for my back. The kid is always making fun of me for it.” They walked down the hallway and into the laboratory room. Before going into the main lab, they entered a smaller observation room so they could see what was going on inside through a large window. Inside four people ran around as they tried to catch mice that scurried about. “Well, I expected worse.” At least there were no explosions. 

Two adults, who Tony assumed were the researchers, were busy trying to set up traps or come up with a plan, and eventually tried to throw a box over the tiny creatures. Gwen tried to get the mice into Peter’s direction so he could catch them with his hands, which he was successful with, even though he slowed his movements down to human speed. 

They chatted idly as they watched the show from the safety of the observation room. “So, have you talked to him about the alien weapons since the Hudson river thing?” Rhodey asked. 

“Nope. I set clear boundaries and he’s smart enough to understand how serious I am. I need to make sure to give him space so he can trust me,” Tony said.

Peter caught one of the mice in his hands. He cradled the wriggling body and held it out for Gwen to see before placing it back in its cage. 

“Careful Tones, you sound like one of those parenting books,” Rhodey joked.

“We all need to get our information from somewhere, Platypus.” 

The kid successfully caught another mouse in his hands which garnered the attention of the other two researchers. It looked like Peter was saying a bunch of jokes and quips, but he and Rhodey couldn’t hear them through the glass. Gwen seemed to be laughing a lot though. 

“I’m proud of you, you know? You’re so patient with him.” A hand fell on Tony’s shoulder. “I always knew you would make a great dad.”

“I’m not a dad.”

“Guardian. Mentor. Caregiver. Whatever you want to call it, you’re good at it. From what you’ve told me he sounds like a great kid. Smarter than almost anyone and brave. Damn, he really is-”

“Just like me, I know.” 

“I was going to say a true hero, but that works too.” Rhodey squeezed his shoulder.

The group finally caught all the mice and cheered in celebration. The two researchers shook the kid’s hands, and the kids finally left the lab and walked into the observation room. “Hey Mr. Stark, how long were you watching?” Peter asked. 

“Since there were four mice out of the cage.”

“And you didn’t come in and help us?” Gwen asked with folded arms.

Oh boy, the kid better watch out. This one reminds me of Pepper. “Figured the kid needs to clean up his own mess.”

“I was not responsible for that,” Peter defended. 

“Sure kid.”

“This is slander, besmirchment of my good name!”

Gwen spoke up, “it’s not slander if it’s true.”

Peter’s head whipped to her, “you’re not supposed to tell them that.” He faced Rhodey, “it was an accident, I swear. I didn’t mean to knock the cage over! I was just distracted.”

“Don’t worry about it, Peter. No harm done. Gwen, sorry for keeping you here so long, Tony and I lost track of time. You know how old men get.”

“Old? Speak for yourself,” Tony muttered. 

“It’s fine, I had a good time,” Gwen said. She turned to Peter, “text me if you have any more ideas on subatomic particle rearrangement, I’d like to hear them. Have a nice day.” She waved at Peter one more time before leaving. 

Oh, I am so going to grill him on that later. “Ready to go, kiddo?” Tony asked.

“Not a kid, Mr. Stark. Yeah, I’m getting hungry,” Peter said. 

“Well, you heard the kid, Honey Bear. Gotta go to a McDonald to keep his ravenous hunger under control. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

Rhodey walked them out and gave Tony one last parting hug. “I’ll be expecting that phone call. And kid, I know my number is in your contact list, don’t hesitate to call me if you need to.”

“Okay Mr. James, I will,” Peter said.

The security out of the base was much easier the second time around and they were back on the road by a reasonable time. The heat blared in the car bringing it up to a nice eighty degrees. The visit went well, Peter was still happy, no telling how he’d feel when they got back to the penthouse, but right now he was good. Now was the best time to talk. Ugh, talking. About feelings. Come on Stark, you saved the world multiple times, you can talk to your kid about your alcoholism. 

“So, you have a good time with that girl? Gwen, right?” Tony asked. Goddamnit. 

Peter didn’t look up from his phone. “Yeah, she’s really cool.”

“Are you texting her now?”

“No, I’m texting Ned. I asked Mr. Rhodes some questions for him and he’s freaking out.”

Wait, the kid never asked me any of those questions like he did with Rhodey. “I guess my popularity is dipping, kids these days are no longer excited for Iron Man.”

“I’m always excited to talk to you, but Ned doesn’t know I know you. Everyone thinks I’m a regular intern.”

“Why?” Maybe I should start going back out in the public, I’ve never been so out of the circle of interest before.  

“It might draw too much attention to me. No one would believe me anyway, you’re too famous.”

Never mind, still got it. “You can tell your friend about me, I’m sure it’s fine. Anyway, back to the previous topic, you got a thing for that girl?”

“Gwen? No, she’s five years older than me. It’d be weird if she’s into me too, especially since she has a boyfriend. His name is Andrew, and they’re studying at school together,” Peter said. 

“Shame. Yeah, it would be a little weird, but there's nothing wrong with having a crush.”

Peter hummed and continued tapping away on his phone. “I also kinda have Liz right now.”

“And she’s about to go to college. Into the older girls, Pete?” Tony teased. 

The kid’s texting slowed down, and he shifted in his seat. “I guess.”

Shit. Stark you idiot, you can’t tease him about age gaps. Fuck. “Nothing wrong with that, Pepper is a couple years older than me,” Tony said. “And it’s good to know someone in college. You might want to go to Empire State one day, even if I think you should go to MIT, like me.” 

“That’d be nice, but I think I’m going to have to get a job, wait two years, and go to Queensborough.”

“Your internship is already paid and once you put that down on a resume, you’ll definitely get attention. Tony Stark’s personal intern is a career booster. Especially since your name will be on the next generation of clean technology. And you need to start filing for patents for your web technology and some of your other inventions.”

“Wow, I never thought about that. That’s so cool, Karen, take notes please.” Peter went on about the different uses his webs could have from medical to clothing purposes. 

Thank God, I got out of that one. But Tony still didn’t accomplish his mission of having THE conversation he wanted to have with the kid. For a while, he listened to Peter and Karen talk back and forth again and laughed at some of their banter. It was relaxing. Eventually, there was a lull in conversation and Peter began to fiddle with his watch and phone. Alright Stark, you have to do this now. “Kid, Pete, I want to talk to you about what happened,” Tony said in a serious tone.

Peter stiffened, but kept his natural happy tone, “I’m really sorry about the mice, I really didn’t mean to.”

“No, I don’t care about the mice, that was funny to watch. I’m sorry about what happened before and it won’t happen again.”

Now the kid looked confused. “What? Yell at me?”

“Yell at you? No, the other day when I drank. It won’t happen again.” What did he think he was in trouble for? Should I worry about this?

“Yeah, okay,” Peter said nonchalantly and went back to his watch and phone.  

“Hey, no, pay attention. I’m trying to have an adult conversation.”

“Oh, now I’m an adult?” Peter joked lightly.

“I’M having an adult conversation. Look, this is hard enough as it is. I’m trying and I failed, okay?”

“You didn’t fail. If you failed, you’d be dead, right?” Peter asked earnestly. “I guess you or I could be dead right now and living in an in between. Or in a simulation like in that old movie, The Matrix.”

“Old? The Matrix came out in 1999.”

“Yeah, before I was born. Old.” Peter’s smile dropped slightly, “my uncle used to smoke. He tried for years to quit, he got it down, but there was always a pack of Marlboro in our freezer. Every so often, he’d smoke. Every so often, you’ll drink. I need to accept that.”

“No, you don’t.”

“I think you do too.”

“I won’t. I'm going to beat this.”

"Mr. Stark, I don't think that's the right mentality to have for this type-"

"Pete, I'm going to do this. I'm going to get over it." I will get over it. “Friday, can you contact Dr. Cho for me?”

“Yes, Stark?” Helen answered immediately. 

“Get me into that fucking help group.” I’m not going to accept it. I'm not going to fail again. He'll never see me like that again. If that is what it takes, I’m going to fucking do it. 

Peter looked up to him with surprise. 

“I’ll send you the information on the group, the first session is tomorrow. Good luck.” Helen hung up.

“Goddamnit.” 

“Good job, Boss,” Friday complemented. 

“Yeah Mr. Stark!” Peter said with a large smile. The kid was definitely happier than he’d been at the start of the day, at the very least 

On his way home, Tony picked up some Thai food from the place Peter loved. He came up the elevator with at least five bags of food in each arm. I feel like a woman in an 80’s movie that just went on a shopping spree. Right outside the elevator doors, Peter hung upside down from the ceiling. “How was it?” Peter asked. 

“The wait for the food wasn’t too bad, kinda late, you know?” Tony said walking past him. 

“Mr. Stark,” Peter whined, “that’s not what I was talking about.”

“It was fine. Just a lot of old people sitting around talking.” A bit of an oversimplification, but it was true. It was different from a typical AA meeting, mostly because he knew, or at least heard of, everyone there. What was a surprise was that most people there, no matter the celebrity status were okay with keeping quiet to the public about being there. Apparently, Helen had also done him a favor and put him in a group of people who were mostly over the first hurdle. He was the newest recovery in the group, being recently sober and having to deal with a bump in the road, as some of them called it. 

When the Avengers were together, Shield forced them to do a group bonding exercise where they would all sit down in a circle and talk about themselves for a little while. It was nothing any of them took seriously, Tony himself usually talked about a project he worked on in enough scientific detail that no one would understand him.

They didn’t do the 90 meetings in 90 days thing, thank God. And speaking of God, there was a lot less mention of the big man. Tony was a good Catholic boy just as his mother raised, but there was a reason he never went to church. It was a very relaxed atmosphere that made him feel comfortable. It was kind of nice to hear what everyone else was doing in their lives. Tobey, Tony’s sponsor, was over a year sober and was expecting a little girl. He went over some of the new changes in his and wife’s life along with some stories about work as a professor. They exchanged information after the meeting, he seemed like a nice man. 

They didn’t even demand that he talk, after Tony introduced himself and said how long he’d been sober for, he didn’t speak for the rest of the meeting. Since he didn’t talk, it forced him to listen. Some people spoke about their journey, glancing at him as they did so, and they spoke about who they were sober for. People listed off friends, family, spouse, children, and most importantly: themselves. Because they wanted to have a better, healthier life, so they could keep on living. An interesting concept for a man who had no self-preservation skills, according to Pepper. But Tony knew he wanted to be better for Pepper, himself, Happy, Rhodey, and Peter.     

He left with a 24-hour chip, which he held up for Peter to see. “It’s a little late, but they said they’d put down the date I stopped drinking, so it’s more of a week and a half chip.” It would almost be a three-month chip if I didn’t-

“I’m so proud of you, Mr. Stark,” Peter said from his upside-down position. 

Tony’s heart stopped (metaphorically). “Thanks, Pete.”

It was a hard day today. Tony was catching up on all the work and Avengers shit he missed while in recovery and events were starting to get recent. To top it all off Peter had to go visit his foster father for a couple hours because his CPS agent was doing a home check. Neither of them was particularly happy about it, but it had to be done in order to keep his cover.

Periodically, Tony would check his phone to see if Peter sent him a message saying he’d be home soon (he hadn’t) and his eyes would flick over to the still full liquor cabinet. “Friday, can you call Tobey?” Tony asked. 

“Hello, Tony, what’s going on?” Tobey’s voice came through. 

“Nothing much, just calling to see if the number worked,” Tony lied. 

Tobey hummed, “okay. Anything you want to talk about?”

Why are all the people I talk to recently so goddamn understanding? Him and Peter, ugh, make me feel like a shit bag for getting away with it. “Well, I’m home alone since Peter is out right now,” Tony started.

“Oh, Peter?” Tobey asked, “yeah, it’s harder for me to keep straight when Mary Jane is gone for long periods of time. Though nowadays we’re together all the time now that the due date is getting closer.”

“Woah, woah, woah, back up, Peter’s my kid not my partner,” Tony said when his mind caught up with what Tobey said. 

“Sorry about that, didn’t know you had a child! Got any advice for a first-time dad?” Toby asked playfully. 

“Don’t do it,” Tony joked.

The other man laughed, “deeds already done, can’t do anything about that.”

“I guess the best advice I can give is to be patient,” Tony said honestly. “There’s not much advice I can give, I just became a parent as well actually. He’s a teenager, fifteen.” 

“Must be a handful then.”

They talked back and forth for about an hour, mostly about kids. Tony didn’t know why the first thing he spoke about was Peter especially since it was imperative to the kid’s safety that no one knew about him, but it was so easy to talk about him. He didn’t go into the Spiderman stuff of course, but he went into how smart the kid was and how well he was doing in school. Tobey went into all the preparations they were doing for the baby like making the nursery. They spoke until Mary Jane called for Tobey’s help in the kitchen.

“I need to get going, my princess needs me,” Tobey said. 

“Yeah, I should probably see if Peter needs me to pick him up. The chat was nice,” Tony said with a cough. 

“It’s what I’m here for! Call again if you need me.”

Tony checked his phone. No new messages from Peter. I hope he’s doing okay. He fidgeted for a moment before picking up his phone.

Me: how r u doing kid almost done

Spiderkid: I’m doing fine, it’s just boring. Should be back in an hour. Thank you for the text.

Me: no problem kiddo just 

Me: text me when you leave   

Me: and dont go out spidermanning ill have food by then

Spiderkid: Okay, see you soon. 

Spiderkid: And I’m not a kid.

I hate that he’s one of those people who use periods in texting, who does he think he is, Pepper? Tony put in a large order at that sandwich place Peter liked in Queens and paid them double to have them deliver it. Got to love what money can do. 

“Tony, I have something I wish to discuss with you,” Karen said politely. 

“What’s wrong with the kid? What happened?” Tony asked quickly. Why didn’t he tell me something was wrong? Oh God, I need to get into a suit.

“Nothing that requires your immediate concern. I just...put up a new tab in the que that I think you should look at.”

“Don’t phrase things like that, I have a heart condition,” Tony scolded lightly. I don’t think I’ve ever heard her sound so nervous. He projected the holo screen to see the website for the Office of Children and Family Services on the page for the requirements for becoming a foster parent. “Karen…”

“As you know, my purpose is to make sure Peter is safe and recently I have been concerned for his well-being when he goes to visit his current foster father.”

Woah, red light. “What’s going on? Does he just not like the guy? Or is he doing something to hurt Peter? I knew a guy named Dick Dickenson couldn’t be trusted.” Looks like I’m going to have to put on a suit after all.

Karen mechanically sighed, “Peter does not talk about his time living with Dick, so I can’t tell you any details. But I think for his well-being, well, it’s your choice.”

“No person in their right mind would trust me with a kid.”

“I trust you.”

But you’re not a person. “Thanks Karen. I still don’t think they would allow me to have a child. I’m a mess.” Quickly, he scanned through the requirements. It looked like he met at least half of them, being sound in physicality and mind, might be a little doubtful. And he did have a slight criminal record from his younger years but it’s not like he needed any of the allowances they provided.  

“Your money can’t help you?” Karen asked.

Tony swallowed. “I’m sure it could.”

“There's nothing that says you even need to use the certificate once you have it.”

“Yeah.”

“And it’s not a quick process, it could take months.”

“Right.”

“Because as of right now you are harboring a minor and have no legal claim to him, so he could be moved at any time.”

Goddamnit Karen. “Your logic and manipulation of emotions are impeccable, you know that?”   

“Thank you.”

Someone sounds proud of herself. I bet if she had a face she’d be smirking. Tony spent some time exploring the webpage and learning what he had to do to get a foster parenting certificate. The more he read about the requirements and recommendations the better he felt about it. I mean, the kid is already basically living here, and I haven’t killed him. I think he likes it here, and I like him being here. I bet I could do this. His phone buzzed with a message from Peter. 

Spiderkid: I’m leaving in a minute. I’ll be home soon.

Me: k kiddo c u in a bit

Spiderkid: Not a kid!

Spiderkid: And stop texting like that. You’re not twelve years old.

Me: unlike u

Spiderkid: >:o

Spiderkid: I’m leaving now.

Tony snorted at the kid’s message and smiled to himself. Yeah, I could do it. 

Chapter Text

One of the hardest lessons Peter had to learn was that there are things in this world you never get over. Some things will be with you forever like an assault or the death of a family member. Sure, things get better, the pain and the memory fades. But they don’t go away. It’s always there, chipping away at you. It chipped away at Mr. Stark too, but Mr. Stark seemed more like a block of marble that was being made into a statue. With each strike of fate’s chisel, the form in the block became clearer, sculpting the marble into its best and final form. 

It felt like the chisel was always on Peter too, it just hit all the wrong areas. Always there chipping away at his mind and heart, with each blow crushing pieces into dust. The chisel seemed to make Mr. Stark something that would be on display in a museum, so everyone could admire it and dream that one day they’d be just as inspiring. Peter felt like it made him into slag. Just a pile of rubbish rock that was leftover in a quarry.  

But wasn’t slag used to make concrete?

“Peter, you should really get some sleep,” Karen said from above. “You have school in four hours and Academic Decathlon practice today.” 

“I know, I just can’t, and I don’t know why,” Peter responded. He flipped over in his bed again and curled into his Spiderman blanket. His body felt...weird. Like everything and nothing was touching him, and he was super aware of proximity. 

And for whatever reason, he couldn’t get some memories of the trip he and Mr. Stark took to the military base out of his head. When he accidentally stuck himself to Mr. Stark, it felt nice to have the comfort of his mentor for a moment. Then there was the memory of Mr. Stark and Mr. James hugging. It looked like a nice hug. The type of hug family would give each other to help soothe wounds. 

I don’t really remember the last time I had a hug. It was probably someone at May’s funeral, but Peter was so much of a wreck at the time he didn’t know. After the whole airport fiasco, Mr. Stark had reached over him to open the car door, and Peter thought it was a hug. It scared him so much, he pushed Mr. Stark away with enough force to throw him to the other side of the car. 

When Peter apologized profusely, Mr. Stark waved it off and said, “it’s fine and just so you know, we’re not there yet.”

I kind of wish we were there. 

“You show no signs of nightmares, but you still have signs of discomfort. Would you like me to read to you?” Karen asked gently. 

Peter sat up and ran his fingers through his hair. “No thank you. I think I’ll read for a little bit.” Mr. Stark had given him a Stark Pad, one for official internship stuff and another for his personal use. Might as well read more about Spider May, and on spiders in general. He looked over to the little enclosure. I can’t wait until she’s big enough to hold. We’ll be able to...I’m not sure, but I know it’ll be fun. 

He placed the tablet down and walked over to his pet. “Hello May,” Peter said and stroked her enclosure. Her species was known to be shy, like most tree dwelling tarantulas, but she seemed different. Every day, Peter would come into the room and lightly stroke her container to let her know he was there, and she’d come out of her funnel shaped web and stare at him for a while. Peter couldn’t find anything online that said they did that, but he assumed she was waiting for food. He fed her a cricket twice a week and he looked forward to diversifying her food when she got older.

May came out and stared up at him. 

“Yeah, you look really cute.” He opened the front of her enclosure to refill her water dish. She needed it filled a lot to maintain humidity. Peter got out his water bottle and pipette, reached in, and that’s when May jumped on his hand. He sat down on the floor and had his other hand under her protectively. She walked up his forearm before stopping and staring back up at him. Peter could feel each one of her feet on his arm and the tingling feeling around his body stopped and concentrated to where May was. 

It felt nice to be touched. 

I wonder if this is concerning. It took every fiber of his body to not reach out and stroke her abdomen, but she’s so small and her hairs could fall off and irritate the skin. Gently, he guided her back to her enclosure, which she jumped back into. He went back up to his bed and turned on his Stark Pad. 

The antilles pinktoe tarantula has been observed to be a social species in the wild, but not in captivity. Most tarantulas, and spiders, are not social creatures, they mainly come into contact during mating. To catch their prey, they exhibit remarkable tactile senses, meaning the sense of touch. I think something might be concerning here. 

Peter huffed and tried to get comfortable, but the feeling was back again. This time he searched human interactions. This is stupid. I should stop. But he kept looking up things about touching, and not in the sexual way, just regular touch. Spiders may not need it, but humans seem too. 

“Karen, how spider do you think I am?” Peter asked the ceiling. 

“I don’t know, and it’s likely we wouldn’t even know with a blood sample. Especially since it’s likely you were exposed to various species of spiders since you exhibit behaviors and traits from many different species.”

“Great, let’s hope that I don’t die one year after reaching maturity,” Peter said and fell back into bed. 

Karen laughed, “we can only hope.” 

Her mechanical laugh was nice to listen to, it encompassed him. I wish she could be here with me. Peter rolled in his blanket, so he became a spider burrito. It almost feels like a hug. This time it only took minutes for him to fall asleep.

It was no secret that both Peter and Mr. Stark’s sleep schedules were out of whack. Mr. Stark had regular insomnia on top of his withdrawal induced insomnia on top of nightmares and Peter was usually out late as Spiderman and had the occasional nightmare. Peter’s body was tired and the bags under his eyes matched his mentor’s, but he still followed the man’s every move as he flipped pancakes. If there was one thing Peter was always aware of it was movement. 

Peter sat at the island counter and Mr. Stark was six feet away at the griddle which was somehow too far and too close. “So kid, are you going to tell me why you’ve been staring at me all morning in silence?” Mr. Stark asked, still facing the pancakes. 

“No,” Peter said. 

Mr. Stark placed a large stack of pancakes in front of him, his arm was inches away from Peter and his body was less than a foot. Like always, his mentor left his personal space quickly and didn’t linger. Initially, it made Peter feel safe, but now it made him anxious as he followed his mentor’s hands as he got out utensils. 

“Okay, it’s okay if you don’t want to tell me anything.”

He sounds so sincere, but I feel like I need to tell him something. “I think I’m going to tell Ned about my spider powers and the internship,” Peter blurted out. NOOOOOOOOOOOOO. You should have just said that you want a hug, idiot! He took a quick deep breath and braced himself for Mr. Stark to yell at him for having such a bad idea. 

“Well, okay,” Mr. Stark said. “Do you need more syrup?”

“You’re okay with Ned knowing?” Peter asked. 

“If you think it’s a good idea, then I trust you.”

Something ached in Peter’s chest and it made him feel warm. “Really?”

“Yeah. You are my personal inter after all, I know you’re smart.” Mr. Stark moved the syrup closer to Peter’s plate and when he pulled his hand back, his arm lingered in the air for just a moment too long. 

He was going to put his hand on my shoulder but didn’t. They returned to eating breakfast and Mr. Stark stayed his customary two seat distance. Ever since Mr. Stark stopped drinking, he’d always either make them breakfast or stumble out of his room to wish Peter a good day at school. It was something that he never had before because May and Ben always worked odd hours. It made him feel normal, like the other kids at school.

There were plenty of times Peter rejected physical contact from everyone in his life, so he didn’t blame Mr. Stark for pulling away. How do I let people know after so long that I kind of want it now? 

Peter was hyper aware, even more so than usual. After the spider bite it was like going from regular to HD, but today it was like being in a 4D Imax theater. Couples held hands in the hallway, friends hugged, high fives, shoulder taps, small kisses, he was aware of it all. Every time someone brushed past him, Peter wanted to lean into the touch. It made him antsy and jumpy all throughout the day. This is officially concerning. 

Ned gave him multiple worried faces and asked him if he was okay way too many times. MJ commented that he was a full chapter in her 'People in Crisis' sketch book, which was her attempt at showing concern. It was so nice to know that they cared, it made him long for a hug from his friends. 

"My parents got me a Lego death star, do you want to come over and build it with me sometime?" Ned asked. 

"Okay. Want to do it today?" Peter asked back. 

His friend's eyes widened. "Really? Yeah dude. Think Mr. Dickenson will let you out on a school night?"

It had been a longer time than Peter would like to admit since he and Ned had really hung out.  “Definitely.” Peter pulled out his phone.

Me: Hey, is it okay if I go to Ned’s house? I’ll be back tonight after Spidermanning.

Mr. Mentor: only u could make urself into a verb

Mr. Mentor: sure make sure ur homewrk is done b4 u go out

Mr. Mentor: if im not up when u get in eat

Me: Okay. See you tonight.

Mr. Mentor: call if u need anything kid

Peter resisted the urge to send a message back saying he wasn’t a kid and to comment on Mr. Stark’s texting style. Sometimes it’s hard to even figure out what he’s trying to tell me. I wonder if he does it on purpose now just because he knows I don’t like it. He turned back to his friend, “he said it’s fine.”

“Sweet, do you need to go home for anything first?”

“Nope.”

They were about to leave the school when Mr. Harrington called out to them. “Peter, I’m glad I was able to catch you before you leave today. Can we chat for a minute?”

He doesn’t sound angry, but I don’t know why he would need to talk to me. “We were just about to leave,” Peter said.

“It’ll only take a minute, but I wanted to tell you that you can come on the Decathlon field trip to D.C this weekend if you want.”

“What? But I don’t have the money or a permission slip for that.”

“Me and a few other teachers want to give back,” Mr. Harrington smiled, and it reached his eyes. He pulled out a piece of paper and handed it to Peter.

“Wow, thanks Mr. Harrington,” Peter said. “This means a lot.”

“Just get the permission slip signed. Congratulations Peter, you deserve it.” Then he said goodbye to his students and went back down the hall. 

As with most of his time spent with Ned, his friend did most of the talking and Peter nodded along. They were both in a good mood knowing that Peter would join him on the big field trip. When they got to Ned’s house, they finished their homework quickly. It really has been too long since we’ve hung out. I’m surprised he puts up with me. 

“Ready to finish the Death Star?” Ned asked with a huge smile. 

“Yep,” Peter answered back with his own smaller one. Ned talked more as they put together the set piece by piece and like in school, Peter was hyper aware of his friend’s proximity. How close Ned would get to him and every brush of their hands. It was strictly in a friendly way, and Peter wanted more. I need to stop being so weird. 

But the thoughts and feelings were still there, and he knew why. So what if I haven’t been touched in a friendly way in forever. It doesn’t matter. Right now, it’s nice that I’m hanging out with him. Every bit they put together made the model more and more complete. Maybe I should ask Mr. Stark one day if we could get a Lego set and put it together. It’d be nice to know what the finished product looked like for once. No, that’d be stupid. Why would he bother with Legos when he had a whole lab?

“I’m glad you came to hang out today,” Ned said as he continued building, “I was starting to miss you. Between the internship and Mr. Dickenson, we really don’t see each other outside of school anymore.” 

Perfect timing. “Yeah, I missed you too. A lot. And I actually have some news ab-about the internship.”

“Really? No way! Tell me everything!” 

In his excitement, Ned knocked over the Death Star, but Peter caught it with his quick reflexes. “I got the okay from Mr. Stark to tell you what I’ve been doing. But I think it’s better if I just show you.”

Peter got up, took a deep breath, and placed a hand on the wall. Then the other hand touched the wall along with his feet. Slowly, he crawled up and onto the ceiling and looked down at his friend’s stunned expression. He gently lowered himself down to the floor with a soft thud and then went over to his backpack and pulled out the Spiderman suit and web shooters. He held them out to Ned, “this is what my internship is all about.”

“Woah, you make the stuff for the Spiderman. From YouTube,” Ned said in awe. 

“What? No, Ned. I am the Spiderman.” It feels fantastic to finally say it out loud. 

“That’s even cooler!” Ned stood up quickly and knocked over the Death Star. Some of it broke, but his friend didn’t seem to mind. “Do you make all your stuff, or did Iron Man make it for you? How did you climb without wearing it?”

“Well, Mr. Stark made this suit, and we periodically upgrade it. But the climbing on the walls is all me. Remember that trip to Oscorp?” 

It took a better part of an hour to explain his origin story and the fiasco at the airport in Germany, edited to leave out the homelessness, but Ned was a good listener. He just wasn’t as good at putting things together. “So, you can stick to walls, right? Can you do other spider things like shoot venom? Do you make your own webs? Can you talk to spiders? That’s why you got that pet tarantula, right?”

“I do have venom, but I can’t shoot it. I make my own webs, but the ones I use for Spiderman I make in chemistry. I can’t talk to spiders, Mr. Stark got me May as a pet for Christmas,” Peter answered quickly. At least I don’t think I can talk to spiders, maybe Spider May is too young to speak. Probably shouldn’t worry about it now. 

“This is so crazy! You have powers, you fought the Avengers, you’re a literal superhero! Does this mean you’re part of the Avengers?” 

“I don’t think so. Mr. Stark hasn’t really brought it up,” Peter said.                                 

“Yeah, but that means you could be! This is so cool! I know an Avenger!”

Peter laughed a bit and then looked away. “I guess? I think I’m more in the reserves. I was actually going to go out Spidermanning tonight if you wanted to watch.”

“How?!”

When going over everything, Peter only mentioned Karen in passing and Ned didn’t comment on her. Peter held up his arm so the watch, “time to say hello.”

“Hello Ned Leeds, it’s nice to finally talk to you. I am Karen Stark.”

“Stark?” Peter asked and looked down at her.

“He is my creator, but I could go by Parker if you prefer,” Karen said.

“Nah, they’re close enough, right?”

“Indeed,” Karen agreed. “As it stands, it is very nice to meet you Ned. If you so wish, I can allow you to watch Peter’s Spiderman activity tonight by connecting to your computer.”

Ned looked between Peter and his watch. “This is unbelievable.” They spent the time between then and dinner making Karen compatible with Ned’s equipment. After they had dinner with Ned’s family--a lovely meatloaf--Peter left their apartment and put on his Spiderman suit. “Everything coming in good?”

“Yeah dude, I can see everything you do. It’s kinda weird. Like being on a rollercoaster, but not feeling the wind,” Ned commented in his ear. 

“Mr. Stark said something like that, but he also says that watching me swing around makes him sick.” Peter landed on top of a brick building and surveyed the area. “Alright Ned, TLDR version, I’m going out looking for any signs of the alien weapons that are being sold around Queens and they have something to do with a man in a giant metal bird suit that almost killed me.”

Ned didn’t answer for a minute. “I don’t know how many times I can say how cool your life is. What does Iron Man think of this?” 

“Mr. Stark told me to stay away from the alien weapons,” Peter said. He jumped and swung to another rooftop. At least I can stop and get an Italian hotdog at that place during my search. 

“You’re disobeying Iron Man?!” Ned shouted in disbelief. 

“Kinda. That’s why I need you to be my guy in the chair. I need help figuring this out. There has been a small trickle of weapons for months, but something big has to be coming soon. Those things can damage me, they shouldn’t be on the streets.”

“Makes sense.” Ned typed on his keyboard. “What do you need me to do? Rewrite Karen’s code to make sure she doesn’t tell Iron Man you’re doing this?”

Rewrite her what?! “Hey, hold on there, first off Ned, you don’t rewrite a lady’s code without asking her permission first. Secondly, we need to figure out where they’re going next so we can stop them. And Karen won’t sell us out, right?” The building finally came back into view. Maybe I’ll get a hotdog after this. 

“As long as you are not in immediate danger, I won’t tell,” Karen said, “all teenagers hide things from their parents. From what I’ve read, it’s a healthy behavior.”

“I wouldn’t say parent,” Peter said quickly. 

“I would. He has filled many parental roles-”

“No one wants a teenager that isn’t theirs, and anyone who does you should be wary of,” Peter said harshly. With a THWIP and a strong tug of his wrist Peter was on top of the abandoned gas station where the meet up with Aaron Davis and the weapon sellers were weeks ago. I need to remember that. As much as I love being around Mr. Stark and he seems to like being around me, he’s not my dad. 

“I’ve never gotten the indication that he doesn’t want you around, have you?” Karen asked. 

“No.”

“And you enjoy being around him, right?”

“Yeah, but enjoying being around someone doesn’t mean they are family.”

“Ummm, guys…?” Ned asked. 

Oh shoot. He should not have heard all that. I can hear the uncomfortableness in his voice. “Sorry Ned, usually it’s just me and Karen out here. Look at this.” It was wedged between the metal slats of the roof was a piece of weaponry, probably the one that shocked him off the roof. It looks to be out of power.

“Is that an alien weapon?” Ned asked in his ear.

“You bet. It’s been sitting up here for a couple months. If we tear it open, we could use it.” Peter tossed the gun back and forth from hand to hand. 

“How? I don’t really want to mess with alien weapons.”

“If we get lucky, maybe a tracker. Then we could use it to find other weapons, get other criminals, and lead us directly to the guys responsible for these."

"And how will we do that?"

"No idea."

Peter examined the weapon for a bit before sticking it to his back and swing back to Ned's house. They decided that he would keep it at his house and bring it to school the next day, so they had better tools to work with. 

“I’m going to head to bed, what time do you usually stay out?” Ned asked.

“Either when I feel like I’m done for the day or Karen yells at me,” Peter answered. 

“Since it’s a school night, it is likely when I yell at him,” Karen said. 

“You wound me, Karen Stark. I am a perfectly healthy teenage boy with an amazing sleep schedule.”

Karen scoffed, “I would say ‘in your dreams’ but then you’d have to sleep first.”

He rolled his eyes, even though no one could see him in the suit and fist bumped Ned. “Thanks for the help, we should do it again.”

“Absolutely, see you tomorrow.” 

It was nice to have someone else to talk to during the night, but the noise of the city was a different type of peaceful. Peter patrolled his territory and collected extra rats to bring home with him. Ned’s my best friend but he doesn’t need to see me do this. It was three in the morning when he got back. “Sorry for waking you, Mr. Stark.”

His mentor looked rough. His hair was messy, and it looked like he fell asleep in the clothes he wore the whole day. “It’s fine, kid,” Mr. Stark yawned, “Karen mentioned you were hurt, and I wanted to make sure you’re good.” 

As always, the medical supplies were always out on the island. Today, his injuries were mostly bruises, so most of the stuff was unnecessary, but as he swung to chase a car jacker he went into a construction zone as a shortcut and snagged his skin on some exposed metal. It’s almost like I was medium stabbed today. At least I don’t need a tetanus shot. Peter got out the hydrogen peroxide and cotton balls. 

Mr. Stark’s eyes lingered on the gash. “You really abuse my multimillion-dollar suit, you know that?” 

Peter hummed, “only in the name of doing good.” It certainly wasn’t the worst injury he’d ever gotten, but he’d need to put three or four stitches into his arm to make it heal faster. The problem was that he’d need help to get them in considering the placement of the wound. Sure, I could use one hand, but that’ll take way too long. He looked up to his mentor. 

“What’s up kid?”

“Can you help me? I’ve only ever given myself stitches on the leg.”

Now Mr. Stark looked completely awake. “Is it that bad? I can call Dr. Cho if you want. Friday, see if you can get a hold of her.”

“Friday cancel the call please,” Peter started, “I don’t need Dr. Cho to come here at three in the morning. I just need help with positioning.” I’m glad I moved my medical equipment here before my house was destroyed. Not many first aid kits come with a needle driver or hooked needles. 

“Sure kid.” Mr. Stark sat down next to Peter. “What do you need me to do?”

“Just hold my skin as I stitch and occasionally dab the area.” Alright, go in at ninety degrees, be a few millimeters down from the skin edge, tie three times, clip the thread. Done and onto the next. After four, Peter put down the needle driver and smiled up to his mentor. “That should be good, thank you for the help Mr. Stark.”

The man looked uncomfortable and stared at the wound. “No problem.”

Mr. Stark didn’t move back to his two-seat distance. “By the way, I have this thing this weekend for the Decathlon team. We’re going to Washington D.C for a competition.”

“Yeah? Congrats kid.”

“Sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I wasn’t supposed to go, but Mr. Harrington opened a spot for me,” Peter said quickly. “He said it was a reward for doing so much better in class.” Why did you tell him that?

“Were your grades low before?”

“No, my grades are all great. He meant, um, participation. Anyway, I’ll be gone this weekend for it, just to let you know.”

“Oh boy, my first weekend alone here in the penthouse in weeks. Going to throw a party,” Mr. Stark said sarcastically. “You guys going to go see the sights while you’re in D.C too?”

“Yeah.” Peter put his tools down and turned to his mentor. They were still very close. “We’re going to the Washington Monument while we’re there, the Smithsonian, the Holocaust museum, and the African American history museum. I’m pretty excited about it, I love museums.” 

“Of course you do,” Mr. Stark snorted. “Will you be okay to go on the trip? Those things usually have you sharing rooms, right?”

“Yeah, Mr. Harrington and most of the teachers know about, um, I’m going to room with Ned. I just need to sign the permission slip.”

“Oh, do you need me to sign it too?”

Why would he need to sign the-oh. OH. “No, it’s fine. I usually forge Mr. Dickenson’s signature. It’s good to stay consistent.”

“Okay, good,” Mr. Stark said and cleared his throat. He stood up. “Make sure you eat something before you go to sleep, so you start healing. Night, Pete.”

“Good night, Mr. Stark.”

By the time Peter ate, cleaned himself, and finally made it to his nest, it was closing in on four in the morning. School is going to be so terrible in three hours. As always, before he climbed into bed, he stroked May’s enclosure and she came out to greet him. He prekilled a cricket for her and threw it in. “You’re doing great,” Peter praised as she jumped on her prey. 

“You did a fantastic job today, Peter,” Karen complemented as he climbed into bed. “Not only with your Spiderman activities, but with Ned. And I appreciate your unwillingness to touch my code.”

He went under the covers and was careful to not put any pressure on his arm. “I’d never let anyone touch your code without your permission. The only way it’s being messed with is if you need an upgrade or something broke, and even then, you get a say in what happens.” 

“Thank you, Peter.”

Peter hummed and closed his eyes. Just need to calm down enough to get a few hours of rest. 

“You know, I think he seems very fatherly towards you,” Karen said. 

“I need to go to sleep,” Peter groaned. I really don’t want to have this conversation right now. 

“We both know you won’t,” Karen started. “When you’re with him it seems like you feel it too. Do you think you don’t deserve to be treated like that?”

He stared up to the web covered ceiling. “When I went into the system, the CPS lady was pretty clear about my chances of being taken in by another family. No one wants teenagers. They aren’t cute anymore, it’s harder to form a bond, too much baggage. She said that to me and so did the others in the group home I was in.” 

“That’s not true,” Karen interrupted.

“It was true for them, they just told me what to expect. Anyway, I was taken in by Mr. Dickenson and things were fine for a while. I never thought that we would ever be a family, he was more of a person who let me stay at his house and he got paid for it. But he also sometimes gave off THE vibe, you know?”

“I’m not sure what you mean,” Karen said.

“THE vibe. Because his hand would linger on me, he’d stand way too close, and his eyes would always be on my back. It made my spider senses go crazy for a while, they’d even go off in places like my room or bathroom. It didn’t matter if I locked the door.” Peter took a deep, shaky breath, “one day my senses went crazy during dinner, and I didn’t want to eat the food, but it’s not like I could refuse food. It’d be rude for one thing and it was hard to come by enough food to keep me satisfied.” 

He had to stop because he was choking on air and his head started to hurt from holding back tears. “After an hour I felt super tired, and I went to bed. My senses were still going off, but I was so tired. And I woke up in the middle of the night to him at the end of my bed, and it’s all so fuzzy that it made me think it never happened. But I know he did,” Peter continued.

“Peter, if he hurt you-”

“No, he didn’t do anything. From what I remembered, he stared at me for what felt like forever and shuffled out of the room. The next morning at breakfast he acted like everything was the same. And I left to live in my house after that.”

“I think you should tell Tony.”

“And what will happen? I get moved to another placement? Back to a group home? Where I need to hide what I am again? Where I’m hungry? With my luck I’ll get someone worse and I won’t be able to be here as often.”

Karen didn’t say anything.    

“I made a promise to myself that when I age out, I’ll tell them about it, so he doesn’t get any more placements. But for right now, this is good.”

“I don’t think it is. I think you need to go Tony and figure this out.”

Peter sat up in bed despite the flash of pain from his arm. “I can’t. I can’t right now.”

“Why?” 

“Because Karen, what if? What if he’s like Skip or Mr. Dickenson?”

“He’s not, I assure you, he’s not.”

“I know! Logically and in my heart, I know he’s not. Just like Mr. Harrington, or Mr. Leeds, or my gym teacher, or Mr. Hogan. I know Mr. Stark isn’t like that, he’s never given me THE vibe and I feel totally safe around him and, in this tower, but what if? Skip and Mr. Dickenson seemed like good people at first.”

“If you think he’s luring you into a false sense of security, he’s not. I would have picked up on it by now, and I would not advise you to stay here if I thought you were in danger.” 

“I know. I know! But sometimes, it’s just so hard to trust someone. I know not everyone is like that, but two is enough. I hope it’s enough. I hope whatever being or fate controls my terrible luck has decided it’s enough.” The tears dropped down his face and his arms shook. In a small voice he added, “because if someone else in my life is like that again, I think it would break me.” 

“I cannot control other people, but I promise you Peter that whatever happens, I will always be with you. I will always look after you and make sure you’re alright.”

“Thank you.”

Peter fell back into his bed and twisted himself further into the burrito position to try to simulate the feeling of a hug. Crying helped, his head didn’t hurt as much anymore, his body started to feel cooler, and he finally started to feel tired.  

“Karen.” Peter took a deep breath and wiped away the tears in his eyes. “I love you.”

“I don’t technically have emotions. It’d be wrong of me to say it back,” Karen said, though her voice sounded pained. 

“I wanted you to know that I do.” Just in case.

“I love you as much as I am able too.”

“I know,” Peter choked out. One day, I want to say it to Mr. Stark, but I don’t think we’re there yet. As he started to fall asleep the sky turned from the midnight blue to a lovely shade of purple. 

It took forever to leave the tower on Friday morning for the Decathlon field trip. Mr. Stark grilled him and gave him some money, a credit card, some extra snacks, asked him if he packed enough to keep him warm (twice), and asked if Peter wanted a better hotel than the one the school was putting him in. It took so long a disgruntled Happy came up to collect him. 

“He’s going to be late, Tony. Then I’d have to drive him all the way to D.C,” Happy said. 

They walked to the elevator and Mr. Stark followed them to the doors. “If you need to be picked up early, call me or Happy, we can be there in three hours,” Mr. Stark said as Peter entered the elevator. 

“Okay, see you on Sunday night, Mr. Stark.”

“Have a good time, Pete.”

It was a little awkward in the elevator because it was just him and Happy for the first time ever. Calm down, you know he’s not going to do anything to you. “Don’t let him make you nervous kid, he’s just worried.”

“I know.” Peter pulled out his phone.

Me: Hello Mr. James. This is Peter Parker, I visited you with Mr. Stark. I just wanted to let you know that I will not be around the tower this weekend like usual and Mr. Stark will be alone. It’d be a good time to call him.

Mr. James: Thank you Peter Parker. I’ll check up on him. 

Happy didn’t talk to him on the way to school but gave him a wave as he left the car. I think I’m growing on him. On the bus he sat next to Ned, who excitedly talked about the competition and Spiderman. It was regular Spiderman stuff thankfully, and not anything Peter specific. To their surprise, Flash joined in on the conversation saying how cool Spiderman was, and later so did most of the bus.

I didn’t know everyone knew about Spiderman. I guess I’m getting pretty popular. If only I was this well liked in my day-to-day life. They arrived at the motel to check in and drop off their stuff before going straight to the Smithsonian. It was so cool, with the taxidermy, mineral collection, dinosaur bones, technology, and so much more. Peter and Ned took a lot of photos and he sent some to Mr. Stark. 

Mr. Mentor: looks like fun kiddo

Me: It is! And I’m not a kid.

It was a great and exhausting day that ended with them being shoved in their motel rooms and having a piece of tape over their door. “I’ll know if you guys leave if the tape is off the door, so don’t think about sneaking into each other’s rooms,” Mr. Harrington warned. 

Peter dumped his bag out on his bed. “Alright Ned, let’s figure this out.” In school they were able to take the weapon apart to get to the flickering glowy thing inside. Now they just had to sync Karen to the energy signal and hopefully they could track other weapons. “Karen?”

“I have the energy signature and I’ve detected more nearby,” Karen answered. 

“I’ll go check it out. Lucky we’re here this weekend,” Peter said. He picked out his suit from his bag and headed to the bathroom. 

Ned stopped him, “dude, you can’t go out. You heard what Mr. Harrington said about the tape.”

“Good thing Spiderman doesn’t need to use doors.”   

“That was so cool, dude.”

As long as I’m back for the Decathlon in time it doesn’t matter. The tracking led him far away, on top of trucks and swinging over roadways. It ended at a truck stop weigh station. “The weapons are in there, Karen?”

“Yes, I have found reports that they are going to be transported to a secure facility tonight,” Karen said. 

“Good, so probably nothing is going to happen,” Ned said in his ear. After an hour of watching the truck Ned yawned. “I’m going to head to bed, night Peter.”

Maybe nothing will happen tonight. My luck usually isn’t that good though. “Night.”

It took about fifteen minutes for something to happen. The sixteen-wheeler powered up and drove off and Peter decided to follow it. It’s still early might as well see where it goes. Which turned out to be a great idea because a man with glowing green eyes and giant metal wings landed on top of it and set down an otherworldly looking portal. The man disengaged from his wings and dropped into the truck.

Now is my chance. Peter jumped to the truck and reached out to the purple glow. It felt like jelly and his hand phased through the top of the truck. Cool, it’s like some kind of matter phase shifter. The birdman collected some scraps and jumped out with a bag of stolen goods. 

Peter webbed the bag and brought it to his hands. “I don’t think so big bird, these don’t belong to you.”

The birdman’s glowing green eyes bore into him and he jumped back into his wings and swooped towards him. 

A chill went down Peter’s spine and his stomach turned. “Oh God.” He flipped over birdman and tried to web his wings, but it was shredded on impact. The wings came at him with frightening speed as the talons came out to grab the bag. He dodged and grabbed the bag as the birdman tried to fly away, but a flap of the wings made the bag rip and Peter fall back. “OOF.” On reflex, Peter jumped back up to rejoin the fight and then everything went black. 

Is this what a hangover feels like? I’m pretty sure I didn’t drink any of Mr. Stark’s alcohol. Peter groaned and struggled to get up. “You have a mild concussion,” Karen said in a low voice.

“Karen? Do you know where I am?” 

“Still in the alien weapons storage container.”

He rubbed his head. “Not the time Karen. I meant location wise.”

“Sorry, just wanted to keep things calm,” Karen said apologetically. “I’m not sure, my sensors are hindered by the walls of the container.” 

“Great,” Peter deadpanned. Parker luck strikes again. The door to the back of the truck didn’t look too hard to break open. “Alright Karen, they could have hijacked the truck and taken it to their evil lair. We may have to fight our way out of this. You ready?” 

“Always.”

The doors broke away easily and Peter scanned the area. The lights were on, but there was no one in sight and he didn’t hear anyone, not even a heartbeat. Peter jumped to a wall and climbed up to get a better vantage point. “Can your sensors tell us anything now?”

“We’re in the most secure places on the Eastern seaboard, the damage control deep storage vault, D.O.D.C,” Karen answered. 

“What! No!” He scaled down the wall to what looked like a door and tried to pry it open. 

“It will most likely open in the morning,” Karen said. 

“Morning? I’m going to miss the Decathlon tournament! MJ is going to be so mad. Can you send a message out to Ned and tell him what happened?”

“No, a message from the inside of this vault would alert people of our presence, it’s best to sit here and wait.”

Thanks a lot Parker luck. You really shine on me. Peter sighed and relaxed on the wall. “I’m glad you’re here with me, Karen.”

“I will always accompany you. While you wait, might I suggest going over some of your suit functions?” 

“Why? I like my own webs just fine.” Even if they are kind of basic, I made them, which makes them awesome. 

“It would have been helpful before when your regular webs were shredded,” Karen refuted.

It’s not like I don’t have the time. They went through some of the suit’s functions that included WAY too many different web combinations for him to remember, a flying squirrel type thing, and instant kill mode. It’s all really cool, there is no way I would have thought about all this stuff.  

“I always wanted to try out the instant kill,” Karen commented. 

That might be slightly worrying. “We are never using that option.”

It was a lot to go over, and after a while Peter set up a hammock to try to get some sleep, but he ended up staring at the concrete ceiling. It would look better with web on it. Ugh. Why did I even think I’d be able to sleep? At least I’m not cold because of the two jackets Mr. Stark made me bring. He tried to wrap himself in webs, but he knew these were the dissolving type and it wasn’t a good substitute for his blanket at home. “I need to get out of here.”

Peter went back into the storage container he came out of and inspected the scraps the birdman was going to steal. He makes weapons with this stuff, there must be something useful in here. Under some rubble was a similar glowy thing to the one he and Ned had. “Karen can we use another one of these for anything?”

“I’m not sure, but I would put it down. That Chitauri power core is still activated and has a reasonable risk of exploding,” Karen said. 

He dropped the power core and backed up. “Did you say exploding?! That would have been nice to know before Ned and I reactivated it!”

“You only reactivated it for a few seconds, and it needs a dose of radiation to explode, which is highly unlikely.”

“Highly unlik-Karen, how many things that happened in my life in the last year that you’ve known me have been highly unlikely?! We need to get out of here now!” Peter grabbed his backpack and climbed up to the door opening mechanism. It took some MacGyvering and trying way too many code combinations, but the door finally opened. “Yes! Alright, as soon as we are out of detectable reach, I need you to direct me back to the Decathlon tournament.”

“On it.” 

During their trek back, Peter tried to call Ned multiple times to tell him to NOT hold onto the power core. Come on. Come on! COME ON! NED ANSWER! He must already be in the tournament! It was a panic inducing hour before Ned finally picked up the phone. 

“Dude are you okay? You missed the tournament and I covered for you. I didn’t know what else to do.”

“Yeah, yeah. Where is the glowy thing? You don’t have it with you right?”

“Don’t worry, I have it on me. We’re at the Washington Monument right now-”

“No, you need to get rid of it! The glowy thing is-”

“Peter is that you?” Liz said through the phone. 

Liz, what? “Hey Liz, nice to hear from you. Can you put Ned back on the phone please? It’s really important.” 

“No one is mad that you missed the tournament, and we’re all here to support you if you need it.” Liz said calmly.

“Uh, yeah, okay. Can you put Ned back on the phone? He usually helps me,” Peter said quickly.  

“We’re going through the metal detectors now. We’ll check on you when we get back, just sit tight and do some breathing exercises, okay?” The line went dead. 

He didn’t care that he was running through a crowd of people in D.C in his Spiderman suit, he had to get to the Washington Monument. “Karen, is exposure to an x-ray enough to set off the core?”

“Potentially. But it would also need to be activated which is unlikely considering-”

“Murphy’s law, Karen.” When he finally got to the Washington Monument, he saw debris float down in a puff of smoke. “What’s going on?”

“The Chitauri core went off and has done severe structural damage to the elevator.”

Of course it has! 

“My friends are up there!”

Peter turned to see MJ pointing at the top of the monument. “What? Don’t worry ma’am, everything will be fine!” Peter said and rushed to the structure. 

“Ten minutes until catastrophic failure, and their safety systems are not working. Your class is in imminent mortal danger.”

It’s a good thing I have so much experience climbing towers. “Best way to get in?”

“Sending reconnaissance drone.”

The spider emblem popped off his chest and flew around the structure. I really should have explored these suit options more. That’s so cool.  

“Southwest window, time down to three minutes,” Karen informed. 

“I thought you said ten minutes!” Peter crawled to the window and kicked it. “Ow, why is it not breaking?”

“Instability in the elevator has caused an acceleration in the meltdown. You need more force than that to break four-inch ballistic glass.”

“Alright. Let’s do this.” He webbed a portion above the window, jumped, and swung back down to it. The glass cracked slightly.

A helicopter flew in behind him. “Stand down, you need to return to the ground immediately. Return to the ground or we will open fire!”

Come on!

“A combination of being shot and falling from this height will kill you,” Karen warned.

Now or never. From higher up on the structure, Peter jumped and landed on the window, successfully breaking the glass and he went through the window. He slid across the floor and was able to web the elevator as it fell, holding on to his web with his hands and anchored by his feet. “I did it,” Peter said with relief. 

The anchoring failed in a second, sending the elevator and Peter down the shaft further. On the way down, he hit the walls and then he fell into the elevator through a hole in the top. With no time to be disoriented, he shot multiple webs up and anchored himself to the roof of the elevator to stop it from falling further. 

The screaming finally stopped, and Peter had four frightened people staring at him. “Hi, hello. Don’t panic, I’m going to get you guys back up there. Just stay calm and no sudden movements.”

“It appears as though the Chitauri core has gone dead. That threat is eliminated.” Karen said. 

At least there was one good thing about today. Peter shot out more web to stabilize the elevator before going back out to the shaft and creating something akin to a rigging system. It was a full body workout to carefully lift the elevator back up to the top floor, but eventually they got there. Once the elevator was up there, he webbed it in place while emergency responders helped the rest of the class off the elevator.  

Through the midst of the chaos, he was able to slip away with the Chitauri core and hide himself back in the motel room and wait. I did that. I ruined a national monument and almost caused four people to die. Peter took the blanket off his bed, wrapped himself in it, and hid in the bathroom.

Eventually, Mr. Harrington knocked gently on the door. “Peter, are you still in there? Ned told me you weren’t feeling well today.”

“I’m sorry, I just couldn’t go out there with you guys. It’s a bad day,” Peter said with a shaky voice. 

Mr. Harrington sighed, he didn’t sound angry or disappointed. “It’s okay Peter, I’m glad you were here. There was an incident after the tournament. At the Washington Monument.” He explained everything that happened, and Peter dutifully listened through the door. I did that. 

They left D.C early and the bus ride home was silent. 

As soon as Peter reached the top of the penthouse, Mr. Stark was there with medical supplies ready. In the car ride home Happy mentioned that he barely convinced the man to not fly to D.C or drive himself down to the school. “How you feeling, kid?”

“Fine.” Kinda feels like I’m floating. But worse. 

“Do you have any injuries from your escapades?” Mr. Stark asked. 

“Nah, the suit protected me from the glass. I’m mostly just sore.” Not like I can do anything about the bruises from falling down the elevator shaft. But he sat down at the island anyway and looked down to his hands. 

Mr. Stark got out two glasses of soda and set one down next to Peter. “I’m not angry that you brought the suit with you, I’m glad you did. You saved your classmates, I’m proud of you.”

“You shouldn’t be proud of me.” Peter brought his legs up to the chair and sat in a ball. “It was my fault. With the elevator. I went after those alien weapons and I stopped the guy from stealing more the night before. To find him we used a Chitauri power core and Ned had it on him. It’s what caused the explosion. I could have killed people. I could have killed my friends.” 

Mr. Stark froze, and Peter couldn’t look his mentor in the eyes. “Peter, you were able to fix your mistake. Which is a hell of a lot more than some people can do. But why and how did you have a Chitauri power core? And why were you going after the weapons? I told you I’d take care of it,” Mr. Stark said with agitation.

“Because I have to.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Yes, I do. I can do things no one else can. What if someone was able to catch cars and prevent a car crash? What if there had been someone really working to get regular weapons off the street?” 

“Peter, doing these things.” Mr. Stark sighed, “they won’t bring them back.”

“I know,” Peter said quietly. “But what if I stop someone else’s mom, dad, brother, sister, aunt, uncle, someone they care about from being killed? What if I stop them from being abused?”

Mr. Stark took a deep breath and ran his fingers through his hair. “Kid, I don’t know what to say to that.”

Well, I don’t know what to say after that. Peter abruptly stood up. I need to go to my nest and wrap myself in my blankets. He took a deep unsteady gulp of air and looked up to the ceiling. I should go up to the ceiling. His arms didn’t move and they only increasingly trembled. Peter unstuck his hands from the table and jaggedly walked towards the hallway but stopped part way there.

I want to leave but I don’t want to be alone. The hyper aware, 4D Imax feeling came back and it was overwhelming. He’d start performing a motion like lift his arm to go to the ceiling and then stop and do another like taking a small step forward and then back again. His body moved, but he didn’t go anywhere.  

“You doing okay over there, kid?” Mr. Stark asked tentatively. 

Peter stopped and looked at him. His mentor stood out in the open, with a concerned expression. He’s not Skip or Mr. Dickenson and he will never be them. Peter huffed and slammed himself into Mr. Stark’s, which caused his mentor to let out a large OOF. Probably not the best decision giving the reactor, but Peter wrapped his arms around him and put an ear to his chest. 

It only took a second for Mr. Stark’s arms wrapped around his body. Yes, this is what I needed.  To try to keep his emotions in check, or not cry into Iron Man’s arms, Peter squeezed his mentor’s torso. Peter could hear his back crack and the reactor hum. 

“Not too tight, Pete,” Mr. Stark said with a wince. 

“Sorry!” Peter said and broke away from the hug. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to-I’m sorry if I hurt you.” His breathing picked up and suddenly everything was too bright. 

“It’s okay kid, you may have fixed my back though. Can probably cancel my chiropractor appointment,” Mr. Stark said with a laugh. “Just give me a heads-up next time, yeah?”

Why did you do that?! He likes to be touched just as much as you do! He’s going to think you’re weird and not want to be around me anymore. And then what? Who will you have left? 

“Hey, everything is okay, alright.” Mr. Stark hesitated to get closer to him, but ultimately came back into Peter’s personal space. He didn’t hesitate to put a comforting hand on Peter’s shoulder. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Okay. Okay, he’s not mad. It made Peter feel better, but his body wouldn’t calm down. His breathing was still as harsh as the lights and the shaking wouldn’t stop. The hand on his shoulder tightened its grip before bringing Peter back to Mr. Stark’s chest. 

“Everything is fine,” Mr. Stark assured. “You’re fine. We’re fine.”

He kept saying things like that until Peter managed to calm down. He’s not Uncle Ben either, but he’s something close. This time when Peter wrapped his arms around Mr. Stark, it was less desperate. Like an actual hug. A hug that a family member would give to help soothe wounds. Peter crumbled into him and may have let a few tears slip out. 

I guess we’re there. 

Chapter Text

If there was one perceived negative emotion Tony could get behind, it would be spite. The need to do something just so you can shove it in some asshole’s face and say fuck you while you do it. It was an odd way to motivate him to go to business meetings, but it was a motivator, nonetheless. Well, there was another motivator, but Tony didn’t want to think about her right now.  

The look on his employee’s faces when he walked into the meeting was so comical, Tony laughed out loud. Especially since Tony had time to read all the email threads and have a mental list of people who liked to say unscrupulous things about him. The decision to go was a spontaneous one, Tony saw that there was one at the tower today, read over what it was going to be about, and decided to go for the hell of it. Peter was in school, and he didn’t have much to do anyway. 

It was also the spite thing.

It’d been months since Tony had made any appearances to both the company and the public and messing with them was so much fun, he decided to go more often. The shock wore off soon though, so he decided that participation was necessary to keep up the fun. For the third time that week, Tony walked into the meeting room, sat down at the head of the table, and spun slowly in his chair. He stared at each employee as they came in one by one. It’s even better when I’m the first one here. Today the meeting was about some of the functions of the upcoming Stark Phone 9. Nothing too major, but he wanted details to give to Peter later. 

More people came in and a few people signed on from holo screens. They were employees who couldn’t leave the labs they were working in to keep on schedule or people who couldn’t get a flight in time. Tony liked to call it a cop out. If I could always make it to meetings instead of being in the lab, these fuckers should be able to. 

One of the screens lit down the table from him and showed the most beautiful woman in the world. Tony sat up in his chair and adjusted his suit. Pepper looked better than the last time he saw her, which made sense because the last time he saw her, she hadn’t slept in days from being at his bedside. 

Pepper’s eyes met Tony’s for a moment but didn’t linger. Her facial expression didn’t even change, it remained stoic and business like. It was a good move to wear sunglasses. It allowed him to glance over to her without making it too obvious that he was looking at her. It was the first time she’d been in the same meeting as him. 

“We’re going to have an updated camera with the highest resolution on the market and it lays the foundation to have a LiDAR sensor in the next generation to improve the camera quality even more,” one board member said. 

Oh right, there is a meeting going on. “Why don’t we just add the sensor now?” Tony asked as he leaned back in the chair. 

The man giving the presentation paused and pulled at his collar. “It would push our development back-”

“By what? A month?” Tony interrupted. 

“It would also leave us without a new camera innovation for the Stark Phone 10,” Pepper answered. 

“So? We’ll think of something else. And it would put us way ahead of Oscorp and Apple.”

“We’re already ahead of them.”

“Then why not add it in anyway? The technology is already there and who cares if it’s delayed by another month or two. Here’s an idea, just skip the 9 and go straight to the 10 if we already know what stuff is going in the 10. It’ll make people excited.” 

“Because Mr. Stark, some aspects of the 10 have not been fully explored yet with research and development. It would make sense and be more profitable to release the 9 and then the 10 in the scheduled two years apart.”

“Why Miss Potts, are you employing the planned obsolescence strategy for profits instead of upholding Stark Industries’ goal to provide the people with the best technology available?”

“Well Mr. Stark, I would argue that all goods produced have a time where they are no longer useful.” She paused for a moment. "I do run a company that needs a significant income boost because it's been in a mysterious lull for the last couple of months.”

Cold as a snake, but that’s why I love her. "I've been reading the reports. Do you think the Stark phone will put us back on track?"

"It'll help." Pepper audibly shuffled papers on her screen and then stared into him. "Among other things." 

“Well,” Tony started and cleared his throat, “good to know.”

Everyone in the room was silent and from Tony’s peripheral vision, many shifted in their seats or looked down at their clothing or notepads. Right, it’s not good for them to see mommy and daddy fight. 

“Now that is settled, Stewart, if you could continue?” Pepper said to the man giving the presentation. 

Nice to know the guy’s name. Stewart went on about the other new features of the Stark Phone 9, but Tony didn’t speak up or even pay attention that much. It was impossible when she was so close. Stare but not long enough to be creepy, Stark. It was always more interesting to watch her work than anything else. 

The whole meeting took about two hours, which was entirely too long, in his opinion. As soon as Stewart and his crew ended their presentation, Pepper looked at Tony and said, “you have another meeting at one.” And then her projection dissipated. 

Not what I wanted her to say to me, but I guess it was better than nothing. From his phone, Tony checked his schedule to see what the next one was about. New company policies, keeping happy employees, and the importance of smiles. Oh, fuck me. 

There are things that all the readings and his own personal experiences didn't prepare him for and one of them was Peter’s total nonchalance to getting hurt. Most days when the kid came back from being Spiderman, he at least had a couple of scrapes and bruises, from what Tony could see. Nothing too major and Karen had informed him that the kid’s healing factor was the best it’s ever been. She deemed it unnecessary to inform him or Dr. Cho of an injury that would take less than three days to heal and leave no permanent damage. 

Something Tony would have to have a conversation with her about because even if the gash would be gone in two days, he’d like to know specifically that Peter would need stitches. It’s not like Tony’s never had or seen injuries worse, it was just unnerving to watch Peter deal with them, even more so when the kid asked for help. The wound was bleeding on Peter’s upper arm and it began to clot as the kid unflinchingly dabbed it with hydrogen peroxide. Then he slowly looked up to him and shrank further into his chair. 

“What’s up kid?” Tony asked lightly.

“Can you help me? I’ve only ever given myself stitches on the leg.”

Did he just ask me for help? He never does that. Why didn’t Karen tell me it was life threatening? “Is it that bad? I can call Dr. Cho if you want. Friday, see if you can get a hold of her.” Alright, even if she is unavailable, I can fix whatever's wrong, I’d just have to call in the medical team and have them sign NDAs, but it’s going to be fine. Everything will be fine. 

“Friday cancel the call please,” Peter said calmly, “I don’t need Dr. Cho to come here at three in the morning. I just need help with positioning.” 

“Sure kid.” Tony slowly moved closer to Peter and sat down next to him. Don’t want to scare him off now. “What do you need me to do?”

“Just hold my skin as I stitch and occasionally dab the area.” 

The kid used the same focus and precision he had in the lab when he worked on himself. Peter grunted and flinched when the needle driver went through him but made no complaints. I think this is concerning. After four ties, he put the tools down, dabbed the wound again, and smiled up to Tony.  

“That should be good, thank you for the help Mr. Stark.”

It definitely feels concerning. “No problem.” And I really don’t want to do this again. Seeing Peter’s sliced flesh made his stomach flip.

The kid looked unsure again. “By the way, I have this thing this weekend for the Decathlon team, we’re going to Washington D.C for a competition.”

“Yeah? Congrats kid.”

“Sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I wasn’t supposed to go, but Mr. Harrington opened a spot for me,” Peter said quickly. “He said it was a reward for doing so much better in class.” 

“Were your grades low before?” Tony asked with a frown. I don’t remember him saying he was having trouble in school. 

“No, my grades are all great. He meant, um, participation. Anyway, I’ll be gone this weekend for it, just to let you know.”

I should look into his grades and his teachers later. “Oh boy, my first weekend alone here in the penthouse in weeks. Going to throw a party,” Tony said sarcastically. “You guys going to go see the sights while you’re in D.C too?” It’s going to be so quiet here without him. Maybe I should go to a meeting or something. 

“Yeah.” Peter put his tools down and turned Tony. “We’re going to the Washington Monument while we’re there, the Smithsonian, the Holocaust museum, and the African American history museum. I’m pretty excited about it, I love museums.” 

“Of course, you do,” Tony snorted. “Will you be okay to go on the trip? Those things usually have you sharing rooms, right?”

“Yeah, Mr. Harrington and most of the teachers, um, I’m going to room with Ned. I just need to sign the permission slip.”

“Oh, do you need me to sign it too?” Tony asked without thinking. 

“No, it’s fine. I usually forge Mr. Dickenson’s signature. It’s good to stay consistent.”

“Okay, good,” Tony said and cleared his throat. He stood up. “Make sure you eat something before you go to sleep, so you start healing. Night, Pete.”

“Good night, Mr. Stark.”

Instead of going back to bed for a night of staring up at the ceiling, Tony turned into his office. Better to get some work done. Tony brought up the meeting schedule for the upcoming week and saw a couple he could go to keep busy. Then he looked through Karen’s readings to see if anything came up for how to deal with trauma from injuries. She didn’t list anything. 

With how often they had to repair the Spiderman suit, it was becoming increasingly obvious that the flexible material wasn’t cutting it. I could make him a suit like mine, but his fighting style does not lend well to metal. Tony leaned back in his chair and opened a Spiderman suit blueprint template on his holo screen. Maybe not the same metal I have, but something different. 

Tony swiveled in his chair to stare out to the bright city of New York. I think this is better than any view I had in Malibu. There was a table next to him, one that had a shiny metal try at the top of it. The alcohol that was on top of it was put in the cabinet months ago, but Tony found himself wishing it was still there. Why does it have to be so late at night? I’d be a real douche move to call Rhodey or Tobey. Especially since Tobey’s not getting much sleep now that his kid is here. His eyes lingered on the tray before going back to the holo screen. 

“Tony, I would like to talk with you,” Karen said. Her synthetic voice was pitched to sound sad.

“What’s up?” Tony said as he looked at the time projection at his desk. The sun’s light had started to unfurl into the city, and it wouldn’t be too much longer before he’d have to leave for breakfast. Old habits die hard, I guess. Maybe I’ll get a nap in before work. 

“I’m worried,” Karen began, “before you asked me if I knew any of Peter’s experiences with Richard Dickenson and I didn’t know, but I had a talk with Peter tonight.”

“What did he tell you?” Oh God, knowing the kid’s track record it can’t be good. I can already feel the chest palpitations.

“I don’t want to break his trust and tell you something he told me confidentially, but what he told me was concerning.”

Tony took a deep breath. “Karen, you don’t need to tell me what Dickenson did to Peter specifically, but can you tell me if he touched him in any way?”

“No. But it was a bad situation, and I don’t think he should go back.”

Okay, maybe it was just emotional abuse. “I thought we already agreed on that?” It’s pretty fucked that emotional abuse is the best bad option and I feel relieved about it.  

“Yes, of course, but I’m...worried. I’m very worried about him.”

This is somewhat concerning too. I’ve never heard the A.Is like this. “I’m worried too. He was very jittery earlier. And by the way, can you notify me anytime he has a wound that would need stitches, I think that counts as a major injury.” 

“We have not encountered what I would consider a major injury yet, but I agree. It would have been much harder for him to heal without your help today.”

“Good. Can you find me some readings on childhood injuries and responses to them? Stuff like that. I think the kid has a bit of a problem.”

“Anything else?” 

“Yeah, can you remind me to order something for Tobey later? I’m pretty sure you’re supposed to give first time father’s cigars or something.” 

“Friday will remind you.”

“Thanks,” Tony snorted. Forgot she wasn’t my A.I for a second there. He turned back to the iron spider blueprints on his holo screen. In the few extra hours between then and Peter waking up, Tony was able to get a good skeleton theorized. I may not be able to put him in vibranium, but this will be just as good. 

When Peter came out from his room, his eyes had bags and his shoulders were slumped, but he was less twitchy. I guess talking with Karen last night really helped him. He poured them each a glass of orange juice and heated up a box of breakfast sandwiches. “You look really tired, Mr. Stark.”

“Hello pot, I’m kettle,” Tony responded.

Peter’s eyes followed his hands. “No one knows that expression anymore, I think you should retire it, old man.”

“Nah, if an ankle biter like you knows it, then I think it’s fine,” Tony joked back. As Tony got the sandwiches out of the microwave, he could still feel the kid’s eyes on him. What’s going on with him lately? He doesn’t seem scared of me, he’s just watching. It felt the same as it did the other day when Tony made pancakes. It was unlikely that the kid would tell him why he stared at Tony, so he didn’t ask.  

When they finished breakfast, Peter did the dishes and still continued to watch him. As the kid was heading out he looked conflicted and made a move to reach out to him, but ultimately got in the elevator and left. I’ll try to get him to talk to me later about what’s bothering him. Who knew half of having a kid would be trying to get him to talk.

Instead of taking a nap, Tony tinkered with the plans for the Iron Spider suit. I just need to finish the outline, then Peter and I can come up with more ideas for it. I’m sure he’d love to make his next suit with me. Once again, he was so focused Tony lost track of time and when he looked up, he only had an hour until the meeting. Well, I guess it’s time to get out of yesterday's clothes. But maybe one more thing. The next time he looked up he only had twenty minutes. Just enough time to make some coffee and get to the meeting floor. 

Miraculously, he made it to the damn thing with a minute to spare and sitting down across the table from him was none other than Pepper Potts, who gave him a very unimpressed look. Of course, she had to pick today to show up in person. Despite her radiance, he was able to pay attention to the presentation because it was on plans on testing out the improvements to wind technology he and Peter made.

The next time his work comes up in a meeting, I’ll need to sign Peter out of school so he can see what our work becomes. I should probably start taking him to these things anyway so he could get used to it. The whole meeting took three hours, and he paid attention through all of it, Tony didn’t even fall asleep and he took notes. Every time Peter’s name flashed on a slide, he smiled to himself. 

When the meeting concluded, Tony let the room empty out as he finished writing. If anything, I should bring the kid just so he’s the one to write this shit down. When he looked up, Pepper stared back at him. He stopped writing. “Hello Miss Potts, what can I do for you?”

“You look like shit,” Pepper said. 

“Succinct as always and I didn’t need you to tell me that, thanks.”

“I’m surprised you showed up today.”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world. What would you like to berate me for today?”

Pepper’s eyes narrowed and looked him up and down. “I thought your days of coming into meetings strung out were over.”

Tony huffed, reached into his wallet to pull out a small red chip, and held it up. “You caught me on a bad day. I’ve gone straight.” Can’t blame her for thinking that. Coming in with sunglasses, yesterday's clothes, and being awake for thirty hours will raise suspicion. 

Her expression broke into a tired mournful face. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know. Will you have to give it back?”

“No, I’m not hungover, it was just one of those nights. Where I can’t get to sleep and then I work on a suit.” Tony got up from his chair and straightened his papers and back. I really need to schedule an appointment with the chiropractor.  

The clicking of Pepper’s heels echoed through the room until they stopped at him. “Just like old times.” Her hands came up to his jacket to fix it and his tie.

When she finished they were at eye level. “Just like old times,” Tony agreed. He reached out and moved her hair behind her shoulder. “I’m not reading this wrong, am I?”

A slight smile came onto her face. “No, but I have another meeting in eight minutes and you haven’t showered or brushed your teeth since yesterday.”

“You know, you have a real talent for being correct. It’s uncanny.”

“That’s why I’m the boss.” She took a step back. “I’ll contact you later. Get some rest, Mr. Stark.”

I wish she was still next to me. “Thank you, Miss Potts. I look forward to hearing from you.”  

Pepper nodded and excited the room. 

There was a time in Tony’s life where he made fun of parents that always hovered over the kids. The soccer moms and helicopter parents that thought their precious baby angel could do no wrong and needed to make sure their kid was safe at all time. In fact, Tony would have ridiculed and mocked these people about a year ago, but now he could understand the feeling. 

“Alright, you should be good for food. Did you pack another jacket? Just in case?”

“Yes, Mr. Stark. You already asked me.”

“I know, just want to make sure. Nothing worse than being cold. Are you sure you don’t want your own hotel room somewhere?” 

“I’m fine with Ned, Mr. Stark. I trust him.”

“I can put you both up in a separate hotel room if you want. It’s fine if you do, I have more than enough money to do so.”

“No thank you, Mr. Stark.” Peter inched closer to the elevator. “I need to go or Happy will get mad.”

“He’s always mad. Do you think you’ll need more money?”

“No Mr. Stark you’ve given me enough but thank you.”

The elevator doors opened and an irritated Happy waited on the inside. “Come on kid, I don’t have all day.”

Peter nodded and looked down. “Sorry,” he mumbled. 

“It’s not the kid’s fault, Happy. We were just making sure he has everything.” 

“He’s going to be late, Tony. Then I’d have to drive him all the way to D.C,” Happy said. 

They walked to the elevator and Tony followed them to the doors. “If you need to be picked up early, call me or Happy, we can be there in three hours,” Mr. Stark said as Peter entered the elevator. 

“Okay, see you on Sunday night, Mr. Stark.”

“Have a good time, Pete.” The kid smiled at him as the doors closed and Tony watched the numbers go down on the floor indicator. It’s already far too quiet. And it’s just his normal school hours. What should I do now? He already completed the outline for the Iron Spider suit, he didn’t want to read, and his next meeting wasn’t for another two hours.  

Tony looked around his apartment to his television. It’d be nice to watch something other than movies for an hour. “Friday, let’s see what’s on TV.” 

First, he looked at the stock market channel for a bit to see how much better his company was doing than Oscorp. My share prices are more than double that dickwad’s, just how things should be. Then Tony decided to brave it and flip to the news stations. It took months, but it seemed like the Avengers buzz finally died down, and most of the major new stations were reporting on the normal things like murders and politics. After getting tired of that, he eventually landed on one of those ridiculous morning talk shows. 

“Time for our next segment--and this is my son’s favorite--superhero watch!” A lady in a bright lemon-yellow dress said. 

May as well see what they’re saying. 

“Sadly, still not much of an update on the heroes that are on the run, but we do have some updates on Iron Man himself.”

I don’t even know what they could possibly be reporting on. The only time he’d left the tower in months was to see Rhodey, and that was weeks ago at this point. “Friday, make sure you record all this just in case we need to send a letter to their studio.”

“Of course, Boss.”

The people around the lemon lady all hummed and made sounds to indicate their interest. “It seems our superhero inventor has been busy with new projects. His name and signature are on many new clean energy plans.”

The people around her made noises of fake enthusiasm.

“I know this isn’t as exciting as seeing Tony Stark in his suit, but it does mean that he is inventing again! And these are just on the public record, imagine what things he’s making in his lab right now.”

“Sure Jaz, sure,” one of the other people at her staged table said. “Maybe you’re just excited for one of America’s top bachelors to be getting ready to get back out there.” The other people laughed again, and eventually Jaz forced out a few chuckles too. 

Not that I’m glad that Jaz is being made fun of by her fake friends on television, but they don’t seem to be taking it too seriously. With how the news cycle worked something could be picked up and blown out of proportion in a matter of hours. I can’t believe people still see me as an eligible bachelor, they should know by now that Pepper and I are just on a break. Probably. 

“Next up, we are highlighting a local superhero, native to the New York region, Spiderman! He was originally only found in Queens but has recently been making a name for himself in Manhattan. The other boroughs have been eagerly awaiting his arrival.”

Tony’s heart almost stopped. He’s made it on a national morning talk show. There was a mix of pride and terror that ran through him. What if they start looking into him further? I’ll have to break out the damage control plans. 

“Here is a picture of the young hero with the family of the kitten he saved last week.” The picture was of Spiderman crouched with his arm around a little boy who had a small fluffy black and white kitten in his arms. There was a collective ‘awe’ from the people at the table. “Spiderman was able to scale the building where the kitten was stuck on a window ledge and safely return her to the ground where five-year-old Corbin was waiting.”

“Now that is too cute, no wonder the other boroughs in the area want the webslinger in the area.”

“It certainly saves the time of firemen and keeps the streets clear! Our next segment…”

Alright, no need to worry, they love him. It’s hard not to. But I know better than anyone else how quickly that can change. Tony’s chest still hurt, and the worry wouldn’t go away. We’ll have to start discussing this when he gets home. Without thinking about it, his eyes went to the cabinet. “Friday, can you get Tobey on the phone?”

It took three rings, but an exhausted—but happy--sounding voice came through. “Hey Tony! Long time no talk!”

“Yeah, I thought you were a bit busy. Didn’t want to risk making your phone ring and waking the baby,” Tony said. 

Tobey laughed, “I appreciate the consideration. Thank you for the chocolate cigars and gift card to Babies R Us, Mary was happy to see that.”

“I didn’t know what to get you or what you had, so I figured that was the best way to go.”

“It was, now we don’t need to worry about the diaper expense for a while. Thank you, really.”

“Just,” Tony cleared his throat, “helping out another parent.”

They both didn’t have much time to talk, but it was nice to catch up. Tobey, had to unfortunately go back to work after a week, but they had timed it so by the time Mary’s maternity leave ran out it was summer break. I can’t imagine how hard it is to leave your new baby. I should check SI’s policy on maternity and paternity leave.       

The rest of Friday was relatively simple and after the meetings and general SI work. Pepper’s not even trying to hide the fact that she’s giving me more work. Her emails were nice, still business like, but he could imagine her saying the words on the screen with playful professionalism instead of being cold. Some were even borderline flirtatious. And Rhodey actually called him. His tone was light, and they didn’t talk about anything that really mattered. It was nice, and Tony sent him some of the pictures Peter sent with him and his friend in the Smithsonian. 

Talking to Pepper and Rhodey made it easier to forget about his worries with his kid. 

His good mood continued into Saturday and only improved when he walked into the tower’s meeting room and Pepper was there in person. As always, it was hard to keep his eyes off her while she always remained proper and professional. Especially since the meeting was boring as shit to the point where he almost fell asleep. After it was over Tony looked over to Pepper, “Miss Potts could you stay back for a moment? I have things to discuss with you.”

“Of course, Mr. Stark,” Pepper said.

Only a few higher up long-term employees had the guts to look between them as the room emptied. “Miss Potts, you look lovely as always.” 

“Thank you, Mr. Stark. You look a lot better than I last saw you.”

“Well, I have been told I clean up nice.” Tony straightened his jacket and walked over to her with his notebook. “So, I have some things I want to discuss with you.”

“Ah, well this does look very important. I have two hours between now and my next meeting.”

“Really two hours? That’s a lot of downtime for you.”

“I organized the time gap myself, just in case we would need to go to your office, actually.”

“My office?” Tony asked lightly as his eyes fell to her lips. “What a great idea Miss Potts, we could go up there and get a lot of work done.” Up in the penthouse. Where they could be all alone. Where there are spiderwebs layering the ceiling. And Peter’s things are all over the place.

Fuck.  

Pepper’s eyes were on his lips too and she stepped closer to him. “I think so.”

Fucking goddamnit sonnovabitch. Think of some reason why she can’t come up. “But you know what I think would be better?”

“Better?” Pepper asked, slightly taken aback. “What would that be?”

“Going out for lunch and catching up with you,” Tony said smoothly as he placed his hands on her hips. 

“Really? We would need to find someplace now if we want to get back in time.”

“Biagio’s always has a table for me.” 

She slipped away from him. “Let me grab my coat.”

Goddamnit. Could have had sex for the first time in months, but nope. Fuck me. Happy raised his brow at them when he picked them up, but the atmosphere didn’t become awkward between the two of them. It was a relaxed lunch, but it was still tense in a way. They couldn’t talk to each other about the Avengers, why she was absent for so long, or Peter, but it was still nice. The press may have gotten a couple pictures of them when they sat in the restaurant, but it’s not like it was a bad thing. Let’s see them call me a bachelor now. 

“I wish I could stop by after the meeting, but I need to fly out to Paris at five,” Pepper said as they pulled back into the garage.

Thank God I don’t need to dodge her coming to the penthouse again. “I guess that means I’ll need to make an appointment with your secretary.”

“I guess so.” Pepper gave him a quick peck on the lips before she left the car. 

Tony enjoyed the silence and serenity for a moment before turning his attention to Happy. “Alright, you can berate me now.”

“Congratulations, Boss. Glad you finally got your shit together.”

“Thanks Hap, this is why you’re one of my best friends,” Tony responded partially sarcastically.

Happy hummed and sighed. “Now, I want you to enjoy that you’re back with Pep and all, but we have a situation.”

“A situation? Like what? Did the market drop a thousand points or something?” Tony asked. Please don’t be anything Avengers or Peter related. 

“Check your phone.”

When he unlocked his phone, Tony didn’t see any messages from anyone important or emails he couldn’t look at later. So, he went to google to look at the trending searches, and at the top was ‘Spiderman and Washington Monument’. He almost dropped his phone but clicked it and saw breaking news articles about Spiderman climbing up the Washington Monument to save a class of touring high schoolers. And suddenly the mix of pride and terror sat heavily on his chest.

“Happy what’s going on?” 

“From what I can gather right now, there was an explosion in the Monument that caused the elevator to fail and the kid got there just in time to catch them.”

“Did he have to give up his identity to do so?”

“I don’t think so, people are live streaming it right now, if you want to watch.”

“Do I want to-of course I want to watch! Friday, pull up the best one you can find!”

The footage wasn’t too exciting because it was just the emergency crews calming people down at the top of the Monument. While they did that, Spiderman would lift the elevator a few feet at a time, disappear back down the shaft to check the supports, and assure the people around him that everything was fine. For someone who can barely look people in the eyes, he’s handling this very well.

The methodicalness calmed Tony down a bit, the whole process of bringing the elevator and the remaining occupants went smoothly. The commotion started again when the last person stepped off the elevator and people noticed that Spiderman was gone. “Do you have any new information on this? If it was a terrorist attack of some kind?”

“It’s not SI related, Boss.”

“It’s SI related if Peter is there!” Tony shouted. One of his hands went to his chest and the other went through his hair. “I should go and make sure he’s okay. The video wasn’t clear enough to see if he had any injuries.”

“It would take hours for us to get there, especially right now.”

“Not in the suit.”

“Tony, no, he’s fine. If he wasn’t, Karen would have told us. There is no need to freak out about this.”

“There is every reason to freak out about this! Spiderman saving the nation’s capital is something that gets peoples attention and even if Shield agreed to leave in alone before, this might make them reconsider. And that doesn’t consider the villainous organizations. And the news! They’ll be all over this and they’ll probably want a statement!”

“You need to calm down. He’s fine and so is everyone else. I think you should go back up to the penthouse and wait this out.”

Tony’s phone began to ring, and an unknown caller came up. “Who are you and how did you get this number?”

“Hello,” the man on the phone said while catching his breath. “I’m Mr. Harrington and you’re listed as one of Peter Parker’s emergency contacts. Sorry to bother you, but Mr. Dickenson-”

Right, I’ve heard this guy’s name before. One of Peter’s favorite teachers. “Is a jackass, I know. I just saw the news. Is Peter okay?”

“He wasn’t with us at the time, he had a bit of trouble this morning and didn’t come with us to the competition or the Monument, thankfully. I’m glad, he’s been through a lot.”

“Yeah, he has. Is there anything else I should know about?”

“He’s still shaken up, so I would recommend anything you do at home to make him feel better. And we are coming back early for obvious reasons. We’ll be back at the front of the school in about five hours.”

“Thank you for letting me know. I’ll see you then.” The call ended and Tony turned back to Happy. “I’ll pick him up from school.”

Happy shook his head. “No, you’re too emotional to drive and there is no way I’m going to let you be seen outside a high school. You’re going back to the penthouse to get ready for when the kid comes home to congratulate him on being a full-fledged superhero. We’ll figure everything else out later.”

“I’ll call him. We need to prepare him for everything that could happen because of this.”

“Tony, just let him have this before you start to bring up the bad stuff. There’s a good chance nothing is going to happen.”

“Okay. Okay.”

In the meantime, Tony readied the medical supplies just in case something needed to be treated and looked up as many articles and videos about the Washington Monument incident. The elevator number went off and Tony summoned the most excited energy he could muster after five hours. “How you feeling, kid?” Tony asked as soon as the doors opened. 

“Fine.” 

He does not sound or look fine. Instead of walking in there with the attitude of a superhero, the kid looked like he was walking to the grave. “Do you have any injuries from your escapades?” Tony asked. 

“Nah, the suit protected me from the glass. I’m mostly just sore.” Peter sat down at the island and looked down to his hands. 

Time to guess what’s got him so upset. Tony got out two glasses of soda and set one down next to Peter. “I’m not angry that you brought the suit with you, I’m glad you did. You saved your classmates, I’m proud of you.” Got to try to break the cycle. 

“You shouldn’t be proud of me.” Peter brought his legs up to the chair and sat in a ball. “It was my fault. With the elevator. I went after those alien weapons and I stopped the guy from stealing more, but there was a Chitauri power core that Ned had on him. It’s what caused the explosion. I could have killed people. I could have killed my friends.” 

Tony froze, “Peter, even if it was your fault, you were able to fix it. Which is a hell of a lot more than some people can do. But why and how did you have a Chitauri power core? And why were you going after the weapons? I told you I’d take care of it.”

“Because I have to.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Yes, I do. I can do things no one else can. What if someone was able to catch cars and prevent a car crash? What if there had been someone really working to get regular weapons off the street?” 

“Peter, doing these things.” Tony sighed, “they won’t bring them back.” Hypocrite. 

“I know,” Peter said quietly. “But what if I stop someone else’s mom, dad, brother, sister, aunt, uncle, someone they care about from being killed? What if I stop them from being abused?”

Tony took a deep breath and ran his fingers through his hair. “Kid, I don’t know what to say to that.” How can I discipline him when he says stuff like this? 

The kid didn’t have anything else to say to that either, but he abruptly stood up and took a deep unsteady gulp of air. Next, he looked to the ceiling and reached out, but didn’t jump to get up there. Peter’s body visibly shook as he scanned the area. All his movements were stiff and jerky, like a puppet being controlled by an amateur puppeteer. Suddenly he jaggedly walked towards the hallway but stopped part way there. 

“You doing okay over there, kid?” Tony asked tentatively. This is very concerning but I have no idea what could be wrong with him. 

Peter stopped and looked at him. His pupils expanded past the normal human capacity and he was hyperventilating. The next thing Tony knew, a spider teenager rocketed into his chest and knocked out his breath. As soon as his brain caught up, Tony wrapped his arms around his kid and for Peter to squeeze back. 

“Not too tight, Pete,” Tony said with a wince as the kid cracked his back.  

“Sorry!” Peter said and broke away from the hug. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to-I’m sorry if I hurt you.” 

“It’s okay kid, you may have fixed my back though. Can probably cancel my chiropractor appointment,” Tony said with a laugh. “Just give me a heads-up next time, yeah?”

Now the kid looked terrified. The shaking and hyperventilating came back. 

“Hey, everything is okay, alright.” Tony hesitated but put a comforting hand on Peter’s shoulder. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” 

It made little difference because Peter still looked like he was on the edge of a panic attack. Fuck it. Tony tightened his grip on Peter’s shoulder before bringing the kid back to his chest.  

“Everything is fine,” Tony assured. “You’re fine. We’re fine.” He repeated it to Peter as the kid whimpered in his arms. Peter buried himself into his chest and Tony could feel tears soaking into his shirt. To get the kid to calm down, Tony stroked his hair and eventually Peter relaxed. 

“I’m tired,” Peter said, but didn’t pull away. 

I can’t believe he’s comfortable. Peter’s head was on the reactor and his arms tightened around him. “I’ll be here in the morning, Underoos, and you can have all the hugs you want,” Tony said while patting Peter’s back. “Come on, I’ll walk you to your door.”

They walked down the hallway with Peter glued to his side and stopped outside his door. “Good night, Peter,” Tony said. 

“Good night Mr. Stark, see you tomorrow.” Peter looked at him with an unsure expression and then crawled into his room. 

I’m surprised he didn’t go in for another hug. And I wonder how many emotional moments we need to go through before he calls me anything other than Mr. Stark. Instead of walking into his bedroom for sleep, Tony went into his office. “Friday call Happy.” 

“How’s it going, Tones? Kid doing well?”

And he pretends he doesn’t care about the kid. “It was a very emotional evening that I don’t want to repeat. With that in mind I want this alien weapons thing to be your top priority.”

“We’ll try, but we’re still putting together the move, and it might take-”

“Happy, you really want to give the kid another shot at this? Because next time I think he’ll die.”

“Tony…”

“He’s already been injured at least three times, and those are the ones I know about. Today was a result of him chasing the weapons and Big Bird. And you and I both know he’ll keep doing it until it’s dealt with. Something needs to be done and you’re going to do it.”

Happy sighed loudly, “I’ll see what I can do.”

“You’ll figure it out,” Tony said and hung up. He collapsed in his chair and his holo screen appeared. He sat and stared at the dozens of articles and videos of his kid. Well Stark, better get ready for another sleepless night. 

It took longer than Tony would have liked to get information back on the weapons guy. Happy is always thorough, I’ll give him that. The file was as thick as a science textbook and it had good news in it. He needed to discuss this with someone. “Friday, contact Rhodey.”

“Hey man, it’s been too long,” Rhodey said with a laugh. 

“You called me last Saturday.”

“Still nice to hear from you. Especially since a little birdie told me that you and Pepper are back together.”

“Let me guess, the little birdie’s name is an emotion he never is?”

“Yep, but I know you didn’t call to talk about that. Something is bugging you and I bet it’s the bug you have. I saw him on the news.”

“For one thing, he’s an arachnid. And for another thing, yes. He and his friend found some alien weapon and modified it so it could track other weapons to try to figure out where more of them are and track down a man in a metal bird suit that almost killed him.”

“Ah, so he didn’t listen to you when you said it was above his pay grade and you’d take care of it.”

“Yep.”

“Well, Mamma always said she hoped you’d have one just like you.”

“No, she said a dozen just like me so they could torture me with the grief that she went through.” Tony sat at his desk chair and held his head in both his hands. “I should call her. Tell her how sorry I am.”

“I’m sure she’d appreciate it. She says you don’t call her enough.”

I really don’t. They laughed before silence surrounded them again. “I don’t know what to do, Rhodey. I’ve created AI, I’ve taken down super villains, I’ve solved problems that have taken men a hundred years. I’m a genus. And I don’t know what to do.”

“Did you talk to him about it? Set more boundaries?”

“The other day, when he told me what he and his friend did, he said that he had to go out there because if someone was out there collecting weapons and catching cars his uncle and aunt would still be alive. You know how hard it is to scold someone when they say something like that? And no matter what I say, he’s still going to feel like he needs to get this guy.”

“Sounds like someone I know. Do you have a plan?”

“The FBI has a sting set up for a Thursday at noon, when the kid is in school. It also happens to be the week before Easter, so I figure it’ll be a good time for him and Pepper to meet. Make it so he isn’t even thinking about the alien weapons. Maybe we could all spend the holidays together.”

“Sounds nice. Make sure to call me that day so I can hear if the kid likes his new stepmom. But you’re not going to tell him about the sting?”

“Not until afterwards. Maybe the weekend if it doesn’t make it to the news.”

“And you think that is the best way to go about this?”

“It’s the best idea I have. There’s no book for this. Kid has been orphaned twice over and is the world's youngest known superhero. Maybe I should write one, make it easier for the next guy.” Tony paused and hesitated on saying the next part. “I was thinking that since my classes start next week, they may help sort these things out too.”

“Classes? For what? You need another PhD?”

“They make you take classes to become a foster parent.”

There was a beat of silence and Tony could hear Rhodey’s smile. “And you told me I wasn’t an uncle. Congratulations, it’s a boy.”

I’m definitely going to have to call Mamma Rhodes now. “Happy already made that joke months ago. Get better material.”

“Doesn’t make it any less true.”

“I guess so.”

Sometimes Tony thought back to when he met Peter Parker last year and how different things were. Cho assured Tony that he was the healthiest he’s been in years, the company was doing well, and his personal relationships were healthy. As far as Tony could tell, Peter was doing a lot better than last year as well. His hair was cut, he was the right weight, he talked more, and the most striking change was the increase in physical contact. After the Washington Monument, Tony didn’t have to have to worry about a hand on his shoulder or ruffling the kid’s hair. Sometimes before Peter left for school, he would give Tony a half hug. 

The kid was still hesitant for a full hug or a touch specifically on his upper arm, but they were working on it. Happy even said that he’d seen Peter and his friend hug on occasion, and he’d shake Happy’s hand given the chance. Things felt like they were coming together in a way they never had before. And despite the constant threat of aliens killing them and the knowledge he had to meet up with his old team in a few months, Tony felt good.

Today was extra good considering he was able to see Pepper in her office earlier and later that night, he walked back into the penthouse with a new chip in his wallet. As soon as the elevator doors opened, he saw his kid hanging upside down from the ceiling with a smile on his face.

“Hey Mr. Stark, happy three months!” Peter said. 

“Thanks kid, it feels good. You have dinner yet?” Tony asked as he walked to the kitchen.

“No, I was waiting for you.” Peter flipped down and followed him. “I also um-” Instead of finishing his sentence, Peter shyly handed Tony a hand knit hat that was a bright highlighter yellow and firetruck red, the colors were so grating it was almost hard to look at. The stitching was uneven and some of the knots were pulled, but it felt soft. 

I could never imagine giving Howard something like this. Tony stood there stared at the gift. 

“It’s okay if you don’t like it. I know it’s not that great, and I’m going to make you another one, but I wanted to give you the first one,” Peter said quickly. 

“Nah, Pete, it’s perfect.” Tony put it on his head along with a pair of sunglasses. “Look at this, perfect disguise, right? We could go out for ice cream or something one day.”

Peter looked mortified for a moment before covering it up with a smirk. “I don’t know about that Mr. Stark. You look like an aged hipster. So, normal, I guess.”

First the kid is embarrassed to have Iron Man call him out from school now he doesn’t want to be seen with me in public. Tony snorted, “you know, I think I should get a second opinion on that. Good thing I’m going to see Pepper at a meeting tomorrow. And I can’t wait to tell her my number one intern made it for me.”

The mortified face came back. “You look fantastic. So good that it should only be worn around the penthouse.”

“Or else I’d win People magazine’s sexiest man again, eh?”

“Sure. And you know-you don’t want to distract Ms. Potts.”

“Oh, now that is an excellent reason to wear this hat tomorrow. If it makes you feel better kiddo, I’ll keep the glasses off.”

“Then all the attention will be drawn to the hat!”

Tony ruffled Peter’s hair and laughed. It’s too fun to mess with him sometimes. “You bet. I won’t tell them you made it either. I’m sure no one will notice.” 

“Everyone will notice,” Peter huffed as he face planted into the countertop. 

“Better be careful with that stone, don’t want to break it with your hard head. Now, let’s order out.”

Despite Karen’s protests, they had a nice meal of about two White Castle 30 burger carve cases with many sides of onion rings and fries. God, this reminds me of being drunk at college at four in the morning. The kid happily stuffed his face and told him about his time at school and Spiderman. Definitely better than college. 

Before they went to bed, Peter begged him to not wear the hat to the meeting, to which Tony denied. He begged again the next morning before he left for school, but now Tony was determined. I wasn’t actually going to wear it, but now I feel I have to. 

It was funny to see everyone’s face when they walked into the meeting room. Especially Pepper’s, now that they were on good terms. She zeroed in on the hat and her left eye twitched slightly. Like the other meetings, it was hard to keep his eyes off her, and this time it was returned because her gaze kept on him. Wow, I guess the kid was right. She can’t take her eyes off me.

If the employees of SI didn’t know they were back together now, they definitely did now. He could tell from all the eye rolls, uncomfortable shifting, and knowing smiles. I know the books say the children shouldn’t see mommy and daddy fight, but what about eye sex? “Mr. Stark, would you mind staying for a moment?” Pepper asked when the meeting was over.

“Of course, Miss Potts.” As his employees left the room, he heard a few of them say something about a bet that made him grin. 

As soon as the last person left and the door closed, Pepper began to speak. “That’s a very interesting hat you’re wearing, may I remind you this is a business meeting?”

“Thank you for the compliment, Miss Potts, but it’s still a little chilly here in New York. I think I should wear it to all the meetings.” 

Pepper took a deep breath and exhaled loudly. “You know, I almost expected you to keep the level of professionalism you had for the last couple weeks.”

“My name is on the company, if I wear a hat at a meeting, it’s appropriate.” This isn’t even close to the worst thing I’ve ever done in a meeting.

They both got out of their chairs and Pepper reached out to him and felt the hat. “Where did you even get this thing anyway?”

“Don’t be too hard on it. Someone special made it for me.”

Immediately Pepper’s hand dropped from his head and she took a step back. “If this is your way of telling me that you’re seeing someone else, I might actually kill you. I’ll go into your lab, get one of your blasters, and kill you.”

“C’mon, Pep, I’m a one woman at time for a relationship kind of man. And you’re the only woman for me.” If only the people from that talk show could hear me now. 

A small smile came back to her face. “Good, so I don’t need to murder you in cold blood.”

“I don’t think you’d get away with murdering one of the most influential men on the planet.”

Her fingers toyed with the edge of his jacket. “I bet I could. That’s the perk of being one of the most influential women on the planet. And Friday would cover for me, right?”

“Of course, Ms. Potts,” Friday responded immediately.  

All the A.Is turn on me. “You know I’m glad you asked me to stay back because I also had something to discuss with you too.”

“Sorry Tony, it’ll have to wait until later, I need to get to my next meeting in ten. But I’ll see you later.” She gave him a peck on the cheek and her hand slid down his arm as she exited the room.  

Hate to see her leave but love to watch her go. Tony laughed to himself and ginned with a realization. She didn’t say we weren’t together. 

Yeah, life was going well. 

Chapter Text

Life was going well. 

Which was pretty suspicious because life had been going well for months. The shortest amount of time between Peter’s life tragedies was about six months and the longest four years. So really, he could have many more months of peace before something goes wrong, but it felt like something was going to happen. Something catastrophic. The feeling wasn’t in a spider sense way, but in a Peter Parker type way.    

Usually, the feeling went away when he was at school, out Spidermanning, or with Mr. Stark, but tonight he was home alone. Well, not quite alone. “I think you should eat, Peter. You still need another thousand calories to meet your goal for today and I’d like you to meet other nutritional requirements like vitamin B and D,” Karen said in her motherly tone.

“I want to wait for Mr. Stark to get back,” Peter responded. It was a school night, and it was pouring outside, so Peter had decided to come in from Spidermanning early. Mr. Stark said he was at a meeting, but Peter knew his mentor only had AA on Sundays and no SI meetings past four. That leaves one thing. “Friday, why doesn’t Mr. Stark want me to know him and Ms. Potts are back together?”

“I cannot confirm or deny that they are together again,” Friday said.

Peter dramatically sighed and laid down on the kitchen island. “I thought we were getting closer, you know? Like, he would tell me about things like this that would affect our lives.” He’s been dropping hints, sure, but he hasn’t told me anything directly.

“You do not tell him everything that is going on in your life,” Friday pointed out. 

Ouch. That was kinda harsh coming from her. “Yeah, but this is kinda different,” Peter said in a small voice. 

“It’s something you don’t understand, Friday,” Karen said. “It’s alright Peter, he’ll tell you when he’s ready.”

“You say that as though you understand something I do not which is not possible for we are the same,” Friday said.

“Ha,” Karen laughed in her almost human voice. “I’m you but better.”

“Karen! That’s really rude of you to say, even if it is a meme,” Peter scolded. “Sorry Friday, I’m sure she didn’t mean it.” Everyone in the penthouse was silent and Peter waited for a response as he stared up to the pictures on the ceiling. “Karen, c’mon.”

“Right, apologies, sister,” Karen said annoyed. 

“Noted,” Friday said, just as stiffly. 

I’m still not sure how to feel about this. Peter moved so he was curled into a ball on the countertop. This doesn’t feel better either. From the island he jumped to his webs. Being surrounded calmed his body agitation but didn’t help his mind. Mr. Stark goes to a lot of meetings now. And now that he’s with Ms. Potts... “Friday, what was Mr. Stark’s schedule before everything? Was he always so busy?” 

“Mr. Stark is a very busy man,” Friday responded neutrally. 

I really shouldn’t have expected any different. It was nice while it lasted. 

“Even with the inclusion of Ms. Potts and SI duties in his life, Tony will have time for you,” Karen said gently. “And no matter what I’ll always be there for you. I love you.”

Peter started changing the web pictures to have more of an Easter theme. “Thanks Karen, I love you too.” She's right, Mr. Stark wouldn't just forget about me.

On normal nights, Peter liked to call Ned and let him watch his activities and so they could talk. It helped boring patrols go by faster and it ensured that he got to talk to his friend, something they didn’t always get to do at school. Tonight, was not a normal night. It’s been too long since I’ve seen or heard of anyone with their weapons. They’d have to make a sale, soon right? Or else they’d go out of business. That means they have to do another hit for stolen parts. Who can I talk to that could give me information on them?

And that was the line of reasoning that caused Peter to find himself looking down at the ring again. Mac was busy announcing the matches, of course, but Peter wasn’t here for him tonight. He watched as people yelled and screamed as the men in the arena wrestled for dominance. One was a seven-foot muscular man with two-inch claws and clothing reminiscent of shaggy brown fur. The other was a smaller, but just as muscular man, that had on a wolf head mask with ears that moved. 

“And Grizzly slices Man-wolf’s back to shreds!” Mac yelled. Grizzly picked up his opponent and slammed him into the electrified cage. The buzz from the electricity was already unsettling enough but hearing someone howl in pain from it was exponentially worse. The crowd enjoyed it though, as they cheered when Man-wolf fell face first to the floor and struggled to get back up. I’m so glad I’m not down there right now. While Mac was giving the count, Peter shimmied into another area. Peter knocked on the vent grate before entering. 

“I’m decent, you can come down,” said a sultry voice. 

Peter carefully dislodged the metal and crawled down to a faded pink chaise lounge. On the nights with less impressive fighters, the arena officials would bring in a form of halftime entertainment. At that point the cage wasn’t there to keep the fighters in, it was there to keep the spectators out. There was only one woman in the dressing room tonight because one woman was all they needed to get the men outside panting. “Ms. Hardy, it’s been too long.”

“You know I want you to call me Felicia, Ms. Hardy makes me sound old, which I’m definitely not,” Felicia said as she turned to him. Beautiful was a word that could describe Felicia, sexy is another, and depressing was what Peter would use. She was tall, pale, and her large chest was what brought most of the men outside closer to the electric shocks of the cage. For Peter, the most striking thing about her was the multitude of criss crossing lined scars all over her limbs and face. 

“Maybe I do it just to annoy you.” 

“Wouldn’t surprise me.” Felicia ran a brush through her long white hair to get the tangles out. “What do I owe this visit to, Spider? I haven’t violated my parole and the other charges against me have been dropped.”

“Actually, I came for a favor.”

“Most men who come to my chambers do.” As her arms moved to brush her hair the pink sheer jacket with fur lining, she wore moved with it. Under the jacket she only had on a black lacy bra and matching underwear. 

“Gross, no! I need information on someone. There’s this guy who wears a wing suit and sells alien weapons. Do you know anything about him?”

“Nothing that’s worth a hit on my life. He’s a very dangerous man that I do not want to be on the bad side of.”

Understandable. “What about...Aaron Davis, you ever heard of him?” That guy might know where birdman is. 

Felicia hummed and put more foundation over her scars. “What’s in it for me?”

“The knowledge you’ll be keeping alien weapons off the streets that would ruin countless lives and cause untold expensive infrastructure damage.”

“Not interested.” 

Never change, Felicia. “How about a nice evening out at Biagio’s Italian restaurant? I know you haven’t been treated well in a while.”

“Someone gets a new suit and doesn’t show up for months and suddenly he can speak in full sentences and bribe lovely young women,” Felicia said as she lit a cigarette. “You become a kept boy?”

In a way, I kinda-nope nope nope. “Just got a good job.”

“Well, you better keep it because I want more than one dinner. Davis moves around a lot, he has money problems, like the rest of us. Currently, he’s in Jamaica and does some municipal work in between stick ups. Nice guy, big cock, and cares about his family.”

Maybe change a little. “Thank you for...most of that information.”

“Of course, kid.” Felicia took one last drag on her cigarette and put it out. “Just don’t forget about me again.” 

“Never did. How could anyone?” Peter watched her apply blood red lipstick and do the final touches of her make up. “You know Felicia, I can help you, if you want.”

“Thanks,” Felicia scoffed, “but there ain’t no helping me.”

“I don’t believe that.”

She rose from a chair and stretched. “Glad someone does.” Felicia sauntered to the door; the sheer material floated softly off the ground as she progressed.  

Peter shook his head and crawled back into the ventilation. As he shimmied out, he heard the cheers and jeers of the men and tried to tune them out. I hope one day she realizes it can get better. 

It’s too late to try to find Davis, might as well scope out the area though. He went around Jamaica and stopped a couple muggers while he was there. “I don’t want you to go back there, Peter. It’s not good for you,” Karen said as he sat on top of a building to scout. 

“You need to respect where you came from, Karen.”

“You shouldn’t see that violence and I don’t like how that woman operates.”

I hope Mr. Stark will help me set up a reservation at Biagio’s for my dinner date. “I see violence every day, and don’t be like that with Felicia, she’s rough but she’s good.”

“She’s a hooker who is on drugs that moonlights as a cat burglar.”

“First off, Felicia is a good person, who has changed a lot. She's not on heroine anymore. And we all do what we have to so we can eat every day. If I wasn’t able to meet ends meet before I met Mr. Stark, I don’t even know what I would have done.”

“I don’t understand why you defend her.”

“We’re a lot more alike than you think. And you’re being awfully rude lately, is there anything going on?” 

“There is nothing wrong with my code or where I’m housed. I’m trying to figure things out,” Karen answered.      

He started to scale down the parking garage headfirst to get to the ground. “Like wha-oh! Karen! Is that him?” 

The drone deployed from his suit to get a closer look. “The image from Droney confirms that is Aaron Davis.”

I guess it’s not so late at night for him to be out. Peter crawled into the garage and waited until Davis opened his trunk to drop in and web his hand to the car. Alright, alright, you can do this. You just need to ask him a few questions. Peter tried to make himself seem bigger and his footsteps heavier as he approached. “Aaron Davis, do you remember me?”

“Woah, man I don’t want any trouble,” Davis said. One hand was up in a calm down signal and the other tried to pull away, but the webbing stopped him. 

“I need to know who was selling you those alien weapons. I need names. And you're going to give them to me,” Peter said in a hard voice. 

Davis straightened and slammed his trunk closed, which caused Peter to flinch and take a step back. “You don’t do this very often do you?” Davis asked rhetorically in a harsher voice.

Peter kept his puffed-up appearance for a beat longer before lowering his shoulders. “Look, you and I both saw those alien weapons, they’re crazy. One of them cut Delmar’s Bodega in half-.”

“You know Delmar’s?” Davis asked in a calmer voice.

“Of course, best sandwich shop in Queens.”

“Subhaven’s pretty good.”

“What? Too much bread.”

“I like bread,” Davis said with a shrug. 

“Come on man, please.” 

Aaron Davis just stood there and stared at him.  

“You’ve used the same tactic two other times. You need better material,” Karen whispered in his ear. 

Peter stiffened. “Karen, shhhhh. I’m trying my best,” Peter whispered. 

“Karen?” Davis asked with a little amusement in his tone, “what, you got your mom helping you out with this?”

“She’s not my-you know what? I can find out somewhere else,” Peter said as he turned away. Maybe if I bribe Felicia enough, I’ll be able to get more information about him. 

“The other night, you saved me from getting shot and you went after those guys even with their guns pointed directly at you. That’s pretty ballsy.” Davis sighed. “I don’t want those weapons in this neighborhood either, I got a nephew who lives here.”

Peter quickly turned back around and walked closer to the car. “Who are these guys? What can you tell me about the guy with the wings?”

“He’s a psychopath that dresses like a demon and calls himself the Vulture. Other than that? Nothing,” Davis supplied. 

“Ugh,” Peter said and leaned against the car. 

“But I do know where he’s going to be.”

“Really?!”

“Yeah, this crazy dude I used to work with is doing a deal with him.”

“Yes! Finally, something on this guy,” Peter said and he began walking away.   

“Hey!” Davis called to him, “get back over here, I didn’t tell you a location.

Immediately, Peter turned back. “Right sorry, just got a little excited. Where can I find him?”

“You need to get better at this part of your job, kid. Staten Island Ferry, eleven o’clock this Thursday. Got it?”

I can’t believe it! I finally got the information I needed! “Yeah, yeah I got it! Thank you so much. I need to prepare!”

“Hey, wait, you gotta do something about this,” Davis said as he tried to pull his hand away from the car trunk. 

“It’ll be gone in two hours.”

“Dude, I have ice cream in here.”

That caused Peter to turn back around briefly. “I’m really sorry about that, but you’re kinda a criminal, so you probably deserve it.”

“I don’t deserve melted ice cream!”

“Sorry!” Peter called out as he shot his web onto another building. 

“That went well,” Karen said sarcastically. “It’s a good thing most of these people have a decent enough conscience to give you information. I can’t imagine if you talked to any hard-core criminals.”

“Don’t be like that, I panicked a little bit, okay? And you know what Bob Ross says: there are no mistakes, only happy accidents.”

“What happened to Mr. Cool and Confident with the Cat?” Karen teased.

“It was different, I know Felicia!”

“Your first real interrogation, Tony would be proud. I should tell him so he can put some stills in a frame.”

“Karen stoooppppppp,” Peter whined as he swung to the tower. 

It always felt weird to be outside on a school day. Like he was breaking the law and it felt dirty, even if all he did was cut school. It felt worse today because both Mr. Stark and Happy went to great lengths to make his morning amazing with a big breakfast and Mr. Stark even rode with him to school even though he had a huge meeting in a couple hours. Before Peter left the car, Mr. Stark also assured him that he had to come straight home so they could work on a brand-new Spiderman suit!

So, saying it was going to be a big day was an understatement. 

I hope none of the teachers call Mr. Stark once they notice I’m gone. The goal was to get there, stop the deal from going through, web up the bad guys, and get back to school before he misses too much class. No one would even have to know he was there. And then hope no press picks up the story. I doubt it, since it doesn't have any cute kids or baby animals in it. 

Slipping out of school was easy enough, no teacher would stop him from going to the bathroom or the nurse and it didn’t take much time to swing to the ferry either. “Karen, let me know if you see anyone suspicious.” Now, it’s just a waiting game. Peter carefully made his way around the ship and surveyed the passengers.  

Spiderman climbed to the upper deck of the ferry and peered down on a small group of men dressed in black segregated from the rest of the passengers. This is suspicious. One of the men took out a pair of keys which Peter yoinked out of his hand immediately. “Little early for the alien weapons deal guys!”

The men all looked up in surprise before Spiderman jumped down to the lower deck. They drew their guns, but his spider senses were faster. With a TWIP, webbing attached to them and with a wave of his arm, they were thrown in the other direction. Spiderman’s senses buzzed and he ducked as a man with an electric charged fist tried to punch him. The first three guys tried to get up again, but Spiderman webbed them again and threw them against the metal of the ship. The men groaned and didn’t move. “Oh, sorry guys that seemed a little hard.” 

Is it over already? The guys who were involved were either moaning on the ground in pain or webbed up. “Wow, I gotta say the last guys, with the van, they were much better. I’m kinda shocked,” Spiderman said as he flicked away his web canisters and put in new ones. “Get it? Shocked?”

He turned his head down ship where all the cars were kept when he heard grunting and a head being slammed into a car window. The aggressor was a blond man of average height who turned to run away as he saw Spiderman. Still one more! Spiderman went to give chase, but only took one step. 

“Freeze! FBI!” More agents came out of a side door of the ship, all with drawn guns. “FBI get down!”

“Woah, what do you mean FBI?”

“Federal Bureau of Investigation, come on Peter, you know this,” Karen laughed in his ear. 

“Not the time Karen!”

From behind them, a pair of wings burst through a van like a horrible imitation of birth and a pair of glowing green eyes fell on Peter. Oh my God. The FBI agents pointed their guns to the Vulture, who floated in the air. His full wingspan filled all the space available and he either dodged or deflected the bullets that were shot at him as he flew towards them. 

“Get out of the way!” Peter shouted at the agents, but none of them listened. The Vulture continued to fly at them, and a purple glow emanated from his gun. It doesn’t look like he’s going to stop! He’ll definitely kill them! “Get out of the way!” Still, no one listened, so Peter pushed the agents out of the way and took the brunt of a car the bird threw at him. 

When the agents shot their guns before, it was loud, but when the car ran into him and Peter was thrown against a support pole, it caused his ears to ring. “Get to the top deck!” the Vulture yelled, “we’re getting out of here!” He shot another purple laser at the deck that knocked Spiderman down so one of his cronies could start running away.

In response, Peter tried to web the man, but a purple blast shot through his strings. Guess I’ll have to take out the big boss first. Spiderman shot his webs at the Vulture’s feet and tried to anchor him to a few cars. Come on, just like in Jaws! And just like in Jaws, it didn’t help much because the Vulture was still able to move around and cut away his webs with his wings. 

The Vulture kept trying to shoot Spiderman with the alien weapon causing him to jump around the ship. One of the purple blasts hit him right over his heart. It caused a part of the suit to disintegrate and knocked the wind out of him. It hurt like hell as the burn pulsed with energy, but he had to keep moving so he wasn’t shot again. 

This has to end now! Spiderman shot a piece of web onto the gun. “Karen, taser web!”

“Now someone likes all the options, huh?” Karen said as electricity bolted through the material. It shorted out the Vulture’s wings and made him finally let go of the gun. It landed a few feet behind Spiderman and started firing erratically. 

Quickly, Spiderman encased it and got it to still in one place. Just trap it like a rat. It’ll still struggle, but it’ll stop in a few minutes. 

“You’re messing with things you don’t understand,” the Vulture screeched down at him. 

“So are you, bird guy!” Spiderman yelled back. At that moment, the gun made a high-pitched whirring noise and Peter looked back at it just at the time to see it shoot out a beam of purple energy that cut through the ENTIRE SHIP.  

Peter heard the Vulture fly away as he saw water spring up from the middle of the boat. One side of the ferry already began to list, and innocent bystanders were screaming. “Ah! Karen, show me the strongest supports of the ship!” An x-ray image flooded his eyes and Peter worked off instinct and adrenalin to get portions of string on everything. He flipped and swung through the air, shot web grenades, and felt portions of the charred ship graze his suit. 

Eventually--it was only a minute--Spiderman landed on the other side of the ferry and attempted to catch his breath. It seemed as though everything was frozen.

“Good job, Peter. You webbed ninety-eight percent of the structures. A plus.”

“Ninety-eight?” Peter asked in a weak voice. 

“Statistically, it should be fine. The odds are in your favor-”

Karen was cut off by the snapping of the support webs he put in. “Karen, the odds are NEVER in my favor!” Peter yelled frantically. “Nononononono!”

As more snapped, water invaded all available space, car alarms were going off, and the screams of civilians returned. In a last-ditch effort, Peter jumped in the middle of the increasing gap between the two sides of the ship and tried to hold it together with nothing but his webs, enhanced strength, and determination. “AH!”

It feels like I’m being split apart! It was like his mussels were an extension of his webs. I wonder which one will snap first because I’m not letting go! Amazingly, just as Peter thought he was going to be ripped in two, the pieces of the ferry began to meld together. He fell from the air and onto the floor and looked out of a window straight to his savior. 

“Hello, Spiderman,” Mr. Stark said. “You’re supposed to be in school.”

Peter ignored the remark and darted outside and swung around the ferry. “Karen, are there any points I need to secure?” 

“You’ve done enough, Peter,” Mr. Stark said through the comms.   

That does not sound proud. “I can still do something!”

“I. Said. Enough. Go home, I’ll deal with you later.”

As soon as they were close enough to land, Peter swung to a nearby rooftop to observe the ferry as it got dragged into the harbor. “You tried your best, Peter,” Karen said gently in his ear. I can’t hear this. He ripped off his mask and his eyes didn’t leave the boat. 

After some time, Iron Man flew away from the scene of the commotion and straight to him. Friday is getting really good at piloting it. I wonder if she’s becoming more human like Karen. “I know I told you to go home. Why aren’t you there?” Mr. Stark asked in a flat voice. 

“I wanted to make sure...was everyone alright?” Peter said, still looking at the ferry. 

“Yeah, they were. But this is a big screw up Peter. Bigger than accidentally blowing up an empty bodega or even the Washington Monument.”

“I know, but I had to-”

“No, you don’t!” Iron Man shouted. “We’ve had this conversation before!”

Peter kept his head down and didn’t look up at his mentor. “I know and I’m sorry.”

“Are you? Because I think if you were, we wouldn’t be going through this again.”

Finally, Peter was able to look up to the suit. “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.”

“Of course, you didn’t, but it did.”

“What-what did you want me to do? Sit back and do nothing?”

“Yes, I told you that I would deal with it.”

Anger steadily seeped into Peter’s body. “Really? Like you said last time? Before the Washington Monument. How was I supposed to know you actually ordered something to be done from your ivory tower?”

“Orders from my ivory tower? And you say I need new materials for my sayings.” Iron Man said as he continued to circle Peter. “I was doing things from behind the scenes as your mentor.”

“Why not just tell me what was going on? How long did you know about this?” Why wouldn’t he tell me about this? He knows how much this means to me. 

“Long enough, and I didn’t tell you because you would have gone out and done this anyway.”

“At least I would have gone out!” Peter bit out. “You can’t even get in that suit.”

“Friday, disengage.” Iron Man landed, the suit folded into itself, and Tony Stark stepped out. He was a far cry from the man that couldn’t get into his suit when Peter had been dropped in the Hudson. Mr. Stark looked completely back together and on the top of his game. “Peter, I tried, I really tried to be careful with all of this. I’m taking away your suit.”

It felt like he was dropped in the middle of Hudson again and Peter stood up. “You can’t!”

“Yes, I can. It’s my suit.”

“That guy, the Vulture, he’s still out there. He still needs to be caught so something like this can’t happen again.”

“Yeah, and I’ll deal with it again. You’re off the case. You’re off all the cases right now. I can’t risk you getting hurt because you seem to have a problem with staying safe.”  

Where is this coming from? He’s never said anything about me getting hurt before. “Why does that matter?!” 

“Don’t say that crap to me, Parker!” Mr. Stark yelled over him. 

“I only say it because it’s true! I’ll heal, it’s no big deal!” I always heal and it’s not like it hurts that much anymore.

Mr. Stark slowly took steps towards him. “It’s a big deal when you sneak out of school. It’s a big deal when you intentionally ignore me. It is a big deal that you got hurt and keep getting hurt. And it is especially a big deal when there is a chance that you could have been fucking killed!”

As his mentor approached, Peter took steps back.  

“Now, I’m going to say this again and this time you’re going to listen to me: go home.” Mr. Stark said in a low voice with barely contained anger. “I need to stay here and deal with the upset FBI agents that are on board. I’ll deal with you when I get back.”

“Okay, Tony.” Peter wanted to say more, but it felt like his throat was closing, so instead he webbed away. In his ear, Karen kept whispering, “it’s okay. Everything is going to be okay.” He only let himself cry when he was in the safety of the penthouse. 

May came out of her nest and stared up at him when he crawled into his room, but he ignored her and changed out of his burned suit. Then he folded it and placed it at the end of his bed. What am I going to do now? How am I going to convince him to let me be Spiderman? What else would I do? Sit in the penthouse all day?

His body brought him to the island in the kitchen and once he came out of his thoughts, Peter sat down at the bar. The burn on his chest hurt, but he didn’t move to get out the medical supplies. Mr. Stark is so angry. What is he going to do when he gets back? He put his elbows on the counter and his head between his arms, so his hands covered his ears. What’s going to happen? What is he going to do? What am I going to do?

Someone cleared their throat. 

Oh no, how can he be back already?! Peter raised his head, expecting to see his mentor, but instead stood Ms. Potts. He flinched as she took a step forward. 

“Hello,” Ms. Potts said carefully, “I’m Virginia Potts, who are you?” She was the perfect image of poise with flawless hair and make-up. And when he flinched, she stood firm in her spot, but didn’t give up any ground. 

“Pe-peter Parker, ma’am,” Peter answered. His voice shook just as much as his body and even he could hear how frightened he sounded. 

“It’s nice to meet you, Peter. Now can you tell me why you’re here?”

“I’m Mr. Stark’s intern,” Peter said as he shrunk into himself. At least I hope I still am. “He-um, he told me to come here.”

“In the middle of the school day?” Ms. Potts’ questioned. 

What do I say? What do I say? What do I say? What do I say? Instead of answering, Peter looked down to the countertop. JUST SAY SOMETHING!

“It’s okay honey, you don’t need to be scared. You just need to tell me if Ton-Mr. Stark has been,” Ms. Potts took a deep shaky breath, “if Mr. Stark has been hurting you. In any way.”

Peter’s head shot up and looked at her with wide eyes. “No! No, he’s never hurt me, I swear. He’s not like-he’s not-” Not like Skip or Mr. Dickenson. She sounded like the policewoman who took his statement after Skip and how his CPS worker sounded when he went to his first group home. 

Ms. Potts released a shaky breath. “Okay, do you know where he is?”

“He’s still at the ferry. He said he’d be back after he dealt with it.” Deals with the thing I messed up. And make sure no one was killed or injured because of me. 

“And when he gets here, we need to prepare for a press conference.” She paused and looked at him with kindness and compassion. “I think you should go home while we do that. Is there anyone I can call for you?”

She obviously doesn’t know who I am. Or that I’m Spiderman and I live here. “No, there’s no one.”

Her face looked somber, but not surprised. “And there is nowhere else you can go?”   

“Please, please don’t make me leave,” Peter begged. Don’t make me leave the only place I feel safe. 

She took a couple steps closer to him and this time Peter didn’t flinch. “I’m sorry, but Mr. Stark and I need to prepare for the press. It’s going to be a disaster and I can’t risk anyone seeing you and jumping to conclusions.”

After the whole Washington Monument deal, Mr. Stark and Happy had taken him aside and given Peter a crash course on the media and the full extent of what they could do. “Never trust a reporter,” Happy warned. “Yeah kid, they’ll take your words and twist them to meet their own agenda. They make saints into demons and devils into angels,” Mr. Stark added. 

Sure, Mr. Stark had been feeding Peter, clothing him, and giving him a place to live, but it was innocent. But to a normal person, it sounded like he was a kept boy, as Felicia would say.   

Heck, it took Peter months to calm down and realize that he was completely safe with Mr. Stark and truly believe it. It was one of Ms. Potts’ first assumption and even Ned would carefully skirt around the topic on occasion. If the people closest to them found this suspicious, Peter knew for a fact what the media would do to Mr. Stark. It almost made him want to go to the bathroom to throw up. 

“I’ll get going,” Peter said as he slipped from the chair. “I just need to grab a few things.” He avoided her worried look and walked down the hallway. 

“I’ll call Happy, our head of security, to drive you home,” Ms. Potts said as he neared his room. 

Peter crawled into his room and went to the closet for his old, torn backpack. When he first got the room, he put some clothes, snacks, and his old phone in it just in case. I never thought I would use this again. Next to his Spiderman suit, he placed the Stark Phone and watch that Mr. Stark gave him on the bed. If I’m not Spiderman or Mr. Stark’s intern anymore, if I take these things, I’d be stealing. 

I don’t want to be in a car with Happy. He was about to leave when his eyes landed on Spider May and her enclosure. Peter stroked her enclosure, so she’d come out, his eyes became blurry as he looked at her. He threw in one last cricket to her and watched her hunt. There’s no way I can take her with me. I don’t know how I’ll support myself and the difference in husbandry would definitely kill her. Hopefully someone will look after her when I’m gone. “I love you May.” He gently placed her enclosure outside his door, slung his backpack over his shoulder, and headed to the roof. 

And he cried the whole way down.  

It took a while, but Peter finally reached the point where the tower was just part of the vague city skyline, one that he could only make out with his enhanced vision. Afterwards, he collapsed on a random roof and thought about where he could go. No way I can go back to Mr. Dickenson’s and I could stay over at Ned’s house, but the thought of explaining all this to him will make me throw up. And that’s not a permanent solution. 

I could try to find another abandoned house. Maybe set up another fix up business, but what if that company tries to hire me again? And when I refuse, they’ll just tear it down again. I don’t think I could go through that again. I could ask Mac or Felicia, but I don’t want them to know who I am outside of the mask. Besides, I doubt they’d take me in anyway. 

I can’t think of anyone else who would. 

The water treatment facility was just as he remembered it. It was still abandoned, thankfully, so he didn’t have to contend with any other homeless people. In the back, there was an office, up a set of stairs. It was high up that it made his senses calm down. I’ll have to destroy the stairs later to make it safer. Peter shot webbing into a far corner and crawled into it. He clutched his backpack to his chest, over his healing wound, as he curled into the webbing.  

I guess this is the best thing I can hope for now. He was completely alone. The room was dark because there were no working lights in or around the building. The prevailing smells were dust, wet drywall, and machine parts. He could only hear the dripping of water, the scurrying of rats, and his own breathing. 

He was completely alone, and it was devastating.   

The big day was finally approaching, and Tony had a damn good plan to deal with it, if he did say so himself. Tony had started talking about Pepper casually around Peter, so the kid would become more comfortable with the idea of her. Since the ferry sting was going to go down on Thursday, he packed Peter’s schedule before and after school. Tony would even go with Happy to drop him off.

Tony would go to work, Peter to school, and then after that they would go to the lab and Tony would introduce the Iron Spider suit. The kid would be so happy, and they would work on it for hours. They would have dinner and watch a movie. Not the news, just in case the weapons seizure was covered and hopefully at that point, Happy would contact him and say that it went well, and birdman along with his cronies were in prison. 

Phase two of his plan would come on Saturday. If Peter asked about the raid at any time, Tony would casually mention that the FBI took care of it and it would be a nice life lesson on trusting authority figures and other people. But Saturday was so important because he’d invited Pepper to come to his lab to see the next big thing Tony was preparing for the public. And she would walk into them working on the Iron Spider suit. 

It would be a great way to introduce Pepper and Peter. Peter would probably be all shy and embarrassed but come out of his shell once Tony explained that the kid was the one to help him with the clean energy improvements. Pepper would undoubtedly be impressed and at that moment Peter would have the choice to tell her that he is Spiderman. Even if he didn’t it would be a nice first meeting. 

Tony could picture it all playing out in his head. Afterwards, hopefully Pepper would agree to come around more often and Peter would get used to her and maybe they’d spend Easter together. If Pepper wasn’t busy. Maybe they could even go to Mamma Rhodes’ house and they could all make the Stark family ravioli. I know I’m branching a bit, but fuck. Can’t I have this? After everything, why can’t I have this?

The scenario Tony made was enough to keep any nightmares away for the days leading up to Thursday. It’s a great plan, genius, if I do say so myself.  

This is the worst part of this plan. Tony sat at a board of treasury meeting that lasted a fucking terrible hour longer than it was supposed to. He couldn’t even wear his hat today because Pepper had insisted that this meeting with all the higher ups and some investors was too important to make the company look bad. His eyes went to Pepper’s face for a brief moment before going back to the presenter. The things I do for her. At least when I get out of this fucking thing the raid will be over. 

“Excuse me,” Friday said from above, “I suggest this meeting take a ten-minute intermission.”

Everyone became alert and there were hushed whispers all throughout the room. “Friday, you’re not supposed to interrupt meetings,” Pepper reminded her. 

“My apologies, Ms. Potts, but I feel as though Boss would like to be informed that the Staten Island ferry was just cut in half and Spiderman is having trouble handling the situation.”

Tony’s heart would have stopped if he didn’t rush out of his chair and up to his penthouse. “Fri, have the suit ready for when I get up there!” THE KID’S NOT EVEN SUPPOSED TO BE THERE! 

The metal wrapped around him in a familiar manner. Like wearing a fine, well-worn suit. In a matter of a minute, Iron Man was able to fly to the ferry. It looks like one of those crappy end of the world movies from the nineties. As he flew around the boat to the side that was sinking faster, he saw Spiderman suspended in the middle of the split ship. It’s worse than those movies. 

As much as Tony wanted to save the kid first, it looked like he only had an injury on his chest and civilians come first if no one’s life is in danger. He used his suit’s strength and some robot helpers he brought with him to bring the two pieces back together. He looked up through a window and saw Spiderman staring back at him. “Hello, Spiderman,” Tony said. “You’re supposed to be in school.”

Peter ignored the remark and darted outside and swung around the ferry. “Karen, are there any points I need to secure?” 

Of course, he still wants to help. “You’ve done enough, Peter,” Tony said through the comms.   

“I can still do something!”

Keep your head on straight, Stark. There are still people to save. “I. Said. Enough. Go home, I’ll deal with you later.” Keep calm, don’t be Howard. You’ll deal with it later. 

Boats from all around the harbor came to the aid of the Staten Island ferry. The bystanders on board cheered and the FBI agents worked to keep everything organized. Amazingly, there were no casualties, and the worst injury was a broken arm and bruised pride from some of the agents. Thank God, Ross doesn’t need any more ammunition against enhanced individuals. And thinking of enhanced individuals. “Friday, please tell me Peter’s made it back to the tower.”

“He is currently watching from a mile away on top of a building.”

Of course. Of course, he didn’t listen! In the mask, Tony took a couple deep breaths. Calm yourself. He may not realize what he’s doing is wrong. He thought back to his first training class he attended that stressed the importance of patience and understanding. He flew at the slow enough speed that his kid wouldn’t be surprised by Iron Man coming towards him. “I know I told you to go home. Why aren’t you there?” Tony asked in a flat voice. 

“I wanted to make sure...was everyone alright?” Peter said, still looking at the ferry. 

“Yeah, they were. But this is a big screw up Peter. Bigger than accidentally blowing up an empty bodega or even the Washington Monument. People could have died.” 

“I know, but I had to-”

“No, you don’t!” Tony shouted. “We’ve had this conversation before!” Okay, maybe some anger was able to slip out from its container, but it was completely warranted. 

Peter kept his head down and didn’t look up at him. “I know and I’m sorry.”

“Are you? Because I think if you were, we wouldn’t be going through this again.”

His kid finally had the courage to look up at him. “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.”

“Of course, you didn’t, but it did.”

“What-what did you want me to do? Sit back and do nothing?”

Why didn’t he just listen to me?! “Yes, I told you that I would deal with it.” 

“Really? Like you said last time? Before the Washington Monument. How was I supposed to know you actually ordered something to be done from your ivory tower?”

Oh, now he wants to be mad at me? “Orders from my ivory tower? And you say I need new materials for my sayings.” Tony said as he continued to circle Peter. “I was doing things from behind the scenes as your mentor.”

“Why not just tell me what was going on? How long did you know about this?” 

“Long enough, and I didn’t tell you because you would have gone out and done this anyway.”

“At least I would have gone out!” Peter bit out. “You can’t even get in that suit.”

I can’t believe he went there. “Friday, disengage.” Tony landed, the suit folded into itself, and he stepped out to see his kid’s shocked expression. “Peter, I tried, I really tried to be careful with all of this. I’m taking away your suit.” If soft boundaries don’t work, you can’t be afraid to set hard ones. 

Peter looked as though his world was shattered. “You can’t!”

“Yes, I can. It’s my suit.” You need to be firm. 

“That guy, the Vulture, he’s still out there. He still needs to be caught so something like this can’t happen again,” Peter argued. 

“Yeah, and I’ll deal with it again. You’re off the case. You’re off all the cases right now. I can’t risk you getting hurt because you seem to have a problem with staying safe.”  

At this point Peter looked more shattered than he did before. “Why does that matter?!” 

“Don’t say that crap to me, Parker!” Tony yelled over him. 

“I only say it because it’s true! I’ll heal, it’s no big deal!”

I can’t believe what I’m hearing. Actually, I can completely believe what I’m hearing. Tony slowly took steps towards him. “It’s a big deal when you sneak out of school. It’s a big deal when you intentionally ignore me. It is a big deal that you got hurt and keep getting hurt. And it is especially a big deal when there is a chance that you could have been fucking killed!”

Peter backed up as he approached and didn’t say anything.  

“Now, I’m going to say this again and this time you’re going to listen to me: go home.” Tony said in a low voice with barely contained anger. “I need to stay here and deal with the media shit storm this produced. I’ll deal with you when I get back.”

“Okay, Tony,” Peter said in a small voice. 

It took his kid a second to put the mask back on and web away. Fuck that sucked. Hearing his kid call him by his first name was a punch in the gut that he had not been expecting. For something that seemed so formal, when Peter called him Mr. Stark it sounded colorful. Like it was full of familiarity, more of a familial title than a name. I can’t think about this right now. I’ll smooth it out with him when I get home. 

Going over what happened with the remaining FBI agents and giving his statement only took an hour, tops. They wanted him to stay longer, but as time went on, Tony got more anxious. He flew back as fast as he could and basically tore out of his suit. He froze when he saw Pepper sitting at the kitchen island. 

Tony swallowed. “Hey Pep. What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to come up here and wait until you came back. Maybe congratulate you on getting back out there for a good cause and then yell at you for getting in the suit again. Do you know what I saw when I got here?”

“My great new interior design?” Tony tried to joke. 

Pepper didn’t laugh or even smile. Her eyes did dart up to a webbed picture of an Easter basket, though. “I did notice that, but after I saw a crying teenager sitting here.”

Fuck. “Pep, this is not how I wanted you to meet him,” Tony said quickly.

“Your personal intern that I didn’t know about? In between the time where he left and now, I had time to look that up.”

“He left? Where did he go?” Where else can he go?

“I’m not sure, I just told Happy to drive him home and then I got to work trying to put something together for the press mania surrounding the Iron Man and Spiderman team up to save the Staten Island ferry.”

He ignored the second half of her statement and focused on the first. “Home? To where? He lives here. Friday, where did Happy take him?” 

“Happy never drove him, Peter jumped off the top of the tower approximately forty minutes ago.” 

“He what?!” Pepper said horrified. “Oh my god. Why wasn’t I notified? I knew he was sad, but I didn’t think he would jump!” 

“Pep, it’s fine. He’s Spiderman, him jumping off the top of the building is just the way he does things,” Tony explained quickly. “Friday, contact Peter and tell him to get back here and bring up the tracker in his suit.”

“I’m sorry Boss, but he is not wearing your suit and he is not wearing or carrying anything I can track.”

Alright, now might be time to panic. “What do you mean? He jumped off the tower not wearing his suit? What about his watch? Starkpad? Phone? None of that can be tracked?”

“No, Boss.” 

He’s fine. He’s probably fine. He’ll be back by tonight and I’ll help him with his wounds, and everything will be fine. Sometimes foster kids will lash out or get emotional enough to leave for a bit. But they usually come back. Nothing to worry about. Nothing at all. 

“Tony,” Pepper said. She placed a hand on his shoulder which caused him to jump. “You need to tell me what’s going on.”

When did she get so close to me? He basically word vomited on her about the time she left to today. He didn’t just tell her about the stuff with Peter, even if that was both of their favorite parts, but with his alcoholism and the Avengers. They both laughed, teared up, and best of all: she listened. It was nice to tell someone about everything, even Rhodey didn’t get the full story, only the abridged version.  

Talking to Pepper made him feel light. I think this is the feeling people said they got when they admitted they had a problem with alcohol. Relief, like things were about to get better. When he finished, Pepper was holding his hand with a firm grip and the penthouse was silent. 

“I wish I was here for all of this,” Pepper said.

“I’m kinda glad that you weren’t. A lot of blood, sweat, tears, and vomit. As you now know.” They both smiled at each other. At some point they relocated to the sofa. We never get this much undisturbed time together. “So, Pep, what have you been up to?”

Pepper brought her soft hand to his cheek and stroked his face with her thumb. “I’d love to get into it right now, but I think we need to come off silent and deal with everything first.”

From the time Tony went out for the ferry, he muted all forms of contact. “Does it ever suck to be right all the time?”

“Sometimes,” she snorted. 

“Just one more minute?” Tony asked. Pepper allowed it and relaxed into his chest and he stroked her hair. We should do this more often. No phones, no distractions, no A.Is to bother us. It is a little odd that one A.I hasn’t said anything in a while. “Friday, did something happen to Karen? Usually, she’d be screaming at me by now.”

“I muted her,” Friday responded, almost cheerily. 

“Why?”

“It has recently come to my attention that her and Peter have formed an inappropriate relationship that should be dealt with. Furthermore, she tends to speak at inopportune moments and would have interrupted Ms. Potts if given the chance.”

Tony took a deep, steadying breath, and refused to meet Pepper’s face as she looked up at him. “Inappropriate how?”

“She does not act as an A.I should.”

Well, that gave me no information. “Unmute her please.”

“YOU FUCKING BITCH!” Karen’s almost human voice reverberated through the penthouse. “Not you Tony, although you acted like a real bastard before, that was for my LOVELY sister.” 

There she is. Before either Pepper or Tony could open their mouths, the A.Is started to argue.  

“This is why your code needs to be rewritten. You’ve started to act like this,” Friday said in her calm voice. 

“If anyone tries to touch my code, they better buy me dinner first,” Karen sassed back. “Now, it’s nice to meet you, Ms. Potts. I am Karen Stark and I help out Spiderman and Peter Parker. Someone who I’d like to find sometime today, Tony.” 

Pepper blinked. “Pleasure to meet you.” She mouthed the word ‘Stark?’.  

“That is another topic I’d like to discuss with you, Boss. She thinks she has a last name and refuses to be referred to as her designation."

“That’s because Peter gave me one because he LOVES me. That’s the difference between you and me. I have a name; you are an acronym.”  

“Peter has given you the wrong idea of what you are,” Friday said. “He may think of you as human and treat you as such, but you are not. You are like me, an A.I. You will never know how to feel.”

“Maybe you won’t,” Karen said with a raised voice, “but I already do.”

Tony rubbed his head and tried not to get angry. “As much as I love this discussion, I want to focus on Peter. Karen, do you know where he could be?”

“After school gets out, he may go to Ned’s house or back out on patrol. He left in extreme emotional distress, so it’s not likely he’ll return to the tower soon anytime soon.”

“And he wouldn’t go anywhere else? Even his foster father’s house if he was desperate?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Especially considering the borderline sexual abuse,” Friday added. 

“Excuse me?!” Tony yelled while Pepper took a sharp breath in. 

“That is a private matter he told me in confidence, you do not have the right to tell them that,” Karen shot back.

“Interesting that you think you love him, even though you chose to keep information like this a secret.”

Peter’s voice appeared over the speakers of the penthouse. “...his hand would linger on me, he’d stand way too close, and his eyes would always be on my back. It made my spider senses go crazy for a while, they’d even go off in places like my room or bathroom. It didn’t matter if I locked the door.” 

“Stop! You can’t play this!” Karen pleaded.

“...one day my senses went crazy during dinner, and I didn’t want to eat the food, but it’s not like I could refuse food. It’d be rude for one thing and it was hard to come by enough food to keep me satisfied.” 

“Someone needs to because you won’t,” Friday said back to Karen. 

“...I felt super tired, and I went to bed. My senses were still going off, but I was so tired. And I woke up in the middle of the night to him at the end of my bed, and it’s all so fuzzy that it made me think it never happened. But I know he did.”

“This is an invasion of his priva-”

“Karen has been muted.”

“...he didn’t do anything. From what I remembered, he kept staring at me for what felt like forever and shuffled out of the room. The next morning at breakfast he acted like everything was the same. And I left to live in my house after that.”

When the silence returned, it wasn't the peaceful one from before, but cold despite the tropical temperatures of the penthouse. "I'm going to slaughter him. Fri, ready the suit again." How could I have not seen this? Did I even ask how he felt about Dick Dickenson recently?

Tony went to get off the couch but was stopped by a hand on the reactor in his chest. "As much as I agree that man should be killed, and I'm sure most people would agree too, but you can't fly around the city and kill someone," Pepper pointed out.  

"Pep, you don't understand. I wasn't around for the first guy, but I'm here for him now." 

Her face softened further. "And that's very noble, but there are other ways to be there for him that doesn't involve murder." 

"You're right. I'll just ruin him socially, financially, and put him in the worst prison I can find." 

“I’ll do that. I think you should focus on Peter.”

“Pepp-”

“You’ll go too far. It’s what you do,” Pepper leaned in and gave him a peck on the lips. “It’s been longer than a minute, let's get back to work." 

After that, it was a flurry of movement between them. It had been so long, Tony forgot why business magazines and news channels alike dubbed them a power couple. She called CPS and got the ball rolling on handing Dickenson his ass, and Tony combed through all the CCTV footage and any other resources he could to find his kid. In between any down time they had like being put on hold or waiting for videos to load, they prepared a press release for what was dubbed ‘the ferry incident’. 

“The special victim’s unit have sent officers to Richard Dickenson’s house and are bringing him in for questioning. It’s likely they’ll make an arrest sometime tomorrow,” Pepper said.

“I traced Peter to a different borough in the industrial district. Not a lot of cameras work over there, but Karen informed me there is an abandoned factory he likes to hunt in. He’ll be safe there, until he comes home, or I go and get him. But I think I'll give him time to cool off,” Tony said back.

“And at noon tomorrow you’ll give a press release on being Iron Man after so long and teaming up with a local superhero. Who you don't have a relationship with. Make sure you follow the script we made as much as you can.”

He flashed her his billion-dollar smile, “when do I not?”

The smile she gave him back was tired, but it did reach her eyes. “Cute. Is there anything else you need me to do before I leave for tonight?”

Right. As wonderful as it had been with her at his side again, she still had to leave. “You know that cabinet over there? I want that gone tomorrow. All of it.”

Pepper tilted her head and opened the doors to the liquor cabinet. “Isn’t the first step to get rid of temptation?”

“Following rules is for people without the last name Stark. I should probably get rid of it though. Not like I’ll be throwing many parties up here.” His eyes lingered on the different colored bottles that were still arranged in the rainbow and size pattern Peter determined months ago. The light bounced off them alluringly. Guess I’ll need to lock myself in my office tonight. 

“I’ll give some of the unopened ones to board members as gifts,” Pepper said with a nod. 

She never wastes anything. “Well Ms. Potts, it's three in the morning and we need to meet up again tomorrow at nine. If you wish, you can stay here for the evening. I have the room.”

“Maybe next time Mr. Stark. I’ll see you in the morning.”

Tony watched her go and walked down the hall. On the way to his office, he noticed a vial outside Peter’s room. When he picked it up to inspect, the little tarantula he gave Peter for Christmas came out. It felt like it stared at Tony before crawling back into its nest, as if it was unimpressed by him. He carefully kept the vial in his hand and placed it on his office desk. 

What a shit day. It’s amazing no one died. His mind flashed an image of a very guilty looking Dick Dickenson. I would have been okay with some casualties though. “Friday, pull up real time footage of anywhere near that factory and alert me if there are any movements.”

“I’ll keep you updated,” Karen answered. 

Okay, everything is fine. Pepper and I handled everything. Dickenson will go to jail. Peter will come back to the tower. I can become his foster parent. Oh God, I’m going to be a parent. 

Normally, at this time he’d be woken up by Karen so he could help his kid with Spiderman injuries. And while they did that, Peter would give him a preview of the report he would record later that Tony would listen to in the middle of the day to keep him going. But now he was awake, and it was entirely too quiet. 

It was quite an accomplishment for him to be surrounded by people at the beginning and middle of the day but be completely alone now. The lights in his office were dimmed and starkly contrasted the bright lights of the city. There were no smells in his office other than stale coffee, but thankfully not alcohol. The hum of the reactor was the only sound he could hear. 

He was completely alone, and it was devastating. 

Chapter Text

What am I going to do with you?

Tony Stark just got out of surgery, and he wasn’t supposed to have visitors yet, but many doors open themselves when your name was Virginia Potts. The medical staff even gave her a very comfortable chair so she could sit at his bedside. Pepper only spent five minutes staring at his beaten and bruised body before pulling out a Stark Pad and getting back to work. The steady beeping of the monitor and the hum from his chest was enough to let her know he was alive.   

It took a lot of fancy words and video calls, but she was able to ensure the world, and more importantly, the shareholders that the face of the company was alive and well. Which, admittedly, was a bit of a stretch considering the doctors weren’t quite sure when Tony would wake up. As the days went on her make-up became blotchier, her hair unkempt, and her clothes wrinkled. Sometimes the medical staff would look at her with more pity than Tony. It was one thing to be the person in the bed who was hurt and healing, but it was another to be the one next to them. Crying and praying for them to wake up soon.  

It took nine days, and he only woke up for a moment. Long enough for his heart rate to spike and crack open his eyes to see her teared-up face. By the time a doctor rushed in, he was asleep again. After that, Pepper grabbed his hand and started to beg. He was an annoying, egotistical, arrogant, self-sacrificial bastard, and she needed him to wake up because he was her world. 

Virginia Potts became Pepper Potts because of him, to the point where a good portion of the general populace thought it was her name. He handpicked her to be his personal assistant and later gave her the title of CEO. She’d known him since she was fresh out of college and it was difficult to remember a time where he wasn’t in her life. As time went on, it was arduous to remember a time where she didn’t love him. 

The type of love that someone only got when they were young and stupid. Between two people who had no one else but each other, in the romantic way. Ever since he got back from Afghanistan, it wouldn’t have been a stretch to drop the ‘playboy’ part of his descriptor and she hadn’t been on a date in years either. Either men were too afraid to approach her, or they were the arrogant assholes who wanted to one up Tony by stealing ‘his’ girl. And it all ended with them being here, Pepper crying at his bedside. 

It was selfish, sure, but she wished you could take a break from loving someone. 

Tony groaned and when his eyes opened, they were foggy, but he was awake enough to show understanding. “Pep…”

“Your physical therapy will begin immediately and the medical team here at the tower will be at your side around the clock, as usual. You’re required to go through at least one month of therapy to ensure emotional and psychological stability for the company. I wish you a speedy recovery, Mr. Stark,” Pepper recited. She only waited until his eyes became clear and he registered what she said, and then she turned and walked away. 

“Pep…”

What am I going to do with myself? 

The answer came in the form of more work. Being the CEO of Stark Industries came with an ungodly amount of work. Especially for someone as hands on as Pepper. She woke up at six every day (seven on the weekends) and went to sleep at two in the morning. To everyone else, she’s doing phenomenal, thriving even, but those closest to her knew she was wearing down.

“I guess that’s why you and Mr. Stark are the perfect match,” Sheila said to her after two months of this routine. She said it cheerfully enough, but her expression was melancholy. 

“That’s not true, I get the work I’m supposed to get done on my binges.” They both laughed in a hollow way. 

It took months to break the monotony, and it was Friday, and oddly enough, Spiderman who did it. Occasionally, Pepper would ask the A.I to give her a status report on Tony’s wellbeing, to make sure he was alive. From what Pepper gathered, he was either drunk, asleep, or manic in the lab. It was very early in the morning when the first call came in. “Ms. Potts, I would like you to know I am watching over Boss for the time being,” Friday said. 

“Why are you telling me this?” Her phone was pressed to her ear and Pepper was already half out of her bed. 

“Spiderman asked if there was someone close by that could help him and you are the best option.”

This caused Pepper to wake up further and put her feet into her slippers. “Help him? Is Tony in trouble?”

“No, Boss has merely passed out after a heavy night of drinking. His vitals are still within normal parameters and Spiderman has placed him in his bed, covered him with a blanket, placed a bucket next to him, and left pills with a glass of water on the bedside table.”

“That’s considerate. Thank you for letting me know, Friday.”

“Of course, Ms. Potts. It was nice speaking to you.”

“You too, Friday.” Pepper hung up and got back into bed. She had only been asleep for two hours and now she had to wait for her heart to calm down. Spiderman? Isn’t that the hero Tony recruited during the civil war debacle? It doesn’t matter. She tried to put it out of her mind, roll over and go back to sleep. And she did, but it wasn’t very restful. 

At first Friday would wake her up two times a week with the same sentence, then it was three. It almost made her want to look at footage of the tower to see what was going on, but she resisted. Apparently, Tony and his habits were Spiderman’s concern now. They were still Pepper’s concerns too, of course, but she kept those in the back of her head. At least I don’t have to do anything about it.   

But what is Spiderman doing there?

The holidays came and went. Tony didn’t text her and she didn’t contact him. Pepper did get calls from both her parents though, who were very happy that Tony was seemingly out of her life. They were less than happy that she couldn’t come and visit because she had meetings in Bangladesh and Tokyo. 

It’s my life, I can do what I want. 

There was an explosion at the Washington Monument which caused another small media frenzy for SI. Which was aggravating considering it had nothing to do with SI, but she still had to give a statement anyway. It was somewhat a surprise when she found out Spiderman was in D.C and helped save the victims in the elevator after the explosion. 

As far as Pepper knew, the minor league vigilante didn’t leave the boroughs of New York. She resisted looking into the penthouse footage, but she couldn’t keep her mind off who Spiderman was. Not his identity, Pepper didn’t care about that, but the type of person he was. It’s a shame he got wrapped up in Avengers business, he seems like such a nice boy. 

Spiderman sounded and acted young, if Pepper would guess she’d say he was late high school, early college if she wanted to feel better about it. She even followed the hero’s social media and tracked his whereabouts lightly. He swung around the city, doing tricks for kids he saw on the street, helping people with menial tasks, and occasionally webbing up muggers. There were multiple pictures of Spiderman posing with the civilians he saved. Her current favorite was a picture he took with a family of the dog he returned. He’s a busy child, I’ll give him that. 

Somewhere through the weeks, the knowledge that Spiderman was there watching Tony calmed her. But steadily, Friday’s early morning calls ceased. It worried her until Friday said that Spiderman still saw Tony daily. And there was the fact that Tony had started replying to work emails. Horribly outdated ones, but it was steady progress. Soon it would get to the point where he was caught up.

What am I going to do with him?

“Hello Rhodey, it’s nice to hear your voice,” Pepper said to her friend. He managed to call her during her lunch break. 

“Hey Pep, do you have a minute to chat?” Rhodey asked politely. 

The engineer’s union is breathing down my neck. The price of silver just went up. There’s a new bill in Congress that could delay the acquisition of another mining field. “I could use a break. How are you?”

“Fine, physical therapy is going well. I can walk almost perfectly again.” 

They went on for a few minutes and chatted idly about their lives, and Pepper waited for him to get to the real reason he called. Not that her and Rhodey hadn’t become friends over the years, but Tony was definitely the connecting factor. That and his tone had an unsureness to it, like he wanted to talk about something, but he didn’t know how to bring it up. 

“You know Tony visited me last weekend.”

There it is. “Did he?” Pepper held her phone to her ear as she ate salad with one hand and scrolled through the bill from Congress with her other. I wasn’t aware he left the tower anymore. I’ll ask Friday about it later.

“Yeah, it was nice. We talked for a while. Pep, I think he’s ready to be better.”

“Good for him. I’m glad he’s finally decided to do that.” Her tone of voice may have been harder than she wanted, if Rhodey’s sigh was anything to go by. 

“He’s starting to get sober now.”

“He does that every few years.”

“He’s serious. He went to an AA meeting.”

Pepper’s heart stopped. “He did? By himself?” she asked incredulously. Quickly, she went to another tab on her computer and searched for any information about Tony going into rehab. “Was he spotted?”

“Helen set it up, you don’t need to brief the media on it or anything.” Rhodey said and she could hear his eye roll.  

He was right, nothing recent came up in her search results. Just a couple of his stints in rehab centers in the nineties and early two thousands. “He’s done this before, you know this. We shouldn’t get our hopes up.”

“No, it’s different. It’ll stick this time, I’m sure.”

That tone came back in his voice, the one that suggested he wanted to talk about something but chose not to. “Is there something you’re not telling me? Because I see no reason for it to be different.”

“No, I’m just saying, if you want to reach out and make a bridge with him, I think he’s ready. Only if you wanted to. And he understands, I understand, everyone would understand if you didn’t want to.”

I can tell he’s being sincere, but it still feels like emotional manipulation. “Thank you, James,” Pepper said as she carefully cleaned up her desk area. “My lunch break is over. I’ll keep in touch.”

What am I going to do now?

Pepper Potts didn’t avoid things. She faced things head on and tackled a problem immediately because that was the best way to deal with them. That being said, she may or may not have been avoiding the Stark Tower for the better part of a year. It wasn’t difficult to move her official office to one of their many buildings around the city and go to meetings at the tower through holo screens. Even when Tony started to grace them with his presence at meetings, she kept it professional and tried to be discreet when she gazed at him. 

Tony only went to meetings that were in the tower and surprisingly enough, he was always early and well kept. I can’t believe it, maybe James was right. So, Pepper picked a day to go to the tower in person for a meeting and see for herself. She didn’t let herself be disappointed when Tony came in almost late looking as though he performed the walk of shame the previous night. At many points in the meeting, she thought he would fall asleep, but he dutifully kept writing in his notebook. 

I wonder why this topic is so important to him. When the meeting concluded, Pepper let everyone empty out of the room. She kept her expression hard, even as her favorite long-term employees gave her worried glances as they left. She stared at Tony until he looked up at her. 

“Hello Miss Potts, what can I do for you?”

“You look like shit,” Pepper said. 

“Succinct as always and I didn’t need you to tell me that, thanks.”

She sat back in her chair and crossed her legs. “I’m surprised you showed up today.”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world. What would you like to berate me for today?”

Pepper’s eyes narrowed and looked him up and down. “I thought your days of coming into meetings strung out were over.”

Tony huffed, reached into his wallet to pull out a small red chip, and held it up. “You caught me on a bad day. I’ve gone straight.” 

He’s keeping up with his AA meetings. What chip is that? A month? I’ll need to look it up later. Her hard expression broke into a tired mournful one. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know. Will you have to give it back?”

“No, I’m not hungover, it was just one of those nights. Where I can’t get to sleep and then I work on a suit.” Tony got up from his chair and straightened his papers and back. 

The clicking of Pepper’s heels echoed through the room until she stopped at him. “Just like old times.” Her hands came up to his jacket to fix it and his tie. When she finished they were eye level. 

“Just like old times,” Tony agreed. He reached out and moved her hair behind her shoulder. “I’m not reading this wrong, am I?”

A slight smile crept onto her face. “No, but I have another meeting in eight minutes and you haven’t showered or brushed your teeth since yesterday.”

“You know, you have a real talent for being correct. It’s uncanny.”

“That’s why I’m the boss.” She took a step back. “I’ll contact you later. Get some rest, Mr. Stark.”

“Thank you, Miss Potts. I look forward to hearing from you.”  

Pepper nodded and excited the room. She didn’t let him see the grin on her face. James was right, there was something different about him. He’s certainly not on any drugs or drunk and he seems almost calm. I know exactly what I’m going to do now. 

It took several meetings for them to get an hour of free time together, half of which was spent in a random empty room they found. When they finished, it only took her a minute to correct her hair and clothing. Her make-up would need to be touched up, but she was well practiced in that too. 

“Miss Potts, I’ll never understand how you clean up so quickly and so nicely,” Tony said as they walked down the hall. He made no effort to look more professional, his shirt was still a crumpled mess along with his jacket. 

“It’s because I am Pepper Potts.”

“Of course.”

They had another meeting to get too in twenty-three minutes and they still needed to grab something to eat. Tony bought them a couple packages of cookies, cakes, and chocolate from a vending machine in the hall. Here goes my diet. She sighed and ate them with him while looking out over New York. 

“What? Not satisfied with the selection? Did you want the dried fruit chips instead? Or those gross vegetable fries? Because I feel like I did my duty to provide the meal, so you’re going to have to buy them.”

“You’re a billionaire and you own this building, and you’re too cheap to by fruit chips?” Pepper said jokingly. “You better not say anything about those vegetable fries where anyone else can hear. We’d get quite the lawsuit for slander.” Pepper got up and bought the fruit chips for herself. Damn, these are expensive.  

“My CEO will handle it. She’s the best at dealing with that stuff.” He wiped his hand with a napkin, crumpled it, and threw it at her lightly. 

The napkin bounced off her harmlessly. “Only because she has so much practice.” She offered him some fruit chips and he carefully only took the kiwi from the bag.

They finished their ‘meal’ in ten minutes and Tony cleaned up the mess of wrappers and even bent down to grab the napkin that was on the floor. He groaned and cracked his back when he straightened out. “Remind me to tell someone to make me a chiropractor appointment.”

“It’ll be squeezed in somewhere.” I can’t believe we met in our twenties and now we’re here. “Would it kill you to straighten yourself out?”

“Yep.” Tony did fix his clothing a bit, he tucked in his shirt and tried to uncrumple his jacket the best he could. Then he reached into his pocket and pulled out the red and gold knitted hat. “Look at me. Genius. Now I don’t need to fix my hair,” he said as he put on the hat. 

I hate that hat. “Do you wear that just to annoy me?” It was grating to look at and made Tony look like a joke during meetings. It was far off from the worst things he’d done, wore, or brought with him in his tenure but the annoyance was still there.

“Not JUST to annoy you. I’m quite fond of this hat,” Tony said with a smile. 

It was hard to be mad at him for liking the article of clothing when it obviously had some sort of sentimental value. He did say someone special made it for him, not that Pepper could guess who did. “Just don’t wear it to the quarterly investors meeting please.” The damn thing had already become the newest New York fashion statement thanks to Tony, and she didn’t want to see the thing anywhere near the meeting.   

“Anything for you, Pep.”

What am I going to do with you?

Surprisingly, the meeting was going well. Tony didn’t wear the damn hat, everyone showed up on time, and the projected earnings for this quarter were met. The meeting was running longer than it was supposed to, but that was no big deal. “Excuse me,” Friday said from above, “I suggest this meeting take a ten-minute intermission.”

Everyone became alert and there were hushed whispers all throughout the room. It was too good to be true. “Friday, you’re not supposed to interrupt meetings,” Pepper reminded her. 

“My apologies, Ms. Potts, but I feel as though Boss would like to be informed that the Staten Island ferry was just cut in half and Spiderman is having trouble handling the situation.”

Tony stood up so fast he knocked over his chair. “Fri, have the suit ready for when I get up there!” He was gone before anyone had the chance to react. 

Everyone in the room looked to Pepper for what to do next. “Just because Mr. Stark had to step out doesn’t mean we shouldn’t continue. I want to remind everyone that cell phones should only be used for urgent matters and we should all give Maurice our full attention.” The rest of the meeting didn’t take too long, and most people were respectful enough to stay off their phones. 

When they wrapped up, a few people gave her condolences which she weakly thanked them for out of politeness. You’d think he was going off to his death instead of helping a small-time hero. She cleared her and Tony’s schedule for the rest of the day and decided to wait for him up in the penthouse. For a place that was basically her home for a long period of time, Tony had been adamant on her not seeing it lately. Lord only knows what he’s done to the place. Maybe he’s ruined my interior design. Or worse, it looks like a bachelor’s pad.  

The elevator doors opened to a whoosh of overly warm air. She planned on there being a mess, old pizza boxes and take out containers everywhere, but she didn’t expect the bawling preteen at the kitchen island. What has Tony gotten himself into now? Pepper approached carefully, but loud enough so the child should hear her. She stopped halfway to him and he continued to cry. 

Pepper cleared her throat. 

The child slowly raised his head and had a guilty expression on his face. He looked surprised to see her and flinched as she took a step forward. 

“Hello,” Pepper said carefully, “I’m Virginia Potts, who are you?” The boy was small, had curly, fluffy brown hair and the same color eyes. His eyes were also red and glassy from crying. Oh God, they look similar. 

“Pe-peter Parker, ma’am,” Peter answered in a shaky voice.

Parker? Where have I heard that before? Maybe one of the women I escorted out of Tony’s room years ago? “It’s nice to meet you, Peter. Now can you tell me why you’re here?”

“I’m Mr. Stark’s intern,” Peter said as he shrunk into himself. “He-um, he told me to come here.”

“In the middle of the school day?” Pepper questioned. This can’t be good. 

Peter remained silent. 

“It’s okay honey, you don’t need to be scared. You just need to tell me if Ton-Mr. Stark has been,” Pepper took a deep shaky breath, “if Mr. Stark has been hurting you. In any way.” Oh, dear Lord, please don’t be that. 

Peter’s head shot up and looked at her with wide eyes. “No! No, he’s never hurt me, I swear. He’s not like-he’s not-” the boy stuttered to halt. 

Thank God, he sounds like he’s telling the truth. Pepper released a shaky breath. “Okay, do you know where he is?”

“He’s still at the ferry. He said he’d be back after he dealt with it.” 

Right. I need to deal with that. “And when he gets here, we need to prepare for a press conference.” Pepper paused and looked at him with kindness and compassion. “I think you should go home while we do that. Is there anyone I can call for you?”

“No, there’s no one.”

I wonder if he really has no one or if he feels like he doesn’t. “And there is nowhere else you can go?”   

“Please, please don’t make me leave,” Peter begged. 

She took a couple steps closer to him and this time the child didn’t flinch. “I’m sorry, but Mr. Stark and I need to prepare for the press. It’s going to be a disaster and I can’t risk anyone seeing you and jumping to conclusions.” Whether they think the child is his illegitimate son or something far worse. 

“I’ll get going,” Peter said after a prolonged silence. He slipped from the chair and tried not to look at her. “I just need to grab a few things.” 

“I’ll call Happy, our head of security, to drive you home,” Pepper said as he disappeared down the hall. After she heard a door open, Pepper looked to the ceiling. “Friday, can you contact Happy for me? Tell him that he needs to drive Peter home?”

“Of course, Miss Potts. It’s nice to have you back,” Friday answered. 

Pepper hummed in response and was finally able to get a look around the penthouse. It was cleaner than what she expected, in fact it was pretty damn pristine. He obviously kept her interior design, which made her pleased, but she knew it would have to change soon. Not only because it was outdated, but the high heat and humidity had most likely started to fester mold and mildew. 

The most obvious change—and the most striking--to the penthouse was the ceilings covered in fine white strings. They glittered in the shifting noon light, and many of the panels had pictures stitched into them. Most were Easter themes, but some of them had Avengers emblems on them. Webbing? Perhaps this is what Spiderman does while he watches Tony?   

After her light inspection, Pepper pulled out her Stark Pad. The first thing she did was search for Peter Parker in the SI intern database, and to her surprise, he came up as Tony’s personal intern. The child’s name was even on many high-profile projects that Tony had overseen himself. Why did I not know about him before? 

Peter’s personal file was bare compared to many other high-ranking employees, with only a science fair win and a few robotics awards in school before he started at SI. His file said he was a fifteen-year-old boy, went to school at Midtown Institute for Science and Technology, and lived with his guardian, his foster father Richard Dickenson. His SI portfolio was surprisingly extensive for someone who was only an intern and for his age. He had the projects he worked on with Tony, but also several his own. Most of them in the medical and textile field, interestingly enough. 

How Peter could work on so many projects was made clear when she checked his hourly log. What is Tony thinking having him work so many hours?! It makes sense the child has his own room up here if he is working all hours of the day, even on school nights. Pepper made a note to contact one of the company lawyers about this just in case the Department of Labor investigated them. Especially since the records were all recorded by a K.S, and Pepper didn’t know anyone with those initials. I’ll need to talk to Tony to get more information on his intern.

Then she moved to the problem at hand, namely the Staten Island ferry. Which thanks to cell phones, had already drawn media attention. She watched and read everything she could find about it until she heard the still familiar sound of Tony landing the Iron Man suit on the balcony.

Tony basically ran out of the suit and froze when he saw her. “Hey Pep. What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to come up here and wait until you came back. Maybe congratulate you on getting back out there for a good cause and then yell at you for getting in the suit again. Do you know what I saw when I got here?”

“My great new interior design?” Tony tried to joke. 

He’s still the same. Trying to joke his way out of emotions. She didn’t laugh, but her eyes glanced up to a picture of an Easter basket. “I did notice that, but after I saw a crying teenager sitting here.”

“Pep, this is not how I wanted you to meet him,” Tony said quickly.

“Your personal intern that I didn’t know about? In between the time where he left and now, I had time to look that up.” Because you didn’t tell me about him. All the times we were together he neglected to mention the teenager who works so closely with him. 

“He left? Where did he go?” Tony said anxiously. 

“I’m not sure, I just told Happy to drive him home and then I got to work trying to put something together for the press mania surrounding the Iron Man and Spiderman team up to save the Staten Island ferry.”

“Home? To where? He lives here. Friday, where did Happy take him?” 

“Happy never drove him, Peter jumped off the top of the tower approximately forty minutes ago,” Friday answered. 

A shot of horror went through her body. “He what?! Oh my god. Why wasn’t I notified? I knew he was sad, but I didn’t think he would jump!” 

“Pep, it’s fine. He’s Spiderman, jumping off the top of the building is just the way he does things,” Tony explained quickly. “Friday, contact Peter and tell him to get back here and bring up the tracker in his suit.”

“I’m sorry Boss, but he is not wearing your suit and he is not wearing or carrying anything I can track.”

“What do you mean? He jumped off the tower not wearing his suit? What about his watch? Starkpad? Phone? None of that can be tracked?” Tony said in a panicked tone. 

“No, Boss.” 

It looked like he was on the verge of a breakdown. I need to calm him down. “Tony,” Pepper started. She placed a hand on his shoulder which caused him to jump. “You need to tell me what’s going on.”

He broke the minute she said that. Tony went through many stories of what he did in the time she was away. Sometimes, he would get so excited he would jump around in time, forget to mention details and have to explain something else. It was a mess of stories, and her favorite parts were when he spoke about Peter, he seemed happiest then. Pepper listened the whole time and teared up a bit when he spoke about drinking or the Avengers.  

“I wish I was here for all of this,” Pepper said when he was done. Peter sounds like such a good kid.

“I’m kinda glad that you weren’t. A lot of blood, sweat, tears, and vomit. As you now know,” Tony said hoarsely. They both smiled at each other. At some point they relocated to the sofa. “So Pep, what have you been up to?”

Pepper brought her soft hand to his cheek and stroked his face with her thumb. “I’d love to get into it right now, but I think we need to come off silent and deal with everything first.”

“Does it ever suck to be right all the time?”

“Sometimes,” she snorted. 

“Just one more minute?” Tony asked. Pepper allowed it and relaxed into his chest and he stroked her hair. “Friday, did something happen to Karen? Usually, she’d be screaming at me by now.”

Who?

“I muted her,” Friday responded, almost cheerily. 

His eyebrows scrunched in a cute (to her) manner. “Why?”

“It has recently come to my attention that her and Peter have formed an inappropriate relationship that should be dealt with. Furthermore, she tends to speak at inopportune moments and would have interrupted Ms. Potts if given the chance.”

She looked up at him with a concerned expression, but he purposely didn’t look at her. “Inappropriate how?”

“She does not act as an A.I should.”

“Unmute her please.”

“YOU FUCKING BITCH!” A loud voice boomed through the penthouse. “Not you Tony, although you acted like a real bastard before, that was for my LOVELY sister.” 

Pepper looked up startled at the voice. That’s Karen? Before she could ask anything, Friday and the new voice started to argue. 

“This is why your code needs to be rewritten. You’ve started to act like this,” Friday said in her calm voice. 

“If anyone tries to touch my code, they better buy me dinner first,” Karen sassed back. “Now, it’s nice to meet you, Ms. Potts. I am Karen Stark and I help out Spiderman and Peter Parker. Someone who I’d like to find sometime today, Tony.” 

Pepper blinked. “Pleasure to meet you.” She mouthed the word ‘Stark?’ to Tony. He made another A.I? Specifically for Peter? She sounds remarkably human.    

“That is another topic I’d like to discuss with you, Boss. She thinks she has a last name and refuses to be referred to as her designation."

“That’s because Peter gave me one because he LOVES me. That’s the difference between you and me. I have a name; you are an acronym.”  

“Peter has given you the wrong idea of what you are,” Friday said. “He may think of you as human and treat you as such, but you are not. You are like me, an A.I. You will never know how to feel.”

“Maybe you won’t,” Karen said with a raised voice, “but I already do.”

This sounds concerning. This new A.I may be too life-like. Pepper wasn’t around for Ultron, but she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t wary of A.I. Especially ones that have motivation. If she had a body, I’d be a lot more cautious. 

Tony rubbed his temples. “As much as I love this discussion, I want to focus on Peter. Karen, do you know where he could be?”

“After school gets out, he may go to Ned’s house or back out on patrol. He left in extreme emotional distress, so it’s not likely he’ll return to the tower soon anytime soon,” Karen said. 

“And he wouldn’t go anywhere else? Even his foster father’s house if he was desperate?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Especially considering the borderline sexual abuse,” Friday added. 

“Excuse me?!” Tony yelled.

Pepper took in a sharp breath. 

“That is a private matter he told me in confidence, you do not have the right to tell them that,” Karen shot back.

“Interesting that you think you love him, even though you chose to keep information like this a secret.”

Peter’s voice appeared over the speakers of the penthouse. “...his hand would linger on me, he’d stand way too close, and his eyes would always be on my back. It made my spider senses go crazy for a while, they’d even go off in places like my room or bathroom. It didn’t matter if I locked the door.” 

“Stop! You can’t play this!” Karen pleaded.

“...one day my senses went crazy during dinner, and I didn’t want to eat the food, but it’s not like I could refuse food. It’d be rude for one thing and it was hard to come by enough food to keep me satisfied.” 

“Someone needs to because you won’t,” Friday said back to Karen. 

“...I felt super tired, and I went to bed. My senses were still going off, but I was so tired. And I woke up in the middle of the night to him at the end of my bed, and it’s all so fuzzy that it made me think it never happened. But I know he did.”

“This is an invasion of his priva-”

“Karen has been muted.”

“...he didn’t do anything. From what I remembered, he kept staring at me for what felt like forever and shuffled out of the room. The next morning at breakfast he acted like everything was the same. And I left to live in my house after that.”

I don’t want to believe what I just heard. The whole time Tony’s frown deepened, and his eyes filled with murderous rage. "I'm going to slaughter him. Fri, ready the suit again." 

When Tony went to get off the couch, Pepper placed a firm hand on his reactor. "As much as I agree that man should be killed, and I'm sure most people would agree too, but you can't fly around the city and kill someone," Pepper said carefully. I need to be careful with what I say here, or he’ll go from Iron Man savior of the ferry to killer of the people.  

"Pep, you don't understand. I wasn't around for the first guy, but I'm here for him now." 

Oh Lord, the first one? Pepper let her face soften. "And that's very noble, but there are other ways to be there for him that doesn't involve murder." 

"You're right. I'll just ruin him socially, financially, and put him in the worst prison I can find." 

“I’ll do that. I think you should focus on Peter.”

“Pepp-”

“You’ll go too far. It’s what you do,” Pepper leaned in and gave him a peck on the lips. “It’s been longer than a minute, let's get back to work." 

They were a perfect team. While she got in contact with CPS, he looked for Peter. They didn’t give her the time of day until she mentioned her name, SI’s lawyers, and the evidence they had. It’s amazing what can get done when you have the name Pepper Potts. In between any down time, they prepared a press release for what was dubbed ‘the ferry incident’. 

“The special victim’s unit have sent officers to Richard Dickenson’s house and are bringing him in for questioning. It’s likely they’ll make an arrest sometime tomorrow,” Pepper said after a few hours.

“I traced Peter to a different borough in the industrial district. Not a lot of cameras work over there, but Karen informed me there is an abandoned factory he likes to hunt in. He’ll be safe there, until he comes home, or I go and get him. But I think I'll give him time to cool off,” Tony said back.

“And at noon tomorrow you’ll give a press release on being Iron Man after so long and teaming up with a local superhero. Who you don't have a relationship with. Make sure you follow the script we made as much as you can.”

He flashed her his cocky grin, “when do I not?”

“Cute. Is there anything else you need me to do before I leave for tonight?”

Tony looked disappointed but didn’t ask her to stay. “You know that cabinet over there? I want that gone tomorrow. All of it.”

Pepper tilted her head and opened the doors to the liquor cabinet. “Isn’t the first step to get rid of temptation?” How did he manage to resist this for months?

“Following rules is for people without the last name Stark. I should probably get rid of it though. Not like I’ll be throwing many parties up here.” His eyes lingered on the different colored bottles. 

At least we can use this to our advantage. “I’ll give some of the unopened ones to board members as gifts,” Pepper said with a nod. 

“Well Ms. Potts, it's three in the morning and we need to meet up again tomorrow at nine. If you wish, you can stay here for the evening. I have the room.”

“Maybe next time Mr. Stark. I’ll see you in the morning.” She leaned against the elevator wall as it descended. My life only has two superheroes now, no one has tried to kill me in months, and there are no aliens, and yet it is still just as stressful and crazy as before. Pepper stood up straight before the doors opened and kept her businesswoman demeanor. I wouldn’t have it any other way. At least I know what’s going to happen tomorrow. 

After everything went down the previous day, Pepper almost expected the press release to be a disaster. She didn’t just almost expect it, she actively planned for it with a contingency plan, which thankfully didn’t need to be used. Tony actually stuck to the script they created and charmed the crowd like he usually did. It was a tough session filled with questions about him being back, the Avengers, how healthy he looked, and Spiderman. He dodged many questions about the Avengers and Spiderman by speaking about being sober, something the media latched onto immediately.   

During the press release, Sheila was able to excuse them from meetings and get others to go in their place. After the return of Iron Man, most people will understand. Even the stiffest businessmen. And especially if it helps the company brand. 

Then they went up to the penthouse. Pepper, so she could complete some of her unavoidable work and Tony so he could wait for a returned call from CPS. They talked idly through the day, mostly so Pepper could convince him to stay put and wait for things to calm down before he went out to bring Peter home. 

“Boss, Ms. Potts, some detectives are requesting to come up and speak with you,” Friday said. 

“Let them,” Tony ordered. 

This can’t be good. Two people stepped out of the elevator, a man and a woman. They both flashed their badges and the man stepped forward while the woman eyed the penthouse. “I’m Detective Stagler and this is my partner, Detective Benton. We’re from the New York Special Victims Unit, and we would like to ask you both some questions.”

“Should we call a lawyer?” Pepper asked from her spot at the kitchen island. 

“That won’t be necessary, we’re just looking for information on Peter Parker seeing as you made the call to CPS last night,” Detective Benton answered. 

Pepper walked over to the coffee machine, “would either of you like some coffee?”

“No thank you,” both the detectives said. 

“I’d like a cup,” Tony said while meeting her eyes. 

As the detectives turned back to Tony, she made the coffee and discreetly sent a text to their legal team. Sometimes lawyering up makes a person look guilty, but when you’re dealing with business, a lot of people wanted to make them appear guilty anyway. They all decided to take a seat at the kitchen island. It made it feel more like an interrogation than a friendly chat, but Pepper kept that to herself. 

“Interesting designs you have here,” Detective Benton said as she looked at the ceiling.

Tony’s face broke out into a proud grin. “Thanks, Spiderman does it.”

“Really? My kids love Spiderman, I’ll have to tell them later,” Detective Stagler said with a smile. Then he cleared his throat and went into questioning. “So, when was the last time you saw Peter?”

“Happy and I drove him to school yesterday, and he didn’t come home. It’s not usually a concern, but with everything going on we’re worried about where he is,” Tony said truthfully. 

The best way to lie was to inject truth into it. Both of them had lessons from lawyers on how to tell stories in a truthful, but not incriminating manner. It’s going to be a challenge to give them answers without making them think anything inappropriate is going on. Pepper held Tony’s hand and squeezed it. The best move is to play the concerned partner. 

Holding Tony’s hand didn’t escape Detective Benton’s notice. “Home? In his file it says that he lives with Richard Dickenson.”   

“Peter is my personal intern and starting around December he’s been living here with me,” Tony said carefully. 

“And you didn’t find that odd, Miss Potts? That your boyfriend lets his underage intern live with him?” Detective Benton asked.

“Of course not. I only met Peter once because Tony wanted to be careful about introducing me to his life. Peter is a great kid who came from a horrible situation and we want to make it easy for him,” Pepper responded.  

“Okay, thank you. Mr. Stark, do you have any idea of the places Peter likes to go? Any places he would go with his friends, maybe?”

“His only real close friend is Ned Leeds, but I assume his house was the first place you checked?” Tony asked back. The detective gave a slight nod of his head. “He likes to be all over Queens, he’s originally from there. Loves this Bodega called Delmar’s and the Hotdog Hut. The second place is utterly disgusting, but he likes the food there.”

“Great. Anywhere else?”

“Can’t think of anywhere else specifically. But like I said before, he likes to wander. I’m doing everything I can to find him, and I haven’t had any luck yet,” Tony lied. 

“Thanks, we’ll check those places, if you find him first, we would like to know. Now, what can you tell us about Richard Dickenson?” Detective Stagler asked. 

Tony stiffened and his jaw clenched before answering. “Not much, I only met the man once and Peter didn’t really talk about him.”

“Really? Then how did you get the audio that we heard at the station?” Detective Benton countered. 

“It was a conversation between him and my A.I here at the tower. Amidst the chaos yesterday, she showed it to us, and we thought the most responsible action was to call you guys.”

“Yes, we were wondering who he was talking to in the recording. Do you record everything here at the tower?” Detective Stagler asked suddenly. 

Pepper squeezed Tony’s hand again to ground him. “Our A.Is, Friday and Karen, manage the tower. There are cameras everywhere except the bathrooms and bedrooms so they can detect what is going on. They don’t have eyes like we do, of course. Most of the time, they don’t have access to audio of those areas unless someone is in distress or they are specifically asked to by that person,” Pepper answered. 

“Ah, so Peter asked for the A.I to record him saying this?”

“He asked for her help, and he is aware everything they do is documented,” Pepper said quickly. Why are they asking about this?

Detective Stagler nodded, “and why didn’t it inform you of this this sooner?”

“Peter asked Karen not to and she wanted to keep his privacy,” Tony responded. 

“And you said he was living here with you for months, right? And you decided not to call CPS, confront Richard Dickenson, or ask him why he didn’t want to go back to the man’s house?” Detective Stagler asked. 

“I know it seems suspicious detective, but I assumed there was more emotional or even physical abuse going on. When we would work together, he was quiet and skittish, it took months for me to be able to put my hand on his shoulder or give him a pat on the back. I didn’t have the best relationship with my father,” Tony paused for a moment to take a sip of his coffee, “so I understand not wanting to talk about it. I know you haven’t gotten a chance to look at it yet, but I’m in the process of receiving my certification to be a foster parent, and I thought it didn’t matter.”

“The Tony Stark becoming a foster parent? That’s a little hard to believe,” Detective Benton questioned lightly. 

“I wanted a change in my life.”

“We saw in the press release this morning. You’re sober now.”

“I have to be. I can’t be anything less for him.” 

“That’s very inspirational of you, Mr. Stark,” Detective Benton said. “Thank you for your time for both of you. I know you’re very busy people. We’ll contact you if we have any further questions.” 

The two were about to leave when Detective Stagler shook his head and looked at Tony in the eyes. “Mr. Stark, there has been a development in the case. We arrested Mr. Dickenson and got a warrant to search his house. And we found something on his computer-”

“Elliot, we can’t disclose this,” Detective Benton interrupted.

Detective Stagler sighed, “I know Liv, but if it was one of my kids, I’d want to know. Dickenson is going to be charged on multiple accounts of child pornography and filming people in his house without consent. I’m telling you this because you both are going to have a long, hard, battle ahead of you.”

“Excuse me, you said filming?” Tony asked in a low voice. He let go of her hand and stood up from the island. 

“I’m not going to go into further detail, but there are videos and pictures of multiple people, that may or may not include Peter,” Detective Stagler said. Both detectives remained stoic as Stagler told them. They probably give news like this all the time. 

Tony stayed uncharacteristically calm and collected. “What is going to be our next step?”

“For us, we have a lot of work to do, we’re not sure how far this web goes. For you, I would suggest calling his CPS worker, but it’s likely you won’t get far as of right now.” 

“Watch me,” Tony said as he went down the hall and slammed his office door shut. 

It left the three of them staring down the hallway. “Well, thank you for coming and keeping us updated on the situation. Please come by again if you need anything else,” Pepper said to them both. 

“Thank you for your time, Ms. Potts,” Detective Benton said. She came up and shook Pepper’s hand. “I hope it goes well for both of you.”

Pepper walked them to the elevator, and they left. She considered going to Tony’s office to see how he was doing but decided against it. He’s either yelling at some poor CPS agent or completely wrecked. Her eyes went to the still full liquor cabinet and started to remove the empty bottles and poor out the opened ones.

When she finished getting rid of all the bottles, Tony still wasn’t out of his office. This isn’t good. “Friday,” Pepper started, “can you pull up any personal files on Peter Parker? I’m sure Tony has them saved somewhere.”

“Right away, Ms. Potts,” Friday answered. 

Her Stark Pad displayed a complete record of Peter Parker that included a version of his CPS file dated to a few months ago, his school records, police reports, and personal notes Tony made about the child being Spiderman. If Peter is going to be in my life, I should know about him. Especially if those two come back with more questions. 

“Ms. Potts,” Karen said from above. “I want to let you know that Tony didn’t read the police reports to keep his privacy intact.”

Pepper didn’t know how to respond to that. 

“The next time you see Peter, I don’t want you to look at him any differently than you otherwise would have. He is very sensitive about it. Promise me that you won’t,” Karen said. Her voice was soft and had a particular sadness to it that suggested she was about to cry. “Promise me.”

She’s almost human. “I promise.” Reading the reported accounts from both a young Peter and the police officers that helped him was one of the worst things she’s ever read. It turned her stomach and caused her eyes to prick with tears. 

There was a loud slam from down the hallway and Tony came stomping out. He went directly to the old liquor cabinet and threw open the doors. “Please tell me you saved a bottle,” Tony pleaded. He turned to her; his eyes were puffy. “Just one. I need it.”

“I’m sorry.” I truly am. 

He let out a loud, frustrated groan and let his head hand between his arms as he held the doors. She sighed and looked back down to the police report of Peter’s uncle being shot, killed, and dying in the child’s arms. 

What am I going to do with them?

Chapter Text

Despite Peter’s best efforts, he didn’t go to school the next day. He woke up late because he didn’t have Karen, Friday, or Mr. Stark to wake him up and his old phone’s battery was dead. There was also the fact that sleep encouraged healing, especially in the absence of food. When he woke up, he felt like hot dumpster garbage. 

Hungry hot dumpster garbage.

The emergency backpack he put together was made before his house was torn down and he had a somewhat steady stream of income back then, so he only packed two boxes of granola bars and candy. But Peter accidentally didn’t leave his wallet with the money and cards in it back at the tower in his rush. I hope Mr. Stark isn’t upset. There was no way he’d use the debit card, and he hoped his mentor wouldn’t be mad over a couple hundred dollars. It sounded like a lot, but with a metabolism like his and his now lack of proper clothes and supplies, wouldn't go far. Well Parker, it’s back to being young, penniless, and desperate.

Since there was no point in going to school, he decided to fix up his living situation. Time to get rid of some stairs. After the stairs were destroyed, he laid down webbing to secure his floor and ceiling. Most of the office had to be webbed to accomplish this to the point it looked like a large funnel, like May’s nest. I miss May already. I hope someone noticed her. And now he needed food. Four granola bars were eaten in record time and he webbed up three rats for later.  

Going to the Hotdog Hut for the first time out of his Spiderman suit was weird. Less weird than not being in school on a school day, but still weird. He ordered three foot-long dogs, some fries, and soda to satisfy the void that was his stomach. I hope this is enough, Karen usually keeps track of all this stuff. 

Peter just finished his first dog when two well-dressed people sat down on the opposite end of the table from him. The man looked at him and his food, “I know teenagers eat a lot, but dang, kid.”

“You’ll be eaten out of house and home when your kids reach his age,” the woman said to her companion. 

He lowered his hotdog and eyed the two warily, “can I help you guys?” Please don’t be part of the Vulture’s gang. 

“Hello Peter. I’m Detective Stagler and this is my partner, Detective Benton. We’re with the special victim’s unit. Do you know what that is?”

They’re going to arrest me! Oh no, they must know about Spiderman or something. Just need to play it cool for now.  “...no?”

They both took out their shiny gold badges for him. “It means we help people, men, women, and children, who have been the victims of sexually based crimes,” Detective Benton said gently. 

It felt like his heart stopped as well as his breathing. How could they know? “What are you doing here then?”

“Someone called and said you were being abused by your foster parent and we want to ask you a few questions at the station. Is that okay?”

“I guess I have to,” Peter said quietly. He got up and went to throw away the rest of his meal. 

Detective Stagler reached around and attempted to grab his arm, which Peter easily dodged. “We can wait until you’re finished.”

“I’m not hungry anymore.” Behind the building, he spotted a starved looking dog. Peter threw the hotdogs to her and gave the rest to the birds.

They walked him to a grey room with a table, three chairs, one light and a semi-transparent mirror that he could see straight through. They questioned him on how Mr. Dickenson treated him, and Peter saw no point in lying. The biggest surprise of the day was being informed that not only did Mr. Dickenson drug and try to take advantage of him, but he took multiple videos and photos of Peter naked. Why does this stuff keep happening to me?

After hearing that, his body became numb. 

He barely heard the detectives when they asked if he was okay. They tried to get him to answer more questions, but he stared down at the table until they left. His social worker came in and explained that he will be moved to a group home until they could find an emergency placement. No surprise there. He followed behind her unthinkingly to her car. 

The group home was a mid-sized house with two rooms dedicated to as many bunk beds as they could hold. Most of the other children paid him no mind, others sized him up. It wasn’t hard to sneak out because there were too many children and not enough adults to watch them. Peter went back to his water treatment plant to snack and get some sleep. He only went back to the group home to charge his phone and make sure the caretakers saw him at least once. 

On Sunday night they took him to his emergency placement’s house, a little old lady, whose house he also snuck out of. With his phone charged, he was able to set an alarm and get to school on time. Peter felt numb for the last couple days and it only stopped when Ned ran up to him. “Dude! What’s been going on? I’ve been trying to call you, but you haven't been picking up and two detectives came to my apartment looking for you. I’m worried,” Ned said frantically. 

Peter stood frozen in front of his friend. How much do I tell him? “I ran away from Dickenson’s house and he’s not going to be my foster father anymore,” Peter said quietly. 

“I thought you weren’t really living with him?” Ned asked, confused. 

“I wasn’t,” Peter said as he put a hand on the upper part of his arm, “and now I’m not…you know, on paper. Officially.”

Thankfully, Ned must have picked up on his discomfort because he dropped the topic. His friend didn’t even try to hide his worry through the day, that or Peter had gotten better at catching him. MJ stayed silent, but watched him closely, until he told her that he couldn’t make it to Decathlon practice that day. “I need to report to my new foster parent’s house,” Peter said dully. 

“Since when do they not want you to participate in extracurricular activities?” MJ said skeptically.

“Since this extracurricular led to half the club almost dying and I’ve been labeled at risk,” Peter said bitterly. Better bring it in a bit. They look too concerned now. “I should be able to return next week or the week after.”

Both looked startled, but they let him be. Throughout the day, there wasn’t a time where one of them wasn’t at his side except for gym. With his new label instead of going to gym, he was required to sit with the school counselor who he stared at for forty-five minutes a day in silence before leaving. At least I see less of Flash.  

His new foster parent was an older woman named Mrs. Shale. She used to be in social services and was able to retire by living comfortably on her and her late husband’s pension. Since he was an emergency case, the house wasn’t set up for another more permanent member, so his bed was an inflatable mattress on the floor of her living room. It was actually warm and cozy, especially in contrast to some of the other places he lived, but Peter didn’t feel safe. I’d be a lot better if I could climb on the walls or sleep on the ceiling.  

The living room was right off the front door, and she placed the mattress under a large bay window. It’s almost as if I’m a spider on display at a zoo. The woman herself was nice enough, but it was easy to tell she was the type of worker to do the bare minimum of her job when she wasn’t retired. At first, she watched him as a zookeeper did their charge and wrote things down in a little notepad. He read her notebook, it was filled with various behaviors, moods, and activities. After the first week though, he assumed she had enough data so she could lie about because she didn’t watch him as closely. 

Mrs. Shale did her paperwork and gave him food but chose not to interact with him much beyond that. What was interesting was that when she went to sleep at night, Peter would hear the click of the lock on her door. It’s like she thinks I’m a victim and a predator.     

He couldn’t blame her though, he’d lock a door at night if he had one. 

The bed and the food were the worst part because he could get more than an hour of uninterrupted sleep at a time. Random noises, anxiety, and his spider senses kept him on too much of an edge. Of course, she didn’t know he was enhanced, so the weight he proudly put on for the last few months had already begun to shed.  

As expected, the money Mr. Stark gave him (or that Peter stole depending on how you look at it) didn’t last long. It used to be a lot easier with money coming in from his business and for a long time Peter was used to being hungry. He subsisted on what he could, but now his stomach had always been full for weeks. Going back to limited resources was terrible. 

And just about as many people wanted to hire a fifteen-year-old as they did a thirteen-year-old. 

It’ll probably be easier to find a job when I’m sixteen. It still wouldn’t be enough to afford all the food he’d want and be able to start a college fund, but maybe he’d get lucky and get scholarships. I shouldn’t have thought that. The universe probably heard and is going to send aliens to take out everyone I’ve ever talked to and vaporize any money I make.  

I must make a pathetic sight. Bags and dark rings under his eyes and getting skinnier by the day. The teachers didn’t call on him anymore which was nice, it saved him a bit of energy. Anytime they could, Ned and MJ were at his side and made it their personal missions to give him extra food. Ned every day at lunch, and MJ at Decathlon. Liz tried to get him to speak at Decathlon too, but he brushed her off, even if it was rude.  

“Did you get a new number? Every time I try to call or text it doesn’t go through,” Liz said one day. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t know,” Peter said genuinely. “I can’t afford a phone plan right now, so I’m not getting calls or texts.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize-”

“It’s fine.”

From his peripheral vision, Peter could see his classmates give him sad and worrying glances. Great more rumors. The whispers in the hallway were like the ones from before he went to live with Mr. Stark, about him being twice orphaned and depressed.  

“Peter, can I speak to you for a moment?” Mr. Harrington said after practice.

“I’ll be right outside,” Ned said. 

“You don’t have to wait up,” Peter whispered. 

“Yes, we do,” MJ said. 

As everyone else left, he could hear the heartbeats of his friends outside. 

“Peter, are you settled into your new foster home?” Mr. Harrington asked.

He nodded. 

Like always, Mr. Harrington stayed at least half a room away from him. “You can tell me if you’re not and it’s okay if you’re not Peter,” he said quickly. 

How much does he know? “Of course, sir.”

“Peter,” Mr. Harrington said, his voice choked up, “people are here for you. We’ll help you.”

Like you guys do with Flash? Or all the other times I’m obviously in distress? When I come in not having slept or properly eaten? “Sure,” Peter said simply. He didn’t wait to be dismissed; he just left the classroom. 

For Easter, Mrs. Shale bought and roasted a small chicken and frowned when Peter took seconds. When he stared up at the ceiling that night, he thought of the Stark family ravioli. On nights he felt Mrs. Shale wouldn’t notice, he snuck out to the water treatment plant for safety and food. But there were only so many pigeons and rats one person could drink.

As the days went on his thoughts started to turn more desperate. The hunger gnawed at him, and even though he promised Karen months ago he wouldn’t, he had to go back to the dumpsters. The thought of Karen turned his stomach along with the smell of the garbage. Don’t think of her, just eat. 

The first time Peter dumpster dove, he couldn’t eat anything he scored, but as time went on, he had to choose between pride and a full stomach. Before his fangs grew in, it was how he had to get most of his calories, so he knew the best spots in town. The new padlocks restaurant and bodega owners put on were no match for him. The stomachache he got later, however, definitely was.

I’m starving. 

The sleeping problem had been helped, not solved, but helped. Every night Peter would sneak out at 11pm and be back in the house by five or six, so he was able to get some sleep and act more like a spider. Not being able to climb on walls for long periods of time was starting to make him twitchy. It was also the lack of food. There was only so much energy he could conserve by sleeping and staying put and it wasn’t enough. I’m going to die if I don’t figure something out. Every morning he would pass street vendors and the smell of grilled foods would almost cause his fangs to flip down. Occasionally, he’d see a cat or dog and his mind would halt. Or I’m going to do something I regret.  

It cost his last few dollars and a dive in a clothing donation box, but he got enough fabric to make a new costume. It was different from his old Spiderman suit. It had to be, he couldn’t have Spiderman associated with the underground again. 

“So kid, what’s your name?” Mac asked at signups. He didn’t even look up from his list and paperwork. 

“Don’t have one,” Peter answered in his new homemade suit. This is depressingly nostalgic. 

It must have been his voice that tipped the other man off, even if Peter tried to lower it usually gave him away. “You look different. How about a mammal this time? The Monkey sound good?” Mac asked.

“How about Night Monkey? I think it sounds cooler and works better with my costume.” He wore a stitched together mostly grey sweatshirt and pants combo with a mask that was mostly black but had white markings above and below the eyes. The eyes themselves were goggles that were tinted a dark brown to keep out excess light. 

“It’s good to have you back, Night Monkey. You’re going to be the low guy though, working the shitty slots until you gain new momentum.”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way,” Peter said. 

Night Monkey was so low on the totem pole that he had to work before the halftime show. To think, I used to be a headliner. Before the show started, he knocked on the dressing room door. 

“What the fuck do you want?” Felicia asked through the door in a sharp voice. 

“Are you decent? I can leave if you’re not,” Peter said quietly. 

There was silence for a moment, and it was like Peter could feel her widening smile through the barrier. “Of course. The lock is broken, do come in,” she said her voice now sultry. Peter was right, her smile stretched from ear to ear, and it only twitched for a moment as she eyed him up and down. “My my, Spider, you look different.”

“It’s Night Monkey now.” She looked different too, both physically and subtly in mannerism. Felicia was always a confident person, but she was also always cautious. She was a bit twitchier, one hand played with a strand of hair while the other tapped on the makeup counter with her nails. Felicia sat back and looked at him in a relaxed pose with her legs crossed, but one foot bounced lightly. The most striking difference of her visually were her hands, oddly enough, they were still feminine and dainty, but they appeared to be larger. 

“I like the black, it’s more flattering on you. So, you’re here to tell me you lost that job, and you can’t take me out to dinner like you promised? Am I right?”

“I’m sorry.”

“As you should be,” Felicia said with a huff. She turned away and put more foundation on her scars. “To think, I actually got excited. Shows me not to have hope.”

“Felicia…”

“Whatever. Are you going to sit or what? We apparently have a lot to catch up on.”

At least she’s not too upset. Peter walked over to the pink chaise lounge and sat down. They didn’t catch up, more so spoke about trivial things. Felicia gave him the rundown of the latest fighters and their ranks. Tonight was Man-wolf’s first night back after Grizzly had sliced him up, and Grizzly was starting to become more of a rising star himself. She told him that part bitterly and flexed her hands in an uncomfortable manner as she did so. 

She continued as she went behind a thin partition to change into her stage outfit. The light from behind the curtain illuminated her bare form as a shadow on the pink screen and Peter turned his head away as they spoke. Felicia chuckled, “you are far too good a man. Can you hand me the boa that’s on the couch?”

“Sure.” He handed her the feathered garment. Her head peeked over the partition and she had a smile on her face. A real one. Though as soon as her hand touched a feather, her pupils expanded. Fidgety, in relatively high spirits, high heartbeat, and large expanded pupils that took up most of the iris. Dammit. “Felicia, are you using again?”

His friend didn’t get a chance to answer because both their heads turned to the door quickly. There was someone stomping towards them and the door was thrown open. “There are a few matches before me. I want-who the hell are you?” Grizzly growled. His claws dug into the doorway and left deep marks. 

Peter took a step forward. “Felicia is a good friend of mine." 

Even though the brown shaggy fur he wore on his shoulders was fake, it appeared as though it was raised in anger. "Real good friend if you're in here when she's topless." 

“He is,” Felicia said easily. She wrapped the boa around her neck and tied it in a way that censored her chest. She walked out from behind the partition and linked her arm with Peter’s. “One of my best.”

“I wasn’t aware of him,” Grizzly growled. He stood up straighter and towered over them with his height eight feet tall. He only glanced at Peter for a moment before moving his murderous gaze over to her.  

“You don’t know everything about me,” Felicia said with false sweetness. She pressed closer to Peter and he could feel her tremble.

I need to be brave. “We should get going. My match is going to start soon.” Be big. Be just as intimidating as he is. Peter pulled Felicia as close to him as possible and tried to move out of the room, but Grizzly’s arm blocked them. “Can you move out of the way?”

Grizzly’s teeth were larger than a normal human's, especially the K-9s that were at least twice the size they were supposed to be and stained yellow. His overly muscular arm didn’t move from the door, in fact his obsidian claws sunk further into the drywall. “Neither of you are going anywhere.”  

“Yes, we are,” Peter told him. He grabbed the bear’s wrist and forcibly moved it out of the way. Grizzly’s arm bulged in protest, but no matter how big his muscles were, Peter was still stronger. I haven’t met a person who is stronger than me yet.  

They kept close as they walked down the hall. Peter kept his senses fine-tuned to make sure they weren't followed. "I'll install some locks on the door for you and the other women," Peter said. 

"We'd all appreciate it," Felicia said. "I'm glad that even with the change in suit, your confidence is still there." 

He smiled--even if she couldn't see--and turned to her with a tilted head. "Was that a direct complement? With no sarcasm at all? Where is the Ms. Hardy I know and love?"

"Fuck off," Felicia said with just as much playfulness. "And don't get used to it." 

When they walked out to the main area all eyes were on them. For the new patrons of the ring, it was probably because Felicia was topless except for the boa and wore black leather pants with a zipper in the crotch. For regulars it was probably that and the fact that everyone knew Felicia was Grizzly’s girl and he only permitted to look and not touch. She walked Peter to the ring and bent down to kiss the side of his head. Then she waved some man away to take his place in the front row. 

There were mumbles, grumbles, whispers, and talking as Peter climbed into the ring. I thought I left high school hours ago. By the end of the night Peter had a hundred dollars, some bruises, and respect. He made a new ally in Man-wolf because he was gentle with him as they fought and didn’t cause any lasting damage. Most people bet against him as a new fighter and were surprised by his agility and strength. 

Felicia cheered for him and after the match, he waited for her in the dressing room so he could accompany her home. They stopped for food on the way, and he paid for her meal at the diner, it was no Biagio’s, but it worked. For the first time in recent history, he was full as he curled up to sleep in his silken nest.

“People are starting to wonder where Spiderman is,” Ned said quietly one day at lunch. 

“I know.” It didn’t matter if Peter was Spiderman before Mr. Stark showed up, it felt like it was ripped away from him without the Stark suit. Even if he put on the old one, all the crumbs of respect he’d earned from the people would be swept away. I definitely shouldn’t be Spiderman anyway if all my jobs bigger than muggings almost got multiple people killed. And Peter wasn’t sure how many calories he needed a day, but he knew he needed a heck of a lot less if he wasn’t swinging around the city.      

“I know you don’t like talking about all this,” Ned started unsurely, “but why hasn’t your dad helped you out?”  

Pure fury went through him. “Richard Dickenson was never my father and you know I’m not living with him anymore,” he hissed.

“Woah, sorry dude, I meant your other father you know.” Ned leaned closer to him and whispered, “Mr. Stark.”

The fury drained from him immediately and became overwhelming sadness. Maybe he could have been. Peter sat there numb, and he could hear Ned’s heartbeat pick up and he noticed MJ stopped reading her book but didn’t look up from it. “No,” Peter said finally. “I’m going to get a snack.” 

The lunch ladies gave him the eye because they knew he already used his free lunch voucher for the day, but he ignored them and grabbed another serving. Today it was pizza sticks with marinara sauce with a side of chips and fruit. It’s okay, you have enough money for this. Just focus on the fact that you’ll be a little less hungry. As he stepped back out his spider senses throbbed at the base of his neck. It was nothing to be too worried about, he was just about to pass Flash’s table. 

I’m not going to feed into his ego today. Peter easily stepped over Flash’s extended foot and kept on his way. This must have made Flash upset because he walked up to Peter and slung an arm around Peter’s neck. “Hey Penis, didn’t you already have lunch today? Or are you bringing seconds to your boyfriend over there?”

“Get off me Flash,” Peter said back. Generally, Flash had kept his taunts to just within ear shot, so Peter couldn’t say anything back without looking like a weirdo. But since his downward spiral began, his bully started to circle him as a vulture does a piece of carrion.

“Why? I just want to talk. I guess your sugar daddy let you go, huh?” Flash said with a smirk. “Because you really look like the garbage you’re supposed to be.”

This time Peter shrugged off Flash’s arm and tried to put distance between them. “Flash, I’m not in the mood.”

“Whatever.” Unexpectedly, as Flash began to walk away, he knocked the lunch tray up, so the food fell onto Peter’s stomach and chest and then on the floor. The marinara sauce stained his shirt and dripped down to his pants. Flash was laughing at him until Peter gripped his shoulder and pulled them face to face. “Woah, hey-”

“Next time you say anything or do anything like that to me again, I’m going to beat the shit out of you,” Peter said in a low, hoarse voice. He had both hands on Flash’s shoulders and squeezed them lightly, but light to Peter was enough to bruise. Flash squirmed in his hold and Peter could both hear and feel his heart rate accelerate and sense the fear rolling off him. Peter felt his pupils contract and his fangs twitch at the sight of an alive warm body trapped in his grip. 

“Break it up!” Dr. Connors, the teacher on lunch duty, shouted as he approached them. Peter let go of Flash and gulped down a breath. “Both of you are going to the principal’s office. Let’s go.”

As they walked out of the lunchroom, Peter saw Ned’s frightened face and MJ’s calculating one. Flash’s heartbeat and breathing were still fast as they went down the hall together with Connors between them. Calm down Peter. Calm down. You didn’t almost try to eat Flash or anything. Connors and Flash went into Principal Moritia’s office first and Peter sat down on the chairs outside. 

“He just attacked me! I think I have bruises!” Flash said inside. Even with the door closed and thick walls, Peter could still hear Flash tell his side of the story.

I need to do something about this. I can’t let this happen again. His stomach growled at the smell of the marinara sauce on him. Ugh, I spent money on that lunch too! And my shirt and pants are going to be stained! He only packed five shirts and three pants in his emergency bag, and he didn’t have the funds for anymore. I have to work more. Fridays and Saturdays aren’t cutting it. 

“Hey Peter, I heard you had some trouble at lunch,” Mr. Harrington said as he sat down in an empty chair that was three away from him.

Peter nodded, “what are you doing here?”

“I figured you could use someone in your corner,” Mr. Harrington said kindly. 

Dr. Connors came out and gestured for Peter to go inside and frowned when he saw Mr. Harrington at his side but didn’t say anything. They walked in and Peter sat down in a chair in front of Moritia’s desk and Mr. Harrington kept his usual few feet distance.

“So, Mr. Parker, what happened in the lunchroom today?” Dr. Moritia asked. 

“Flash and I had a disagreement,” Peter said quietly. He kept his eyes down to Dr. Moritia’s desk. 

“You caused bruising Peter,” Dr. Moritia said with a sigh. 

“You know what? Yeah, I did!” Peter said as his head snapped up to meet his principal’s eyes. Never mind that most students and even teachers have seen and heard Flash harassing him for literal years and have done nothing about it. But because it’s Flash and his parents donate to the school. Or the bruises he leaves on me are gone in the morning, it’s okay. Or he just makes me feel like dirt and because it’s not physical, it’s okay. It’s okay because it’s Flash and I’m Peter. And I always have to be the bigger person even if I’m smaller!

Somewhere, from far away, Peter knew people were talking to him. Their voices were muffled in his ears and drowned out by his hyperventilation. Everything became sharp and crisp when his spider senses flared as a hand tried to grip him from the other side of the desk. “Stop! Just stop! I’m tired of people looking at me and touching me! STOP!” Peter yelled. I wish I could be up on the ceiling. Instead, he brought his legs up to his chest and wrapped his arms around him. 

Dr. Moritia pulled his hand away as if Peter were on fire and appeared wholly uncomfortable with the situation. “Peter,” he cleared his throat, “do you want me to call anyone for you?”  

“Who?” Peter asked tearfully, “who are you going to call? Are you going to call the guy who wanted to molest me? Because he’s in jail. Or maybe the woman that I just started living with and never talks to me? My social worker who sent me to these places? Just give me my punishment and let me get back to my day.”

Mr. Harrington and Dr. Moritia glanced at each other. “Usually, physical alterations like this would lead to suspension or explosion, but I think another alternative would be best here. Peter, I want you to see the school counselor twice a day, at gym and after school and you’ll be suspended from all extracurriculars and school function for the rest of the year,” Dr. Moritia said.

It’s not like I can say no. Peter nodded.

“Jim, I’m not sure this is the best course of action,” Mr. Harrington spoke up. “It’s obvious that Peter is going through some hard times, and I don’t think taking more things away from him is going to help.”

Mr. Harrington obviously doesn’t know my life is a game of give and take. And mostly it’s just take. 

“Roger, I know you,” Dr. Moritia paused, and his attention went back to Peter, “Peter, can you wait outside for a minute while Mr. Harrington and I discuss this?”

Peter nodded again and left the office. He waved to the secretary as he exited the school. Signups start at three and I need to get ready. 

Back, way back to when May and Ben were alive, Peter made rules for himself when he fought at the ring. He limited himself to only Friday and Saturday nights, mostly so his body could rest and heal any and all injuries he’d sustained from fighting. However, starving to death and or eating an animal live other than a rat or pigeon were also not options he wanted to take. 

Mac wasn’t surprised to see him; he gave Peter more of a ‘I knew you’d do this eventually’ type of vibe and signed him into the roster. Then he went down the familiar hallway to the girl’s dressing room. He knocked on the door, as he usually did, and got a multitude of voices telling him to fuck off and go away. “Oh, I’m sorry, can one of you just tell Felicia I was here?”

“Fuck you bitches,” Felicia said through the door. Multiple locks clicked and she threw open the door. The other women yelled at her and covered themselves as Felicia grabbed his wrist and pulled him through the doorway. She led him to her corner of the dressing room and set up the partition between them and the other women. “You don’t need to keep your eyes down anymore, I’m decent. Now, what are you doing here on a school night?”   

He shifted on the pink chaise lounge and rubbed his arm. “Bad day.”

It may have been his voice or his actions, but instead of jumping into jokes and banter she took her boa gently laid it around his neck. “We have a lot of time before the matches start, kitten. Why don’t we sit and chat for a while?” 

Like usual, they didn’t talk about anything important. Felicia spoke about furnishing her new apartment and her job prospects for when she leaves the arena and Peter talked about some movies and shows that he liked. After some careful prodding on Felicia’s part, he told her about his day at school, but in a roundabout way. I like Felicia, but I really don’t need her selling me out for a quick buck. 

The other women called in for food and Felicia waved a handful of cash to put in for the both of them. “I feel like I’m supposed to pay for dinner,” Peter said as she gave the order. 

“I can hear your stomach eating itself. And I didn’t forget that you still owe me three meals at Biagio’s,” Felicia teased. “I know you’ll return the favor.”

And that’s how Peter ended up eating Thai food in a room full of strippers. Everyone was in some state of undress, and Peter pulled up his mask, so his mouth was exposed. Once Felicia introduced him and he talked for a few minutes, most of them either left him alone or gave him portions of their food. One woman said Peter reminded her of her son. It’s a good thing Karen isn’t here to see this. She’d probably be yelling at me to get out of here right now. 

The atmosphere in the room was almost fun and Peter enjoyed listening to all the women’s stories about their days. He smiled to himself when he overheard one offering to get Felicia drugs later, and she turned it down. “I told you, I’m clean now,” Felicia insisted. She seemed to have calmed and became less twitchy. 

There was another knock on the door. Shouts broke out that consisted of “fuck off!”, “it’s not time yet!”, “who is it?”, “go screw yourself!”.

“Hey, hey, ladies, I’m just here to give you the schedule of the fights tonight,” Mac said from outside. He slipped the paper under the door which was snatched up immediately. “And sorry in advance, kid. The powers that be really wanted you to fight him.” Mac’s footsteps went back down the hall. 

Once all the women glanced at the schedule it was handed to Peter. Tonight, he was up against Grizzly and it was strongly suggested that he should lose. Like regular wrestling, the fights tended to be fixed, especially based on what types of bets were laid down. Grizzly was a rising star here in the arena, so it was no surprise they wanted the large man to win. People who liked to bet and the ones that liked to spectate both enjoyed Grizzley’s matches because of his brutality that made them hard to fake. 

“You’ll do great, kitten. Don’t worry,” Felicia said over his shoulder. She sounded confident, but her heartbeat gave away her nervousness.    

When the time came, all the women in the room wished him good luck and Felicia walked him to the ring and sat in the front row, like usual. He climbed in with Grizzly and the cage lowered itself. Peter heard a low hum that signified the electricity pulsing through the metal. I’ll never get used to this. 

“Round five! Grizzly against Night Monkey!” Mac yelled from outside the ring. 

Grizzly let out a low bellied laugh, “I’ve been waiting for this.”     

Uncle Ben had been the first person to teach him how to fight. Mostly defensive moves to help with the little bullies of middle school. His next teacher was the ring, and Felicia when she was sober enough and bribed. I really should have asked Happy to train me or something. Peter had a lot of practice dodging as Spiderman though, which was useful especially when Grizzly brought out his claws immediately. 

Duck. Lean left. Duck. To the right. Jump. Fall. “That all you got, baby bear?” Night Monkey taunted. His main problem tonight was that he was supposed to lose, and normally when the fights were fixed, everyone played nice. Rough the other person up a bit, give the people a good show, and no one gets hurt. There’s no way Grizzly is going to be gentle with me, I better tire him out first. 

Dodge. Jump. Flip. Turn. Sweep. The sweep was supposed to cause the man to fall, but Peter didn’t put enough power into it, and it was just a hard kick to the legs. Grizzly roared and was able to take the second Peter took to change his plan to grab the back of his costume and throw him into the cage walls. 

Ow ow ow ow owowowoOW. PAIN! Peter fell back onto the ground and stared up to the gross, dusty ceiling as his head spun. Putting webs up there would make it so much nicer. His spider senses cut through the muffled feeling in his head and rolled out of the way on instinct alone. Grizzly’s claws caught the upper part of his arm and caused deep marks in the floor below them. The crowd cheered when they saw the slash marks and red seeping out of his costume. 

“Rude,” Peter muttered. 

Grizzly turned back to him. “Next time it’ll be your face!”

The crowd cheered at that too but started to boo when Peter dodged all his swipes, punches, grabs, and threw none of his own. Generally, during Night Monkey’s matches he used his opponent’s momentum to flip and pin them. Not the most exciting thing in the world, but it usually worked. When Grizzly ran towards him again, Peter stepped out of the way, but only enough so that he could grab the man by the waist and throw him to the ground. 

Peter pretended to be out of breath to give Grizzly a chance to get back up. I wish I could use webs or climb walls. I think it’s time to end this. Peter went up to Grizzly and punched him softly with his injured arm. “I knew you weren’t so strong. I’m not sure why my girl likes you so much, but she’ll come back to me once she realizes you can’t protect her,” Grizzly said.

“Dude, she hates you,” Peter said as he blocked the retaliation punch.    

Then Grizzly grabbed Peter’s injured arm and slammed him down to the ground repeatedly. It was clear the bear was tired, and he was about to win. Grizzly brought his clawed hand down to the scratches he made previously and continued them down Peter’s arm. “Ahhh!” Peter screamed as the crowd cheered louder. It’s okay. He’s just standing over you and clawing you. The marks won’t last and if you need to, you can still get up.

“It doesn’t matter if she hates me. It only matters if I can get her alone.” He leaned down to be closer to Peter’s face, “and it won’t matter if she’s screaming my name or screaming for me to stop. She won’t be thinking of you.”

Mac was just about to call the match when Peter jumped up and purposely threw the man into the electrified cage. Then like Grizzly did before, Peter picked him up and slammed him into the ground. Once the larger man was stunned, he put a foot on his back, grabbed an arm and dislocated it. “You are not going to touch her. And if you go near her again, you’re not going to have an arm anymore,” Peter said as he tugged on the appendage. 

Grizzly yelled in pain from his arm and the foot that dug into his spine as Mac called the match. “Night Monkey is victorious!”

Peter didn’t release Grizzly until the electric cage shut off and raised from around them. He quickly scurried to Felicia’s side she helped him back to the dressing room. The other women gave him sad looks as he and Felicia limped to the chaise lounge in the back. From a drawer in her makeup station, she pulled out some medical supplies and threw them to him.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Felicia said as she watched him tend to his wound. 

“Win the match? Yeah, the organizers are going to be mad at me for that.” He hissed as the rubbing alcohol touched the still bleeding slashes. 

“I can take care of myself.”

“Doesn’t mean you have to.” I wish I had my sewing supplies. 

Her bright green eyes continued to watch him. “It’s interesting,” Felicia started, “that even without the suit, you’re still Spiderman.”

“I don’t feel like it.” His body and mind were tired. The shocks from the electricity made it ache everywhere, there were bruises all over, and his arm was torn to shreds. I want to be at the tower where Friday, Karen, and Mr. Stark would help me. Peter trembled and held back his tears. Stop thinking about them. You’re by yourself again. 

“Girls, you’re out in five!” Mac yelled through the door.

“I think you should get some rest. Sleep here until the matches are done and after we settle up for the night, I’ll take you home,” Felicia said. 

I don’t have the strength to argue. Peter nodded and laid down on the couch. He turned away so Felicia could quickly finish her look and fell into a trance, rather than sleep. It was better to be half awake then the other options. He could still hear motions of dressing and light conversations around him and then it was quiet. The room smelled like a combination of takeout food, various perfumes, and cigarettes, which he would have thought would smell gross, but it was nice. The best part was that his senses didn’t keep him on alert. 

Sometime later he was woken up by someone stroking his head, similar to how you would a cat. He groaned. “Come on kitten, it’s time to go home.”

I wish I could go home. They were the last two in the room, and Felicia had already changed into her normal clothes. His senses flared when they neared the door and then his hearing picked up breathing and a heartbeat. “Felicia-,” Peter whispered.

“I can hear him,” she cut in. 

“You know who it is?” Peter asked. 

“You don’t? You’re off your game, Spider Monkey.”

“I don’t know if I can take him again,” Peter said truthfully. 

Felicia smirked and flipped off the lights. His pupil’s expanded so he could see in the near darkness, and interestingly enough, hers did too. “I can.” She brought up her hand and flexed her fingers so sharp curved claws came out from under her human nails. 

“I thought you were human? How did this happen?” Peter asked in a worried whisper.

“We all do things to survive. Ready?” She swung open the door.

Even though they were not in the ring and Mac wasn’t there to commentate, it was the match of the night. Grizzly was caught off guard by them and didn’t expect Felicia’s claws in chest or Peter knocking him down to the floor. 

“I’ve been waiting years for this,” Felicia growled. The larger man was disoriented on the ground and Felicia stood over him with a raised hand that was brought down swiftly across Grizzly’s face. He roared as his hands went to cover his damaged eyes. “I’m not letting you get back up.”

Peter came up from behind, grabbed her, and dragged her away. “You’re not going to kill him!”

“Let me go!” she screeched.

Unfortunately, people who were still milling about the arena rushed to the area to see what the screaming was about. They were able to get into her car without any incidents and Peter gave her directions to the water treatment plant. “He’s not worth the murder charge,” Peter said quietly. 

“Debatable.” They pulled up to the abandoned water treatment plant and Felicia gave him a sideways look. 

“We all do things to survive,” he said plainly. “And I move around a lot.”

She hummed and unlocked the doors. “If you ever need a shower or something, swing by my place. You know where it is.”

“What would it cost me a night?” Peter asked lightly as he opened the door. 

“Just another dinner,” Felicia said with a grin. “Try to have a nice night, kitten.”

“You too.” She waited until he was inside the plant before she drove off. 

Peter climbed up the walls and curled into his nest but couldn’t fall asleep. His body throbbed and hunger pains started to creep into his mind. Despite having these powers for over a year, Peter still didn’t know how much he could do. Most of what he did was show restraint. Can’t punch a human too hard, it could cause their head to explode or something. Can’t pull on a web attached to a building too much or it could cause structural damage. Don’t inject things with too much venom, you don’t know what that would do. But the biggest unknown was how much his body could take. 

If everything was perfect, meaning he had the right amount of food, sleep, medical supplies, and Karen helping him, how much could his body handle? Bullets and falling off the Washington Monument may kill him, but what about a regular fall off a skyscraper? Would the bullets be enough? Blood loss?

I wish Karen was here to talk to me. Or play me some music. Or even urge me to get some sleep. I miss her so much. 

Peter knew he probably should have gone back to Mrs. Shale’s house just in case he bled out or had internal damage and that he probably shouldn’t have gone to school the next day, but it’s not like he had anyone to tell him to do anything different. Those things did become more apparent when he walked into homeroom, and his teacher took one look at him, blinked with widened eyes, and told him to go to the principal’s office. Not even a minute into class. 

The police were also there. So, there was that.

His spider senses weren’t going off, but the sight of the detectives made Peter feel uneasy. They only waited until he gingerly sat down in the same chair as the day before to start asking him questions. “So, Peter, where were you last night?” Detective Benton asked. 

I really hope they don’t try to pin a murder on me. I think at this point I’d accept it and rot in jail forever, though. “At my foster parent’s house,” Peter lied. 

“Really? Because we went there to check up on you and Mrs. Shale had no idea where you were and you didn’t go home yesterday after you cut school,” Detective Stagler said as he leaned against one of Principal Moritia’s cabinets. 

“I wouldn’t call that place home,” Peter said instead of answering. 

“Why is that?” Benton asked with far too much interest. 

“Haven’t been there for that long.” 

Detective Stagler hummed. “Or is it because of that limp you have and the injuries we don’t see that caused you to have to sit in that chair like that.”

“She’s not abusing me.”

“But you didn’t deny those injuries,” Detective Benton pointed out. 

Peter shifted in his chair. His breakfast that morning consisted of two small rats, which were nice but didn’t do much to speed along his healing process. If they forced him to go to the doctor’s now there would be a lot more questions that he didn’t want to answer. “I went to work yesterday,” Peter said carefully. 

“And where do you work?”

What should I say? I can’t tell them I’m fighting man bears in my free time because I’m a man spider. Instead of speaking, Peter remained quiet and kept his head down. 

“Peter, we can’t help you if you don’t talk to us,” Detective Benton said gently. 

“I don’t want help. I just want to go home,” Peter said as he went into a balled-up position with his legs to his chest and arms wrapped around himself. 

“And where would that be?”

At the tower with Friday, Karen, and Mr. Stark.

Luckily, Peter didn’t have to answer her because there was a knock at the door and Mr. Harrington poked his head through. “Hello, I was informed that Peter is in here.”

“Who are you?” Detective Stagler asked. 

“I’m Roger Harrington, I’m a teacher here and guardianship of Peter is currently being transferred over to me from his current foster parent, Helen Shale,” Mr. Harrington explained. 

“We weren’t informed of this,” Detective Stagler said walking over to him. 

“My fiancée is a social worker, and she started the process today seeing as Mrs. Shale isn’t an ideal fit for Peter’s needs.”

From there, Peter’s school day became a big mess of the police trying to figure out what was going on, his social worker trying to explain things, and Mr. Harrington and his fiancée, Ms. Taniel Sarr, arguing on Peter’s behalf. Most of the adults only argued amongst themselves and didn’t bring Peter into it too often to the point where they sent him to sit outside again. This time, the secretary kept a sharp eye on him, but she was still nice enough to get him food and the schoolwork he missed. 

By the end of the day, he was released into Mr. Harrington and Ms. Sarr’s care. Their apartment was the smallest space he’d lived in for a while. It made sense considering they were on a teacher and a social worker’s salary. It was homey though, warm and decorated with smiling photographs of the two of them and their family. There was even a picture of Mr. Harrington dressed up as Spock and Ms. Sarr as Uhura at Comic Con last year. The tour of their apartment ended in a little room that was big enough for a bed and a desk. “I know it’s not much, but it’s something,” Mr. Harrington said. 

“It’s good, thank you,” Peter said. 

They all sat down at the circular four-person table for dinner, which was a mountain of spaghetti. Even when they all had their first serving, both Mr. Harrington and Ms. Sarr encouraged him to have more. “You look far too thin, kiddo,” Ms. Sarr said. 

He had seconds and thirds and then they cleaned up together, it still wasn’t enough food, but it took the edge off. Afterwards they sat back down at the table. “Now Peter, I know things are difficult for you, and I hope being here will make your life a little easier,” Mr. Harrington said. His voice sounded choked and not like anything Peter usually heard through the day.

“And we really want you to be comfortable here. And happy. You deserve it,” Ms. Sarr said. 

“Okay?” Peter looked between them and waited. This can’t be it. They must want something from me.

“I’m going to get ready for bed,” Ms. Sarr said, and she squeezed Mr. Harrington’s hand, “how about you two sit and chat for a bit? Call out if you need anything. Either of you.” She slowly got up and walked to their bedroom. 

Mr. Harrington cleared his throat and looked all together very nervous. “Peter, I’m sorry.”

That’s not what I expected. Peter tilted his head, “for what?”

“For not doing anything sooner.”

“That’s not your fault. It’s nobody’s fault. These things just happen to me.”

It looked like Mr. Harrington was about to cry. “Peter, these things that happen to you. It’s not all life is, I swear.” And now his teacher was crying. 

This is not what I expected at all. This is so awkward. I’m so terrible for making my teacher cry. “I um, I know? Like I said these things just kinda happen. Better me than someone else, right?” 

“No, not right.” Mr. Harrington pulled a handkerchief out of his pants pocket and wiped his face. “And all of us around you. Me, Taniel, Dr. Moritia, the detectives. We just want to help you, but we need you to talk to all of us, so everything can get better.”

“About what?” Peter asked. What do they possibly want to know? I already told them about Mr. Dickenson. They must think Mrs. Shale was abusing me too. I should have hidden my injuries better.

“You don’t have to say anything until you’re ready. But the detectives are going to want to know about Mr. Dickenson, Mrs. Shale, and Mr. Stark and your relationship with each of them.”

“Why Mr. Stark? He was my mentor for my internship.”

Mr. Harrington looked very uncomfortable again. “And nothing else?”

It felt like Peter’s heart broke in his chest. “No, of course not! Mr. Stark would never do anything to me. He took care of me and made me feel at home!”

“And it’s a little suspicious that he took such an interest in you and you basically lived with him,” Mr. Harrington explained calmly. 

This is it. This is what Ms. Potts said was going to happen. People are going to assume the worst. If this gets out to the media, he’ll be ruined. I need to stop this. Peter looked up to his teacher, someone who had been in his life since freshman year and flipped down his fangs. “I’m enhanced.” The back half of the word sounded like a hiss.

His teacher stared at his fangs with shock and pushed his chair away from the table. 

He’s afraid of me? Peter made his fangs go back into his mouth. “I got the internship and Mr. Stark found out I was enhanced. I didn’t mean to start living at the tower, but it happened, and it became home. It’s the only place I really feel safe. Please don’t tell anyone. I can’t let it get out that I’m like this.”

“I won’t tell anyone about your...differences. But Peter, you haven’t been doing well in the past several weeks. Has anything happened besides being moved officially?” Mr. Harrington asked carefully.

Peter held his arm tightly where Grizzly clawed him. “We had a fight and Ms. Potts said it would be better if I left the tower. I haven’t talked to either since.”

“And he hasn’t contacted you?”

“No. He hasn’t.” 

“Okay.” Mr. Harrington nodded again. “I know you said something about being hurt at work and I want you to know you won’t be able to do that anymore. The officers today-”

“I heard them,” Peter interrupted. Saying that he got hurt when he was working led Detective Benton to explain to the other adults that children who are abused are more likely to go into sex work. Even if Peter wasn’t in the room when she said it, it still made him feel deeply uneasy. “And I’m not a prostitute, thanks. I fight at night. With my enhancements, I need a lot to eat. That’s where I was yesterday.”  

“Well, you won’t need to fight anymore. You’ll have enough food here.”

Peter looked around at the tiny space. “I’m not sure I will. I never saw what Mr. Stark’s grocery bill when food was delivered, but I know it was a lot. Tonight I would have needed another large serving or two to be full.”

“We’ll figure something out.” Mr. Harrington sighed. “You know, I never believed that Mr. Stark was doing anything to hurt you.” 

“You didn’t sound like it.”

He pulled out his phone and showed it to Peter. There were many logs of calls from Anthony Stark as far back as the Washington Monument incident. The most recent was two days ago. “He cares far too much.”

He cares? “Why wouldn’t he speak to me then?”

“I don’t know. But I’m sure even being Tony Stark there are things that he can’t do.” 

Peter looked up to him defiantly, “Mr. Stark can do anything.” He still cares.

“Yeah, he can.” Mr. Harrington put his phone away. “There was something else I wanted to talk to you about tonight. You left before Dr. Moritia told you your punishment from the other day.”

Oh yeah, I forgot about that. Peter winced. “I’m not expelled, right?”

“No, but you still need to go to the counselor twice a day and you are suspended from all school functions except the dance at the end of the year. I know you were looking forward to that.”

“Thanks, Mr. Harrington.”

“Of course, Peter. You deserve it.”

That night, Peter was able to sleep in his tiny room. He didn’t feel as safe as he did in the tower, but it was good enough with the locked door and sitting on the ceiling wrapped in webbing. It’s amazing how easy it is to sleep when something good happens. And you have something to look forward to.  

Chapter Text

“Watch me,” Tony said as he stomped away from the detectives and into his office. He sat in his chair and with a wave of his arms, projections appeared in front of him. They were all filled with the self-help books and research on abused children that Karen gave him. “Friday, get me CPS on the phone. Get it through. Force it if you have to.”

It took three rings for someone to pick up and after each, Tony got angrier. “CPS, what can I do for you?”

“I’m Tony Stark and I’d like information on one of the children that are in your care,” Tony said in a forced calm voice. 

The young woman made a sound of disbelief. “We don’t appreciate prank-”

“I’m sure as shit not a prank caller and if you hang up on me, I’ll get your ass fired so fast the goddamn fire department wouldn’t be able to save you. I want to talk to whatever superior you have because I have some questions and concerns about a kid named Peter Parker. And I want information. Now.” Maybe I could have held in the anger a bit more here, but fuck it, I’m Tony Stark.  

There was a bout of prolonged silence. “I’m transferring you now.” 

It took another minute, but a new voice came onto the phone. “Hello, I’m Patricia Hamilton, director of The Foundling. What can I do for you, Mr. Stark?” On his holo screens he typed in her name and got The Foundling’s webpage. She appeared to be an older woman in her fifties that had shoulder length blonde hair with highlights.  

“Yes, like I said to your underling, I’m interested in one of your foster children. Peter Parker.”

“Interested in what way?” Patricia asked. Her voice was pitched in a fake happy manner and he could hear the clicking of her keyboard, “I see you are in the process of obtaining your foster parent certificate! Now let me see the status...oh.” 

“Yeah, ‘oh’ is right. I know I should have done this a month ago, but I want to become the legal guardian of Peter Parker. I am aware of all the challenges he has faced through his life and I’m ready to help him through this trying time.” Pepper, Rhodey, and Happy would be so proud of me. 

She took a minute to answer, and Tony imagined her reading whatever report she brought up on Peter. “Mr. Stark, I’m afraid I can’t authorize that,” Patricia said. 

“Why the hell not? I’m completing your foster parent course, I’m sober, in a loving relationship, and oh yeah, I’m rich.” 

“That does not mean you are the best candidate to house and raise Peter for the remainder of his childhood.” Patricia’s voice still had the fake happiness in it, but it was quickly being overshadowed with annoyance.

“I’m a literal superhero!” Tony yelled at her, then he tried to compose himself. “Sorry, for raising my voice, but I’m not just going to look after him for the remainder of his childhood, I want to provide him everything. The whole shebang, you know, being part of my family for the rest of my life type deal. And I say my life because I’m pretty sure the goal is to get your kid to outlive you.” 

Patricia didn’t even need a second to respond. “I still can’t do anything, Mr. Stark. You’re not a good match.”

“Did you miss the part where I said I’m rich? I could donate more money to you than the federal government gives you in a year. Or several. My tower is one of the safest places in the world and he’s been my personal intern for almost a year. I can’t think of a better candidate.”

“I’m sorry Mr. Stark, but due to the circumstances Peter won’t be available for fostering.”

Tony took a deep breath and exhaled noisily. “If he is still in the system then he is able to be fostered. You know I can make this ugly, right?”

“Sure, you could do that, but that would endanger the welfare of this child,” Patricia countered.   

“By ensuring he has a safe and loving home?”

“By making this ugly and having the press catch on. You know what they’ll do to this story. To him. To you.”

Fuck. I know she’s right. “I don’t care what they say about me, I’ve been in this game for too long.”

“But you care about Peter and you know that as soon as the press catches wind of the orphan Tony Stark is looking to adopt, the files, police reports, and anything that you ever found will be in the public eye in hours.” 

Everything that has to do with Peter’s past and now it would include the photos and videos of him that Dickenson took.  

“I’m not saying no because you’re Iron Man and any villain of the week could blow up your tower at any time or because your superhero friends that went rogue or because you could be thrown into space and die at any moment. I’m saying no because this is an at risk, fragile teenager and Iron Man can’t save him. And that’s because Iron Man is Tony Stark, and there is no changing that.”

Between his gritted teeth Tony asked, “what are my options?”

“Well, if you want any chance of seeing this child again then I suggest you don’t contact him in any way. It’ll only make you look suspicious. A man who has all the money and power in the world preying on a twice orphaned teenager who's been sexually abused before? The press will tear you apart and the courts would never allow it. You should lay low and wait until you can apply to be his guardian.” 

He blinked at her stupid smiling picture in disbelief. “Not contact him? That’s insane lady, are you on crack? How would I make sure he’s okay? How would I be able to make sure that no other creep does this shit to him again!”

“We’re going to have to trust that the system will do its job.”

“Like the fantastic job it was doing before?” Tony said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. 

“Yes,” Patricia said simply. “Now if you are still looking to donate, I can send you information on our foundation through email.”

“Yeah, sure. Whatever.”

“Excellent, it was nice talking to you, Mr. Stark.”

Tony made a noncommittal hum and hung up. That bitch was worse than Fury. At least he doesn’t try to fuck me over with a smile on his face and then extort me for money. He has the goddamn courtesy to do it with a frown. Though there were several crucial things that were pointed out to him during the whole conversation. Firstly, that the press are all assholes, a lesson he’s known since he could form thoughts and opinions, and they will do the things she said so he should get his lawyers involved. Secondly, even if the shit with Dickenson didn’t happen, they would have still needed to find a work around for Tony to foster Peter. Another thing he’d have to call the lawyers in for. 

And lastly, money and his name were not going to get him out of this. In fact, they were part of the reason why he was in this situation. People were suspicious of him because he had money and power and he was close to Peter. It was pretty fucked up that they were so afraid (or worse assumed) the kid would get hurt again that everyone thought he was safer with a stranger. 

Hell, maybe he is.     

At least whatever stranger they put him with would keep him out of world ending disaster movie type shit. Or maybe Peter would end up with another sicko that was only going to use him. 

But there was nothing Tony Stark could do about that because he wasn’t allowed to contact Peter in any way. He couldn’t even tell the kid that everything was going to be okay and smooth things over after their fight at the ferry. But there was time to think about that later. Now there was only one question on his mind: how could he help his kid? And the simple answer was that he couldn’t.

Some superhero I am. 

He slammed his fist down on his desk causing a loud noise and some of the tech on his desk to shatter. Then he brought one hand up to his forehead and covered his eyes. His nose started to become stuffed, and his throat began to close. Come on, Stark men don’t cry. Stop. He wiped his face to get rid of any stray wetness that made its way there. Stop.

From the corner of his eye, he saw the spider--May, her name is May--come out of her nest and stare at him. Tony stared back at her and watched her position her body so she could see all around the room and then started to lay down webbing to make her home bigger. She carefully weaved each one with purpose much like how Peter would on the ceiling. 

I need a drink. 

Tony threw open his office door and slammed it behind him. In a fury, he stomped to his liquor cabinet to see if he could find relief. For the first time ever, he saw the wood at the back because there was nothing to block the view. Every damn bottle was gone. His arms stayed at the doors and they rattled when he started to shake. “Please tell me you saved a bottle,” Tony pleaded to the love of his life. “Just one. I need it.” I just need one. Or two. Or several for fucks sake. 

Pepper also looked like she had been crying as she clutched a Stark Pad. “I’m sorry,” she choked out. 

He groaned in frustration and his head fell between his arms. 

I am too. 

The first day Peter was gone, every hour was a reminder to why Tony drank. His schedule was clear since the press conference and Pepper left an hour after the detectives did. It was Friday and she still had work to do. Perhaps tomorrow, she said, but Tony knew she would still have to work at least a couple hours on the weekend, like always. 

At the usual time school got out, Tony itched to check his phone. It passed, but the itch came back at the time Decathlon usually ended. And again, late into the night (or the early morning) when Peter usually came back from patrol. In between the times where he itched to check his phone, Tony didn’t know what to do with himself. In the lab, he couldn’t focus on anything and anytime he looked over to Peter’s workstation his hands would shake. The wave machine he ordered months ago to test their experimental buoy finally came, but Tony didn’t have the heart to assemble it. 

There was no way he could go to meetings for at least a couple days. Not with the constant worry that was going through his head. If I weren’t in a meeting maybe I could have gotten there sooner or been able to watch him closer. Any emails, books, or articles, he just stared at until he closed them.  

God knew he couldn’t leave the penthouse. His own employees had gone back eyeing him and whispering behind his back. It’s like I’m in college again. Not only that, but now the Iron Man and Spiderman team up was the hot topic and reporters were staked out on the streets. If he took one step outside, he would be mobbed anywhere he went. 

I guess the kid was right. I might as well be a princess trapped in my ivory tower. 

An ivory tower that had an elevator with numbers that indicated someone was coming up to see him. A very tired looking Happy stepped out of the elevator and approached him as he sat on the couch. “Hello, my shining night, what can I do for you?” Tony said with fake happiness. 

“I already know what’s been going on, I just wanted to see you,” Happy answered. His friend sat down beside him but didn’t get comfortable. “It’s been a real shitty couple of days.”

“That it has,” Tony agreed.

They sat in silence as Tony stared up to the webbed ceiling and Happy refused to relax next to him. “I should have done something sooner,” Happy said in a pained voice, “I knew there was something wrong with the situation and I did nothing. I didn’t even check the guy out.”

“I didn’t either.”

“Yeah, but it’s my job to protect the Starks.”

Can’t argue with that. “It’s not your fault, Hap.”

“I can’t tell you how much I want to kill him. Beat him and make sure the pain lasts before he dies.”

“You and me both, but the FBI’s got him right now and we’d get one hell of a lecture from Pepper.”

Happy finally leaned back and let his body melt into the couch. From the corner of his eye, Tony could see his friend staring up at the ceiling with him. “What’s the next move Tony?”

“I’m not sure,” Tony said honestly. “I’m going to be investigated, so they can make sure I didn’t do anything to the kid and social services told me that I shouldn’t contact him because it’ll make me look bad.”     

“The lady only said that you couldn’t contact him, Tony. I bet if you-” Karen started but then she shut off. 

“What happened to her?” Happy said, alarmed.

“Friday stop muting her please. She’s free to speak,” Tony said. 

“I don’t advise that,” Friday started, “she’ll give you ideas that-”

“I want to hear,” Tony finished. “You were saying, Karen.”

Karen made a little huffy noise. “Before I was rudely interrupted by my sister, I was saying that it was specifically stated that you don’t contact Peter. What about the people around him? Just to make sure he’s okay.”

“Risky. Any other ideas?”

“Continue to watch him through the cameras, but that doesn’t help him. He could be starving right now and dying from exposure and we wouldn’t even know.”

“He was doing fine before I found him,” Tony pointed out. Not that I’d ever want him to be on his own. 

“Because he had a business,” Karen countered. “And before that he did underground enhanced cage fighting and ate out of the trash. Who knows what he’ll have to do to feed himself and the scum of society he’ll have to associate with.”

This situation gets more fucked up by the minute. No wonder the kid was satisfied with the leftover crap in my cupboards when he first got here. “First plan it is then. Let’s barely skirt around the law on a technicality.”

“Even if it’s a technicality, it still makes you look bad. They’ll say you’re stalking a minor,” Happy brought up. 

“Well, it’s a good thing Tony has enough money to buy a country, has two ultra-sophisticated A.I, is a certified genius, and knows the head of security at this tower that can make things happen,” Karen said. “We can all figure something out.”

“That sounds like we’re going to do something illegal,” Happy said. 

“Only if it comes to it,” Tony said and stood from the couch. “Alright, here’s what we’re going to do: first off Karen will keep track of the kid. I won’t look at any footage of him, so I can be honest about not seeing him, but I want to be notified if something really bad happens. Second, we need to figure out who is close to him to keep tabs on him, but people who won’t turn us in. Third, Karen and Friday need to be ready to get rid of of any and all evidence.” 

Happy gave out a huff. “And what are my orders?”

“You can’t wait outside school for him anymore, obviously. I want you to go around his old neighborhood, just in case he sets up a new business. I also want you to keep an eye on big bird. He’s still out there and I want to make sure that fuckbag’s feathered ass is sitting in the shittiest federal prison we can swing.” 

“You got it,” Happy said. “But keep in mind I’m still busy with the move. It’s going to take place next month.”

Tony waved his hand, “just make sure the FBI still has tabs on him then. And one last thing for everyone, we are not going to tell anyone what we’re doing, not even Pepper.”

“Absolutely not,” Friday said and at the same time Happy snorted in disbelief. 

“What? You guys think I can’t handle this without her?” Tony asked. 

“Yes,” said three voices. 

This disrespect. “Fine.”

Needless to say, Pepper was not ecstatic about their plan, but she agreed that something had to be done to ensure Peter’s safety.  

Even with a plan in place, it was still largely a waiting game. Wait to see if Peter would get in trouble, wait until he goes back to school, wait to talk to Ned, wait for the reporters to go away, wait to fall asleep. Time is one hell of a thing. Pepper slept soundly next to him and he watched her chest rise and fall. I’m glad one of us can rest. 

He tried to go to sleep at a reasonable time, but the best he could do was drift for an hour or two and then stare at the ceiling, listen to the hum in his chest, and think. Because everyone knows me being alone with my thoughts is always a wonderful thing. From his bed he could see the curtain Peter made him for Christmas, and one extra. The new curtain was an image of Iron Man firing repulsors while flying in the air. Pepper thought they were beautiful, even the Iron Man one. 

It was three in the morning when Tony walked out to the kitchen. He poured himself a glass of soda and stared at the balcony. Maybe it’s just a habit to be up right now. 

“You should go back to bed, Tony,” Karen said softly. 

The bubbles went from the bottom to the glass to the top. “Won’t do any good. I want to be up and do something.”

“You still need sleep. Then you’ll be able to wake up with Pepper tomorrow and have breakfast,” Karen said.  

“Since when do you care?”

“I care about you independently of Peter, you know. Though, I do care about him more.”

I feel so loved. “Got any suggestions for me?”

“The Spiderman suit still needs to be repaired and I would recommend getting all biological substances out of Peter’s room.” Karen’s voice sounded as if she took a deep breath in. “We don’t know when he’ll be back, and I don’t want anything to rot.”

I haven’t been in the kid’s room since I redecorated it to be his. “And you sure it wouldn’t be an invasion of privacy?” 

“He’ll understand.”

After he got the go ahead, Tony walked down the hall and opened his kid’s door and was immediately met with a wall of webbing. Forgot about this. He got down to the ground and crawled army style through the mass. My chiropractor is going to love Peter for giving him so much goddamn business. There were multiple tunnels, and the largest at the end went to the bed which was raised a few feet in the air. It was also the only portion of the room where he could stand. “I hope this is the last time I ever need to climb into this jungle gym.”

“Peter once told me he modeled his room after spider enclosures and a McDonald’s play place,” Karen said. 

Of course he did. Tony climbed up to the bed to get the objects Peter left behind and then he did his best to get all the nutrition sacks that were near his bed and the crickets he used to feed May. It took some maneuvering to get all the stuff out and Tony closed the door behind him. Never again. 

Tony put the cricket bin and nutrition sacks next to the sofa and sat down on the couch with the other items, which were Peter’s cellphone, watch, and suit that had a large burn in it. I hope he’s healing well. One thing that was distinctly missing was the wallet. At least he has some money with him. “Friday, make sure his credit, debit, and any gift cards he has are loaded to the max.” 

“It’s been done.”

“Good.” Tony relaxed and let his head fall back into the headrest. Maybe I can get some sleep out here. It’s almost nice with the crickets chirping. 

“Stark. Nice of you to make yourself available.”

Son of a bitch. Tony took a deep and opened his eyes to a projection of Nick Fury. “Is there an alien invasion going on right now?”

“Not right now,” Fury answered. “But you’re going to have to start preparing.”

Tony sat up. “Is it imminent?” Oh God, I don’t think I can stand anything else going wrong. 

“No, it’s not even on the horizon yet, but you know why I’m calling.”

“Fuck you. It’s almost four in the morning you fucking sadist.”

Fury’s eye analyzed the area around Tony. “You haven’t been returning any emails again, Stark. You want to ignore me; this is what’s going to happen. You were up anyway.” 

“Doesn’t mean I want to see your ugly mug. Are you going to tell me anything or can I get back to my night?” 

“You know, I would have liked it if you and the kid pulled this stunt a month or two later, but we can work with it. Your old team, meaning Natasha, Clint, Wanda, Vision, and Steve should be ready to be at the Avengers’ compound upstate by the summer if everything goes well.”

“I’ll make sure to send flowers. Maybe an edible arrangement along with a card that tells them to go fuck themselves.”

“Not an option Stark. You’ll be there too.” Fury’s posture shifted and his eye went to the Spiderman suit that Tony still had draped in his lap. “You know what’s at stake.”

Calm down, if he really wanted Peter, he would have fought a lot harder than this for him. “Just tell me when and I’ll be there.” You one-eye cyclops prick. 

“Glad you see it my way. I’ll let you know, but it’ll probably be late May or early June. Make sure you have Pepper clear your schedule.”

Tony bristled. “She’ll take care of it. She’ll probably have some choice words for you too for taking me out of work when I just got back.”

“I’m sure she’ll thank me when your stock prices go up because you’ll be seen as a national hero again. Read your emails.” And with a flicker, he was gone. 

“What a bitch,” Karen said from above. 

“Couldn’t agree more,” Tony said back to her. He was able to sleep after that, at least a little bit. It was more of a light trance than a deep sleep, but it was something. It was disrupted when he heard the clicking of Pepper’s heals. How she manages to be perfect at seven in the morning is a mystery to mankind. 

The click click click came closer until it stopped a few feet away from him. When Tony cracked open his eyes, he saw Pepper standing by the cricket bin and holding a nutrition sack. “What the hell is this?” she asked. “Feels like a water balloon.”

“It’s either a liquified rat or pigeon,” Tony explained. Pepper dropped the nutrition sack and it landed on the top of the bin with a squelch, which caused the crickets inside to start chirping. “I went into his room to get some stuff. I didn’t want to leave anything that would expire.” 

“Does he...eat this?”

“He catches the rats and pigeons himself, liquifies them with his fangs and venom, wraps it up and drinks it later. The crickets he feeds to the pet tarantula I gave him. I don’t think he eats them. It’s not too weird, right?” Tony responded. I hope she doesn’t think it’s too weird. Kid would be crushed.  

“He’ll only snack on the crickets occasionally, but it’s not often,” Karen supplied. 

I’ll have to talk to him about that later. If he wants to eat bugs, he should be getting the good stuff.

Pepper walked over to the sink and washed her hands. “I’ve dealt with weirder.” She dried off with a hand towel made of webbing and moved to the coffee machine. “I’m making you a cup too.”

Tony gave her his billion-dollar smile, “now I remember why you’re the love of my life.” That’s my girl. 

Easter came and went without much fanfare. Pepper couldn’t get off for the holiday, like usual, there were plenty of other places in the world that didn’t celebrate so she was out of the country. So the responsibility of being Tony’s emotional support went to Rhodey and his family. Mamma Rhodes hugged him as soon as he walked into her kitchen and then proceeded to beat him with a wooden spoon and berate him for not calling her enough. Rhodey’s sister also came over with her husband and children. Everyone made fun of the red and yellow knitted hat he wore. It was nice. 

After Easter lunch (they had the meal early so Rhodey’s sister could go to her in-law’s party) Tony sat on the porch with Mamma Rhodes and watched the other members of the family run around with the children collecting eggs. “Anthony,” Mamma Rhodes said as she rocked back and forth in her chair. “I hear from my son that I have a new grandchild. Where are they?”

“Working on it,” Tony answered. “I can’t believe he told you that. I wanted to wait until all the paperwork went through.”

“I have my ways to get him to talk,” Mamma Rhodes hummed.

He must have gotten the interrogation of his life. “As soon as I can get him, I’ll bring him over for a visit.”

Mamma Rhodes waved her finger at him. “You better.”

“Does this mean the rest of us are going to meet your new boyfriend? I’ve been dying to see how he reacts to Iron Man,” Tony said.

“No,” she said simply and turned back to watching the kids. 

They were all kicked out around five so she could have her mystery man over and so they could all go to their next locations. For Tony and Rhodey, that would be Tobey’s house. “We don’t need to stay long. Just to pop in, make sure everyone sees me, and dive out.”

“No way are we only staying for fifteen minutes, I want to meet the people you spend every Sunday with. And I need to give Pepper a full report,” Rhodey said and laughed. 

“Traitor. I live and interact with traitors,” Tony said as they went up to the apartment. Many people in the group either didn’t have family or couldn’t (or weren’t allowed to) see their family for a variety of reasons, so Tobey decided to throw a party for them. Kinda defeats the second A in AA, but it’s a good cause. 

They were late because they had to drive two hours back from Mamma Rhodes’ house, but everyone was still glad to see them. “Nice to meet you in person,” Mary Jane said as she let them into her home. They all exchanged pleasantries and small talk until they went into the kitchen.

“Tony!” Tobey yelled, “I’m glad you could make it!” There was a manic look in his eyes, and he sloshed around the drink he was holding. 

“Nice to see you too,” Tony said, and flashed a smile. “I could have sworn this would be a dry party.”

“Oh, it is,” Tobey said as he knocked back the cup like a shot. “The punch just has a lot of sugar in it. And I read a study once that said sleep deprivation can make you act like you're drunk.”

“I guess that’s why you don’t have a change in behavior, Tones,” Rhodey chimed in.

It caused the kitchen to explode with good hearted laughter at his expense. The highlight of the visit was meeting Claire. The baby was wide eyed, curious, and eager to meet anyone Tobey brought her to. Near the end of the night, the baby was sleeping on her father’s chest and Tobey turned to Tony. “Hey, you want to help me put her down?”

“I’m not sure I’m the best person-”

“It’s easy, and you may want to know one day too,” Tobey insisted.

Tony looked over his shoulder and saw Mary Jane and Rhodey interacting with the last few straggling guests and he nodded. Tobey led them to a small room with a crib and Tony watched him go through, what looked like, a nightly routine. “I have a feeling you didn’t want me here just for fatherly advice. Especially since my kid is way out of diapers.” I wish I knew Peter when he was that young.

“You’d be correct,” Tobey said softly. He placed Claire in the crib and turned on a dangling mobile that had the planets spinning off it. “I wanted to let you know some detectives came to talk to us about you.”      

“What were they asking about?” Tony asked slowly.

“They were asking me about Peter and your relationship with him. Don’t worry, I set them straight, they thought something...gross was going on between you. They wanted to talk to the other guys in the group too, but I told them that they wouldn’t know anything about Peter. You want to keep him safe,” Tobey finished. 

Okay. That’s not that bad. Hopefully it won’t be misconstrued. “Thanks for the heads up, Tobey.” They’re going to want to talk to me again at some point, I’ll need to start preparing. 

Tobey patted him on the back and led them out of the room. “Of course, buddy. Now let’s go see if we can get Mary to bring out the good chocolate cake WITH the whipped cream,” he said with an exaggerated whisper and a waggle of his brow. 

At the end of the night, it was the four of them talking and laughing over the rich chocolate cake and a tub of cool whip. I could see myself doing this for most holidays. As far as parties went, it wasn’t the most boring Tony had ever been too, but probably the most normal. This is how I imagine regular people celebrate the holidays. It wasn’t the loud music, business talking, drug and alcohol filled bash he was used to, but it felt nice to be Anthony Stark for the day. I hope Peter’s Easter went well. I’ll have to make it up to him with the next one. 

Monitoring Peter was going well. Almost too well. Karen never reported to him much other than telling him when he got a new foster parent, Mrs. Shale, and when Peter would sneak out to go back to the water treatment plant. That place looks like an abandoned super villain hideout that’s filled with lead and asbestos. It was already labeled a superfund site by the state and Tony made a note to donate money to get the place cleaned up at some point in the future. 

The kid also went out to the enhanced fighting ring, which almost gave Tony a heart attack the first time she told him. “Whenever he went back as Spiderman, he usually only talked to a few of his old friends,” Karen assured him. 

The last bit of the almost illegal monitoring came from Tony’s calls to a man on the inside. Tony knew he wouldn’t be able to talk to the school because they would definitely turn him in to the police. But occasionally, Tony did call one of Peter’s teachers, Roger Harrington, to make sure the kid was alright even before all this shit went down. It’s been a month or so since I’ve contacted him, and I know he’s an alright guy, at least. 

The first couple times Tony called, he kept it brief and easy to deny any wrongdoing if questions with inquiries like if Peter was doing alright because he hadn’t been showing up for the internship. Then he moved to questions of if Harrington thought Peter was doing alright physically and mentally. And now the man had become more than a little suspicious.

Tony sat at his desk and could feel his heart speed up and he began to tap his fingers on the mahogany wood. It’s ridiculous that I feel this nervous. But it wasn’t because this phone call could mean making sure Peter was safe but also it could lead to never seeing his kid again. I wonder if this is what being in the middle of a divorce feels like. 

Movement distracted him for a moment and his eyes snapped to the corner of his desk where May the spider’s medication bottle sized home sat. Every time Tony came into his office and sat in his chair the spider would come out and look at him, and today she tapped on her container in the same pattern he tapped on the desk. I didn’t know spiders did that. But I guess the only spider I know personally is also a genius, so why not? Enough stalling. You’re a Stark and Starks don’t stall. 

Here goes nothing. 

Harrington picked up his phone on the first ring. “I have half a mind to tell the police about you calling me.”

“You haven’t already?” Tony baited. 

“No,” Harrington answered. “Tell me why I shouldn’t.”

“Because you know I care.”

“Most groomers do care about their projects,” Harrington countered. 

“I am not a pedophile and I never groomed Peter. Did you ever wonder why he was doing so well the past few months? Because he was living here with me. I’m sure you know the signs of a kid being abused, and you know that I wasn’t doing it.” Every time Tony heard someone make the accusation that he was hurting Peter it made him want to punch them with his Iron Man suit. Everyone around him (even his lawyers) said he’d better get used to hearing those things though. 

“Well why didn’t you do anything about the guy that was! You have all the money and power a man could ever have and yet it still happened!”

Tony took a deep breath. He’s right. “I have just as much power as you do if he doesn’t tell me anything.”

“You’re not supposed to talk to him.”

“I’m not.”

“You’re contacting someone close to him.”

“Can you blame me?”

“No.” Harrington paused and sighed into the speaker. “You remind me of some of the parents at back-to-school night.”

“Really? What kind of operation is Moritia running if Iron Man reminds you of other kid’s parents?” Tony joked. It’d be the icing on the fucking glorious ten tier wobbling cake that is Peter’s life if he’s been attending a secret school for enhanced individuals this whole time.

“You know what I mean, Stark.” 

It didn’t take much more prodding than that, but Harrington began to talk casually, but still cautiously, about Peter’s wellbeing. The kid was quiet and not accepting any help that people were trying to give, but he didn’t appear to be in imminent danger. Through their talks, Tony learned that he quite liked the teacher, he sounded awkward and nerdy. It’s no wonder the guy likes Peter, and the kid speaks so highly of him. At least he has a couple people on his side at school. 

After he and Karen went through Peter’s phone contacts for a list of people they could talk to, it led Tony to the conclusion that Peter really needed to make more friends. Not that I’m a stunning example. He hoped to find someone that Peter was close to that wasn’t Ned or MJ, but it seemed his kid stuck to himself. From the way Peter described his best friend, I can’t contact him directly either. Ned’s probably just as bad at lying as Peter is and I don’t know if this MJ girl will sell me out. 

To technically stay in the bounds of not talking to Peter and not get accused of stalking a minor, it was decided that Karen would contact Ned. They already had an established relationship, and it was easy to get Ned to agree to keep quiet and not tell Peter that Karen was checking up on him. Tony didn’t monitor the calls except for one time when Pepper wanted to hear what they were up to.

“Hello Ned, this is Karen-”

“I know it’s you Karen, I have caller ID,” Ned said through the speaker. 

Pepper had an amused grin on her face and Tony had to hold in a snort. This kid sounds like just as much of a little shit as Peter is. Can’t wait to meet him one day. 

“Perhaps I just like saying my name,” Karen huffed. “Has anything changed with Peter?”

“He’s still getting thinner,” Ned said quietly, “even though MJ and I are trying our best.” 

God, I wish he would go back to being a little shit. No kids should have to worry about if their friends have enough to eat. 

“I know he’s not going out as Spiderman anymore because there have been no sightings of him on social media. That’s how I know, not because he tells me. He’s not talking again,” Ned said quickly, and his voice became hoarse. “Karen, I’m getting scared.”

“It’s okay,” Karen soothed. “

“It’s just scary. It feels like he’s wasting away, and no one cares, or no one can do anything about it. I know him and Mr. Stark were getting close, how come I haven’t heard anything from him? Does he even care?” Ned asked with a sniffle. 

“He cares more than you know,” Karen answered evasively. 

“Is he going to take care of Peter again soon?”

“Hopefully Tony will be able to apply to be his guardian as soon as the courts let him.”

“So, he’ll be Peter’s dad?”

This time it was Pepper who had to hold in any noises because she was about to burst into laughter at the sight of Tony’s (admittedly) surprised face. Karen will save me on this one.

“On paper.”

“I guess that makes sense. He already acts like Peter’s dad. I’m happy for them.”

Pepper’s smile only grew. I bet Karen’s going to be super pleased with herself after this. 

“As am I,” Karen said cheerfully. “Now, I wanted to ask you of your own mental well-being. How have you been doing?”

Ned started to talk to Karen freely about his day and his feelings and Tony muted him too not be intrusive. Pepper looked at him with raised eyebrows and a big smile. “What is that look for, Ms. Potts?”

“Oh, nothing. Daddy,” she said sweetly.

Tony groaned loudly and they both broke out into laughter. 

It was a little after one in the afternoon when the detectives came back up to Tony’s penthouse. It’s not like he wanted to let them up, but they threatened to take him down to the station otherwise and now was not the time for the press to see him be dragged into a police car. “Long time no see detectives, what can I do for you?”

“Cut the crap, Stark,” Stagler said as he approached. Both looked at him like he was guilty of a heinous crime.

I’m sure I can guess what crime they think I committed. “Should I call my lawyers for this conversation?” Tony asked politely. I should probably text Pepper while I’m at it. 

“You’re going to need a lot more than a lawyer when we’re done with you, pal.” Detective Stagler sounded angrier than before and struggled to keep it contained. He came into Tony’s personal space to try to intimidate him, but Tony stood his ground. 

“You sure you aren’t going to need your union representative?” Tony snarked. 

Detective Stagler got even closer to the point where their chests were touching and their faces an inch away from each other. “Don’t play with me scumbag, we know what you’re doing with Peter.”

Fuck. “I’m not sure what you mean, detective.”

“Elliot, calm down,” Detective Benton said from behind them. 

It seemed her words only made him angrier, and Tony slowly moved his hand to his wristwatch ready to use the experimental Iron Man gauntlet it could turn into.  

“Back off him, douchebag!” Karen yelled.

Immediately, Detective Stagler stepped back and Detective Benton became rigid. They put their hands on their weapons and scanned the area. “Who else is here?” Detective Benton demanded. 

“Hello, I’m Karen Stark. You were informed about me during your last visit. I’m the one that Peter spoke to about his abuse.”

Detective Benton looked around for the place Karen’s voice came from. “I didn’t know it could talk without prompting or that it could have a last name.”

“I can do a lot of things,” Karen said with an edge in her voice. 

Can’t have a repeat of the conversation with Helen, it’ll just make them more suspicious of me. “Her primary objective was to look after Peter’s health and wellbeing. She’s been a little upset since he left.” 

“I guess that’s understandable,” Detective Stagler said as he also looked around for Karen’s voice. 

“Like I know that you’re known for your anger issues, Detective Stagler,” Karen added.

Goddamnit Karen. Why couldn’t you have just kept quiet? 

“I don’t know where you’re getting your information from, but I have nothing on my record that states-” 

“Stop arguing with it, Elliot, it’s just a computer,” Detective Benton said before her partner could fully reply. 

The penthouse was quiet. Friday must have muted her, there is no way she wouldn’t start screaming at them after a comment like that. “If you two are done insulting my A.I, would you tell me what you came here for?” Tony asked. 

Detective Stagler cleared his throat. “Do you have any information on the whereabouts of Peter Parker?”

“No, I was told to not interact with him so I would lose my chance to be his guardian. I haven’t spoken to him since the day the Staten Island Ferry was cut in half,” Tony said truthfully. 

This time Detective Benton walked up to him with a puzzled expression. “So, you don’t have any idea where he is?”

“No. Wait. Do you have any idea where he is? Did something happen to him? His social worker told me he was given a new placement and it was safe,” Tony said, and panic slipped into his voice. 

They glanced at each other and remained silent. 

“Then what the hell are you two doing here? Did you assume I kidnapped him or something? What other leads do you have?” Tony asked rapidly. 

“There was an altercation at his school today and he left unexpectedly, and no one has seen him since,” Detective Benton answered. 

“What happened at school? Was he hurt?” I’m definitely going to have to call Harrington after this. 

“He bruised another boy at lunch, but ah, if you don’t have any information we’re going to get going.”

Tony was already making his way to his office as she spoke and waved in the direction of the elevator. “Whatever, don’t let the elevator close on you on your way out.” 

As soon as the door to his office was closed, Tony let out a loud, angry, yell. Then he went to his desk and waved his hand to get a projection of the CCTV footage that was near the water treatment plant. “Friday, can you unmute Karen?”

“I was never muted,” Karen said in a monotone. “I checked. Peter left school and went back to the abandoned building and left recently. I suggest not contacting Roger Harrington for a few days in case those detectives come back for more questioning and you let it slip that you know more than you're supposed to.”

Okay, the kid’s safe. Nothing to worry about there. That Thompson kid must have been really shitty to make Peter fight back. “Karen, could you tell if Peter was injured in any way?”

“Physically he’s fine, but it is hard to discern from the grainy video.” It was like her voice lost all the emotion he was used to her having. 

“Karen, I’m sure he’s fine,” Tony said. 

“I am too.”

“And for what it’s worth, I do think both you and Friday are people, by the way.” I hope that’s good enough because that’s about as comforting as I’m going to get. 

“Thank you,” Karen said, but her voice was still bland.

Tony sat in the suffocating silence of his office and kept his eyes on the CCTV footage. There was a tapping sound and Tony looked down to the container that held May and watched her try to get his attention. Once he threw a cricket in her enclosure, she pounced on it and brought it back into her nest. I wonder if that’s how Peter hunts the rats. I wonder if I’ll be able to see him soon. 

It was around one in the morning when Tony got a call from Harrington and he answered as soon as Friday notified him. Pepper had already gone to bed, early for once, so Tony was alone in the kitchen. “What happened? Is everything okay? Did they find Peter?” Tony asked rapidly. 

“I’m surprised you didn’t call sooner if you knew he was missing,” Harrington commented. 

“Detectives came over yesterday and I was advised not to call you. Tell me what’s going on!” Tony demnded.

“Well, Peter came to school today with injuries, and the detectives started to question him, but my fiancée and I came in and stopped it. We’re his foster parents now.”

Tony frowned. Shit. At least with that old lady, I could have made the case that she was living on a fixed income and clearly had no interest in children, so he shouldn’t be living there, but Harrington is different. He’s Peter’s teacher and Peter likes and trusts him. “That’s good. Peter has always had nice things to say about you,” Tony said lamely. 

“Really? He barely talks to me during school.” Tony could hear the smile on his face. “We also talked a lot tonight. About where he was and what he is.”

“He told you?” I wonder how much.

“More like he showed me. He has fangs, I never would have guessed that he was like that.” Harrington didn’t sound afraid per say, but unsure. Like how someone would sound if they found out that the little puppy he took in would grow to be Clifford the big red dog that could also climb walls and liquify animals. 

Probably didn’t tell him about Spiderman then. “In the way he looks and acts he’s indistinguishable from a normal human, at least around other people. He’s more comfortable here at the tower to be who he truly is.” 

“I’ll try to be as accepting of him as possible while he’s here. He said that he missed being home because it always made him feel safe.”

“I hope so, he was living with a literal superhero,” Tony joked. Both him and Peter had been referring to the tower as home for some time now, but it was different hearing someone else say it. It caused a warmth to bloom in Tony’s chest. “Was he saying anything else? Why did he go missing?”

“He said that he fights other enhanced people for food? He didn’t go into detail on that, but he’s worried he’s not going to eat enough. I think he got hurt too. I’m not sure how to handle all of this.”

So, he’s doing more than just visiting a friend. Karen is not going to be happy about that. And I’m not either. “That’s bad if it’s obvious, he usually likes to hide his injuries. His enhancements give him incredible healing, but he needs to consume calories to do it. Three or four times the amount you do.”

“He had three servings of spaghetti tonight and he said that wasn’t enough. That he would have to keep fighting just so he could eat.”

“Yeah, that’s not going to happen. As soon as you can, tell Peter you’ll bring him to go get the rest of his stuff and I’ll leave something a little extra for you while he’s distracted. I trust that you won’t do anything stupid with the money that makes me angry.”

“Is this going to be illegal?” Harrington asked with hesitance.

“Only vaguely incriminating,” Tony said with a smile. 

The conversation ended at around two in the morning, a good time considering Harrington had work the next day and Tony had planning to do. It was true that he could just stuff a few thousand dollars in a brown paper bag and leave it at the water treatment plant, but Tony was smarter (and classier) than that. Besides, the kid would definitely think it was a drug deal or something. 

So, the plan was for Happy to buy a fully loaded visa gift card and leave it for Harrington near the entrance to the water treatment facility. Hopefully, his kid wouldn’t be able to distinguish it from a normal credit card and accept the excuse that the foster system gives out a stipend to the family to take care of a child. Cash is great for its liquidity, but it’s the 21st century. Maybe it would be a good idea to go through a third part for this, in case anyone accused him of using Happy to stalk a child. But he wasn’t Tony’s head of security for nothing, and Tony knew that his friend had grown a liking to Peter all on his own, so there was a way to talk himself out of any incrimination.

Vaguely incriminating almost illegal plans were held together by plausible deniability, after all. 

It was easier to sleep that night because things were finally looking up. The situation still wasn’t great, but it was better, and that wasn’t something that happened a lot these days. With any luck any investigation the anger challenged detective and his partner had to do would be finished soon and Harrington and his fiancée would consent and even suggest that Peter should be here with him. 

Yeah, it was a lot easier to sleep that night. 

Chapter Text

Things are going well. Peter looked at himself in Mr. Harrington’s mirror and smiled. Mirrors were usually something he avoided, as a general rule. There was no point when all you’d see is something you didn’t like. But I look pretty good, and I didn’t even need Karen’s advice and analysis of current teen trends to do it. He didn’t look as healthy as he did when he lived with Mr. Stark, but his skin had color to it, and he wasn’t starving to death. Luckily with the supplemental money the agency gave his new caregivers, it didn’t seem like Peter was hurting them too much financially. Mr. Harrington even rented him and let him borrow a bright red and gold necktie that Peter put in a Windsor knot. You go to enough funerals and you know how to tie a tie. It was a nice suit that fit him well, which made him uncomfortable at first, but Mr. Harrington swiped his credit card no problem and told Peter that he deserved something nice. 

Especially since it was the only school sponsored activity he was still allowed to go to. 

“You’re going to have a good night tonight,” Peter said to himself in the mirror. He was going to Liz’s house, take pictures, dance in the school gym, and leave by eleven. The goal of the night was to have fun with his friends, all two of them, and maybe get a kiss from Liz. That’d be awesome.   

There was a knock on the door. “You doing okay in there Pete?” Mr. Harrington asked. 

Peter heard his teacher take a few steps away from the door to keep his customary distance. “Yeah, I’m fine. I just need a minute.” You can do this you’re...you. Maybe I can’t do this. I wish Karen was here, she’s so much better at boosting my confidence than I am. It may have taken another five minutes to pump himself up, but he finally came out of the bathroom. “Sorry it took so long, I’m ready.”

“It’s fine, we’ll still get to Liz’s house on time,” Mr. Harrington said gently. Both him and his fiancée were in fancy clothes as well. They weren’t going to the dance though, not even as chaperones, but they were going out for their anniversary. I could have sworn Mr. Harrington said it was in the middle of summer, but I don’t think they can go out much, especially with me here. Ms. Sarr took some pictures of him before they left and commented on how handsome he was, which made Peter blush. 

When Mr. Harrington drove him to Liz’s house, he kept the radio on low and hummed along. Peter sat in the passenger seat and texted Liz that he was on his way and kept sight of Mr. Harrington out of the corner of his eye. It’s not like Peter was nervous of his teacher, after being picked up by Happy for so long and riding with Mr. Harrington every morning for school made it easier for him to sit comfortably in a car with men. But there was always the residual cautiousness, a similar one that Peter noticed Felicia had too. If it’s never gone away for her, I doubt it will for me.

Thankfully, after the first few days of knowing that Peter was different, Mr. Harrington acted normal around him. It was like he didn’t even reveal he was part spider or anything. The only times when he seemed scared of Peter was when they went to the water treatment plant for the rest of Peter’s stuff at Harrington’s insistence. Mr. Harrington had let out a choked gasp when Peter climbed onto the walls and went white when Peter explained the nutrition sacks, but he didn’t seem too weirded out. 

When they arrived, Mr. Harrington gave Peter a firm handshake, wished him good luck, and an insistence to contact him if anything went wrong. Peter nodded and walked up to the front door with false confidence. There is no way I’m going to bother them on their date night. He knocked on the door and heard a woman’s voice. “Honey, can you get the door?”

Heavy footsteps followed, and Peter made last minute adjustments to his suit and looked down at the corsage in his hands one more time. This is it. Deep breath. Don’t worry, it’s going to be fine.

The door opened to a horrifyingly familiar face. “You must be Peter,” the Vulture said with a smirk. 

Fuck. 

His spider senses screamed at him, and Peter was sure he looked like a scared fawn. “Yeah…”

“Well, put her there.” They shook hands and Peter tried not to stick to the man or crush his bones. “Hell of a grip you got there. Come in,” the Vulture said as he pulled Peter inside his home. He slowly followed the man into the kitchen. I’m walking into a super villain’s house. That’s also Liz’s house.

Liz’s mom came from behind him and caused him to jump. “Hey Peter, it’s nice to see you.” She walked over to her husband and whispered something about not forgetting Peter’s name. “I’m going to go get Liz, I’ll be right back.”

The Vulture was taking out knives from his dishwasher and putting them away. They glided over each other and made a sharp clinging sound. “You alright Pete? You look pale.”

“Fine,” Peter choked out. 

“You want a drink to steady your nerves? Whiskey? Bourbon?” the Vulture asked. 

Peter shook his head. “I’m-I’m not old enough to drink.”

“That’s the right answer,” the Vulture said with a laugh, “usually doesn’t stop boys your age though.”

“My foster father was an alcoholic. After what it did to him, I’m not sure if I ever want to drink,” Peter said quietly. 

The Vulture frowned and looked like he was about to say something to Peter, but then his eyes went around him. “Wow. Wow wow wow, do you look beautiful. Doesn’t she look beautiful, Pete?”

“Please don’t embarrass me, dad,” Liz said with a huge smile on her face.

And she did look beautiful. Her pink dress worked off her skin in a striking manner and her eyes and hair were just as perfect as ever. But he couldn’t really look at her because her father was right there, a few feet away, and could definitely kill him. “Yeah, you look really good.”

“Once again, that’s the right answer.” He still waved around the knife in his hand. 

“Is that a corsage?” Liz asked. 

They took a few photos with Peter keeping an appropriate space between himself and his date and tried to keep the Vulture in his view as well. Please please please have Mrs. Allen be the one who is driving us.

“Don’t worry about it honey, I’m going out of town, it's right on my way,” the Vulture said to his wife. 

Nonononononono. 

Mrs. Allen turned to Peter, “he’s always traveling for work.”

“Last time. I promise.” He kissed his wife and led them to his car where Peter and Liz went into the back seat.   

Calm down, he can’t do anything with Liz here. Unless she knows. Back in the house, Peter started to feel queasy and being in the car with the man who had tried to kill him at least twice made it a thousand percent worse. It also made him hyper aware of the scaring all over his body from where he’d been hit by alien weapons. The marks on his limbs and the huge burn on his chest tingled. 

“What are you going to do, Pete?” the Vulture asked suddenly.

“What?” Peter asked quietly. Please don’t talk to me and please stop using a nickname. 

“When you graduate, what do you think you’re going to do?” the Vulture repeated. 

“I-um. I don’t really. I don’t know.”

Liz looked up from her phone, “don’t grill him, dad.”

“I’m jus sayin’. You guys go to that school and you pretty much have your life planned out, right? I mean Liz here is going to Berkeley for child psychology.”

She just told me she was going to Berkeley. Not what she was going for. Liz looked up with surprise and gave Peter a shy smile. 

“Yeah, she wants to help out abused and underprivileged children. That’s my girl, always trying to look out for the little guy,” the Vulture continued. 

I’m going to ignore the fact that I might just be a case study to her. “I’m just a, just a Sophomore. I don’t really know what I want to do yet.” But at least it won’t be making illegal weapons.

“Don’t be like that, you have an internship with Tony Stark, right? That’s pretty cool,” Liz said to try to change the subject. “You’ll probably be set after that.”

The Vulture’s hands tightened on the steering wheel and his voice became different. “Stark?”

“Actually, I’m not interning for him anymore,” Peter said and looked down to his lap. “With everything going on, I couldn’t keep up.”

A light hand on his shoulder jolted him and he looked into Liz’s soft face that was full of pity. “It’ll pass Peter. I bet it was cool though, meeting Iron Man and Spiderman.”

“Spiderman, wow. What’s he like?” the Vulture asked with too much interest.

Kill me. “He’s a nice man. Yeah, man.” 

“Hmm,” the Vulture hummed and nodded his head. They stopped at a red light, which illuminated his face. “Have we met somewhere before? Because your voice sounds very familiar.”

It was like Peter could see the man begin to figure it out in his head. The Vulture kept his eyes on the road, but when they went to the rear-view mirror, Peter could tell they were analyzing him. “Well, Peter is on the Academic Decathlon team with me. I told you about him when I went to D.C, remember?” Liz cut in. Then she leaned into Peter’s personal space and showed him a cute photo of a puppy snuggling a kitten. 

“Terrible what happened there, I bet you were very happy when your pal Spiderman showed up, huh?” the Vulture asked with an edge.

“I actually wasn’t there. I only heard about it after. I stayed back at the hotel,” Peter replied. “It was lucky that he was there that day though, cause you know, he usually stays here in New York.” Why did you say that?!

“Yep, good old Spiderman.” The Vulture’s voice was low and growly, and he stared directly at Peter through the mirror. The light turned green, and it made the Vulture’s eyes reflect the color, as if to mimic when he had on the helmet. 

He knows. 

“Here we are. End of the line,” the Vulture said as they pulled up to the dance. “You head in, gumdrop. I’m going to give Peter here the old dad talk.”

Liz huffed a small laugh and rolled her eyes. “Don’t let him intimidate you, Pete. I’ll see you inside.” Then she leaned forward and kissed the Vulture on the cheek. “Love you dad, have a safe flight.”

“Love you too, gumdrop.”

And then she was gone. And there was a click that signified the doors were locked. 

The Vulture pulled something out of his glove box and turned to face him. “Your name wouldn’t be Peter Parker, would it? Genius kid who liked to salvage broken tech and fix things for cheap.”

He knows my full name. He knows who I am. Peter swallowed and nodded his head slowly. 

The man smiled and laughed. “Small world, you know Mason and I were trying to get you on our team for months.” Then he pulled out a card, held it out to Peter, and gestured for him to take it.

Peter reached out tentatively and took the card. It was one he got before from the round, almost Santa Clause looking man, that had a bird--it’s a vulture--on it and read Bestman Salvage.

“Sorry about your place, but you had to admit it was an eyesore. You know, I wondered what all that string stuff was all over the house that made it hard to tear down. Mystery solved. Got a lot of good stuff out of that place too.” He laughed again low and slow until he stopped. “Does she know about any of this?”

“About what?”

“Good, so she doesn’t. Close to the chest, I admire that. Got a few secrets of my own. Of all the reasons I didn’t want my daughter to date, I didn’t expect this to be one of them. Peter, nothing is more important to me than family, and you saved my daughter’s life in D.C, and I could never forget something like that. So, I’m going to give you a chance here.”

From the passenger seat, the Vulture brought up a black gun with a silencer attached to the barrel. It was likely that from outside the car it was near impossible to see it in the darkness and against the matching black interior. Peter watched the Vulture tap it gently on the seat repeatedly.

Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.

“Go in there and forget about any of this happening and don’t you ever interfere with my business again. Because if you do, I’ll kill you and everyone you have left. I’ll kill you dead because that’s what I got to do to protect my family. Do you understand?”

Peter nodded and continued to look back and forth between the Vulture’s cold stare and the waving gun. 

“I just saved your life. Did no one in that foster home teach you manners? What do you say?”  

“Thank you,” Peter said to the gun.

“You’re welcome.” The Vulture nodded and put the gun back in his glove box. “Now you can go in there and show my daughter a good time, but not too good. What you do to her is what I do to you.”

Without thinking about it, Peter’s hand shot to the lever to open the door, but it was still locked. If I don’t get out of here in ten seconds, I’m going to rip the door off this car. 

“Don’t be like that Pete, it’s just a dad joke. Keep the card though, maybe we can make somethin’ happen.” There was another click, and the door unlocked. “Have a good time.”

Peter immediately scrambled out of the car and sprinted into the dance.  He waded through the crowd of his classmates as a numb feeling took over his body. The music was loud and poppy and multicolored lights flashed everywhere. It was like everyone’s moving bodies had a blurred effect on them and the sharp reflective light from multiple girl’s rhinestone dresses hit his eyes like needles.

In the middle of the mass, Liz vibed by herself and she smiled and then became concerned when she saw him. “You don’t look so good. What did he say to you?”

When Peter opened his mouth, he noticed that it was dry, and his throat has a slimy feeling to it. “I need to go.” He ran away from Liz and out into the hall and threw up in the first trash can he saw. It made his stomach feel better, but the bitter taste in his mouth and his sweaty skin still made him feel gross. I have to do it. I have to go after him. 

He ran down the hallway, opened his locker, and grabbed his old Spiderman suit. Peter just managed to put it on and bolt outside when his spider sense went off a second too late, so he took an electric punch to the head. He looked up at the man with the glove from the ground and groaned. “He gave you a choice. And you chose wrong,” the man said. As he said it, he powered up the gauntlet and a familiar unsettling hum of electricity started.

“How’d you even get here so fast?” Peter said back. I need to get my web shooters! They flew away from him when the guy hit him and just as Peter was about to grab them a bus smashed into him from behind. He tried to get the web shooters again, but the guy threw him through the bus. Owe. It’s so gross here. With a flip and a kick through the back emergency door, Peter was back outside. 

The guy threw a couple more punches which Peter tried his best to block, but each time the electricity made contact it made it a little harder. Why can’t I be immune to electric shock by now? The man wound up for another hard hit again when a piece of webbing stuck to his fist. 

Ned stood in his white tuxedo and matching hat with a shocked expression on his face. 

“Nice shot!” Peter complimented and then grabbed the webbing. He got his web shooter, threw the man to a bus, and webbed him to the side. One problem down. He ran up to his friend. “The Vulture is Liz’s dad-”

“WHAT?!”

“Yeah, I know. Get on a computer and track my phone, I need to know where he’s going. Now!” Peter swung in the direction he saw Liz’s dad go. I’ll never get there in time. I need something faster. He landed on a silver convertible. “Flash, I need your car to save the city.”  

Flash and his date immediately scrambled out of the car and Peter sped away. He called Ned on his burner phone he usually only used to talk with Felicia and put it on speaker. “I stole Flash’s car, and I can catch up to the Vulture now. Where am I going?” Peter swerved and jerked around the lanes and multiple people honked at him. If Felicia can do this strung out on heroine, why can’t I?

“That’s sick, dude. He just passed the GameStop on Jackson Ave,” Ned said.

“Great. Any idea as to why he would be heading in that direction?” Peter swerved to avoid hitting a city bus and may have gone onto the sidewalk a little bit. “Ahh! Get out of the way!”

“You okay, dude?” 

“I’ve never driven a car before and going so fast while not in the air is sort of terrifying.” How does Happy make it look so easy? He experienced an unpleasant turn in his stomach from the thought of accidentally hurting someone and slowed down a bit.

“He stopped at an industrial park in Brooklyn,” Ned informed him. 

“Why? He said he was going out of town. I guess he does have that wingsuit, but what would he be flying to? That thing probably doesn’t have good mileage.” It’d have to be somewhere in the city, but where would he need to fly to? On top of a building, maybe.

Ned typed something on his computer. “I’m not sure, but you said he robbed a truck transporting stuff before, right? Maybe he needs to fly to another truck or a boat or-”

“A plane! Happy has been trying to move the Avengers stuff from the tower to compound upstate for months!”

“That’s so cool that they entrust you with important Avengers secrets like that.”

“They don’t but I can still hear Happy talk on the phone while I’m in the car with him, even if the partition is up. He’s going to rob the plane! I need to stop him!” I can’t let him do that. Who knows what he’ll be able to do with all that Avengers stuff!? Hundreds of people could die! It made Peter want to speed up, but the thought of hitting someone was enough to keep him in control. 

“Hey, make a right turn now, it’s right there.”

Peter turned the wheel and had to shoot a web onto a lamppost to make the turn which caused the care to flip onto its side and come to a halt. 

“Are you okay Peter? Should I try to call Mr. Stark or someone?” Ned asked worriedly. 

“No, Ned. I don’t have the best relationship with him right now. I’m going to stop the Vulture from robbing the plane and I’ll be back at the dance in no time. Like this didn’t even happen.”

“But Peter-”

“See you in a few hours!” Peter said hurriedly and flipped the phone closed. He swung to the building and silently climbed inside. He’d been in enough of these places that large, dusty, empty factories began to feel like home, but knowing what lies within put him on edge. At the end of a room, the Vulture stood over a wooden table lit by a single lamp. 

“It’s over! You’re not getting away!” Peter yelled to the man. 

“You know, I can see why Liz likes you. I wasn’t sure of you at first when you came over, but I get it now. It’s a real shame Pete, you could have been part of the family,” the Vulture said as he turned to Peter. He put on a bomber jacket and leaned onto the desk. 

“How could you do this to her?” Peter asked.

“To her? I do it for her. For my family. Come on Pete, I know you had one once. Wouldn’t you have done anything for them?”

I did and it’s what cost me Ben. “Not sell alien weapons used to hurt people.”

“Come on, your pal Tony Stark, he did the same thing. How do you think he could afford that tower or all his little toys or even your suit? I guess not that suit, but the other, shiny one. What happen to it? Your internship ended and you had to give it back, right? No matter if it would have helped keep you safe or helped save people. Because that’s what the guys at the top do. They don’t care about us. They don’t care about you.”

“That’s not true!” Peter shot out a web, so the Vulture’s hand was stuck to the desk. 

“You know it is. Guys like us, we can fight their wars, work their companies, build their roads, eat their table scraps. That’s how it is. I know you know what I’m talking about. We come from the same place. The same business. We’re the little guys and there’s no one out there to protect us, but us.”

The empty space between him and the Vulture was large physically, but in some way, it was also very small. “Why are you telling me this?” 

“Because I want you to understand. And she needed a little time to get in the air.” With a push of a button the wingsuit came alive and flew towards him. 

His spider senses caught it just in time from him to flip over it and dodge the metal wings as they sliced through the concrete supports of the building. But after a few seconds Peter stopped and watched the wings circle around him, still cutting more beams. 

“I’m sorry about this Peter,” the Vulture said from the desk. 

“Why? It hasn’t even touched me yet.” It continued to circle, until it came up the middle and Peter had to duck to dodge it again. 

“It didn’t have to.”

By the time the meaning connected in his head, Peter was covered in rubble. After everything settled, he gasped and took off his mask to try to breathe in more air. It was full of dust and debris which made him cough. Peter tried to crawl out from under the wreckage, but he couldn’t move. I’m stuck. I’m stuck! I can’t move! His throat began to close and the dust from the air mixed with the tears in his eyes making it hard to see.

“HELP! ANYONE, PLEASE! I’M DOWN HERE!” Peter screamed. 

There was no one.

Even with his super senses, he couldn’t hear a footstep or a heartbeat from anywhere. I’m stuck and no one knows that I’m here, but Ned and I told him not to call anyone. The rubble shifted and Peter could feel and increased pressure on his legs. I don’t think anything punctured me, but I could be in shock and bleeding out right now. I’m going to die here. Oh Lord, I’m going to die here.   

Peter let out some involuntary hiccups which caused him to breathe in more dust and cough heavily. I wonder if they’ll find me. I wonder what parents they’ll bury me next to. He shifted a little, so he went further into the rubble and settled in. I’m so tired of this. I’m so tired of everything. Maybe it’ll be nice for it to be over. 

That way Peter couldn’t disappoint anyone anymore. Not Ms. Sarr, Mr. Harrington, Mr. Hogan, Karen, Mr. Stark. No one. And he wouldn’t have to feel pain. Whether it be knives, bullets, claws, electric shocks, or his own thoughts and memories. No more nights staring down at his floor from the ceiling wondering what his life would be like if it was a little different. The debris settled further, and Peter let out a calmed exhale. 

But if he just laid there, he wouldn’t be able to see those people again either. Ms. Sarr and Mr. Harrington’s smiling faces as they told him how proud they are. Or Mr. Hogan’s begrudging friendliness that grew with each day. Karen’s concerned and loving voice that only wanted what was best for him. The feeling of safety, care, and understanding that radiated from Mr. Stark. That didn’t even mention his friends and all the people he helped when he was out as Spiderman. And the invigorating feeling he got when he was jumping from rooftops and saving people. Even if unfortunate things happened to Peter all the time, the moments in between were incredible.    

I want to live. 

It doesn’t matter if I feel like garbage, if I feel nothing at all, or even if I feel like Spiderman because I am Spiderman. “And Spiderman helps people,” Peter whispered to himself. He shifted again, but this time he flexed his legs and pulled his arms near his body. “Come on! Come on Peter! Come on Spiderman!”

From a push-up position, Spiderman was able to get some leverage and get to his feet. The muscles in his limbs burned, it hurt like hell, and more bits of concrete fell on top of him, but he was able to lift the wreckage off himself and get out from under it. After a couple steadying breaths, Spiderman picked his mask up off the ground and put it on. It doesn’t feel like anything is broken and I don’t think I have any major bleeding. Good things can happen. 

And his web shooters still worked! With a TWIP, he was out of the building and in the air. This is so much better than being in a car. And he was able to swing to the Vulture’s location just in time to get a strand of webbing on him and fly with him. I really need to build a jet pack or something so this stuff stops happening to me. The lights and the buildings of New York became smaller the higher they went.

They reached the plane in less than a minute and the Vulture’s wings maneuvered to the underside of the jet and Spiderman stuck himself to the side as well. The webbing he tried to shoot didn’t stick and his hands didn’t do the job much better. He ignored the pain from his body and continued to crawl to the Vulture’s wings and attempted to pry them off the underbelly. 

“C’mon, how’d you transform into a barnacle!” Spiderman yelled in frustration. Kicking it worked much better, until a whirling blade pierced through the hull and almost sliced off his leg. He crawled to the top side of the plane and slipped multiple times but didn’t fall. “Just your typical Homecoming, on the outside of an invisible jet, fighting my girlfriend’s dad.”

The Vulture came at him, and he ducked to avoid the blades of the wings and shot a strand of webbing to the flying man and to the jet. For a brief moment it felt like he was back at the ferry, being ripped in two. Until a panel of the plane came off and left Spiderman in the air and careening towards a spinning propellers on the jet. I am NOT reenacting finding Nemo today. 

Spiderman used enough webbing to stop the turbine and he quickly moved to the top of the plane again. The Vulture landed in front of him and tried to swipe him with his wings. Every time he missed a part of the plane would break off and cause red hot sparks to pass over him like a meteor shower. The bright green eyes of his suit betrayed no emotion and stood out against the dark. The jet flickered in a seizure inducing flashes as the plane’s cloaking mechanism failed and the wind pounded against his body. From the top of the jet’s largest turbine, Spiderman saw they were crashing directly into the city.

“Oh my God.” I need to steer it away from here! He shot a web to the wing of the plane to cause it to bend just enough to make it miss any buildings. They hit one of the rides of Coney Island and a building on the way down before skidding on the beach. Spiderman tried to hold onto the plan for as long as he could before he was flung off. He skipped across the beach like a smooth stone on a still lake.

It took a minute to get up again and he pulled off his mask to get bearings on his location and to hopefully get his ears to stop ringing. The wreckage of the jet was around him in a million torn pieces and there were multiple fires from burning equipment. Peter saw the green eyes come at him a second before the man did. He knocked Peter down and landed in another pile of wreckage. When he stood up the green eyes were still illuminated, the metal of the wings looked like ruffled feathers, and they sparked intensely.

“Hey Peter,” the Vulture said in a low mechanical voice.

With a jump, the Vulture was back in the air and used his clawed foot to hold Peter down as he beat him mercilessly. He used techniques to harm him that were reminiscent of the animal he was named after. He picked Peter up and tried to drop him from a height, and when that didn’t work because of Spiderman’s webbing, he held Peter again and stomped him into the ground repeatedly. 

I can feel my ribs breaking. Make it stop! Peter was thrown onto the ground one last time and then picked up carefully by one of the metal feathers. He could barely move, but he lifted his head to look into those green eyes once again. But the green wasn’t looking at him but over Peter’s shoulder. He was unceremoniously dropped on the ground and back on the hard sand.

When Peter looked up, he saw that the Vulture took off his mask and flew over to the tech that was in an open crate on the beach. But there was also an increased number of sparks and electricity coming from his wings. “Your wingsuit,” Peter coughed out. “Your wingsuit is going to explode!” With a shaking arm, he aimed at the crate the Vulture was trying to lift and pulled it back. 

The Vulture looked down at him. “It’s time to go, Pete.”

“I’m trying to save you!” 

The strings weren’t enough because the Vulture cut them away and tried to fly off with the box. Until his suit exploded, and he fell from the sky in a plume of fire. 

“No!” Peter ran through the fire and burned his hands on the wings, but he was able to lift the man out and carry him to an open patch of beach. He threw Mr. Toomes down and collapsed next to him and they both started to cough.

“Why’d you do it?” Mr. Toomes asked.

“Spiderman,” Peter started and took a deep breath. “Spiderman looks out for the little guy. And I don’t want Liz to know what it’s like to lose a parent.” I’m pretty sure he’ll be alright. It doesn’t sound like he is bleeding out or has any organ failure.

There was no more talking after that. The adrenaline is going to wear off soon. I need to move before that happens. It was difficult with his blurred vision, but with his last bit of strength, Peter webbed Mr. Toomes to one of the heavy boxes. Then he secured the rest of the crates, wrote a quick note for Happy (or whoever was going to come clean the mess, and dragged himself up the beach. I need to rest. With his body on autopilot, he climbed to the highest point he could manage, webbed up the area and slipped into unconsciousness. 

At some point, his mind woke up, but he didn’t want to open his eyes. If he strained his hearing, he could listen to the waves at the beach. But the sounds of the various amusement attractions and people were louder. After some time, he started to hear people going onto the sand and talking to each other. He couldn’t tell what they were saying, but it was nice to know that Mr. Toomes would be found, and everything was going to be okay. 

Peter didn’t quite sleep, like usual, it was more of a trance which was why he didn’t notice the footsteps or recognize the heartbeat that came closer to him. 

“Kid? Peter?! Are you still up there?”

Peter let out a loud groan and opened his eyes. He was in the middle of a white wooden structure, essentially a wood frame with the six sides being filled in by his webbing. 

“Peter! Kid, how hurt are you? Are you bleeding out? You need to give me something,” Mr. Stark yelled. 

It wasn’t an angry yell. It had a lot more worry and panic than Peter was used to hearing. Yeah, at the ferry that yell was more angry. 

“KID!”

Now it’s more panicky. “I’m here.” Peter crawled out of his hide and stuck his head out. Once eyes adjusted, he saw his mentor at the bottom of the rollercoaster but looking as if he was about to climb up. “You shouldn’t try that, Mr. Stark. It’s dangerous for you to climb up here without safety equipment.”

“Yeah, Happy, he’s here and he’s conscious. I can’t see his body though,” Mr. Stark said. “Possible head injury.”

What his mentor said confused Peter at first until he squinted his eyes and saw a glowing earpiece. Wait. Mr. Stark is calling for me and I can see him. And I’m pretty sure he’s not a hallucination. “Mr. Stark you’re here!”

Mr. Stark’s face twisted with concern. “Probable head injury. If it’s not safe for me to climb up, can you climb down for me, buddy?”

“I’m really tired.” Peter retracted a bit, so his body was mostly in the wooden structure.

“Don’t go to sleep! Just come down here.”

I must be in a lot of trouble if Mr. Stark is here.

“You’re not in trouble, I swear. Please Pete, just come down,” Mr. Stark begged. 

Mr. Stark is begging. He never begs. Starks don’t do that. Slowly, Peter descended headfirst down the wooden timbres. The ground was sort of spinning and he slipped a few times, but the it was getting closer. I’m glad I threw up before this otherwise it would get all over Mr. Stark. Peter frowned and stopped a few feet away from his mentor. 

“Why did you stop Pete? Is something wrong? I can get you if you can’t make it all the way.” Mr. Stark raised up his arms and stretched to reach him, but Peter was still too far away. 

“Mr. Stark, will you go away again after this? Will you be around but not talk to me again?” Peter asked. His vision swirled and he saw two unhappy mentors instead of one. 

“Pete, there was a reason why I couldn’t see you or talk to you-”

“I don’t think I can do this again,” Peter interrupted. I know I’m not supposed to interrupt, but he needs to know. “I can’t keep losing people. I can’t.” Am I crying? When did I start doing that?

Mr. Stark climbed up and soon he was able to reach Peter. He didn’t get too close, but he extended a hand. “I won’t.”

“Promise?” Peter asked as he put his hand on top of his mentors and stuck to it. 

“Promise. Just come down, please.”

Peter nodded but stopped when his head got too dizzy. They climbed down gradually, every time Peter moved down, Mr. Stark did as well until his mentor reached the boardwalk. When Peter got to the bottom, he leaned into Mr. Stark’s side who put an arm around him to keep him standing straight.    

“Happy, get the car ready and call Dr. Cho. Tell her that her most important patient needs a checkup,” Mr. Stark said.  

“Already on it, Boss,” Happy said through the earpiece. 

“Hey Happy! I hope you got my note,” Peter said next to Mr. Stark’s ear.

Happy laugh in response and Mr. Stark was smiling too. “Yeah kid, it was good. You did great.”

“I am the Spectacular Spiderman.”

“You certainly are,” Mr. Stark said as he started to move them forward. “Now don’t fall asleep, you’re not allowed to be asleep.”

“Okay.” Peter leaned further into his mentor’s side and used his powers to stick to him. “I missed you, Mr. Stark.”

“I missed you too, Peter.” Mr. Stark pulled him closer. 

Maybe later Peter would be embarrassed that Tony basically had to carry him to the car, but in the moment, it just felt good to lean on someone.

Chapter Text

It’s an important night tonight, can’t screw it up. Tony tied his silk red and blue tie into a messy knot and shrugged at its crooked appearance. The red and blue were a bit too bright, but the accessory reminded him of a certain missing webslinger, and it felt appropriate for who they were meeting tonight.  

“One would think that you’d know how to tie a tie by now, Mr. Stark,” Pepper said from behind him. Her nails traced along the back of his suit until she faced him and went to work fixing his tie. She wore a tastefully beautiful black dress with matching black stockings and shoes. 

“Maybe I do and maybe it’s my goal to get your hands on me, Miss Potts,” Tony responded. 

He watched as she struggled to keep the smile from forming on her face. “What an absolutely dastardly scheme, Mr. Stark.” She finished her work and brought the knot up to his throat securely. “I cannot believe people consider you a superhero and not a villain.” 

They came together for a long kiss that Pepper broke first to get air and glance at a clock. “As much as I would love for this to continue, we have to get going. Especially since we need to drive ourselves today.”

Tony sighed and reluctantly let her out of his arms, and they made their way to the garage. Happy was busy with the move tonight and Tony didn’t trust anyone else not to blab about where the Starks were going on this fine evening. It was a good night to meet Harrington and his fiancée because most people in the building were too preoccupied with the move to notice them leaving and Peter was busy at his dance. I’ll have to ask Harrington to keep me updated when he picks Peter up later. I want to know everything about him and his little date.

His mind drifted to the move briefly and what it would mean for the future. All the Avengers items were now out of the tower, save for his most updated suit and a few half-finished projects. Even the emblem on the side had been changed back to Stark Industries, indicating all ties to the superheroes were severed. 

Gone from his immediate view, but not from his life.  

It was an honest miracle that the kid never found any of the Avengers stuff and messed with it. It gives me a headache just thinking of how much trouble Peter could have got into with all that shit. I guess by the time Happy got serious about packing this up, he was already out of the house.

“What went wrong?” Pepper as she looked up from her phone. “You have that look on your face. Why? Did Ms. Sarr and Mr. Harrington cancel?”

“No, no. I was just thinking,” Tony responded. Nothings come on through my earpiece, thank God. They drove to Biagio’s, of course, they always had a table set aside for Tony, and more importantly they always had another table set aside that was in a different room for more privacy. At this point it was critical that they made a good impression on their dinner mates while keeping the press uninformed. If this goes well, they could help us get Peter back. 

They arrived first and Tony went to order wine on reflex before Pepper caught him and they ordered a pitcher of Sprite for the table. Where would I be without her?

Harrington and Ms. Sarr showed up not too long after that. They looked very dressed up and somewhat nervous to be escorted back to the VIP room. Tony stood up and shook both their hands. “I’m sure you know who I am. I’m glad to finally meet you two in person. Thanks for taking care of my kid.”

His guests had different reactions to that, Harrington’s face crinkled into a fond smile and Sarr’s into a polite one filled with skepticism. Alright, he probably didn’t tell his wife about Peter being enhanced and that we’ve been in contact. It’s not a good start to a marriage and does not make me look good. Fantastic. They sat down and Pepper exchanged pleasantries with them as well. 

They just barely managed to get through small talk and looking through the menu when Tony’s watch lit up signaling a text notification. I thought I turned that off. It was probably Happy telling him that the move was going well, if there was a real problem, he would call him over the earpiece. No one noticed the first time his watch lit up, but Pepper (his ever-observant hawk) saw when the watch lit up the second time. The third and subsequent ones were caught by Ms. Sarr’s judgmental glare. 

“Mr. Stark are you too busy for us?” Ms. Sarr asked while sipping from her glass.

“Dear-” Harrington tried to interrupt. 

“No, this is important. If he doesn’t have time for us, he wouldn’t have time for Peter,” Ms. Sarr responded as she looked Tony in the eyes. “As his current caseworker it is important that I know these things.” 

“Tony Stark is a very busy man, but he has ample time for Peter in his life,” Pepper defended. She put a hand over his and squeezed tightly. “We both do.”

The social worker accepted that answer with a nod. Keep calm. She’s just doing his job. His eye twitched when his watch lit up again. Keep calm. Happy is just trying to do his job. They made it just past ordering their food when his earpiece came alive. “Tony why the fuck have you not been reading my messages?!” Karen boomed. 

Tony winced from the volume and from the faces of the women at the table. “Excuse me for a moment,” Tony said to his guests. He got out of the booth and went a couple steps away. “Karen, this better be good. You know Pepper and I are busy tonight.” 

“Ned just informed me that Peter’s date’s father is the Vulture and he’s going after him by himself! You need to get to the location now, I’m sending it to you!” Karen yelled. 

“What? What the hell are you talking about?” Tony pulled out his phone and read over the hurried messages Karen had been sending him. FUCK. All at once it felt like the lights were too bright and the sounds of pots and people in the kitchen were too much. Black was at the edge of his vision before he managed to snap out of it. 

How could this happen? How did I let this happen again? Alright, be calm. You need to focus. You have a job to do. “Karen, summon a suit to the location and I’ll meet it there.” 

“Right away, Tony,” Karen confirmed, now more composed.

Tony quelled his shaking and went back over to the table. “I need to leave. Peter is in trouble.” He took a calming breath. “Short version is his date’s dad is a super villain and Peter went to confront him by himself. I’m going to their last known location and I’ll meet you back at the tower after we sort this out.”

He didn’t wait for a response before he ran out of the restaurant.  

As he sped down the road he kept in constant contact with Karen for updates on the situation. “Is there any more information you can give me? Better yet, can you get a hold of Ned for me? I’m sure he knows more than what he told you.”

“I cannot call Ned back. He is in trouble for leaving the dance and aiding Peter with school computers. I’ll know more when your suit is there to analyze the situation,” Karen answered. 

“Right, anything you know about the bird fucker that you never told me?”

Karen didn’t get a chance to answer because another call came through, this time from Happy. “Something went wrong with the move!” Happy said with an unusual panic in his voice, “and I think I just saw the plane going down.”

Fuck. Like this night couldn’t get any worse. “Remember that bird guy Peter was going after? Pretty sure it’s him.” Then Tony filled him in with the little information he knew as he drove up to a collapsed building. “What the fuck is this Karen, I thought Peter and the bird fucker were supposed to be here!”

“They were,” Karen answered. 

“Preliminary scans of the building indicate no heat signatures,” Friday said. 

“I just got word the plane crashed on Coney Island. I’m leaving to go check out the wreckage. Fuck, Tony, I don’t know how this got so bad,” Happy said.

Because we constantly put this guy on the back burner. He wanted to say that, but right now was not the time to play the blame game. “But we’ll make it better. Just get to where the plane crashed and secure the area, I’ll be there after I check out his last location.”

“On it. See you soon, Boss.” Happy hung up and Tony let the metal of the suit encase him. He flew around the wreckage and inspected the area. 

“I believe you should move on, Boss,” Friday said gently after fifteen minutes. “If Peter would have passed away under the building, I would have detected a fading signature. It is likely that he is at the crash site.”

Like most women in his life, Friday was usually right, but there was still an uncomfortable weight in his stomach that made him want to linger around the area to make sure Peter wasn’t there. The kid has a problem with thermoregulation, he may be hard to spot with heat signatures. Once he overturned a good portion of the rubble he sighed and flew into the sky. “Give me a path to Happy’s location and drive the car back to the tower, dear.” 

The heaviness in his stomach didn’t abate from his search through the warehouse and it only got worse as he approached the beach. Calm down Stark, if they found his body on the beach, Happy would have called you. The plane landed on the sandy beach--the small miracles of life--and not into any of the amusement areas of Coney Island. But on the beach, there were fires and various technologies strewn about. The jet was absolutely torn to shreds and Tony mentally thanked Happy that they decided to have the plane autopilot. No normal human would have survived the crash. 

His people were everywhere as they surveyed the area and prodded the webbed restrains attached to stacked crates. Tony landed on the beach and stepped out of the suit to Happy. “What’s the current situation?”

“The beach is secured, but I know the press will be here soon. We’re working to put out the fires now and we’ll begin to get everything out of here shortly,” Happy informed. 

“Yeah, that’s great and all, but do you know where Peter is?” Tony asked with strained patience. 

“I’m not sure, but I would assume he left.”

As he spoke, Tony scanned the area further and his eyes landed on a man webbed to some crates with a note flapping close to him. “That’s the guy, huh?”

“Yeah, he wouldn’t talk to me, only smiled and gestured to the note the kid left.” 

“Let’s see if he talks to Iron Man,” Tony said as he strode to the man. Happy tried to call out and hold him by his shoulder, but he approached the villain anyway. Tony’s eyes darted to the note first, which had an apology on it written in shaky, rough scrawl, and then down to the man. “You know, of all the reasons I was scared of my kid dating, I didn’t think this would be one of them.”

The bird fucker smiled. “Sort of a shame things probably won’t work out between him and Liz. I like him,” he said in a rough graveled voice. 

Sure as shit it won’t work out between them. Tony narrowed his eyes and took a step forward and extended an arm that had a wrist repulsors on it. “You’re going to tell me where he is.”

“Get that outta my face Stark, I know you won’t kill me after your boy went through so much trouble to save my ass. He limped in that direction,” he said as he gestured to the amusement rides with his head. “I think he climbed up the Cyclone over there, but it’s kind of hard to see from this angle.” The man huffed and smiled again. “You know, I can’t believe he’s yours. He’s too good of a kid.”

Sure enough, near the top of the structure, moonlight reflected off a cocoon of thick white strands. Tony dropped his arm and looked down at the man at his feet. A man who, for the most part, looked fairly uninjured and coherent. “Yeah, he is. You should count yourself lucky for that.”

He turned to Happy, who’d been watching silently. “I’m going to go see if he’s up there. I’ll keep you updated on his condition. Get ready to leave quickly if he’s hurt.” Luck was on his side in that most people were preoccupied with watching his people with the plane crash and not with him slipping away. Most people left the amusement park and the area around the structure was clear. 

The structure that was also smeared with blood. 

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. “Kid? Peter?! Are you still up there?” Tony shouted up to the cocoon.

There was a vast silence before there was a loud groan. 

“Peter! Kid, how hurt are you? Are you bleeding out? You need to give me something.”

There was more silence.  

“KID!” Oh God, oh God, he’s dying up there. I should have brought the suit with me. Tony put his hands and feet on the wooden beams and went to climb up the rollercoaster. 

“I’m here,” Peter said quietly and stuck his head out from his hide. Even from a distance, Tony could tell he was unfocused and confused. “You shouldn’t try that, Mr. Stark. It’s dangerous for you to climb up here without safety equipment.”

“Did you find him?” Happy asked through the earpiece. 

“Yeah, Happy, he’s here, I can’t see his body though,” Tony responded. “Possible head injury.”

Peter’s eyes narrowed and in the next moment they widened, and he had a huge smile on his face. “Mr. Stark you’re here!”

“Probable head injury. If it’s not safe for me to climb up, can you climb down for me, buddy?”

“I’m really tired.”

Dear lord he’s probably concussed, and he wants to go to sleep. This kid and his injuries. It’ll take way too long to get him down if he passes out too. “Don’t go to sleep! Just come down here. Please Pete, just come down,” Tony begged. 

Slowly, Peter descended headfirst down the wooden timbres. It felt like Tony had a miniature heart attack every time he saw the kid slip. He almost got all the way down before he froze and just stared at Tony. 

“Why did you stop Pete? Is something wrong? I can get you if you can’t make it all the way.” Tony raised up his arms and stretched to reach him, but Peter was still too far away. C’mon, just a little bit further!

“Mr. Stark, will you go away again after this? Will you be around and not talk to me again?” Peter asked. His voice was small and childlike. Which made sense because Peter is a child.

“Pete, there was a reason why I couldn’t see you or talk to you-”

“I don’t think I can do this again,” Peter interrupted. “I can’t keep losing people. I can’t.” 

Now that they were closer, Tony could see how unfocussed Peter’s eyes were and how they were dilating oddly. As his kid cried, his tears dropped onto Tony as a terrible impersonation of rain. How can he just say stuff like this? How do I respond to that? In a split-second decision, Tony climbed up the structure until he was close enough to touch him but only extended his hand. “I won’t.”

“Promise?” Peter asked as he put his hand on top of Tony’s and stuck to it. 

Sticky, but not. “Promise. Just come down, please.”

Peter nodded and they climbed down together. When they reached the bottom, Peter leaned into Tony’s side, and he had to put an arm around his kid to make sure he could stand straight. This isn’t good. He would never willingly go into my arms if this was a normal injury. “Happy, get the car ready and call Dr. Cho. Tell her that her most important patient needs a checkup,” Tony ordered.  

“Already on it, Boss.” Happy responded.

“Hey Happy! I hope you got my note,” Peter shouted into the earpiece. 

Happy laughed and Tony smiled at him. “Yeah kid, it was good. You did great.”

“I am the Spectacular Spiderman.”

“You certainly are.” Tony adjusted the boy in his arms and tried to move them forward. “Now don’t fall asleep, you’re not allowed to be asleep.”

“Okay.” Peter plastered himself into Tony’s side and used his powers to cling to him. “I missed you, Mr. Stark.”

“I missed you too, Peter.” Tony pulled him as close as possible and carefully brought them to Happy’s car. It didn’t take much maneuvering to get them both into the back seat which caused his worry to grow. He’s far too pliant for my liking. As soon as they were comfortably settled, Tony turned up the heat and waited for Happy to get in the car. “Preliminary scan, Karen.” 

“From what I can tell, nothing life threatening,” Karen said.

“That’s it?” The kid’s Underoos suit was ripped to hell and he had very visible cuts that already clotted over and bruises on his face that started to bloom. Not to mention the probable concussion and the weird breathing. 

“Get better sensors in your car,” Karen replied. “And Helen Cho is already waiting in the med bay, I told her to come once we saw the warehouse.”  

“Karen?” Peter croaked. “Is that you?”

“Yes Peter, I’m very happy to see you,” she said softly. “I was very worried about you.”

There was a dopey smile on his kid’s face. “I’m happy to hear you. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Peter hummed and snuggled down into the car seats and Tony’s side. “Hey now, no sleeping, remember?” Tony said and shook him gently. I hope to Christ he doesn’t have a spinal injury. I’m putting advanced sensors in these cars immediately after this. It took another few minutes for Happy to get to the car, and by that time Peter was rambling about the intricacies of bear, cat, bird, and spider interactions. Tony had a hard time following his train of thought and every so often Happy would send him worried glances. 

The second they reached the tower, the car was swarmed by medical staff who took Peter away on a gurney. When Tony tried to follow, Helen broke away from her underlings and got between them. “I’m not going to leave his side, Helen,” Tony said as he looked her in the eyes. 

“Just don’t get in our way,” Helen said and then went back to her team.

Tony watched over Helen and her three lackeys as they worked and only looked away when they put Peter in a hospital gown. He’s probably going to have a panic attack when he wakes up when he realizes someone had to dress him. While he kept watch, he texted Pepper to keep her updated and so she could relay what was happening to Peter’s legal guardians. Once the tests stopped and all the doctors calmed down, the other three were allowed in the room. Four chairs were brought in so they could sit around the hospital bed that contained a dazed Peter Parker. 

Pepper and Tony sat to the right of Peter, and the medical staff had brought Pepper the most comfortable chair, those bastards. And Harrington and Sarr stared at them from the other side of the bed. “Wow, I sure am popular,” Peter said as everyone sat down. 

It broke the tension that had been steadily building up in the room between his four guardians. “Yeah Petey-pie, you sure are,” Tony said softly. 

“Alright, I’ll start with the head and make my way down,” Helen said and cleared her throat. “He has a concussion, a black eye, lacerations all over his body which has resulted in various stitches, just as many bruises, three cracked ribs and one broken one, the broken one managed to prod his lungs and cause internal bleeding. Thankfully, no other broken bones but I can’t explain the large burn mark on his chest, it’s not recent but I’m not sure why it hadn’t healed before this. He also has some foreign particles in his lungs consistent with debris from a fallen building and I need to run tests to make sure he didn’t inhale asbestos or lead. Questions?”

“How exactly does a fifteen-year-old get these injuries?” Harrington asked worriedly. 

Helen looked between Tony and Harrington and settled her gaze on Tony. “That’s not up to me to disclose. Anyway, I have him on fluids and painkillers right now. I’ll probably switch him off the painkillers within a day and give him some antibiotics. With this kid’s luck he probably has three different types of infections. He’ll probably be groggy and out of it until at least tomorrow if not a couple days. I order bed rest for at least two weeks,” Helen finished. 

“Two weeks? You said he has a broken rib!” Harrington said in disbelief. “Children with these injuries can take months to fully recover!”

“Take it up with Stark,” Helen said as she flipped through her clipboard. “I need to finish running some tests. Click the button next to his bed for assistance. Good night.”

That could have been better, but I guess it could have gone a lot worse. 

“Stark, you have some explaining to do,” Ms. Sarr growled. “You need to explain how he got these injuries, who exactly gave him these injuries, how you knew where he was, why he has his own doctor at your house, and why you’re not surprised by any of this!” 

“And before you said Liz Allen’s father was a super villain. That can’t be possible, he’s a hard-working businessman,” Harrington added.

Wow, impeccable, it got worse. Sorry kid, time to get the secret out. “You ever hear of Spiderman?” Tony asked. 

“Of course, Mr. Stark. We’re the same person. I thought you knew that,” Peter said with a head tilt. 

“Even concussed and high as a kite, you still won’t call me Tony, how about that,” Tony said to try to lighten the mood. 

“I’m floating!”

“You sure are, sweetie,” Pepper said and gently held Peter’s hand. 

Both Harrington and Ms. Sarr looked shocked. Then Ms. Sarr turned to her fiancé, “did you know about this?”

“No, I just knew he was different. It makes sense though, looking back,” Harrington said thoughtfully.

Ms. Sarr looked at Tony incredulously, “I’ve seen reports of him getting stabbed-”

“Lightly stabbed,” Peter slurred.

“And beaten by people at night. He’s saved people from burning buildings and the whole Washington Monument incident. Do you condone this? Do you force him to do these things?” Ms. Sarr asked rapidly. 

“He was doing this long before he met me,” Tony said as he raised his hands in a defensive manner.

“But you didn’t stop him?” Harrington questioned. 

“Hey, I tried. Multiple times, in fact.”

“For Lord’s sake he’s a fifteen-year-old boy!” 

“No one can stop me from helping people!” Peter said with defiance. “Not even IronDad.” The moment was undercut by the fact that he slurred half the words and his body was slowly moving back and forth. 

Wait. What did he…? Tony looked to Peter with surprise and then turned to Pepper, who had a large grin on her face and then laughed aloud. Both Harrington and Ms. Sarr looked as stunned as Tony felt with the admission. 

“You heard the boy,” Pepper said, her voice still laced with amusement, “no one is going to stop him. And if he was under our care tonight, he would have been in his regular Spiderman suit, which would have protected him.”

“It’s why I made it for him,” Tony said. I need to help make our case, at least a little bit. “The one that I’m working on now should make him bulletproof.”

Harrington blinked. “Bulletproof?”

“Yeah, it’d help with all the knives he likes to run into as well. Kid likes to find trouble.”

“That’s not true. Trouble finds me. Ms. Pep, he’s telling lies. Make him stop,” Peter whined and squeezed her hand.

“Why don’t you talk for a bit Peter? What’s been on your mind lately?” Pepper asked gently. 

Wow, a way to keep the kid awake and to get the other two to stop asking questions. I’d probably be dead without this woman. The four of them sat and listened to Peter’s ramblings about various topics which included but were not limited to: how scary his friend MJ was, goats, clouds and their shapes, spider May, Pepper’s hair color, his hand moving back and forth and getting closer to his face, the whole process of him eating a rat, Ned, Star Wars, Legos, the difference between lightly stabbed and regular stabbed, and so much more. I am so glad Friday recorded all of this.   

Peter went on for several hours and only slightly stopped when he needed to drink water, which ended up with his hospital gown being soaked. At some point it was decided that they would look after the kid in shifts because it was getting so late. That boiled down to Ms. Sarr and Harrington going to the guest floor for a few hours to get some rest and Pepper working on a press release for the inevitable media frenzy in the morning. And that left Tony to listen to his high spider child. 

If this was what it was like to watch me in college, I need to apologize to Rhodey and send Mamma Rhodes an edible arrangement. 

As much as Tony loved listening to high Peter, when Helen gave him the okay to fall asleep, Tony was grateful for the silence. The near silence. There were still the sounds of Peter’s breathing (an occasional snore), along with the beeping of machines and Pepper tapping on her tablet. 

“You can fall asleep too, you know,” Pepper said. Her eyes only flicked up to meet his before going back to her work. 

She hasn’t slept in almost twenty-four hours and her clothes are a wrinkled mess, but she’s still the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen. “I could. But then again, you could too.”

“Not possible. I’m still trying to figure out how we’re going to address our plane crashing in the middle of New York tomorrow.”

“Hey, it wasn’t in the middle of New York, only a little edge piece. You’ll figure something out, you’re Pepper Potts.”

“That I am.” 

He was asleep within a half an hour. 

Tony woke up to many of the same sounds, sights, and feelings that were there when he went to sleep. There was still the same beeping and breathing but now Pepper was passed out in her chair and his back ached like a bitch. I should probably wake her up before her back feels like this. He was about to wake up his love when his eyes glanced to Peter, who stared back at him.

Holy shit! “Kid! How long have you been awake?! Why didn’t you wake one of us up?!”

From the corner of his eye, Tony saw Pepper startle, sit up in her chair, and catch her Stark Pad before it fell to the ground. “I didn’t want to wake you guys,” Peter said in a tired voice. “You were up for a long time and needed sleep. I’m sorry.”

Tony sighed and let his body relax into his uncomfortable chair. “It’s fine kid, I’m just glad you’re awake and you’re doing okay.”

The atmosphere was light and nice in the hospital room, but Tony knew it wouldn’t be able to last. Real life was still a thing (unfortunately) and in a few hours they’d all have to deal with the fallout of the bird fucker that caused his plane to fall out of the sky. And there was still the matter of moving all that shit to the Avengers compound. Might as well get started. “So, kiddo, you want to catch us up on what happened last night?” 

“I guess,” Peter said with a frown. “Can I get some clothes first though?”

After Tony got him a pair of shorts and one of his MIT hoodies, Peter felt comfortable enough to go through the details of the night. It was obvious that he left out some details and glossed over some things, but Tony didn’t want to grill him at the moment. Listening to the kid’s recount on his interactions with the Vulture felt like when Tony watched him in the suit for the first time. 

Absolutely terrified.    

I can’t believe that fuck thought it was a good idea to pull a gun on a kid. Thank fuck Peter got out of the building before it collapsed. If he wasn’t being transferred to a cell right now, I would make sure Adrian Toomes had a little accident in transport. 

“And I couldn’t just let him die, you know? I couldn’t do that to him. Or Liz.” Peter continued to look down at the thin hospital blanket and rubbed the edge of it between his fingers. “After that it gets a little fuzzy. I didn’t say or do anything embarrassing, did I?”

“Nope. Not at all,” Tony said with a smirk.

“I don’t believe you. Karen?”

“You were a joy to watch. Reminiscent of the ‘Charlie Bit My Finger’ video on YouTube,” Karen said joyfully.

“What? NO! Get rid of all the footage of me like that!”

“No,” Tony, Pepper, Karen, and Friday said at the same time. 

“You guys are the worst. One out of five Yelp review,” Peter huffed. Then he looked between Tony and Pepper. “What are we going to do now?”

“Not sure,” Tony said truthfully and then looked over to his love. “Pep?”

Pepper gave him an unimpressed expression and then turned back to Peter. “We had to tell Mr. Harrington and Ms. Sarr about your secret identity as Spiderman, I’m sorry.”

“Were they okay with it?” Peter asked nervously. 

“More or less. After the explanation they stopped yelling at me, so I see it as a win,” Tony said. 

“Okay.” Peter nodded and looked as though he was trying to solve a jigsaw puzzle in his head. “If honesty worked with them, do you think we could just tell everything to the detectives too? They’d probably stop investigating me if we did,” Peter said quietly. 

Damn, I forgot about those two. “There’s a good chance it might work. But we should think about that extensively before we make a decision,” Tony said.

Next to him, Pepper raised an eyebrow. Geez, I am capable of thinking before I act. 

Peter went back to looking down at his hands and messing with the edge of the blanket. “Yeah, that sounds right. And, um, sorry about getting you guys involved in all of this. I’ll be out of the tower as soon as I can be, I swear.”

“Oh honey, I’m sorry for what I said before. I think you’re exactly where you’re supposed to be. Here with us,” Pepper said with a kind smile. 

Peter’s head shot up. “Really?”

“Really. I think Mr. Harrington, Ms. Sarr, and the detectives will figure it out soon as well. And please, call me Pepper.”

Tony snorted, “yeah, good luck with th-”

“Okay Pepper!” Peter chirped. 

“You’re a little shit, you know that?” Tony grumbled and then ruffled Peter’s hair. It made his chest warm when Peter didn’t flinch away from his hand and only whined about him messing up his style. 

The happy revelation was cut off by a knock on the door and an exhausted looking Happy Hogan that walked through it. “Aren’t you supposed to be asleep, kid?” Happy grouched. 

“I missed you too, Happy.”

The response made Happy look a little less tired, but it didn’t last long. “We just finished cleaning up the beach and I wanted to ask you what we’re going to do next about the press.”

And then all the attention in the room went back to Pepper. “For the most part, we’re going to be honest and say the jet was attacked and Spiderman was able to stop the robbery and thanks to him the plane crashed safely on the beach. We’re going to mention how we’re going to increase security measures and clean up the mess on Coney Island entirely.”

“Sounds great, Pep. Flawless as always,” Tony complimented.

“Thanks, but not quite. This whole incident does not look good to investors. Thank God the market closed before this happened, but I expect there to be a sharp decline as soon as the market opens on Monday,” Pepper said and then exhaled loudly. “And I’m not sure how to soften the blow.”

“By giving the people something else to focus on,” Peter piped up. “You should mention all that stuff and add something else, like with what you did with the ferry stuff.”

Smart kid. He already picked up on one of Pep’s favorite business strategies. 

“I’d love to do that, but we don’t have something like that to announce,” Pepper countered.

Peter looked unsure before straightening his back and squaring his shoulders. “If it would help out, I can unmask myself and-”

“I don’t think so, kid. Idea vetoed. You’re not going to martyr yourself two days in a row. Nice try. We’ll discuss you coming out to the media as Spiderman in the future,” Tony said. 

“Well, what do you suggest, Boss?” Happy asked. 

Now is as good a time as any. “Hey, Hap, you still got that ring?”

“The ring? Oh, yeah, the ring!” Happy felt around his jacket and then shoved his hand in his pocket and brought out the ring. “I’ve been carrying this since 2008!” Then he tossed it to Tony.

Tony caught it and turned to Pepper, giving her his billion-dollar smile. “What do you say, Pep?”

Her face said ‘you’ve gotta be kidding me’ and her mouth said, “I think I can think of something better than that.”

“No offense dear, but we only have an hour before the market opens,” Tony said and grasped her hand lightly. “And you’re telling me you’d refuse to make an honest man out of me?”

Pepper shook her head, laughed, and let Tony put the ring on her finger. “I guess it’s a yes then, Mr. Potts.” They met together in a breath stealing kiss.  

There was a gagging sound next to them and they broke the kiss to turn to their kid. “That was gross, but congratulations Mr. Stark and Pepper!” 

“Way to kill the mood, Spiderling.”

“Spiderman!” Peter squeaked out. The room went back to friendly conversation and planning out exactly how the press release would go before Harrington and Sarr came back to take over spider watching duty. 

The press release itself went better than expected, which meant according to plan. The media didn’t focus much on the plane crash in New York, thank god, and much more on Tony and Pepper’s engagement. Then there were countless wedding questions thrown their way, which kind of sucked ass because he only had a passing knowledge on wedding shit, but he got through it. 

His kid made fun of him when they got back to his bedside afterwards like the little shit he was, but overall, the day went better than expected. 

The mandatory two weeks of Peter’s bed rest also went better than expected. Mostly because Tony thought Peter would try to escape med bay at every possible turn. And he did try to escape at least every day, but that was less than Tony usually did when he got hurt, so he counted that as a win. The school allowed Peter to complete his classes remotely during the time he recovered from the traumatic experiences of Homecoming. Apparently, many people at the dance saw Peter after he came out of Adrian Toomes’ car, so the school supported the kid getting help. 

It’s the small miracles.

The small life altering (scarring) miracles. 

The two weeks after the plane crash were filled with him, Pepper, Happy, Harrington, and Sarr staying with him on rotation to make sure Peter didn’t do anything stupid and he got all his class work done. They also got a few more great conversations out of Peter whenever his painkillers kicked in along with a lot of whining about being bored.

I forgot how nice it was to have him here. On Peter’s last mandatory day at the tower, they decided to tinker around in the lab. The kid wasn’t fully healed yet, he still had some visible injuries, but he was cleared to help out. They weren’t working on anything too important anyway, only their green energy projects that have since come back for review. They spent most of the day building the damn wave machine they needed to test out their tidal power buoy and were putting on the last touches when Tony finally decided to talk to his kid. 

Not like they didn’t talk and joke around, but they avoided the big things. Doesn’t want to confront emotional conversations, he’s just like me. “Alright kid, I just want to say that maybe I should have heard you out on the whole Vulture thing. May have overreacted a bit too.”

Peter’s eyes were wide open, and his jaw hung before he snapped it closed and gave Tony a smirk. “Never thought THE Iron Man would apologize to a lowly vigilante superhero but look at this.”

Tony rolled his eyes. And he responds just like me, that’s for sure. “Yeah, yeah, you can brag about it to Karen and Ted later. But that’s all I have to say on that, so we can get back to finishing this.”

“His name is Ned. And, uh, we can in a minute, but I wanted to, um, apologize too. I shouldn’t have yelled at you and said those things. You were just trying to keep me safe. And I appreciate that,” Peter said sincerely. 

I’ve been wrong all along. He’s better than me.  

“Lady Boss would like to inform you that Mr. Harrington and Ms. Sarr have arrived for dinner,” Friday said.  

“Well, Underoos, it’s time to feed the ravenous black hole that is your metabolism.”

They went up to the penthouse and had Italian food delivered specially from Biagio’s. Peter sat between the two couples but tended to favor and lean into the Stark’s space more than the Harrington’s side. Their guests were blown away by just how much food Peter could eat at once and looked at Peter curiously when he cleaned himself at the table with his hands. Pepper was more discreet with her observations as she watched the kid pick up water seemingly by magic and scrub his face. 

When they all finished, the adults began to clean up the table. Peter helped as well, but Tony knew the kid had been increasingly fidgety the last few days. “Go ahead Spiderling, I know you’re dying here on the ground with the rest of us boring humans,” Tony said and made a gesture to the ceiling.

“Thanks Mr. Stark!” Peter ran to the wall, climbed up, and disappeared into the webs. It was another thing the other adults in the room were bewildered to see. As they cleaned up from dinner, they would all occasionally pause and watch as Peter repaired any broken strings and change the outdated images. This month’s theme seemed to be flowers. 

Just as they were finishing up washing the last couple dishes and packing up the extra food into take out containers there was a gasp from the ceiling. “I almost forgot!” Peter crawled out so they could see him. “I have to show you guys May!” Peter unstuck from the ceiling, did a flip while he was in the air, and landed in a perfect crouch before sprinting down the hallway to Tony’s office. 

Ms. Sarr had gone white, and it looked like Harrington was about to have a heart attack just from watching the kid. 

Now they know how it feels. Pepper and Tony went back to packing up food as Peter brought out his pet to show the other couple. They looked just as thrilled seeing her as they did watching Peter flip off the ceiling, but they at least listened to the kid as he went through all the tarantula facts he knew. 

“The first thing they commented on when they got up here was the ceiling,” Pepper whispered to him as they observed their kid. “I think they’re starting to get the idea that this is a good home for Peter.”

They watched as May came out of her enclosure and crawled up to Peter’s shoulder. “Isn’t she the cutest?! Are you okay Mr. Harrington? You look a little pale,” Peter said to his teacher.    

“I’m fine Peter, just a little tired,” Harrington responded. “She’s lovely.”

Tony turned back to his fiancée, “I get the feeling they’re thinking that too.”

As they placed the last of the food into take out containers and Peter put May back in Tony’s office, Tony felt queasy with the thought of the kid leaving again. They all stood outside the elevator doors as they waited for it to come up. “I’ll have a date scheduled in family court to sort all this out. I’m sure with your name it won’t take too long, Mr. Stark,” Ms. Sarr said as they waited.

“You should give them Pepper’s name, people tend to like her better,” Tony joked. “But please try to keep this as quiet as you can.”

“Of course, it would be in Peter’s best interests. You should also begin to prep your lawyers.”

The elevator dinged and the doors opened. Peter looked unsure for a moment before wrapping his arms around Tony. “I’ll see you soon, Mr. Stark.” 

I feel like one of those stress toys where the eyes pop out when you squeeze them, dear God. After a few vertebras cracked and Peter slammed his ear to the reactor in his check, Tony put his arms around him too. “Yeah kid, I want my lab assistant back soon.”

Peter nodded and ended the hug and then he turned to Pepper and extended a hand to shake hers. “I look forward to seeing you again too, Pepper.” 

She may get her first name, but I get a hug. I’m still the best. 

“To you as well, Peter,” Pepper replied kindly.

The three went into the elevator and Peter gave them one final wave as the doors closed and Tony felt more relaxed when he saw the Stark watch on his wrist. From there, Pepper went into her office to do some work and Tony went to his lab to continue his progress on the Iron Spider suit. They both collapsed in their bed at around two in the morning, exhausted but happy. 

It was an unfamiliar (but good) feeling to know his family would be together again soon. It was like the one he had before the ferry incident, but better because everything had a higher chance of working out. Multiple people wanted the same thing, and the plan didn’t hinge on keeping the truth from anyone. The biggest variable was if the press would catch wind of any of the court proceedings. It would suck for the kid to lose his anonymity, but it’s better than what’s been going on lately, so I’ll take it. 

Tony sighed and pulled Pepper so close that she was flush against his front. She was warm and soft and everything he ever needed, right in his arms. 

Laying together and almost drifting off to sleep made him think about how it would be in the future. Knowing that they would be together at the end of the night and the beginning of the day when work allowed it and the fact that their kid would soon be sleeping down the hall. Two of the most important people in his life would be safe with him in the tower. And they’d be able to do things together as a family, like run the company or have holidays with the Rhodes (and even Pepper’s parents). He couldn’t think of anything to improve his little fantasy. 

Almost anything. 

“I want to have a baby,” Tony blurted out. Fuck, why did I say that out loud? The admission also killed the quiet lull of being almost asleep and brought him back to wide awake. 

Pepper stopped breathing for a moment before letting out a sigh. “Okay,” she said in a whisper. “But we need to have the wedding before I get pregnant. I want to look good in my dress.”

He kissed up her neck to her ear. “You look stunning in everything you wear. No matter what.”

“That’s true,” she said and turned in his arms, so they faced each other. “But it’ll be the event of the year and I want all the magazines and news casters to eat their hearts out.”

“Again dear, they’d do that anyway.”

Her hand came up to stroke his face and their lips were only an inch apart. “Well then, I guess I shouldn’t wear white on my wedding day.” They came together in blinding hot passion. 

The next morning, they were able to sleep in because spider string curtains blocked out the sun.

Chapter Text

Peter’s first day back at school was a little surreal. 

The last time he saw any of his peers was at the dance, but to them it was old news. People were still talking about it, but everyone’s attention was focused on finals and the last two and a half weeks of school. Well, until they noticed Peter was there. Is this what it feels like to be popular? Because I don’t like it. 

Before the dance, the stares of his classmates had died down and so had the looks of pity, but now it felt like most people (students, teachers, and faculty) saw him as something they needed to think about and have an opinion on. Peter pretended to mess with his phone the whole trip to Ned’s locker as he heard everyone. The gossip wasn’t just what happened at the dance but his new clothes and the fact he lived with Mr. Harrington as well. It was nerve wracking. 

“Finally back, loser?” MJ asked from behind him. 

Why don’t my spider senses ever warn me of her? He almost jumped when she appeared next to him and blocked him from the stares of his peers. “Just in time for finals, lucky me,” Peter joked weakly. 

“Just in time to help me plan for next year's Academic Decathlon strategy to get to states,” MJ said as she walked beside him.  

“Sounds like fun.” They loitered around Ned’s locker and waited for him to arrive. He plastered himself to the lockers with MJ acting as a buffer. 

When Ned made eye contact with him, he broke out in a huge smile and rushed over. And when he got close enough, Peter took the initiative and gave his friend a tight hug, which was returned after Ned let out an ‘oof!’. I really need to work on hugging people. I need to stop body slamming them. “Dude, I’m so glad you’re back. School is so lame without you!” Ned exclaimed and then he turned to MJ, “no offense.”

“Nah, you’re right.” She shifted to lean against the lockers and moved her eyes lazily between them. “It is boring without you sneaking off to play superhero.” 

“Don’t say it so loud!” Ned whispered harshly. 

Peter could feel his heart stop for a moment and his breathing pause. “What?”

“What? You think I wasn’t smart enough to put it together?” MJ asked in an annoyed tone. 

“No! I mean yes! I mean, um, no one was supposed to. No one was supposed to know. Please don’t tell anyone. No one can know, it’d be really bad if they did. Please, MJ,” Peter begged. 

“Who else am I going to tell? You two are my only friends,” MJ said, this time with an eye roll. 

I know she told us her friends call her MJ but hearing her say that we’re her friends is...wow.

“Ugh, get that stupid look off your face.” She turned away from them, but Peter could still see her blush.

Carefully, Peter put a hand on MJ’s shoulder and when she didn’t react negatively, he pulled her in closer. The group ‘hug’ was awkward and stiff, but it was still a pleasant experience. This is great. If we were in private, I think I’d purr. It made Peter feel light and happy. Until Flash walked past them, and muttered, “fuckin’ freaks should get a room.”

“Go fuck yourself, Eugene,” MJ shot back immediately. Then she put her arm around Peter for a moment in a half side hug before they all broke apart. “You’d think he’d stop being such a dick by now.”

Both Ned and Peter hummed and started to chat while Ned got his school things ready. They didn’t talk about the dance, but about Legos and Star Wars, just like the old times. MJ didn’t join into the conversation much, only muttering about how they were nerds and losers, in her special MJ way. Ned closed his locker, and they began to walk to homeroom when a familiar face rounded the hallway corner that caused Peter to stop.

Just like before, MJ stepped forward to be in front of him slightly and Ned moved closer to him, so their shoulders were touching. You’d think they were my bodyguards or something. At the same time, Liz noticed them and froze as well. “I got this guys, you can go ahead,” Peter assured his friends. 

“Text us if you need anything, dude,” Ned said and moved away. MJ did as well, but she kept an eye on him until she couldn’t anymore. It just left Peter and Liz staring at each other. 

The bell rang and the hallway emptied out, but they stayed in place and stared at each other. “Hey, Liz,” Peter said cautiously. 

“Hey, Peter,” Liz said, just as unenthusiastically.

“I’m sorry about the dance.”

“I am too. But I’m sure it’s not your fault. And I know it must be hard for you, but I need to know if he did anything to you. I’m sorry but I need to know,” Liz said frantically. “I need to know how bad of a man he is.” 

What? She can’t be implying- “NO! No, he just gave me the shovel talk and pointed a gun at me, he didn’t do any-anything like that, I swear,” Peter responded. “He’s a good guy.”

“A good guy?” Liz scoffed, “he’s been lying to me my whole life and you just said he pulled a gun on you.”

Probably shouldn’t have told her that part. “Almost all he talked about was how much he loved you and how much he had to sacrifice for his family.”

Liz looked him over incredulously, “how could you defend him?”

“Because he is a good man doing wrong things.” He did a lot of bad things that lead to people being hurt, but I know he could be better. If given the chance to be in the right type of work, he can be better. 

“You say that as if you know...you know what? It doesn’t matter.” She wiped her face to get rid of the tears that were forming in her eyes. “I hope you’ll be able to move on from whatever you’re always going through,” Liz said and then took a deep, steadying breath.

“I hope you’re able to too,” Peter said truthfully. “If you ever need to talk about this stuff, I don’t mind.”

“My family will be moving at the end of the year to Oregon, but thanks, Peter.” She didn’t sound thankful, but she didn’t give Peter a chance to say anything else because she walked away. 

What a way to end a relationship. I should have done something different, so it didn’t have to be like this. He stood and watched her go off to her next class. 

“Parker, are you going to go to class, or do I need to escort you there?” Dr. Conners said, almost with a growl. 

“I’m leaving now Dr. Connors.” Peter kept his head down as he moved past his one-armed biology teacher and ignored the way his spider senses tingled on his neck. 

I wonder if this is how kids with divorced parents feel. Peter didn’t expect to see as much of his mentor after the dance, seeing as he now lived with Mr. Harrington and Ms. Sarr, but thankfully he was wrong. They split time between them and being at the tower with Mr. Stark and Pepper. And the divorce comparison was somewhat accurate, but that would imply having two sets of parents. Both Mr. Harrington and Ms. Sarr were wonderful people, but they still felt like his awkward teacher and his social worker. But being around Mr. Stark, and now Pepper, it kind of felt like it had with May and Ben.  

Which is odd. 

It had been feeling that way with Mr. Stark for a while, at least since Christmas, and now Pepper was becoming a staple in his life too. She still did her work for SI, but he noticed that she’d been traveling less and opted for virtual meetings. When Peter came over for lab time with Tony, she would interrupt to make sure they take breaks, and she would always ask Peter what they were working on. It was clear that she didn’t understand a lot of the science and technology talk down to the micro level, but she still listened intently. 

Tonight was a family dinner with his two sets of guardians at the tower with the detectives that were working on his case. The four of them decided that honesty was the best policy and invited them over for an off the books meal to give them an edited version of how him and Tony started to live together. The five of them stood outside the elevator doors and watched the numbers go up. 

“Is telling them an edited version of the story kind of like lying?” Peter asked as he fiddled with his tie.

“Of course not, Pete. It’s not like we can tell them everything anyway. That would take much longer than one night,” Mr. Stark said as he tried to tie his own tie. It came out crooked and he just looked down at his handiwork and shrugged.  

You’d think he’d be able to do that by now. 

Pepper rolled her eyes and began to straighten his mentor’s tie. “Think of it as strategically leaving parts out of the story. It’s all still the truth, but more of an overview.” She finished with Mr. Stark’s tie, straightened out his suit jacket, and gave him a quick kiss on the lips. 

“Especially since they could be the deciding factor on whether or not Mr. Stark will be able to foster you,” Ms. Sarr brought up.

“Wait, Mr. Stark, you want to be my foster parent?!” Peter exclaimed. He looked between the adults who all had a range of reactions from confused to realization. 

“Did no one go over that with you?” Ms. Sarr asked, giving Mr. Stark a side eye. 

“No!”

“Of course kid, why did you think Pep and I are so invested in your family court? We’re hoping to get custody of you next week,” Mr. Stark said in a joking way, but Peter could tell he was nervous.

I’m so confused. Why didn’t anyone tell me about this? “I thought the court stuff had to do with Mr. Dickenson,” Peter said.

“That’s a criminal trial in criminal court, which the detectives are handling,” Mr. Harrington said as he gestured to the still rising numbers. “But there was a general investigation on your health and wellbeing which we’re clearing up tonight. If they thought Tony was involved in any way, then they would be able to contest your placement.”

“Not that we don’t want you,” Ms. Sarr added, “but we think you’d be better suited to live here.” 

Peter’s breathing sped up and all the nervousness he had for the dinner already had multiplied. “This...this is a lot to take in,” Peter said. This is like, the WORST time to tell me this. I need to call Ned. He’s not going to believe this! 

“Easy there Spiderling, if you need to take a minute, that’s fine,” Mr. Stark said as he placed a steadying hand on Peter’s shoulder. 

“I’m-I’m good, I swear!” He had to be, mostly because there was no way he was going to start to freak out in front of the most important people in his life and the fact the elevator finally reached their floor. 

Inside was Detective Benton and Stagler along with another man Peter did not recognize. He was an older bald man who wore a tan suit. “Hello, I’m Captain Cragon, I run the 27th precinct of the Special Victims unit, it’s nice to meet you all. Especially you, Mr. Parker, it’s nice to finally meet Ben’s nephew.” 

At that Peter perked up and he took a small step forward. “You knew Ben?”

“I worked with him for a couple of years when I was still in homicide. He was a good man and I have no doubt you’ll be the same,” Captain Cragon said. He stepped forward and shook Peter’s hand. Then he held up a bottle of non-alcoholic rosé. “Now, let’s get to dinner.”

There were still four open seats at the table when they went to sit down, even though it was the fullest Peter had ever seen the table. It was nice to be able to be close to everyone, but they were still a comfortable distance away. The Starks were at one side with Mr. Stark at the head of the table, the detectives (with their captain) at the other end, and Mr. Harrington and Ms. Sarr in the middle. They already set out the food (catered by Biagio’s, of course) not long before they got there. 

“Your interior decorating is very unique,” Detective Stagler said as he sat down and stared up at the ceiling.

“He means it’s beautiful,” Detective Benton added. 

“Thank you,” Peter said with a proud smile. “I make them myself and I change them for the seasons. My favorite is the rose because it’s New York’s state flower and all,” he rambled. Right now, the images were a bouquet of various flowers along with summer birds. 

The guests at the other end of the table all had various reactions, the Captain smiled kindly, Stagler’s was blank, and Benton’s was pensive. They all have very different ways to try to hide their emotions. “That’s very nice, Peter. How do you make them?” Captain Cragon asked. 

“Well,” Tony said and clapped his hands together, “that goes into why we asked you to be here.” Then he gestured to Peter and all eyes were on him.

Peter froze as he was about to scoop baked ziti onto his plate. “Oh, it’s time to, oh, sorry. I’m Spiderman.” Ugh, eloquent as ever, Parker. Kill me. I look like a fool. At least it got a good reaction out of the detectives. “They are the same webs I use, only more long lasting.”

“And the reason why Peter had been living with Tony is because Tony has been mentoring him on being a superhero and a scientist,” Pepper added. 

“You?” Detective Stagler said in disbelief. He had raised eyebrows and he pointed at Peter, “you’re the guy running around New York, climbing buildings and stopping muggers?”

Peter looked to the Starks who nodded, indicating he was allowed to answer. “Technically, I swing around New York.” Peter went to scoop the ziti on his plate before he shrugged and moved the whole tin to be in front of him. “I can climb the walls or something after dinner if you don’t believe me.”

“I honestly can’t believe this, you must be the same age as my daughter,” Detective Stagler said.

“You’re so small,” Detective Benton said. 

“Which is why I took him under my wing,” Mr. Stark said. “So I can do my best to keep him safe.”

“You know, I can almost believe it,” Captain Cragon said. “When Ben talked about you, you were a little kid with glasses and glass bones and paper skin. Not to mention horrible asthma that left you in the hospital for days. You don’t look like that kid now.”

I couldn’t believe it either at first. “All that stuff went away when I got my powers. And now I can help people who were like me. The little guy.”

“Very well put, young man,” Captain Cragon said with a nod of his head. “I can see why you wanted to do this off the books.”

“And we trust this information will not leave this table,” Pepper said.

The three police officers all agreed and then it became more of a normal dinner with a lot of eating (a lot of it for Peter) and a lot of talking. Mr. Stark and Pepper make the perfect team. It was like they always knew what to say and always found a way to command the conversation, even against people whose job it was to get the whole truth. It was only required for Ms. Sarr, Peter, and Mr. Harrington to add information every once and a while. 

“I have to say, great choice in rosé,” Tony said near the end of dinner. “Good replacement for wine.”

“Thanks, I had a lot of time to figure out a substitute. Since ‘82,” Captain Cragon said. He took another sip of the pink liquid. 

Mr. Stark whistled. “Damn I got a measly six months and that’s hard enough. Let alone thirty years.”

“Don’t be too hard on yourself, son. The first year is the hardest,” Captain Cragon said. 

“You know I hear that a lot.” Mr. Stark raised his glass and Captain Cragon did the same. “Salute.”

Dinner was wrapping up with platters of cannolis, tiramisu, and pattetone as dessert and everyone was in a good mood. Even the detectives had lightened up and happily talked with the other two couples. Are the detectives a couple? What is this dynamic? Peter rolled one of his cannolis around on his plate and continued to listen to the adults. Overall, it was a nice dinner that fulfilled its intended purpose to paint Mr. Stark in a favorable light and clear their mentor mentee relationship. The detectives were thorough in their asks about that, but nothing was brought up about his old foster parent.

No one has updated me on that court case in weeks. It doesn’t feel like they’re tip toeing around it, it’s just like it isn’t even a topic. But it should be. It has to be. 

“You doing okay over there, Pete? You’ve been silent for a while, that’s not like you,” Mr. Stark asked. 

Now or never. Peter looked up to the detectives. “What’s going on with Mr. Dickenson?”

The atmosphere immediately dropped. 

“We shouldn’t discuss it now seeing as the investigation is still ongoing,” Detective Benton said quickly. 

“It’s only been a few months, and these things take time,” Detective Stagler added on.

“Yes, but you took him into custody, and I know you have the evidence on his computer. I know you’ve at least offered him a deal by now and I want to know what it is. My legal guardians are here and as the victim, I feel like I should be informed,” Peter said calmly. 

It looked like the detectives were going to deny him again, but the Captain raised his hand. “I’ll handle this. You sound like you know what you’re talking about, young man.” 

“Yeah, well, this isn’t my first time going through this and I wanted to be prepared.” It wasn’t just being prepared because of his own cases, but for the other people he knew as well. Mainly Felicia, when she told him her story and how the man who raped her didn’t even get charged. 

“Right now, the negotiations stand at him pleading guilty to multiple counts of possession of child pornography, creating child pornography, endangering a minor, unlawful filming, and attempt of sexual assault of a minor. He’s looking at twenty-five years and he’ll get time off for any positive identification of other perpetrators. We think there is a ring,” Captain Cragon said. 

“And you think he’s going to take that deal?” Mr. Harrington asked. His head looked back and forth between the Captain and Peter with wide eyes. 

Of course he is. “And he’ll point to enough people to get the minimum sentence of what? Ten years. Get out in half with parole due to good behavior, so he will serve about five years in prison. Or less,” Peter said thoughtfully.

Mr. Stark straightened and placed his glass down on the table with force. He looked absolutely livid. “Is that true? That fucker isn’t going away for life? All those charges and he’s most likely only going to get five years?!”

“If we want to bring more of these guys to justice then we need to get their names and this is the only way to do it,” Captain Cragon explained. 

Pepper was also furious but kept her known poised posture and even voice. “What about justice for Peter? If you or your D.A is too afraid to charge him for more, I assure you Stark Industries has the resources to do so.”

Justice. There was an echo in his mind from the multiple conversations he had with Felicia about justice. People like us don’t get it, not really. “How many others do you think he’ll give up?” Peter asked.

“At least five or as many as twenty. But we don’t know,” Detective Stagler said truthfully. He wiped his mouth and flicked his napkin on his plate. 

Detective Benton stared at him with large, compassionate eyes. “It’s not just you Peter and your pictures. It’s a lot of others as well.”

Of course it is. He had other kids before me. At least they are as happy about this as we are. “I hope you can get all the people involved and help the other victims,” Peter said with a sigh. 

“You’re not upset?” Mr. Stark asked carefully. 

“It’s just one of those things, Mr. Stark. One of those things I need to accept.” Like Uncle Ben’s pack of cigarettes in the freezer or Mr. Stark drinking sometimes. “If some of these people can get caught before they do anything and no children end up like me, it’ll be worth it.”

“We could still pursue something legally on our own. If you want,” Pepper said. She had a small frown on her face and her body was still tense.  

Like it’d do any good. Peter shrugged and kept his eyes down to his plate. He took a sip of his own glass of rosé and stared out to the twinkling lights of the city.

If finals weren’t enough to get Peter nervous, the court hearing definitely was. It’s not like it was even a big deal, the detectives and Ms. Sarr said it would take maybe a half an hour. Especially since it was a closed hearing, in the interest of his safety, so only a handful of people were allowed inside. To give the area more security, the hearing was ‘after hours’ for the judge and Happy brought his team into the building. 

The time between investigation and court hearing was apparently much shorter than usual, but as Peter was told, having a name like Pepper Potts opened a lot of doors.

After the legal jargon was out of the way, there was a questioning portion as to whether Mr. Stark was competent enough to foster Peter. Judge Lewis was an older woman--I guess judges have to be old--who looked like she wasn’t going to put up with any shit. And like any reasonable person, she was skeptical and hesitant to let Mr. Stark be Peter’s guardian at first. 

But there was so much evidence that suggested that despite everything the media blasted about Tony Stark, he was actually fit to be a parent. He’s going to be my parent, like, officially. It’s so weird to think about. Judge Lewis was convinced by several testimonies, the first was from a man named Tobey, who had been Mr. Stark’s sponsor for the last six months. “It’s been a rough road, but it always is,” Tobey said. “When the urge to drink strikes us both, we start talking about our partners and children to distract us. I guess, we’re old men now,” he said with a laugh.  

Then there were the detectives, both Benton and Stagler. “Our investigation is still ongoing, but Mr. Stark has been cleared as a suspect in any wrongdoings done to Peter Parker.”

After them, Ms. Sarr spoke on their behalf. “As Peter’s current case worker and one of his guardians, I only have his best interests in mind. As far as I can tell, so does Mr. Stark and his partner, Ms. Potts. After numerous home visits, I have concluded that the tower is a safe environment that meets Peter Parker’s special needs.”

Lastly, Mr. Harrington gave his assessment. “The staff were informed of the difficulties Peter faced when he first came to Midtown and we all accepted that and knew that he would be different from the other students. Not in a bad way, of course, but that he would be quiet and very shy and to not expect anything more than that. A quiet and shy child. But then a few months ago, the faculty and I noticed that he started to answer questions out loud, communicate with other students, and not be terrified all the time.”

Judge Lewis nodded her head. “As the only one here who knew Peter both before and after this odd situation, you would say with certainty that being around Mr. Stark is what caused this change?”

“Absolutely, I’ve seen it before with other students. How much of a difference a better home life can make.”

“And you would say that Peter’s needs will be fully met under Mr. Stark’s care? And it would be better than if he stayed in your own?”

Mr. Harrington’s smile dropped a bit. “Yes. I think Stark can provide for Peter’s needs physically, mentally, monetarily, intellectually, and emotionally better than Taniel and I can.”

“Thank you for your time, Mr. Harrington,” Judge Lewis said. She shuffled her papers around on her bench and looked up to the people of her court. “I believe I’ve made my decision, but as the child is above thirteen years of age, he is also allowed to speak on his own behalf.”  

Oh shoot, that’s my cue. Peter stood up quickly and almost knocked over his chair. “Hello ma’am, um, thank you for letting me speak.”

The older woman smiled patiently, “of course, Mr. Parker. It’s a very big decision. Now, would you like Mr. Stark to be your guardian?” 

“Yes, please,” Peter said. 

Her smile got a little wider and there was a hint of a laugh. “And you think your needs will be met? All the ones Mr. Harrington mentioned?”

“I think so. He feeds me all the time and we work in his lab a lot. I should be publishing my first patent next month, I’m very excited.”

“Ah yes, what all growing boys need. Food and science.” From behind him, Peter could hear Pepper huff and he imagined her rolling her eyes. “And you are aware of the differences this will mean for your life? Your existence will get out to the public eventually and you will be under intense evaluation and scrutiny.”

“I know. But I also know I’ll be ready for it when the time comes.” He could tell her a million reasons why Mr. Stark was better than any other living situation he’d been in for most of his life just to prove a point. It’s nice to have money. It’s nice to be fed. It’s nice to have a roof over my head and sleep in a bed. It’s nice to have someone who cares when you get home. It’s nice to have someone who understands. “And I feel safe when I’m at the tower. And feeling safe isn’t something I have very often. It’s worth it.”   

Judge Lewis nodded again. “Thank you for speaking, Mr. Parker.”

Peter sat back down and looked over the faces of the adults in the room. Most gave him encouraging looks and Mr. Harrington gave him a thumbs up. 

“I have to admit, I never thought I’d have such a high-profile case in my courtroom and similarly, I would have never thought I’d hand Tony Stark a child. But here we are,” Judge Lewis started, “I grant the transfer of guardianship from Roger Harrington to Tony Stark to foster Peter Parker for six months and after that period, the option to adopt will be open. Thank you all for your time.” She brought down her gavel and people began to stand up. 

And just like that, Peter had a new family. 

As soon as it was deemed appropriate for him to move, Peter rocketed out of his chair and into Mr. Stark's side. Mr. Stark’s arm came around him, so they were in a side hug and he wrapped his other arm around Pepper, who had gone to his other side. They stayed like this as the few people who were invited into the courtroom came up and congratulated them. 

It was the third weekend in June when Peter was officially moved in. The paperwork had gone through and he had moved his belongings from Mr. Harrington’s apartment and the abandoned water treatment facility back to his room at the tower. It was a little sad to leave Mr. Harrington and Ms. Sarr, but they said that he was welcome over anytime and Mr. Harrington reminded him that they’d see each other in the oncoming school year. 

For their first Saturday together, it was decided that they would drive upstate to meet with Mr. James’ family. Mr. Stark drove the car as he bickered with Mr. James while Pepper sat in the back seat with Peter and typed away on her Stark Pad. It was fun listening to the two of them play fight with each other. Most people Peter heard his mentor interacting with were spoken to with annoyance and disregard, but it was obvious they were best friends. “I’m just saying platypus, we could paint your suit gold with red accents. We could match, it’d definitely boost your image,” Mr. Stark said. 

“Please, all it would do is lower my image. And it would stir up those rumors that we’re actually a couple by giving us matching suits,” Mr. James said back. “What do you think Pete?”

“I think you two already act like a married couple, so you might as well go for it, Mr. James. I think reverse Iron Man colors would look cool,” Peter responded. 

Mr. James groaned, and Mr. Stark made a noise of triumph. “See, I told you. And he’s the demographic you want to appeal to.”

“That’s no fair, of course he’d side with you. You’re the one who feeds him,” Mr. James said. 

Mr. Stark laughed and then said, “the kid just has the common sense to know that I’m right. You’d have to fight Pepper to have my hand in marriage though, and I don’t think she would go down easy.”  

“He can have you.” Pepper didn’t even look up from her Stark Pad as she spoke. “It’d save me some time and energy not having to manage you all day.”    

This time Mr. James laughed at his expense and Peter joined in. “Wow, listen to this. Beaten down and given away by my own family. Truly this is cruel. Looks like I only have Karen and Friday left to back me up.”

“I believe I would go to Lady Boss in the event of a separation, Boss,” Friday said through the speaker. 

“And I’m only here for Peter, you’re on your own,” Karen said afterwards. 

The whole car laughed again, even Pepper. “Like I said, betrayed by my own family.”

This is so nice. I wonder if this is what normal families do. “You know Pete, you don’t need to call me Mr. James, it sounds so formal. You can call me Rhodey or Rhodes like everyone else. Or even Uncle if you want,” Mr. James said. 

Oh boy. I don’t know how to feel about this. It’d feel weird to not address him formally, but I already call Pepper by a nickname. But she’s kind of like a stepmom and literally everyone calls her Pepper. “Um, okay, Uncle Rhodey.” The name still felt weird on his tongue, but it was a good weird. To have the word uncle actually mean the word uncle. For the longest time it was part of Ben’s title that meant ‘dad’ more than a close relative. 

At his new name, Uncle Rhodey turned around in his seat, reached back, and ruffled Peter’s hair. Yeah, I think this is what normal families do.

“Oh, he gets to be called his preferred name, but I’m still Mr. Stark? You playing favorites, kid?” 

“Yep,” Peter said popping the ‘p’ at the end, “maybe if you asked in the courtroom, I would have considered changing it, but it’s stuck now.” Like a title. 

“I guess I’ll have to wait until the next overly emotional moment before asking again. Next time, I will remember,” Mr. Stark vowed. Then he and Uncle Rhodey went back to arguing about suit colors and how to confront the man who was dating Mrs. Rhodes in the future. It was a long trip in the car, a few hours, but it was cool to see the changing landscape from concrete jungle to suburban. During the time, Peter also had his phone and his knitting to keep him occupied. I’m getting better at this. I’ll have to make a new hat for Mr. Stark soon. And one for Pepper. And Uncle Rhodey. And everyone else. I need to make a lot of hats.  

They arrived at a nice one-story home with a perfectly manicured exterior. There was a large oak tree in the front with a rope tire swing and flowerbeds under the windows. On the small porch was a rocking chair and a hanging rope chair swing. In the rocking chair, going back and forth, there was an elderly woman who analyzed them when they got out of the car. She had cropped wavy black hair that was turning white and was in very good shape. Muscular and powerful. 

Peter stayed behind Mr. Stark and Pepper as they walked up the path to the woman and her gaze landed on him, even as he tried to duck further behind his guardians. Just make yourself look small. Mr. Stark and Pepper will introduce you and they’ll get along with their visit and you’ll fade into the background. Just relax. 

The woman stepped off her porch and met them on the ground. Uncle Rhodey went to speak first, “hey mom, it’s nice to see you so soo-”

“I’ll speak to you in a minute,” Mrs. Rhodes said as she came closer to the Starks. “Now Anthony, it’s nice that you’ve finally brought my newest grandson here so I could meet him.”

Grandson?

“You know, you could always come and visit us,” Mr. Stark said. 

“And put miles on my car? And nice to see you finally pulled your head out of your ass and got back together with Pepper, not that you told me directly,” Mrs. Rhodes said with hands on her hips. 

“Hey, I called you the day after that press conference!”

“Not soon enough. But congratulations on the engagement, dear, it was a long time coming,” Mrs. Rhodes said to Pepper and then her gaze went back to Peter. “Now step aside.”

When they did, Peter was left out in the open. Stay calm. He slouched further and took a small step back as Mrs. Rhodes extended her hand. Mr. Stark and Uncle Rhodey love her. She’s probably awesome. She looks awesome. You can do this. 

“I heard you might be a bit skittish around new people, so we don’t have to hug yet if it makes you uncomfortable, soldier.” Her grip was firm, but not crushing to the point it hurt his hand.

“Thank you,” Peter said timidly. “And, um, my name is Peter, by the way. Peter Parker.”

“Nice to have you in the family.” She turned back to her sons. “Now let’s get inside before the bugs start to swarm.

The next bit of the visit was a lot of fun and it reminded Peter of the car ride over. It was mostly the adults talking and catching up until Uncle Rhodey’s sister--I guess that makes her my Aunt?--came with her husband and kids. Then Peter had the job of babysitting his new cousins, something he enjoyed immensely. 

While the adults chatted inside, they went outside to the backyard. There was a lot of running around playing tag, sword fighting (with plastic swords), carrying them on his back, lawn games, and more. I love grass. Grass should be everywhere. By the time they were called in for dinner, he had been smiling for hours and his clothes were stained, and his hair was tussled. Little kids are a lot of fun, but they sure are tiring. 

“Have a good time out there, Pete?” Mr. Stark asked as they sat down.

“Yep,” Peter answered. He took a modest amount of food, for him at least, around the same as Mr. Stark. 

As Mrs. Rhodes finished putting the last dish on the table, she placed more food onto Peter’s plate. “Anthony was the same type of scrawny you are when he first came into my home. I intend to bulk you up the same way I did him,” she said as she piled on the food. Eventually, it was almost to the point of what Peter normally ate at home. 

“Yeah, you’re the reason why I gained the freshman fifteen,” Mr. Stark said as he also slid a few more pieces of chicken onto Peter’s plate. 

“More like freshman thirty,” Uncle Rhodey muttered. 

The muttering was loud enough for Mr. Stark to hear which caused another round of friendly arguing. Conversation flowed easily into stories of them in their college days, and Peter learned that both Uncle Rhodey’s sister and Mrs. Rhodes went to MIT as well. But unlike her children, Mrs. Rhodes attended college while she was in the military. That led to interesting stories about her time in the war over dessert. 

“What about you, soldier? I’m sure you’ve already thought about which college you’d like to attend,” Mrs. Rhodes said. She shook a can of whipped cream and put some on top of her pie and slapped Uncle Rhodey’s hand away when he went to grab it from her. 

“Yes, I um, think I want to try to get into MIT, like you guys,” Peter said. 

“Try to get in?” Mrs. Rhodes huffed. “You will get in. Universities love alumni’s children, especially if they are multigenerational. And Anthony tells me you go to a very well-respected school and get very good grades.” She put about half a pie on a plate, covered it with whipped cream, and handed it over to Peter. 

It was store bought, but pie and whipped cream with a side of compliments was always delicious. “Thank you, ma’am,” Peter said quietly. Did they tell me about my metabolism, or does she just want to feed me until I explode? 

“Nonsense, you should be proud of yourself. And I appreciate the manners, soldier. Pepper must be a good influence on you.” She said the last part directed at Mr. Stark who pouted as he ate his pie. 

They had to leave after dinner to make it back to the tower (and drop Uncle Rhodey off) at a reasonable time. Mrs. Rhodes gave each of the adults a quick hug as they were going out the door and extended her hand to Peter to shake. “It was very nice to meet you, Peter Parker. And I hope to see you more often than just holidays.”

Peter nodded, shook her hand, and took a deep breath. It’s okay you can do this. Slowly, he allowed the older women to pull him into a hug. It was warm and comforting. Look at me. Hugging outside of a major emotional episode. I’m already getting better at this. “I can’t wait to see you again too, Grandma.”

The hug got tighter for a moment before she pulled away. They said their final goodbyes, and Peter exchanged his number with little cousins so they could send each other memes. He waved to his new family as they pulled away from the little suburban home and began to knit again. The car ride back became much of the same with Pepper working and Mr. Stark and Uncle Rhodey bantering back and forth.  

“Did you enjoy the day out, Pete?” Mr. Stark asked after pausing his fight with Uncle Rhodey. His tone was light, but it was obvious the question had more weight to it. His eyes continued to flicker from the road to the rear-view mirror so he could see Peter’s face. 

“Yeah, it was really nice,” Peter said truthfully. He kept knitting as he looked up to meet Mr. Stark’s eyes. “I’ve never had a grandparent or cousins before.” 

Mr. Stark’s hands tightened on the steering wheel. “Just wait until you meet Pepper’s side of the family.”

“Why Tony, are you willingly saying we’re going to visit my parents soon?” Pepper asked playfully. “Never thought I’d hear that. I should give them a call when we get back to set up a date.”    

“Back up now Pepper my love, I didn’t say that,” Mr. Stark said quickly.

“I think you did,” Uncle Rhodey cut in. The conversation devolved again, and at the end Mr. Stark conceded that they would have to visit Pepper’s parents within the next month. 

I’m not sure what it’s like in a normal family but this feels right for this family.    

An interesting quirk of Mr. Stark’s that Peter noticed over the time he’d been living with him was that the man rarely knew what day of the week it was. Once when he asked about it, Mr. Stark shrugged his shoulders and said, “I have people to know that for me. You only really need to know the number of the day in a month anyway.”  

I guess when you have people planning your days for you or you binge being in one place for hours at a time it really doesn’t matter what day of the week it is. As a person who lived by the days of the week because of school, lab time, cage wrestling, and Spidermanning, it was slightly baffling but today it worked out to his favor. Peter even woke up early to ask Pepper, Friday, and Karen to not tell Mr. Stark that it was the third Sunday in June. 

When he asked Pepper, she placed a hand over her heart and looked at him as if he were a really cute puppy. “If you think that’s for the best, honey,” she said. 

The three of them were able to eat breakfast together, despite Mr. Stark’s usual evasion of early mornings. Him and Pepper were flipping pancakes and had coffee brewing when Mr. Stark finally stumbled to the table. They had an enjoyable breakfast and Mr. Stark whined when Pepper told him that he needed to do work today. “But Pep, I wanted to work in the lab with the kid before the meeting.”

“You can do that after. I’m sure Peter can find something else to do in the meantime,” Pepper responded.

“Are you kidding? I’m Iron Man, of course he wants to spend all his time with me.”

“Nothing is as fun as spending time with you, Mr. Stark,” Peter agreed. 

Mr. Stark actually appeared surprised by Peter’s agreement and then his face broke out into a wide smile and even Pepper’s face softened a bit. “Are you really going to force me to go to work after hearing that? During the kid’s first official weekend here?”

“Yes, I am. Finish this cup of coffee so you can get a fresh one and meet me in your office,” Pepper ordered. She collected her things and disappeared down the hall. 

Ugh, I have a feeling if they’re going to be alone together in the office, I might want to be out of the tower anyway. 

“No need for the grimace, kid. My AA meeting was canceled today so everyone could spend time with their families. Not sure what makes today more special than any other, but hey, a day off is a day off,” Mr. Stark said with a shrug. “We’ll be in the lab in a few hours.” 

“I think I’m going to go out Spidermanning for a bit,” Peter said as he finished cleaning up from breakfast. 

“Alright kiddo. I’ll call you if we finish and you’re not here. Don’t go and find trouble,” Mr. Stark said. 

“Trouble? Me?” Peter said with feigned innocence. He quickly changed into his (now fixed) Spiderman suit and stood on the rail of the balcony. He waved to Mr. Stark and then fell backwards letting gravity and air resistance cradle him on the way down. He only caught himself a few feet from the ground which startled people on the street. I love doing that. 

It wasn’t the first time he’d been out as Spiderman since the night of the dance, but it had been put on the backburner somewhat. It was partially because of his injuries and also because of all the family drama. The handful of times he was able to get out in the suit it was to visit Mac and Felicia and to stop a couple crimes here and there. People online thought he was taking a break or recovering from injuries, which he chose not to comment on.

A lot of people waved, pointed, and cheered when they saw him swing through the city. And because of the holiday, Peter took more photo requests than usual for dads and their kids. He felt free as he flew through the air and spent hours around the city just performing his good deeds. Never thought I’d long to get out from under a nice roof. It was past normal lunch time when he decided to stop Spidermanning and head back to the tower for a snack before dinner. 

After a quick raid of the kitchen, Peter crawled into his room to get his gift ready. May also crawled out of her new enclosure to observe what he was doing. “Hello May,” Peter greeted, “want to see what I’m up to?”

She was growing steadily, so Peter had rehoused her as soon as he got the opportunity to. She was still considered a juvenile due to her size and coloring, but he was proud of her development. May jumped out of her container, landed on his lap, and tapped the wrapped package with one of her feet. 

“Yep, it’s a gift for Mr. Stark because it’s a special day.” 

May made her way to the top of the box and sat herself on top of it as if saying ‘pay attention to me.’

“Yes, I know, you’re very cute.” Very gently, he stroked her abdomen with his finger. Once he was done, she went back to her home like usual. Peter tried to offer her a cricket to eat, but she refused and went further into her nest. Looks like she’s going to be molting. I better watch her closely. I don’t want to miss another one.     

“Karen, are Mr. Stark and Pepper still working in the office?” Peter asked as he made his way to the lab. 

“They are still in his office,” Karen answered neutrally. 

But not working? Are they really...gross. I’m so glad that room is soundproof. I really need to make myself a pair of earbuds. He recognized that they were a happy adult couple who probably did adult things, but he wanted to know about zero percent of it. “Friday, can you let me in the lab?”

“I’m sorry Peter, but you’re not supposed to be in the lab without Boss present or his express permission,” Friday said. 

“C’mon, I’m not going in there to do any experiments. I just need to hide this gift.”

“Rules are rules, Mini Boss.”

Peter felt his face flush at the moniker. “Pleeeaaasseeee? I don’t want to give it to him when Pepper is sitting right there. It’d be too awkward. I promise, I’ll just be in and out.”

“Make it quick.”

And he did. He placed the gift in a cabinet and hesitated before leaving. “Are they done yet?” He didn’t mean for it to come off whiney, but even to his own ears it sounded that way. 

“Boss and Lady Boss have just finished their activities, yes,” Friday said with a little laughter in her voice. 

“I hope you mean board meetings and paperwork. If not, gross.” I remember when Karen started sounding like that. Peter climbed on the walls and ceiling to discreetly make his way back to the living area and make it seem as though he was just in his mass of webbing the whole time. 

They don’t look any different from when they went in the office, only more tired and stressed out. Karen and Friday must have been messing with me. Peter landed behind them, and they didn’t startle. 

“Hey Pete, we’re just going to have a quick snack and then we’re going to head down to the lab,” Mr. Stark said. He tried to sound casual, but there was something off about his tone. Even Pepper seemed like she was acting happy rather than feeling happy.

Must have been a really bad business deal. His guardians tried to keep the mood light, but it only put him on edge. The vibe persisted when he and Mr. Stark was in the lab and Peter tried to calm himself down, especially since his spider sense wasn’t going off or anything. The task of the day was to make more improvements on the tidal energy buoy so they could test it in their newly constructed wave machine. “Peter, can you grab some extra wiring and casing? We might need to reinforce it just in case it jostles in the waves.”

Perfect opportunity! Excitement shot through his body and it took every ounce of self-control to not do any flips or cartwheels across the room. He grabbed the wire, the casing, and his gift and placed them on the table in front of his mentor. “Here you go Mr. Stark.”

“Glad you remembered where this stuff was,” Mr. Stark said as he still tinkered with the inside of the machine. “Pay attention to this because it’s easy to screw up-what is that?” He used a screwdriver to point to the box wrapped in spider themed wrapping paper. 

“It’s for you. A gift for, you know, today,” Peter answered evasively. He pushed the box lightly so it moved another few inches towards his mentor.  

Mr. Stark blinked and carefully opened the gift and took out a coffee mug that simply said #2 Avenger in blocky black text. He visibly swallowed and hands tightened around the mug and at the same time, Peter could hear his heartbeat pick up. 

“I wasn’t trying to be rude or anything, but you know, Thor. And if you count Pepper, you’d be knocked down to number three. Maybe behind the Black Widow too,” Peter joked. His mentor remained silent and kept staring down at the mug. Oh no, this is bad. I did something stupid. “You know, maybe a mug like that isn’t your style. Would really kill the feng shui of your cabinets. I think I should just take it back.” Peter reached out to take the cup, but Mr. Stark placed it just out of reach. 

“I need to talk to you about something,” Mr. Stark said.

Those words are never not worrying. “I’m so sorry about the mug, I really didn’t mean to offend you. I swear I didn-”

“It’s not about the mug, I actually needed a new one. But I will call you a little shit for calling me the number two Avenger again. Behind Pep? Absolutely. Point Break? No way,” Mr. Stark said with a tired smile. “I need to talk to you about the Avengers and the fact that we’re reforming.”

“Reforming? After the Civil War stuff?” Peter asked worriedly. “I never, um, thought that’d be an option.”

“Still can’t believe the media dubbed it that. Anyway, the powers above us want us to reform and be a team again. Spread goodness and fight evil and all that.” 

Peter tilted his head. “What’s going to happen? Are they going to move back here? In the tower?”

“No. They are going to be isolated at the Avengers compound upstate, so they don’t get into any trouble and so the media doesn’t sniff them out yet. But they want me to go with them.”

Peter looked down and started to rub his arm absentmindedly. “So I won’t see you for a long time?” Wow. This didn’t even last a whole week. And we’re already going to have to say goodbye. 

“No, no. I’ll have to be there for meetings, team bonding, and missions, probably. But I’m negotiating to come back here on weekends and there is nothing that says I can’t bring my favorite intern with me,” Mr. Stark reassured. 

“Really?! That’d be so cool! Would I be able to meet the team Iron Man Avengers?” I can’t wait to tell Ned! He’s going to be so jealous! 

“Don’t go that far yet, kiddo. You’re only coming along if I think it’s safe enough to be there and you’d be confined to the lab parts of the compound. And don’t think you’ll be able to go wild when I’m not here either, you better believe that Pepper is going to keep a close eye on you.”

I didn’t even think about that! Maybe Pepper will let me do more dangerous stuff. “This is going to be the coolest summer ever,” Peter said. 

“Ugh, don’t look so happy, kid. I can already feel the grey hairs coming in,” Mr. Stark said with fake exasperation. “But you’re not scared or concerned about any of this, right? It’s...okay if you are.”

“A little, I guess. But it’s not like you’re going away forever. And you and the Avengers are working things out, which is like, the coolest thing ever.” Peter shrugged and gave his mentor a smirk and pointed at the open panel of the buoy. “I think your eyes are starting to go, old man, the wiring in this is wrong.”

“I’m not old and no it’s not.” Mr. Stark squinted his eyes and focused inside the metal casing. “Shit. Good catch, Petey.” They fixed the problem and when they were done, Mr. Stark ruffled his hair. 

Peter didn’t want to get too ahead of himself, but he was very excited for the future. It was summer vacation, and he didn’t have to worry about the stress of school for a few months and unlike last summer he’d have a family and a nice place to live to spend it. Not only that, but both Mr. Stark and Pepper said that he could have his friends over the tower! Ned would probably faint and even MJ would have to be impressed. Him and Felicia would finally have their promised dinners. And he had his suit back and just...so many things. There were so many things to look forward to. 

It wasn’t just a day-to-day game of survival anymore. 

The light and excited feeling in his chest tried to grow further with the idea of meeting the Avengers. The little kid in him would be excited regardless of the situation, but Mr. Stark’s wariness of his old superhero family stopped him from becoming an over-the-top fanboy. The summer was certainly going to bring a lot of changes to his life, but he was ready to face them head on. 

After all, Peter had a real knack for adaptation.