Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Wilbur had gone through so much in his life. So, so much. From metal shrapnel constantly threatening his life, to being tortured by the very people he trusted most. He had faced PTSD, aliens invading earth, and nearly being lost in the cold vacuum of space. He had been mentally crushed and been through his fair share of addictions to cope.

But none of it. Not a single thing. Compared to the day he lost his son.

Theseus had only been a newborn, not even a year old, and he was stripped from him. Taken.

That was the worst day of his life. The day that sent him spiraling into paranoia and a various list of other mental illnesses.

Him and Sally had kept their little Thee-Thee out of the public eye. Had kept their little family a small secret from the rest of the world. But it hadn’t been enough.

Wilbur failed. The only reason he was still going was because they never found his body. His starship, his sunshine, could still be out there. Being Iron Man was how he coped. Every night, sitting in his lab and staring at maps and records, hoping to find a single trace of his little boy.

He would admit, when he made Ultron, he intended for him to find his Theseus. He hoped that having some kind of— control. Some form of… power… would grant him what he needed to find his son. An all seeing eye. A dome around Earth that would ensure his little one was safe from outside forces wherever he was on earth.

He craved that type of protection. He needed it.

And it backfired horribly, as he really should have expected.

But that was in the past now. And if there was one thing Wilbur learned through all this is that he needed to just keep moving forward. Keep going. Keep trying.

As difficult as that was with the same two words replaying in his head time and time again. Over and over that shrill voice saying the short sentence that forced his heart to stop. Those two words that had never stopped appearing in his nightmares.

‘He’s gone!’

He’s gone. He’s gone. Wilbur’s heart had never started back up. His lungs never filled with another breath since those words had been spoken. His mind had never found peace.

Until.

Wilbur was relaxed on the couch, a large rubik’s cube in his hand as he fidgeted with it. He had recently taken it up as a hobby to get his mind off things, practicing various formulas to get pretty shapes and patterns along the sides.

He wore an old band t-shirt, oil stains all over it with some gym shorts. Sally was sat across from him, laptop on her lap as she typed away. Doing whatever it was she did, probably running his business.

The phone buzzed, Wilbur’s eyes rolling. Now what? Who even had his number anyway?

He considered ignoring it, tongue sticking out as he focused back on his cube.

“Wil. It’s annoying. At least turn it on silent.”

Wilbur scoffed. “It is on silent. Or it should be. Which means…” Wilbur groaned. The only people calling him that would be able to get past his silence were Shield and a few others. Shield had been on his case recently about something or other. Probably wanted him to look into a few rookies. Wilbur didn’t really want to take in any more supers. Well, except one. He’s had his eye on a certain local vigilante. But that was for another time.

Wilbur glanced over at his phone, catching a glimpse of the caller I.D.

His brows furrowed, reaching over and grasping it.

The… police department? Why was the NYPD calling him? Typically, Shield contacted him about any big bad guys that needed a good punch in the face.

Wilbur picked up the phone, bringing it to his ear. “Hello?”

It was then that Wilbur heard three words that changed his life. Three words now replaced the two that had constantly been bouncing in his mind. Just three words was all it took. The three most important words of all time.

“We found him.”

-/-/-/-/-/-

Tommy was having, to put it simply, a horrid day. Now, life as a Taken was already a hard one. Constant bullying, school that barely challenged him, and of course being Spider-Man. Tommy had gotten punched and thrown into his fair share of walls, both as Tommy Taken and as Spider-Man.

But this was just excessive!

Listen, Tommy really hadn’t meant to get caught up in the gang fight! There was just a lot of shouting, then some guns, and then some gunshots, and Tommy couldn't just sit there while civilians were in danger!

But, because Tommy’s life stunk, he of course did not have his costume. Which meant he had to do this as Tommy, not as Spider-Man.

Which was a lot easier said than done because he couldn’t use his funky spider powers in fear of revealing his identity. Luckily, the police had arrived and helped take care of the mess.

Unluckily, Tommy had been part of that very mess!

Which was what brought him here, handcuffs loosely sitting on his bony wrists as he sat in an uncomfortable chair in what appeared to be the interrogation room.

The officers had asked him a couple of questions, and ensured this was mostly for safety, that they didn’t think he had anything to do with this, but it was simply required due to his positioning.

As long as Tommy was released without having to call his grandma, then everything would be fine.

But that seemingly wasn’t happening, because he had been here for hours. Really, how long did it take to get him out of these cuffs?

Tommy groaned, slamming his head into the table. Puffy was going to be so worried about him. He sighed, closing his eyes.

Tommy hoped she didn’t have a heart attack.

-/-/-/-/-/-

We found him. We found him. We found him. We found him.

Wilbur couldn’t breathe. His gut was twisted in knots, mouth dry as he stared at Sally with parted lips. His mouth opened and closed like a fish, eyes wide. The woman’s brows only furrowed, closing her laptop as she began to stand up.

“Who is it? Wil? What’s—“

The phone fell to the couch, slipping right through the man’s fingers. “They found him.”

The laptop smashed to the ground, neither of them caring. Wilbur picked the phone back up, jumping onto his feet as he started wandering towards the elevator.

“Theseus? You found our Theseus? Where is he? Do you—“

“He’s at the station, we’ve got him.”

Wilbur ran a hand through his hair, entire body trembling. “We’ll— we’ll be on our way. Don’t let him go. I want all your men positioned outside that door. Do you hear me? I need—“

A hand landed on his shoulder, Wilbur flinching as he turned around. Sally stared at him, eyes wide but clearly more controlled than he was. “Calm down— They’ve got it. Let’s just… get ready to go.”

Wilbur sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. His baby. His baby was coming home.

It had been so long.

“Thank you, Officer. We’ll be there soon.”

He hung up, clicking the button to the elevator. “Friday. I want you to get some staff up here to set up Theseus’s room. I want it cleaned and polished. He’s— He’s coming home.”

He nearly sobbed, trying to compose himself. Sally gripped his shoulder once more, pulling him away from the elevator.

“What— Sally, we need to—“

She gripped his shirt, hiding the trembling in her hands. “We need— We need to get changed. We’re not meeting our son in… in this. First impressions matter.”

Wilbur let out a shaky breath, gripping her hands. “You’re right. Do I— Do I wear a suit? I don’t—“

She shook her head, squeezing his hands. “No— Too fancy.”

“Then what? I want to make a good first impression—“ Wilbur paused, palm slapping over his mouth as tears welled up in his eyes. “A first impression. I’m making a first impression on our son.”

Sally just hushed him gently, knocking her forehead into his sternum. “I— I know. I know. I know. I’m just going to go get on a dress. Something light and maybe warm colored. You should wear a… a nice sweater. Something soft but nice. I think that’ll do.”

Wilbur nodded, splitting away from her as they separated to go get dressed.

He was actually going to see him. His son.

-/-/-/-/-/-

The trip to the police station had been almost entirely silent, both of them holding their breaths.

Where had Theseus been all these years? Was he hurt? Tortured? Did he grow to look more like Wilbur or Sally? Would he even know he was taken?

Did he even know they were coming to take him home?

(Would he want to come with them?)

No words were spoken between them, but their hands interlocked the entire time. A silent comfort exchanged with each trembling squeeze.

In what felt like an eternity and no time at all, they made it to the police station. Wilbur ripped his seatbelt off, throwing his door open and marching up the steps. Sally’s heels clacked beside him, the two storming into the station.

An officer stepped in front, introducing himself. “My name is Marvin, I’m the one who called you.”

Wilbur shook his hand, nodding. “I recognized the voice. You have my son?” Wilbur didn’t mean to be rude, but he didn’t feel the need to go through pleasantries when his son was somewhere in this building.

Marvin nodded. “Come with me.”

The officer walked the two of them into the back, leading them down a large room full of computers. Marvin grabbed some paperwork, handing it to Wilbur.

The billionaire took it, inspecting it. It was a DNA report.

“Thomas Taken. DNA match: 100%.”

Wilbur clutched the papers tightly before handing them off to Sally. She quickly stuck them in her purse for safe keeping.

Their son was here. Their son.

Marvin gave them an understanding smile laced with empathy. “I’ll take you back to the room, and we’ll have a small chat just before you go in to meet him.”

The two nodded, Sally reaching her hand out and Wilbur quickly taking it. They walked past a few more rooms, weaving through halls before stopping at an interrogation room. The door creaked as Marvin pressed it open, revealing a small room with a window along the wall. Wilbur sucked in a breath, taking a cautious step forward before practically throwing himself at the window.

He felt like a kid at a candy shop, glancing through the window at all the treats.

But this was even better. Because Wilbur saw him. His son. His Theseus.

His little boy had his arms cross on the table, head down and tucked into his elbow. Blond hair sprouted from his head, flopping over some of his arm.

The thud of Wilbur on the glass seemed to have disturbed him, the boy glancing up from where he had been tucked into his arm.

Pure awe filled the man, curling and twisting in his gut.

Because that was him. That was his baby boy. He knew it. Those striking blue eyes, that same wrinkle in his nose as the boy confusedly stared at the one-way window. That was his son.

“He— he looks just like you,” Sally said, seemingly thinking just the same as he was.

Wilbur wanted nothing more in this moment than to rush in and scoop the boy into a hug. To fly them all out to some remote bunker under layers of protection, keeping them safely hidden from every possible threat.

He knew that wasn’t realistic. But he desired it so. To protect his baby boy from every single possible harm. To just hold him and whisper sweet nothings into his ear as he rocked him to sleep.

Safely tucked away in his arms.

“So, let me explain a few things first,” Marvin said, interrupting them.

Wilbur wanted him to hurry up. He needed to go inside. He needed to— to— Wilbur didn’t even know! A part of him wanted to freeze it here, stuck outside the door. Frozen in this moment.

Another wanted nothing more than to bring Theseus home.

Marvin smiled at the two, taking a breath as he began. “Alright, so. Thomas was brought in for a bit of gang violence—“

“He’s in a gang?!” Wilbur squawked, pausing to think.

Of course his son joined a gang. Wilbur nearly started to cackle. Oh he was so grounding him— Could he do that now?

Wilbur didn’t know. He just knew that that behavior was not continuing.

“No— At least we do not believe so. There had been a lot of commotion and confusion and we just took in everyone involved. From his own report as well as several other witnesses, he had nothing to do with the gang itself. He had just gotten caught up in the fight and tried to help the citizens get out.”

Oh good. Wilbur didn’t want to have that conversation with him. Wait… He had been in a gang fight?

“Is he hurt? Did he get injured? Do we need to take him to the infirmary?”

Marvin waved his hand. “No, no. Kid was fine, actually. Not a bruise in sight which was crazy. He did help a lot of people though, he’s a good kid.”

Sally squeezed his hand, the two smiling.

That’s their boy. 

“We kept him here and ran the test due to his age and appearance, and it came back as a match. So, we called you. But you do have to know a few things… He has a grandma that he lives with, and he doesn’t know that he’s a missing person.”

Wilbur grit his teeth, flame lighting in his irises. “Who is this grandma? Do we know if she had anything to do with this?”

The officer shook his head. “We’ve called her in for some more questioning, but Thomas himself spoke nothing but highly of her. We’ve already begun our search into ‘Thomas Taken.’”

Wilbur nodded, bringing his phone up to his face. “Friday?”

‘Yes, boss?’

“I want you to start looking into Thomas Taken. I want every bit of information you can get compiled for me.”

‘On it.’

The phone beeped, and Wilbur pocketed the device.

“Now, you said he didn’t know he was a missing person? Does he know now…?”

Marvin shook his head. “I was going to step in and have just a quick chat with him, then bring you two in so we don’t overwhelm him.”

Wilbur nodded, tightening his grip on his wife’s hand as they watched the officer step inside the room.

-/-/-/-/-/-

Tommy was bored. He had been here for hours. He really needed to pee, actually, but no one’s even been in the room for him to ask.

He was starting to get a little nervous. What was taking so long if they knew he was innocent? Tommy sighed, jumping when he heard something tap against the glass. He glanced up, squinting at the one-way window.

Obviously, he couldn’t see anything. But he could sense someone was looking at him. Was Marvin back? Was he finally going to get out of here?

After a few more minutes, the door opened with a loud click. It thunked closed behind the officer, Marvin giving him a warm smile.

“Hey, kiddo. Let’s get you out of those cuffs.”

Finally. It was getting to the point he was considering breaking them himself.

Tommy raised his wrists, watching as the officer fiddled with his keys. Then, sweet relief. Tommy rubbed at his wrists as Marvin tucked the cuffs away in his belt.

“Thank you, Officer. Am I free to go now?” Tommy asked, already preparing to stand up.

He hoped Puffy didn’t notice his lack of texts. Typically, he just messaged her when he got home from school when she worked night shifts. Hopefully she was just too busy and didn’t notice.

“Well, you are free to go as in there’s no charges pressed against you and we see no reason to continue holding you here under the pretenses of your initial arrest.”

That sounded like a but type of sentence. Please don’t be a but type of sentence.

“But—“

Tommy groaned internally.

“We do have something else we need to discuss with you.”

Tommy’s gut twisted. As much as he wanted to get out of here, the potential reasons this officer may want to keep him here did not go over his head. He was Spider-Man. What if they found out? How would they have found out?

Tommy didn’t use his powers or anything during the fight. Or at least, he didn’t think he did! What if he messed up?

What if they found out?

Would they take him to jail? Would he be forced to stop? What if they told grandma Puffy. Tommy was going to throw up.

She can’t know, she’s going to freak.

“Calm down, just take some deep breaths. You didn’t do anything.”

They know. They know. 

Tommy forced himself to take a deep breath, ignoring how shaky it was. Now, be rational Tommy. This could be something entirely different. Maybe they’re just letting him know he needs to be a witness for a later trial! Yeah! That’s it.

Nothing about Spider-man.

“It’s alright, kid. Now, I’m going to tell you something that’s going to be a bit of a shock. It’s alright if you struggle at all, and we’re here just to help out, okay? Now listen closely.”

This was having the exact opposite effect the officer wanted. It was making him only more nervous.

Spit it out already.

“Due to your age, we ran a DNA test on you.”

Tommy paled. A DNA test? That couldn’t be good, could it? Could they somehow find out about his nightly escapades?

“This is standard procedure for anyone who’s of similar age or build to a missing persons case.”

Missing persons case? Tommy’s brows furrowed. What did that have to do with anything?

“We put your DNA up to our provided list and… It was a match.”

Tommy’s brain short circuited. It was… a match? What did that mean? Tommy wasn’t— He wasn’t a missing person. He had a home, and a family, and he went to school and had friends.

Tommy tried to say all that, but the only thing that came out of his mouth was a shaky, “huh?”

Marvin gave him a sad smile. “You’re a 100% match for someone who’s been missing for 15 years.”

Tommy shot out of his chair, his seat flying back with the force as he slammed his hands on the table. “You—you ran the test wrong! You’ve got the wrong kid! I’m not— I’m not a missing person! I’ve got a great grandma who—“

Puffy. Oh, no. Oh no no no no.

Puffy didn’t— Puffy didn’t kidnap him. Were they going to hunt her down?!? WERE THEY GOING TO ARREST HER?!

“Puffy would never hurt me! You leave her alone!” Tommy shouted, tears welling up in his eyes.

They had it all wrong. He wasn’t a missing kid. How could he be? Puffy raised him. She loved him after his Dad died. His deadbeat Dad who practically starved him. At least, that’s what Puffy said.

The officer raised his hands, once again offering a sympathetic smile. “I understand your frustration. We did have to call her in and she’s being escorted to the station for questioning.”

“She didn’t do anything!!! She would never hurt me! Please, leave her out of this. Go—go run the test again! You’re wrong.”

Marvin only shook his head slightly. “I believe you, kid. But the match is 100%. Even if she didn’t do anything, we still have to bring her in to try and piece this puzzle together. She might have some more information.”

Tommy wanted to flip the table. He wanted to rush out of this room and run away. This wasn’t real. He wasn’t— He couldn’t—

This wasn’t real.

Tommy huffed, falling back into his chair as tears welled in his eyes.

“I understand this is… shocking, to say the least. But I assure you, we ran the test several times. Each time was the same.”

Tommy rubbed at his face, sniffling. He sucked the tears back into the tear ducts, not daring to let one fall. This was—- This was okay. Alright. Yeah. Okay.

He was a missing person. He had been missing for 15 years. So, he was taken when he was one. Puffy had him when he was 5, which meant his Dad wasn’t actually his Dad.

Dream had to have stolen him. Oh, that’s going to break Puffy’s heart even more. There was already a divide between her and her son— What was Puffy going to think?

Tommy had always been the selfless one. He had always put others before himself to a fault. He knew that, his friends knew that, and he was lucky enough to have a friend that didn’t abuse him for it.

But right now, worrying about Puffy was a lot easier than dealing with whatever jumbled emotions were going through his head right now.

He was a missing person. He had been kidnapped. His Dad isn’t his actual dad. Puffy isn’t his actual grandma. Everything was wrong.

Puffy. Focus on Puffy. That was a lot easier.

“Is— Is Puffy here yet?” Tommy asked, fiddling with his fingers.

“Not yet. She’ll be here in about half an hour, most likely.”

Tommy slumped into his chair. “O—okay. Alright. Cool. Can I go talk to her when she gets here? She’s going to be really worried about me and confused and— Can I see her? Please?”

He just really wanted a hug right now. Maybe a soft kiss to the forehead. Or for her to pinch his cheeks. Or just—

He whined. He really wanted his grandma. Forgive him for being a bit overwhelmed and childish. He didn’t feel so strong right now, even if he could break this table in half by accident.

“You’ll be able to see her at some point. But— not right now.”

Tommy sighed, flopping onto his arms.

“There’s other people who’d like to meet you first.”

Tommy raised his head, eyes wide. “Huh? Who?”

The officer reached out, patting his hand awkwardly. “Your parents.”

Tommy’s world froze, eyes trailing up to the glass. He couldn’t see behind it, but he knew.

There were people watching him. His parents. His actual parents.

Tommy quickly looked away from the glass, face flushing red. They’re just staring at him aren’t they? He can’t even see them—

How much did they hear? How long have they been watching him?

How—

Tommy gulped. How long had they been looking for him? 15 years. That's what the officer said. That he had been missing for 15 years. Would they even… like him? Do they still want him?

He wasn’t a baby anymore. He was raised by someone else. He probably was someone completely different than what they wanted.

Tommy rubbed his face, chuckling humorlessly to himself. Oh, great. Insecurity already on the rise. Let’s get this straight.

His dad allegedly kidnapped him and didn’t tell Puffy about it, Puffy then raised him, he got bit by some radioactive spider and became a superhero, got caught up in gang violence, and now he was in the police station, being told that his real parents were behind the glass and wanted to meet him.

Not only that but also… Puffy was going to be interrogated by the police. Tommy was practically an adult at this point. His anxiety was practically preening at all the insecurities he could drag up. Honestly, it felt like his own brain loved to make him suffer.

And right now it was a buffet. His head was so loud.

“I can give you a few minutes before they come in, if that would help?”

“Please.” Tommy wanted to stall this as much as possible. He would really rather not have a mental breakdown in front of his new— old? Uh… his biological parents.

Even if they’re probably staring at him right now. Tommy shivered, biting back the instinct to look at the glass.

“Could I uh—“ Tommy’s mouth was dry. “Could I get some water? Please?”

The officer smiled, nodding. “Of course. I’ll be back in a few minutes.” Marvin left the room, and Tommy was suddenly alone with his thoughts.

Well, not really alone. It was really hard to shake the feeling of eyes on him. He did his best to block out the feeling, focusing only on his breathing.

Okay. Okay, cool. He was going to meet his biological parents. They were in the room next door. They waited to meet him for 15 years. Yeah. Chill. This is fine. Great, even. Wow, Tommy was handling this so well.

If you ignored the overwhelmed watery eyes.

He huffed, grabbing the water bottle from the officer and chugging it. Great, now he was going to need to pee even more before he left.

…

What happened after this?

Surely, they would just come say hi, it would be awkward, and then he’d go home. Right?

Or… or no. Because they waited for him for 15 years. They’re probably going to want to take him back to their home. Would they even have a room set up? Maybe not.

Probably not, they would have renovated it by now and made it into something else. So he’d go home to his house. Yeah.

Tommy groaned, hitting his head on the table.

This was all so confusing. What was he supposed to even think? What was he supposed to feel?

Happiness? Fear? Confusion? Anger? All of the above?

Tommy didn’t know it was possible to feel so many emotions all at once. He knew he probably should be happy— He was seeing his family after all. But all he could feel was some massive knot of emotions in his gut that was so heavy he couldn’t decipher a single one.

He just didn’t want to be a disappointment, he supposed. He knew he probably would be. They probably wanted him to be as happy as they would be. Tommy knew he wasn’t going to be able to perform. He was going to be stuck like this. Confused, a little angry, incredibly scared, and alone.

He felt so alone.

The door opened, the officer smiling at him with that exact same sympathy. “It’s time.”

Tommy took a deep breath. Right. Okay. He could do this. Whatever this was.

The door fully opened and the officer stepped aside. Footsteps echoed through the room, the sound of heavy shoes and clacking heels.

Then—

Then he saw them.

A man. A very tall man with brunet curls and dark oak irises. He was wearing what appeared to be a brand of sweater Tommy could never hope to afford. The woman next to him was hugging his arm, a nice dark green dress swaying with each step they took towards the table. Her eyes were a bright blue, just like Tommy’s.

Both of their eyes shone with hesitance and yet a deep sense of want. Their faces pinched in something switching between awe and glee and then concern all at once.

They looked like how Tommy felt.

But there was a small problem with this situation.

Silence fell between them as they took their seats across from him, the three only staring.

Then, Tommy threw his head back. A loud cackle filled the room, Tommy’s chair nearly falling back. He quickly caught himself on the table, ignoring the outstretched hand of the man prepared to catch him.

Their brows were squished together, lips pursed in utter confusion at his laugh.

Tommy just wiped at his eyes, giggling. “Oh. Oh, you really got me there for a second! That was a good one. I’ll admit, you had me fooled.”

The pair in front of him glanced at each other, then back at him.

“What do you mean?” The man asked softly.

Tommy just leveled them with a bored look. “Uh-huh. You’re not gonna trick me again.” The boy then started looking around the room, checking under the tables and chairs the best he could from where he sat. He looked at the officer in the doorway. “Where are the cameras? You recording this from your body cam? Listen. I get this is funny for you but I really should be getting home now.”

Tommy stood up, the man in front of him jumping out of his seat as well. The chairs screeched with their movement. His eyes were wide, bouncing across Tommy’s face as his hand was stuck out towards Tommy. As if he was going to try and stop him.

The woman was gripping the brunet’s other wrist, keeping him from running off towards Tommy. Her eyes were just as blown wide, mouth opening and closing like she wanted to say something but didn’t.

The officer’s brows only punched together. “Tommy— This isn’t a trick. Those are your biological parents.”

Tommy rolled his eyes, flopping back down in the chair. Clearly he wasn’t getting out of this weird prank anytime soon. He was starting to get angry though. This wasn’t funny. Not to him. He just wanted to go home.

The woman pulled her husband back down, forcing the man to settle back in his chair as well.

“Yeah right.” Tommy gestured towards the man wildly. “You want me to believe that he’s my father? That’s Wilbur Stark. I may not be the smartest person in the world but I’m not that incompetent.” Tommy pushed back with his feet, rocking his chair back and forth. “Besides! Mr. Stark doesn’t have a kid. If he did, the world would know!”

He would know! He was the biggest Wilbur Stark fan in the world. He knew everything about him. From where he went to college down to his favorite restaurant in town. Not to mention, this officer was claiming that Wilbur was his father and that meant Sally was his mother. Sally. The person who ran Stark Industries?

Tommy? Their descendent? Laughable.

He wasn’t sure what type of sick game they were playing but Tommy wasn’t having it. Why did someone as busy as Wilbur and Sally Stark make the time to come and prank some poor random kid that lived with his grandma? Tommy didn’t know. He didn’t care.

Tears filled his eyes. He just wanted to go home.

The two glanced to each other once more, Wilbur speaking in that horribly soft voice, barely above a whisper as he simply stared into Tommy’s eyes.

“We kept you a secret… We had disguises and we just wanted you to have a little bit of normalcy early on. We didn’t— It wasn’t enough. It wasn’t enough.” Wilbur’s voice cracked, Tommy’s mind with it. So much raw emotion pouring from the man in front of him. The slight shine to his eyes as if tears were beginning to form, the shaky rasp and reverent melody.

As if Wilbur could simply break him with the tilt of his tongue. Wilbur could break himself.

“We had…” Wilbur licked his lips, mouth clearly dry. “We had hired a babysitter. A very trusted friend of ours. She took you to the zoo while we were at work. I don’t— I don’t know how they found you. I don’t know how they even knew about you—“ Wilbur took a stuttering breath. “But they took you. We— I— I failed you.”

Tommy’s teeth clicked as his jaw snapped shut, watching as the Wilbur Stark began to cry. The man held a hand over his mouth, turning slightly away from Tommy as tears trailed down his cheeks.

Sally held the other hand, squeezing tightly as she watched her husband with sad eyes.

Tommy didn’t— He didn’t know what to do. Either these two were very good actors or…

Or they were telling the truth.

And they couldn’t be telling the truth. Or maybe— maybe they thought they were. They had the wrong kid. They had to have the wrong kid.

“I’m uh— I’m very sorry. I just don’t think you have the right kid, y’know? Like I’m genuinely so sorry for your loss but it’s not— I’m not— I can’t.”

Wilbur reached forward, grasping his hand. Tommy froze, eyeing it but not pulling away. “You are.” Wilbur said, conviction in his tone. Tommy swallowed, wanting nothing more than to look away from the man but his eyes were locked. Stuck staring at dark brown irises that pulled him in and tore him apart. Wilbur was looking into his very soul and he hated it. “You’re— You’re our son, Theseus. I mean—“ Wilbur glanced over at his wife, the woman mouthing something. “Thomas. Thomas.”

Tommy frowned, his shoulders rising to his ears as he shrunk into himself. Still, Wilbur did not let go of his hand. It was a gentle touch, Tommy could pull away whenever he wanted. But he didn’t want to.

It was grounding. 

“Just… Tommy is fine,” he mumbled, Wilbur smiling at him.

“Tommy. Okay, Tommy. I know this is— a lot. To say the least. But there are no tricks, no pranks, no other motives. We’ve been looking for you for 15 years. And we found you. You’re our son.”

He wasn’t. He couldn’t be. This wasn’t…

Tommy’s shoulders slumped, eyes falling down to his lap. “I’m sorry. I just don’t… I’m sorry.”

He wasn’t entirely sure what he was sorry for. It wasn’t his fault they found the wrong kid. It wasn’t his fault that that their kid got kidnapped and the tests messed up—

Now, deep down he knew how ridiculous he was being. He knew it didn’t make any sense for them to have called up Wilbur Stark without being 100% sure he was his kid. He knew he was in denial.

But right now that’s all he could be. This wasn’t his father holding his hand. This was a stranger. It had to be.

Tommy didn’t know what to do with his emotions if it was his dad.

She picked up her purse, beginning to dig through it. She pulled out some paperwork, holding it out for him. She gave a wobbly smile, and Tommy chose not to point out the way the papers shook in her grasp.

“There. Take a look at those.”

Tommy reluctantly slid his hand out from Wilbur’s, trying to ignore the way the man’s fingers stretched out towards him. Like he just didn’t want to let go.

Tommy grasped the papers, bringing them to his face and beginning to read.

Every word sounded like a gavel striking down. Each sentence was his judgment. An unarguable truth. The jury had decided Tommy’s fate, and he was being read his sentence.

Denial cleared from his mind as he was thrown into the center of the courtroom. There was nowhere for him to hide. No person to hide behind. No excuses left to try and sway the judge. His own mind looked down with pity from upon his throne, and the final gavel struck.

Thomas Taken was Theseus Stark.

Wilbur Stark was his father. Sally Stark was his mother. He had been missing for 15 years. His parents have come to take him home. 

Tears dripped down his cheeks, the sound of paper crumpling in his hands echoing through his mind. Tear drops hit the paper with quiet thunks.

This all was real.

Tommy set the papers down gently, the stares of his parents burning into his skin.

There was too much to feel. Yet he couldn’t feel any of it. The only thing he felt was overwhelmed. Like snakes of emotions slithering into a giant knot. Tommy could only stand by, knowing very well that each second he allowed them to keep moving the more they would knot up together.

But he just couldn’t right now.

Fear of those monstrous fangs sinking into his mind kept him still, not moving an inch towards a solution.

There was only one thing that was clear.

He wanted to go home.

Tommy sniffled, curling his legs up onto the chair. Sally and Wilbur both looked at him with concern, faces pinched in sympathy and pain.

Tommy tucked his face into his knees, ignoring the tears trailing down his face as he spoke softly. “I wanna go home.”

He sounded pathetic. Him, the great Spider-Man who could stop a train, but crumpled under this emotional weight. Tommy would rather a building fall on him than deal with this.

He felt so small.

He wasn’t helpless by any means. He was a smart kid, and he had been in his fair share of fights and emotional turmoil. But this was just… different. This was totally new. Curse his teenage body for being less adept to high stress emotional situations.

Wilbur and Sally looked at each other, then back. Their faces of concern had shifted to something more… happy. Their smiles stretched up their faces, a small amount of teeth showing as their eyes sparkled with joy.

“Yeah— Yeah. We can go home, sunshine,” Wilbur said, letting out a breath.

Oh. Oh that’s— That’s not what Tommy meant.

“Sorry— I meant— Puffy. I want… I want to go home with Puffy,” Tommy quickly corrected, stuttering at the pained expression that took over their face at his words.

They looked to each other again and Tommy wished he understood whatever language they were communicating in with their eyes. Small movements and soul searching let them have whole conversations in moments, putting them on the exact same page.

Wilbur put his hands together, giving yet another strained smile. “Oh, well… We came here with the intention of taking you back home. Our home.”

Of course they’d want to take Tommy to their house. They had been looking for him for 15 years. They were probably itching to get out of this station and take Tommy back with them.

It made sense. Tommy understood them. Oh, he probably hurt them so bad by saying he didn’t want to go with them. Oh, the first thing Tommy did was laugh at the mere thought. How much did his denial hurt them? How deep was that pain with each time Tommy refused to believe?

Tommy hadn’t meant to. It just—

He really didn’t want to go to some house he didn’t know. He needed some familiarity right about now.

Tommy shrunk further into his chair, squeezing his eyes shut.

Sally spoke after a moment of silence. “I know this is a lot, Tommy. However you are feeling right now is valid. This is all a shock, and it’s new, and it’s big. That’s okay. We don’t judge you on how you reacted.”

Tommy hated the way she read his mind. It wasn’t fair how gentle their voices were. It would be so much easier if they just wanted to meet him then leave. But no…

They wanted to be his parents.

Tommy was near breakdown. He knew that. He knew from the way the lump in his throat felt so big that each swallow hurt. He knew from the way his eyes burned and his head began to spin.

They were taking him to their house. What about Puffy? What would happen to them? Were they going to accuse her?

She was innocent.

Tommy wiped at his eyes. “Can— can I at least see Puffy before we leave? Please?”

Just as before, Sally and Wilbur communicated with their eyes. Wilbur seemed to be a lot more hesitant, and Sally seemed more understanding.

After a moment, Wilbur sighed.

“We need to make sure she’s safe first, then we’ll see her, alright? Then we can go home.”

Tommy uncurled, eyes wide as he leaned forward. “She’s safe! She’s safe! She’s the best person I know. She’d neverhurt me.”

Wilbur put his hands up. “Alright. Like I said, we’ll go see how the questioning is going.”

Why wouldn’t they just listen to him?!

He may not have known that he was kidnapped, but he was sure it wasn’t her!

Wilbur stood up, Sally right after him. “Let’s go see where they are.”

Tommy stood up as well, starting his walk out of the room. Before he could even get out of the door, he was flanked by his parents. Wilbur pushed himself close to his left side, Sally on his right.

He wasn’t an animal. He wasn’t going to run away.

…

Okay maybe he could sympathize with their want to keep him between them. He imagined this was hard for them too. He wasn’t sure who in their right mind would try and take him when Iron Man was next to him, but then again someone stole him as a baby so there were some bold people out there.

Tommy did his best not to stare at either of them, trying to not make a scene out of their show of protection. But he couldn’t help but gape up at Wilbur slightly.

Tommy had always been a tall and lanky kid. He was usually the tallest in his classes, even if that meant he was as thin as a toothpick. He towered over most of the other students, especially his friend, Tubbo.

But Wilbur? That man was a freak of nature. He had to bend down to get through the doorways. Tommy knew he was 6 foot and a half, but it was different knowing that and seeing it in person.

They escorted him through the building, meeting up with Marvin once more.

The officer smiled at them, dipping his head in greeting. “Hello, Mr. Stark.”

Wilbur nodded at him, somehow pressing closer to Tommy. His eyes were calculating, and Tommy had to force himself still to not shy away from the man. He looked angry. 

“How did the investigation go?”

Tommy gulped. It was clear Wilbur wasn’t the biggest fan of Puffy. He probably didn’t believe him.

The officer smiled. “Well, both good and bad. We asked a couple of questions to Puffy, and her answers lined up perfectly with the timeline we have based on other police records. From our understanding, Tommy was kidnapped when he was one year old on his birthday.”

His birthday…?

Oh, so that’s why the Starks always disappeared on his birthday! Tommy hadn’t ever put the pieces together before, but now it made sense! They must have taken the day off to grieve.

The room was suddenly silent, Tommy glancing around. Wilbur was blinking at him, tilting his head.

“You noticed we weren’t out on that day?”

Had he been mumbling all of that? Oops.

Tommy’s face flushed, cheeks red as he stared at the very interesting tile pattern. “Uh— well— yeah. There was a lot of theories about your sudden disappearances. A lot of people tried to do the math to match up any anniversaries that the public was aware of but ultimately we couldn’t find anything so we had just assumed that you had made that some type of yearly self care day for whatever reason. It remained a pretty big question on the forums though.”

Wilbur looked him up and down, lips twitching. “Forums?”

Tommy’s face was beet red, eyes bouncing between every little thing in the room. “Y—yeah. I am uh— I’ve always been a bit of a fan.”

Tommy was going to die. He glanced up, finally meeting the eyes of his dad. Wilbur Stark.

The man’s smile had grown, face entirely soft as his eyes sparkled with fondness. Tommy tried to turn away, hoping that not seeing the adoring look in Wilbur’s eyes would ease his embarrassment. But he could feel the man’s gaze digging into him.

He flinched as a hand landed in his hair, ruffling it slightly before retreating.

Wilbur Stark just ruffled his hair. Wilbur Stark was his dad. And now Wilbur Stark knew he was a fanboy.

Oh, oh, Wilbur could never see his collection of merch. It would be so over for him.

The officer cleared his throat before continuing.

“We don’t know for sure who kidnapped him, but we do know he ended up in the hands of Clay Taken, who went by an alias named Dream. Clay is Puffy’s son, who had been no contact with her for several years.”

Tommy bit his tongue, forcing his expression to become neutral.

Tommy had never liked his dad all that much. Or— well— his kidnapper?

Puffy didn’t talk about him a lot. But Tommy put the pieces together. Clay broke her heart, getting into villainy and crime early on, before disappearing from her home one night and never returning. She told him once that the last words he said to her was that he hated her.

And Tommy didn’t remember much about Clay, but he had grown to adore Puffy. And anyone who could hurt Puffy so much was a wrong’un in his books.

Sally seemed to take notice of his changed demeanor, but didn’t say anything about it.

The officer then continued. “Assuming it was Clay, he had Tommy for a little over 4 years before dying suddenly in a plane crash in a different country. There isn’t much information about his death that we can get, but what we could ahold of was Tommy’s records. After finding out about Clay’s death, the local police searched for any living relatives and through some digging found Puffy. Puffy was contacted and Tommy was sent to live with her. And that’s it. Everything matched up according to Puffy and Tommy’s stories, and we believe she’s in the clear.”

Yes. Tommy knew it. He knew he could count on her.

Wilbur hummed, nodding. “Very well, then. Thank you for looking into all of this so quickly.”

The man smiled. “Of course. And we’ll let you know if any other information comes up. Other than that, everyone’s free to go. I’ll go let Puffy know.”

Wilbur dipped his head in thanks. Tommy took a step forward as he saw the door open, grey curls bouncing into the room before he rushed forward. He ignored the feeling of Wilbur’s finger against his arm. 

Because she was here. 

Puffy had a tissue in her hand, eyes welled up with tears, but as soon as she saw Tommy, her eyes lit up. She opened her arms, catching him with ease.

Tommy buried his face in her chest, tears flowing down his cheeks. Puffy wrapped her arms around him, a hand landing at the nape of his neck as she began to brush her fingers through his baby hairs.

“Oh, oh, Toms. Darling.”

Tommy hiccuped, sobbing into her.

She shushed him gently, rocking them back and forth. “This is so much. I’m so sorry, Tommy. I’m so sorry. I don’t— I don’t know why Clay did that. I don’t understand where I went wrong. I’m so sorry.”

Tommy shook his head, sniffling between cries. “No— No, Gran. Nothings your fault. You— you didn’t know.”

She sighed, tears dripping onto Tommy’s scalp. “Baby, I’m so sorry. I bet this has been so much on you, hasn’t it?”

Tommy nodded into her chest, gripping her scrubs tightly.

She smelled like home. She was home.

Tommy couldn’t help all the questions running through his mind. Would his parents let her visit? Would he get to stay over at Puffy’s from time to time? What about all of his things?

Puffy shushed him gently. “I know you’re thinking too much, Toms. I know this is a lot, but it’s going to be okay, I promise.”

She was right. She was always right. But these were all things happening right now. In the future, yeah, he’d be okay. But in the moment? He was terrified.

Footsteps stopped behind him, Wilbur clearing his throat. The two pulled away from their hug slightly to look at him. The man gave an awkward smile, a twinge of jealousy hidden behind those brown eyes.

“Puffy, was it?”

She nodded, rubbing Tommy’s shoulder up and down from where he was tucked into her side. “That’s me. And you’re Wilbur Stark.”

He nodded. “I am, I am. I thought I would invite you to stay at our tower for the next week or so. That way, Tommy could be more comfortable and it may help him… acclimate.”

Puffy’s eyes widened. “Oh, no, no. I couldn’t intrude on you.”

Sally stepped next to Wilbur, offering the sweetest smile she could. “Of course you’re not intruding. We would love to have you over and get to know you better, after all you’ve been a large part of The— Tommy’s life.”

Wilbur stuck out his hand towards Puffy, the woman confusedly taking it. The man then began to shake it. “Take it as a thank you for raising our son so well. We are grateful he had someone he could count on and who loved him so much.”

Puffy stuttered out a breath, tears on the edges of her eyes. “It was an honor.” She released Wilbur’s hand, cupping Tommy’s face and smiling with as much love as she could. “This is the best man I know, I’m so proud of him.”

Tommy’s face turned red as he grabbed her wrist. “Graaaan.”

She giggled, kissing his nose before backing away.

The Starks only softened, Sally grabbing onto her husband’s arm as she spoke. “Well, we can’t wait to get to know him too.”

“The limo is waiting to take us back. Are you ready to go?” Wilbur asked.

A limo. Tommy was going to get into a limo with Wilbur Stark. His father. That was not going to become any less crazy. 

Tommy looked between the three. “What about my stuff…?”

Wilbur clapped his hands together. “Ah, no need to worry about that. We’ll pick up your things tomorrow morning. I’m sure everyone is quite tired, and we have plenty of clothes for tonight.”

Tommy wrapped his arm around Puffy’s, nodding. “Okay. Alright. Yeah, let’s get going then.”

His parents lit up, walking to once again be on either side of them as they showed them the way out.

Guards were stationed at the door as well as the car, several more littered throughout the street that Tommy could spot. He felt even more eyes on him from places he couldn’t even see. He imagined there were a lot more.

A bit overkill, wouldn’t you think?

A butler opened the limo door, Wilbur suddenly stopping. He gestured for Tommy and Puffy to get in first. Puffy didn’t hesitate, simply bending down and stepping inside.

Tommy bit his lip. This just felt wrong. Him? In a limo? He was just a poor kid. Not anything to write home about. Certainly not someone who should ever step foot in a limo.

Puffy then grinned at him from inside the vehicle, gesturing to come inside. He took a deep breath before stepping inside. She patted the seat next to her, a certain giddiness radiating off of her.

As Tommy sat down, Wilbur and Sally took their seats opposite of them.

“I’ve never been in a limo before!” Puffy exclaimed. She then felt the leather seats, running her hand along the material. “Never thought I’d get the chance!”

The couple opposite of them laughed, ignoring Tommy’s reddening face. The boy stared at his lap, keeping his eyes firmly on his hands where they were tucked between his legs. Sally and Puffy had begun to talk about something or other, Tommy didn’t really pay attention.

He tried not to think at all, but it was rather difficult when you felt the eyes of Wilbur Stark boring into your being. He wouldn’t look away.

If Tommy didn’t know any better, it was like he was the most interesting thing in the universe to the man. Which was an insane thought. Wilbur Stark? Iron man? The one who had single handedly progressed technology to an extreme degree, survived alien attacks, and so much more? Tommy wasn’t anything special compared to all that.

Tommy glanced up, heat rising to his cheeks when his eyes met with brown. Wilbur only smiled softly at him, not even saying a word even if Tommy could tell he wanted to.

It was strange. Those eyes held so much. It was like Wilbur had seen a ghost, and yet at the same time like he wanted to cry from relief. Tommy wondered if they were dealing with as many emotions as he was.

Tommy turned away, not able to continue his staring contest with his dad.

Tommy’s nose scrunched up. It still sounded wrong. It probably would for a while. This was quite the predicament, wasn’t it?

It didn’t take them long to get back to Stark Tower. Guards escorted them to an elevator and they began their assent. As much as Tommy wished he could collapse into his own bed right now, he was more than satisfied with simply getting some sleep.

Maybe some privacy too.

The doors opened to a massive living room with an amazing view. Puffy gasped, eyes sparkling with the city lights. Tommy could only smile at her.

Of course, it was an impressive view. But Tommy had seen it all before. Swinging through the city gave him a different perspective on these sort of things.

He was sure Wilbur felt the same.

“We have an extra guest room that you can stay in,” Sally said to Puffy, already walking her in that direction. “Wil, you can show Tommy to his room. I’m sure he’s exhausted.”

The man nodded, gesturing towards the opposite side of the building. Tommy followed after him silently, still not entirely sure what to say. I mean, what was he supposed to say to his father that had been looking for him for 15 years? Glad to be back? Sorry for your loss? Sorry for the fact you missed out on raising me?

None of that sounded quite right in his humble opinion.

They walked down to the end of a hall, a few doors on either side. They stopped at the second to last. Wilbur smiled at him sheepishly as the door opened.

“I do apologize for the decor. We never… updated it since you were a baby. You can have some time to think, and we’ll update the room to whatever you see fit. Just let us know.”

Tommy stepped into the room, blinking at the walls.

There was a new bed in the corner, but the rest of the room was clearly untouched. The walls were painted light blue with clouds. A sun sat in the corner just above the bed. The wall opposite his bed had blocks with letters that spelled out “Theseus” protruding off of it. String hung from it, photos of what he assumed to be him clipped onto it.

Tommy stepped up to it, reaching out and grabbing the first on the left. He pulled it towards him, careful to not yank it off the string entirely.

This one didn’t even include him. Well, it did. He just wasn’t born yet.

It was Wilbur and Sally holding each other and smiling at the camera. They were holding an ultrasound photo in their hands, which was clipped next.

They looked… happy. Tommy wasn’t quite sure he’d ever seen that face on Wilbur in any interviews. Sally’s eyes were much brighter as well.

Tommy continued down the line. The next was from the day of his birth, Sally holding him to her chest. Wilbur was hovering over the bed, looking completely frazzled. Tommy smiled to himself.

Again, something new for the man.

Next was him in Wilbur’s arms. Well, an asleep Wilbur. The man was in a rocking chair, head hung back and mouth wide open in a snore. The baby was tucked into the man’s chest, face all squished up against it. Tears welled up in his eyes, not daring to fall but enough to make his vision a little blurry.

That was him. Tommy had never seen his baby photos before. He and Puffy had figured they were simply lost. But now, it was bittersweet. This was where he was supposed to grow up?

How different would things have been? It scared him, almost. He couldn’t imagine a life without Puffy or Tubbo. Or that moldy stain on his roof. If he grew up here, he probably wouldn’t have seen mold in his life.

Tommy looked away from the photos, only just realizing Wilbur was still there. Just in the doorway, watching him. The man was leaned against it, entire being soft. The way his eyes sparkled, the slight squish to his cheeks and upturn of his lips. The loose posture and relaxed stance.

Tommy blushed, but didn’t look away.

Wilbur only kept looking into his eyes, completely lost in his own thoughts. Tommy cleared his throat, scratching at his neck.

“Uh… Mr. Stark? Do you… need something?”

That seems to snap the man out of whatever trance he was in. He stood up straight, a slight tint of red coming to his cheeks as he looked away.

“Ah, I’m sorry about that. It’s just… I didn’t think I’d ever see you in this room again. It’s nice.”

Tommy shifted from foot to foot. This really was real. Could you blame him for being unable to process this yet? It was insane.

So, he did what he always did when things got a little too much. He decided to expend his energy on someone else.

Imagine losing your son, and then your own son doesn’t even believe you when you finally find him? Imagine him being so hesitant to come home, and attached to a completely different parental figure?

It was unfair.

Wilbur looked like he desperately needed a hug. 

(He really needed an excuse to get a hug).

“Do you uh… do you need a hug?” Tommy asked, lifting his arms just slightly.

Wilbur blinked at him. Awkward tension grew in the room with each silent second that passed. Suddenly, just as Tommy began to lower his arms, the man launched himself forward. He stopped just in front of Tommy, carefully wrapping his arms around him.

Tommy did the same, movements much more robotic and tense as he placed them around Wilbur’s back. The man was hunched over him slightly due to his height, one hand on his upper back and the other wrapped around to the other side of his waist.

It felt… nice. Tommy would admit, it’s been awhile since he had been consumed in a hug. He was taller than Puffy and anybody else who would hug him. Wilbur’s hand landed at the back of his neck, pushing his head further into his chest as he curled around him. The man’s face buried into the back of his head, Wilbur’s breath tickling his scalp with each deep breath in and out.

Like the man just wanted to take in every part of him. Consume him whole.

The arms around him squeezed. Not so hard that it hurt, but rather a protective embrace. Tommy melted into the hug, and for a moment everything was okay. There wasn’t this giant elephant in the room. Nothing hanging over his head. No weight on his shoulders. No snake pit of emotions in his gut.

Just him and a protector. Tommy was by no means weak. He could snap Wilbur’s back right now just by squeezing too hard. But it was nice to not have to be for just a moment. No guard up. No worrying about exactly who he was hugging.

Just Tommy and Wilbur.

Wetness began to hit his scalp, damp and cold with each tear drop that slid from Wilbur’s eyes and into his hair.

The man then pulled back slightly, sliding his hands up his back and over his neck to hold his face. Tommy blinked, eyes locked in a staring contest with the red rimmed brown. There was a joyous smile on Wilbur’s face, wobbly like he was about to start bawling again.

The man’s hands were calloused and yet surprisingly soft, not squishing his cheeks too much like Puffy did. Just holding him, like he was a fragile piece of glass.

“I’m glad you’re home.”

Tommy gave a wobbly smile back, mourning the loss of silence. The quieted emotions were stirring up all over again at the quiet admittance of their situation.

Was Tommy happy? He didn’t know. He was afraid. Afraid of what all this meant and what was to come. Terrified of change.

But deep down he knew he’d get through it. They’d figure it out, somehow. One snake at a time he’d pull these emotions out of their pit to find what lay beneath. Joy would sit at the bottom, Tommy knew it.

Wilbur suddenly pulled his hands back, eyes wide as he quickly ran a hand through his hair. “Ah— My apologies. This is… a lot.” He chuckled humorlessly. “If… If I ever move too fast you can let me know. We want you to be comfortable.”

It was so strange. Wilbur Stark was known as a snarky, witty, and rather pompous rich man who practically ran the world. His smiles were sharp and he gave off an aura of know-it-all. A hero who saved the world just because he could.

That public image of Wilbur Stark was completely different from the one in front of him. The Wilbur in front of him looked just about ready to collapse. Wilbur Stark was crying over him. Over a hug. 

It made Tommy feel oddly special.

Tommy shook his head slightly. “No, no— It’s alright. It’s… just gonna take some getting used to, I suppose.”

Wilbur took a deep breath, slapping on another soft smile. “Well, I should let you have some space. If you need anything, anything at all, then me and Sally are just across from you, okay? And Puffy is down the opposite hall at the very end if you would be more comfortable talking to her. I promise, whatever it is you need, we’re here for you.”

Heat began to grow in his cheeks. “Thank you.” He was absolutely not going into their room and waking them up like a scared little kid.

“We’ll wake you up for breakfast at 9am, is that okay? Or would you rather sleep in a little more?” Wilbur questioned.

Tommy’s brows furrowed. “9? But don’t I need to be at school?”

The man chuckled. “Of course not. This is a rather big situation. We have informed the school that you will not be attending for the next week or so.”

Tommy paled. No school? No school meant no getting out of this. No school meant no “extracurriculars” and “clubs.” No school meant no Spider-Man.

How was he going to sneak Spider-Man past Wilbur Stark?

Tommy groaned internally. There was no way he was getting past Wilbur right now. His father’s eyes would probably be on him all the time. The city would just have to do without him for the time being.

“That makes sense.” He said instead of trying to argue.

Wilbur nodded. “I’ll see you at 9, then. Sleep well.”

The door swooshed close, leaving Tommy alone.

The boy flopped onto his new bed, staring at the ceiling. This was all insane. Wilbur Stark was his dad, and he knew he kept repeating it but— could you blame him?

He had gotten caught up in a gang fight with the hopes of protecting the old lady caught in the middle, not to be taken in as a missing person. Everything was moving fast, and he hoped for some type of normalcy. At least Puffy was here, even if she was on the other side of the building.

Tommy curled into his blankets, sighing.

His emotions were fluctuating so quickly. One moment he wanted to break down crying and screaming, and the next he felt entirely numb. The bottle of his emotions was full and with every little jerk it began to overflow. Once it settled, he could feel that numbness again.

The world wasn’t the kindest place, especially not to him, but perhaps this was the start of something good. Or maybe once Wilbur and Sally saw he wasn’t the little boy they had originally wanted, then they’ll leave.

Either way, Tommy had to keep himself calm. It would be fine, no matter what happened.

-/-/-/-/-/-

Wilbur’s heart was pounding, hands starting to shake as he left Tommy’s bedroom and stumbled into his and Sally’s. When he opened the door, she was sitting at the edge of the bed. As soon as he entered, she stood up, eyes wide. Wilbur’s eyes were blown wide too, lips parted like he wanted to speak but he couldn’t say a word.

The two crashed into each other, both of them cupping each other’s faces and knocking their forehead together as they breathed heavily. Awed chuckles escaped their lips, breathless and amazed.

“He’s— he’s home. He’s home. He’s home.” Sally repeated like she just couldn’t believe it.

Wilbur’s lips wobbled, nodding against her forehead as tears began to trail down his cheeks. “He’s beautiful. He’s so beautiful.”

She chuckled again as tears began to fall, rubbing her nose against his. “He is. He is. And he’s ours. Our baby. He’s home.”

Wilbur wrapped his arms around her, burying his face into her shoulder as she did the same.

“I— I hugged him. He let me hug him. I didn’t ever want to let go. He’s home.”

They separated, flopping onto the edge of the bed. They sat next to each other, pressed against each other’s sides. Wilbur giggled to himself as he rubbed his face up and down. “We’re a mess.”

Sally’s hand landed on his back, rubbing it up and down in small circles. “Yeah, we are. But that’s a bit fair isn’t it? We just found our son. I think we can give ourselves a little grace.”

Wilbur laid his head on her shoulder. “Did you… did you hear him talking at the station? When he said he was a fan?”

Sally chuckled. “I did, I did.”

Wilbur flopped backwards, landing on the bed with a joyful sigh. “I’m going to die.”

Once more, she giggled. “Yeah?”

“I haven’t been this happy since— since the day he was born. I don’t think my poor heart can take it.”

She laid down next to him, keeping a small distance between them. They smiled at each other, interlocking a hand in the space between them.

It went unsaid whom that space was for. Wilbur knew it was probably unrealistic, but a part of him hoped that they would be able to fall asleep in this bed with their little boy between them once again.

Wilbur could still see it when he looked at that space. A little golden baby, fast asleep and surrounded by the love of his parents. Protected, safe, cherished. They never should have left this bed.

Wilbur squeezed Sally’s hands tighter, sighing. “What if… What if he doesn’t end up liking me?” He whispered.

Sally leveled him a look. “He’s already a fan.”

He chuckled wetly. “Being a fan of a celebrity is different than liking me as a dad.”

She gave him a sad smile. “All we can do is our best. This is… a lot for him. And as terrible as this fact is— We aren’t his… parents. We have to earn that, and it may be a little too late in his development for that relationship to fully form.”

Wilbur choked on a sob, wiping at his eyes. “I know. I know.”

“But… He is our son. All we can do is treat him with understanding and unconditional love. I believe after that, everything else will fall into place. We can be a source of comfort and a rock for him, show him we love him until the ends of the universe. After that it’s up to him to make those decisions. I believe though… that we can win him over. You’re going to be a great dad. You already are.”

He gave her a weak smile. “And you’re already an amazing mom. Thank you for helping out with Puffy.”

The woman softened. “Of course. She’s really nice, by the way. I got to talk to her a bit while showing her the room, and she truly is the best person I could have hoped to take care of him.”

A sign of relief. “That’s good. We’re going to be alright.”

Sally squeezed his hand. “Yeah, we’ll be alright.”

Chapter Text

Tommy woke up to a knock on the door. He sat up, rubbing at his eyes tiredly. The room around him was blurry with morning sleepiness.

He blinked slowly, mind still trying to wake up.

Another knock.

“Mmm… I’ll be right there, Gran!”

He rubbed at his eyes once more, eyebrows furrowing as the room around him became more clear.

This wasn’t his room…?

His room was full of dirty clothes, random pieces of electronics, and posters. This room was painted in a bright blue sky.

Then, it hit him.

Right. He wasn’t at his house. He was in  Stark Tower.

And that probably wasn’t his grandma knocking on the door. He quickly threw the blankets off of him, rushing to the door and opening it. “Sorry— I meant Mr. Stark.”

Wilbur was standing at the doorway, eyes blinking rapidly at him. “No, no, it’s okay.”

Tommy’s face reddened as he scratched at the side of his arm awkwardly. He did  not just call Wilbur Stark  Gran.

Wilbur then softened immensely, posture growing casual as a gleam of fondness sparkled in his eyes. The man looked him up and down, taking in the wrinkles in his clothes and the way his hair stuck up in different places.

“Good morning, Tommy,” Wilbur greeted, voice so light it was like it could break in the wind.

Tommy didn’t dare to continue looking in those fond eyes, glancing to the side. “Good morning, Mr. Stark.”

Wilbur’s nose wrinkled, lip curling up just slightly. Tommy hated the way he could see himself mirrored in the man.

“Please, call me Wilbur or Wil.”

Yeah, no. Tommy was  never going to wrap his head around that one.

“Uh… okay, Mr. Wilbur, sorry.” He tried, only for the man’s nose to wrinkle further.

“Drop the  Mr, kid,” the man amended.

“Sorry, Stark,” Tommy curled into himself as the man facepalmed. 

Wilbur rubbed at his face with a tired smirk as he sighed. Yet not an ounce of malice could be found. “We’ll get there eventually. Now, let’s head to breakfast, shall we?”

Wilbur stepped out of the doorway, gesturing for Tommy to step out of his room. Tommy did as he was told and followed the hall down to the living room. It was a very open concept living space, with the kitchen and dining room all set out in the open to the right of the living room. The smell of waffles wafting through the room along with the quiet sizzle of bacon.

Tommy took a deep breath in, savoring it. It smelled just like how Puffy made them. Was Puffy cooking?

He glanced over, smiling when he saw his Gran and his… mom? In the kitchen. The two were talking to each other quietly, both rambling on about something. No, someone. Tommy squinted, using his hearing to eavesdrop.

Only to instantly regret it.

“He used to have these little iron man action figures. And he’d make me play with them and pretend to be a villain so he could be the hero. It was his  favorite game.”

Sally giggled from her spot next to Puffy, flipping a pancake. “That’s so sweet. Does he still have them?”

“Oh, yes. He’s got a whole little collection! Iron Man is his favorite hero.” She giggled. “He always gets fussy when I move them around to clean.”

Tommy’s cheeks grew red.  Why was Puffy praying for his downfall? Her own grandson? How could she betray him like this?

“Heyyy!” Tommy shouted loudly, announcing their presence as they entered the room. The two women looked up from what they were doing, smiling at the boy.

“Good morning, Tom!” Puffy stepped to him, grabbing his face and pinching his cheeks.

Tommy winced, chuckling as he grabbed her wrists to pull them away. “Good morning, Gran.”

“Breakfast is nearly ready. Why don’t you have a seat?” Sally said, gesturing to the island. “What would you like to drink?”

Tommy waved his hand. “Oh no, I can get it myself.” Sally Stark was not going to pour him a glass of orange juice. That would be utterly ridiculous. This is  already utterly ridiculous.

Sally only rolled her eyes with a smirk. “My kitchen, my rules. And I say I get you a glass of whatever you’d like to drink.”

But it didn’t seem Tommy had much of a choice in the matter. He sighed, taking a seat at the island. “Some orange juice, please.”

She hummed, triumphant as she turned to the fridge. “Any ice?”

“Who puts  ice in  orange juice?” Tommy said, face pinched in disgust.

Wilbur sat next to him, grinning. “I do. It keeps it cold.”

Tommy’s lips pulled up at the mere thought. The man only giggled as Sally placed the orange juice in front of Tommy. The woman then smirked at him, leaning forward like she was telling him a secret.

“He puts ice in his milk too. A real wacko if you ask me.”

“There is no way I’m related to that,” Tommy blurted out, cringing immediately at the mention of their relation. The room went silent for an awkward moment before Wilbur and Sally burst out laughing. 

Puffy covered her mouth, refusing to make eye contact as she giggled. Tommy awkwardly chuckled with them before downing the orange juice to avoid looking at the two.

The laughter died down and Wilbur took his weird ice-filled orange juice in his hand. “I’ll teach you the ways. You’ll see the superior method of drinking milk.” He took a sip and set it back on the table before changing the subject. “So, I figured we could go back to your apartment today and collect your things. How does that sound?”

Tommy shrugged. Avoidance wasn't the  healthiest way to handle things, Tommy knew, but every time someone brought up  that he couldn't help but flinch back. He didn't  want to think about it. He didn't  want to think about the fact he was going to clean out his room and pack everything away to live with someone  else.

His dad. Who was Stark.  Stark.

Who he had looked up to for so long as a child, even to  now. All those silly toys that Puffy was talking about–

Tommy’s eyes grew huge.  All the merch. Stark couldn't see that in his room! He sat up straight, talking faster than his brain was thinking. “I'll– I’ll do it! Yeah, we can do that today! Me and Puffy will grab everything and then we can bring it back.”

Wilbur tilted his head. “Nonsense, we’ll help you pack.”

“No!” Tommy blurted, cheeks flushing red as the two flinched. “I mean- You don’t have to do that. It's  really not that much. It won't take long!”

Wilbur frowned, making Tommy cringe. He wasn't sure which part of that statement  didn’t make Wilbur disappointed. “We  really don’t mind, Tommy. I know we aren't–  I sound so self centered saying this– your  average citizen…  But nobody needs to be treated any differently. You’re our son, and we want to make sure you have everything you need and more. No offense, but it doesn't seem you’ll allow us to  give you much, so at least allow us to help you reunite with what you  do have. If you truly don’t want us to, we won't. But don’t let who we are deter you from letting us do things for you.”

Tommy rubbed his face and groaned internally. “I didn't mean to shout–” He sighed, setting his hands down. “Just got a little overwhelmed is all… You can…” Tommy cringed at the way the two leaned forward, waiting in anticipation for the invitation into Tommy’s space. “You can help.” They clearly were trying their best to  subdue their joy, but Tommy could see it in the upturn of their lips and the spark in their eyes.

It warmed Tommy as much as it burned him. Eyes so  gentle and  wanting. Goodness, Tommy couldn’t imagine being in their shoes. Losing their child so early, only for him to be found at the police station 15 years after. How much they've missed, and how desperately they want to make up for lost time.

Tommy couldn't help the way the idea made his gut turn. The  understanding and  desire he had to grow closer as well as the pure  fear of the unknown. Of losing what very little he  did have. The contentedness of going home to the same stains, with the same cheap dinner, and the same smiling face.

Would that be him again? He would get into a routine, eventually, right?

Until then, everything was so complex. He would have to dance around Stark to be a friendly neighborhood spider-man. He'd have to go between the apartment and the penthouse to see his new-strange family formation. He’d have to  bond  with new people. 

Gross. 

Most embarrassingly…  Mr. Stark was going to see his merch.

Tommy sighed, cleaning his plate of breakfast with a quick inhale. “I'll go get ready, and we can go.” He pushed himself away, ignoring the awed looks of his  parents at how fast he ate. He heard Puffy explaining that was normal for him. It  was going to be interesting to finally eat his full. His metabolism was quite high after he was bit by that spider, but due to their… funding issues… he never did get to gorge on food like his stomach begged him for. The hotdog stand people were often kind enough to give him one or two as he swung through the city, though, so he managed.

He would have to find someway to sneak into the kitchen and scarf down whatever is in the fridge before anyone could notice.

-/-/-/-/-/-

They didn't take a limo, this time. Wilbur decided it was best to take a more “undercover” car to the apartment due to the fact something so expensive would stand out a bit in the neighborhood. So they took what was  clearly a car specifically designed to  look old and beat up, but on the inside was still fit with all the same amenities and luxuries of any of Wilbur’s other cars. They packed loads of empty boxes into the trunk (probably more than they’d need), and took off.

The ride was  mostly silent. Wilbur and Sally road in the front, and Puffy and Tommy road in the back. Sally’s hand was reaching across the gap, landing on Wilbur’s leg. Wilbur had only one hand on the wheel, fingers intertwined with hers.

Wilbur and Sally were practically inseparable even to the public eye. They almost always had their hands brushing against each other. More often, Sally would be found with her arm linked with Wilbur’s, if not tucked into his side.

It was clear at least  one of them had the love language of touch, if not both. From the interviews Tommy has studied, it was probably both, with a stronger leaning towards Wilbur as he was the one to typically engage.

Tommy saw it here, too. He understood it in a bit more of an intimate way. Wilbur had an intense fear of  loss. It was clear in the way he sacrificed himself for the world many times. It was clear in the way he designed an AI meant to  shield the world. It was clear in the way his hands always found their way to his loved ones. To ensure they were still  there. It was most likely subconscious at this point. Tommy wondered if either of them even realized the desperation shown with the twitch of his fingers. The quick flick of Wilbur’s eyes into the mirror to ensure Tommy was still there. Their tightened grip each time their eyes met as Wilbur held himself back from reaching back and grabbing Tommy and never letting go.

It was scary because that's how Tommy was too. He shied away from Wilbur’s gaze each time, because it was scarily similar to his own.

Tommy always had a habit of grabbing his friends and family. Especially after the  incident. Tommy clung closely to his loved ones because the world out there was scary, and somehow, he’d keep them safe.

Even if he’s failed 100 times before.

And wasn't that scarily similar to his father?

Tommy ruined everything he touched, though. He put them in danger relentlessly, even if they didn't realize it.

What if he simply was meant to be alone? What if everything he touched was meant to slip through his fingers?  What if he got them killed too?

Tommy gripped his pants, chuckling to himself internally.

Well…

He supposed it was a good thing his father was  Iron Man. That means he had better odds of keeping this one alive.

They pulled up to the apartment, and Tommy was quick to hop out. He ignored the raised brows of the group and yanked a few boxes out of the trunk. With a little  too much speed, he rushed through the apartment halls to get to theirs. He ignored the confused noises of his family and burst into his apartment. He slammed his door behind him and made his way to the crates of old toys he had laying around.

Tommy was  sure they probably found his hurried self a bit offensive, but at the moment he could not care.

Because it wasn't until now that he realized just how  much Iron Man merchandise he had. Wilbur already  knew he was a fan, but walking into a teenagers room and there being  posters of himself was probably a different level. Tommy quickly  (but carefully) removed the posters from the wall and rolled them up. He shoved the lego sets and action figures into the boxes. As he was working, there was a knock on his door.

“Tommy? May I come in to help?” Wilbur’s voice filtered through.

“Uh…” Tommy grabbed another figure on his shelf, stuffing it into the box with a loud  crash as they all clattered together. “Yeah!”

Wilbur opened the door slowly, eyeing Tommy carefully. The boy smiled awkwardly, standing up straight in his now disaster of a room. Listen– He wasn’t the  cleanest teenager by any means– but normally his room was much more organized than this! Wilbur just happened to walk in after the storm that was  him  came through. 

Wilbur then looked over the room, humming. It felt a little odd. His room was being scrutinized in a way Tommy knew wasn't  judging. At least, not a  bad kind of judging. Tommy saw the way Wilbur’s eyes lingered on mold stains and the paint stripping off the walls. The man’s jaw set, teeth clearly tightened against each other. He was  unhappy with what he saw.

A little frustration grew in Tommy’s cheeks. This was  his room. Puffy provided everything he  needed. Sure, it wasn't perfect, but it was  home.

More than anything this man has done for him.

Tommy blinked at the sudden change in his emotions. Well, that wasn't quite fair of him. Wilbur didn't  purposefully have his son kidnapped. Wilbur probably wasn't  upset at Puffy or disappointed in the work and effort put in. Rather the simple fact that any effort was  needed in the first place.

Tommy let out a breath, Wilbur doing the same as they both slapped on a smile. Wilbur then picked up a box, breaking the silence. “So, what do we start with?”

Tommy hummed, gesturing to the closet. “I guess we can start with the clothes. I don't want to remove  everything  here, y’know? In case I ever stay the night here.”

He was expecting the man to have a reaction to that, but instead he just nodded. Either he was getting better at acting, or he was getting more used to the idea of split time with him.

Tommy is comfortable with either. 

Wilbur opened his closet, thumbing through the old long sleeve-shirts and button-ups. Tommy was a  big fan of sweatshirts and hoodies, mostly because they tended to cover up the bruises and cuts he got from his nightly escapades. They also were baggy, making it harder to see the random 6-pack he received after being bitten by a spider. Because surely, spider powers must come with a 6-pack.

Tommy started to go through his drawers, grabbing his PJ’s and other assortment of clothing. The room was quiet for the most part. The sound of clothes being ripped off hangers and tossed aside followed by the opening and closing of drawers.

Eventually, the silence became too much for the man, and Wilbur broke it once more. “So, what are some things you are into? I see lots of Star Wars hoodies in here.” He turned it around, showing it to Tommy. 

It had the poster from Episode I on it. Wilbur then turned it back around, looking at the tag to see the size. Most of the tags had lost all the letters and words at that point considering how old they were, but Wilbur managed to make out the size before stuffing it into the box.

Tommy knew whatever he said he was interested in, he'd probably find a few new shirts of in his closet back at the penthouse. Maybe posters or other various things to make his room feel a bit more… personal.

“Yeah, I'm a big fan of Star Wars. I really enjoy the characters and story. It's fun.” Tommy responded, holding himself back from the rant that wanted to escape his lips. Truthfully, he could talk about his interests all day.

Wilbur hummed, reaching down to the bottom of the closet and pulling out a toy lightsaber. The man flicked it out, watching as the plastic bits opened up into a makeshift laser sword. It was cheap– something Puffy got on sale from Walmart around the holidays. It was one of Tommy’s favorite toys growing up, though. 

Wilbur fiddled with it, feeling along the plastic with a hum. He squinted at it, holding it up to his eye. “Y’know…” Wilbur swung the sword, spinning it around his fingers with another swipe. “I could probably make one of these. A real one, I mean.”

Tommy’s lips parted, eyes wide. “Um… That’s not– necessary–” 

Wilbur swiped again, bringing it back to his face as he put one hand on his chin. “It doesn’t seem  too complicated, honestly. I'm surprised someone else hasn’t figured it out quite yet.” 

Tommy chuckled nervously. It's not like Tommy hasn't thought about it before. He actually  has written out how to make one before, but it isn't really possible with the tools he has currently.

“Although, I doubt it would work with pure  light as its fuel. It would probably need to be electrical-based. I fought something kinda like that once…” Wilbur mumbled.

“Yeah, it wouldn't really work that way in real life. Hard light certainly  exists. But the properties shown in the series are more indicative of a heat based weapon. The hard part is having a way to heat up something so much that it could melt anything it comes near instantly without burning itself. Another issue you’d run into is the light being so intense that it would burn the users eyes as well as the heat immeting from it causing the user’s skin to melt off. You’d also need a material that was conductive while also remaining at an extremely high melting point. Overall it's a nice concept, maybe even something that's possible, but might not be worth the materials and cost.” Tommy said.

Wilbur stared at him, smiling. 

“What?” Tommy questioned. 

The man just closed the plastic weapon, setting it in the box. “You've put a lot of thought into it.  Genuine thought. Are you interested in building things? Inventing, and all that jazz.”

Oh.  Oh. He was talking to  the inventor. Wilbur was probably very interested in seeing if his son was anything like him. What a disappointment he was going to be. Tommy was smart– he knew that. But he wasn't a  Stark level of smart. 

“Well… yeah, I am. But not at your level or anything,” Tommy said, preparing the man for the invitable disappointment. 

Wilbur waved his hand. “No offense, Tommy, but I wouldn't expect someone who has had little access to the world's leading experts in every category to reach a level of comprehension that I did at a younger age. Different lives, different upbringings. Have you built anything? Or do you have any plans to build things?” Wilbur asked, shooing away Tommy’s self deprecation.

Still, though, Tommy knew him and his father couldn't be on the same level. Even people with access to everything still failed. Wilbur  didn’t. Starks  didn’t. Tommy  did. Constantly. 

Tommy’s failures though often left him sleepless at night. Tommy didn't want to think about that anymore.

Instead, he stuttered through his answer. “I– uh… yeah. I built a few things.”  Most of which were now spider-man centered and he couldn't show the man.

Tommy walked over to his desk, gesturing to the various gadgets there. Wilbur happily skipped over to him, pointing at the various items. “May I?”

Tommy nodded. 

Wilbur reached out, picking up a small robotic hand. There were a few sticky pads at the end. Tommy stepped over, grabbing them. “They go on the main nerve clusters.” He helped stick them along Wilbur’s forearm and wrist. 

The man flexed his hand, watching the robotic arm do the same.

“It was originally designed just to function separately from the user. So, they could use it in more dangerous situations rather than having to go in themselves. I suppose that's the usage of most robotics… But I also designed it to clip directly onto the user to provide additional strength and support for those with muscle weakness or other illnesses that might lower the strength of the hands.”

Wilbur continued to relax and flex his hand, feeling the machinery around his fingers push and pull with minimal effort. “And you made this? How long did it take?”

Despite the fact that Tommy  knew this shouldn't be all that impressive, especially to  Wilbur Stark, he found himself blushing at the awed tone. It was easy enough to excuse the amazement by saying it was all the man’s acting. To layer it under the assumption of a lie was more of a tolerable thought than believing the man was genuinely  impressed.

Why? Tommy wasn't quite sure. It had always been that way. His teachers had always been more  annoyed than impressed. Aside from Sam, of course. Puffy was well… Puffy. She always found everything he did to be the most amazing thing since sliced bread.

Perhaps Wilbur was the same? Perhaps Wilbur was simply cheering him on due to their relation, rather than the actual merit of his creations. 

“Yeah, I made that. It took me a few days, I think. Mostly just to gather the parts.”

Wilbur set the robotic hand down, going over the other trinkets he made. There was a Rubik's cube auto solver he had programmed. Wilbur scrambled the cube and set it back on top, watching the machine solve it in a single second. A bit long for a machine, but with the tools he had he was surprised it could withstand such speed without falling apart.

The man giggled–  giggled– before moving on to another object.

The thing was, despite all the excuses Tommy made in his mind about how none of this was  real. Wilbur was never known to be a lying man. He was always  brutally honest. Snarky and unkind to many except those he was closest to. His inner circle was known to be one of the safest places on earth. 

But even they would report of his honesty. A kinder touch, perhaps, but always an honest one.

Wilbur made his way over to the drawers, pulling out the designs and not-quite-blueprints he had made. He laid them out across the desk and drank them in, eyes bouncing across the pages so fast Tommy was scared he’d drown. The smile on his face was entirely too  real.

Wilbur got to the light saber, tapping it and looking back at Tommy. “You already designed one?” 

Tommy shrugged, scratching his arm in something akin to self-soothing. “Kind of? I don’t think it's all that impressive. My calculations are probably  way off. I've never even  seen a lot of the materials I used too– so it's probably not all that realistic of a design.”

Wilbur waved his hand once more to silence the boy before running his finger along the drawing. “You combatted the overheating by putting a quick and efficient cooling system in the center. The fans draw the heat back  into  the center of the saber to be cooled instead of letting it radiate  out. Clever.”

Wilbur’s eyes then bounced up to the computer, fingers brushing against it. “Did you build this too?!” 

Tommy folded both arms over his stomach, cheeks turning a darker shade of pink the more Wilbur rambled barely giving even a  moment before the man jumped to another object of praise. “Yeah, I built just about every electronic in the house.”

Wilbur peaked through the side, grinning at the hodgepodge of components. “Tommy, this is  amazing. ”

Tommy’s shoulder hiked up, trying to cover his reddening face. “It's really not  that impressive. I mean, you should know, you made the first iron man suit in a  cav–”

Wilbur turned around, finger coming up to Tommy’s lips and squishing them closed. Tommy blinked in shock. 

“Shhhh… Not another peep about that. Tommy, this is  impressive. The difference between you and me is that you have  drive. I  wasted a good amount of my childhood, especially my teen years by not applying myself or  caring. You're already  far ahead of me in that aspect. I’m proud of you.” 

Tommy’s breath caught in his throat.  Wilbur Stark just said he was  proud of him. His… dad. His mind desperately tried to downplay it. Tried to convince him in one way or another that this wasn't as big of a deal as it was.

But the desperate, needy thing in Tommy’s chest won; it  believed. Wilbur held his face, eyes sparkling with something a bit deeper than Tommy could decipher. This meant more to Wilbur than just  pride.

“You're perfect. You do know that, don't you? Even if you flunked out of school and couldn't pass first grade math, you’d still be perfect. I am extraordinarily proud of the effort you put into your craft. Where did you get all these parts anyway?”

Tommy chuckled awkwardly. Not only was he entirely unsure how to handle such a barrage of positive affirmations from the man, Tommy  knew Wilbur wasn’t going to like the answer. 

“I didn’t really have the funds to  buy the parts. So I just kind of… raided the dumpsters of various electronic stores?” He smiled with all his teeth, sweat dripping down his neck.

Disgust appeared on Wilbur’s face. His lip pulled up and his eye twitched as he moved his hands to grip Tommy’s shoulders. “ That ends today. I’ll show you how to get into the lab and give you access to whatever tools you’ll need so you can build to your heart's content. No more dumpster diving.”

“Isn't that a bit of a waste? I'm not… providing anything for the company, that's for sure. I’d feel bad for using its resources–”

Wilbur booped his nose, causing Tommy to cut himself off. “Nothing is a waste for you, Toms. Whatever you want, you’ll get.”

Wilbur Stark just booped his nose. He was never going to get over this. Not  ever.

Wilbur stepped back to his closet, grabbing another sweatshirt. He looked it over, brows raising as he smiled. He turned it around, holding it up to himself. “ Big fan of this one.”

Tommy blinked out of his stupor, looking over at the man.  Oh no.

Wilbur was holding up an  Iron Man sweatshirt. It was so  cheesy too. It had  Stark Intern  written on it. Wilbur pulled out another, looking over the two with a  far too wide smile. This one said  #1 Iron Man Fan.

Was Tommy bitten by a radioactive tomato? Because  that was what he was turning into from how red his face had gotten. 

Puffy had gotten that one for his 14th birthday. It was  clearly well loved, with the printed letters peeling off in flakes. 

“Y’know I could get you into an internship. But honestly that would be a bit of a downgrade from your current status.”

Wilbur pulled them off the hanger and folded them into the boxes.

He was going to die from embarrassment. Tommy covered his face as the man pulled out  another.

It was all he asked for for the past several holidays, okay? Don't judge him.

That one had Wilbur’s  actual face on it. With the Iron Man suit behind him as he posed all heroically.

It was from a magazine cover Wilbur had posed for and gotten interviewed in. It was one of Tommy’s favorite interviews because he  actually went a bit more in depth on his designs and work as a hero. Tommy still listened to the recorded version and even  had the magazine.

Wilbur held it up to his face. “I think it got a little warped in printing, what do you think?” He  finally looked Tommy in the eyes. Tommy quickly covered his eyes with his fingers, cringing violently. Sweat dripped down his neck and his palms became clammy.

Wilbur put his hands up, dropping the hoodie into the box. “Hey, it's alright. You don't need to be embarrassed, I promise.” 

Tommy groaned as he flopped onto his bed.  “Yes I do.” Because  what else was he supposed to feel? Suddenly all the merchandise felt  odd. Everyone was obsessed with superheroes. Everyone loved them and was inspired by them.

But not  everyone found out they had pictures of their  biological father plastered on shirts and walls. 

Even as Wilbur was  trying to calm him down, the man couldn't wipe that  disgustingly fond smirk off his face. “You  really don’t– I’m not judging and I don’t find it strange.” The man sat beside him.

“You don’t know the half of it.” 

Wilbur hid his chuckle with a cough. “You mean the box of action figures over there? Yeah, I already saw it.”

Tommy groaned louder.

Wilbur set a hand on his shoulder. “ Tom. I didn’t… I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable. If this is why you didn't want me in your room, I'll leave. I won't ever mention it again.”

Tommy finally removed his hands from his face, wiping them down his cheeks before folding them between his knees. “I don't… It's fine. It's just… sorry? I imagine it's a bit odd to walk into a teenagers room and know that they had tons of action figures and pictures of you all over the place.”

Wilbur huffed a laugh. “You’re not the only teenager who's bought all this exact merch, y'know that right? Our prime customers are from the ages of preteen to young adult, mostly boys. I wouldn't have  made it and  approved of the merch if I cared. If anything, it makes me really  happy that I was…  something in your life.” The tone switched in an instant. From embarrassing and tense to stretching much deeper in a matter of seconds. Wilbur shrugged. “It’s good to know that in one way or another, I played a part in your life. I wish it had been  more. I wish you didn’t have to look up at me through pictures on a wall, rather than as you grew up and we scratched your height on the door frame. I’m… honored. Honored to have been something to you before you truly knew me.”

Tommy sighed, muscles relaxing as the blood finally rushed away from his face. “You saved me once, before.”

Wilbur blinked, grip tightening on his shoulder. “What?”

Tommy smiled sadly at him, pointing at a framed photograph on the stand. Wilbur reached over, grabbing it and pulling it closer.

In the picture there were two people. An older man with green dyed hair. He had his arm wrapped around a small child– probably around 8 years old– in a plastic Iron Man mask with light up gloves. Behind them was a sign that said  Stark-Expo.

Wilbur remembered this expo. It was the one the bots attacked him.

“Sam had taken me to that expo. Those robots came and started attacking everyone. You were flying around and everyone was screaming. I don't really know what possessed me but the crowd had all started running around me and I just stood there. A robot came up and started to build up a shot. I extended my hand and lit up my little toy glove. Just as it was about to kill me– You showed up. You lifted your mask for just a second and said ‘nice shot, kid’ then flew off. For a while I believed that my toy actually  worked.  I tried to get it to fire again for so long.” Tommy chuckled. “But as I grew I reframed the memory and realized you had saved me. Then I started  bragging about it. Everyone in my school knew that  I had been saved by  the Iron Man.”

Wilbur listened intently, leaning in as the picture unfolded before him. “I… vaguely remember that. You were right  there? I could have– I could have had you so much sooner…” Wilbur mumbled.

Tommy gave him a sad smile. 

How things would have been different if he did. Tommy loved Puffy and  Sam  at the time, but the connection wasn’t as strong. He probably would have this transition so much easier. Maybe he could have even remembered a few more details about his time with Dream at that age. It's all been lost to time. 

Tommy would probably never have gotten bitten by that spider. Tommy doubted he would ever get a field trip to Oscorp. No, he’d have constant access to Stark Technologies. He’d be given all the opportunities Wilbur was growing up. All the best schools and tutors to teach him all the things he barely understands even today. 

Wilbur and Sally probably would have been spoiling him so much more. They would have still missed out on a lot of firsts, of course, but they would have had so much more time  being his parents.

“It's not your fault,”  Tommy said. “You couldn't have known that was  me.”

Wilbur hummed, looping an arm around Tommy’s back and gripping his shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” The teen asked, looking at the man’s watering eyes.

“For ever letting you go,” Wilbur answered. Tommy wasn't quite sure  who the man was talking to. Maybe some idea of Tommy in his head. Some Tommy that was  supposed to exist but didn’t now. The man wiped his eyes, looking back to the photograph. “You said this was Sam, right? Who is Sam?”

Tommy smiled sadly. “That was my old teacher. He was one of the only people that actually cared and pushed me to use my head. He used his low teacher’s salary to get tickets to the expo because he knew how badly I wanted to go.”

Wilbur frowned, holding him a little tighter. “Was?”

“Was.”

The man leaned over, letting Tommy fall into him. Tommy set his head on Wilbur’s shoulder, the man hooking his chin over his forehead. “I'm sorry. He sounded like a great man.”

“He was. I miss him every day.”

Wilbur ran a hand through Tommy’s hair. It was weird. Tommy was very tired. Not  physically– but emotionally and mentally. He wasn’t quite sure what to make of their relationship. It seemed to jump from entirely too tense to strangely comfortable. Maybe in these moments Tommy was simply too exhausted to think about all the  implications. It wasn't  Wilbur Stark it was just Wilbur, who wanted to comfort him. Wilbur who had plenty of trauma on his own that needed to be worked out.

There was still a part of him that wanted to curl into a ball and die from the facts of his situation. Another was too scared and desperately wanted to cling to anyone at all. Conveniently, there was someone he could curl into and cling onto at the same time. Inconveniently, that was the very person he wanted to hide  from.

Tommy buried his face into the man’s neck, wrapping one arm around and gripping his shirt. The sudden movement seemed to stun the man, but he quickly adjusted to the new found clingy teen. 

Talking about Sam was always hard. The constant weight on his shoulders was infinitely more heavy when he actually  recognized it. When the thoughts swarmed his mind and caused it to break apart.

Sam was dead. Sam was dead because he was  selfish. 

He took a deep, stuttering breath. He couldn't exactly  reveal that to Wilbur. Wilbur would ask too many questions, and it would lead to a reveal Tommy was nowhere near ready for.

Instead, he accepted the sweet touches running through his hair. Instead of focusing on the mind numbing thoughts, he focused on the way the fingers filtered through each tangle.

“He’d be proud of you, y’know?” Wilbur said.

Tommy stayed silent. 

“He’s proud.” 

And the worst part was, Tommy knew it was true. Even if Sam knew the whole and complete truth, he’d be proud of the person Tommy became because of it.

He’d say something about how to be  good was to change in the face of mistakes. To not let failure drag you down a darker path, but the harder one.

It comforted him as much as it hurt him.

The two sat there for a few moments longer before Tommy got up. The two began to pack again, easing into lighter banter. Wilbur found a few more pieces of merch, but didn't make a big deal out of them for the sake of Tommy’s sanity. They left a few shirts there along with a few pieces of decoration for when Tommy would sleep over.

Then, they made their way back to the living room. 

Puffy had a large photo album on the coffee table, Sally next to her as she flipped through them. Tommy  immediately recognized the book. 

Once again, his embarrassment would be the death of him.

Wilbur saw the photo book, happily abandoning the boxes for the sake of viewing Tommy’s younger photos.

“Ohhhh, and that one was from when Tommy was 7! He had all his friends over and he got cake  everywhere.” Tommy slapped a hand over his face.

He knew that photo. He had cake  all over him.

Puffy continued to show them photos, describing each embarrassing incident behind the creation of them. 

Sally pulled out her phone, snapping photos of each page. “I'm going to recreate this album, if that's okay?” 

Puffy nodded. “Of course! I can even give you guys this and my other binders if that would make it easier to print them out?”

Instead of being part of  that conversation, Tommy decided to just start loading the boxes up. He was sure though, even if he finished before they did, he’d be stuck here until they were satisfied.

He left the apartment with a small smile on his face.