Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Tony should’ve sensed something was up with the kid before they got to this point. Hell, he’s had plenty of opportunities, plenty of instances that should have set off warning bells. For all of himself that he sees in Peter, Tony never thought they’d share this. Because it means that he failed.

The first sign comes before he even sees the kid. Before he even talks to the kid, for that matter.

Tony’s been running around the new Avengers compound since move-in day (take two), keeping busy so he won’t think about how empty the whole place feels with most of the team MIA. Granted, Happy’s taken care of all of the logistical stuff, so he really only has to worry about the politics, the press, his lab, and Rhodey.

It’s been pretty quiet on the PR side of things since his engagement announcement to Pepper after Peter turned down the official title of “Avenger,” so really, Tony’s just been cooped up in his lab working on new designs or helping Rhodey out with his physical therapy. It’s one of these nights that he’s lost track of time and sure that Pepper will pop down here any minute to drag him to bed when he gets the alert. 

“Boss,” FRIDAY interrupts, startling him into shocking himself on an exposed wire. 

“Shit!” He takes a breath, shaking out his hand. “Yeah, I know. Tell Pepper I’ll be there in a minute.”

“The alert is not from Ms. Potts.”

Now that wakes him up because if it’s not Pepper lightheartedly threatening him then it’s actually something serious- it’s something attacking their planet again, or it’s someone on their side getting hurt again, and god knows Tony’s list of loved ones is nowhere near as short as he pretends it is.

Immediately, he’s on the move, initiating his suit’s nanotech and running through the possibilities—Pepper’s safe, she’s inside the compound and FRIDAY just said it wasn’t her; Rhodey’s at a conference in D.C. and Happy’s on a date with May, or they’re supposed to be and a quick trace of their cell phones confirms as much. So that leaves-

“Due to the Bed Time Protocol, Karen has accessed our direct line.”

Tony clenches his jaw at those three words because they only apply to one Peter Parker and the last time he’d broken protocol…well, the Ferry Incident is still kind of fresh. And then the rest of the sentence processes.

“Who the hell is Karen?”

“The AI in Spider-Man’s suit.” 

He blinks. The kid’s AI doesn’t have a name because it’s just that: an AI. He sighs. Of course , Peter named his AI. Why is he even surprised?

Shaking his head, Tony focuses on what he knows. The Bed Time Protocol was put in place after the shitshow of move-in day (take one), reading Happy’s report and watching footage of the jet crash—it’s his way of making sure the kid isn’t staying out too late on school nights—which means Peter probably just lost track of time patrolling same as him. Immediately, he feels his chest deflate, somewhat put at ease. But he can never be too sure, so-

“Fri, put me through to- er, Karen,” he sighs.

“Connecting now, boss.” He doesn’t even need to wait for an answer, Karen is linked to FRIDAY so it’s more like a set of comms than a phone call.

When Peter greets him, he doesn’t sound in pain or under any sort of duress, which only makes Tony more sure that this whole thing is a stupid teenage mishap. “Uh…Mr. Stark?” What he does sound is confused and absolutely exhausted. Figures, it’s way past midnight and the kid has school in a few hours.

“Do you kids not have curfews anymore? Pretty sure it’s a school night for you.”

“Oh, right-” Peter takes a shallow breath, clears his throat. “I just, uh, lost track of time, I guess.”

Tony snorts, the last of his worries dissolved. “Yeah, well, I hate to be that guy, but your aunt will have my head if you end up dropping out of high school because of sleep deprivation. Time to call it a night, underoos. Before I make Karen fly you home.”

Peter audibly winces. “Uh, she can do that?”

“Kid, she can do whatever I tell her to do,” he scoffs lightheartedly.

“Right, yeah that- makes sense.” Peter takes another breath. “I’ll head home now. Sorry for bothering you, sir.”

Tony frowns. “Don’t sweat it, spider-boy. I was already up working.” He doesn’t miss the lack of an “it’s spider- man” objection, but brushes it off as a side-effect of still being awake at 3am. 

There’s the subtle rustle of clothing that tells him Peter’s nodding and he makes the executive decision to end the call there and save the kid any more teen embarrassment. But before he can, Peter blurts, “Thanks, Mr. Stark. For, er, checking up on me.”

In that moment, Tony’s chest fills with warmth and some emotion that he refuses to acknowledge, but it’s enough to make him hesitate. “Just trying to break that cycle of shame.” 

Peter inhales softly.

“Say,” Tony continues before the kid can get a word in, “how about you swing by the compound tomorrow after school? Help me out in the lab? I’ll have Happy pick you up.”

“Wha- are you for real?” The excitement in his voice is palpable.

Despite himself, he smiles. “Yeah, kid. I’m ‘for real.’”

“Holy shit! I mean, er, I’ll see you tomorrow?”

Tony hums. “Now get going. Little spiderlings need lots of sleep and it’s way past your bedtime.”

Peter splutters and with a barely contained snort, Tony disconnects.

Time for him to go to bed, too. Before Pepper actually sics FRIDAY on him.

The second sign comes the next day after Happy drops the kid off.

Tony’s elbows deep into the wiring of his newest mark when FRIDAY alerts him of Peter’s arrival.

“Boss,” she starts over ACDC’s Back In Black.  

He hums around the pliers in his mouth.

“Peter is here.”

Tony grunts an acknowledgement as he continues tugging at the wires.

“Boss.”

He huffs, straightening and removing the tool with one hand. “Did the kid forget how to use doors or something?”

“He appears to be lost in the compound. Should I direct him here?”

Tony nearly facepalms. How could he forget? Obviously, Peter doesn’t know where the lab is, he’s only ever been here once before and the man was guiding him with an arm around the shoulder the entire time. “Yeah, Fri, please do.”

“Of course.”

By the time he’s wiped off his hands and ensured nothing was at risk of starting an electrical fire, Peter is stumbling into the lab with that familiar childlike wonder in his eyes. Tony’s gaze catches briefly on the purple crescents beneath them. While he’s not exactly surprised given their conversation last night, he figured the kid’s healing factor accounted for this kind of bruising, too. Guess not.

When he’s finally done gawking at all of the tech scattered around the frankly enormous workspace, Peter meets Tony’s gaze excitedly. “Hi, Mr. Stark!”

Ignoring the fondness blooming in his chest, he closes the distance to place a hand on the kid’s shoulder and guide him toward the work station at the far side of the lab. “Hey, kid, how was school? You make it there on time this morning?”

Peter sags ever so slightly into the touch before he must realize Tony asked him a question. “Oh, uh,” he stutters nervously, “yeah, school’s- fine. I was a little late to first period, but Mr. Adams never takes roll call ‘til the end of class anyway.”

Tony nods, coming to a stop in front of the station. “Good.”

Peter glances between him and the station curiously. “So…what did you want my help on? I’m not- you don’t want me working on one of your suits…do you?” The words come out hesitantly and the growing panic in Peter’s eyes nearly makes him laugh. 

“No, I have a strict policy against anyone not old enough to drive touching my tech,” Tony confirms with a mocking pat to the kid’s arm.

Peter visibly relaxes, nodding quickly. “Wait, then what am I doing here?”

“FRIDAY,” Tony starts, “pull up blueprints on Item 17A.”

The work station whirrs to life in front of them before projecting the blue holographic designs of the Iron Spider Armor into the space above it.

“Whoa,” Peter murmurs, leaning closer. Tony gently nudges him forward and the kid hesitates, glancing back warily, eyes momentarily catching on Tony’s hand against his shoulder. Only when Tony nods encouragingly does he finally move forward, eager fingers reaching out, instinctively pinching and prodding to access every angle and bit of detail. 

Not even ten seconds later, Peter exclaims, “Is this nanotechnology?!”

“Pretty cool, huh?” Tony smirks. “Got it in all the newest models.”

The kid turns back to him with a face-splitting grin. “Mr. Stark, this is awesome!”

He raises an eyebrow amusedly. “Duh, I designed it.”

Somehow, his smile gets even bigger and he’s looking at Tony in that way he does sometimes—eyes all big, brimming with awe and the kind of admiration that makes Tony’s skin itch and guilt pool in his gut because he definitely doesn’t deserve it. So he brushes it off, waves a dismissive hand and nods permissively. “Go crazy, kid- but not too crazy because I’ve still got to get you home to your aunt in one piece.”

Nodding frantically, Peter returns his focus to the hologram, throwing a quick “Thank you, sir!” over his shoulder and leaving Tony to his business.

For a moment, he just observes—the way Peter’s forehead creases with concentration, how his eyes sparkle like all of the answers to the universe are here just waiting for him to uncover them—and wonders if that’s what Pepper or Rhodey or Happy see when they find him down here. As soon as the thought is in his head, he shakes it out. He’s getting too soft for his own good. Besides, Peter’s not like him, not in that way. He can’t be. He’s too good. And Tony will do everything in his power to make sure he stays that way.

The final sign comes at the end of the night, hours after Peter called May to let her know he’d be missing dinner. 

The evening had been full of easy banter, lots of playful jabs from Tony’s end, and twice as many questions and ideas from Peter’s. Tony knows the kid is smart—he’s already pulled enough strings to guarantee him a spot at MIT—but he can’t say he wasn’t impressed when the kid suggested a little tweak to the suit that would maximize the firing speed of his web shooters. And despite Tony’s words from earlier, he let Peter take a closer look at one of his unfinished Iron Man models (with careful supervision, of course).

Now, they’re sitting at a clean work station, empty take-out containers from Tony’s favorite Thai place pushed to the side. Normally, Pepper has to remind him to eat when he’s down here, but something about having a fifteen-year-old around makes him all too aware of fulfilling basic needs.

Speaking of, Peter’s clearly starting to crash, zoning in-and-out of the conversation, eyelids drooping with every blink, body slouching further into his seat. The next time his eyes stay closed a second too long to play off, Tony sends a quick text to May letting her know Peter’s spending the night at the compound and promising to have him home at a reasonable hour the next day. He tells himself it’s only because tomorrow’s a Saturday so he’s got nothing better to do than house a hyperactive teenager who clearly needs the sleep. Plus, the longer Peter’s in the compound, the less time he’s spending out in the city swinging from building-to-building and sticking his nose in business that he’s not qualified to handle.

Once Tony receives approval from May (and a not-so-subtle threat), he stands and moves over to the teen, resting a hand on his shoulder and gently shaking him. 

“Alright, kid. Time for bed,” he says, ignoring the domesticity of the moment. 

Peter hums, half-asleep, before the words seem to process and he jolts upright, shaking his head. “Wait- I- um- what time is it?” The kid rubs at his eyes, blinking a few times before turning to Tony. 

Tony has to stop himself from making a joke with the way Peter looks like a newly awoken puppy right now. Instead, he raises an eyebrow. “Apparently, well past your bedtime. Come on,” he gestures to the lab doors with his head, “up we go.”

Peter frowns, face pinched in confusion. “Wait, but- I gotta- May?” 

Clearly, the kid’s exhaustion is impairing his ability to form full sentences but Tony gets the gist. “Already knows you’re staying the night. Now let’s go.” He gently guides the teen out of the chair and under his arm, too focused on making sure Peter doesn’t fall asleep standing up to notice the way he presses close into Tony’s side. 

As they approach the doors, he softly calls, “Fri, make sure everything’s turned off and locked up. Oh, and turn the heat up in Peter’s room.” Earlier tonight, he had to lend the kid one of his old college hoodies because he got too cold under the AC and hasn’t taken it off since—Tony feels an odd sense of pride seeing Peter with MIT across his chest.  

FRIDAY’s voice resounds through the lab, “Sure thing, Boss.”

As expected, the click of the lock sounds behind them and the lab floods with darkness, leaving the pair alone in the dimly lit hallway. Tony doesn’t waste any time, guiding Peter to the elevator as swiftly as he can manage. With every floor they pass, Peter sags deeper into his side until he’s the only thing holding the kid up. His lips twitch into the ghost of a smile. These moments are rare, the ones where Peter looks as young as he really is. Tony’s never forgotten he’s only fifteen—ever since he extended the invitation to come to Germany- since he first considered it for that matter, Tony’s carried the weight of that decision, the dread of worst-case scenarios and the tireless effort to ensure Peter makes it through college and then some—but with an intelligence rivaling most of the adults he knows and abilities matched by close to none, it’s easy to overlook.

Soon enough, the elevator dings and the doors open to reveal the family room of the home floor (so named because the only other rooms on the entire floor are bedrooms and bathrooms). But when Tony makes to exit, he finds that he can’t because Peter is fully asleep against him. He watches the kid fondly for a moment, takes in the steady rise and fall of his chest and uncharacteristically relaxed face. Then, because his chest feels all warm and gooey in the way he can’t tolerate for long, he hums, “FRIDAY, take one for the scrapbook.”

Her voice comes through the intercom, “Activating Baby Photo Protocol now,” and Tony throws up a peace sign just in time for the security cam in the corner to blink red three times followed by an audible camera shutter. The kid is not going to be pleased about that in the morning.

His amusement is short-lived, though, when he remembers his current situation. He’s got to get the kid to bed, but summoning one of his suits will definitely wake him and he’d rather not initiate whatever super fight-or-flight response is hardwired into Peter’s spider brain. After a moment, Tony huffs a breath and decides fuck it, carefully maneouvering to pick Peter up. Tony’s prepared for him to be heavy—he’s got super strength after all, but Peter’s as easy to carry as a young child and asleep, cradled against Tony’s chest, he looks the part.

Careful not to jostle him too much, Tony makes his way through the family room and down the extensive hallway of bedrooms (the original design plan accounted for every member of the team and Tony didn’t have the heart to change it; besides, if things work out with the accords the way he hopes, they’ll come to good use). Eventually, he reaches the door with the little spider emblem on it.

“Underoos.”

The lock clicks and Tony shoulders the door open, struggling to keep Peter steady and clear of the doorway as he enters. Outside of the blue bed sheets with little cartoon spider-mans all over them and the framed photo of the two of them holding Peter’s Stark Industries Internship certificate—it’s a copy of the one he keeps on a shelf in his office—the room is barren. He figures the kid will eventually decorate it with Star Wars posters and legos or something.

Once he’s by the bed, Tony nudges the covers aside with his knee and gently lays Peter down, taking off his shoes before pulling the covers up to his chin. As he’s pulling back, he pauses, hesitates, because he can barely remember being tucked into bed. A warm palm against his cheek, a kiss on the forehead, an Italian lullaby—they’re all barely glimpses and most of the time, he isn’t sure they’re even real. But before he can think too much about it, Tony brushes a hand through the mess of brown curls on Peter’s forehead, whispers “Goodnight,” and heads to his room.

Fortunately, he’s tired enough that the empty space beside him doesn’t bother him too much—Pepper’s away for the weekend, dealing with company holdings in Tokyo—and he’s out as soon as his head hits his pillow.

With his luck, Tony shouldn’t be as surprised as he is when he’s startled awake by the alert.

“Boss,” FRIDAY’s voice echoes through the dark of his bedroom and already, he’s on high alert, preparing for the threat he’s sure is about to be revealed. Just as Tony’s about to summon a suit, she continues, “Peter appears to be in distress.” 

Words he never wants to hear again.

Immediately, he clambors out of bed, not even bothering with his slippers before rushing out the door. “Is he hurt? What the hell happened?”

“Scans show elevated heart rate and body temperature, shortness of breath, and signs of pain. No injuries detected.”

Tony frowns, biting down his panic. Currently, they’re the only two in the building, but he still has to make sure. “Check for any unwanted visitors.”

The sound of his bare feet against the hardwood fills the momentary silence as he nears Peter’s room.

“The compound is clear, boss.”

With those words, he’s in front of the little spider emblem. “Underoos.” As soon as the lock clicks, he’s shoving into the room, Peter’s name at the tip of his tongue. 

The room is warm. It’s the first thing he notices, like stepping into a sauna, and he vaguely recalls his request to FRIDAY earlier that night. And just as quickly, Tony’s searching for Peter. His eyes fall on the mass of blankets at the far side of the bed, illuminated by a sliver of moonlight through the window. Tucked beneath is Peter’s gasping form, sweat-slicked hair clinging to his forehead, fists clenching the sheets, barely audible whimpers slipping from his mouth. 

The sight is a painful one, but not at all unfamiliar. Because it’s the same thing he’s been dealing with since the Battle of New York- since waking up in a cave with a car battery attached to his chest. And it’s exactly what he was trying to avoid in the first place.

When he first brought the kid on, he knew the risks. That was the point. Keep an eye on him so he’d be safe. So this wouldn’t happen. He’s only fifteen, for god’s sake. He’s got his whole life ahead of him, and already he’s suffering.

“Kid,” Tony whispers, stumbling towards him. He reaches a hand out, hesitating for just a moment before grasping Peter’s tense shoulder and shaking. “Wake up, kid.”

Peter whines, turning his pinched face away.

Jaw clenched, Tony shakes him harder. “Peter, wake up.”  

Peter gasps, eyes flying wide open and immediately jerks away from him, nearly falling off the bed.

“Hey,” he soothes, hands held up cautiously, “it’s just me. You’re okay, it’s just me.”

Peter inhales raggedly, lifting his arms to press his palms into his eyes. Tony gives him a moment to catch his breath, but he only seems to get more upset, chest rising rapidly, shoulders shaking.

“Kid?” Tony asks warily, and he’s so far out of his depth it’s almost laughable.

The teen just shakes his head, curled in on himself, hands hiding his eyes.

As calmly as he can manage, Tony cycles through everything he knows, what Pepper usually does to calm him down in the middle of the night, the little he remembers from when he was a kid and his mother would sing him to sleep. 

Before he can change his mind, he climbs onto the bed and wraps an arm around the teen, pulling him into his chest. Peter’s chest stutters as he finally lowers his arms and Tony’s heart clenches at the expression on his face. Tears spill from red-rimmed eyes over blotchy cheeks and this is the most like a kid Peter’s ever looked.

“I-I’m s-sor-ry,” he whispers hoarsely, shoulders shaking with his near-silent sobs.

“Shh,” Tony soothes, pulling Peter closer. “It’s okay. It’s not your fault.” It’s mine. “Everything’s fine. Just breathe.”

Peter nods jerkily as a strangled sob slips from his mouth, fingers fisting the fabric of his shirt, and Tony feels like his heart is being ripped out of his chest. It’s not fair. The kid deserves so much more than this. He brushes the damp hair from Peter’s forehead and cards his fingers through the curls delicately, relieved when the teen relaxes into the touch.

Tony doesn’t move until Peter’s breathing eventually stabilizes, and even then, he only adjusts them into a slightly more comfortable position, Peter’s head tucked into the crook of his neck.

“I’m really sorry,” Peter whispers, hands fidgeting with the fabric of Tony’s shirt clenched between them. 

Tony takes a deep breath, trying to formulate his thoughts because this isn’t exactly his area of expertise. He’s invented more advanced technology than most can imagine but this? This is unfamiliar territory. This is the comfort of a father that he didn’t have growing up.

“You know, I get nightmares, too.”

Peter inhales sharply, but he continues before the kid can respond.

“Been getting them for years. They got really bad after New York, but I learned how to deal with them.” He clears his throat. “It helps to have someone with you. I think they’d be a lot worse now if I didn’t have Pepper.”

Peter swallows, nodding against his chest. “Um, do they-” He falters, taking a breath. “Do they ever go away?”

Tony hums. “Depends. Some of them do. But others…they stick and no matter what, you just can’t shake ‘em.” He twists one of Peter’s curls around his finger. “It’ll get easier, kid.”

Peter huffs out a wry chuckle. “Can’t wait.”

“Someone once told me it helps to talk about them. I wouldn’t know, of course, but…I’m here. Whatever you need, kid.”

The teen shifts beneath his arms, almost like he’s trying to push himself closer to Tony. He stays silent, lets Peter decide if he wants to share or not. Tony hopes he does, if only so he can better know how to help him.

“Um, I guess, it’s just-” He pauses and Tony can feel him swallow thickly. “It’s Mr. Toomes, Liz’s dad- er, the Vulture?”

Tony hums again, continuing to brush through Peter’s hair. He remembers, of course he does, the man had taken down his jet on move-in day. And he kind of figured the guy had something to do with Peter’s nightmare, anyway.

“Before he got to the jet-” And Tony has to force himself not to tense. This is the part he doesn’t really know about. The kid has never mentioned it before and- guilt churns in his stomach- Tony had taken away his suit, so he doesn’t have any Baby Monitor footage of it either. “He, um- he was at a warehouse and we- we fought.” Tony bites his lip to stop from interrupting because the way Peter’s voice shakes is making him nervous. “I was trying to stop him before he could get to the jet, but…he, um, used the wings to- to destroy the foundations a-and-” Tony inhales sharply, fingers freezing momentarily. “The building, kind of, fell on me…”

Tony exhales slowly, swallowing down his growing rage, fear, guilt, worry- all of it threatening to consume him. He can’t stop the image of Peter buried under tons of concrete from replaying in his mind, can barely handle the guilt of knowing his decision to confiscate Peter’s suit put him in harm’s way— exactly what he was trying to avoid in the first place.

“Kid,” he starts, voice thick with all of the emotions, “I’m so sorry.”

Peter shakes his head. “It’s not your fault, Mr. Stark.”

“Maybe, but I could have done more, I should have done more-”

“You’ve already done so much for me, sir. More than enough.”

It will never be enough. “It doesn’t matter. I’m sorry I wasn’t there.”

Peter sighs, fingers curling tighter into his shirt. “It’s okay, Mr. Stark.” And he must know Tony needs to hear it because he quickly adds, “I forgive you.”

Tony chuckles wetly, squeezing his arm tighter around the kid. Peter sags into the hold, finally relaxing, and Tony resumes carding through his hair. Like muscle memory, the words tumble out of his mouth, a soft melody with even softer lyrics. It’s the only lullaby he remembers, an Italian one his mother used to sing him to sleep. 

Even after he’s sure Peter has fallen asleep, he doesn’t stop. He stays right there, holding him, singing the familiar words. He vows to protect Peter from anything like this happening again, to be there for him in a way his own father wasn’t. Because he’s already failed him once. He won’t do it again.

Chapter Text

“You ready for this, Tones?”

Tony looks up from his glass at his best friend, not able to stop his gaze from flitting down to the braces wrapped around his legs. He turns away, a sour taste filling his mouth. “I was born ready, honey bear.”

Rhodey sighs, braces whirring as he steps up to the kitchen island where Tony sits. “I’m serious, Tony. This isn’t some press conference you can charm your way out of. This is the real deal.”

“I know,” he huffs, then once again more firmly when he catches the look on Rhodey’s face, “I know.” Swirling his drink around, he continues, “I’ve been working toward this for months. More meetings and paperwork than I’ve ever had to do in my life. Trust me, the magnitude of this meeting is not lost on me.”

Nodding once, Rhodey takes the seat beside him. “And what about you?”

“Right as rain.”

“Tony.”

“What?”

Rhodey grasps his shoulder, squeezing it. “There’s a lot of history between you guys. It’s understandable for you to still be upset.”

He grimaces. Tony’s still upset, of course, he is. But it doesn’t change anything. “How I feel doesn’t matter anymore. This is bigger than me, than us. The world still needs the Avengers.” He slams back the remainder of his drink, relishing the burn of bourbon down his throat. “It’s time to get the team back together.”

Tony had waited all of a week after everything went down before he got to work on the Accords. Despite how things had ended between him and Steve, the betrayal that still lingered at the mere thought of the super soldier, Tony knew he had to fix things. Sooner or later, another threat would arise and the world would need Captain America again, would need all of them again. 

And maybe, Tony just wanted his family back, too.

From the beginning, he knew the Accords would need amendments. The U.S. government had never been his favorite entity—or even liked for that matter—and it certainly didn’t need complete authority over Earth’s mightiest heroes. But he also knew that too many innocent lives had been destroyed at their hands. They needed to be held accountable. Thus began the nightmarish task of getting the Accords to a point where the Rogues would sign. And somehow, he had managed it. The papers had been sent over to Natasha and returned a few days later with six new signatures.

Now, it was time to welcome the others back home.

“Tony,” Steve greets, voice steady despite the uncertainty radiating off of the man. Natasha and Sam stand at his shoulders, Wanda having taken her spot beside Vision. Though Clint and Scott had both signed, the former decided to remain in retirement while the latter got back to whatever it is he does as Antman. Bucky had apparently dropped off the face of the earth, but Tony has a sneaking suspicion the king of Wakanda had something to do with that.

Tony nods curtly, clenching his hands clasped behind his back. “Cap.”

“I’m sorry about the way things happened, I am. But you know why I couldn’t sign those papers.”

Tony flexes his jaw, glancing away. “Well, they’re signed now, so why don’t you guys get settled in. The bedrooms are down the hall, there’s a bathroom at each end. Training room and pool are downstairs. FRIDAY can answer any questions.”

Recognizing that as the end of the conversation, Steve exhales a breath and heads down the hall, Sam in tow. Wanda sends him a tight smile before pulling Vision after them. 

“It’s good to see you, Tony.”

He spares a glance at the spy, lips twitching up at the corners. “Yeah, you, too.”

Nat gives his arm a gentle squeeze as she passes, following the rest of the group.

“That went surprisingly okay,” Rhodey says, slinging an arm over Tony’s shoulders.

He huffs a laugh, pushing the man off of him. “We’ll see how long the peace lasts.” 

He hoped, for all their sake’s, it was longer than he expected.

“Boss,” FRIDAY interrupts as he fiddles with his newest nanotech model, “Peter has arrived.”

Tony can’t help the way he perks up at the alert. After the night Peter had his nightmare, Tony decided to make lab days with the kid a regular thing. He told himself it was just to keep a closer eye on him, but Pepper called bullshit after she had to drag the two of them up to the kitchen for dinner. “You love that kid and don’t try and deny it. I know you, Tony.” So now, every Wedneday and Friday, Happy picks Peter up from school and brings him to the compound to spend the evening in the lab with Tony. The kid had nearly exploded when Tony first brought the offer up, claiming it was time to make his Stark Industries Internship a real thing.

But as the weeks passed, Tony came to enjoy those sessions more than he expected. Peter was wicked smart and he seemed the make the whole place brighter with all of the excitement and carefree joy he constantly radiated. It was refreshing, to say the least, and a good distraction from all of the politics he was constantly dealing with.

“Send him down, Fri.”

“Peter seems to be distracted at the moment.”

Tony frowns, putting his tools down. “What does that mean?”

“He is engaged in conversation with Wanda and Natasha in the family room.”

Shit. He forgot to warn the kid the Avengers are back at the compound. Hopefully, the kid has enough sense to explain himself through the internship and not give away his identity. Spiderman is technically still a vigilante and Tony is doing everything in his power to keep him away from the Accords mess. He’s still just a kid.

“Right, tell him to meet me down here when he’s done.”

“You got it, boss.”

Ten minutes later, the door to the lab buzzes open and Peter steps through, his usual smile a little odd beneath the confused furrow of his brows. “Hey, Mr. Stark! Did you know the Black Widow and Wanda are in the compound? I thought they were fugitives?”

“Hey, kid,” Tony greets, walking over to the teenager. “That’s on me. We’ve got some catching up to do.”

“So, Peter.”

Tony glances at Nat through his periphery, before returning his attention to the smoothie he’s in the process of making.

“Is that the kid I heard leaving here last night?” Sam asks, sliding into the stool beside Nat. 

“His intern,” she explains, eyes firmly locked on Tony.

Tony ignores her, pressing the blend button. A minute later, he pours the drink into a glass and pops a metal straw into it, finally turning around. “You got a problem with my intern?”

“No, not with him. Peter’s a cute kid. More so that you’re allowing a random teenager into the Avengers Compound with four former fugitives staying here.”

Tony rolls his eyes despite the minor acceleration of his heart rate. “The kid’s been my intern for months now, he’s been here plenty of times before you guys moved in. What’s the big deal?”

The super spy narrows her eyes, scanning him carefully.

“As long as he doesn’t try to steal Redwing as a souvenir,” Sam shrugs, snatching a piece of fruit off of Nat’s plate, “we won’t have any problems.” 

She smacks his hand, but keeps her eyes on Tony.

“Don’t worry, I’m his favorite Avenger. If he’s stealing anyone’s stuff, it’s gonna be mine.” Tony smirks.

“That’s not as reassuring as you think it is, Tony.”

With a final eye roll, Tony struts past them toward the elevator. Maybe he should warn the kid to be more careful around everyone, especially Natasha. If anyone is going to figure out that he’s spiderman, it’s the Russian assassin-turned-spy.

When Happy drops Peter off on Friday, Tony’s in the family room with the rest of the Avengers, getting ready for a movie night. Steve had been the one to suggest it, hoping some casual team bonding would loosen the tension between everyone. As much as Tony wanted to abstain, mostly out of spite, he knew the man was right. Baby steps. 

He’d been worried to tell Peter, thinking the teen would be upset about losing lab time, but he’d just responded to the text with movie night sounds awesome, mr. stark!!!!! what are we watching?? and a string of emojis Tony had tried all of two minutes to decipher before giving up.

When he’d explained that they hadn’t chosen yet and no one had anything particular in mind, Peter had practically begged them to watch Star Wars. Steve was the first to agree since the franchise was on his list of pop culture items to catch up on. Natasha remained impartial, Sam agreed as long as they started with Episode IV, Wanda and Vision agreed out of curiosity—the former about the Force and the latter about the sci-fi tech—and Tony, of course, couldn’t say no to his favorite intern, especially after canceling on him. So A New Hope it was.

The elevator dings open and Peter bounds into the room, clutching at his backpack straps. Tony told him to pack an overnight bag since it was the weekend and he could just crash at the compound—he made sure to text May about it, too, in case the kid forgot; he was already scarred from the last angry lecture she gave him after finding out Peter was spiderman.

“Hey, kid,” Tony greets, “go put your things down then come join us on the couch.”

“Hi, Mr. Stark! And everyone else!” With a small wave, he turns to walk down the hall.

Before he can get too far, Tony adds, “Just take any of the unclaimed rooms, FRIDAY will let you in.” If they saw him going into spiderman’s room without any issues, they’d definitely piece it together.

As if realizing the same thing, Peter pauses before shooting him an awkward thumbs up and continuing toward the bedrooms.

“Kid’s got a lot of energy,” Sam notes, brows raised.

Tony shrugs. “It comes with the age.”

“How old is he anyway? Looks young,” Steve asks, glancing at Tony.

The billionaire bites the inside of his cheek, glancing toward the wall behind which Peter had disappeared. “Fifteen.”

Everyone’s eyes go wide at that, even Natasha’s. 

She tilts her head. “I thought you only took on college interns?”

Meeting her eyes, he shrugs. “Kid’s smart. Maybe more than I was at his age.”

Seemingly satisfied with that answer, the spy turned her attention back to TV, picking up the remote to find the movie. 

When Peter returns, the grin is still wide on his face, but he’s no longer wearing his jacket, which means his nerdy Star Wars shirt is on full display. Tony can’t help but smile at it. He pats the spot on the couch between him and Steve. “Over here, kid.”

Peter glances between him and the super soldier, uncertainty flashing over his face momentarily before he hurries over and plops down just as Nat pulls up the film. The teen turns to Steve and whispers, “It’s nice to meet you in person, Captain America, sir.”

Steve chuckles, reaching out a hand for Peter to shake. “Just Steve is fine, Peter. It’s nice to meet you, too. What do you mean by ‘in person’?”

“Oh, well, um, your PSAs are part of the curriculum at my school, so I see you a lot on-screen.”

Next to Steve, Sam laughs out loud. “Oh, man, you have got to get me some of that footage, Peter.”

Peter grins, reaching behind a mildly mortified Steve to fist bump Sam. “You got it, Mr. Falcon, sir.”

“Please, call me Sam.”

Peter nods before leaning forward to say hello to the remaining four in the room. 

“Hey, kid, good to see you,” Rhodey greets, earning a “You, too!” in response.

Wanda smiles gently at him. “Welcome back, Peter. I like your shirt.” Tony has to fight back the coo at the pink flush of Peter’s cheeks as he thanks her, complimenting her hair in return. 

Vision nods at the teen from his spot next to Wanda on the love seat. “I’m glad you’re joining us for movie night.”

“Me, too! We should do movie nights every Friday,” he suggests, glancing back at Tony hopefully.

The man frowns. “What about our lab sessions?”

Peter shrugs. “We can switch it to Monday?”

Tony glances around, taking in the mildly enthusiastic faces of the group and sighs. “Alright, sure.”

“Yes!” Then, turning to Natasha, he pleads, “Can we start the movie now?”

Something like amusement shines in her eyes as she presses play.

Peter settles back into the couch and Tony slides his arm across the back of it, allowing the teen to curl into his side. If anyone sees, they don’t mention it. Satisfied, Tony tries to follow along the quickly moving bright yellow text on the screen. He’s not surprised in the slightest how well the others are taking to Peter. He’s an incredibly likable kid.

Needless to say, two hours and a ridiculous amount of commentary from Peter later, Tony knows the Avengers have pretty much adopted his intern.

Over the next few weeks, the Avengers seem to really welcome Peter into the compound, from stocking up on his favorite snacks to signing one of his t-shirts to bring back for Ned. Things aren’t quite the same as they used to be, but they’re getting better every day. Tony really should’ve known that Peter would be the one to bridge the gap between them all.

But of course, just as things are looking up is exactly when shit hits the fan.

“Mr. Stark!” 

Tony raises his hand just in time to blast a laser through the alien creature in front of him before turning to his left where a blue-and-red spandex-wearing vigilante has appeared out of thin air. “Where’d you come from, kid?”

“Field trip-” Peter exclaims, dodging a piece of concrete and shooting a web at another creature, “to MOMA! What’s the deal with these guys, Mr. Stark?”

Tony takes a second to look around, spotting Steve and Nat on the opposite side of the park handling a group of them while Sam and Vision cover them from above. Wanda stalks around the perimeter, red magic swirling from her fingers and sending the creatures flying this way and that. “No idea, but they showed up guns blazing, so take out as many as you can and get the civilians out of here.”

“On it!” Peter whooped as he swung away, webbing a few aliens before grabbing a cowering woman and whisking her far from the action.

Tony huffs, shaking his head fondly before turning back to the spaceship that won’t seem to stop spitting out these ugly purple things that kind of look like mutated bipedal dogs. “FRIDAY, ten percent to the thrusters,” he commands, taking off toward the ship. If he can take out the source, they can finish the remaining ones off before they’re overrun. He swerves between trees and buildings, blasting as many of the aliens as he can. “Vision, a little backup, buddy.”

“Where do you need me?” 

“We have to take out the ship. Aim for the engines, but try to keep it contained.” Out of the corner of his eye, he spots the red android closing in from above, mind stone glowing with energy.

As the glowing purple space craft grows nearer, he checks, “Underoos, is everyone clear of the area?”

“Just grabbed the last of them!” Peter’s cheerful voice crackles through the comms. “Where do you need me, sir?”

“Take care of the stragglers around the perimeter. Be careful, kid.” The ship is only a few hundred feet away now.

“Will do, Mr. Stark!”

“Fri, scan the ship for entry points.” A blueprint of the ship appears in front of him, crackling slightly before solidifying. 

“The main entrance is congested, I suggest the vents behind the thrusters, boss.”

Steeling himself, Tony curves around to the side of the ship, dipping slightly when a weight attaches to his leg. He glances down, spotting one of the creatures hanging onto his leg, trying to gnaw through his suit. “Yuck,” he mutters, aiming a hand down and blasting the thing to bits.

Suddenly, the ship is right in front of him and he squeezes through the space behind the thrusters, trying not to get too distracted by the unfamiliar tech all around him. Looking around for anything that could possibly be connected to the power systems, he hears the sound of Vision’s laser on the outside of the ship, burning through the metal and making the outer shell glow red. He takes a few more creatures out as he searches the area. “A little help here, Fri.”

The AI scans what appears the be part of the control systems before highlighting a section on one side. “The energy levels of this grid appear higher in this section. I believe it to be connected to the main power supply of the spacecraft.”

Taking a deep breath, he aims both hands at the alien technology, taking a few steps back. “Fifty percent power to the blasters.”

“Directing power to blasters now, boss.” A few moments of whirring later, she announces in her Irish lilt, “Transfer complete.”

“Here goes nothing.” Gritting his teeth, Tony blasts a laser through the machinery until it’s smoking anf then some.

The screen flashes red before FRIDAY alerts, “The ship is reaching critical temperatures. I’d advise a quick departure, boss.”

“Yup,” he grunts, taking a few steps before pushing into the air and swerving back the way he came. “Vision, this thing is about to blow, clear out now!” Right as he exits the ship, a blast hits him from behind and throws him forward, spinning wildly. In the blur through his screen, he thinks he sees glowing red around the blast. Wanda must be containing the blast, aiming it up into the sky. Good, that’s good. He finally comes to a stop when his back slams hard into the side of a building and he drops to the floor. 

Tony groans, rolling onto his back and screwing his eyes shut to stop his vision spinning. “How we lookin’, Fri?”

“Systems are seventy percent intact, power is severely depleted, and you have three bruised ribs.”

Taking a shaky breath, he pushes himself to stand, wincing as the movement pulls at his torso. A creak sounds above him and he freezes, turning to watch the top of the building crack and sway.

“Mr. Stark!” A young voice shrieks and Tony snaps his attention to the vigilante barreling toward him. Peter snaps a wrist out, shooting a web behind him and swinging at him from the side, feet first.

The moment Tony realizes what he’s doing, the “No!” yanks itself out of his throat, raw and horror-filled. But it doesn’t make a difference when Spiderman slams into his chest, hurtling him out of the way just as the building collapses, burying the vigilante beneath the rubble.

“Tony!” Steve’s voice sounds distant as he makes contact with the ground once again, the only thing on his mind Peter Peter Peter. Peter who just saved his life. Peter who just willingly trapped himself under a building for the second time for Tony. He wheezed in a breath, coughing harshly as Steve helped him sit up. “Tony, are you okay?”

“The kid,” he chokes out, “he’s under-” Another cough rattles through him. “Help the kid, please.”

Steve hesitates for a moment, eyes flicking over Tony as if waiting for him to collapse, before nodding and moving toward the rubble. Sam and Vision land beside him as Wanda and Nat run over. 

“FRIDAY, can you connect to Karen,” Tony grunts, stumbling toward the rest of the group.

“Connecting to Karen, now.”

Shallow breaths flood Tony’s ears and his heart squeezes. “Kid, can you hear me?”

“Mr. Stark?” Peter sounds small and scared and younger than he’s ever sounded before and it breaks Tony’s heart all over again.

“Yeah, I’m here, kid, I’m here. We’re going to get you out, just- just hold on.”

“Okay, yeah,” he breathes, “yeah, I can do that.” A sharp inhale. “Please, hurry.”

“Fri, scan his vitals,” Tony orders, still trying to catch his breath. Steve has started pulling chunks away carefully, Wanda following suite with her powers. Sam takes off to do a final check on the alien issue as Nat places a call.

“Heart rate and respiration are elevated. I’m detecting injuries, boss.”

Tony swallows thickly. “Tell me.”

“Several broken ribs, crushed leg, and possible concussion. Peter appears to be losing consciousness.”

“Kid, hey, you still with me?” Tony tries to keep his voice steady, to radiate calm despite the way his heart is hammering in his chest. He can’t lose his kid, he can’t.

“Mm, ‘m here,” Peter mumbles, breathing so shallow Tony can hardly hear it and it strikes a fear in him he’s never felt before.

“Stay with me, underoos, talk to me.”

“‘M tired, Mr. Stark…”

“Tony, I can try to phase through to him, but with the instability of the rubble…”

Tony doesn’t need to hear the rest of the sentence, he already knows what the issue is. They can’t guarantee the concrete won’t shift and injure him further, or worse. But if they don’t get Peter out soon, that will happen anyway.

“M’s’r Star’...” Peter slurs, and something cold ran up Tony’s spine.

Through the tightness in his chest, he chokes out, “I’m here, kid. I’m not going anywhere.”

“‘M s’rry…”

“No, hey,” Tony cries, “don’t you dare.”

The sound of concrete shifting as Steve lifts pieces away only makes the silence that much louder.

“Say something, kid,” he begs, “please.”

Nothing.

“Tony,” Steve sighs, wiping the sweat from his brow.

Tony drops to a knee, heaving a ragged breath. He can’t lose the kid.

“Please, Pete, don’t do this to me.”

He can almost hear it, the others finally making the connection.

“No,” Wanda whispers, hand coming up to cover her mouth, “not Peter.”

“Tony, you didn’t.”

He swallows thickly, fingers curling into a heavy fist at Steve’s tone. 

“He’s just a kid.” Sam’s voice comes out hard, the disappointment and disbelief clear as day. It just makes Tony want to break something because he knows that, better than any of them. He tried so hard. Why did the kid have to do that, Tony wasn’t worth Peter’s life. Not now, not ever.

“I know that,” he cries. “You think I want him out here? You think I haven’t tried everything I could think of to keep him out of this?” Tony shakes his head, snapping his gaze to Vision. “Get him out of there. Now.” The android nods before disappearing into the rubble.

“Tony, what were you thinking?” 

It takes everything in him not to slam his fist into the super soldier’s face. “He’s going to be out there whether I want him to or not. Of all people, you should understand that,” he scoffs. Tony takes a breath, eyes locked on Steve’s. “If I keep him close, I can keep him safe. But he wasn’t supposed to do that. He should never have done that.”

Something about that must mean something to Steve because he sighs. “You’re wrong. He saved your life. That means something. Now you do better. And so do we.”

Before Tony can try and think of how to respond to that, Vision appears, Peter limp in his arms. His must have taken his mask off before he passed out and seeing his face, caked in dust with a trail of blood running down his temple, Tony feels like his heart is giving out. He stumbles forward, tears burning his eyes.

“God, why did you have to do that, kid?” Carefully, he brushes the brown curls from Peter’s face and swallows thickly. “Get him to med bay.”

Vision nods before pushing off and zipping away to the compound.

“Come on,” Nat calls to them, gesturing to the black van that just pulled up, a stricken Happy behind the wheel. “I called Dr. Cho, she’s on the way to the compound.” Without another word, the Avengers pile into the car and Happy speeds them home.

Peter groans, shifting in the medbay bed. Tony waits with bated breath as the kid comes to. Cleaned up, he almost looks worse. Skin white as a sheet, leg engulfed in a cast, cut along his temple now a white scar. Bleary brown eyes blink at him, taking a few moments to recognize him.

“Mr. Stark?” He groans, shifting up in the bed- or trying to, the cast makes it a little difficult. “What happened?”

Tony works his jaw, lips pulling into a tight smile. “You did something stupid.” When Peter just furrows his brows, he continues, “You managed to get another building dropped on you.” Tony runs a hand down his face. “I wish you hadn’t done that, kid.”

“I couldn’t let you get hurt.”

Tony meets his gaze, knowing the kid remembers. For once, Peter doesn’t look shy or uncertain but serious and sure of himself. “My life isn’t worth yours, kid. It never will be.”

Peter frowns, shaking his head jerkily. “No, you’re wrong. People still need you, the world still needs Iron Man.” He huffs a breath, licks over his dry lips. “ I still need you. You- you- you’re my hero , Mr. Stark.”

And Tony can’t do anything except lean forward and pull the kid into his arms, only slightly guilty at the hiss he releases. It hardly makes a difference to the massive weight of it he already carries. He just squeezes the kid tight, one hand running through the curls at the base of his neck. “You’re gonna turn me gray by the end of the year, kid. You know I have a heart problem, right?”

Peter laughs into the crook of his neck, arms wrapped loosely around Tony’s waist. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Then, “They know, don’t they?”

Tony winces. “Yeah, sorry about that, kiddo. Couldn’t be helped. You decided to pass out under a pile of rubble.”

Peter groans. “Yeah, yeah, next time I’ll stay awake.”

“There will be no next times, kid. I’m serious. I’ll put you on house arrest.”

“Okay, Dad.”

Tony chokes on his breath at the same time that Peter seems to realize what he said and pushes away from the hold. 

Eyes wide, face full of horror, Peter blurts, “Wait, no, I didn’t mean- I-” 

Tony exhales, allowing the smile to grow on his lips as warmth blooms in his chest. “Oh, Pete,” he interrupts gently, already reaching out to pull the teen back in. “I love you, kiddo. So much. You’re the best thing I’ve ever done and, however you feel, you’re my kid. Nothing can change that.”

Peter sinks into the hold, hands gripping the fabric of Tony’s shirt like a lifeline. “I love you, too,” he mumbles, voice wet with oncoming tears. “And- I did mean it.”

Overwhelmed with fondness and more love than he knows what to do with, Tony presses a kiss to Peter’s curls. He’s never letting his kid out of his sight again. And he knows with absolute certainty, none of the other Avengers will let anything happen to him as long as they’re around.