Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Peter had just turned 14 on August 10th. It was a different kind of birthday this time, since he only celebrated it with his Aunt May. His Uncle Ben had died in front of him nearly a year ago. But despite losing her husband, his aunt still made sure he had a cake and a present.

«Wow, May, you really didn’t have to—»

«Of course I did, sweetheart. This is your special day and you deserve a lovely one,» she said, hugging him. Peter instantly felt better. His aunt really was the best. Despite all the bills, she made sure he had not only clothes, food, and school supplies—but also love and affection.

Right now, his life was actually going pretty great. He’d gotten a scholarship to Midtown High, where he met his best friend Ned Leeds. The two of them became inseparable thanks to their shared love of Legos and Star Wars (and their habit of endlessly sending each other memes and talking nonstop about the movies).

He was happy. He was also an excellent student (though constantly humiliated by Flash and his group). But it didn’t bother him much anymore. He never fought back physically—only with words. He would never be a bully. And the teasing wasn’t just about him not having many memories like the others… it was also about something else.

«So, your parents died?» someone had asked.

«Yeah, they were in a plane crash right before I turned five. I've lived with my aunt and uncle since then,» he always replied.

It was always the same question, and he always gave the same answer. The memory was blurry—when he was told his parents had passed away. They were supposed to be gone only for a short trip, and he remembers his Uncle Ben crying that morning when they found out. Aunt May had been in complete shock, tears running down her cheeks.

He remembers how they called him to the living room, and he was still in his favorite rocket-themed pajamas.

«Petey, this is a little hard to say, but Mommy and Daddy aren’t coming back. They're on a very special mission now to protect you from above,» Ben had told him.

«They died?» Peter had asked, as if it were nothing—because he had overheard something already.

His aunt and uncle froze, looking at each other, then back at the little boy with innocent eyes—no sadness or tears in sight.

«Yes… but it's okay, sweetheart. You’re going to stay with us, alright?»

«Okay. Can we have breakfast now?» he had said so calmly.

According to May, she and Ben assumed he was in shock from the sudden news. But Peter spent the rest of the day playing with his toys and watching TV in Ben’s arms like it was a normal day. Even at the funeral, he didn’t cry. People thought he was just being strong. Many offered him condolences, asking why he wasn’t crying or looking sad.

«It’s sad they’re gone, but I just don’t feel like crying,» he would say, trying to pull off the tie around his neck.

Some thought he just hadn’t processed it properly—being so young. But as the days passed, and even on the monthly anniversaries of his parents' passing, Peter remained the same.

At least his aunt and uncle had always been there for him, supporting him through everything. To Peter, they felt like his real parents. His memories of his biological ones were vague anyway—they were always too busy or gone before he woke up. But it didn’t matter, because he had his aunt and uncle.

After Ben’s death, everything changed. That was when Peter really cried—for the first time. He held Ben’s bloody body in his arms, sobbing. He felt responsible. If he hadn’t run off, maybe Ben wouldn’t have been shot. He remembers not wanting to let go of the cold body. He and May cried together, clinging to each other. The funeral was a nightmare, with Peter sobbing and blaming himself.

«It’s my fault Uncle Ben is gone, Aunt May, I’m so sorry!» he cried that night.

May sat him on her lap, hugging and rocking him.

«No, sweetheart, it’s not your fault. So don’t ever say that again. You didn’t do anything wrong. I don’t want to hear you say that anymore,» she said, kissing his forehead. «It’s all over now. I’ve got you,» she whispered.

As time went on, bills piled up. Peter wanted to help her, even offering to get a job, but May always told him no—that his only job was to study.

«But I can work! I’m not a kid, May!» he protested one night while helping wash the dinner dishes.

May glanced at him. «Honey, my answer will always be no. And yes, you are still a kid. It’d be illegal to let you work,» she said with a light laugh.

«I could just say I’m twenty. I mean, I kinda look twenty—and check these out!» he flexed his tiny arms, trying to show off non-existent muscles.

May laughed, ruffling his curls. «Sorry, still a no. So don’t even try going behind my back, Peter.»

He'd pout and try to look serious, but to her, he was still the little boy she’d raised.

What she didn’t know was that, just before Ben’s death, Peter had gotten powers from a spider bite. It happened a few days before everything changed.

«This is insane,» he had said the first time he found himself stuck to the wall of his room—his physics homework stuck with him.

From then on, he made a homemade suit from an old red and blue pajama, stitched on a spider symbol, and attached some goggles to a mask so he could see. He also designed web-shooters, crafting his first artificial web fluid during chemistry class.

«Oh my god, this is awesome!» he had screamed joyfully the first time he swung through the buildings of Queens.

Ever since then, he’d been helping out—rescuing kids, helping seniors cross the street, saving alley cats (and always ending up scratched), stopping small robberies… he loved it.

«It’s my duty as your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man,» he always said.

He hated lying to May, but he knew she'd freak out if she ever found out. She’d probably ban him from being a hero at all, afraid of what could happen to him. Still, part of him did it out of anger at the police who hadn’t arrived in time to save Uncle Ben. Peter didn’t want anyone else to lose someone they loved.

So yeah, his life was weird thanks to his powers—but it was a good life because he was surrounded by people he loved.

Things were about to get even weirder after that day.

He was arriving at the apartment when he saw a sleek black Audi parked outside. It looked expensive and amazing, so he took a photo to send to Ned, then headed upstairs.

He came out of the elevator, holding a bulky old DVD player in one arm, found his key, and unlocked the door. He didn’t expect to see someone who would change his life forever.

"Hey, May," he called.

"Hi… how was school?" his aunt asked.

He was halfway to his room. "School was fine. Hey, there’s this weird car outsi—" he froze when he looked forward.

On the couch sat Tony Stark, holding a slice of walnut bread. Aunt May sat beside him, smiling nervously and motioning toward the man beside her.

"Oh, Mr. Parker," Tony Stark said.

"What are you doing here? I mean—hi—I’m P-P-Peter," he stammered nervously.

"Tony," the man replied.

Apparently, Mr. Stark was there because Peter had been selected for the September Foundation scholarship. He even referenced the emails Peter had gotten (wink wink). May asked why Peter hadn’t told her, and he admitted he wanted it to be a surprise.

Later, they went to Peter’s room (where Stark promptly spat out May’s walnut bread) and talked. During the conversation, Stark discovered Peter’s suit—which he called pajamas (which, to be fair, it kind of was). They talked about Peter’s powers, and what motivated him to get out of bed and become Spider-Man.

Eventually, they were sitting on the bed, and Stark put a hand on Peter’s shoulder.

"Kid, would you like to visit the Tower?" he asked.

Peter looked at him, waiting for him to laugh. "You’re joking, right?"

"Do I look like I’m joking?"

"...No," Peter said in a low voice.

Tony stood up. "Alright then. Someone will pick you up tomorrow morning. I’ll talk to your lovely aunt so she doesn’t freak out." He held out his hand.

They shook hands, though Tony winced at the sweaty grip and Peter mumbled an apology.

Tony spoke with May, who hesitated but agreed—on one condition: that Peter not come back hurt or do anything reckless, or Stark would deal with her. He nodded, but took that warning seriously. Something about her voice made it very clear she wasn’t messing around.

___________

Tony got into his Audi unnoticed. He didn’t want to deal with anyone right now. His mind was still replaying the kid’s face. As he drove, he got a call and answered it.

"Hey, darling, I’m driving," he said.

There was a pause. —...Did you find him?—

Tony let out a deep sigh, eyes still on the road. "Yeah... I found him. And I swear—it’s him, Pep."

—I think so too… I’ll be waiting in the room to talk, okay?—

"Of course. See you soon, dear," he said, and ended the call.

As he drove, Tony couldn’t help thinking that maybe—just maybe—a part of his life was closer than he’d ever imagined. And maybe, just maybe, he could finally find the peace he’d

been searching for.

Chapter Text

Early in the morning, Peter was up earlier than ever on a Saturday. He did his morning routine, got dressed in his best clothes, and found his aunt making breakfast—completely surprised that her nephew was awake at 5:26 a.m.

"Good morning, Aunt May!" Peter said cheerfully, giving her a kiss on the cheek.

May chuckled. "Well, someone’s excited."

"Of course I am! I’m going to the Tower today! Going for a scholarship!" he said happily—lying about the scholarship part.

May sighed and looked at him. "Look, sweetheart, I’m not a big fan of that Tony Stark guy, but I also don’t like leaving you alone for too long, so that’s why I agreed—"

"Wait, so you only agreed because you didn’t want me to be alone?" he tilted his head.

"Don’t interrupt. What I’m trying to say is... at least you’ll be in someone’s company—and an adult, at that." She sipped her coffee.

Peter crossed his arms. "You do know Ned comes over, right, May? I’m not alone." He grabbed his breakfast and moved to the table.

May began washing her now-empty mug. "That’s not what I meant, Petey. I just don’t trust the safety around here, you know how Queens is... and I really don’t want anything to happen to you."

Peter paused, lowering his toast with jam and looking at her. He understood—of course he did. She worried about him constantly, and her biggest fear was something happening to him while she was away at work. It was just the two of them now.

"I know, May... but I promise I’ll be okay. I always am," he said, taking another bite of his toast.

She smiled and dried her hands. "I know. I just worry because I love you." She walked over to him.

"I love you too, May."

She smiled at him again, then glanced at the wall clock. It read 5:40 a.m.

"Oh no, I’m running a little late—again," she said, grabbing her purse. "Promise me you’ll call or text every minute—or if anything happens, I’m coming straight to get you."

Peter nodded. "Okay, not every minute, May, don’t exaggerate. But I’ll keep you updated, don’t worry. You should go before you’re even more late." He gave her a reassuring smile.

She stared at him for a few seconds. "Alright. I love you. Be careful." She picked up her keys and headed out the door.

"Love you too, May!" he shouted just as the door closed.

He took his time finishing breakfast. It was 6:19 a.m. He had really woken up way too early—especially considering he’d received a message (and still had no idea how they got his number) saying someone would be picking him up at 8:00 a.m.

"Maybe I should get a little homework done..." he said to himself and headed back to his room.

____________

It was 7:50 a.m., ten minutes before eight, so he organized his desk, fixed his hair again, and tried to stay as calm as possible—until his phone, which was charging, vibrated with a message:

Come down, kid. I’m waiting.

Peter noticed it wasn’t quite eight yet, but he quickly slipped his phone into his pocket, packed his charger into the backpack he was bringing to the Tower (just in case, along with a few things he might need), grabbed his keys, and stepped out of the apartment to take the elevator.

When the elevator stopped and the doors slid open, he stepped out and immediately spotted Harold Hogan—better known as Happy Hogan, Tony Stark’s bodyguard. Just like in the photos he’d seen, the man looked as serious as ever.

“I thought Mr. Stark would come,” Peter muttered as he walked closer.

The man looked him over from head to toe. “Peter Parker?” he asked seriously.

“I think I am,” Peter shrugged. “Nice to meet you,” he said, extending a hand.

Happy glanced at the hand, then back at the kid—and opened the door to the Audi.

Peter shoved his hand into the pocket of his hoodie. “Alright then,” he mumbled and climbed into the Audi, where Happy then closed the door for him.

Peter placed his backpack on his lap and pulled out his phone to text his aunt that he was okay. Then he looked around, examining the sleek black and very luxurious Audi that belonged to Mr. Stark. He saw Happy get into the driver’s seat and put an earpiece in, seemingly talking to someone.

“I’ve got him. He’s here with me… Alright,” Happy said. He adjusted the rearview mirror and glanced at the kid, who was watching him. “Comfortable?”

Peter nodded slowly, lowering his gaze to his sneakers.

Happy put on his black sunglasses and started to drive. Every now and then, he glanced at the teenager quietly staring out the window, hugging his backpack.

____________

As the Audi pulled into the garage, Peter felt more nervous than excited—after all, it was his first time at the great Tower. When the car door opened, he flinched slightly.

“Out,” Happy ordered.

Peter got out as quickly as he could, slinging his backpack over his right shoulder. He looked around in awe at the variety of cars Mr. Stark owned—different models, colors, even some vintage versions that most people didn’t have.

“Let’s go, kid. Don’t want you getting lost,” Happy said, giving his shoulder a nudge.

Peter looked at him and nodded, following him toward the elevator that would take them to Mr. Stark.

The teen stood next to the bodyguard, about to ask something when a cheerful voice came from the ceiling.

“Happy Hogan and Peter Parker, a pleasure to have you here,” said the upbeat, unfamiliar voice.

Peter froze for a second, then turned to ask who had spoken—but Happy beat him to it.

“That’s the Tower’s AI assistant,” he explained. Peter figured it must be FRIDAY, based on what he’d heard before.

“Uh, Mr. Hogan... how did you get my phone number?” Peter asked after a short pause.

Happy glanced at him sideways. “Private info, kid. Or maybe the boss will tell you,” he replied. “And don’t call me ‘Mr. Hogan.’ Sounds like I’m with my mom. Call me Happy—it’s better.”

Peter chuckled under his breath. “Alright, Happy.”

After a few minutes, the elevator stopped and opened into a workshop. AC/DC was blasting, machines and tools surrounded the space, and Tony Stark sat with his back to them, apparently working on something.

“FRIDAY, lower the music,” Tony said. The music stopped. “Boss, the kid’s here,” Happy announced.

Standing behind Happy, Peter watched as Mr. Stark turned in his chair to look first at the bodyguard, then at him.

“Alright, take the day off, Happy,” Tony said, wiping his hands.

Happy headed back to the elevator but gave the kid a pat on the back before leaving, making Peter flinch a little.

“Hey kid, how was the ride with grumpy ol’ Happy?” Tony asked as he walked over to him.

Peter nodded. “It was good. Happy’s great company, actually. Thanks.”

“Nice compliment,” Tony said, patting his shoulder. “Okay, so I called you here because I need your help with something I’m still working on.”

Peter’s eyes widened in surprise. He looked up at him slowly. “You seriously need my help?”

“I read your file. You’re a genius kid. That’s why you’re at Midtown, right?” Tony led him toward a chair next to his.

“Wait—how do you know about my file?”

“FRIDAY, would you be so kind as to show our guest what you found?” Tony asked, sitting back in the chair he was in before.

A hologram appeared showing Peter’s photo, full name, and personal info. His school record detailed how he’d earned the Midtown scholarship thanks to his advanced intelligence and responsible behavior.

“FRIDAY got all that? How?” Peter asked, amazed, looking at him.

Tony waved a hand and the hologram disappeared. “Well, FRIDAY’s an AI far ahead of her time, kid. And she was made by a genius—me. I’m sure you could design your own AI someday.”

Peter lit up. “Really? I’d love that!”

“Great. Now, Spider-Kid, help me with this project I’m working on. The blueprints are right there—you can use them to guide you.”

“Yes, Mr. Stark,” Peter said happily.

Tony handed him a pair of safety goggles. “Always wear protection, kid. I don’t want your hot aunt to kill me—I’m way too important to die.”

Peter laughed. “Don’t worry, I got it,” he said as he put on the goggles.

Tony nodded and started working on his side of the table, glancing over occasionally at the kid, who studied the blueprints with intense focus before picking out the right tools.

He really was a genius—just like him.

____________

That afternoon, they’d ordered pizza (though Tony had told Peter to let his aunt know they ate something healthy). Peter, meanwhile, was eating upside down on the ceiling, showing off one of his powers to Tony.

“So,” Tony said, placing his slice back in the box, “you climb walls and sit on the ceiling without the blood rushing to your head?”

Peter nodded with a mouthful of pizza, quickly chewing to reply. “Yeah, crazy, right?”

Tony watched him for a few seconds and nodded. “Kid, you're a mystery waiting to be solved.” He noticed a slice of pepperoni fall onto the table. “And clumsy.”

“Oops, sorry Mr. Stark.” Peter dropped from the ceiling and landed lightly on the floor. “I’ll clean it, I promise.”

“Leave it, it’s just pepperoni. Not blood,” Tony replied, taking another bite.

Peter nodded slowly, but his expression shifted at the word blood. He quietly finished the slice he was holding. Of course, Tony noticed the change in his demeanor.

Tony frowned, watching him. “Kid, you alright?” he asked, sounding concerned.

Peter quickly moved to the workbench. “I was thinking... maybe we could add a parachute to the design? Could be useful, don’t you think?” he said, clearly trying to change the subject.

Tony rolled over on his chair and gave it some thought. “That might actually be a good idea. I’ll take it into consideration.” He looked at him. “I don’t think I was wrong about you—you really are a genius kid.”

Peter blushed. “Uh, thanks, Mr. Stark. I just made a suggestion. Didn’t think you’d actually consider it.” He looked down at the floor.

“A great suggestion. That’s what I like—brilliant minds.” Tony patted his shoulder.

“Boss, sorry to interrupt,” FRIDAY spoke up, “but your children are asking for you. Should I let them know you’re busy?”

“Tell them I’ll be out soon, FRIDAY. I’m just a little caught up with a spider,” he said, winking at Peter.

Peter froze for a second—he remembered Mr. Stark had kids. Two, actually. They were probably upset he was here with him instead of them. Now Peter felt nervous.

“I think I should go, sir.” He walked over to grab his backpack and slung it over his shoulder.

“Hey, no no no—hold on, kid,” Tony said, stopping him. “If this is about my kids, don’t worry. They’re patient. And you’re not leaving alone.”

“Happy could take me.”

“Remember I gave him the day off?”

“Right.” Peter shrugged. “Then maybe I can take the subway nearby. Don’t worry.”

“Absolutely not, kid,” Tony sighed. “I promised your hot aunt that nothing would happen to you and that you’d get home safe.” He grabbed a sweater he always kept nearby. “So, if you want to leave—let’s go.”

Peter tried to stop him. “No no no, Mr. Stark, it’s okay. I can just take the subway home, really. You don’t have to—”

Tony sighed and gave him a serious look. “No. I’m taking you, kid. No excuses, and no arguing. Got it?”

Peter went quiet and nodded slightly.

“Walk,” Tony said firmly, and Peter followed him into the elevator. FRIDAY guided them down to the garage.

“I guess we’re taking the same Audi you came in,” Tony said as they stepped out.

Peter nodded, eyes once again scanning all of Stark’s incredible cars—each one unique and very... Stark.

Someone tapped his shoulder, making him flinch.

“Hey, relax, Spiderling,” Tony said, motioning toward the back of the car, which was already open. “Hop in.”

Peter quickly climbed in, placing his backpack on his lap again. He took out his phone and texted his aunt.

---

May:

How’s everything, dear?

I’ll see you at 8 at the latest.

Wanna eat out tonight?

Peter:

All good, Aunt May.

Yes! Can we go to the Italian restaurant?

May:

Of course! You can tell me all about your day with Stark.

Peter:

Sure, see you in a bit.

Mr. Stark offered to drive me home.

May:

Alright, see you then!

Peter:

Okay :) 

---

Tony glanced at him in the rearview mirror. “Texting your aunt, kid?”

Peter looked up and quickly put away his phone. “Yeah, Mr. Stark. I was just letting her know you’re taking me home.”

Tony nodded. “Does May cook?”

“Every now and then,” Peter said with a slight smirk. “But mostly we order food or eat out. We’re going to an Italian place tonight—it’s one of my favorites.”

“Oh, you like Italian food?”

“It’s delicious. Great flavor,” Peter said, clearly excited.

Tony grinned. “Not to brag, but I can cook Italian.”

Peter raised an eyebrow jokingly. “You cook?”

Tony rolled his eyes. “Yes, kid. For your information, I inherited Italian genes from my mom, and she taught me a few recipes.”

“That actually sounds pretty cool.”

“Mhm. One day, when you stay for dinner, you’ll get to try some,” Tony said, eyes still on the road.

“Sure, Mr. Stark,” Peter replied—brushing off the invite, not really thinking much of it.

____________

“Say hi to your pretty aunt and make sure she knows you got here safe, kid,” Tony said as he opened the door of the Audi.

Peter got out with his backpack slung over one shoulder. “Sure, Mr. Stark. Bye!” he waved and entered the apartment building.

Tony watched him go and made sure the kid got into the elevator before getting back in the Audi. He noticed a missed call from Pepper and called her back.

“Hey, Pep, what’s up?” he asked as he started driving.

—Friday told me he left,— Pepper’s voice came through the line. —I thought you were going to convince him to stay for dinner, Tony. At least to meet the kids.—

Tony stopped at a red light. “We’ve got to give him time, right? Let him get used to me first, then we’ll see.”

She sighed. —You’re right. I just... I wish he’d interact with them too. I want to meet him, Tony. I’d even quit my job just to see him.—

“And you will. I promise.” He started driving again. “Still at work?”

—Yeah, I might get home later tonight,— she sighed. —Long day... Tell the kids I want them all asleep when I get back. Especially Morgan.—

Tony laughed. “Sleep is a word that doesn’t exist in the Stark family.”

—I know, and I don’t like it,— she laughed too. —See you later. Drive safe.—

“Of course. And you try to get home earlier, dear.”

—I’ll try,— she said before hanging up.

Tony kept driving, still thinking about Peter—how he really was a genius kid. And if he wanted to officially offer him a scholarship as his intern, he’d have to set things up properly. He’d handle that later. For now, he was just glad he was getting closer to the spider-kid.