Chapter Text
All sense of confusion at the crash disappeared the moment he realized who fell out of the van. He shot to his feet, sprinted up to the toppled-over van, and dropped to his knees next to Peter.
“Kid?! Hey-hey, I’m here-look at me, come on!”
The kid groaned in pain, and normally Tony would have freaked out at that, but now, he was just relieved that it was a sign the kid was alive. He’d spent half a day not knowing if the kid was dead or not. But seeing him now made all of the nerves in his body go silent, especially when the kid finally turned and looked at him.
“Hey, man.”
Tony actually laughed at how casually Peter uttered those two words. He carefully helped the kid sit up before taking him into his arms. He hugged him as tightly as humanly possible, and felt the kid’s arms come up to hug him almost immediately.
“Oh my god.” He whispered, burying a hand in Peter’s hair. “I thought you-Jesus, kid, where have you been?!”
“Long story.” Peter replied, pulling away from Tony but keeping his hands on his shoulders. “Are-are you okay?”
Of course that would be what Peter said. The kid didn’t care about himself enough to even acknowledge the fading bruises on his face and arms. Seeing that he was even a little hurt made Tony’s blood boil, but he’d have to wait to question Peter about who had dared to harm him. Because he could vaguely hear the sound of someone getting up behind him.
The woman who was still unnamed was slowly getting to her feet, gun still in her hand. Tony positioned himself as much in front of Peter as possible as the two of them got to their feet.
“Oh.” She said. “You’re that kid Ev was talking about.”
Tony pushed Peter even further behind him. He didn’t know how Evelyn had known about Peter, and he didn’t care to find out now. All that mattered right now was making sure Peter stayed safe.
“In case you were wondering,” She said, seemingly to Tony. “She said she’d pay me if I brought you to her. She wanted to kill you for killing her son.”
“Yeah, I picked up that much from the gun pointed at my head.” He said viciously.
She smirked, once again pointing the gun at the both of them. “Doesn’t look like she can do it herself now, and why let the mob down there have all the fun?”
The gun clicked, and suddenly Peter grabbed one of the pipes on the bottom of the van, and used his insane strength to yank the vehicle in front of them right as she fired.
The bullet collided with the metal contraption, and Tony heard the woman swear loudly. He turned to Peter, relieved at both the save and the fact that Peter’s use of his strength meant he wasn’t much worse for wear.
He saw Peter’s cheeks flush red for a moment. “Sorry. I panicked.”
“Stop apologizing.” Tony said, a hand on Peter’s shoulder. “She’s gonna try again. I want you to stay behind me the whole time, okay?”
“But I-”
“ Peter. ”
The severity in Tony’s voice seemed to finally make Peter understand how worried he was. The overwhelming feeling of protectiveness was just like it was right after Peter had returned from Chicago. Even the thought of something happening to him made Tony sick to his stomach, and there was no way he was letting that thought come to fruition. He’d thought Peter was dead twice now. He wasn’t letting the third time be the charm.
When Peter remained silent, Tony nodded to himself and turned around, slipping the hand off of his shoulder. Maybe for once, Peter would actually listen to him and keep himself safe instead of trying to keep Tony safe.
Almost immediately when he came to the other side of the van, the woman was there prepared to shoot at him again. Before she could fire, Tony powered up his gauntlet and took a shot at her. It wasn’t set to kill, but it would knock her out for a good while.
It hit her directly in the chest, and she flew backwards, landing about twenty feet away and not getting up.
That meant both of the women trying to kill him and Peter were down for the count. Hopefully none of the other rioters would come and see what was going on, so he could get Peter and-
Suddenly, a second, very close gunshot rang out from the back of the van where he had left Peter.
No.
Tony rushed back to see Peter and-to his surprise and fury-Evelyn. Her side was stained with blood from where the van had hit her, but she barely seemed to notice. Peter seemed to be trying to wrestle her gun out of her hands, probably mentally debating on whether or not to show what he really was.
But within a second of Tony noticing the scene, Evelyn and Peter had caught sight of them. Before he could react, Evelyn swung Peter in front of her, pressing the gun to his temple.
Pure rage filled every ounce of Tony, not just at Evelyn holding Peter hostage right in front of him. There was an actively bleeding wound on his upper arm. A bullet wound.
Evelyn had shot Peter.
“Get your fucking hands off him.” Tony growled, repulsor powered up. He couldn’t fire it without potentially hurting Peter even more, but it was still good for intimidation.
Peter himself was clearly in pain, blinking much more than usual and staring at Tony with both horror and determination, like he did whenever he was hurt. If Evelyn wasn’t holding a gun, he probably could have taken her out, but any movement made could kill him.
Evelyn laughed. It came out almost as a sob, filled with the hatred and anger of loss and grief. “Perhaps this would be better, Stark. You seem to care about this boy as much as I cared for my son. You should know how it feels to lose someone like that.”
“I said,” He clenched the gauntlet-lacking fist so tightly that he thought his fingernails would make his hand bleed. “Get you fucking hands off of him!”
“Or what?! You’ll shoot me? We both know you won’t. Not if I have-” She tugged Peter somehow closer, smirking. “Him.”
Peter kept his eyes on Tony, and his lips moved subtly as he mouthed something.
Shoot me.
If the situation wasn’t so tense, Tony would have let out a humorless laugh. Did Peter actually think he was going to shoot him to knock Evelyn out? He’d never purposely harm the kid. Ever.
When Tony didn’t show any signs of response, Peter mouthed it again.
Shoot me.
Tony shook his head so slightly that Evelyn didn’t notice. Peter’s face was pleading. It was like he was begging to be more hurt than he already was. Why did he have to be so damn good? Why couldn’t he just put himself first for once and-
All of a sudden, the last thing Tony ever expected happened.
A repulsor beam hit Evelyn in the back, and she suddenly flew forward with Peter. The gun went off, but Tony saw the bullet strike into the ground a few feet away from him.
Thank God.
Instantly Tony powered down his repulsor, rushed up and pulled Peter up. He had pushed Evelyn’s body off of him and was now clutching his arm wound as he winced. “What-what the hell was that?!”
Tony didn’t answer. He instead tugged Peter behind him protectively, holding off from his frantic inspection of the bullet wound in favor of figuring out who had just saved the kid’s life.
The Rescue suit he had designed for Pepper stood a good thirty feet away from them, and the faceplate lifted up to reveal none other than his strong, amazing fiance. Her breathing was heavy and quick, but relief softened her features when she caught sight of Tony and Peter.
“Is that-” Peter started.
“The one and only.” Tony confirmed. The suit opened, and Pepper stepped out, rushing over and wrapping her arms around Tony.
“Damn you, Anthony.” She said quietly. “Can’t you just stay safe for more than five minutes?”
“Would you marry me if I could?” He asked with a small grin.
Pepper pulled away, kissing him gently and quickly. After a moment, she moved behind Tony and hugged Peter. He didn’t hug her back, but Tony could tell it was because of his arm and not because of embarrassment. When Pepper realized this, she pulled back to allow Tony to surge forward and examine the wound.
There was an entry and exit hole, thank god, and it would be bleeding much more if the bullet had struck anything serious. However, it needed to be cleaned and bandaged before it got infected. Tony pulled Peter close, and though the kid didn’t hug him back, he felt him bury his face into Tony’s shoulder. He was clearly exhausted, and Tony wasn’t about to let go of him anytime soon.
“Come on.” Pepper said. “Rhodey and Bruce are here, and we called in what’s left of S.H.I.E.L.D. They’ve already started dispersing the rioters.”
Tony sighed in relief, hugging Peter a bit tighter. “Music to my ears.”
---
Six hours later, Peter was on a bed in one of the few medbay rooms that hadn’t been looted, feeling a lot better than he had when he’d first crashed that van. The bullet wound hadn’t been infected, and with his healing ability it would fade to nothing more than a memory in just a few days. The bruises he’d gotten from being tortured were almost completely gone, but Tony had subtly implied that he would gladly kill the man who had hurt him.
That is, until Peter told him he was already dead.
All while he was being examined by Bruce, Tony was at his side, demanding to know who had harmed him and why. Peter had tried to resist telling him, but Tony seemed so genuinely concerned that he caved after an hour.
As he went over the story, he wondered if he should tell Tony it was Hawkeye who had saved him. He had no idea if in the month between their interactions if his anger towards Tony had died down, or if Tony would even try to speak to him after what had happened. In the end however, he quickly let it slip out that Clint Barton had been the one who burst in to save him.
Tony gaped at him when he got to that part of the story. “I’m sorry, but since when do you know Clint Barton? Aside from Germany, that is.”
“Well…” Peter said awkwardly. “Remember when my suit shut down while I was patrolling last month? That was him. He shot me with this stun arrow thing and asked me where you were and stuff. But I got through to him, I swear! He didn’t hurt me badly or anything.”
The sight of a speechless Tony Stark was a startling one. He didn’t look at Peter for the first time in a while, instead staring down at his hands that were in his lap.
“Um, Tony? You okay?”
“What?” He said, a bit absently. “Yeah, Pete, I’m fine. I just...wasn’t expecting that.”
Peter grinned. “You and me both.”
Tony sighed, his eyes moving to the bandage on Peter’s upper arm. The guilt on his face was evident, and Peter quickly tried to come up with something to get over that.
“It’s not your fault.”
“Of course it’s my fault. I left you alone in that closet, so you could get taken and tortured by those assholes. I left you alone behind that van so you could get shot. I swear to God, I’m never leaving you alone again. I don’t think my mental state can handle it.”
Peter sighed. “I’m sorry, but are you the one who knocked me out?”
Before Tony could respond, Peter kept going.
“Are you the one who hit me? Are you the one who shot me? Are you the one who snapped your fingers three months ago?”
When Tony failed to respond, Peter smirked. “No. You’re not. You didn’t do any of those things, okay? It’s. Not. Your. Fault.”
For a moment, Peter and Tony just stared at each other. Peter silently prayed that this would resonate with his mentor, in hopes that he wouldn’t be stuck to his side for the next twenty years. He didn’t mind Tony’s company, but he also needed his personal space at some point.
Finally, Tony sighed and brought Peter into yet another hug. “You’re too good, kid. You know that?”
Peter hugged Tony back with one arm. “I try.”
“Tony?”
Pepper’s voice interrupted the hug. She was leaning against the doorway, and her face slightly more red than it normally was. A hint of a smile pulled at her lips, but Peter had no idea what it was about.
“Hey, Pep.” Tony said, releasing Peter. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah, yeah.” She said a little too quickly before turning to Peter. “Are you alright, kid?”
“I’m good.” Peter said as confidently as he could. “Much better than I was earlier.”
Pepper nodded, satisfied. “Tony, can I talk to you in the hall for a few minutes?”
No surprise, Tony seemed skeptical to let Peter out of his sight. Peter smiled slightly. “It’s fine, it’s fine. What do you think will happen, I’ll just disappear into thin air?”
Judging by the look on Tony’s face, that probably wasn’t far off from what he was thinking.
“Tony, I’m fine. Go.”
Tony sighed, standing up. He kept his eyes on Peter for as long as possible, until he disappeared into the hallway.
---
Tony wasn’t gone for a few minutes.
He was gone for a whole hour.
It was for a good reason, though. A reason that left Tony’s heart pounding harder than it ever had before. It was one of the most unbelievable things he had ever experienced. And he’d met a talking raccoon.
When he returned to the room, Peter was out. For a second, the paranoid side of Tony took over, and he rushed over to press his fingers to the pulse point on Peter’s neck. There was a steady, normal heartbeat for someone who was asleep, and Tony breathed a sigh of relief as he sat down in the chair he had pulled up next to the bed earlier.
His hand moved to Peter’s hair, and he brushed a stray curl behind his ear. The kid didn’t even stir.
Was this how it would be for him soon? Doing this to a much smaller, and younger human being? Feeling so fiercely protective that he would give his life to keep it safe?
It was.
Pepper had found out while she was in Toronto, just before the riots were reported. She revealed to Tony that she was feeling sick earlier that day and had noticed that she had been late by a few days. She took three different tests, and though all of them had different symbols, they all meant the same thing.
Two pink lines.
A plus sign.
And the last one was the most clear, and most terrifying, of all.
Pregnant .
His soon-to-be wife was pregnant.
That talk in the park three months ago had actually come to be. He was going to be a dad. A real, actual dad.
But for some reason, he felt much less scared than he felt he should. Most parents in this situation would be so panicked they would pass out. But for Tony, it felt...right. Like he knew more than most first time parents.
Because he wasn’t a first time parent.
Since he’d met Peter, he’d unwittingly acted as a parent to him. Trying to keep him safe and happy at all costs. Taking him in when it appeared that there was no one left who cared about him. Everything he’d ever done with or for the kid had been parental.
He was a parent. To Peter.
It shouldn’t have been such a shocking revelation, but it was. Damn Peter and his inadvertent ability to make Tony care about him so much.
He would be a good dad. Because according to Peter, he already was one. If he wasn’t, he wouldn’t have tried to insist that everything that had happened to him wasn’t his fault.
Tony smiled, leaning over and kissing Peter’s temple.
Things were bad now, but they would get better.
Tony and Peter would make sure of it.