Archive of Our Own

Tony will never be able to fully explain what drove (flew) him to Queens the night Steve and Sam escaped with Barnes. He knew the kid was too young, too new to be thrown into a situation as volatile as the Accords, and he argued about it with himself the whole drive over.

It continued as he sat in front of Peter’s building for another twelve minutes.

His stomach ached from where Barnes punched him, and when he thought about the bullet ricocheting off his glasses, he felt an unease unlike anything before. He could also still feel the weight of Natasha’s hand on his shoulder, her voice warm and filled with concern as she asked, “You alright?;” and the sharp pain in his left arm as he said, “Always.”

The pain was real, though whether from a minor heart attack or the fact that his family was being torn apart he couldn’t really tell.

Now he sat in his car, foot idly tapping against the floor while he avoided Happy’s gaze and stared up at the sky. He never looked up at the stars the same way he used to and he realized then that his life had been created from a million Befores and Afters. Before the Battle of New York, he loved pushing the suit as high as he could go, even creating the tech that would someday allow him to fly into space. After New York, he realized that there were things greater than them living in the galaxy, and they were woefully under prepared.

Tony blew out a huff of air between his teeth and shook his head, returning his gaze to the back of the seat in front of him. He could feel the familiar tendrils of anxiety slink their way through his body as he thought about the wormhole, but he took some deep breaths like Bruce instructed and found his heart rate slowing down. The anxiety was still there, but he could breathe a bit easier.

“What’s the plan?”

It was the first time Happy spoke since they got in the car. Tony flew the suit to the States after the escape, and Happy was there waiting for him, car at the ready. Tony tried to brush Happy off saying he could do this himself, but his driver and long time friend could sense that something was different with Tony. Whatever this visit was about, it was obvious it was weighing on the man (along with a million other things).

Tony’s ultimate deciding factor that had him moving to get out of the car, was that he knew he had to have every option at his disposal to avoid a dead Steve Rogers (and Sam Wilson and yes, James Barnes). Tony had watched the videos on YouTube, had studied Peter’s swing and maximum strength output, even calculated the recovery time of some of his more serious injuries accrued on the job, and found that the kid had skills; and with Natasha, Rhodey, Vision, T'Challa and himself as backup, he‘d be okay.

He had thought back to when Wanda and Vision joined them, and they needed countless hours of training to learn and control their skills, and even more time to get used to working with a team. Peter had taken it upon himself to defend Queens with only less than six months to acclimate to the changes he underwent. He studied and honed his skills, all the while attending high school.

“Head up the stairs, though I hope to God they have an elevator,” the exhaustion was evident in his voice, “and check on the kid.” Tony had his hand on the door, and when Happy made to get out of the car, Tony reached across and placed his hand on the driver’s shoulder.

“I got it, I got it. Just...,” he stopped and let his head fall forward, his chin resting on his chest. “Happy? Am I doing the right thing?”

The other man's eyes widened for a fraction of a second and then there was a furrow between his brows. In that moment, that was one hell of a loaded question. “Tony, I know and a hell of a lot of other people know, that you do the best you can with what you’ve got and more often than not, that’s better than most people.” Tony lifted up his head and met Happy's gaze, the other man shocked by the glistening of trapped tears in his brown eyes. “You’re never alone, Boss.”

Tony made his way into the building and took the elevator up.
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Turns out it was the “while attending high school bit that was the one thing that everyone else (Tony included) couldn’t forget: Peter was a kid. The others had given Tony flack for recruiting him, and though it hadn’t come out right away, it was discussed.

Once Rhodes was awake after his fall, he had leveled Tony with a glare that could have rivaled the sun.

“A kid, Tony.” He sighed and shook his head, eyes momentarily closed.

Tony sat next to the bed, one arm in a sling, the other tapping against his thigh while his eyes watched the machine that showed his friend's heartbeat.

“I just,” Tony’s voice broke off and he tapped his fingers on the center of his chest, “I've watched the kid. He's good and with training he’ll be great.”

Rhodes sank back into the pillows, the beeping of the machine the only sound in the room.

“Berlin might not have been the best time.”

 “We needed the help to bring Steve in safely. If it wasn't us then, well…” he trailed off, and shrugged. “And you're not wrong.”

Rhodes watched Tony's face as his eyebrows drew together and his mouth formed a straight line. He was thinking, and by the looks of it still regretting putting the kid in that situation. Rhodes reached over and held Tony’s wrist to get him out of his own head. “So what kind of tech did you think up for him?”

Tony's mouth turned up in the corner and his eyes softened. “Alright,” he clapped his hands together and shimmied his chair even closer to the bed. He tapped the screen of his watch and pulled up the blueprints for the newer Spidey suit. “Take a look at these…”

Rhodes watched as his friend became more animated, hands gesturing widely, voice excited and eyes wide. But as each new display came across the screen, Rhodes heart fell. The suit was a marvel; absolutely engineering genius, and he knew that Tony had put his heart and soul into this kid’s suit. Each piece of tech and protection Rhodey knew, was a result of a nightmare, either dreamed or lived. He turned his head to look at his friend.

Tony must have felt his gaze because he stopped and said, “What?”

Rhodes eyes were filled with admiration and love. “You’re a good man, Tony.” The engineer’s eyes widened and he quickly ducked his head. Rhodes cleared his throat. “Keep going, don’t let this sentimental old man stop you.”

Tony chuckled. “At least you recognize that you’re older than me.” He went back to his presentation.

Peter’s suit for Berlin had the technical bells and whistles one would expect from Tony Stark but it was also minimal to ensure Peter’s understanding and ability to work in that particular event, but it had upgrades that came with experience. The training wheel protocol was meant to do exactly as the name suggests: train and ease Peter into the lifestyle he started creating for himself then got thrown into. He wanted to do right by the kid. “He’s going to be the best of us,” Tony had whispered while typing code.

The reactive shutter eyes allowed Peter to have “spider vision” for combat and assessing situations. It gave him the opportunity to assess all the information his enhanced body was taking in at once and use it to his advantage. Skills very similar to that of Steve’s. Thanks to the serum, his mind was able to catalog and assess the field of combat, therefore he was able to see one step ahead and out maneuver his opponent. And that was what the lenses were meant to do (or at the very least, assist with).

The suit came with over five hundred web options, each one created to fit a specific need, event or circumstance. The ability to find a target and pick a shot in the midst of chaos was one that Clint had mastered probably before he could walk. Tony had witnessed first hand the shots the archer could make, and always found that he was constantly awed by his skill. Peter’s web options were meant for him to be covered in any situation.

(And Tony meant any. He stayed up with Friday for hours thinking of the most likely and then unlikely circumstances Peter could find himself in.
“Yea, but what if he gets asked out on a date and he needs a quick getaway?”
“So he’s going to web up his date, Boss?”
“It could happen!”)

The suit had a parachute and wings, ways meant to help Peter should he ever find himself swinging too high. These two ideas were newer additions that came from the pain Tony still felt when he thought about Rhodes falling from the sky. The bitter taste of fear at the back of his throat and the knife like twist in his stomach will never happen again. He was making sure of it.

The suit also had taser web options and a spidey drone, similar to that of Sam's Red Wing, and the tasers were an homage to the Avengers first arachnid.

The suit was stretchy and comfortable, much like Bruce’s, Bruce-to-Hulk pants, and it also had the added bonus of being stylish (or at least, Tony liked to think so). He also managed to include settings that measured Peter’s physical responses when “in action,” as well as his healing level, an idea that came from watching the Big Guy (Bruce hoped to measure the level of angry that may cause a “Code Green” as well as the Hulk’s other physical outputs. Needless to say the Big Guy destroyed it within three minutes. Tony was working on it.).

Tony created an AI that would listen to Peter and act as a confidant and team mate, one who would be able to help him navigate the new suit and this world; much like Jarvis had been for him. The suit included items like trackers and heaters, additions that Tony knew from experience were just as important as some of the other tech. If he had something like that when he went missing in Afghanistan, or when Steve fell from the helicarrier in DC, or when Nat and Clint went on missions for SHIELD in the beginning, Tony wouldn’t have to worry about knowing where they were; if they were safe. The heater was a newer addition too, and that came from the constant reminder of being left in the cold, quite literally, and worrying about things like frostbite and hypothermia. Left up to Tony, Peter wouldn’t even get a cold.

The kid’s suit has functionality that could mean the difference between life and death. Tony put the same attention into his suit as he did the others. Even with them all scattered, he still had prototypes for a new shield for Steve, stronger widow bites and military grade kevlar for Natasha and Clint’s suits, a suit for Wanda and more streamlined wings for Sam; even a belt for Thor.

They were all always on his mind. He would continue working on all of their gear, having it ready for when they were back.
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About a week later, once Tony returned from Siberia, and his stint in the hospital, Pepper showed up at Avengers Tower. The two sat on his couch in the workshop, her feet tucked up under her grey skirt, holding a mug of chamomile tea in her hands, while Tony had his feet crossed at the ankle, hand absently rubbing against the bruises hidden under his black shirt, coffee forgotten on the table.

“We were worried.” Her voice was warm and soft, so unlike the biting cold and the harsh slam of Steve’s shield against his helmet. He closed his eyes as a shudder went through his body. His fingers pressed against the bruises to anchor him to the present.

They talked for a bit, conversation alternating between where the Accords sat with the international community, what Ross and the remainder of the team were up to and about what happened with Steve and Barnes. It wasn’t what Pepper was looking for, but she knew better now, then to press. She could see in his eyes that it was too new, too raw for him to really talk about.

Later, when the lights were out and Avengers Tower was quiet, Tony stayed in his workshop and let it all out. Friday remained silent during the tears and anger and heart wrenching screams, never once mentioning his elevated heart rate or the destruction he was causing, as he threw wrenches and Iron Man helmets and gauntlets. But once he was done, and had collapsed on the floor, chest heaving, she softly asked, “What can I do for you, Boss?”

He wiped his hand across his mouth, swiped his thumbs under his eyes and let out a deep sigh. He remembered Pepper’s small scowl at the mention of Peter in Berlin and said, “Call Pepper. We have to talk about the kid.”

She came back that night and they discussed next steps. They both agreed that Peter needed a mentor, and they started making a plan fleshing out the things Peter needed to work on; ways he could improve but also be safe. Pepper was the one that mentioned May.

“She's his guardian, Tony. She has a right to know.” She looked down at her hands, folded in her lap. “I know the kind of worry I experienced when you came out as Iron Man,” she held up a hand when he went to speak, “and I know her finding out about him will increase that worry but she'll also know that he has you there; that he can handle this and he’ll have the best back up there is.” She leaned forward and placed a delicate hand on his shoulder. “You can do this, you should do this. But let’s make sure we do it right.”

Tony managed to talk to May but in thin veils of what was really going on. “The Stark Internship” had the double meaning of “Avenging-ish” duties, and when Tony did manage to talk to Peter about it, the kid practically gave himself a heart attack.

“Mr.-Mr. Stark, no. NO! She can’t know.” Peter’s eyes were wide and his arms were swinging out erratically at his sides. “Not right now. And I mean, I’m fine. I’m just hanging around and keeping an eye out.” He sat down in the chair at his desk and gave Tony, what he hoped was a confident smile.

Tony rubbed his hands across his chin and narrowed his eyes at the young superhero. “She needs to know, Peter. Nevermind the fact of the Accords, she has a right to know what you’re up to.”

Peter’s knee was bouncing up and down, a sign of his anxiety and worry. “Just, not yet. Please?”

Tony worried his bottom lip between his teeth and despite the heavy feeling in his stomach he relented. The kid had managed to keep out of any major trouble; rescuing cats out of trees and finding stolen bikes and even stopping an almost fatal traffic accident. He was good, and keeping a somewhat low profile.

Tony tried to follow the same path. He had been working tirelessly on new tech for Peter and the other Avengers after talking with Rhodey and Pepper. He attended press briefings regarding the Accords and the missing Avengers only when Pepper deemed it necessary; he started working with the United Nations to ratify the Accords, and that and Peter’s safety and mentoring took precedence. He wanted to set everything right. It didn’t make him the most sociable of men, but he stopped giving a damn about public opinion when it was aimed at only him decades ago.

Officially taking Peter into the fold had been a huge decision on Tony’s part and he initiated Happy as the point man because Tony didn’t want to become a crutch for the kid; Peter seemed enamored by Tony. The genius, billionaire didn't want that getting in the way of Peter’s life and training. He didn’t need to know the kid was too busy thinking about impressing him, and missing the ledge of a seventy story building.

Little did he know that Peter’s training was going to go a bit faster than he planned.

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When Tony received the notification from Friday that Peter’s tracker had exceeded an aerial height of three thousand feet, he didn’t (overly) panic because he knew the parachute would deploy (although he was definitely going to have a talk with the kid about what the fuck was going on but first, let’s make sure he’s alright). A moment later, Friday explained that even though the parachute deployed as expected, Peter’s vitals were all over the place and he seemed to have fallen into the Atlantic.

Tony immediately ordered her to send a suit, and found he had that familiar bitter taste at the back of his throat. Friday pulled Peter out of the ocean, and had just laid him on the grass when he coughed and spat out water, taking in large gulps of cool air. Upon realizing the Iron Man suit was still hovering in front of him, he climbed onto the honeycomb playground equipment and had the wherewithal to look embarrassed.

After a few seconds of silence Peter asked, “How’d you find me? What, you put a tracker in my suit?”

Regardless of his physical enhancements from the bite, the kid’s vitals were still a little dodgy and his body temperature was still low. What the hell had he gotten himself into?

“I put everything in your suit,” the gauntleted arm raised, “including this heater.”

The steam was a nice touch. “Oh, that’s nice.”

Tony was in India working on smoothing some relations regarding the Accords and thought that Peter was home, safe. He took a sip of his drink and found that his hands were shaking.

“Listen, forget the flying vulture guy.”

Peter sat up straight and narrowed his eyes. “Why?”

“Why? Because I said so.” Jesus, he was starting to sound like his father. The kid had to trust that Tony knew what he was talking about.

The young human arachnid sat up straighter. “I’m ready for more now.”

Tony closed his eyes and ducked his head, the suit emulating his movement even thousands of miles away. “No you’re not.”

There was a slight shake to Peter’s head as he said, “That’s not what you thought when I took on Captain America.”

“Trust me kid, if Cap wanted to lay you out, he would have.” Tony knew that from experience, and it didn’t prove anything. Steve had gone easy with the kid, that wasn't a solid baseline.

The empty Iron Man suit stayed in the air. “If you come across these weapons again, call Happy.”

Tony thought that after the fall from the flying bird dude the kid would heed his warning and advice, focusing on helping the people in his neighborhood, preferably those within a five mile radius. But that had been too much to ask for. And Tony knew now, looking back on it, he should have taken the time to sit with Peter and explain that there were others involved in catching this guy and he could focus on other things, closer to the ground. He should have also explained that Happy did relay Peter’s messages and goings on despite his unhappy response to each of Peter’s calls.

He was still trying to work on this communication thing, and he didn't want to come off as the all knowing father figure who kept the kid locked in his room, with no space to grow. Peter needed to work on his own, but he also needed to take care.

All too soon he realized the tough love should have come sooner rather than later.

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Tony expected Peter would remove the tracker and disable the training wheel protocol. The kid reminded him too much of himself, so he had installed a backup encased in code that ran the normal functions of the suit. While the tracker Happy had access to showed Peter was holed up nice and cozy in his hotel in DC, Tony watched as he traveled out of the city and got locked in one of the Damage Control warehouses, and thought that a few hours in overnight containment might do the kid good.

But of course, he managed to smart-aleck his way out of it and get back to DC, just in time it seemed, for the Chitauri rock to explode and damage the Washington Monument.

“Friday, call our guy at the FBI now,” he yelled as pieces of the Iron man suit were flying towards him.

“Boss, we can’t get involved. There’s protocol to be followed.”

“Son of a bitch,” he spit out through clenched teeth, as the suit closed around him. The helmet just came down to cover his face when a call came in from the FBI.

“Looks like a sticky situation there in DC, Larson.”

“Mr. Stark, we’ll handle this first but know that we will not hesitate to call you should the need arise.”

“You cannot use force on this individual, do you hear me?” His voice was panicked and he heard a thundering in his ears. “Do NOT use deadly force.” He realized the sound was the rush of blood in his head.

“Army and local authorities are already in route and they will handle whatever event is unfolding. But we hear your request and so long as the individual cooperates and does not engage first, we will heed it.”

The call ended and Tony stood stock still as the suit unfolded around him. There was no doubt that Ross would be on his case now. He rubbed his lips together and ran a hand through his hair. Tony knew he could make it to DC in less than three minutes, but that didn't make it any easier to sit and watch as Peter leapt off the point of the monument, flew over the helicopter, and broke through the bulletproof glass.

Tony sank into the chair that had been pushed behind him by Dummy and rested his head in his hands. He had the utmost faith in his creations, new his analytics and measurements and science were also on point, but it seemed that the human factor (as always), doused Tony in chilling fear.

“What the hell am I doing?” He closed his eyes and heard Friday mention that Peter’s suit showed he was alive and safe, and that he saved everyone on that elevator.

“Fucking. Hell”. He wiped his hands over his face and leaned back in the chair. Staring up at the ceiling he said, “Get me Happy.”

They were looking at this the wrong way.

Tony needed to talk to the FBI and tell them what was going on.

He watched as the kids were ushered out of the monument, and footage was being replayed of Peter’s leap off the building. “Friday? Get me Ross on the phone first.”

Friday followed his request and Tony spent the next hour and a half talking Ross off the ledge.

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Naturally, from there, everything went from bad to worse.

Tony had been pacing back and forth in his office watching the scene unravel on live television and he had the suit at the ready, but he knew he couldn't interfere unless called. The repetitiveness was not lost on Tony and he knew it’d all stop today. For right now though, Peter was on his own, with the suit as his only backup.

God, this kid was going to get a talking to once he was back on dry land.

Tony had hoped beyond measure that Friday was just reading the information incorrectly. There was no way, no way Peter interrupted the FBI’s sting operation of the Vulture.

But as he watched Peter get the weapon out of Toom’s hands only for it to explode on the deck of the ferry, he knew she was right. And he knew that it was time for him to go in, regardless of whether he was asked to or not.

Friday fed Tony the current live feed from Peter’s suit and he cursed as he watched as Peter was currently trying to glue together the two halves of the ferry.

“I’m getting too old for this.” He put everything he had into the thrusters.

He could hear the groan of metal and steel the closer he got to the ferry, the screams echoing off the walls and the rush of water thunderous as it took cars out to the river. He spotted Peter, a Christ-like figure in between the gash of the ferry, arms shaking from the exertion to keep it together.

Tony flew to the right side, as Friday reported that it was listing more so than the other and braced his hands up against the metal frame. The eyes of the Iron Man helmet came just above the pane of the window.

When Peter felt the ferry start to push inward again, he turned to meet the eyes of Iron Man.

Oh, shit, he thought.

“Hi, Spiderman, band practice was it?” Tony watched as the smaller thrusters landed on the each side of the ferry, his screen lighting up to show where each one lined up. Once they were all in place Tony pushed forward, letting the smaller versions of his tech stabilize the ferry.

Peter dropped the webs from his hands and swung around, following Tony as he cauterized the metal wound and kept the ferry afloat.

“Mr. Stark! Hey, Mr. Stark!” He jumped out onto the flooded deck and grabbed a hold of the upper railings, swinging himself behind Tony. “What do you need me to do? What can I do to help?” He was a little out of breath but it did nothing to conceal the eagerness in his voice, the undying hope that he could still fix this. Tony knew that feeling well.

The suit turned to him and Tony said, “I think you've done enough.” He flew off to meet with the Director of the NYPD’s Department of Transportation to relay what happened and what the next steps should be. Once he was finished with the bureaucratic workings, he had Friday locate Peter and he set out to do what he should have done right when the tracker was removed.

Tony found Peter on the bridge, shoulders slumped, mask off and eyes downcast. He looked even smaller sitting there, his hair disheveled. Tony felt his chest ache at the sight of the kid, and he knew that Peter was beating himself up for everything that happened.

He let the suit hover in midair as he said, “Recently on Peter screws the pooch,” he sighed and it could be heard through the helmet, “I tell you to stay away from this and instead you hack a million dollar suit to sneak around behind my back to do the one thing,” he raised his finger to emphasize his point, “I told you not to do.”

Peter refused to meet his eyes. “Is everyone okay?” He sounded small and defeated, his fingers played with the black lines on the Spiderman mask.

“No thanks to you.” It was the coldest Tony had been to him since they met prior to Berlin. It was the change in the depth and timber of his voice that had Peter standing up.

“No thanks to me?” The young man’s eyes were ablaze with anger, a foghorn from relief boats could be heard in the distance. “Those weapons are out there and I tried to tell you about it and you didn’t listen!” His voice rose as he spoke, getting nearer to the Iron Man suit. “None of this would have happened if you just listened to me.” Peter’s voice had taken on a pleading tone, his hands in fists, the material of his mask crumpled in his hands.

He let out a sarcastic laugh and turned away. After a beat he said, “If you even cared you'd actually be here.”

At that, the suit opened up and Tony gracefully stepped out, arms splayed out at his sides, as if to say: and here I am.

Peter backed up shocked and frightened, eyes wide and mouth agape. He didn’t think Tony would actually be there. And taking in the older man, perhaps it would have been easier if he wasn’t. Tony’s face displayed an amalgam of emotions from fear, to disbelief to anger and finally resignation.

“I did listen, kid. Who do you think called the FBI huh?” Tony’s eyebrows raised in question and he watched as Peter’s eyes grew even wider. “Did you know that I was the only one who believed in you?” His voice grew quiet and Peter could hear the truth in that statement. It made his heart ache. “Everyone else said I was crazy to recruit a fourteen year old kid…”

“-fifteen.”

“...No! This is where you zip it, alright! The adult is talking.” Tony took a quick breath and then straightened his shoulders. “What if someone had died today? It’d be a different story right, because that’d be on you.” His brown eyes were hard as steel and his voice held the sharp tone of experience. Tony knew what it was like to be held responsible for civilian casualties, to have that on your conscience; he didn’t want that on Peter’s. “And if you died, I feel like that's on me.” His lips were drawn into a straight line and here, his eyes looked sad. He was remembering back when not too long ago, he watched his lifelong friend fall from the sky. He let out a sigh that had all his years behind it.

He hands fell to his sides. “I don’t need that on my conscience.”

“I’m sorry-”

Tony cut him off with a small wave of his hand, “Sorry doesn't cut it.”

“I just wanted to be like you…” There were tears in Peter’s eyes and his voice cracked as he spoke.

Tony looked away and then turned back to Peter. “And I wanted you to be better.”

Peter looked down and away, unable to look Tony in the eyes at that open and honest admission.

But that was the truth, wasn’t it? Tony wanted Peter to be the best of them. To keep that hope and goodness, to be the light in the darkness, to be able to make the right decisions and do the right thing. It’s a lot to put on the kid, Tony knew that. But Tony's lived a life; where decisions have major consequences, where you need to be able to say, “I was wrong,” step away and regroup and become stronger.

Tony did the only thing he could do. “OK. Its not working out, I’m gonna need the suit back.”

Peter’s eyebrows shot up on his forehead and his mouth dropped open. “For how long?”

“Forever.”

The finality in that one word brought everything in Peter’s world crashing down. “Please, no please, please…” he begged.

It broke Tony’s heart to hear it but he knew it was what had to be done. His voice was softer as he said, “Let’s have it.”

“No, please.” Peter took a half a step forward. “It’s all I have. I’m nothing without the suit.”

Something ignited in Tony’s mind and heart at Peter’s declaration. How often had he felt the same way? Iron Man made him who he was, the suit was the sole reason he was an Avenger, right? How long did it take Tony to learn the lesson that he was Iron Man with or without the suit? That it didn’t take superpowers to be a superhero. He needed Peter to learn that as well and the sooner he did, the better off he’d be. His head whipped around and he leaned into Peter's space, eyes filled with conviction. “If you're nothing without the suit then you shouldn't have it.” He waited a beat, and massaged his left hand as he said, “Kay? God, I sound like my dad.”

There was a beat where Tony would swear he watched the kid’s heart break but he knew it was for the better. The salt air was biting as he took a deep breath in.

Peter looked down again and finally said, “I don't have any clothes.”

Tony licked his lips and gestured outwards with his hand. “Okay. We’ll sort that out.”

Happy was waiting for them on the street, the Iron Man suit on its way back to Avengers Tower. They managed to buy some clothes off of a street vendor selling New York City t-shirts and other clothes. The Spiderman suit was on the back seat between them; inches of space and it felt like they were miles apart.

The kid had come to mean something to Tony. In such a short amount of time, the younger New Yorker came to mean so much. Peter refused to look at him, staring intently out the window, and though he tried to hide it, Tony could still hear the soft sniffles, a sign that Peter was trying to hold back his tears.

He is just a kid. But just as soon as the thought entered Tony’s mind, it fled. He knew that Peter’s age was a huge issue, but Tony also understood the kid on a level that many of the other Avengers couldn’t. He knew the tears weren’t simply for being yelled at. They were from the feeling of inadequacy, of not being good enough and the hungry fight to be better. They also came from the fact that Tony knew, he knew, how much Peter loved being Spider Man. Because it was matched by Tony’s love for Iron Man. But this was a lesson the he needed to learn now. The tears will dry and he’ll understand what Tony meant on the bridge.

It was easier to wipe away tears than wash blood off of one’s hands.

As the car slowed down in front of Peter’s building Tony cleared his throat, but the kid’s hand was already on the door.

“Peter-”

He didn’t turn to look at him. “I’m fine, Mr. Stark.”

Tony dropped his head to his chest. That sounded familiar.

“You alright?”
“Always.”

He turned in his seat and placed his hand on Peter’s shoulder. “You’re not and that’s ok.” He let his statement sink in, car horns and laughter of passersby couldn’t block the intake of breath he heard Peter take. The kid turned his head slightly and looked at Tony out from the corner of his eye.

“I’m not doing this to be mean, I’m doing this because I-,” he stopped and shook his head, hoping the movement would help him formulate what he was feeling. “I can’t have you hurt, kid. You get that?”

There was the slightest of nods from Peter. “And I don't mean because of Aunt May, or the Accords or anything like that. I mean it in that,” he removed his hand from Peter’s back and the kid turned all the way around, one hand still on the door. “You’ve come to mean...a great deal to me...and maybe we rushed into things with Berlin and after, and that’s alright,” his hand waved in the air between them, “we make mistakes and we fix them.” Soon Tony’s hand was on the suit, thumb absently running over the red and blue material. “This is just a combination of technology and fabric, Peter.” He lifted his hand and pointed his finger to just over where Peter’s heart was beating. “This is where Spiderman is. You are Spiderman, kid.” Tony watched as a tear fell from Peter’s eye and traveled over his pale cheek.

There was a moment of silence and Tony cleared his throat. “I should charge you for those minutes. I’m not that kind of doctor and now I know why.”

Peter huffed out a laugh and closed his eyes. When he looked over at Tony, the older man had a small smile on his face.

“Go and enjoy high school and meet girls or boys, whatever you’re into, and we’ll talk.”

Peter’s voice was scratchy when he said, “I can still talk to you?”

“You’re not getting rid of me that easily, kid.”

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Two days later, Tony received two calls at the facility upstate, the first from The Director of Homeland Security with an add on from the Chief of Police for the NYPD, who explained that his carrier had been taken down by Adrian Toomes. They went on to explain that he had been apprehended by The Spiderman and they were in the process of cataloging everything on the beach. Before Tony could even ask Friday to call Happy, the phone was ringing.

“That Vulture guy tracked the plane, Boss,” Happy took a deep breath, “it looked like he was hoping to get his hands on your tech, make more weapons.”

Tony’s eyes closed and his chin fell to his chest; just another person looking to use his creations as weapons. “Happy, ,what about-,”

Happy’s voice trailed off and Tony could hear him talking to someone else. “Yea, just make sure everything is counted and we tag it all.” His longtime friend cleared his throat, “It’s a mess down here, Tony. Some stuff is lost.”

Tony could give a shit about the things on that plane. He had everything backed up on back ups, and he knew Happy would make sure every piece that was on that plane was accounted for. Tony’s only concern was Peter.

“Peter…” his voice was a mere whisper, “how’s Peter, Happy?”

Though he couldn't see him, Tony imagined Happy’s hand coming to touch the back of his neck as he bit his lip. “The kid wasn’t here when I got here. He left the note but….there was blood, Tony.”

The genius could faintly hear Friday’s voice as she registered his elevated heartbeat. A cool sweat gathered at the edge of his brown hair, and he could feel a sharp pain in his left arm. “Stay there,” his voice was so low he couldn’t be sure he even said the words. “Stay there and I’ll check on him.”

The two hung up and Tony had Friday track Peter. “He’s on the top of the Cyclone, Boss. His vitals are a bit elevated, and his suit scan shows that he has minor fractures to two ribs, bruises on his face, a concussion and a sprained wrist, which already seems to be healing.”

Tony put on the suit and flew to Coney Island but Peter was nowhere to be found. “Scan the area, Fry.”

“Peter is currently three blocks away from home.”

The coordinates were already in the suit’s flight plan and he made it there just as Peter was closing the window. Tony watched the kid as he hung upside down on the ceiling, carefully shutting the door with a practice shot of webbing. As he eased himself to the floor, Tony caught the quick movement of Peter’s hand coming up to rest on his side, face clenched in pain. Once he started to take the makeshift suit off, Tony flew a bit higher to give the kid some privacy.

Tony scanned the apartment and saw that May was home, so the kid would not be alone.

“Do you want to go in, Boss?”

Tony pulled his lip between his teeth. “I do,” he whispered, “but I’m going to let him handle this on his own. He finished the job. The aftermath is something he has to learn about too.”

He flew upstate, all the while his mind was on Peter.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tony was standing by the large expanse of window and watched as Happy and Peter stepped out of the car. Peter’s expression was the purest form of awe and happiness.

When Tony and Peter started to walk, Tony’s arm unconsciously wrapped around Peter’s shoulders, his hand clapping him on the arm twice. “Listen, I’m sorry I took your suit. I mean, you had it coming, but actually it turns out it was the perfect sort of tough love moment you needed, right?” His right hand moved back and forth between the two of them. “To urge you on. Right? Wouldn’t you think?”

“Uuh, ye-,”

“Let’s just say it was.”

“Mr. Stark,-”

“You screwed the pooch, hard. Big time. But then you did the right thing.” Tony kept walking them forward until they came to a small alcove. “You took the dog to the free clinic, you raised the hybrid puppies,” he trailed off, hand paused in midair, “alright not my best analogy…” he trailed off. “I think with a little more mentoring, you’ll be a real asset to the team.”

They came to a stop. Peter looked up at Tony with wide eyes and when he spoke it seemed as if his mind was moving too quickly for his mouth. “To the, to the, to the team?”

“Yea. Anyway, there’s about fifty reporters behind that door, real ones, not bloggers,” he tapped the face of his watch and the round portion of the wall retracted back to reveal a new Spiderman suit.

But not just any Spiderman suit, an Iron Spider suit.

Tony stepped forward, “When you’re ready, why don’t you try that on? And I’ll introduce the world to the newest official member of the Avengers: Spiderman.” He turned to face Peter and put his hands in his pockets.

Peter walked towards the beautiful combination of metal and artistry. “I, uh...huh...wow…,” he just stared in awe, knowing even at his best he wouldn’t have been able to formulate what he was thinking; his thanks and disbelief at this happening.

“So after the press conference, Happy will show you to your room, your new quarters.”Tony turned to the other man, “He’s next to Vision?”

Happy sauntered up, “Yea. Vision’s not big on doors-”

“It's fun.”

“- or walls.”

“You’ll fit right in.”

Peter didn’t seem to be listening to their conversation. His eyes traveled away from the new suit, brows drawn together in focus. He took a deep breath and finally turned to face Tony. He stared at the man he wanted to be all of his life, and instead of feeling as if he were standing there with no right to be, he stood tall, and firm in what he was going to say next. He took a quick glance back at the suit then fixed his gaze on Tony.

“Thank you, Mr. Stark. I’m, I’m good.”

“You’re good? How are you good?” Tony looked at him with some confusion, his head tilted forward and to the side.

“Well, I mean, I’d rather just stay on the ground. For a little while. Friendly neighborhood Spiderman.” He took a moment and added, “Somebody’s gotta look after the little guy, right?”

That last statement had Tony’s heart swelling with pride as he took off his sunglasses. “You turning me down? Better think about this, look at that.” He pointed back to the suit.

Peter did.

“Look at me. Last chance, yes or no?”

Peter swallowed and said, “No.”

“Okay.” Tony was proud beyond measure of the kid but instead of telling him because he was pretty sure he turned into a sap since meeting this Queens native, he said, “There’s a sort of Springsteeny vibe, working class hero thing, I dig it.” He tucked his glasses into his suit pocket and added, “Happy will take you home.”

“Thank you, Mr. Stark.” He nodded his head and extended his hand which Tony took.

“Yes, Mr. Parker. Very well.”

Happy moved closer to the duo and said, “Would you mind waiting in the car?”

“Uh, yea.” Peter turned back to Tony and said, “See you around.” As he turned and walked away the kid spared one last glance to the Iron Spider suit and smiled. He’d get to wear it soon enough. He clapped his hands together and seemed to have a skip in his step, but before he could get too far he turned back and said, “That was a test right? There’s a, nobody back there?”

“Yes, you passed.”

Peter smiled and headed for the car.

“Alright, skedaddle there young buck.”

“Thank you, Mr. Stark! Thank you!”

“Yea, thank you.”

Tony watched Peter walk away and found a renewed sense of hope at the kid turning him down. He worked tirelessly on the new suit, creating even more bells and whistles and forms of protection for the young Avenger. But for now, the kid needed to live his life and make it through high school. There were enough life and death situations there that he could tackle; the world could wait.

“He’s a good kid.”

When Tony turned to Happy, his lips quirked up into a crooked smile. He opened his mouth to speak but found that he was overcome with emotion, and instead, sighed, clapped his hands together then held them out in front of him.

He knew that Pepper would be able to get him out of the press briefing and find some excuse that they were all gathered there. Tony instead, walked up to his office and sat at his desk. There was a picture next to the computer that caught Tony’s eye. It was innocuous; nothing taken at a gala or press briefing, nothing involving a life or death situation, but if the building was on fire, this was the thing he would grab.

It was a photo of the original Avengers, a week or two after New York and Shawarma, and their brief time apart; it was after Tony offered them rooms in his tower. They had all finally moved in, even Thor with cases of Asgardian mead and civilian clothes, and they sat on the floor of the communal living room sharing thirteen boxes of pizza.

Pepper was on her way out to talk to the press or Stark board members, when she had caught them all laughing. She had discreetly taken out her phone and taken a picture of it. Tony found it a few days later with a note that simply said: Family.

Tony stared at it now, his calloused hand bringing it closer to his face. In it, Steve sat to Tony’s left, his mouth wide with laughter, blue eyes closed, hand clasped across his chest. Clint was balancing a pizza box on his head, but it had tilted at the last moment and pizza came out and fell on his face. His eyes were closed and his hands and cheeks were covered in red sauce. Natasha was seated next to him on the floor, her face lit up by the smile she wore, crinkles at the corners of her eyes. Thor was smiling too and Tony could almost hear his booming voice as he offered a drink in Clint’s honor. Bruce was seated a little ways from the group, just to the right of Tony, his face the most relaxed he had ever seen on his brother scientist; the smallest but purest of smiles on his face. And then there was Tony, back against the couch, legs crossed at the ankles, one hand under his chin and the other in mid slap of his thigh.

They were all so happy. And they were together and safe.

Since bringing Peter into the fold, his hope had been to not only make the Avengers stronger, but to add on to this odd group that had come to mean family. They had all brought on stragglers (Steve with Sam, Clint with Wanda, even Sam with Scott Lang). It was different with Peter though. After the Accords, and with the team scattered, Tony felt he had to show himself that he was still capable of protecting people, of making the right decisions and instilling the values he had to learn the hard way; to take what they all had taught him and use it to make Peter better.

Peter was right; this was a test.
He was just wrong about who it was for.

In that moment, staring at the picture of his friends, knowing that Peter was on his way back to Queens, and May and his friends, Tony felt hopeful for the first time since Siberia. Peter was the best of them and together, they’d be able to tackle whatever came their way.

The soft lilt of Friday’s voice startled him out of his thoughts. “Sir, there’s a call for you from Wakanda.”

Tony sat up in his chair, the photo coming to rest softly in it’s spot. He rubbed at his chin and opened the drawer of his desk. The phone that Steve sent still sat where he had placed it a few months ago. Tony hadn’t been ready to talk to the wayward Avenger and was too busy with the Accords, Peter and Stark Industries to make that call anyway.

There had been no communication straight from Wakanda since Siberia.

He wondered what had Steve or T’Challa calling now. He closed the drawer and his eyes as he said, “Put it through.”

There was a moment between Tony saying the words and the phone ringing. He picked it up, his stomach a jumble of knots and anxious energy. He found he couldn’t speak.

“Tony?” The deep timber of Steve’s voice came through the phone and Tony felt his body slump into the chair. He was alive.

“Is everyone alright?” There was a snarky remark at the back of his teeth but his main concern was the team.

There the briefest of pauses on the other end and Tony could just make out the relieved sigh that Steve gave before he said, “We’re all safe,” he paused then added, “we’re all alive.”

Tony cleared his throat. “So, what do you want? Cause I’m sure this isn’t a social call.”

“You never came for us.” They were a few simple words, but Tony could hear and feel the gratitude behind them.

“I wasn’t going to, Steve. I knew, even after everything, that Ross was wrong and what he did to the team…” his voice trailed off. “I jammed the…-”

“--Their AV systems, I know. T’Challa tried to hack into it as well and he was pushed out by Friday.” Steve paused, “Thank you, Tony.”

“There was a lot of shit that went down. This isn’t going to be a one phone call kind of thing, Steve.”

“I know that, Tony and I want to fix this, to repair the rip I made when I tore the Avengers apart.” His voice cracked and he added, “We all want to fix this.”

Tony had said those same words to Steve at the airstrip, just before all hell broke loose. The taste of betrayal was still fresh in his mind, and he knew that it would take a hell of a lot of time to fix it, but he also knew they were worth it. He thought of Peter’s bright smile when he found out he was an Avenger, his unending belief that he could make the world better. “How much time ya, got?”

Steve sucked in a breath of air and in a hurried whisper said, “Whatever you can spare.”

Tony could almost imagine him sitting at the edge of his bed, head bent and blue eyes closed. “Where do you want to start?”

“At the beginning.”

And so they did.

They were going to mend this rift.

They were going to be stronger than before. Tony could feel it.

He had to thank Peter. Hope is catching.