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“Such a naive little kid. You really thought I was on your side?” Mysterio laughs, and he might as well have driven a knife into Peter’s ribs.
He can’t believe he fell for this.
Why didn’t he see the signs? How could he let Mysterio play him like this when it was so obvious that he was going to betray him? The lying, the secrecy, the overall sketchiness - Peter knew something was off about this whole team-up, about Mysterio himself, and yet he let himself end up here.
Betrayed, by someone he thought he could trust.
It’s the first time, but he’s sure it won’t be the last. Superheroes and betrayal go together like oil and vinegar.
Green mist swirls around Mysterio, through the air, and around Peter, who automatically swats at the mist despite knowing that it’s nothing more than an illusion. When everything clears, Mysterio is gone.
Peter bites down on his bottom lip so hard he draws blood.
What is he supposed to do now? He has an ex-teammate, the leader of SHIELD breathing down his neck, and a threat hanging over a country he doesn’t even live in that apparently only he is available to handle.
Okay. What does he normally do when he’s in over his head?
Call Mr. Stark.
The phone rings only twice before Tony’s cheerful voice says, “Hey, kiddo, how’s England?”
How’s England? England is incredible. Lively and beautiful and bright. England is amazing, and Peter loves it here.
Except, of course, for the one part where his fun school vacation turned into his latest life-threatening endeavor, made even worse than the last by the cold sting of betrayal and the fact that, this time, a whole country is relying on him instead of just a city.
Peter sits down in the middle of the alley. Barely feels how hot the concrete is because he’s numb down to his toes. “England’s really nice, Mr. Stark.”
If asked, Peter would never be able to say what about his words tipped Tony off, but clearly small talk is not going to fly.
“What’s wrong, Pete?”
Peter wraps his arms around himself, leans forward, closes his eyes. For a long moment, he doesn’t speak.
There’s so many things wrong here, he doesn’t even know where to start. He’s avoided talking to Tony about everything that’s going on for the whole time he’s been in Europe because he didn’t want Tony to do that overprotective thing he does where he hears that Peter has a problem and immediately tracks his location and flies to him.
(It’s been like that since the Snap. He knows Tony’s not trying to be suffocating, and that’s why he doesn’t really mind.)
“I, uh -” Peter feels tears well up in his eyes and hates himself for being so weak. He’s Spider-Man, for God’s sake, he can’t get this damn upset over yet another person turning out to be an asshole. “I think I fucked up, Mr. Stark.”
He can practically see Tony’s patented I’m worried about you, Peter expression (the one he seems to have at least once a day around Peter nowadays). “Okay. Whatever it is, buddy, we can work it out. Just tell me what’s going on and we’ll figure it out.”
God, he misses this. He misses Tony.
He’s so overwhelmed. There’s so much resting on his shoulders right now, and he doesn’t even have a fucking driver’s license yet.
It feels like it’s only been five minutes since - since Thanos. And yet, the fate of England is already in his hands.
“I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you to freak out,” Peter says, voice miraculously steady. “But I - you know how I said I was going to keep the Spider-Man-ing to a minimum while I’m here?”
“Peter Benjamin Parker -”
“It wasn’t my fault! I - Nick Fury said I had to -”
“Nick Fury? When the fuck did you talk to Nick Fury? Why the fuck did you talk to Nick Fury?”
“He approached me! Came into my hotel room and - and shot Ned with a tranquilizer and told me that England needed my help!”
He can hear Tony fuming. “I’m going to fucking kill him - I told him not to drag you into SHIELD bullshit -”
“What?”
“What, are there no other legal Avengers he could’ve asked? Jesus Christ -”
The fact that Tony just included him in the Avengers is not lost on Peter, but there are bigger things to focus on. “Mr. Stark, that’s not the point.”
Tony’s swearing cuts off. There’s silence on the other end, then, “Right. Right, okay. I’ll deal with Fury later. What is the point, then, kid?”
Such a naive little kid.
Now that they’re actually on the phone, Peter almost doesn’t want to tell him. Doesn’t want to give Tony more reason to see him as childish.
But no. They’re far past that point. Tony knows exactly how capable he is, and one mistake isn’t going to change that.
“I...trusted someone I shouldn’t have,” Peter says, and that’s when the tears finally come.
In a split second, he’s sobbing, pulling his mask halfway up his face so it’s still over his ears but he can press a hand to his mouth to muffle the crying. “I’m - God, I can’t believe I was so stupid.”
“You’re not stupid, Peter.” The response comes immediately, almost automatically. “You - look, Underoos, you made a mistake. Every superhero makes their fair share of mistakes. But, Peter?”
Peter presses the butt of his palm into his thigh.
“Peter. Tell me you’re listening.”
Tears drip onto his knees. “M’listening.”
“My dad never told me this, but I’m trying to be the exact opposite of him, so here goes - it’s okay if you make a mistake. You’re a teenager and a superhero. You’re going to make mistakes, that’s just a part of life. What matters, Peter, is that you fix it.”
Fix it. Fix it.
How is he supposed to fix it?
“And you will,” Tony continues. “You’ll fix it, because you’re - you’re smart and brave and you’re great at what you do, Pete.”
Tony’s gotten so much better at this whole supporting thing lately. Since Homecoming. Since Thanos.
Maybe he can figure out the how later.
Peter sniffles. “Are you sure?”
Without missing a beat, Tony says, “Absolutely. If you think you need my help, kid, I’ll be there. But I don’t think you do. I trust you, Peter. I know you’ll figure it out.”
He’ll figure it out. He’ll fix it.
Tony trusts him. And, at least for now, that’s enough.
“Thanks, Mr. Stark.”
“‘Course. I love you, kiddie.”
This is new too. Peter likes it.
“Love you too, Mr. Stark.”