Archive of Our Own

Tony has never had the best relationship with sleep. 

After the first snap... it had taken a year of Pepper's gentle coaxing and soft voice to get him to sleep through the night. It had taken a miracle. Morgan had helped with that too, filling him with a contentment that he hadn't felt in far too long. He had fought the nightmares that plagued him and sometimes... sometimes he had won. 

Fast forward to after the second snap, his snap , and it seems insomnia is once again becoming his new best friend. 

He doesn't mind though, because despite everything, they're alive. 

There was a moment where had thought he wouldn't make it. It wouldn't have been the worst thing. Peter was alive, Pepper was alive, Morgan was alive, Rhodey was alive, and the rest of the universe was back. He remembered, searing pain, fire in his veins, the sound of crying, someone screaming his name, a flare of orange, and then... quiet. Four days later, he had woken up in Wakanda. 

The sister of the King had said to him bluntly that he had survived through sheer stubbornness alone, and someone had laughed at that. He hadn't heard a lot else, because then Pepper had been next to him, and she was crying, and he was crying, and then Peter had been there, standing shyly next to his bed until his composure had broken and he had reached for Tony, pulling him into a tight hug. 

Time passed quickly after that. 

Pepper filled him in on what had happened while he was busy recovering from being a self sacrificing idiot as Rhodey had said before yanking him into a hug. The world, predictably, had been tossed back into chaos once people had begun to reappear, but this time it was mixed with joy instead of bone numbing grief. 

He had moved back to the cabin as soon as he could, and Rhodey came with him, taking up permanent residence in one of the many guest rooms they had. Morgan was beyond excited to have everyone back. She didn't know how dangerously close it had been, and if Tony had anything to do with it, she never would. Peter had moved back to Queens with his aunt, but visited so frequently that it had become a second home. The rest of the Avengers scattered, but many ended up going to and from the cabin, no matter what their living arrangements were. 

Luckily, there was never a shortage of rooms in the house.

One evening, when even his thoughts can't drown out the snap of the gauntlet that plays on a loop in his memories, Tony slips out of bed. Peter is staying for the summer while May is going on holiday somewhere nice with Happy of all people. The Caribbean, if the excited conversation he'd had with the forehead of security was anything to go by. May had offered up a hundred and one worries, but gently, in a way that many people weren't allowed to see, Tony had worked his way through every one of them. It would be great, he had said, to have him to stay for as long as she needed, to make him take a break from patrolling, allow him to be a kid. Eventually, she had agreed, and Peter had arrived late that afternoon. 

The kid had been his usual chatty self at dinner, but had quietened down when Tony had suggested he head to bed. Despite it, he had gone without complaint, thanking Pepper for the meal and heading up to his room.

Quietly, Tony makes his way downstairs, desperate for some water, and maybe a coffee, but so very conscious of the fact that Morgan is a light sleeper, and Natasha is currently staying in a guest room as well.

He stops dead as he enters the kitchen, instantly torn between amusement and worry. 

Peter is standing at the breakfast bar, a bowl of cookie dough in front of him and a wooden spoon in hand. He looks for all the world like a deer that's been caught in headlights, and for a second, Tony wonders why he looks so worried at being caught. Then he sees the time. 

3am

Oh. 

"Hey kid," he says, somewhat cautiously, walking over to grab a glass of water. "What are you doing up at this ungodly time of the morning?"

Peter, to his credit, pulls himself together pretty fast, and Tony resists the urge to smile.

'What are you doing up?"

Tony rolls his eyes, giving Peter an unimpressed look about the question dodge. 

"Insomniac, remember?" He glances at the bowl of cookie dough that Peter has returned to mixing. "Why are you making chocolate chip cookies at three in the morning?"

The kid shrugs, like it's the most obvious thing in the world. "I was hungry."

"Clearly." But his voice has no bite to it. "But when I said you were welcome to eat whatever you wanted, this wasn't quite what I was expecting."

Peter shrugs again, and Tony tilts his head to one side, observing him. The kid looks exhausted, there's no doubt about that, but it isn't just the exhaustion that comes from one night of waking up early. No this... this is something Tony can almost  see.  A weight on his shoulders, pressing him into the ground. It's only when he's sitting right in front of him that Tony is struck with the realisation that he hasn't properly talked to Peter since... everything. They'd had conversations, touching briefly on the relief that he knew they both felt. They had slipped so easily back into the rhythm of talking about the tech and working on projects together. It's been comfortable, safe. 

It seems he hasn't been the only one avoiding this conversation. 

He watches as Peter finishes mixing and scoops a hand into the bowl to roll the batter into spheres. "My brain just... It's hard to sleep. Baking is relaxing, and sleeping on a full stomach makes it easier."

Tony nods slowly, drumming his fingers on the counter in a steady rhythm as Peter puts the dough onto a tray and slides it into the oven. The teen sets a timer for nine minutes and then comes to sit down next to him. They lapse into comfortable silence for a few minutes, and then Tony glances at him. There's a tension in the Peter's shoulders that doesn't seem to be leaving, and Tony has a pretty good idea of what's causing it. 

"How often do you bake at three in the morning?"

A hesitant smile tilts Peter's lips, but something about it seems forced, tight.

"May says I'm not allowed to more than twice a week."

"Smart woman."

Peter nods slowly, something flickering in his eyes and it doesn't take more than a second for Tony to put it together. 

"And what about the other days of the week when you're up?"

"I-"

Peter is saved from answering as the timer dings, and he leaps up to pull the cookies out of the oven, tipping them gently onto a cooling rack. Tony watches for another second, knowing that he was about to suggest something that Pepper would  definitely not approve of. Tony knows that he can't solve all of their problems with chocolate cookies at three in the morning, and yet-

"Grab the cookies Pete."

He furrows his brows, confusion written so clearly on his face. "What?"

Tony just rolls his eyes, pulling a plate out of a cupboard and helping Peter to put the still warm cookies on it. 

"We're going outside. Just roll with me on this one okay?"

Peter doesn't respond, but follows him out of the back door and into the summer night. He glances behind him, see's the kid's whole body relax as soon as he steps outside, and knows immediately that he's made the right decision. He leads them down the steps, taking the now familiar path to the lakeside. He started coming here when they had first bought the house. There's something so peaceful about the water, especially in the half light that always came just before dawn.

He sits down at the edge of the lake, patting the grass beside him as Peter sits too, an almost wary look on his face. 

"You going to eat those cookies kid?" His voice is soft, unwilling to break the spell that seems to fall on everything at these times of the morning. 

Peter looks at him in surprise, and the question he hasn't voiced is in his eyes. Tony just shakes his head in answer, reaching for the plate of cookies. A part of him wants to push for an explanation, like Peter so clearly expects him to. But he doesn't, because they're alive, and that's all that matters tonight. A warmth spreads through him at the taste of the chocolate, and he looks out at the water again. 

"You've really outdone yourself this time kid. These are good."

The first genuine smile of the night crosses Peter's face, and Tony counts it as a win. The hum of energy that usually accompanies the kid is no where to be found, but there's a sense of peace that wasn't there ten minutes ago. He can work with that. There is another breath of silence, and Peter reaches for a cookie, watching the lake. It's so still it could almost be mistaken for glass. 

"Mr Stark?"

Warmth flashes through him at the sound of his voice. Every word, every moment spent with him is another reminder that Peter is here, and he's alive. "Yeah kid?"

"Thanks for not being mad about the cookies."

He laughs quietly, taking another. "They're good Pete. I'm in no position to judge you for wanting to eat crazy food at crazy times of the morning."

Another smile, and Tony feels a weight in his chest lifting.

"It's beautiful here."

Tony nods. "It is. The lake is one of the reasons Pepper and I bought the house. It seemed like the perfect place."

"It's so peaceful."

He knows the kid doesn't just mean the water. The house itself, the air, everything about it, soothes Tony's nerves. He knows the others feel the same, which explains the frequent visits from the rest of the team. Peter's voice pulls him out of his own thoughts.

"I missed you."

The admission from the teenager is quiet, and if the air around them hadn't already been so still, Tony would have missed it. He pulls his gaze away from the water, turning to face Peter. 

"I missed you too kid, a hell of a lot more than you can even imagine."

Peter nods, still looking at the lake. Silence surrounds them, but it's the good kind, the kind that Tony could stay in forever. It feels like hours before Peter pulls himself to his feet, smiling at his mentor. Tony can see that the weight on his shoulders has given a bit, and there's a light in his eyes that can only come from eating cookies in the early hours of the morning.

"Thank you."

Tony smiles, a soft, genuine smile that not many people will ever get see. He doesn’t ask what he’s being thanked for.

"Any time kid."

He stays out by the lake after Peter heads inside, a sense of peace settling into his bones. For once, the sound of the gauntlet is quiet, and the feeling of peace is loud. 

Tony knows that he can't solve all of their problems with chocolate cookies by the lake at three in the morning, but its a start.

  ──────

Four days later, when Tony pulls himself out of a dream that left his chest heaving and stumbles downstairs, it’s just after four in the morning, and the cookies are already in the oven. 

The first thing he registers is the warm smell of baking. The second thing is the sound of someone crying softly in the kitchen.

He spots Peter as soon as he walks into the room, and something inside of him fractures when he sees the teen.

“Peter?”

He whips around, wiping frantically at his face.

“I- I didn’t know you were up.”

Tony shakes his head, heart in his throat at the sight of him. Oversized pyjamas, hair still messy from sleep, eyes red with exhaustion. The billionaire's voice is soft.

“Want to talk about it?”

The kid shakes his head almost frantically, and nearly jumps out of his skin when the timer beeps, signalling that the cookies are ready. He watches as Peter pulls them out of the oven and onto a plate, and then Tony makes his way wordlessly to the door, gesturing for Peter to follow him.

Less than a minute later, they are back by the lake.

Tony doesn’t speak as they watch the water, doesn’t speak as Peter shifts closer until their shoulders are touching. He just waits.

“You remember Titan.”

It’s not a question, not really, and Tony is grateful for that, because it’s not something he could ever forget. He knows that Peter’s string of apologies and pleas will guest star in his nightmares for the rest of his life.

“Yes.”

The teen pulls in a shuddering breath of air, and Tony’s heart aches as he watches him struggle to form the words to explain.

“It- I felt it.” Peter shakes his head, turning a cookie between his fingers. “My healing I guess. It tried to... to keep me together.”

Tony realises with a dawning horror exactly what he means. For the rest of the world, it was painless, over in an instant. Peter’s advanced healing kept his body together long enough for him to feel every second of dissolving into nothing

“Kid I-"

Peter shakes his head, closing his eyes. “I don’t like sleeping. Every time I do, I’m back there. And I know, I know I’m safe and I know it’s over I just-"

And Tony nods because he knows, god he knows what it’s like to be so terrified of your own dreams you would do anything to avoid them, knows what it’s like to be afraid of memories. He just wishes Peter didn’t know that, wishes he didn’t have to experience this part of the job.

“I know,” he says softly, and that’s all it takes for Peter to break, and a second later he’s holding an armful of teenager, and the goddamn selfless kid who didn’t deserve any of this is crying into his sweatshirt.

“I’m tired Mr Stark,” he whispers, and god, Tony wants to bring Thanos back just to kill him again, to do anything to that will get rid of the broken cries coming from the sixteen year old in his arms.

“I know kid,” he says, rubbing soothing circles on his back. “I know. It’s going to be okay.”

“How do you know?”

He hugs him tighter, carding his fingers through his hair, and gradually, Peter’s cries begin to slow.  

“Have I ever lied to you before?”

“No”

“Then there you go.”

There’s a beat of quiet, but part of Tony knows that the teen isn’t done. A second later, his suspicions are confirmed.

“I just- it feels like... like everyone’s moved on. Without me.”

Oh kid.

“You have Pepper and now Morgan. And I- I don’t feel like I fit anywhere.”

Tony shakes his head, taking Peters hand gently and placing it over his heart, just where the Arc reactor used to be. And when he speaks again, his voice is gentle in a way that the rest of the world will never hear.

“You belong right here Pete. You’re family.”

Peter blinks up at him, looking so much younger than he was, and Tony continues, desperate to make him understand.

“I only knew we wanted a child because I already had one. I would tear apart the universe ten times over to get you back. Pepper... she told me I couldn’t bring everyone back. I didn’t care. I only wanted to you back . ”

Peter is staring at him with wide eyes, hands curled into the fabric of his sweatshirt, and part of Tony registers that it’s the first time he’s saying this out loud, the first time he’s admitting it to himself. The light is softer now as the first rays of sun begin to make an appearance over the lake. There is silence again, but not the bad kind.

“Does they go away? The nightmares?” Peters voice is soft and heartbreakingly young.

Tony doesn’t try to lie.

“No. But it gets better. It always gets better.”

“I’m sorry.”

Tony shakes his head, something aching in his chest.

“Not your fault. None of this is your fault Pete. I’m staying right here.”

Peter takes another cookie, still not meeting his gaze.

“Hey.” Tony lifts his chin with a finger to make the kid meet his eyes, brushing away the lingering tears with his thumbs. “Trust me, okay? I’m not going anywhere. I’m never leaving you. You’re stuck in my life now, whether you like it or not.”

He holds his gaze until Peter nods, a small smile flickering over his face.

“Thank you.”

Tony waves it off, taking another cookie before turning back to him. The words are there, in the air between them, in his heart.

“You know I love you, right kid?”

Peter’s eyes are wide, but then he blinks, and the smile he gives Tony makes everything, every nightmare, every challenge, every sleepless night worth it.

He would wield the stones a thousand times to see him smile like that again.

“Well yeah, I sort of got the message somewhere between I would tear apart the universe for you, and I’m never leaving.”

Tony rolls his eyes, poking Peter gently in the arm.

“I think I liked it more when you were scared of me.”

Peter leans into him, and Tony’s hand goes up to run through his curls again.

“I was never scared of you.”

But there’s no real force in the teens voice, and he melts into Tony’s touch, eyes flickering shut as the exhaustion finally catches up.

“Were too,” Tony says, and Peter huffs a laugh against his chest.

“Don’t let them get me,” Peter whispers, and the billionaire doesn’t have to ask to know he’s talking about the nightmares.

“Never,” Tony says firmly, brushing hair away from his face, but Peter is already asleep, his mentors heartbeat steady in his ears.

They stay like that, existing and living and breathing, until dawn breaks over the lake.

It’s not fixed, but it’s a start.

 ──────

Five days later, when his nightmare resurfaces, it starts on Titan. 

Tony really fucking hates space. 

The scene replays in his mind, and he knows what's coming, he knows what's about to happen before it does, even as he watches Strange vanish, the wizard's last words ringing in his ears. 

It was the only way.

And he knows now, that yes, it was the only way. It was the only way. But then-

"Mr Stark?"

No. 

"I don't feel so good-"

"You're alright."

It's the only thing he says, the only thing he can bring himself to say, and it's a lie. 

"I- I don't know whats happening."

You're dying, Tony wants to say. He's dying and it's his fault for bringing the kid into this life in the first place. 

Hisfaulthisfaulthisfault

And then Peter collides with him and the rest of his pleas and sobs are lost to the roaring in Tony's head, the blistering urge to protect soaring through him but he's helpless, helpless as the kid locks gaze with him one last time. 

"I'm sorry."

But then he's fading and Tony is left clutching at dust, heart in his throat. He closes his eyes, pressing the heels of his palms against them. Just a nightmare, just a nightmare.

The dream changes. 

He barely registers what's happening as the world darkens around him, and then suddenly he's not on Titan but on Earth, back in front of Thanos. He knows what has to happen this time. He can see it in the wizard's eyes as he holds up one finger, grief steady in his gaze. Tony feels the same desperate fear, mixing with fierce determination. He won't let anyone else die for this. No one else. 

There was no other way.

Yes. He knows that now.

He doesn't let himself think as Thanos lunges at him, doesn't think as he reaches for the stones, the wild, crazy plan springing fully formed into his mind. He doesn't give himself a chance to consider the outcome. The whole thing lasts only a second. 

But this time, something is different. 

Tony barely has time to blink before a blur of red and blue crashes into Thanos, at the same time shoving Tony away with a considerable amount of strength. It's over before it can even begin, and the Titan is throwing the small figure through the air to slam into the hard ground. Somewhere in Tony's mind, he registers that its Peter. Peter just saved him and doomed them all. Because Thanos... Thanos is raising his hand, a smile on his face, and then the snap-

Nothing. Nothing happens.

Tony turns slowly to face Peter, to face the kid who is struggling to his feet, face grim with pain and determination. 

The stones are in his hands. 

Thanos speaks, but Tony only has eyes for the sixteen year old kid, the boy who has unimaginable amounts of power and energy coursing through his veins. 

Tony doesn't know who he's begging, but its the only thought in his head. 

Please, not him. Anything but this.

'Who are you?" Thanos's voice is a low growl, a voice that promises death. 

But the kid doesn't even blink. And trust Peter to go out with a bang because he looks Thanos right in the eye and smiles. Its triumphant, but also unbelievably sad. 

"Spiderman."

Then he snaps his fingers, and Tony is dimly aware that someone is shouting, screaming. It only takes a second to realise its him. Because that's his kid, and he can't watch him die again. Not again. It isn't supposed to be anyone else but Tony. No one else. This is his fault, his legacy to have. He's pleading with the universe now, on his knees next to Peter's motionless body. 

Please please please-

"Mr Stark!"

And then the images are gone, and he's left gasping for breath, chest heaving, nausea roiling in his stomach. But there's a hand gripping his arm, grounding him. Gradually, his senses return. He's on the sofa in the living room downstairs, and there's Star Wars, The Force Awakens muted but still playing in the background. Right. They're having a movie night. Pepper is out for the evening, and Morgan has long since gone to bed. Peter hadn't been tired so they had put on a movie, and then Tony had fallen asleep, and then-

He looks to the left of him, where Peter is kneeling beside him with so much worry in his eyes. 

"Mr Stark?" He repeats, hand still tight around Tony's arm. "You're okay. It was just a dream."

Tony takes in a shuddering breath of air, the image of Peter lying motionless on the ground burned into his mind forever. Part of him registers that he is so beyond embarrassed its not even funny anymore, but the other part of him doesn't care. Instead of speaking, he just sits up properly, and pulls Peter into a hug. Tony closes his eyes and allows himself to breathe. There's a lingering terror in his veins that he never wants to feel again. Ever. 

Even though at first the kid seemed surprised, he's long since relaxed into Tony's arms, and the billionaire counts that as an absolute win. He can feel Peter's chest rising and falling against his own, a constant reminder that he's safe, alive, breathing. 

He's alive.

Slowly he pulls away, Peter's hands curled around the fabric of his shirt. 

"It was about me, the dream."

Not a question, but Tony nods anyway, running a shaky hand through his hair, and Peter's grip tightens.

"Come on."

Tony raises his eyebrows, trying to regain some control of the storm of emotions currently raging through him, trying to quell the urge to grab the kid into another hug and then wrap him in bubblewrap. 

"What exactly is going on in your head huh?"

Peter smiles, and some tightly coiled part of him loosens at the sight. 

"Eating cookies helps me relax, I don't see why it can't do the same for you."

It already does kid. But he doesn't say that, instead opting to roll his eyes and stand, following the teen into the kitchen. 

"You're lucky Pepper lets me keep the kitchen stocked with all your ingredients."

Peter grins. "You know she loves me too much to deny me cookie ingredients."

Another eye roll, and Tony can feel his body beginning to relax as he slips back into the easy banter. 

"Sure she does kid. Doesn't mean she approves of you getting up at god knows what time of the morning to make cookies." A thought enters his head, and he glances at the clock above the door.

Two in the morning. 

He turns slowly to face the teenager who has already started pulling chocolate and flour out of the cupboards. 

"Why the hell didn't you stop the movie?"

Peter gives him one of his innocent puppy eye looks. 'You were asleep, and I was enjoying the film. Why would I turn it off?"

Tony sighs heavily, helping him to get out the rest of the ingredients. "You're lucky these cookies are so good, or I would invoke my power as a responsible adult and make you go to bed."

"Responsible adult?"

He laughs, an invisible weight lifting.  "I've been told that I am incredibly responsible. And badass. And awesome."

"Who told you that?"

"Morgan."

"Traitor," Peter mutters, and Tony laughs again, unable to resist the urge to pull the teen into a hug. Peter's head rests against his chest, and maybe its because he's not face to face with him that means he can get the words out. 

"I'm sorry, for bringing you into all of this."

Peter shakes his head, hugging the billionaire tightly. "Yeah, because I was so safe running around fighting crime in pyjamas." When Tony doesn't answer, the kid pulls away, meeting his eyes. "You know I would have gotten involved with or without your help. I sort of proved that already."

Tony points a finger at him. "That's taboo. We don't talk about homecoming."

"But you just-"

"Forget I said anything." He sighs, trying to work out exactly what he is attempting to apologise for. "I just don't want you to get hurt."

Peter shrugs, half smiling before returning to making the cookie dough. "Part of the job Mr Stark. But I promise I'll be around to annoy you for a while." His voice softens. "Promise."

"Oh good," his voice is edged with sarcasm, and also relief that despite Peter's jokes, he gets it. "Wouldn't have it any other way."

They end up by the lake again once the cookies are out of the oven, and the summer night is warm. Peter's voice is quiet in the dark as they make their way through the plate of chocolate heaven.

"What happened in your dream?"

For a second, Tony toys with the idea of not telling him, or lying about it. But somehow, he can't bring himself to do either of those things. He kept his tone even. 

"We were back at the compound, with Thanos and his army. I was going to take the stones, use them. You got there first."

He hears Peter's sharp intake of breath, and then for a second, there is nothing but silence. And then-

"That does sound like something I would do."

Tony just stares at him with a mix of exasperation and annoyance. "Seriously? That's the best response you could come up with?"

The teen shrugs, taking another cookie. "Did I have a really badass one liner at the end?"

Yes

"Nope."

"Huh." The kid looks slightly deflated, and Tony has to laugh again, shaking his head at the whole situation. He's just had a nightmare that would definitely be popping up again, (thank you anxiety), and all Peter could ask about was how badass he had sounded while dying. And they are eating cookies at two in the morning. 

Once the cookies are finished, Peter loses a lot of his previous energy, and less than ten minutes later, Tony is whispering the worst curses he knows in Italian, words that his mother would not be proud of, as he lifts the half asleep kid up to carry him inside. 

"T'ny?" His head is resting on Tony's shoulder, 

"Right here kid," he whispers, nudging open the back door. "Who knew you were harder to carry than my five year old huh." 

There's another beat of silence and then-

"Didn't tell me you could speak Italian"

Tony freezes, glancing down at the kid who is acting more like a koala at this point in time. "What?"

Peter shrugs sleepily, burrowing deeper into his mentor's sweatshirt. "May speaks it a lot at home, but she's never said any of that before."

Shit. Shit shit shit shit.

"You better not remember any of this tomorrow kid," Tony mutters. Of fucking course the kid's aunt is Italian. He wonders why he didn't realise sooner. 

"M'tired Tony, not drunk."

"Right." And then he realises something and stops again, a feeling that wasn't unpleasant tightening his chest. "Tony now, is it?"

Peter shakes his head, eyes still closed. "Easier to say."

"You're a shit liar underoos."

He feels Peter smile against his shoulder as he continues the walk up the stairs. A minute later, he pushes open the door to the kid's room, gently putting him onto the bed. After another second of thought, he pulls the duvet over the teen, brushing a stray curl away from his face. Peter hums in content, burrowing under the covers, voice slightly muffled.

"Love you."

Tony smiles, and whatever lingering darkness there is from the dream fades away. 

"Love you too."

 ──────

 +1

Two weeks later, Peter has gone back to Queens for the week, planning to spend sometime with her before coming to the cabin the weekend after. Tony misses the kid, but at least he’s reached a point where he can admit it to himself. Peter seemed happy enough when he left, excited to see May, and excited to return to the cabin later in the week.

So all in all, what happens next is completely unexpected.

“Boss, Mr Parker’s vitals are spiking.”

Tony frowns, glancing out of the window. It’s dark out, and he can only just make out the edge of the lake in this weather. Rain pelts down, thunder rolling in the distance. The time on the clock is three in the morning, and he’s on his second cup of coffee since he had woken up twenty minutes ago. Definitely past the kid's curfew.

“What?”

“Mr Parker’s vitals-“

Tony curls his hands a bit tighter around the mug, sighing slightly.

“I heard you FRI. Do you know why?”

“He has denied all requests to be put through to a call with you, but seems to be on his way here.”

Tony swears his heart stumbles to a halt in his chest. The rain is only getting heavier by the second. Peter... Peter is meant to be in Queens with his aunt, there’s no reason the kid should be on his way here, unless something really bad had happened.

“Give me a full run down of his vitals FRIDAY.”

“Mr Parker is uninjured, but his heart rate is dangerously elevated, and he seems to be in high levels of distress.”

“Pull up the baby monitor protocol.” He shakes his head, changing his mind in a split second. “Actually, do me a favour and connect me to the kids AI, but don’t put him on. I just want to talk to her.”

“Connecting to Karen now.”

Tony rolls his eyes at the name, but his attention sharpens as a voice filters into the room.

“Mr Stark.”

Of course the kid has imposed his manners on the AI. 

“Talk to me Karen. What’s going on here?”

“Peter was stopping an armed robbery this afternoon, and they had a hostage. Thirteen year old Maria Roberts. He managed to disarm them all and contact the police, but the girl was shot because one of them had a second weapon, and died before the emergency help could arrive.”

Shit.

He dimly registers ending the connection, but there’s too much noise in his head. He knows enough about the kids guilt complex to understand what this will do to him.

“Boss, Mr Parker has arrived. I am currently detecting a heartbeat by the lake.”

He glances out of the window, swallowing down that tiny part of him that still recoils at the idea of water, and heads outside. 

It only takes a minute for him to get to where Peter is standing, a minute in which he gets soaked to the bone. The cold is setting in now, but he ignores it. The kid is in his suit, mask on the ground beside him.

“Pete?”

The teen doesn’t move, just staring out at the water.

“Hi.”

It’s his voice that Tony notices first. It’s empty.

“Hey kid,” he keeps his voice soft, as if he is talking to a small, frightened animal. “What are you doing out here?”

Peter doesn’t answer, still looking at the water, and Tony can see him twisting the web shooters on his wrists with enough force to bruise.

Tony takes a step closer to his side, and to his relief, Peter doesn’t move. He reaches out, closing his hands gently around the kid's wrists and Peter flinches, meeting his eyes for the first time. Tony feels his heart break at the look on his face, and the teen's voice is quiet.

“I couldn’t save her.”

Tony shakes his head, grip tightening slightly. When he speaks, his voice is so, so gentle, and he can see the resolve in Peter’s eyes shatter like glass.

“It’s not your fault.”

"It is." His voice is no more than a whisper. "I couldn't- I couldn't-"

And then he's on his knees, and he's crying, and Tony can feel his heart breaking as he kneels in front of him in the rain. Peter is saying the same words over and over as Tony wraps his arms around him. 

"I couldn't save her, I couldn't save her."

"I know," Tony whispers, and he grips tighter as he feels the kid trembling in his arms. "But it's not your fault."

A low sound of anguish comes out of Peter's mouth, and there's an ache in Tony's chest. "It is."

He pulls him even closer, one hand carding through his hair. "No. It's not. These things happen because of the bad guys. If you hadn't been there, more people would have been hurt. You did everything you could."

"She asked me to stay," Peter breathes, and the trembling increases. "She asked me to stay and hold her hand until the medics arrived, so I did. She died before they could get there."

His throat tightens, but Tony doesn't let his grip falter for even a second as the rain pours down around them. He's freezing now, so he can't imagine how Peter is feeling. 

"That still doesn't make it your fault kiddo. You did everything you could."

Peter shakes his head again and Tony pulls him to his feet, holding him steady as he brushes his thumbs over his cheeks.

"Here's what we're going to do. I'm going to make some cookies, get you warm clothes, and call your aunt so she doesn't worry. One step at a time, okay?"

Peter nods, and thankfully allows Tony to lead him back inside. He leaves the mask on the floor. It'll still be there later. They're both shivering as they step into the warm cabin, but Tony grabs the old MIT sweatshirt that he had left on the chair and a towel, and in minutes Peter is a lot drier and warmer than before. He quietly instructs FRIDAY to turn up the heat in the room before getting another jumper for himself. 

"Just make yourself comfortable on the sofa," he says gently, already getting out the ingredients for the cookies. "You want anything to drink?"

Peter shakes his head silently, watching with wide eyes as Tony mechanically goes through every step of making the cookies. He's seen the kid do it so many times now that it comes easily. Fifteen minutes later, the first batch is out of the oven, and he takes the plate over to where the kid is, sitting down next to him. Peter takes a cookie, curling into his side and resting his head on his lap, and Tony cant help but think about how young he looks. He runs a hand through Peter's curls and the teen closes his eyes, relaxing into his grip. 

"Tony-"

"Not your fault kid. I'll keep telling you that until you believe it. I swear to you it wasn't"

Only silence meets him, and then a quiet sob escapes from Peter. 

'I'm sorry."

"There's nothing to be sorry for Pete." His voice is gentle, despite the ache in his chest. "Nothing, okay?"

Peter gives him a shaky smile, pulling the MIT sweatshirt tighter around him. "You made the cookies."

"I did." 

"Better than mine."

Tony raises his eyebrows, smiling slightly. "That's a kind lie. But thank you anyway." He notices the way Peter's fingers are curled around the sleeves of the sweatshirt. "Keep it, if you want. God knows i have too many of the things."

Peter looks at him, eyes slightly wide. "Can I?"

Tony nods, brushing a stray curl away form his face. "Sure kid."

There's a soft thank you that he almost misses, and then Peter's eyes are closed again. 

"Tony?"

He ignores the flash of warmth in his chest. "Yeah?"

"Thank you, for everything."

He leans back into the sofa, looking down at the teen with an expression that he knew Rhodey wouldn't hesitate to call the softest fucking thing ever. "You feel like being more specific?"

Peter shrugs, fingers tapping the web shooters still at his wrists. He rarely takes them off, even when he's not in his suit, so Tony made a point of designing ones that could shrink down into twin bracelets. He knows he should encourage Peter to take them off, to let himself relax. But if they make the kid feel safer, who is he to deny that? In the back of his mind, he registers that the rain has stopped outside.

"Just, everything. For the cookies, for the sweatshirt, for being here."

There's a warm feeling in his chest. "You know I'm always on your side kid. Can't get rid of me that easily."

"Thank you," Peter says again, and Tony can hear the exhaustion in his voice. 

"Better get you to bed Spider-baby. You can sleep here tonight, I'll call your aunt so she doesn't worry."

Peter shakes his head, taking hold of Tony's sleeve. Once again, the billionaire is struck by the innocence that seems to surround the teen. 

"Stay."

His throat tightens at the word and he nods, even though Peter can't see him. "Sure kid. I'm not going anywhere."

Slowly, Peter drifts off to sleep, hand still curled around Tony's sleeve, expression relaxing into one of peace. He quietly instructs FRIDAY to send a text to May Parker, telling her the situation, and then returns his attention to the child still curled up asleep, half in his lap.

He glances out of the window, seeing the first rays of light peeking over the horizon, bathing the lake in the soft light of dawn. 

Tony knows he can't fix all of their problems with chocolate chip cookies in the early hours of the morning. 

But it's a damn good place to start, and that's all he can ask for.