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Peter’s eyes darted anxiously as he effortlessly swung from building to building, rebounding off streetlights and cars, even occasionally using the bottoms of planes overhead, much to the surprise of the passengers, he was sure. He felt eyes on him from below, excited gasps from citizens- always amazed to spot the amazing Spider-Man doing his duty to the city- but now wasn’t the time for pictures and autographs.
Now was the time to save lives.
“Karen, send footage from 73rd and 188th,” he muttered to his AI, but it was already clear as day that something was urgently wrong. Watching more smoke rise in the distance, Peter glanced at the security footage that Karen had pulled up, his eyes widening underneath the tight suit when he spotted the blazing fire that was raging only a couple blocks from where he was right then.
And when you were an Avenger, two blocks from an emergency was two blocks too far.
“Karen, activate Firefighter Protocol.” As he raced up the side of the nearest building, hearing sirens wailing in the background, he felt the web fluid container attached to his left hand retracting into the suit, instead being replaced with a steady supply of water.
The fire was ten times bigger than Peter could have ever imagined. “God, where are the other Avengers when you need them?” he murmured to himself, using the web fluid in his right hand to swing over the fire and land on top of a streetlight, spraying the powerful stream of water towards the massive flames.
“Would you like me to locate them for you?” Karen’s oddly realistic voice blared in Peter’s ears.
“No, no, Karen, that’s okay, I-” His words were cut short as the flames billowed with the wind, screams of terror coming from the large crowd of people gathered down below. Peter bit his lip, terrified for the lives of these hundreds- maybe thousands- of people below him. As the firetrucks he had heard only a couple minutes ago pulled up- God, time went by slowly when you had to move this fast- he exhaled a heavy breath of relief he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. Thank God.
He turned his attention to his other duty as he leapt off of the streetlight, landing in a squat on the sidewalk below. Screams echoed around him, and he winced; he had always hated the sound of people in fear and in pain. Some days, it was the hardest part of the job. The crowd was slowly retreating, though, which meant it’d be easier to assess the damage that remained.
“Alright, everyone, I’m going to need you keep it moving!” he shouted over the noises of the crowd and the sirens of the fire trucks- and, surprisingly, they obeyed. Peter wasn’t used to have power or control over people; his strength lay more in blending in the background, staying out of the spotlight, avoiding any and all attention. Ever since he had become Spider-Man, though, it was obvious that that kind of lifestyle wasn’t going to be possible anymore, at least not while he was in the suit. And he tried his best to be okay with that- still, at times like these it was always a little shocking to find that he had control. He could tell these people to do things and they would do them, because these people trusted Peter with their lives.
And that was what scared him more than anything.
Turning on his heel, Peter glanced at the massive fire once again before he started running to check on people left behind. Although there was a lot of commotion, it was still obvious that there were people struggling to escape. He approached an old man trying to catch up with someone in the crowd and gently tapped him on the shoulder. The man, terror obvious on his face, turned quicker than Peter had expected him to be able to, clearly startled. “Sir, is there anything I can do to help you?”
The man, his small, wrinkled fingers shaking, studied the suit for a second before he spoke, watching Peter. “Very kind of you to- to ask,” the man replied, a slight stutter in his speech. “but I think I’ll handle it on my own.”
Peter nodded once, too rushed and caught up in the moment to notice the man’s slightly strange behavior. He rushed towards another person struggling in the street, and even from far away, Peter could see the burn marks on her skin. “Ma’am,” he started, running up to her frantically, but before she could respond, she collapsed in his arms, and he carried her over to one of the nearby ambulances, nearly falling into the truck as he set her down. The flames had suddenly grown larger, and Peter felt himself gasping in smoke, struggling to breathe. Nevertheless, he managed to push the small ambulance away from the smoke in the nick of time.
Looking over his shoulder, Peter watched the firefighters struggling to put out the fire, and he felt his chest tighten in hopelessness. Putting this fire out was out of his power; there was nothing he could do. His job right now was to make sure the citizens were okay.
Suddenly, Peter spotted a glint of metal on the edge of the fire nearest to a building. His heart shattered. Please, please, please, tell me no one’s in that car.
He bounded over to where the car sat, shattering the driver’s side window with his fist and spotting a dad and two small children, appearing to be a boy and a girl- he couldn’t tell through all the smoke- and probably about the same age. “Karen, check vitals for the passengers.”
“Would you like me to run vitals tests for the passengers, Peter?”
“Yes! Karen! Yes!” Obviously, Peter wasn’t the only one in a daze from the lack of oxygen.
“Benjamin Patterson, 42. No vitals signs present.” No. No. No. This can’t be happening. No.
“Eliza Patterson, 5. No vitals signs present.” No, no, no, no, no, no, no-
“Matthew Patterson, 5. No vitals signs-”
“No! No, Karen, they’re alive. They have to be alive. Karen, tell me they’re alive! They’re- they have to be-” Peter was shaking, pulling at the car door, banging at the roof, and everything was spinning, spinning, spinning, and then-
Nothing.
~~~
You’re Iron Man. You don’t panic, Tony reminded himself, the pounding in his chest and the slight tremble in his hands reminding him otherwise as he soared across the skies, his thrusters at full force. As soon as he had gotten the alert on his phone that Peter was unconscious, he had pinpointed his kid’s exact location and taken to the skies, an familiar sense of dread appearing in his chest.
As soon as Tony spotted Peter curled up on the sidewalk, the suit still on but visible burn marks on various spots across his body, he descended, the suit coming off as he reached down to help him. “Peter, kiddo, can you hear me?”
No response. Tony, still in his suit, reached down to place a hand behind Peter’s head, slowly pulling him to a sitting position and supporting him with his other hand. “F.R.I.D.A.Y, run a medical analysis.”
“Vitals are normal. Severe burns on upper right calf and both arms. Minor burns on face, chest, and both legs. No broken bones, no sign of concussion or brain damage.”
Tony exhaled slowly, the heaviness in his chest lifting slightly. His kid was okay. “Peter, are you awake?”
“Tony?” came Peter’s fragile voice from behind the suit. “Tony, is that you?”
“Yeah, kiddo, it’s me.” Tony glanced at the car that Peter had collapsed right next to, his gaze wandering to the extreme burns that surrounded the area. There must have been a fire, and a big one, by the looks of it. Why hadn’t he known about it? He should’ve been here, should’ve been helping. Peter should’ve called him immediately- there was no way Spider-Man could handle this alone, no matter how strong and how agile he was. Peter should’ve done better.
What was he thinking? His kid had almost died, and here Tony was thinking about how he should’ve done a better job. Guilt churned in his stomach as he started helping a shaky Peter to his feet, pressing the button to manually remove the suit’s face mask. “What happened out there, Pete?”
“He- they- I- I couldn’t help them, Tony! I tried to help them and I failed and I couldn’t help them!”
Peter clapped a hand to his mouth, surprised by his outburst, and he stared fiercely at the ground, tears dripping from his cheeks. “I’m sorry.”
“Oh, kiddo.” Tony awkwardly pulled Peter close to his chest as the kid shuddered and sobbed. “You have absolutely nothing to apologize for. It’s not your fault.”
Peter stared at him, his face bright red and scared, so, so, scared. “How do you know?”
“Kid, you wouldn’t kill someone, would you?”
Peter shook his head again, over and over, his fists clenching at something invisible to Tony. “I don’t know. I don’t know. Mr. Stark, I don’t know.”
Tony’s heart fell at the formality of the name “Mr. Stark,” but he didn’t let the disappointment show for long. “I know it’s tough, kiddo.”
Peter nodded into Tony’s chest, holding on tight to him, his only lifeline. After May had died, Peter wasn’t sure who to turn to, but Tony had welcomed him with open arms. Now, Tony was as much of a father figure as the kid had, and he wasn’t going to screw this up. At least, he was going to try his hardest not to.
“C’mon, Pete. Let’s get you home.”
~~~
Peter sat tentatively on the couch, his eyes avoiding Tony’s as he fidgeted with his hands. He heard Tony sigh next to him, and he couldn’t help but think that somehow he had failed him. He had failed his dad when he couldn’t save those people, and he had failed himself, and he deserved to be dead right now, too.
“What did you say, Peter?” Tony’s head snapped up quickly, staring him down, and Peter inhaled sharply, realizing at once that he’d said that entire sentence out loud. He could see the panic clearly on Tony’s face, and he bit his lip, pulling away from Tony’s sharp gaze.
“Nothing.” But he still felt Tony staring him down, his dark brown eyes studying Peter and putting him on edge. “I didn’t say anything, Tony.”
Tony’s expression was blank, but he nodded twice, staring Peter down. "Okay," he said gently, his voice oddly quiet and unusually calm. "Okay, Pete."
Peter could still feel Tony's anxious gaze on him as the man stood up to walk away, and he bit his lip nervously. Tony must think so little of him now. After all, he let someone die, and that wasn't okay. Iron Man would never have just let someone die. He was too good, so much better of a superhero than Peter was, and there was no way Peter could ever live up to that, and now Tony would know that, and he would be disappointed, and he… the flames. Peter could still feel the heat on his face, the smoke engulfing his lungs as he gasped for air, trying and trying harder and harder but he just couldn't make it. It was too late. It was too late to save himself.
"Peter!" Peter started at the sudden noise, his eyes flashing in fear. It was too late, and Tony knew that, and he was disappointed, and now Peter was going to be lectured, and he just couldn't take it. He'd already been through so much as Spider-Man, but this was the worst time yet, knowing he had lost someone because he was too late and he didn't get there fast enough and he wasn't good enough for this. For Tony.
For himself.
"Peter, kiddo." Peter felt Tony's hand come to a rest gently on Peter's shoulder, his fingertips massaging soft circles on his back. "You're okay now, Pete. I'm not going anywhere."
Peter risked a small glance up at his mentor's face, expecting to see anger despite the calming words Tony had just said, but there was none- only concern.
A wave of sobs suddenly overcame Peter, and Tony wrapped a gentle arm around his shoulder. Peter turned into Tony's grasp, crying quietly into the man's jacket. Tony ran a hand through the kid's hair, the unruly curls bouncing back up as soon as he released them. Despite the situation, Tony smiled softly, adoration for his- the kid pulsing through him.
"Mr. Stark, I messed up. I messed up so badly," Peter mumbled into Tony's jacket, clutching the man as if he was his only lifeline. "And I can't fix it."
Guilt wrenched in Tony's chest. God, Pete should never had to deal with that fire alone. Tony should've been there for him- he should've always been there for him.
"I know, Pete, I know. Trust me, I've been here before, and it's hard." Tony's voice caught in his throat, and he suddenly found it hard to speak.
Peter leaned back, a sense of calm coming over him, and Tony wondered what he'd said to get the kid to feel better, even if only slightly.
"Mr. Stark," the boy said slowly, hesitating as he met Tony's eye.
"What is it, kiddo?'
"How did- how did you get over it? When it happened to you, I mean." Peter bit his lip, and it was Tony's turn to hesitate. "Wait, you don't have to talk about it if you don't want to. I understand."
"No, kiddo, it's okay." Tony chuckled softly, his gaze wandering. God, that kid was so selfless. Maybe a little too much for his own good, even. He adored that about Pete, but if the kid got hurt- or even killed- while trying to save someone else… well, Tony knew it'd be on him. By now, Tony realized, Tony was the closest thing Pete had to a father figure- and he would never be able to live without the boy. Heck, he hated even going a day without getting a dose of the kid's trademark sarcasm and sassiness, or seeing Pete's smile, or listening to him ramble on about whatever his new project was… the more he thought about it, the more Tony realized that he needed Peter. And as Tony gazed at him, he realized that Peter needed him too.
So he would be there for his kid no matter what.
"I was young when I became Iron Man," Tony started slowly, focusing his gaze on Peter's equally intense one, "and I knew I wasn't ready for everything the job required. I was dumb- yes, I was one of the smartest men alive, but I was immature and unprepared when it came to these types of things. I'd had experience with death and pain beforehand…" Tony trailed off, memories flashing in his head. "But there's nothing like the feeling of losing someone who you're expected to be able to save. The life of a superhero is a tough one, because no matter what everyone tells you, you can't actually save everyone, and I know it's hard, Peter. It's really, really hard." Peter nodded shakily, and Tony grabbed his hands. "And you know what? It's okay to grieve. But what you have to remember is that it's not your fault. And I don't want you blaming yourself for something you had no control over. I know you're going to be telling yourself that you should have gotten there faster, should have watched closer, should have done better, and I understand. I've been there- heck, all of the Avengers have been there. You can ask any of them. But Pete…" Tony glanced at the kid, smiling at the spark of brightness that had returned, at long last. "God, I don't know where I'm going with this, really. Hell, I don't know where I'm going with anything these days. But Peter, what I want you to know is that this is a huge job, and it's a lot of responsibility to put on… well, anyone, really, and I know you turned down the spot on the Avengers, but if you ever need any help…" Tony grinned at Peter. "Call your pal Iron Man. And I promise, I will always be here for you. No matter what."
Peter threw his arms around Tony. "Mr Stark?"
"Call me Tony, kiddo, we've been over this. What is it?"
"Okay, Mr.- I mean, Tony. I- I love you." Tony could feel the kid smiling against his chest, and a small smile appeared on his face. "And I know I'm just your 'intern' or whatever, so I understand… I mean… well, Tony, you're really the closest thing I've had to a father figure since Uncle Ben died, and I just… I mean, it's okay if-"
"Peter." Tony grinned at the - his rambling kid. "I love you too. It's okay."
And Peter finally knew that it was. He would never be the same after this- he knew that this was the type of thing that stuck with you forever, and he was ready to accept that. But he was a superhero, and he couldn't just give up whenever it was convenient- there were people out there who needed him, and Peter was going to be there when they did. Just like Tony was for him.
After all, everything's easier when you have Tony Stark on your side.