Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Peter lay flat on his back, his left arm dangling off the side of the couch. His fingertips barely graze the soft carpet beneath.

The room was dark. The only light to be seen was from the TV, playing Peter’s favorite show.

It had been a long week. Decathlon practice had been getting more and more intense the closer they grew towards the semi-finals. Michelle was secretly a nervous wreck about the whole thing, and the extra practices she enforced on the team did little to ease her anxiety about their upcoming performance.

Plus, Peter had missed Tony. She had been gone on a business trip to Moscow. For what, exactly, Peter had no idea. All he knew was his mentor had been gone for nearly two weeks and he had missed her. She wasn’t due to return until the early hours of the morning, and yet Peter was still laying on her couch in her penthouse, waiting for her.

Peter had just gotten to the tower a little over an hour ago. He had come straight from school, taking the subway and forgoing Happy’s offer for a ride later that evening. Peter figured he’d just let himself in and wait for Ms. Stark himself. Plus, he also missed the tower.

Without Tony there, he had no reason to be there in the last two weeks. She had texted him on the third day of her trip, reminding him that the lab was open for him to work on any projects she deemed safe enough for him to do alone. Peter had tried coming over and working on his web-shooters or even taking apart an old Iron Maiden suit, just like he would do if Tony were here. But, he ended up realizing he hated the quiet. He hated being alone in the lab. 

Peter realized that as amazing of an opportunity that is working in Tony Stark’s lab, unattended, on his OWN projects… to be able to even look at some of the old Iron Maiden armors, let alone tinker with them… was incredible. It was something beyond anything he’d ever dream of being able to do, let alone at 15.

But being alone in the lab… wasn’t what he anticipated. F.R.I.D.A.Y. played out his playlist to his volume preferences and was very helpful in some of the harder calculations and such, but she wasn’t Tony.

Peter just really missed his mentor. He missed seeing her, spending time with her, talking to her, hugging her. He just really missed her. 

“The time has come,” the familiar voice announced from the TV, “For you to lip-sync…”

Peter reflexively mimicked in the same tone as the host, RuPaul, “For your life!”

“You’re really watching this without me?” A familiar voice came from behind the couch.

Peter instantly flew upright and looked up at the source to see Tony Freaking Stark standing in an oversized grey MIT hoodie and black skinny jeans with a smirk on her face.

“Ms. Stark!” Peter flew up from the couch and quickly rounded it before slamming himself into the billionaire’s chest, wrapping his arms around her slender waist and burying his face into the crook of her neck.

Tony chuckled and wrapped her arms around the boy, squeezing lightly, “I thought I told you not to miss me too much.”

“I didn’t,” Peter hated how his voice broke. He hated how easy it was to let down his walls around Ms. Stark, how vulnerable he became around her. He was supposed to be hardened and strong, after everything he had been through. But Tony made him feel safe, protected, loved; he had no choice but to melt into the comfort she brought him and trust her completely.

“Good,” Tony sighed with contentment, relieved to finally have her mentee back in her arms.

“I missed you too,” Tony said softly, her lips rested against the top of Peter’s head, “There, I said it.”

Peter giggled and pulled back to look up at the genius, “How was Russia?”

Tony smiled at the boy with a twinkle in her eye, a twinkle Peter figured the charismatic woman always had. But, Tony’s closest friends knew the truth. Rhodey, Pepper, and Happy knew that Tony’s twinkle was reserved for one (1) Peter Benjamin Parker, her surrogate son. 

Tony wasn’t lucky enough to have known Peter his entire life. For that, she found herself grateful. She was glad she gathered some sort of resemblance to that of a responsible and well-functioning adult before Peter entered her life. But she also felt robbed of years of seeing the boy she grew to adore with her entire being, grow up into the fine young man he was now. A fine young man in which Tony couldn’t possibly take credit for. Tony silently thanked the Parkers every day for being there for Peter when Tony couldn’t be, for raising him to be the perfect kid he was.

“Boring,” Tony shrugged, “Had more important things to do, more important people to see.”

“Ladies,” The voice of RuPaul filled the silence, “I have made my decision.”

“Oh! I missed it!” Peter’s attention was grabbed from the television behind him.

Tony chuckled and ruffled the teen’s hair, “I thought you were going to wait for me to catch up with drag race!”

“I was going to, but Michelle wouldn’t stop talking about this week’s episode and I really had to see it,” Peter rambled, “And I know that watching it is our thing and that I should have waited but I was really missing you and watching RuPaul just makes me feel happy and maybe it’s because of the whole queer pride thing but I also think it’s because it’s a memory I almost exclusively share with you and you were just gone for so long and—”

“Pete,” Tony held the boy by the shoulders, her eyes urging him to take a breath and slow down, “It’s okay, you can just give me a run down. It’s what I get for even leaving in the first place.”

Peter seemed to deflate entirely, “I’m sorry.”

“What could you possibly be sorry for?” Tony asked, her voice with the inflection that could only indicate concern, “You didn’t do anything wrong, kiddo. It’s just a TV show, my favorite part is just sitting with you, anyway.”

“No,” Peter shook his head, “Not that. I’m sorry I just—” Peter sighed.

Tony just pulled the boy back into her arms and held him tightly. Peter melted into the hug and exhaled in relief before burying his nose into the crook of her neck and finding comfort in the smell of her—probably expensive—perfume.  

Tony smiled before pressing a kiss to the top of Peter’s head and rubbing a hand up and down the center of his back, “It’s okay, kiddo. You can talk to me, I’m always here to listen.”

“I just wish I didn’t miss you so much,” Peter whispered shamefully, “I don’t like it when you’re not with me.”

Tony’s heart absolutely melted in her chest. She was convinced it was just a gross sticky puddle within her ribcage. This kid, the perfect boy in her arms, would be the absolute death of her. Tony's smile grew and her grip around the boy tightened. She planted another kiss on the top of his head before sighing, also relishing in the feeling of being reunited with her beloved mentee.

“Well,” Tony began, “I missed you more than I’d like to admit…”

Peter just continued to breathe in her familiar scent and melt into her warmth.

“I don’t like being away from you either, kiddie,” Tony admitted, although she already knew the truth. She’d known for a long time that she’d seen the Parker boy as her own, her kin. It was impossible to not be putty in the boy’s hands. He charmed anyone and everyone around him, without even trying. He was just a smart boy with a kind soul, someone impossible to hate.

Tony would be okay with that, with just not hating the kid. But loving him, was terrifying. Finding something to live for, after everything the genius had been through herself, instilled an icy cold fear into her core. It chilled her bones, with every little thing that happened in a seemingly normal lifestyle. Well, as normal as being Tony Stark could be. 

Little things, like getting on planes, driving cars, sending Peter to school, going to the mall, everything. Everything gave Tony the slight feeling of dread that something horrible could happen, and she’d never see the boy again. And, after everything he’d lost, Tony knew Peter had those same fears. He’d sometimes ask Tony to pick him up from school because he needed to be sure she and Ben were safe, that he needed to see them, feel them, to be sure. 

She remembered the first time she had taken Peter on a plane herself, and how it quickly became catastrophic. Peter was inconsolable for the entirety of the time that the plane was in the air. The flight wasn’t long, but every moment Peter sat with a death grip on the arms of the plush leather seat and tears in his eyes. He wanted Ben, he kept asking for Ben. Tony was at a loss for what to do. She held his hand and kept assuring him that they’d be okay, that Ben was at home, safe. But Peter seemed to be fearing for his life every second he spent in the cabin of the plane.

It wasn’t until she gave in and called Ben for Peter to talk to, midflight, that she finally understood. As Peter shamelessly sobbed into the phone, yearning for comfort from his uncle over the phone, Tony pieced it together. 

“I love you,” Peter said miserably into the phone, “I don’t want to never see you again. I don’t want to leave you—”

Peter was cut off by what Tony assumed was Ben comforting the distressed teen over the phone and the genius couldn't help but frown. Peter’s parents had died in a plane crash. The poor boy was terrified of having the same fate. Tony understood that all too well. She refused to let anyone, including Happy, drive her anywhere for years. The only time she’d given in and let someone else take the wheel was when she elected to sit in the back with Peter, providing him comfort when he was obviously nervous or upset. She’d given up her own fears and anxieties to comfort the kid, and she’d continue to do that for the rest of her life if she could.

They didn’t fly anywhere if they could help it. Even parting for the Moscow trip had been an ordeal. If Peter had been scared of himself dying in a plane crash while with Tony, the feeling of dread he felt at the idea of Tony flying to Russia without him was unspeakable. F.R.I.D.A.Y. had to supply the boy with a live feed of the airplane, making sure it took off, flew, and landed safely. He had his eyes glued to the feed for the entire duration of the flight, around 9 hours. Peter had also been given a new feature on the nano-tech watch Tony had gifted him earlier that month, one that would give him access to Tony’s vitals rather than the watch’s usual function of supplying Tony with his . 

The number of times the boy had stolen a glance at the billionaire’s heart rate and oxygen levels were almost concerning, if not taken into consideration everything that Peter had already lost. Ben would just smile sadly at the boy and plant a gentle kiss onto the top of his head, with a firm clap on the shoulder, “She’ll be alright, son. She’s Iron Maiden, after all.”

Peter knew his uncle was just trying to comfort him in a stressful time, but it just upset him. He didn’t care if Iron Maiden came home. If he never saw the glorious red and gold armor again, he’d get over it. It was the woman behind the armor that he feared for, that he missed. He could lose Iron Maiden and get over it within the day, but losing Tony Stark would destroy him. Peter was sure of that.

Tony’s words in the present seemed to instantly silence all the fears and doubts that plagued Peter’s mind, “I’m here with you now, kid. I’m right here.”

Peter nodded, his face still firmly planted into the woman’s neck, “Missed you.”

Peter knew he already said it, but she had to know. Tony had to know how much he missed her, so maybe she wouldn’t leave again. Peter wanted to feel bad for how selfish that sounded, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care. He missed her like all hell and didn’t want to let her go any time soon.

“I missed you too,” Tony said softly before pulling the boy out of her arms so she could look at his face, “But I’m here now. And I’m all yours for the evening, then I’ll take you back to Ben.”

“No,” Peter said before he could stop himself. He sighed and continued, “Could I, um, m-maybe stay the night? I don’t want to leave yet.”

Tony softly brushed the stray curls from out of Peter’s eyes and smiled, “Sure thing, bud. I’ll call your uncle and let him know.”

Peter nodded.

“Fri, let’s see that lip-sync again. Peter missed it, and he’s got a few episodes to catch me up on, the little traitor.” Tony said with a smirk.

“Right away, boss,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. complied and the episode of Drag Race was rewound to the point right before RuPaul announced his infamous words.

“Come on,” Tony said, grabbing Peter’s arm and dragging him to the couch, “You’ve got some recapping to do.”

Peter smiled and followed her. The two flopped onto the couch and fell into a position reserved for sensitive times like the one they were in now. Tony had the boy fully enveloped in her arms, and Peter rested his head on her collarbone and chest. He loved being held like a child much smaller than he actually was, it made him feel safe. With Ben, it was easier, but Tony made it work. Peter smiled contently as he melted into his mentor’s grasp.

“So, last week, they had to do a conjoined twins challenge where—” Tony smiled as her pseudo-son went on recapping the last few episodes of Drag Race that she missed while away in Moscow.

She was exhausted from the day of travel, especially with all she had to do to surprise Peter by being there now instead of her original 4 AM arrival time. The genius smiled at the boy and just held him securely to her chest, relishing in her favorite past-time.

Chapter Text

The sound of the school bell rang harshly throughout the courtyard, promptly followed by the sound of little feet running and children laughing. Construction paper cut-out jack-o-lanterns and ghosts decorated the walls of the hallways and classroom doors.

The chill fall breeze picked up, causing Tony to wrap her fluffy cardigan tighter over her small frame. The tip of her nose grew pinker and pinker, the longer she waited in the chilly air. Her hazel eyes scanned the courtyard, dismissing all the children she wasn’t here for.

The teen waited and waited for what felt like ever until she finally saw him. She saw the fluffy brown curls and toothless smile dazzling her from a few yards away.

“Miss Tony!” The boy called out in excitement as he sprinted over towards the young genius.

Tony smiled and squatted down with her arms out, ready to catch the boy in her arms. He landed in her grasp abruptly and wrapped his arms around her neck. Peter shrugged off his tiny backpack, and Tony held the strap in her hand. Tony’s smile grew as she blew a raspberry onto the kid’s chubby cheek and hoisted him onto her hip. 

“Hey, bubba,” Tony giggled as the boy squealed in delight at the tickling sensation, “I missed you, buddy.”

“I missed you too!” The boy gasped out as he tried to catch his breath from his giggle fit.

“Peter!” A male voice called from a few yards away. Tony looked up and saw the 5th-grade teacher, Mr. Milkovich, half-jogging his way over to the two. Once he caught up, he stopped and smiled at the boy, “Glad I caught you, Peter.”

Tony just looked at the man, taking in his appearance. She’d seen Mr. Milkovich before, but he wasn’t Peter’s teacher. He taught the much older kids, as Peter was only in first grade.

“Hi,” The man smiled at Tony and held out his hand, “I’m Mr. Milkovich. Peter’s tutor.”

Tony’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Peter’s tutor? Her Peter? Her Peter didn’t need a tutor.

Nonetheless, Tony shook the man’s hand and nodded, “Tony. I’m his babysitter.”

The boy in question just snuggled closer to the teen as he rested in her arms.

“Well,” Mr. Milkovich continued, “It’s nice to meet you, Tony. I can’t say I’ve ever seen you around to pick him up.”

“Miss Tony picks me up every Friday,” Peter’s little face clearly showed he was also confused. Why was Mr. Milkovich even bothering them? How had he never seen Tony before?

“Yeah,” Tony nodded, “I’m here all the time. Weird that Peter never even mentioned he had a tutor,” The teen said pointedly to the boy in her arms.

“Mr. Milkovich helps me with social studies,” Peter said proudly to his babysitter.

“I didn’t know you needed help with social studies, bubba,” Tony’s brow furrowed at the boy, “Why didn’t you ask me? You know, Steve’s a huge history nerd. We could’ve asked him for help.”

Peter’s eyes dropped down to the necklace around Tony’s neck, his small fingers toying with the charm. It was a gift from her longtime boyfriend, Steve. The necklace was simple, a gold chain with basic cursive lettering of the other teen’s name dangling from it. Tony adjusted the boy so that she could support his bum and hold his backpack with just one hand, using her newly free hand to gently grab Peter’s tiny one. She looked at the boy in the eyes, urging him to meet her gaze. Peter doesn’t keep things from her, ever. He said so himself, she was his bestest friend in the whole world. So why was he acting like this? 

“Ehem,” Mr. Milkovich cleared his throat before motioning to the reason he even stopped the two to begin with, which happened to be Peter’s forgotten lunchbox, “Pete, you left this behind. I didn’t want you to leave it over the weekend, so I came to bring it to you.”

Peter turned to the man and held out his hand to receive his lunchbox. Mr. Milkovich handed it to the boy and smiled. Peter’s eyes then focused on the Star Wars logo embossed on the front of it, before muttering a simple “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Mr. Milkovich nodded, “Have a good weekend Peter. You too, Miss Tony.”

“Thanks,” Tony shot a stiff smile towards the man before turning around and leaving the school, the suddenly timid boy resting his head on her shoulder.

Tony navigated through the crowd of parents and nannies picking up their designated children and made her way to the parking lot. She spotted the beaten up pick-up truck waiting for her and picked up the pace. Tony tried to force a smile when she caught Steve’s eye as he sat with a dopey grin in the driver’s seat. But she couldn’t do it. She was too worried about the boy in her arms.

“Everything alright, babe?” Steve asked, his face melting into a look of concern as he noticed the tense energy coming from the two, “Is he okay?”

Steve had met Peter plenty of times. He was Tony’s boyfriend, for heaven’s sake. The first time she introduced her favorite boys to each other, it had been out of pure selfishness. She hadn’t seen Steve much that week, and really missed him, but she was babysitting Peter from Thursday night until Tuesday morning. So, she decided if Mary and Richard never found out that Tony had a boy over while she babysat their kid, no harm would be done. 

To say Tony was relieved when the two seemed to instantly adore the one another, was an understatement. Peter loved how big and strong Steve was, how far he could toss Peter into the air before catching him in his arms, how far he could throw the ball for his dog, Dodger, to just run back and fetch it. Steve was an infinite source of entertainment for the boy. And Steve… Well, Steve was just a sucker for kids. And Peter, with his soft curls, chubby cheeks, and wide baby brown eyes, was just an angel. An angel charming enough to get anyone to fall in love with him.

Tony shook her head at her boyfriend and got into the backseat with the boy, instead of her usual spot in the passenger seat. She dropped the boy’s backpack onto the middle seat beside her. Steve turned to the back and continued to stare at them with concerned eyes.

Tony tried prying the boy from her arms, to put him in the booster seat Steve had buckled in the back before they made their way to the school, but the boy latched on tightly and whined.

“Come on, bubba,” Tony said softly, rubbing a hand up and down his small back, “Let’s get you in your little throne so we cant get some hot chocolate.”

When Peter gave no response, the teen tried again to pry the boy from her. And yet again, Peter whined and refused to part from the girl. Tony sighed and rested her cheek on top of the boy’s head, contemplating.

“What’s going on, kiddo?” Tony asked quietly, her hand resuming its comforting motion along the boy’s spine, “What’s got you acting like this?”

“Missed you,” Peter croaked out, his voice muffled from having his face buried in Tony’s cardigan. Tony looked up at Steve and smiled sadly. She knew there was more to it, but that it was unspoken. She still heard it, because she always heard Peter. Even when he said nothing, she hear him loud and clear. She always understood him.

Steve, also, immediately caught on to what was happening and gave his girlfriend a knowing smirk. The boy was jealous. He didn’t want Tony to be around Steve, he just wanted Tony to himself. It made sense to Tony why Peter hadn’t asked for Steve’s help in social studies. The boy didn’t want to interrupt his “Tony Time” as he had so affectionately dubbed it to his parents. Peter didn’t want Steve to be there any more than he had to be, any more than all the times Tony invited him herself.

Both teenagers were always mindful of Peter whenever they spent time with him. They never ignored him for each other or did anything to exclude him. They never did anything inappropriate or even anything remotely PG-13 in front of the boy. Even Steve insisted Tony not swear in front of him. That was probably the only struggle the couple had when in company with Peter, Tony’s potty mouth. But now, the boy felt forgotten. He was scared that Tony loved Steve more than she loved him. That she didn’t want to play with him unless Steve was there too. And even though Peter liked Steve, and he really did like him, he just wanted Tony.

If Tony had known the boy felt like that sooner, she would’ve told Steve to get lost. She could reschedule with her boyfriend anytime, he was sure to make sure she knew that, especially when it came to Peter. She loved the guy. Really, she did. But Peter came first. In every way, he did. She was Peter’s babysitter much longer than she was Steve’s girlfriend. Plus, Steve was a big boy. He could handle the time apart. Peter was just a kid; a baby in Tony’s eyes. He shouldn’t have his feelings hurt just because Tony and Steve went to different high schools and didn’t see each other much during the week. That wasn’t his fault. He shouldn’t have to deal with their teenage hormonal bullshit. No, Tony refused to let that happen.

“I missed you too, Petey,” Tony replied, snuggling into the boy’s fluffy curls, “It’s just you and me this weekend, okay? We’ll do whatever you want. Just the two of us.”

“Promise?” Peter asked, his voice incredibly small. The sound made Steve’s heart falter. He didn’t mean to make Peter feel that way. He just wanted to give his gal a ride to wherever she needed to go. If he got to spend time with their favorite little guy, then that’d be a plus. Luckily, Steve understood where Peter was coming from and wasn’t the least bit offended or annoyed. 

“I promise,” Tony said instantly, pressing a kiss to the top of his head, “Steve’s just gonna take us to our favorite cafe. We’re gonna get hot chocolate and then you and I can take a cab to your house. How’s that sound?”

Peter finally pulled himself out of Tony’s chest and looked up at her. His baby brown eyes did something to the teen. She swore he was some sort of wizard or something, constantly casting spells on her and every other unassuming adult. Peter flashed her another toothless smile and nodded.

Tony smiled back at the boy and pressed a kiss to his chubby cheek, “That’s my little man.”

Peter, always eager to please, then quickly hopped up from Tony’s lap and crawled into his booster seat. Tony leaned over to buckle to tot in. Once she was finished, Peter quickly grabbed onto her hands as they still rested on the buckle. He looked up at her with sad eyes and quietly asked, “Will you sit with me?”

Tony’s heart melted and her eyes softened at the precious boy in front of her. She almost hated how soft he made her. But, my god, was he worth it. The young Stark even caught Steve pulling a face, a face that showed that the boy was too adorable for his own good. That Peter was tugging on his heartstrings as well. Tony chuckled at the sight of her boyfriend’s grimace and pressed another kiss onto the boy’s cheek, “Of course I will, bubba.”

“Okay,” Peter sighed in relief as he released his grip on her hand, allowing her to sit back onto the middle seat after moving his backpack, and securing her own seatbelt.

Tony, clearly under the boy’s spell, then held out her hand to him. With another heart-warming smile, Peter took her hand into his.

“Okay, driver,” Tony called out to Steve, “We need to get our mighty prince here some hot chocolate. Make it snappy.”

Steve smiled and turned to face forward and started the car. With a glance at the two in the backseat with the rearview mirror, he said, “Right away, my liege.”

Peter cheered as the truck pulled out of the school’s driveway, causing the teens to smile.

Chapter Text

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah,” Tony nodded, pretending to be in-tune with the phone conversation she was having as she sped through the streets of Queens. She didn’t often find herself in that particular borough, but Rhodey was visiting soon and the billionaire had wanted to get the man a special treat. A treat she’d only find in Queens, apparently. He’d been talking all about some hole-in-the-wall pizza parlor there that sold amazing pies and home-brewed beer. She had been planning on getting him a few cases of the brew for them to share when he arrived in a couple of days.

“Tony,” Pepper sighed tiredly, “This is serious. If you’re not here in time, Tokaido will be fed up with you and the merger won’t pass.”

“We don’t need Tokaido, Pep,” Tony shook her head, “It’ll be fine. You’ll be fine. Take the day off, kick your feet up. All of that.”

“I can’t,” Pepper grumbled, “You’ve decided to spend the day out of the office so I need to pick up your slack. Again.”

Tony continued to strut through the crowd of people, her Louboutin heels clicking against the pavement. The genius stopped as she caught a whiff of fresh pastries. She turned to the source and saw a cute, dinky little bakery hidden in an alleyway. Billows of delicious smelling steam emanated from the shop’s cracked door.

“I’ll bring you something sweet, a peace offering,” Tony suggested, her eyes not leaving the bakery.

“I don’t want anything sweet, Tony,” Pepper snapped, “I want you to take this merger more seriously.”

“I will, I will,” Tony defended, “After I get a cupcake or some’in.”

“Really?” Pepper sighed, “Where are you?”

“At a bakery,” Tony smiled as she turned and continued to walk over to the shop. A bell chimed to indicate her arrival, “Are you sure you don’t want something?”

Tony pushed the door open while adjusting her purse over her shoulder and walked inside, “it looks amazing, Pep. You’d really be missing out.”

The bakery did, in fact, look fantastic. There were hand-painted wooden signs all around the sugary treats. Fresh and handmade cannolis, cupcakes, cakes, eclairs, everything. The signs around the shop proudly stated that the shop was family-owned, family-run and focused on home recipes and fresh ingredients. How she’d never even heard of this place before, she’ll never know.

Pepper was silent for a few moments before she grumbled, “Bring me something with chocolate. Goodbye.”

The phone call was cut and Tony smiled, sliding her device into her purse.

“Yes, dear,” She said aloud, to no one. The shop had no one manning the front, but Tony could hear water running and pans smacking against each other lightly from behind closed double doors a few feet behind the counter.

Tony crossed her arms over her chest, her black velvet Tom Ford suit hugging her body well. It was a little chilly out, as fall was quickly claiming its ground. The genius walked along with the glass that encased all the delicious treats, she was mesmerized by how beautifully crafted they all appeared.

“Wait,” She heard a voice from the back, “Was that the bell?”

“Go check!” Another deeper voice replied urgently.

Instantly, Tony heard the light pitter-patter of sneakered feet making their way to the front of the bakery. A boy, who appeared to be no older than 13, emerged from two swinging doors. He was wearing worn black jeans, a smart dark blue button-up, and a white baker’s cap and apron.

“Hello,” The boy greeted kindly, tucking his unruly chocolate curls into his cap, “Sorry for the wait.”

“It’s no problem,” Tony smiled at the boy. He was positively precious with his wide brown eyes, flour-dusted curls, chocolate smears on his apron, and full, rosy cheeks, “Stuff smells great.”

The boy smiled, looking at the woman in the face for the first time. The color seemed to drain from his face as his mouth fell open, “You’re Tony Stark.”

“So I’ve heard,” Tony nodded, “You think you and I can keep that between us, though?”

Tony really didn’t want the kid to post on his snap-whatever that she was in a random bakery in Queens and have her supposed-to-be lowkey outing ruined.

“O-of course, miss,” He nodded, “I just- I’m a huge fan. Your work on sustainable energy with the arc reactor has been unparalleled and it’s something I’ve been following since I was a kid.”

“That’s sweet,” Tony smiled warmly at him, he really was tugging at her heartstrings, “The owner’s a real genius putting you up here.”

“W-what makes you say that?” The boy asked nervously, one hand tugging on the other’s fingers.

“A face like that could sell anything, even without smelling this good,” Tony replied.

“Ms. Stark,” The boy blushed, ducking his head to hide his embarrassment, “My uh, my uncle owns the bakery.”

“Does he bake everything here?” Tony asked with a quirked brow.

“Mostly,” He nodded, “I help him as much as I can. But I also bake some of my own recipes too.”

“Really?” Tony asked. She had to admit, she was impressed.

“Yes, ma’am,” He nodded again.

“What’s your name, kid?” Tony asked.

“I-I-I’m Peter,” The boy replied nervously.

“Well, Peter,” Tony began, turning her attention to the case of pastries again, “What in here is your recipe?”

“Uh- um,” Peter stuttered, “This morning I made the macarons, tiramisu, and mocha cakes. I also make the dough for the cannolis, but the filling is my aunt’s recipe. I couldn’t beat it if I tried.”

“How old are you?” Tony asked.

“F-f-fourteen,” Peter replied sheepishly. I was close! Tony thought to herself.

“Very nice,” Tony nodded, “Okay, I’ll take that, then.”

“Which one?” Peter asked, washing his hands and putting on latex gloves before grabbing a small wax bag.

“Everything you just said,” Tony said, waving her finger around in front of the glass, “Each of the macarons, some tiramisu, a mocha cake, some cannolis. Get me some of those chocolate cupcakes too. And whatever your favorites are. That too.”

“Really?” Peter asked timidly. 

In the years the bakery had been open, Peter never had someone come in and order more than the usual single treat per person, or the simple order for birthday cake or cupcakes. The bakery wasn’t really well-known. They had a few extremely loyal customers, mainly neighborhood businesses or even some of Peter’s neighbors and his aunt and uncle’s friends, so the business was barely keeping itself afloat. 

Peter and his uncle worked in the bakery for passion, not for profit. They weren’t struggling or anything, the profit they made just tended to go back into the bakery. His aunt May, was a police officer and thankfully provided for them well enough. The bakery itself had been a gift from an old colleague of Peter’s uncle Ben from pastry school who had his own successful chain of bakeries around the Tri-state area. He had faith in Ben and knew he’d blow Queens away with the quality of his baked goods. And with Peter’s help, they’d get there one day.

“Yeah,” Tony shrugged, “Is that too much? I don’t want to take from any other potential customers if this is all you have.”

“Oh, every day we bake a different assortment of desserts. Some are constant, some are seasonal,” Peter began as he switched out the small bag for a large paper box and he began to pile in the desserts neatly for his customer, “We have more than enough, Ms. Stark. I just never had someone want so much at once.”

“You have me intrigued,” Tony smiled, fishing her wallet from her purse, “And like I said, that face could sell anything.”

Peter blushed once more, assembling a second box and continuing to place treats into it.

“Do you guys get a lot of business?” Tony asked, noticing that no one else was a patron at that moment.

“Business is fine,” Peter shrugged, “I mean, we’re super grateful for all of our customers, especially the regulars we get. But, it’s mostly like friends of the family, neighbors of the shop and all that. We’re not really… on the map yet. But, that’s okay. We’ll get there someday, I believe it.”

“I believe it, too,” Tony smiled. If their stuff tastes half as good as it smells, Peter and his family have a gem on their hands, for sure. 

“You said to put in some of my favorites, so I put in a few slices of our banana bread and pumpkin bread. They’re a part of our heart healthy collection. I figured since you have, y’know, the arc reactor… that....”

“Thanks, kid,” Tony nodded, “How much do I owe ya?”

“Oh!” Peter whipped his gloves off, going to the register. He picked up a pad and began to jot down numbers, quietly calculating the value of all the treats he had boxed for Tony. 

“With the friends and family discount, you’re at 50 even. Is that okay? I could stack on the neighborhood business discount if that’s too much, I’m sure that would be fine,” Peter shook his head as he continued to scribble on the pad.

“Me? A discount?” Tony scoffed, “No no no, what is its retail value?”

“Um,” Peter began nervously, “Like 65 bucks.”

“That’s nothing,” Tony shook her head flipping open her wallet, “I’ll take a cup of coffee too.”

“Wh-what size?” Peter stumbled over to the coffee machine behind the counter.

“Biggest one ya got,” Tony replied, fishing out a hundred dollar bill. She never carried smaller bills, it was pointless to.

The boy slid the steaming cup across the counter before securing a to-go lid to the top, “That coffee’s 110 degrees, so please be careful.”

“Yep,” Tony replied, handing the bill over to the boy.

“Oh,” Peter replied, hesitantly taking it. It was then that Tony noticed the sign taped to the back of the register stating the shop didn’t accept bills larger than 20.

“Is that too big? I don’t have anything smaller, but I can—” Tony began, going to take her black card out of her wallet.

“No, it’s okay,” Peter shook his head before turning to the doors he came in through, “Ben!”

Within a few moments, a man, no older than 40 appeared with the same baker’s cap and apron Peter was wearing. Underneath he wore plain blue jeans and a plain black t-shirt with a red flannel.

“What is it, buddy?” The man, presumably Ben, asked. The man was young and very handsome. The charming good looks must come from his side of the family, then. Hell, he could sell anything too.

“Her total is 66.90, but she doesn’t have anything smaller than a hundred. Is that okay?” Peter asked the man, showing him the bill in his hand.

“Yeah, just—” Ben replied, looking up at the woman before his mouth fell wide. Tony giggled at the sight, Peter had made such an identical reaction that it just tickled her to see it.

“Pete, she’s Tony Freaking Stark,” Ben began, “I’m sure it’s not a counterfeit bill, so yeah, take it.”

“Okay,” Peter nodded, opening the register and placing the bill under the removable cash compartment. He swiftly counted out her change and handed it to her. She promptly dumped it into the tip jar. She hated change, often never accepted it.

“Thank you so much,” Ben stated as Peter said, “You didn’t have to do that, Ms. Stark.”

“Oh, please,” Tony shook her head, fishing out another hundred and stuffing it in the jar as well, “Thank you for the coffee. And the new reason to come to Queens.” Tony smiled, taking the coffee into her hand.

“Oh, that’s too much, Ms. Stark,” Ben shook his head, reaching for the hundred tucked into the jar, attempting to hand it back.

“Please,” Tony held up her hand, “It’s yours. For impeccable customer service, and adorable little bakery clerk.”

Peter blushed once again, covering his face with his hands, “Thank you, Ms. Stark.”

“He is just the most precious, isn’t he?” Ben teased, pulling off the boy’s baker’s cap before ruffling his curls. Peter giggled, attempting to escape his uncle’s assault on his hair.

“Definitely,” Tony smiled, reaching for one of the two boxes.

“Peter,” Ben cleared his throat and separated himself from his nephew before looking between Tony, her boxes, and the boy. Peter stood confused for half a second before he whipped his apron off, “Oh! Let me help you take that to your car, Ms. Stark.”

“Oh, I got it, It’s fine,” Tony attempted to wave him off. But with two large boxes full of treats and a massive cup of boiling coffee, she found it to be quite difficult.

“Please,” Peter interjected, taking the boxes into his arms, “I got it. It’s the least I could do.” 

“You’ve got to be the sweetest thing in this bakery,” Tony smiled at the boy, “If you insist.”

“I do,” Peter nodded determinedly, “I’ll be back, uncle Ben.”

“I’m counting on it,” Ben chuckled as he began to wipe down the counter. Tony turned to the door, her heels clicking as she led the boy to where Happy was waiting just down the road. The man exited the car, a look of confusion on his face when he saw the small boy with two large boxes stacked in his arms, his eyes barely poking out from behind them.

“What?” Happy asked, looking at Tony who smiled.

“I got some treats from his bakery,” Tony replied smoothly, “What’s it called?”

“It’s just called Parker’s, Ms. Stark,” Peter said, attempting to dig into his pocket. The boxes began to tip, but Happy was quick to catch them and turned to place them safely into the car.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” Peter cried, his eyes wide at the realization that he almost dropped over 60 dollars worth of pastries and cakes onto the sidewalk.

“No harm done, it’s all good,” Tony waved it off. Even if he had dropped it, she would’ve just gone back in and repurchased everything, re-tipped him too.

“Um,” Peter mumbled, getting a card from his pocket and handing it out to the woman, “This is our business card. If you ever want to order something… Or, whatever.”

“Thank you,” Tony smiled, taking the card graciously and holding it in the hand that was clutching her coffee, “Seriously, Peter. You’ve been a treat.”

Tony winked at the boy who smiled up at her, “Thank you, Ms. Stark. I hope to see you back soon.”

“Well,” Tony said with a casual sip from her coffee and a shrug, “If not for this fantastic coffee, I’ll stop by to say hello. Whenever I’m in the area.”

“Really?” Peter beamed up at her, bouncing excitedly on the tips of his toes.

“Sure,” Tony shrugged, “You just might have yourself a new regular.”

Peter was just too excited to handle himself. He threw himself into her, hugging her tightly. Tony was taken aback, trying her best not to splash any of her coffee onto the kid. She chuckled and patted one hand onto his back.

‘I’m sorry!” Peter shook his head, peeling away from the woman, “I just… WOW! I can’t believe it.”

Peter heard chatting and turned his head to see Ben’s friend, David, the man who gifted them the bakery, and his wife and children walk down the alleyway that the bakery was situated.

“Uncle David!” Peter called excitedly, grabbing their attention. The man smiled and waved, “Hey, Pete!”

“Ben’s inside! I’ll be right there!” Peter waved at the family with a smile before turning to Tony, “That’s David, he bought us the bakery. He’s like, the coolest. I have to go, Ms. Stark. But thank you, again. It’s been like… the BEST day ever.”

“Okay,” Tony giggled and shook her head at the boy’s childlike excitement, “Thank you, Peter. I’ll see you around.”

“See ya!” Peter called over his shoulder as he turned and half-jogged to the bakery behind David and his family. Tony watched the boy disappear into the alleyway with a smile.

“Ready to go, boss?” Happy asked, holding the door open for her.

“Yeah, you drive,” Tony said, getting into the passenger seat, “I gotta try these.”

Tony reached for the boxes and situated one on her lap. She then noticed the design printed onto the top of the boxes for the first time. It was a little caricature doodle of a boy with curly hair, full cheeks, and sparkling brown eyes in full baker’s uniform. He was holding a whisk in one hand and a mixing bowl in the other with a dashing smile. Tony couldn’t help but grin at the adorable print underneath the letters that read ‘Parker’s’ in neat blue font. She set her coffee into the cupholder, setting the business card beside it. She opened the box and pulled out a cannoli. Happy entered the car beside her and peeked into the box.

“What’s with all of that? Why’d you even go in? That doesn’t look like beer.”

“Got distracted,” Tony shrugged, taking a bite of the flaky treat. She moaned in satisfaction. That had to be the best American-made cannoli she’d ever had, “Oh my god.”

“Don’t do that,” Happy shook his head, moving to turn the car on.

“Try one!” Tony urged, handing the man another from the box.

“I don’t—” Happy began to protest with a sigh.

“Happy,” Tony repeated, “I swear to god, this is the best damn cannoli in Queens, at the very least.”

“Oh, come on,” Happy replied incredulously before giving in and taking it. He hesitantly took a bite and chewed for a few short moments. He stopped entirely and his eyebrows quirked in surprise.

“See? Would I lie to you?” Tony smiled, taking another bite of her own cannoli, “So good!”

“The kid made these?” Happy asked, his voice laced with shock.

“He said the filling is his aunt’s recipe, but the dough’s all him.”

“This is fantastic,” Happy said before taking another bite.

Tony smiled as her eyes caught the business card next to the cupholder. She grabbed it and looked it over. It had the same print from the top of the box but tinier in the corner of the card. Underneath was the shop’s address, phone number, email, and Instagram handle. Tony smiled before turning to Happy, who was finishing up his treat.

“If you ran a small shop with minimal business, would you hate it if someone with 89 million Instagram followers promoted your business for free?” Tony asked honestly. She didn’t want to potentially put the Parkers at risk if it ended up backfiring for them.

“Worst case scenario,” Happy replied, “They sell out and close shop early for the day. Either way, the cash flow would be something they’d appreciate, I’m sure.”

“You’re right,” Tony shrugged, pulling her phone out of her purse and opening her Instagram. She quickly snapped a photo of the top of the box. She posted it to her account with the caption: “The best cannoli in Queens, Stark approved.” She added a thumbs-up emoji before tagging the account printed on the card and added her location to the post. Tony gave her draft a once over before pulling the trigger and posting it. She locked her phone and tossed back into her purse, her Instagram account left to be abandoned for another few months, which was the time since she last posted.

Back in the bakery, Peter was smiling as he poured coffee for David and his wife Suzy, and hot chocolate for their kids, Miranda and David, or DJ. He and DJ were the same age and really close and Miranda was an adorable 9-year-old with her black hair tied in pigtails. Suddenly, Peter felt his phone vibrate in rapid succession. 

Fearing that his phone was glitching, he quickly fished it out of his pocket with a furrowed brow. He noticed notification after notification began to bombard his phone. Follow after follow, like after like, comment after comment seemed to file through. Peter opened the app that was the source, Instagram, and noticed it was from the bakery’s account rather than his personal one.

“What is it, Pete?” Ben asked, looking over the boy’s shoulder.

“I don’t—” Peter shook his head, scrolling through his notification before he noticed what happened, “Oh my god.”

“What?” Ben asked worriedly.

“Ms. Stark posted about our bakery on her Instagram!” Peter exclaimed, showing Ben the post, it already had over a million likes and 55,000 comments. They had, in the span of 5 minutes, gained over 15,000 followers.

“She WHAT?!” Ben called out, taking the phone in his hands to see with his own eyes.

“Oh my god! OH MY GOD!” Peter screamed, jumping up and down excitedly.

“Wait,” David asked, “What the hell just happened?”

“We were just telling you! Tony Stark was just here! She bought a bunch of treats and gave us a HUGE tip!” Peter continued to bounce in excitement, “She posted a picture of the box with OUR logo! She tagged us! She put our name and location! We’re gonna get so much business! OH MY GOD, I CAN’T BELIEVE THIS!”

Ben was just frozen in shock, his widening as the number of likes, comments, and followers continued to quickly climb.

“Ben!” David exclaimed, clapping a hand onto his back, “This is great news, man!”

“I-” Ben shook his head in disbelief.

Peter threw himself in his uncle’s arms, jumping up and wrapping himself like a koala around the man who laughed and stumbled to catch the boy and support his weight. Ben pat the boys back and held him tightly, “It was all you, Petey Pie. Thank you, buddy. You’ve helped me so much in making my dreams come true, every day. I can’t ever thank you enough, bug. I love you so much.”

“I love you, too,” Peter smiled, burying his face into his uncle’s neck. He was just flooded with emotions. He couldn’t believe this was happening to them.

“This is so cool!” DJ exclaimed, his own phone in his hand as he read through the comments.

Seemingly out of nowhere, the bell chimed indicating a new patron had entered the bakery. Peter hopped down from his uncle’s arms and faced the door to see three teenage girls with their phones in their hands, looking around curiously.

“Is this Parker’s?” One girl asked timidly, “The place with the best cannolis?”

Peter was at a loss for words, his mouth opened and closed a few times to think of what to say. 

“Tony Stark was just here and she’s Italian so,” Another girl shrugged, “I trust her judgment.”

Thankfully, David came to the rescue. He smiled at the girls and clapped his hands together, “The Parkers make the best cannolis I’ve ever tasted. They use fresh ricotta and diced melon and even make their own chocolate chips.”

“Can we get some?” The first girl asked, approaching the counter, “Or have you sold out for the day?”

“Oh, no,” Ben shook his head, gesturing to the large tray of cannolis still sitting in the case. They often had a lot of leftover products at the end of the day. Usually, they’d deliver May and her precinct some donuts and coffee cakes and donate the rest to a shelter or any other homeless people they saw in the neighborhood. Ben insisted it is something Peter help him with, if not to help him get used to social interaction, but to do at least one good deed for a stranger a day.

“We’ve got plenty,” Ben said with a smile, “How many can I get for ya?”

“Four, please,” A girl said, “Do you have anything to drink?”

“We have fresh coffee, hot chocolate, tea, and warm cider,” Peter began nervously, jotting down the order of 4 cannolis onto the receipt book.

“Can we get hot chocolate?” Another girl asked with a smile.

“Sure,” Peter nodded, pouring four cups of hot chocolate and starting a new pot of milk to boil for a fresh batch, “Would you like whipped cream and cocoa powder on top?”

“Yes, please!” The girls replied in unison. Just then, the bell chimed again. A man in a business suit came in with a briefcase in one hand and his cellphone in the other.

“Is this Parker’s?” He asked quickly.

“Yes, it is,” Ben replied kindly, setting the bag of cannolis in front of Peter, “What can I help you with today?”

David gathered his family and bid a silent Goodbye and Good luck! to the Parkers as they left the shop. As they walked through the door, a woman held it open for them with a smile before entering behind them.

“I’m looking for cannolis,” The businessman said, “My wife heard this place was good online and sent me to get her some.”

“We’ve got cannolis,” Ben nodded, “Best cannolis in Queens.”

“Great, I’ll take six.” The man nodded, fishing out his wallet from his pocket, “And coffee if you’ve got it.”

“Certainly,” Ben nodded, boxing cannolis for the man and pouring him a coffee.

Peter was handing the girls their cannolis, hot chocolate, and change with a smile. They elected to sit at the tables and chairs alongside the front of the bakery.

The woman that entered behind David’s family stepped up to the counter and spoke to Peter who was smiling and attentive.

“What can I help you with today, miss?” Peter asked sweetly.

“I’ll have some of your tiramisu, please. And some tea.” The woman smiled.

“Great!” Peter nodded, “Would you like that for here or to-go?”

“Here, it’s so cozy in here,” The woman chuckled.

Peter nodded, serving a slice of tiramisu onto a plate and pouring a cup of their house-blended tea into a teacup and placing it onto a saucer. He put the treat and drink onto a tray and scribbled onto a new order form,

“That’ll be 9 dollars even, ma’am,” Peter smiled. The woman nodded and handed the boy a 20. The businessman had just paid and was stuffing a 5 into the tip jar, “Thank you guys, you really saved me a lot of lip from the missus tonight.”

“Have a good one!” Ben called as the man made his way to the door, “Thank you!”

Pete handed the woman her change and she stuffed another 5 into the tip jar, “With princes that low, It’d be criminal not to tip you.”

Peter smiled and thanked her as she took her tray and sat over at another table. The girls were laughing and chatting, seemingly adoring their treats and beverages. Before either Ben or Peter could say anything, the bell chimed again and more people began to steadily flood into the bakery. It only took two hours of constant business for the bakery to sell out of most of their pastries. Tired and on a bit of a high, Ben decided to close up shop early. He flipped the sign that read ‘COME ON IN!’ to say ‘SEE YOU SOON!’ He turned to see Peter smiling widely with unshed tears in his eyes.

“C’mere, bug,” Ben said, holding his arms out. Peter ran over and jumped into his uncle’s grasp once more.

“I can’t believe it,” Peter said, his voice wavering, “That was amazing.”

“I know, kiddo,” Ben smiled, “All thanks to you.”

“What do you mean?” Peter asked in disbelief.

“You. You charmed a billionaire and she spread the word. Faster than I ever thought possible. It’s all you, Pete. They come for the treats, but they stay for you. Like Tony said, you’re the sweetest thing here, buddy.”

“I love you,” Peter whispered as tears spilled down his cheeks. He was so happy. He was beyond happy. He was on cloud nine. 

“I love you too, Petey Pie.” Ben hugged the boy to his chest tightly.

It only took a few weeks for the people that visited Parker’s to see if the hype was real, for most of them to become regular customers. Tony Stark wasn’t one to hype up a subpar cannoli, so the excitement over the shop didn’t fade even months later. Parker’s got more business than Peter or Ben could have ever hoped for. It got to the point where Peter would ask his friends, Ned and MJ if they’d help out on the weekends, offering them a decent pay rate and a share of his tips for the day. 

What Peter didn’t know is that they’d agree to help out for nothing. They loved spending time at the bakery whenever they could. They’d often plant themselves at one of the tables with a warm drink and a cupcake as they studied for decathlon or just did homework together.

Soon after that, MJ asked Ben if she could start working there part-time. The kids she used to babysit for money recently moved out of her apartment complex and was looking for some way to make her own money again. Ben agreed, giving her the same shifts as Peter and paying her well. That had to be one of the best feelings for the man, being able to hire an employee and not have to worry about paying them and paying them well.

Business was good and it became great. And while Peter credited Ms. Stark for their newfound success, everyone else knew the truth. It was all because of Peter.

Chapter Text

Peter charged into the penthouse with unshed tears in his eyes. He chucked off his backpack and threw it haphazardly onto the floor, not really paying any mind to where it fell. Happy had just dropped him off. Peter was both so ready to see Ms. Stark and so not-ready to take another grilling from the driver, that he flew out of the car and darted into the tower before Happy even pulled the car to a complete stop. 

Just under an hour ago, Peter was on the ground taking kick after kick to the gut, punch after punch to the face, and insult after insult spat over him. 

Slurs and threats surrounded him as he just tried to get up and run away. But, the group of guys had him cornered and pinned down. He could have used his strength, but fear overtook him. He didn’t want to fight back, he was too scared. Over the commotion, Peter could faintly hear Ned yelling for help. Begging someone, anyone, to help get those guys off of Peter. Ned himself was being pinned to the lockers just a few feet off to the side of the assault.

Someone must’ve felt some sort of pity or had some semblance of a moral compass, because a few teachers and other random faculty members were being led to the scene by miscellaneous students.

The boys were pulled off of Peter, thankfully. But before they could question Peter or call his uncle about what happened, the boy sped off. He ran as fast as his sore legs could take him. It wasn’t the beating itself that hurt Peter, their pitiful blows didn’t feel much more than a dull ache at this point. It was the humiliation of it all. The degradation. He was just the victim of a hate crime, at 15. So he ran. He ran down the block, his backpack swishing loudly and violently as it clung to his shoulders. He ran for what felt like miles before he heard a car honk and pull up beside him.

“Kid!” Happy called out from his window, causing Peter to stop, “What the hell are you doing? What happened?”

Before Peter could reply, tears just rushed to his eyes and a breath caught in his throat. He realized how exhausted he felt then. Happy ran out of the car and ushered the boy into the backseat, closing the door behind him. Happy knew it was best to just take the kid to Tony. That was top priority, he could ask questions later. But he knew Tony would have his head if he didn’t at least try to figure out what happened to her kid.

“Peter,” Happy began, speeding through the streets, “What happened to you?”

After a quick survey of himself, Peter found that his clothes were crumpled and dirty with rips on the knees of his jeans and a small trace of blood on the scuffs. He had the tiniest beads of coagulated blood on his bottom lip and light yellowish bruising around his left eye and cheekbone. Peter clammed up instantly. He didn’t know what to say. ‘ Some kids tried to beat the shit out of me because they saw me holding hands with my boyfriend?’ Nope. Well, maybe ‘ Just got hate-crimed, Hap. That’s just showbiz, baby. ’ No way. If not for the words evading him entirely, the shame and humiliation was too much to bear. So he said nothing.

Now, at the penthouse. Peter sucked in a deep breath and choked out a sob as he exhaled.

“Ms. Stark is on her way to you now,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. chimed, unprompted. At that, Peter’s legs buckled underneath him and he fell onto his butt and just wailed. He cried loudly and rubbed at his eyes with balled fists.

In an instant, he heard the sound of heels frantically clicking their way closer to him.

“Peter?” Ms. Stark called, “Peter?!”

Peter just continued to cry as a crumpled mess on the floor of Tony Stark’s personal living room.

“Peter,” Ms. Stark gasped as she entered the room to see her beloved mentee on the floor disheveled and sobbing. She dropped to her knees beside him and put a hand on his shoulder, wanting to comfort him but not wanting to overwhelm him, “Peter, what happened?”

Peter’s crying didn’t falter as he threw himself into his mentor’s arms, clinging desperately to the woman. He continued to sob into her shoulder and hold her tightly. All Tony could do is hold him and shush his cries, rocking him softly back and forth until he seemed to calm himself down.

Soon enough, the loud wails and sobs were nothing more than whimpers and sniffles. Tony continued to rock the boy and rub his back comfortingly, wanting to be sure he really was okay.

“You wanna tell me what happened, buddy?” Tony asked gently, never halting her physical comfort for the boy. Peter’s breath shuttered and he squeezed his hold around the billionaire.

Tony pulled back to look at the boy’s face. She immediately frowned and ran her fingers gently over the bruising that littered his eye and cheek. She pulled out a handkerchief from her suit pocket, swiped it over her tongue briefly before wiping away the dried blood on Peter’s lip and chin. Peter tried to back away from her, but didn’t put up much of a fight and let her continue.

“Who did this to you?” Tony asked, trying her hardest not to let the anger boiling within her to be too obvious, “I want the whole story. No leaving any details, no names, or anything.”

“I don’t know their names,” Peter replied miserably, “They just showed up out of nowhere. I don’t even think I’d ever seen them at school before.”

He didn’t want to tell Ms. Stark what happened, but he wanted her comfort. And while he knew he would get it no matter what, he figured getting the hard part over with quickly meant he could just get to the cuddles and comforting words that much faster. Plus, she was a stubborn woman. Especially when it came to Peter.

“Did they at least give a reason why they’d do this to you?” Tony asked, her brows furrowed in concern.

“I-” Peter’s eyes dropped to his lap as he tried to think of a way to tell Ms. Stark… well, everything. He wasn’t out to any of the adults in his life. Not to Ben, not to Ned’s mom, not to Ms. Stark.

“C’mon, Pete,” Tony pleaded, “You can tell me anything, buddy.”

“They saw me wearing Ned’s sweatshirt,” Peter muttered, not meeting his mentor’s gaze. It was then that Tony noticed the large grey sweatshirt that draped Peter’s frame was one she’d never seen before. She ran her hands over the fabric, noticing small spatterings of blood on the sleeves. It was then that Peter felt was the best time to rip off the metaphorical band-aid, “And we were holding hands…”

Tony’s eyes flicked back up at the boy’s face. He had his attention glued to the genius’ hands that were now encompassing his own.

“Oh, Peter,” Tony sighed, “Are you telling me what I think you’re telling me?”

“I’m,” Peter inhaled shakily, “I’m gay, Ms. Stark.”

When Peter looked up, Tony was watching his face. Her brows were furrowed in something between confusion and concern. But, in an instant, it softened and she pulled him into a tight hug. The dam that was holding him together broke and the flood swept through. Peter began to sob loudly and cling to the billionaire desperately.

“Peter,” Tony shushed the boy, rocking him softly again, “It’s okay, sweetheart. You’re okay.”

“Th-they attacked Ned and me,” Peter choked out in between sobs, “In f-f-front of everyone. They c-c-called me a-a-a—”

“You don’t have to say it, bud.” Tony held the boy close to her chest, “It’s okay.”

“I ran when they pulled them off of me. I-I-I couldn’t stay there. I needed to come home. They’re probably calling Ben and telling him and I-I-I haven’t told him yet either and I-I-I—”

“Hey,” Tony shushed him, rocking him back and forth again, “It’s okay, kiddo. If you’re worried about Ben, I’ll talk to him. I’ll let him know you’re here with me and that you’re safe. Okay? He loves you so much, Peter. Something like you being gay won’t ever change that.”

“I,” Peter huffed, “ I know, I know. I know that it won’t change anything. But, I was still scared. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”

“Don’t you worry about that,” Tony shook her head, “I’m glad you told me now. You know this doesn’t change how much I care about you, right?”

“Yeah,” Peter nodded, “I just needed to hear it. I was still worried.”

“Well,” Tony smiled at the boy, “I love you, Peter. I love you more than you could ever possibly know. I know I have trouble showing you that, but—”

“You don’t, though,” Peter interjected, his brows furrowed in confusion, “You show me everyday. You may not realize it, but you do.”

Tony looked at Peter before pulling him back into her arms, holding him tightly.

“And,” Peter exhaled, “And I love you too, Ms. Stark. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Well, you don’t have to worry about that,” Tony hummed, “You’ll never be without me.”

“Good,” Peter smiled, wiping at the fresh and drying tears that were spread across his cheeks.

“Is any of that hurting you?” Tony asked, referring to his swollen lip and bruised face. She didn’t even know about his sore abdomen, so Peter was deciding whether or not he’d tell her. He sighed, not wanting to keep anymore secrets from the woman.

“They kicked me in the stomach a bunch,” Peter muttered out, “So it’s a little sore. But everything else is fine.”

Tony sat straight up, forcing Peter back out of her arms to get a good look at him, “Your stomach?” She asked, “Can I see?”

Peter hesitated, he just wanted hugs and cuddles right now. Maybe a soft blanket and some old Disney movie. He just wanted Ms. Stark. But, he knew in order to get her full attention on his comfort, he had to let her deal with his pain first. He sighed and lifted up the oversized sweatshirt and t-shirt underneath to show her the already fading bruises that littered his abdomen. She frowned, running her fingers lightly across the nasty one swirling around his ribcage. The feathery touch tickled, causing Peter to drop his shirt and stifle a giggle. Tony looked up at the boy and smiled. If he was still ticklish, then he’s most likely a-okay.

Tony cupped the boy’s face in both of her hands, slyly tickling under his chin. Peter’s shoulders shot up as Peter giggled loudly, attempting to push her hands away. The genius giggled with him, her worry fading quickly.

“How about I get you some hot chocolate,” Tony suggested, brushing some of Peter’s curls out of his face, “Then you can tell me about you and Ned.”

The genius wiggled her eyebrows as the boy blushed and covered his face with the too-long sleeves of the sweatshirt he was wearing, “Ms. Stark!”

Tony chuckled, pressing a kiss to the top of Peter’s head as she stood. She removed her heels before padding over to the kitchen and putting a pot of oatmilk, Peter’s favorite milk alternative, to boil on the stove.

“I’m gonna get comfy, do you want to change too, sweetheart?” Tony asked as she walked to the living room where Peter laid sprawled out on the couch, his shoes already kicked off.

“Yeah,” Peter groaned as he sat up, stretching his sore muscles, “I’m just gonna put on some sweatpants.”

“You wanna switch out that sweatshirt?” Tony suggested, trying to hide a grimace as she noted once again how dirty the thing was after the earlier assault.

Peter instinctively wrapped his arms around himself and the sweatshirt that hugged his body,

“I-I like it,” Peter mumbled.

“I know,” Tony said softly, bending over to look at Peter’s face, “I’m not gonna take it from you, kiddo. I just want to wash it for you so you don’t have to sit in dirt and blood. Okay?”

Peter sighed. He agreed. He wanted the sweatshirt to provide him comfort, and having the dirt and blood serve a reminder of what happened would most likely do the opposite. He felt so bad leaving his boyfriend behind during such a terrible thing that happened to them. He hoped Ned would understand.

“He’s gonna hate me,” Peter mumbled, tears welling up in his eyes.

“Who?” Tony asked, sitting beside the boy and putting a hand on his shoulder.

“Ned,” Peter croaked out, “I just left him there. But, I was so scared, Mo—”

Peter froze and the color drained from his face. He’d never called Ms. Stark ‘Mom’ before. Not to her face, anyway. He’d accidentally told Ben he was “staying at Mom’s this weekend! Love you!” as he ran out of the apartment, about a month ago. Peter was so embarrassed, he sprinted to Happy’s waiting car and avoided talking to his uncle for almost a full day. When Ben sat him down that Sunday night, he was quick to assure the boy that there was nothing wrong with seeing Tony as a motherly figure. He was relieved to know Ben wasn’t angry or accusing him of trying to replace his mother, Mary, or his late aunt, May. Ben was sure to tell the boy that all that mattered was that there was someone that loved him and that he loved back. And there was nothing wrong with that at all.

But, Peter knew Tony was weird when it came to family and emotions. Sure, she was great at showing how much she cared about him, but implying that she saw him as a son was a bit much. So imagine his surprise when he looked up at Tony to see her with wet eyes and a warm smile.

“He won’t hate you, kiddo,” Tony comforted, “He knows more than anyone how scary that was. He’s probably just worried about you.”

“I should text him. I would call but I just,” Peter sighed, looking down at his lap, “I just want to be with you right now.”

“Just let him know you’re home safe,” Tony cooed, pulling the boy into a hug, “He’ll understand.”

Peter nodded, not sure if he’s glad or worried at Tony not addressing his slip-up. She either thought it wasn’t a big deal and was okay with it, or hated it and it made her so uncomfortable that she doesn’t want to even acknowledge it.

“You get changed,” Tony said, pulling back and looking at Peter’s face, “I’ll meet you in here and we’ll have hot chocolate and watch a movie. Okay?”

“Okay,” Peter nodded, standing and making his way to the hallway where his room resided. Before he could disappear down the hallway, Tony called from the kitchen as she pulled the boiling pot off the stove, “You know you can call me that. Right, Pete?”

“Wh-what?” Peter stopped, turning to face her. She had a smile on her face as she stirred hot milk with cocoa powder into two mugs.

“You can call me mom. It’s really an honor to know you see me that way. Seriously,” Tony said sincerely.

“Re-really?” Peter asked, his voice quiet.

“Yeah,” Tony shrugged, “You’re already my kid. I might as well be your mom.”

Peter smiled at her before he nodded, “Okay.”

Peter walked to his bedroom, shucking off his ruined jeans and replacing them with the fuzzy Hello Kitty sweatpants that Tony gave him during the whole Homecoming fiasco. He hated them when he received them, certain the humiliation was part of his punishment. But since, he’d grown to find comfort in them. He knew Tony only did what she did in hopes of protecting the boy, so his sweatpants were a reminder that he had someone looking out for him.

He took a moment to take in a whiff of Ned’s sweatshirt. He loved that it smelled like him, like his house where they shared so many memories. It brought him so much comfort that he practically snatched it from his boyfriend when Ned took it off during their second-period class and whipped on himself, not paying the stares of the other students any mind. 

Peter then took the sweatshirt off, sadly balling it up to take it to Ms. Stark to have it washed. He ran a hand through his curls and sighed. He made his way to the living room, sitting on the couch and picking up one of the mugs that sat on the coffee table. Ms. Stark must’ve still been changing considering she wasn’t in the room. He noticed the other mug that he hadn’t picked up had an absurd amount of whipped cream, mini marshmallows, and a maraschino cherry on top. He chuckled, switching out the mugs, just knowing that that specific one was meant for him. 

Peter took a drink and sighed in content. Just then, Ms. Stark entered. She was wearing a white sweatshirt with the Italian flag printed on the front and black yoga pants. She had a grey sweatshirt in her hands that she handed to Peter, “You wear this while I wash the other. Okay?”

“Thank you, Ms. Stark,” Peter nodded, setting his mug down and shrugging on the sweatshirt. It was one of Ms. Stark’s old MIT hoodies. She wore them pretty frequently, so they smelled like her perfume and her expensive body wash that made Peter smile.

“Ms. Stark,” Tony repeated with a scoff, “I feel like we just had this conversation, Pete.”

“Sorry, Mom,” Peter beamed up at the genius who returned the smile before planting a kiss to the top of his head. She sat down with her hot chocolate and allowed the boy to curl up beside her. 

“Friday,” Peter called out, “Can you play Aladdin, please?”

“Certainly, Peter,” Friday chimed as the movie began. Tony smiled as the boy swayed and hummed along with the opening music.

Peter leaned into Tony, resting on her side and chest. He snaked his arms around her waist and hugged her tightly, laying his head on her collarbone. Tony smiled, setting her mug down before wrapping her arms around the boy and holding him close.

“Boss,” Friday interrupted, “You have a call waiting from Ben Parker.”

“Shit,” Tony muttered before covering Peter’s ears with her hands, “I mean, darn.”

Peter would laugh if not for the reality of Ben calling Tony in the middle of his shift. That means something was definitely wrong. Peter was certain Midtown would have called him and let him now that he had been attacked and ran off before being able to get help. The man must’ve been really worried by the idea that his nephew was running around New York hurt and in great distress.

“Answer it,” Tony sighed, sitting upright but keeping her protective grip around Peter. She knew the boy was really stressed about talking to his uncle about what happened and she just wanted to comfort him.

“Tony,” Ben’s voice filtered through the speakers, “Tony, where’s Peter? Do you know where he is? Can you find him if you don’t? He’s— something happened at school and-and-and he just—”

“Ben,” Tony interrupted, “Pete’s here at the tower with me. He’s safe. Happy picked him up and brought him to me. He’s fine.”

“But-but they said these kids were—” Ben sounded frantic and Peter’s heart felt heavy in his chest.

“He told me what happened,” Tony began, “He’s not seriously hurt. His super spider healing already has him nearly good as new.”

“Can I talk to him? I just… I need to hear it from him, I need to hear his voice,” Ben pleaded. Peter wanted to cry right there, hearing how close to tears his uncle sounded himself.

“Ben,” Peter squeaked out, “I’m here.”

“Hey, buddy,” Ben sighed in relief, “What’s going on, kiddo? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Peter tried his hardest to keep himself from crying.

‘What happened?” Ben asked.

“I—” Peter’s heart began to race, “Can we- can we talk about it later? I promise I’m fine and I’m with Ms. Stark. It’s okay.”

“Peter,” Ben pleaded.

“Ben,” a tear trickled down Peter’s cheek, “Please, I swear I’ll tell you everything at home.”

“Okay,” Ben sighed, “You sure you’re okay? I can come and get you if—”

“No!” Peter shook his head. He relaxed slightly when Tony pressed a light kiss to his temple, “I-I’m with my mom,” Peter began, “I can stay here with her until you get home tonight. I want to stay here with her.”

“Okay, bud,” Ben agreed, “I don’t get off until 10, so I’ll be home from the hospital around 10:30. Just stay with her until then. Alright?”

“Okay,” Peter agreed. He looked up at Tony with wide eyes, “Can I?”

“Of course,” Tony nodded, brushing his curls out of his eyes.

“Okay,” Ben sighed again, “I’ll see you when I get home, okay? We’re talking about this tonight, no excuses.”

“O-okay,” Peter replied shakily. He really hoped Ben wasn’t angry. Would that affect how he’d react to Peter coming out? God, he really hoped not. Maybe, he wouldn’t tell him tonight. Maybe he’ll say it was all a misunderstanding. That he and Ned are just friends and those boys were just being cruel. Maybe he—

“I’m not angry, Pete,” Ben said gently, “I’m just worried about you. You know? You-you’re my boy and if anything ever happened to you, I wouldn’t be able to handle it. It’s just you and me, Peter. And I love you more than I ever thought it was possible to love another person. Getting a call like I did, hearing you were hurt AND missing, it really freaked me out, bubba. I just—”

Peter could hear ben getting choked up. Tears quickly welled in his eyes and he leaned into Tony for comfort. His mom was here, and the only dad he’s ever known was close to tears on the phone.

“I just gotta make sure you’re okay,” Ben said with a sniffle, “And if you’re not okay, then I gotta fix it. I’ll always help you fix it, baby boy. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you.”

“I love you,” Was all Peter managed to choke out, “I love you. I love you.”

“I love you too, Pete,” Ben chuckled wetly, “I love you so much.”

Peter closed his eyes, allowing his tears to fall as Tony brushed her fingers through his curls.

“We’ll talk tonight, okay?” Ben said, his voice sounding stronger, “I know Tony’ll keep you company until then.”

“Yeah,” Peter whimpered, snuggling closer to the genius in question. Tony responded by hugging the boy tighter.

‘And thank you, Tony,” Ben said, “For keeping my boy safe. You’ve just—”

“You’ve been a real joy to have a part of our family. And I mean that, sincerely.”

“Of course, Ben,” Tony smiled, “Anything for my boys.”

“Alright,” Ben chuckled again, “Should I come by and get him, or?”

Tony looked at Peter, silently asking the questions: Do you want to tell him here or at home? and Do you want me there?

“Let’s talk at the apartment,” Peter said quietly, “Can mom be there too?”

“Whatever you want, buddy,” Ben replied.

“Okay, then maybe mom can just take me home to meet you there. Okay?” Peter said tentatively, lookin at Tony nervously. Tony nodded in response before pressing a kiss to his forehead.

“Sounds good,” Ben affirmed, “See you both then.”

“Love you,” Peter mumbled, resting his head back onto Tony’s chest.

“Love you too, Pete.” Ben replied before hanging up. 

Before now, Peter was dreading the day he’d have to come out to Tony and Ben. Whether it be internalized homophobia or just plain anxiety when it came to heartfelt confessions, Peter tried avoiding it at all costs. But, knowing what he knows now, what he honestly must’ve known all along: that Ben and Tony loved him so much no matter what, really made him question what he ever worried about in the first place. He had an amazing family. As small as it was, it made him feel loved a thousand times over. And that’s all he really needed anyway, love.

Chapter Text

It was a warm June afternoon when Clint suggested at the tail-end of a meeting that the team should have a poolside team bonding session. Thor and Natasha instantly agreed, excited at the idea of sunbathing and taking a dip in Tony’s luxurious indoor lap pool.

Bruce looked to Tony expectantly. The billionaire froze for a moment before recovering and sniffing audibly. Steve knew immediately that the woman was deflecting when she just shrugged and agreed.

“I’m sure the kiddie will get a kick out of it,” She said casually, “Rhodey will join us if that’s okay.”

The kid in question was Tony’s precious son, Peter. The team had just met the (nearly) three-year-old two weeks before, and they were immediately enamored. Peter’s doe eyes and baby brown curls were hard enough to resist, but the kid was shockingly the sweetest kid any of them had ever met. Most of them (except Thor), had unfairly expected the tot to be a spoiled brat that screamed and threw things or even a gross sticky ball of self-centered energy. But the boy was shy yet friendly, very giving and sweet as candy. Peter charmed the socks off of the team but that was expected, he is a Stark after all. 

The thing that shocked them even further was just how maternal Tony was with him. The genius was as far away from being the type to be a loving and affectionate mother as possible, if what their first impression of her was anything to base their judgment on. However, Tony was as gentle as could be with the boy. She was an adoring mother who doted on her son, showering him with hugs and kisses and pet names that made even Natasha feel a little gooey inside. It was a nice light to see their teammate in after the battle of New York ended. 

Tony worked diligently ever since Peter was conceived to be sure her baby was the most protected life-form on the planet. Peter was her second chance after Afghanistan and she didn’t cut a single corner when it came to the boy’s safety, meaning security was upped even more once Natalie Rushman caught wind of him. Military vetted bodyguards, ironclad encryptions on all legal and medical documents pertaining to the child, and airtight NDA’s for any unauthorized person that so much suspected Tony Stark had a son were just the beginning of the laundry lists of precautions Tony took for her baby. Nonetheless, all the avengers loved Peter and jumped at the opportunity to spend time with him. 

They’d only been able to see him a couple of times, as Tony had just returned from taking him to London for a few days to see some sort of astronomy exhibit or another. But, now the genius was basically offering an afternoon in the sun with a sweet little boy and a luxury pool. Basically, Steve and Bruce were sold.

Tony told the team that the pool was clean and ready, that they were welcome to go ahead and wait until she got her son ready and collected Rhodey. It took about two hours for the whole team to reconvene at the indoor swimming pool. The windows opened and sunlight beamed throughout the whole room, reflecting off the surface of the large body of water. Clint immediately ripped his shirt off and kicked his sandals away before running and belly-flopping into the pool. Steve winced audibly as Natasha rolled her eyes and Thor chuckled grandly. Widow had removed her makeup and braided her hair back. Her clothes from the day’s meeting had been swapped out for a black one-piece swimsuit that showed off a large portion of her back. She shook her head at the sight of Clint resurfacing and squirting water out of his mouth before whooping and dunking himself back underwater.

Steve shook his head and joined Doctor Banner, who was sitting on one of the beach chairs a few yards away from the pool, underneath a canopy for shade. Steve sat down on the chair beside the doctor, his eyes scanning the large open area. Admittedly, the two were only there to see Peter (and Tony, but neither would ever admit it), so they watched as Thor cannon-balled into the pool with a grand shout and plenty of amusement. Natasha called out with a deadpan tone, 

“You get a 10. It had everything, theatrics, a battle cry, and a big splash. Incredible.”

“What about me?” Clint asked as he backstroked the length of the pool, his eyes on her.

“You’ve caught me on a day I’m most generous,” She replied, “You get a 2.”

“I have a feeling this competition is rigged,” Clint replied, disappearing under the surface of the water once again. Natasha shook her head and dipped her toes in the water before walking down the steps of the pool, sighing in contentment as she floated in the shallow end.

“How many times do I have to say it, Honeybear?” Tony’s voice came from the far end of the room towards the elevator, “Let me be a hot mama.”

“Just seems a little excessive, is all I’m saying,” Rhodey replied with an unimpressed shrug of his shoulders.

“To you,” Tony said, all the heads in the room turning to her and the boy in her arms, “Because you have no taste.”

Rhodey shook his head and grumbled under his breath before greeting the team. Tony bounced the toddler in her arms as she set down a small backpack on one of the unoccupied beach chairs, a melody of giggles filling the room. Steve and Bruce smiled, looking up at the boy in the billionaire’s arms.

“Say hi, tesoro. They came to see you and go swimming.” Tony said with a smile as she set him down to stand on the chair. She rifled through the bag, bending over to find something within it. Underneath a long and worn Black Sabbath t-shirt, the light blue of her bikini bottoms poked through. Steve cleared his throat as his eyes caught the curve of her rump, forcing himself to focus on the toddler before him and not his teammate’s rear.

“Hey, Peter,” Steve greeted with a smile, “It’s nice to see you. Are you ready to go swimming?”

“Yeah!” Peter cheered, throwing his little arms up in the air, “Mommy say I can ‘o swimmin’ wif’ my floadies on!”

Peter climbed over to Steve with a smile, “C’mon, cap! We gotta get the pool toys!”

“Aye, mimmo,” Tony called out to her son, “What did we agree goes before playing in the sun?”

“Sumbloc’!” The boy replied dutifully, turning to his mother, “But can me an’ cap just get the toys? Real quick, mommy, please?”

“Alright, if your skin falls off,” Tony began passively, “Don’t come to me cryin’ about it.”

Peter just giggled in response, grabbing Steve’s hand and making a big show of trying to pull him up off the beach chair. The boy planted his little feet and squeezed his eyes shut in strain, little grunts came from him as he pulled with all his might to get the super soldier on his feet. Steve smiled, pretending to fight back against the child’s pull.

“Gosh, Peter,” Steve pretended to strain, “You’re getting too strong, kid.”

Peter giggled again, putting smiles on everyone’s lips.

“Cus’ I like brock'ly now! Brock'ly makes you big and strong!” Peter exclaimed, showing off his little arms.

“No kidding,” Steve chuckled, now allowing the (nearly) three-year-old drag him to the large shed that held all the pool accessories. He helped the child pick out inner tubes and beach balls, as well as foam pool noodles and water guns, and carry them back to the beach chairs. Steve laid them down on the chair he was sitting on previously when Tony came over and scooped up the toddler. 

He looked up and noticed the genius had taken off the oversized shirt she had previously adorned, leaving a simple baby blue bikini wrapped around her surprisingly pale skin. The arc reactor shone, the scar tissue around it now a pale pink. Rhodey was honestly surprised Tony was showing off her body at all. The woman was never above advertising her assets, but those closest to Tony knew that her chest was something sensitive to her. The Colonel himself had seen it plenty of times, but he’d known the genius for half of her life. These people, her team, were almost strangers. Rhodey didn’t know whether to worry about his friend or be proud that she was getting more comfortable with either her body or the Avengers; either was a big step for her.

Tony’s toned legs had the odd scrape or bruise along them, no doubt from the Iron Woman suit or chasing around a rambunctious toddler. Steve caught himself staring before shaking his head and turning to Bruce, who was hiding his own blushing face in a book.

Steve turned to those in the pool to see Natasha dunking Clint underwater and Thor cheering her on.

“C’mon, lovebug,” Tony said, wrangling a squirmy Peter in her arms as she sat on the beach chair beside Steve, “Sunblock time.”

Steve decided to just get into the pool and save himself any embarrassment. If you asked him, he was just shocked at the genius’ pale skin and not at all fawning over how beautiful she looked. Steve was simply washed with admirable respect, as it was clear Tony trusted her team enough to be so vulnerable around them. Not only was she literally in a bikini, with nowhere to hide her scars or traumatic body modifications, she was also allowing them to be with her son. 

For that, Steve was certainly not ogling at her slight curves and toned muscle, nor was he appreciating how much seeing her like that reminded him what decade he was currently standing in. 

Her long brown hair was tied up, and her makeup was immaculate. It was odd to Steve that she had seemingly refreshed her makeup since the meeting. Even Natasha had come to the pool barefaced, given the activity they were participating in. Steve admittedly didn’t know much about cosmetics, but he knew they didn’t typically mix well with water. Either way, the soldier whipped off his shirt and set aside his shoes before diving into the pool and literally swimming away from the warmth swirling in his chest. 

“Jesus, Tony,” Rhodey chuckled, “You get paler and paler every time I come back from work. You keep that boy inside too much. Maybe leave the lab once in a while. Take him to the park or something.”

“Peter has sensitive skin,” Tony shrugged, lathering children’s sunblock on the boy in question. Her gentle hands caressed his baby soft skin which was considerably paler in comparison to Tony’s.

“Doesn’t mean you gotta make my nephew into a naked mole-rat,” Rhodey replied.

“Not a mole rat!” Peter cried indignantly to his uncle as his mother carefully applied sunblock to his face.

“That’s right,” Tony nodded, giving her son a serious face, “Stop being mean to my baby, sour patch.”

“Mean uncle Whodey!” Peter pouted, “Stinky face!’

At that, Natasha chuckled at the boy’s antics and Steve and Bruce couldn't hide their adoring smiles.

“Okay, boys,” Tony said with a smile on her face, “Play nice, or you both get time out.”

Peter sat up straight and looked up at his mother with a look of urgency on his face before miming zipping his mouth shut. Rhodey just rolled his eyes in response.

“Ca’ I go swimmin’ now, mommy?” Peter asked, bouncing up and down on her lap with a winning smile.

“You have to wait a little bit for the sunblock to soak in, Pete,” Tony replied, “Just sit in the shade for 15 minutes, then you can go.”

The genius began applying sunblock on her own skin, knowing Peter would protest wearing the gloopy stuff if his mom didn’t put it on too. Tony, once again, unknowingly earned the attention of most of the adults in the room. She was more occupied watching her son scribble on his coloring book with the crayons she had packed in his bag, her hands expertly massaging the lotion onto her legs, then stomach and chest. Her hands migrated to the exposed skin on the top of her breasts, effectively avoiding the reactor, and neck as Steve felt his throat go dry. Before he could stop himself from staring, he was accosted with a blast of water. Steve shook the water from his face and looked up to see Rhodey with a water gun, attacking him and the other avengers that happened to be staring at the billionaire. He looked up to see Bruce shaking water off of his hair and a deep blush spreading across his cheeks.

“Eyes up,” Rhodey called out with a mischievous grin, causing Steve to duck in embarrassment. Steve was a timid man when it came to women like Tony even back in the day, and that was with women from his own time period. A modern woman like Tony Stark, a woman that he admittedly didn’t treat fairly upon their first meeting was someone he couldn’t dream of shooting straight with. Plus, she was a dedicated mother with more things to worry about than Good ol’ Captain America giving her googly eyes. A woman like Tony could get any man (or woman) she desired, and Steve knew she wouldn’t choose a man that judged her harshly without him knowing her personally.

His attention was brought back to Peter who laughed loudly at his uncle’s antics, as the man continued to blast Thor for his own amusement.

“Mommy! Mommy! I wanna play with unca’ Whodey!” Peter exclaimed, turning to his mother. The genius was laying back in her reclined beach chair with her son at her feet, just relaxing in the shade.

“Just a few more minutes, baby bear,” Tony replied, running her fingers through her hair as she took down her bun.

“But, mommy!” Peter whined, climbing over to sit on her lap, “Wanna p’ay now!”

“I know, patatino,” Tony hummed, pulling the boy towards her and laying him flat against herself. Their chests pressed together and Peter rested his face on her collarbone, snuggling close, his chubby little hand laying flat against the arc reactor. Steve smiled at the idea of Peter adoring the light in his mother’s chest, his own personal nightlight that brought a whole new sense of security with her embrace.

“Just gotta wait for your sunblock to soak in,” Tony replied softly, her hands lightly rubbing the boy’s bare back, “Then you and uncle platypus can play all you want. Okay?”

“Okay, mommy,” Peter sighed, enjoying the feeling of relaxing in his mother’s arms. Peter was a mellow and well-behaved boy so moments like this weren’t uncommon. He loved just being with his momma. He liked having her in his sight but he LOVED being held in her arms.

The team looked on with fond smiles as the two Starks cuddled close, Rhodey taking a seat beside them and reclining with an audible exhale.

“Don’t get too comfy, Honeybear,” Tony smirked, “Pete’s gonna drag you into the pool in just a few minutes.”

“Want you to come swimmin’ wif us, mommy,” Peter said quietly, his eyes focused on a birthmark staining his mother’s arm. He circled the small spot with his finger, anxiously awaiting Tony’s reaction. Peter knew his mommy didn’t like swimming, she didn’t even like getting wet. Sometimes, if he splashes too much in the bath, Uncle Rhodey has to come in and help him while his mommy goes into her room and waits. At first, Peter felt really bad, he didn’t mean to be a bad boy; splashing’s just fun! 

Uncle Rhodey and Auntie Pepper tell him it’s not because he’s a bad boy, just because Mommy had some scary stuff happen to her. And getting wet sometimes reminds her of it. They tell him about a time before he was born that his Mommy was taken to a scary place and bad people did scary things to her. They told him that sometimes it gives her nightmares and that’s why he can’t sleep in Mommy’s bed with her some nights, even though he wants to! He wants to be there with his mommy so he can help her calm down from a nightmare just like she does for him sometimes!

Tony tensed slightly, her grip on Peter tightening a bit before she drew in a deep breath.

“Uncle Rhodey’s going swimming with you, cucciolo,” Tony sighed, combing her fingers through the boy’s curls. It was something she’s done since Peter was born, as touching her baby’s hair provided both of them immense comfort, “I’ll be right here watching you, though.”

“But, mommy,” Peter pouted, sitting up in his mother’s lap, “Wan’ you to come too!”

Peter knew his mommy was scared of the water, but he and Uncle Rhodey would be right there with her! She’d be okay, and see that the water isn’t scary! Even the avengers were there, too. His mommy would be kept safe and protected and she’d see how much fun swimming is! As long as no one splashes her, she’ll have so much fun with him and his uncle! Peter just knows it! Plus, mommy helps him get over his fears all the time. Like the time she showed him that there were no monsters hiding in his closet, or the time she showed him that his broccoli hadn’t been poisoned.

“C’mon, buddy,” Rhodey offered gently to his nephew, “We can have fun without your mom with us. She’ll be close by watching.”

“No!” Peter shook his head, leaning forward and resting his face onto Tony’s chest, “Wan’ mommy.”

“Peter—” Tony began before Clint interrupted.

“C’mon, Stark!” The archer called out, floating on his back, “You’re not going to deprive the kid of fun in the sun with his ma, are ya?”

“Clint,” Natasha began to reprimand, catching Steve’s attention.

“What? Team bonding, right?” Clint shrugged.

“Bruce hasn’t gotten in the pool,” Natasha pointed out with a nod in the Doctor’s direction.

“Bruce didn’t come with a kid,” Clint countered, “If Pete wants his mom to swim with him, she should swim with him.”

“Tony,” Rhodey said to the genius, ignoring the talk from the pool, “I’ll go in with him, don’t worry.”
“Mommy,” Peter mustered up his best puppy dog eyes and stuck out his bottom lip before saying, “Please?”

Tony tried her best to control her breathing. Her hands were hardly shaking where they rested on the small of her son’s back. 

“We would most enjoy it if you joined our team festivity, Stark,” Thor encouraged, “And your little Starkson would be comforted by your engagement.”

“Tony,” Rhodey tried again. He really didn’t want what was supposed to be a fun day for the family and new friends to turn into a PTSD-related panic attack; not if he could help it.

But Tony brushed him off. She didn’t want to appear weak in front of her team. She didn’t want to prove that she wasn’t good enough to be an actual avenger rather than merely a consultant. She also didn’t want them to think she was too good to give her son anything he asked of her, as innocent as the request was. The inventor was already overly critical and self-conscious of her decision to wear a bikini in front of the team, with nowhere to hide the scars littering her body. In her head, she tried convincing herself that she just wanted to show off that she was matching Peter’s baby blue swim trunks. It was sort of her thing, anyway, to coordinate her son’s outfits with her own.

But, for Peter, she’d do anything. She’d suck up her paralyzing fear of water, for Peter. She’d agree to even go poolside at all, for Peter. So, for Peter, the genius sucked in a deep breath and stood up.

“Tony,” Rhodey said, standing up to either intervene or at least take Peter.

“C’mon, pup,” Tony said, bouncing the toddler in her arms again, “Let’s get your floaties on.”

“Mommy come?” Peter asked with a smile.

“Yeah” Tony nodded with a wide smile. They’d all seen that smile before, and Steve would give anything to know if it was genuine. “Mommy’s gonna go in the pool with you, okay? But we gotta be careful.”

Peter nodded dutifully and held his arm out for Rhodey as he approached with the inflated water wings.

“Are you sure about this, Tones?” Rhodes asked quietly, “I could take him, he won’t put up much of a fuss once he’s in there. We both know —”

“It’s fine,” Tony shook her head, her smile not leaving her face but her eyes refusing to meet the Colonel’s eyes.

“Mommy, we gonna have so much fun!” Peter cheered, offering his uncle his other arm to slide the other water wing onto.

“Yeah,” Tony replied with her own toned-down level of cheer. Steve’s heart dropped as he realized Tony was not at all comfortable with the idea of getting into the water. Was it because of them? Was it because she’d caught Steve or Bruce staring at her before? Had they made her uncomfortable? Gosh, he’d really —

“C’mon, bambino,” Tony hummed, taking shaky steps towards the large pool. She looked over the surface of the water and swallowed hard. Steve was looking up at her from the water with concern, while Nat was somewhat shepherding Thor and Clint over to the deeper end of the pool, away from where Tony stood near the steps.

“JARVIS,’ Tony called out, her voice surprisingly even, “What’s the water temp?”

“The water is sitting a standard 78 degrees Fahrenheit,” The AI dutifully replied, “Would you like me to adjust it?”

“Yeah,” Tony nodded, “A little warmer, please… For the baby,”

“Certainly, madame,” JARVIS replied and the team felt the water get warmer around them. Not uncomfortably so, but it was definitely noticeable. Clint rolled his eyes and turned back to his attempt to explain the rules of Marco Polo to Thor.

“No cold water,” Peter said wearily, looking down at the water.

“Water’s nice and warm, kid,” Rhodey said softly beside them and Tony wasn’t sure if he was talking to her or to Peter.

“Uncle Whodey come too?” Peter asked, turning to face his uncle with a stunning smile.

“Of course,” Rhodey nodded, “I’m not letting your mom take all the fun.”

Tony appreciated his attempt to lighten the mood as she took another shaky step towards the pool stairs. Rhodey followed suit.

“Wait!” Peter called out, “We need the pool toys!”

“Right,” Tony chuckled nervously, turning around and walking Peter over to the beach chair that held the toys in question, “Silly me. How could I forget the pool toys?”

“Whatcha got, Stark?” Clint asked as he pulled himself up and out from the side of the pool, trudging over to the chair dripping wet.

“We got noodles and beach balls and water guns,” Peter called out excitedly, leaning forward in his mom’s grab to reach out for a toy. The boy was confident his mother would never drop him so he didn’t bother hanging onto her tightly.

“We got a whole shed of more, Legolas,” Tony nodded in the direction of the shed Peter had retrieved the toys with Steve before, “Knock yourself out.”

“Sweet,” Clint nodded and made his way over to the shed.

“Uncle Whodey!” Peter called out, extending his arms to hand over a beach ball to the Colonel, “We gotta p’ay vowwy ball!”

“You got it, squirt,” Rhodey chuckled, taking the ball from the toddler.

“And we need a noodle!” Peter exclaimed, reaching from Tony’s grip to grab a pool noodle. The boy hugged the red foam tube in his arms and gave his mother a cheeky smile.

“Okay,” Tony said, “Ready, bear?”

“Yeah!” Peter cheered, bouncing lightly in his mother’s arms as she slowly made her way back to the pool steps. She decided she’d already made a scene too big for the other avengers not to notice her trepidation. So, pointedly ignoring the screaming voice in her head and the pounding in her chest, she cuddled her baby closer to her chest and took slow and steady steps down into the shallow end of the pool. Tony focuses all her attention on the smile spreading across Peter’s face. She presses a quick kiss to his cheek and continues to wade a little further into the shallow water.

Tony hears the sound of someone entering the pool behind her, making her stiffen up and tighten her hold on Peter.

“It’s okay, Tony,” Rhodey’s calm voice sounds from behind her and she feels his hand steadily rest on the small of her back, “This is far enough.”

Tony nods, her shoulders still stiff with anxiety. The genius takes a deep breath before settling the toddler in her arms down to float in front of her.

“We swimmin’, Mommy!” Peter exclaimed, a look of pride evident on his face. Tony tried to focus every ounce of anxiety in her on the smile on her baby’s face. Peter was okay. She was okay. Rhodey was okay. They were in a pool in Manhattan, not a cave in Afghanistan. It was okay.

Tony took in another deep breath and gave her son a small smile.

“Yeah, baby,” Tony nods, “Just stay close to Mommy, okay?”

“Le’s go dis way!” Peter squeals, kicking his feet towards where Thor, Steve, and Natasha were floating, waiting for Clint to return, “Cap! Look’it me! I’m swimmin’ too!”

“Wow,” Steve smiled at the boy, “You swim really good, Pete. Look how fast you’re going.”

“Peter,” Tony called out, as the boy made his way further away from the safety of the shallow end, towards the deep end of the pool, “Peter, come to Mommy, please.”

“Mommy, le’s swim wif Cap!” Peter called out, turning back to face his mother.

“You have to stay in the shallow end, topolino,” Tony called out, her voice almost cracking at the end as her heart rate began to pick up again. Peter was out of her reach, swimming away from her. Sure, he was swimming towards the Great Captain America, but that was her baby. At that moment, her motherly instincts overpowered her self-preservation instinct as she waded further into the water towards her retreating son. As the water got deeper, it rose from just above her waist towards the bottom of her chest. The water began to slowly rise up her chest and Tony felt like the air in her lungs began to somehow liquify.

“Tony,” Rhodey called out behind her, “It’s okay. Stay right there. I’ll get him, he’s okay.”

Steve, noticing the look of pure panic on the billionaire’s face, instinctively scooped the paddling toddler up into his arms and held him securely against his chest.

“Everything alright?” The Captain asked, his voice filled with concern. He knew, logically, the boy wouldn’t drown on his watch. There were seven adults in the room with Peter that would obviously intervene before any harm came to him. But clearly, there was something the Colonel and the billionaire knew that the rest of the team didn’t and it was making them all very nervous. Tony just whimpered and nodded, her arms snaking around her waist and hugging herself tightly. Her eyes were distant and unseeing, glazed over with fear. And, she was shivering despite the warm water and sun beating down on her exposed skin.

Rhodey wades over to the Captain and reaches out to grab his nephew.

“C’mon, Pete,” Rhodey says softly, “Let’s stay closer to Mommy, okay?”

“But I’m swimmin’, Uncle Whodey! I’m swimmin wif Cap!” The boy replied, climbing into the man’s arms anyway, “It’s otay.”

“I know, buddy. But your mom wants you to stay a little closer to her, okay?” The Colonel said softly, turning to take the boy back to his mother.

“Is everything okay?” Steve asked with worry, but before the question could fully leave his lips, Clint came rushing back to the pool with a yellow inflated duck-shaped inner tube around his waist. The archer was giving out a mighty battle cry as he came running towards the pool before he jumped and cannonballed into the water.

The splash from the landing sprayed out far and wide, even getting Bruce the smallest bit wet from his spot. Natasha muttered out a curse in Russian, Thor bellowed in joyful laughter, and Steve just shook the water from his face. Peter squealed in delight before erupting in a fit of giggles.

“Tony,” Rhodey’s nervous voice sounded, causing Steve to look over at the billionaire with concern.

“Stark,” Steve exhaled, beginning to wade over to Tony who is visibly trying to keep herself calm but failing. The genius was beginning to hyperventilate and looked around the pool with eyes unseeing and blown out with fear. Once her eyes land on Peter still giggling in his uncle’s arms, safe, Tony frantically tries to make her way out of the pool.

Water splashed around her as she tried flailing out to the steps, the speed not sufficient enough to soothe her panic. Steve’s worry only increased, but he gently held Tony by the waist and helped her tread over to the side of the pool to make her escape quickly. Tony grunted and grabbed the railing once she was close enough to pull herself out of the offending water. She climbed out and scrambled to her feet, hurrying towards the door she, Colonel Rhodes, and Peter had entered from without looking back. Before she made it too far, Pepper Potts showed up in all her glory, holding a large fluffy towel.

“It’s okay,” Steve’s enhanced hearing picked up Pepper’s hushed voice as she wrapped the towel around the distressed engineer, “Everyone’s safe, Tony. Peter’s okay, you’re okay.”

Tony doesn’t even slow down as she continues her trek back into the rest of the building away from the pool, not even to acknowledge the light kiss Pepper places on her temple. Tony just allows the trusted woman to lightly guide her towards the elevator with a quiet promise to follow her up in a moment.

“JARVIS, please get a hot shower ready for Tony,” Pepper said softly as she watched the genius disappear behind the closing elevator doors.

“Certainly, Ms. Potts,” JARVIS replied dutifully. Pepper sighs and takes a few steps towards the pool, minding the water both Tony and Clint left slicking the pavement.

“Unfortunately, you will have to continue your team bonding exercise without Miss Stark. Feel free to stay and drink, eat, or whatever you please.” The woman said before turning and quickly following after Tony.

“Where mommy go?” Peter asked, looking up at his uncle sadly.

“Mommy’s gonna take a shower and rest a bit,” The Colonel explained gently, setting the boy down to allow him to float in the water, “How about you and I swim for a bit and then join her later?”

“No,” Peter squirmed around, kicking his little legs under the water, “Wan’ mommy!”

“Let’s give mommy some time, bud,” Rhodes calmly encouraged.

“Wan’ mommy, P’ease!!! Unca’ Whodey!” Peter cried out, flailing to grab onto the man.

Rhodes sighed and picked the boy up, holding him tightly against his chest.

“Alright, squirt,” He said, wading to exit the pool, “Let’s get you a bath, and then we’ll go see mommy.”

“Is Tony going to be okay?” Steve asked, his concern only growing.

“Yeah, what made her walk out on us? She even left the kid behind,” Clint asked incredulously.

Natasha replied by splashing the archer with a wave of water. The Colonel ignored Clint as he exited the pool and pulled off the water wings from Peter’s arms. Rhodes wrapped the boy in a fluffy blanket and held him close to his chest before turning to the Captain.

“Tony’ll be fine. She just needs some space,” was all Rhodes said before leaving the pool room with Peter. Upon hearing the soft sound of the elevator doors closing behind them, Steve looks over to the rest of the team with a confused look still etched on his face.

“Is- Did we- I don’t—” Bruce stammered as he rose from where he was previously seated, walking towards the pool with his eyes stuck towards where Rhodey and Peter had just disappeared.

“I was hoping we’d avoid it, but I was almost sure it was going to happen,” Natasha said almost wistfully.

“What do you mean?” Steve asked.

Natasha looked around at them all staring at her, waiting for an explanation. She rolled her eyes at their cluelessness.

“You guys heard about Afghanistan, what did you expect?” 

“What does Afghanistan have to do with a pool in Manhattan?” Clint asked.

“She was tortured into compliance, moron,” Natasha bit out as she began to float on her back, looking up at the sky through the glass walls.

“The physical exam she went through after she was rescued showed signs of water inhalation. It’s suspected that she might have been forced underwater or was even waterboarded.”

“Suspected?” Bruce asked with a look of horror on his face.

“She hasn’t said much at all about what they did to her there, just what they asked of her. Stark isn’t one to talk about what she’s been through. She plays it close to the vest so as to not let any weakness slip.” Natasha explained as if it were the simplest explanation.

“Then why—” Steve asked. His heart was pounding in his chest. 

Since coming out of ice, Steve had talked to a few professionals about shell shock and learned the new terminology surrounding it. PTSD, they called it now. Either way, as a leader, Steve was almost ashamed in himself for not seeing it in Tony. He saw a woman dealing with a lot on her plate. He knew she’d been captured and gotten out, but he didn’t dwell much on the fact that she’d spent months in an Afghan cave. He was a captain, damn it. He’s supposed to take care of his team.

“Why what?” Natasha asked, with an arched brow.

“Why’d you—” Steve shook his head, “Your assessment of her…”

“PTSD doesn’t make any of it any less true, I just omitted any justification for her behavior during my time watching her,” Natasha replied smoothly, never ceasing her peaceful floating.

“Why?” Bruce asked incredulously.

“Because she shouldn’t be in this line of work. She’s been through enough, and she had a toddler to take care of. I knew she didn’t want it, I was trying to keep her and Peter out of it.”

The men were shocked silent, only the sound of water rippling could be heard until Natasha spoke once again, “JARVIS, can we get the water temp down a few notches now that Tony’s not here?”

“Certainly, Agent Romanoff,” The AI replied, the water cooling down around them. It made sense now, why Tony wanted the water so warm. She wanted to do anything to not be reminded of that cave.

⋆⋆☆⋆⋆

Pepper walked out after setting a steaming mug of tea on the nightstand. Tony sat on her large bed wrapped in a bathrobe, her long wet hair tied up in a messy bun. The warm shower helped and JARVIS was showing her the live video feed of Rhodey giving Peter a bath, soothing the genius to see her baby safe and sound. Tony smiled sadly as Peter demanded to be taken out of the bath and to his mother. She knew her son was too perceptive of his own good, knowing his mommy was upset and wanting to be with her. With a sigh, she dismissed the video feed and pulled on sweatpants and an MIT shirt that still swamped her figure even years later.

“JARVIS, get ready to play Peter Pan for us, would you, pal?” Tony asked.

“Of course, madame,” JARVIS replied, his voice fond. 

Just then, there’s a soft knock on her door. Tony padded over to the door, opening it to smile at the sight of her son wrapped in a hooded towel resembling a duckling.

“Mommy,” Peter whined before reaching out towards his mother. Tony scooped the boy in her arms and held him close. 

“Hey, bug,” She soothed as she began rocking the boy back and forth.

“Here’s his clean clothes, he wouldn’t let me dress him. He just wanted you,” Rhodey said, walking to her bed and setting a small stack of folded clothes with a bottle of baby lotion on top.

“That’s fine, I got him from here. Thanks, Sugarbear,” Tony smiled.

“Are you sure? I can stay, Tony. If you need help with anything, anything at all.”

“Yeah, I think we’re just going to have some quiet time. Watch Peter Pan and snuggle. I might even join him for his nap,” Tony sighed, never stopping the rocking motion as Peter snuggled close to her.

“Okay, that’s good. You two need to rest. But we’re having dinner as a family. No excuses,” The Colonel said sternly, eyeing Tony with all his concern still evident.

“Pizza,” Peter murmured sleepily against his mother’s neck, causing the two adults to chuckle. 

“You got it, buddy. Take care of your mommy, I’ll see you two for dinner,” Rhodey said fondly before sparing Tony another look.

“Bye uncle whodey,” Peter sighed sleepily and let his eyes flutter shut.

“See you later, platypus,” Tony smiled, causing her best friend to nod and walk away. 

Tony softly shut her door and carried Peter to her bed. She lied the boy down and ran the towel gently across his bare skin and through his damp curls. Tony was surprised that the boy was allowing her to even put him down, to begin with, but she figured she wouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth and proceed cautiously and quickly. 

It took her no time at all to lather the boy in baby lotion and stick him in a pull-up that Rhodey so graciously provided. Easily enough, she wrangled her boy into little grey sweatpants and his new favorite War Machine shirt. Tony shook her head with a smile on her face, of course, that’d be the shirt he’d pick out for her son to nap in. Tony then set aside the bottle of lotion and hung the hooded towel to dry on the door of her bathroom before climbing into her bed and cuddling close with her son.

“J, play the movie, with a volume that’s mindful of a sleeping baby,” She said softly. With that, Peter Pan began playing quietly.

“Not a baby,” Peter mumbled from where his face was buried in his mother’s shirt. The boy readjusted and scooted until he was laying chest to chest with Tony, like he was earlier by the pool, his cheek smooshed beside the arc reactor.

“You’re my baby, tesoro,” Tony hummed and began running her fingers through the boy’s still slightly damp curls, “You’ll always be my baby boy.”

Tony was so content she could almost forget entirely that the Avengers were still in the tower, probably wondering why she just up and left their bonding sesh. She could practically ignore the remnants of the anxiety and dread lingering in her chest and stomach. All Tony could feel at that moment was Peter. She could feel his weight on her chest, his breath tickling her skin, his little hand grabbing a handful of her shirt and his hair through her fingers. The billionaire buried her nose in his curls and immersed herself in the moment. Pepper and Rhodey were both in town, and they were going to have dinner like a family. Her family was home and it was warm. Warmer than an Afghan cave and an empty Malibu mansion. And best of all, her baby was right here with her, in their home, safe and sound. And that was more than she could have ever asked for.

Chapter Text

Peter was, in the simplest terms, upset. It was the Friday before Mother’s Day and Midtown was making a much bigger deal about it than he remembered them doing last year.

The Literature Club was selling Mother’s Day cards and flowers to fund their literary magazine. The Geology Club was holding workshops to create basic crystal jewelry and other trinkets for the holiday. And the Home Economics elective classes were making chocolate-dipped strawberries and other treats for mothers of the students. That was just the beginning of campus festivities celebrating mothers.

Peter never knew of Mother’s Day being such a big deal, especially at school. Sure, for kids with loving mothers, he understood the importance of the holiday. But, there were kids just like him that didn’t have a mother. There were even more kids that had bad relationships with their mothers. For those in question, holidays like Mother’s Day just inspired guilt and longing. Seeing other people love their moms as much as the average person does, makes kids like Peter realize just how much was taken from them by not having a loving mother.

It was easy enough to just walk past the kids heckling passersby to buy whatever it was they were selling, he could just stick his earphones in and book it down the hall. But, when Ned had come into their Spanish class 10 minutes before the bell rang with red and pink treats in a small Tupperware container and a wide grin, Peter realized getting out of today with minimal damage was easier said than done.

He was, understandably, very sensitive when it came to talk of his family. Especially his mother. Talking about the late Mary Parker often led the conversation to the late May Parker. Peter was very close with both women, more so May than Mary to no fault of anyone. May just happened to be there for a larger portion of his life. And she was amazing. Just as loving and warm as his real mother had been. 

Peter always thought about considering May to be his mother, and Ben his father. But, he knew that neither of them really wanted children. While the couple surely loved Peter as their own child, he was still their nephew. Not their son. He was just closer to his aunt and uncle because they were the closest thing to him that filled the gaping hole in his heart that Richard and Mary left when they died. And it wasn’t until May bled out in Peter’s arms that he begged to any God listening for a mother. He didn’t think he needed one after Mary died because he had May. And she was more than enough. But, without her… Peter was lost without a mother.

“Peter!” Ned called, waving a hand in front of Peter’s face, “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Peter shook his head to rid himself of the dread blooming in his gut, “What’s up?”

“I was telling you about the reject pile of cake pops and chocolate-dipped strawberries I have from Home Ec, but you seem to be elsewhere.”

“Sorry, man,” Peter sighed, “Today’s just been… I don’t know.”

“What’s wrong?” Ned asked, shoving the Tupperware into his friend's chest. Peter took the dish into his hand and sighed, grabbing a lumpy chocolate-dipped strawberry before taking a bite.

He chewed thoughtfully and set down the Tupperware before scrubbing a hand across his tired face. He wanted to ask Ned to just forget about it, that it wasn’t a big deal. But today was his weekly internship day. And he really wanted his teenage angst bullshit to be done and over with before he made it to Tony Stark’s lab. Plus, he was spending the weekend with the genius in the tower and didn’t want the holiday to spoil his fun.

Peter’s been friends with Ned for more than half of his life, since right after his parents died and he moved to Queens. Ned was by his side through his grief then, and again when May was murdered. Peter just knew his friend would understand.

“It’s just…” Peter swallowed, “It’s Mother's day on Sunday. And I… y’know.”

“Oh,” Ned’s face softened, “I’m sorry, man. That’s gotta hurt like crazy every year.”

“It does,” Peter nodded solemnly, “Everyone’s making a huge deal out of it this year for some reason. So I can’t really just… ignore it like I always have. It’s like the universe is subtly rubbing it in my face that I don’t have a mom.”

“Didn’t you and Ben spend the weekend in last year? Maybe you guys can do that again?” Ned suggested, wanting to help cheer his friend up.

“He’s working all weekend,” Peter shook his head before scoffing, “He asked Ms. Stark if I could stay at the tower since he won’t be home much. I guess he thinks I still need a babysitter.”

“I think he just didn’t want you to be alone this weekend,” Ned offered with a sad smile, “But, you’ll be with Ms. Stark! And that’s perfect, right?”

“How is that perfect? Doesn’t really change the orphan part.” Peter squinted with skepticism.

“Yeah, sorry man. I can’t really fix that,” Ned shrugged, “But she’s like… she’s basically like a mom to you. So you get to spend Mother's Day with her! It’s okay to, like, be sad about your mom and your aunt but, you’ll be with the next best thing!”

“What do you—” Peter’s question was cut off by the bell ringing. The teen huffed out a breath of frustration and watched students begin to trail in. He figured he still had a few moments before there’d be people eavesdropping, and Peter was desperate for an answer.

“What do you mean? She’s my boss, she’s not—” Peter whispered to Ned.

“C’mon, Peter,” Ned sighed, “You tell me all the time how motherly she is with you. And I know you really care about her.”

“What are you—” Peter shook his head in disbelief. What was Ned even saying?

“You told me on Monday that you and Ben had brunch with her on Saturday. That you spent last Friday night with her at the tower. That she made sure you ate enough, that you guys even had ice cream on her couch and watched Inside Out. You even said she comforted you when you cried. That’s pretty mom-like behavior if you ask me.” Ned explained with a nonchalant shrug.

“That’s not—” Peter was cut off by Ned shaking his head.

“She does things moms do for their kids. What your mom must’ve done for you before she died, and what I know for a fact May did too. Ms. Stark clearly cares about you, dude.”

“I don’t—” Peter began, his voice small. The idea of Ned thinking Ms. Stark acted like a mom towards Peter honestly scared him. Did Ms. Stark really feel that way? Maybe it was just a mistake. She didn’t mean to be all… motherly… Right? She’s just...really nice and caring.

Right?

“She’s not…” Peter shook his head, “She doesn’t feel that way. I couldn’t possib—”

“Peter,” Ned sighed again, “I bet if you asked her, she’d admit it. She cares about how you feel, and wouldn’t want you to be hurting the way you are now. Right?”

“Well, yeah, but,” Peter replied, “That doesn’t mean she loves me like a son!”

“I think she does,” Ned shrugged. Before Peter could respond, the late bell rang and their Spanish teacher, Señora Hernandez came rushing in.

“Lo siento, chicos!” She announced, “I was gathering supplies for today’s activity, so I was a little behind.”

Peter glanced at his teacher shuffling through stacks of art supplies on her desk and sighed. Of course. They were going to make something for their mothers today, weren’t they?

“Today, we are doing something nice. We’re having a unit exam next Friday, so we’ll begin preparation for that on Monday,” Sra Hernandez announced, “Today, since it’s the Friday before Mother’s Day and I don’t really want to start a new lesson so close to the exam, we’re just celebrating the holiday.”

Señora Hernandez began instructing the class on folding and constructing a tissue paper flower tied to twisted green craft wire and secured with tape. She went into detail, going over each step and showing the class what each step should look like. It was a simple craft that would take a majority of the class time to execute with over 20 students to instruct and accommodate to. 

“Now, when I come to you,” Señora Hernandez announced with a smile, “You can pick one to two colors of tissue paper. Then you can begin cutting and folding the flowers. If you have any questions or need any help, feel free to ask a neighbor or me. Once your flower is done, come to my desk and get your wire. ¿Entiendes?”

“Entiendo,” The class replied in unison. 

“And what are they for?” A random voice asked from the back. A collection of voices replied “Mother’s Day, duh!” or some other variation of that exact sentiment. 

“Mother’s Day is on Sunday and these are for your wonderful mamas at home,” Sra Hernandez replied with a smile. 

“What if we don’t want to make these for our mothers?” A familiar voice asked. Peter whipped around to see none other than Michelle Jones staring at the teacher with an expression just short of a scowl. 

“Why wouldn’t you want to make one for your mom? That’s your mom. The least you could do is make a paper flower for her?” Another voice chimes in, Peter noticing it was the voice of Cheryl Tang. He wasn’t particularly friends with the cheerleader in question, but he’d had several classes with the girl since elementary school. Ben used to be close friends with Cheryl’s dad, so the two students often went to the other’s birthday party or other family events. The two knew each other enough to not be strangers, but not enough to be friends. 

“The least I could do? What are you talking about?” Michelle asked. 

“That’s your mother? Don’t you love her and w—“ Cheryl began but was interrupted by Sra Hernandez. 

“Ladies, please,” The teacher tried to calm the interaction as she could see both students very passionately discussing a very touchy subject. 

“No, as a matter of fact, I do not love my mother. She’s never done anything for me and—“ Michelle bit back, ignoring the teacher’s injection before Cheryl responded,

“How could you not love your mother? She’s your mom! She gave you life, she—“ 

“She gave birth to me then dumped me with my dad and my grandmother. She was never a mother. Not to me. She’s a stranger.”

“How could you say that? She—“ Cheryl seemed distraught. She, herself, loved her mother. Her mother was her best friend. And to hear Michelle speak so poorly of her own mother, it almost felt insulting to Cheryl. Peter, ever-the-helpful, wanted to just diffuse the situation without invalidating either girl’s feelings. So, gently, he spoke, “Cheryl, not everyone has a loving mother like you do. It’s great that you do and I’m glad you want to appreciate her on Mother’s Day, but not everyone else is lucky enough to have that.”

“It’s different for you, Peter,” Cheryl replied, not unkindly, “Your mother is dead. And so is your aunt, so you have no choice. But Michelle has a choice and—“

“What the hell’s wrong with you?” Michelle asked, now she seemed angry, “Why would you say that? You think he doesn’t kn—“

“Ladies,” Sra Hernandez attempted to regain some sort of semblance of control over the class again. Once attention seemed to be on her, she placed her hands out, to calm the situation. 

“Ladies, Señor Parker is right,” Señora Hernandez began, “Not everyone in life comes from or gets to go home to a family that includes a loving mother. That doesn’t mean they are any less loved or important. We can still love and appreciate what we have without drawing attention to what others may or may not have. Michelle, you’re more than welcome to skip this activity or give your flower to someone else you care for this Mother’s Day. Perhaps an aunt or you mentioned your grandmother? Do you have a good relationship with her?”

“Of course, I’d do anything for that woman. She’s my whole world and I love her very much,” Michelle nodded with passion, almost as if she was ready to strike someone about to badmouth the woman in question. 

“That’s very sweet, mija,” Sra Hernandez replied with a smile, “Why don't you make your flower for her, then? Just a very small way to show her you love her and that you were thinking about her today. How does that sound?”

Michelle looked up at Peter with a sense of trepidation. It almost seemed as if she was asking him for permission, which confused him. Peter just offered her a smile and an encouraging nod. Just because he was having a crisis over the holiday, didn’t mean he wanted anyone, especially a friend like Michelle, to too. That’s just how Peter is. Michelle then hesitated for a moment before nodding in agreement, “Yeah, okay.”

“Muy bien,” Sra Hernandez smiled. Luckily, Cheryl held her tongue. It was likely she was realizing that perhaps she was just lucky, rather than to expect everyone to have what she had. 

Señora Hernandez proceeded to pass out the preferred colored tissue paper to each student as per request. 

“So,” Ned chimed, “Are you gonna make a flower for Ms. Stark?”

“What?” Peter gaped, “Are you insane? Why would I do that?”

“Same reason Michelle’s making one for her grandmother,” Ned replied smugly. 

“Ned,” Peter warned. He was starting to get uncharacteristically frustrated. Despite this, Ned seemed unfazed. Ned didn’t want to push his best friend, but he also didn't want the holiday to ruin his best friend’s weekend. It actually upset him to see Peter hurt so much when Ms. Stark was there for him. 

“You don’t have to accept her as a mother, Peter,” Ned began, “She’s not going to replace your mom or May. But I know for a fact that they’d want you to be happy and accept all the love you can get. Ms. Stark cares about you, and you can’t deny that.”

“But,” Peter mumbled, “You don’t think it’s like… betraying them? Like I’m moving on or something with someone that isn’t even family.”

“She is family, just not by blood. You know that’s just as important, right?”

Peter nodded. 

“It’s not betrayal, dude. You deserve to be happy. You deserve to have as many people love you as possible. You’ve got me and my family, of course. Ben, most of all… And you’ve got Ms. Stark! That’s awesome and I know how happier you’ve become since you started spending more time with her.”

“But,” Peter began. Ned continued, “Dude, make her a flower, don’t make her a flower… whatever you want. I just don’t want you feeling like you don’t have someone who cares about you the way May and your mom did. That’s all I’m trying to say.”

Just then Señora Hernandez came up to Ned’s desk and allowed him to pick out his desired color of tissue paper.

“Peter,” The woman smiled kindly, “If you’d prefer to sit out on this activity, you’re welcome to either do homework for another class or even just listen to music on your phone if you’d like.”

Ned looked up at Peter to gauge his reaction. Peter was conflicted. Sure, he knew Ned was right and that his brain was just bullying his heart into not seeing Ms. Stark as a mother. His brain knew that Poor Peter Parker didn’t have a mother, because all the women that try will die before Peter even has the chance to appreciate it. But, right now, his heart wouldn’t shut up. This wasn’t the first time his heart told him that his brain was just overprotective; protecting the body and soul from further destruction. It happened whenever he found himself happy and secure with Ms. Stark, like on their late-night lab sessions, or movie nights in the penthouse. If Peter didn’t acknowledge that he had someone that held him, loved him, fed him, and cared for him like a mother, then when she inevitably died, it’d hurt much less. Or even better, she wouldn’t die at all. As long as Ms. Stark didn’t fall under the Poor Peter Parker Curse™, she’d live a long and happy life. Right?

So, maybe Peter lets his heart win this time… Would Ms. Stark even want a stupid tissue paper flower that he made for a Spanish class arts and crafts project for Mother’s day? No, right? She’s a billionaire, with a big fat capital B.

“I think she’d love it, Peter,” Ned said softly as if he was reading Peter’s thoughts himself. And, heck, maybe he was. Ned seemed to have a strange Peter telepathy, always knowing what his best friend was feeling just by one glance. Right now, Peter couldn’t be more grateful for it.

“Can I get yellow and red, Sra. Hernandez?” Peter asked with a hint of a smile.

“Por supuesto, cariño,” The teacher replied with a smile, handing the boy his requested materials, “If you boys need any help, just ask me, okay?”

“Gracias, Señora Hernández,” The two replied in sync.

The boys get to work on their paper flowers, chatting mindlessly about their history paper that had been assigned earlier that morning. They planned on working on it together during study hall, so they didn’t have to worry about it over the weekend. It was a family holiday, after all. The paper wasn’t due until next Friday, but the boys liked getting the first draft done almost immediately so they could spend a few days consulting each other and MJ for the revisions.

As if summoned, MJ came over to their desks and showed them her nearly completed flower with a smile. Peter returned the smile and held his own flower up to her, he was nearing the end of the folding process and he was proud of how well it was coming together. Ned was already done, just waiting for Peter so that they could go up to retrieve their green wire together.

“I used mama’s favorite colors,” Michelle said as her fingers expertly secured the last tab on the flower, “I think I’m gonna give it to her when she picks me up from school. Dad and I got her actual presents for Sunday, so this will just be a dumb little school thing. Just from me.”

“I’m sure she’ll love it just as much as her other gifts,” Peter assured her as he finished his flower up. He spun the tissue paper flower delicately in his hand to admire his work, “Maybe even more, since you took the time to make it yourself.”

“Yeah,” Michelle nodded, “Tony Stark will feel the same way.”

“Wha—?” Peter looked up at her with wide eyes.

“C’mon, loser, we all know a mama bear when we see one,” Michelle shook her head playfully, “I’ve known since she chaperoned that zoo trip.”

“What do you mean?” Peter asked.

“She tripped Flash and bought you dippin’ dots and a turtle plushie,” Ned replied for her.

“Then you fell asleep on her shoulder on the way back to school,” Michelle added with a shrug.

“God, that was embarrassing,” Peter sighed, covering his eyes with his hands.

“She seemed fine with it,” Michelle smiled, “Plus, no one would give you a hard time about it. Not after everything you’ve been through. No one here’s that cruel, y’know?”

“Not even Flash has brought it up,” Ned agreed.

“Flash saw?!” Peter cried, burying his face in his arms on his desk.

“It’s fine, Parker,” Michelle said, casually fixing up the petals on her flower, fluffing them out, “Like we said, no one’s that cruel.”

“Whatever,” Peter sighed, standing up and leading the trio to Señora Hernandez’s desk.

Luckily, the rest of the period went without mention of the holiday. His friends were able to expertly talk around the upcoming Sunday altogether as if the art project was random and there wasn’t a holiday just two days away. Peter was grateful, as he figured the more he dwelled on it, the more nervous he’d become.

Before he knew it, it was hours later and study hall was crawling to an end. He and Ned had finished their rough draft nearly 20 minutes ago and were just sitting in agonizing boredom, waiting for the final bell to ring. The tissue paper flower felt like it was burning a hole in Peter’s hoodie pocket, where he had delicately tucked it away; checking on it every so often to make sure it didn’t get crushed.

Restlessly, he pulls out a blank sheet of printer paper from the stack in the center of the table Ned had gathered for the two to brainstorm on. Peter begins doodling random bits and bobs, mainly little spider webs, a little cheeseburger because his powers made him already burn through the large lunch he had eaten and made him a bit peckish, amongst other things. Ned looks up from his phone and looks at Peter doodling with a small smile. Peter was never one to sit still, not as long as Ned had known him, anyway. The Parker boy always had to be doing something, even if only just internally. Whether that be bouncing his leg, tapping a pen, or counting floor tiles, Peter was always occupied subconsciously doing something . Doodling was a common occurrence for him.

“You should make Ms. Stark a card,” Ned suggested as he nudged Peter’s side with his elbow.

“What do you mean?” Peter mumbled half-heartedly, his eyes glued to his paper where he carefully drew an Iron Woman helmet.

“To give her with the flower, make it official,” Ned shrugged. Peter froze for a second before looking up at his friend. By then, Ned had already resumed scrolling on his phone, not paying much attention to Peter as he waited for the bell to ring. Peter looked at him for a long moment before deciding he was right.

Peter continued doodling so he could think of what to write on the card, or what to decorate it with. He had about 15 minutes until the bell would ring and he’d have to meet Happy out in front to take him to the tower. Peter racked his brain for something that wasn’t pathetic or embarrassing and unfortunately came up with nothing. He let out a frustrated sigh and was about to crumple up his doodles when he stopped to actually look at it.

The paper was covered in little Spider-Man figures: his mask, webs, a crude doodle of his web-shooters, and a little scribble of droney. It also had a large variety of Iron Woman related doodles: her helmet, her repulsors, the arc reactor, even a tiny little Dum-E with his dunce cap on. The gaps in the paper were filled with little doodles of food and even scenes of Spider-Man kicking Captain America in the face and stealing the man’s shield. Peter couldn't think of a better design for a card if he tried. 

This was his subconscious’ doing. He had absent-mindedly drawn whatever his body brought forth with muscle memory while he thought about spending Mother’s Day weekend with a woman he’d grown to love more than he ever intended to.

Acknowledging this, Peter carefully folded the paper in half and scribbled a note inside. All he could do now is put it all out on the table for his mentor and hope she didn’t laugh at him for too long.

Suddenly, the bell rang and kids quickly scattered to get the hell out of there. Peter packed up, carefully tucking away the card so it didn’t get crumpled up. He fished out the flower from his pocket and fluffed out some of the petals that had been the smallest bit smooshed. Satisfied with his work, Peter turned to Ned, waiting for the boy to finish packing up. Soon enough, the boys were walking towards the student pick-up area. It was then that they passed by the botany club packing away the last of their unsold plants for the day. Peter saw a sign that prompted passersby to ask about their cactus flowers for Mother’s Day which stopped him in his tracks. He walks up to the booth, Ned treading behind him.

“Hey, can I ask about the cactus flowers?” Peter spoke to Jeremy Cochran, a senior boy he used to eat lunch with when Ned was out of school for an entire month with some horrible stomach bug he picked up from traveling abroad. 

“Oh,” Jeremy smiled at Peter, setting down a carton of the plants in question. They were small potted cacti with flowers blooming beautifully on top, ranging from white to yellow and bright pink, “Well, cactus flowers are a symbol of maternal love in Native American culture. Like cactus flowers, a mother’s love won’t die for even the harshest of conditions; it can withstand pretty much anything with enough care.”

“Really?” Peter asked, looking down at the petite flower with a hint of awe.

“Yeah,” Jeremy explained, “They also have really prominent medicinal properties, which can represent a mother’s protective quality over her children.”

“And so you guys are selling these for Mother’s Day?” Peter asked, looking back up at Jeremy.

“Yeah,” He nodded, “They’re only like a buck fifty now that we’re all gonna go home now.”

Without hesitation, Peter fished out his wallet from his back pocket and handed Jeremy two dollar bills.

“I’d like one, please,” Peter said with a hopeful smile. Jeremy nodded and took the money, handed him his change, and carefully transferred the cactus with the brightest flowers blooming beautifully on top of it. Peter took the plant with a grateful smile.

“Thanks, Jeremy,” The boy nodded, “Have a good weekend.”

Jeremy nodded in return and Peter and Ned continued their way to the front of the school.

“Dude, now you’re totally going to show me up on Mother’s Day.” Ned groaned, “All I got my mom was stupid knife set which I’m almost certain she already has.”

“You think Ms. Stark will like it?” Peter asked as he spun the cactus in his hand, mindful of the pricks. 

“I think she’ll love it, Peter,” Ned smiled, ‘“It’s from you , anyway.”

“Ha,” Peter exhaled, “Maybe you’re right.”

Just then, Peter looks up to see Happy pull up. He turns to Ned and gives him his normal goodbyes, and wishes him and his mom a good weekend, asks Ned to give his mom a kiss on the cheek for him; Ned agrees to.

“Hey, Happy,” Peter greets with a wide smile as he hops in the backseat, chucking his backpack to the car’s floorboard and delicately setting down this two flowers, the paper one and the spiky one, on the seat beside him so he can buckle his seatbelt. Once the belt is secured, he scoops them back up and holds them securely on his lap.

“Whatcha got there, kid?” Happy asks with a quirked brow, Peter usually brought with him poster boards for science exhibitions or models of whatever science or history project he was working on. Never a paper flower and a real-life cactus.

“Oh just some flowers,” Peter replied with a shrug. As sure as he was about giving them to Ms. Stark, he was still nervous. He wasn’t sure how to put it all into words in such a way without embarrassing himself. He was hoping to take the car trip to the tower to figure out what he was going to say to Ms. Stark when he gave it to her. Then he began to panic…

Should I give it to her now? Should I wait for Sunday? Do I wait until after dinner? Do I give it to her before breakfast? What if she’s allergic to the cactus flower or something? What if she—

“Oh, right,” Happy nodded with a thoughtful hum. Peter was speechless. Did Happy know what they were for?

He was quiet for the rest of the trip to the tower, and only uttered a quick thank you before darting from the car to his designated entrance.

“Good afternoon, Peter,” FRIDAY chimed pleasantly.

“Hey, Fri,” Peter greeted quietly, his gaze glued to the gifts in his hands.

“Boss is currently in the shower, just came back from a board meeting.” The AI announced, “She requested you prepare or order yourself food while she finishes up.”

“Okay,” Peter cleared his throat nervously. He had to keep reminding himself that Ms. Stark was someone he could trust with his life. She wasn’t someone who would just walk out of his life over some stupid arts and craft project and a cactus flower. Tony was someone he trusted wholly and she had been very careful to not break that trust. He didn’t have to be nervous around her.

Peter went rifling through the fridge, looking for something to reheat. He automatically grabbed one of the Capri suns there for him and sucked it down as his eyes scanned the food available.

“How old’s this lasagna, FRIDAY?” Peter asked as he pulled out the large glass dish from the fridge.

“Boss made that lasagna Wednesday night,” FRIDAY responded.

“You think she’d mind if I had some?” Peter asked, already grabbing a serving spoon from the drawer with utensils.

“Of course not,” FRIDAY replied, he could almost hear a hint of a chuckle in her voice, “In fact, she was worried about it going to waste.”

“Well that won’t be an issue with me around,” Peter mumbled with a smile as he served himself a large serving onto a plate before chucking it into the microwave. He finished off his juice pouch and threw it away before replacing the lasagna to its place in the refrigerator. He was humming and lightly thumping his fork against the table, waiting for his food to finish reheating when his eyes fell onto the cactus flower again.

Just as dread was about to start swirling in his gut again, he sighed and decided to stop being ridiculous. For now, the gifts would wait in his room until Peter was ready to give them to Ms. Stark. Out of sight, out of mind. 

After placing his fork down, the teen fished the card out of his backpack and set it on the counter beside the gifts. Then, he unzipped his backpack and carried the three items to his room on Ms. Stark’s private floor.

He’d had the room for the last three months, and he spent nearly every other weekend there. After Ben found out about Peter’s extra-curricular activities, and he allowed himself to freak out for a couple of days, he decided it was best that Peter spent more time with Tony to get some proper training under his belt. Ben wanted his nephew to be as protected and prepared for anything that could come his way as a crime-fighting vigilante. Thankfully, it was an easy stipulation that all parties could agree on: Peter spends a few days a week (including every other weekend) at Stark Tower, either upgrading the suit’s safety protocols, learning how to properly use said protocols, or training in hand-to-hand combat. 

He had massively improved in his fighting skills and he almost never gets hurt on patrol anymore thanks to his training. He and Ms. Stark spend a lot more time together, just as much time goofing around and relaxing as they do putting in hard work. It’s been a crazy last few months and Peter hasn’t been this happy since… well, since before . That had to count for something.

After safely depositing the gifts on his desk in his room, he went back to the kitchen and dug into his reheated lasagna. He was shocked that it wasn’t bad at all. Ms. Stark isn’t particularly known to be a great cook, and the two almost always eat takeout when Peter’s over. But he was also used to the culinary talents of Ben and May Parker, which left a lot to be desired. Maybe that’s what made this lasagna taste so damn good. Before he knew it he was wolfing it down when Ms. Stark came walking in.

Her bare feet padded lightly against the smooth floors as she ran a towel through her long dark hair.

“Hey, kiddie,” She greeted as she grabbed a cup and filled it with water, “How was school?”

“Good, Ms. Stark,” Peter gulped his mouthful with a nod, “No homework this weekend.”

“Why don’t I believe you?” Tony teased with a quirked brow as she sipped her water. 

“Would I lie to you?” Peter asked, his voice muffled from the food being crammed into his mouth. Tony giggled and shook her head before pouring him his own glass of water and sliding it over.

“No,” Tony said before taking another sip, “I guess not.”

“This is really good lasagna, Ms. Stark,” The boy said as he scooped the rest of what remained on his plate and shoved it into his mouth. He chewed and hummed pleasantly.

“Oh, thank you,” Tony nodded, setting her towel on the back of a chair sitting beside the kitchen island, “It’s my mom’s recipe.”

“I didn’t know your mom cooked,” Peter said before gulping down his water.

“I didn’t either,” Tony replied as she took Peter’s plate and fork from him, despite his protests, “Ana Jarvis gave me her cookbook after my parents died. Apparently my mom used to love cooking before she had her own family. The lasagna is something I practiced making a lot during my early twenties.”

Tony rinsed off Peter’s dishes before sticking them in the dishwasher. She wiped off her hands on a nearby dish towel and refilled her water cup. If she’s drinking this much water, she must be pretty dehydrated, Peter thought.

“Well, it was delicious, Ms. Stark,” Peter nodded his thanks, “FRIDAY said you wouldn’t mind if I had some, I hope it’s okay—”

“Oh, of course,” Tony assured him with a wave of her hand, “There’s plenty and it’s probably gonna go bad if it doesn’t get eaten soon.”

“Did you cook a lot with Ana Jarvis?” Peter asked, his mind still reeling from learning he had just eaten a recipe from Maria Stark.

“Baked, mostly,” Tony replied, her hip settling next to the counter, “We had chefs and stuff, so Ana showed me how to bake as a way to give me something to do and stay out of my dad’s way, I guess.”

“Did you enjoy it?” Peter asked after he drained the rest of his water, placing the empty cup in front of himself. Again, despite his protesting to do it himself, Tony took the cup and topped it off before returning it to the boy. He tipped his head in a silent thanks before taking another gulp.

“Yeah,” Tony smiled fondly as she thought back to the times she spent with Ana in the kitchen, “She and Jarvis always looked after me well. They were loving and kind. They encouraged me and praised me at every turn. They were very special to me.”

Peter’s throat tightened at the sight of emotion over the billionaire’s face. Her eyes were soft and her mouth was quirked into a content smile. His chest tightened as he saw her think back at her childhood with fondness. Peter was glad she had people who loved and took care of her the way the Jarvises did. He’ll always be grateful they were there for her.

“They must’ve been amazing people, then,” Peter said softly, “Considering how you turned out, they’d have to be.”

Tony chuckled and shook her head, “They were the best. I know they would’ve loved you.”

“R-really?” Peter choked.

“Yeah, who wouldn’t,” Tony shrugged before finishing off her water and placing her cup in the dishwasher, “Maybe I can show you some of Ana’s recipes. She made the best lemon cookies, ugh, they’re to die for. You can take some to Ben and show him I’m capable of feeding you.”

“Alright, so what’s on the agenda this weekend, kiddo?” Tony continued on, “Does your suit need any patching or are we training? Are you low on web fluid? Maybe we should work on a way to pack more volume into the canisters. I don’t like the idea of one running out while your swinging across Manhattan, it keeps me up at night—”

That was all it took for Peter to be filled with the certainty to do it at all and the courage to do it right now. Tony paused in her rambling as she saw Peter stood there frozen staring at her. She couldn’t hear the boy’s heart pounding in his chest or feel the way his throat went dry with emotion. Tony couldn’t know what was going through his head when he seemed to blink tears from his eyes before clearing his throat and saying, “Uhh, I’ll be right back, Ms. Stark. I gotta grab something from my room,” and running off.

Tony stood with a quirked brow and an air of confusion around her.

“He okay, Fri?” Tony asked the empty room.

“Nothing seems out of the ordinary to me, boss,” The AI replied. Before Tony could press, Peter came bounding in, his arms seemingly full of stuff.

“What’s all this, Pete?” Tony asks as Peter set a small potted cactus with blooming flowers, a red and yellow tissue paper flower, and a handmade paper card onto the counter in front of her with a small smile.

“Well, my school was making a huge deal about it, and at first it got me pretty blue. But, Ned and MJ basically forced me to realize instead of being so sad about what I don’t have anymore, I should show my appreciation for what I do have now,” Peter rambled, “So we made these flowers in Spanish class, I tried keeping it from getting squished but it’s a little somber-looking now, sorry. But, I made it myself and Uncle Ben always says that those presents are worth more than anything money can buy.”

Tony stood shocked still looking down at the three items. She wasn’t sure what to make of it, or the kid’s nervous rambling.

“Oh and one of the things that clubs were selling were these cactus flowers,” Peter continued, “My friend Jeremy is part of the Botany club and he told me that to Native Americans, they represent maternal love since they can survive pretty much anything. And cactus flowers are known for their healing properties, too. That represents a mother’s protective quality over her children.”

Tony’s heart swelled in her chest. Of course, it was Mother’s Day that weekend. Ben had mentioned that this weekend was one in particular that he didn’t want Peter to be alone for. Without question, Tony agreed to take the kid for the weekend. 

It wasn’t until after FRIDAY had asked her if she still wanted a bouquet of flowers delivered to Ana Jarvis and Maria Stark’s respective resting places, much like she had every year, that it had dawned on her why. Peter was going to spend his second ever Mother’s Day without May Parker, the woman who had raised him and loved him as her own. 

Of course, that would be difficult for the kid. And Tony agreed that he shouldn’t be left alone for such an occasion. She figured she’d bug the kid the whole weekend so he didn’t have a free moment to be so sad about everything he’d lost in such a short life. She was also prepared for him to stand his ground and tell her he just needed space to grieve. Either way, she’d be there for him. Just like always.

Because it took one, Peter Benjamin Parker, to crack her in what had to be the lowest of low points in her life. Peter gave her so much happiness and confidence in herself. He gave her more than she’d ever been able to repay him. He gave her something to look forward to, something to live and thrive for. He gave her everything.

And now, here he was, giving her gifts for Mother’s Day. And here she was, choked up with emotion and tears clouding her vision. 

“I had never heard of that before,” Peter continued on, unaware of his mentor’s emotions, ”It sounded really nice and Ned had already talked me into making you a card. So, I wanted to get you more than just a little paper flower, y’know?”

Tony willed herself to grab the card and look it over. Tiny little doodles of Iron Woman and Spider-Man littered the outside of the card, as did doodles of burgers and french fries, hot chocolate with marshmallows and pizza slices. Tony could see with one look that the card represented not only their bond as heroes but also as regular people. 

Because at the end of the day, after the wounds are patched up and the bad guys are put away, Tony and Peter spent time together doing things any pair of people who cared for another would do. Eating, watching movies, helping one another. That’s what families did. That’s what Ana and Jarvis had done; that’s what Tony and Peter do.

Inside the card, in the kid’s charmingly sloppy handwriting, the words 

Happy Mother’s Day, Ms. Stark. 

Thank you for always being there for me, 

and for letting me always be there for you.

You’ll always be my hero. 

With Love, Peter (Kid)

stared back at her.

When she was finally able to tear her eyes away from the card, she saw Peter staring back at her with his eyes impossibly wide.

“Do you, uh,” Peter stammered, “Do you like it?”

“Oh, Peter,” Tony sniffled before pulling the kid into a tight hug, “I love it, honey. You have no idea what it means to me. What you mean to me.”

“You mean a lot to me, too,” Peter said into her shoulder, his arms wrapped tightly around her waist, “You were a mom to me when I really needed one. I can’t ever thank you enough for it.”

“If you make me cry any more than you already have, I might have to kick your ass,” Tony sniffled again, her hand coming up to wipe away the fat tears on her cheeks, “I love you, kiddo. I don’t say it enough, but you have to know it’s true.”

“I know,” Peter hummed as he wiped away tears of his own, “I love you too.”

If Tony pressed a kiss to his cheek, if they forwent lab time that night because Tony ended up just crying when she thought about the card again an hour later, if they spent the evening cuddled up on the couch and eating greasy takeout like always, if they spent the next day trying Ana Jarvis’ lemon cookie recipe, if they went out to a noisy brunch that Sunday and stuffed themselves with french toast, and if a month later, Peter still saw the cactus, tissue paper flower, and card displayed on her desk in her office at SI, then that was no one’s business but theirs. 

Chapter Text

Tony desperately wanted to stop herself. She knew this was a terrible idea. Unfortunately for all parties about to be involved, she wasn’t left with much of a choice. Ross had given her basically no time, and Steve had given her no room to negotiate. Tony never wanted to involve a kid still enrolled in high school (if her quick scan of what FRIDAY had compiled on the kid was accurate) in this mess. But again, she had no choice.

It was easy enough to sweet-talk her way into May Parker’s apartment. Tony was recognizable and surprisingly doing well in the press, that paired with her smart appearance and pretty smile was more than enough for the woman. 

Mrs. Parker had let her in with a kind smile and an insistence that she brewed tea for the two of them to pair with her fresh walnut date loaf. This led to an over-excited May Parker rambling about nutrition and how difficult it could be to get teenage boys to get all the vitamins and shit they needed for healthy development… or something? Don’t ask Tony, a plastered smile and convincing nod compensated enough for her to not have to actually listen to what the woman was saying. 

Before she knew it, the two women sat beside each other on the cozy couch situated in the living room. Tony gazed around the apartment and thought it was adorable, very homey. She could see signs of life in it that just weren’t present in Tony’s own home. Whether it was a kicked pair of shoes or a stain or chip on the coffee table, it was clear there were many memories in the space surrounding them. The Tower, no matter how many people it housed at any given moment, never looked lived-in… it never felt like an actual home . Not quite like this. 

Tony smiled at the framed photos on the mantelpiece as May continued rambling on about omega vitamins or iron deficiencies or… something. Again, it’s very important to not ask Tony. Her mind had about a million things running through it at the moment, she couldn’t be bothered to be an attentive student on nutrition right now, nor ever. It didn’t seem odd to Tony that there seemed to be an absurdly large amount of school photos of the same face all over the apartment. She figured the Spider-Kid just came from a very loving family with a doting aunt looking after him, and that made her feel warm and fuzzy but she wasn’t sure why.

“So,” May’s voice cut through Tony’s distracted gaze, drawing the billionaire’s attention to her, “What did you say brought you here? I’m sorry my head’s all over the place today.”

Tony politely smiled and placed her teacup back in the saucer before clearing her throat, “Um, I’m here to talk to Peter. He applied for a grant provided by Stark Industries. I was so impressed by his application I had to meet him, and you, and hopefully, discuss the next steps.”

“Grant? Peter didn’t tell me about any grant?” May shook her head, her brow furrowed, “Maybe he told—”

“Kids these days are so excited to share things with their friends that they forget to tell their family. I bet it slipped his mind that he applied.” Tony offered easily.

“Maybe,” May muttered, still looking put-off, “I just… Peter’s been such a big fan of yours since he was little, I couldn’t imagine he’d keep something like that from me or—”

The two were interrupted by the sound of muffled arguing coming from behind the front door and a key jingling in the lock.

“How many times have I told you —” a low and steady voice called out, upset, only to be interrupted but a higher-pitched, nearly frantic one,

“Would you stop treating me like —”

The bickering continued as the door to the apartment swung open, the voices much louder this time. Tony’s eyes shot to the door and her jaw dropped at the sight before her. Two teenage boys of the same height, weight, hair color, age, and fucking face were barking at each other in front of the apartment door. Tony was flummoxed, they both looked just like the kid she was here to pick up and take to Germany. 

There weren’t two spider boys, right? The idea that there was more than one person behind the mask had crossed her mind a time or two but seeing a pair of identical twins wasn’t something she would ever even think to consider.

“Boys!” May called out, her face instantly changing from confused to stern, “What is the matter with you two?”

The two stop going at one another to look towards the woman addressing them. The one on the right, his chocolate curls obviously have escaped the copious amounts of hair gel he’d meticulously applied very well complimented his oversized sweatshirt and skinny jeans. 

Tony figured that was Peter as he gaped at her in awe when his eyes landed on her, the argument with his twin brother obviously since forgotten. His identical counterpart was dressed in a white t-shirt underneath an open grey button-up and dark jeans. His hair was smushed underneath a dark navy cap, chocolate curls poking out on the sides. 

This brother, though, either hadn’t noticed Tony at all or couldn’t care less that the billionaire superhero was sitting in his living room, because he just relayed whatever it was that riled them up to his aunt.

“He thinks he knows everything and that I— stop it!” The boy grunted and shoulder bumped his brother who was frantically patting his arm, obviously trying to get his attention. But again, the boy remained unperturbed in telling his aunt what was bothering him as he continued.

“He never fuckin’ listens to me then gets mad when I so graciously save his sorry ass from any trouble, and I—”

“Arvin!” Probably Peter, now graduated to Definitely Peter, cried as he shook his brother’s shoulder and pointed to where Tony remained sitting in shock on the couch.

Arvin looked about ready to clobber Peter but settled for looking in the direction his twin brother oh-so-desperately wanted him to look. Upon the realization of what exactly he was looking at, his face melted from one of fury to one of pure confusion.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Arvin asked.

“Arvin Eugene Parker!” May called out as she stood to instill what was nothing short of the fear of God into the boy, “Where are your manners, young man?”

“Sorry ma’am,” Arvin ducked his head in mild embarrassment from upsetting his aunt, “Won’t happen again, May. You have my word.”

He whipped his hat off and ran his fingers through his hair before looking at his twin expectantly. Peter stood frozen, his wide eyes glued on Tony. Arvin cleared his throat and bumped Peter’s shoulder again, hopefully reminding him of his own manners.

“Ms. Stark!” Peter squeaked in surprise, “Hey, I-I-I’m Peter.”

Tony bit back a chuckle at the boys before her before pointing to herself casually, “Tony.”

“What are you- what are you- what are you doing here?” Peter asked nervously, clearly flustered from seeing the woman in his apartment. Arvin snorted at his brother’s pathetic excuse at being casual in front of his lifelong idol. 

“Arvin,” May reprimanded again, causing the boy to sober up and nod with an apologetic smile.

“Excuse my brother, Ms. Stark,” Arvin addressed Tony, “He’s a real big fanboy of yours and he’s probably trying not to piss himself right now.”

“Arvin!” Peter cried in horror before shoving his brother, “Shut up!”

“Fuckin’ make me!” Arvin retaliated with an identical shove of his own.

“Okay, that’s enough!” May interrupted, her hands on her hips and her face sternly expectant, “If you two don’t cut it out right now, I’ll get the shirt.”

“No!” The two shouted in unison, a flash of panic on their faces, before straightening up and standing shoulder-to-shoulder with sweet smiles on their faces.

“The shirt?” Tony quirked a brow at the woman.

“It’s nothing, Ms. Stark!” Peter blurted, “It’s uhh… Anyway, what was it you said you were doing here?”

“You weren’t gonna tell me about the grant?” May asked Peter, her face soft.

“The-the grant?” Peter repeated with clear confusion in his voice.

“The September Foundation,” Tony supplied easily. Her eyes flicked over to Arvin who gave her a hard stare. For some reason, she felt like the kid was onto her. 

“Right,” Peter agreed, his demeanor more than unconvincing. 

“Yeah, remember when you applied?” Tony asked.

“...Yeah…” Peter replied nervously. Arvin looked back and forth between the billionaire and his brother with a sense of distrust on his face. 

“I approved!” Tony shrugged casually much to the dismay of the boys’ aunt, “So now, we’re in business.”

“You didn’t tell me anything, what’s up with that? You’re keeping secrets from me now?” May asked gently.

“Well, I just- I just know how much you love surprises, so I just thought I would let you know—” Peter was beginning to flounder. Whatever Ms. Stark was actually there for, he didn’t want to let her down. He knew he certainly didn’t apply for any sort of grant, certainly not one with anything to do with Tony Stark. If he had, May and Arvin wouldn’t have heard the end of it, they all knew that,

“With all due respect, that’s a load of shit,” Arvin interjected to everyone’s horror. 

“Arvin, I will not tell you again—” May was clearly at the end of her patience with these boys, the mouthy one in particular. 

“May, we know better than anyone on the planet if Peter had applied for a grant from Tony Fuckin’ Stark, that’s all we’d hear about for weeks. I don’t know why she’s actually here but it’s not for no damn grant,” Arvin explained, his face hard and unrelenting.

“I didn’t say anything because—” Peter began to only be interrupted.

“Don’t try to feed me any bullshit, P,” Arvin shook his head, “I’ve been shoulder-to-shoulder to you your entire fuckin’ life, I know you. And I know she’s lyin’.”

“She isn’t!” Peter insisted, “I didn’t say anything to you or May because I didn’t want you or her to be disappointed if I didn’t get it. I didn’t want to get my hopes up, y’know?”

“Like we’d give a fuck about that,” Arvin scoffed, “September Grant or not, we’ll always be proud'a you. You know that.”

“Arv,” Peter looked at his brother with pleading eyes. Arvin was the only person in the world that knew all of Peter’s secrets, even the big one. Peter had a feeling that whatever Ms. Stark was here for, it was spider related and he really needed Arvin to at least play along if he was going to get May to cooperate without asking too many questions.

Arvin studied his brother for a long moment before turning his gaze to Tony. She had remained seated on the couch, looking expectantly at the boys and occasionally glancing at her watch. Clearly whatever she wanted with his twin was time-sensitive. And sure, Arvin’s protective instinct for his brother was what drove him to do pretty much everything he did, but he didn’t want to ruin whatever opportunity Tony Stark was about to give him. While he didn’t trust Tony in the slightest, he knew he had to trust Peter and his instincts. Sure, his brother might very well be blinded by hero worship but he wasn’t stupid. He just really had to trust him.

Arvin sighed and relented, “Fine, I believe you,” he lied. 

“Mind if I have a minute with him?” Tony asked as she stood, straightening out her skirt and looking to both May and Arvin for permission.

May seemed on the fence. She wasn’t too skeptical before Arvin called the situation as he saw it: unlikely. May Parker knew her boys too well. She knew that Peter would more likely than not gush excitedly about the grant in question and his application for weeks to the point Arvin would consider smothering his own twin with a pillow. 

But she also knew Arvin was fiercely protective over Peter and always had been. Arvin spent his entire life by Peter’s side, fending off bullies and monsters under the bed, holding his brother after particularly scary nightmares and more grief than the two teens could ever imagine. Arvin was, in short, Peter’s protector. But that meant Arvin often let their trauma lead him to paranoia, constantly fearing people had the worst intentions when it came to Peter.

At the end of the day, May reminded herself, Tony Stark was a superhero. She was Peter’s hero. It was hard for May to think of any scenario in which a super-suit toting billionaire philanthropist would go to such lengths to pluck a random kid out of Queens for nefarious reasons. That paired with the fact that Arvin had relented definitely eased the woman’s mind. She looked to Arvin for his response.

“Whatever,” Arvin shrugged as he made his way back to the door to the apartment, “Have fun talking about your stupid grant.”

With that, the stoic twin stormed out. Peter and May let out identical sighs, the latter bringing a hand to massage her temples.

“I’m sorry for any trouble I’ve caused,” Tony piped up.

“Oh, no,” Both remaining Parkers insisted at the same time.

“Arvin’s just—”

“He just—”

The two sighed again.

“I’m gonna call him,” May said, pulling her phone from her pocket before turning to Tony, “You two can talk in the boys’ room.”

Peter offered an awkward smile before leading Tony to the bedroom he shared with his brother. Locking the door behind her, Tony looked around the room. It was clear two teenage boys inhabited it by the random articles of clothing strewn around the room and the bright posters adorning the walls and the bunk beds.

“You the Elvis fan?” Tony asked, pointing to a framed poster of the king himself.

“No, ma’am,” Peter shook his head, “That’s my brother. Arvin’s really into music from the ’50s and ’60s.”

“Hmm,” Tony nodded, clearly impressed, “I have to admit that does surprise me.”

“About Arvin,” Peter interjected with a grimace, “I’m really sorry about him, Ms. Stark. He’s just super protective, is all. He really is a nice guy, you just— You caught him on a bad day.”

“Ah, don’t worry about that,” Tony waved him off as she continued looking around the room and stifling a smile at the framed photographs of the twins from when they were much younger, “Not why I’m here.”

“Right…” Peter nodded, “I definitely didn’t apply for your grant. Arvin knows that.”

“Your brother’s really on top of things,” Tony agreed.

“Yeah, like I said,” Peter sighed, “Super protective.”

“Bet that can get infuriating,” Tony hummed, reminiscing on her MIT days and a menacing James Rhodes by her side.

“Well, he’s my brother,” Peter shrugged, “I know he’s only like that because he loves me.”

“That’s sweet,” Tony smiled. The genius casually pulled up a holographic video of a masked spider-like vigilante swinging through Queens as if the conversation prior hadn’t happened, “That’s you, right?”

“Wh- No?” Peter denied, causing Tony to roll her eyes.

“Listen, kid,” Tony sighed, “You and your clone really ate up valuable time that I don’t really have. You got a passport?”

“No,” Peter shook his head, “I don’t even have a driver’s license.”

“You ever been to Germany?” Tony asked.

“No.”

“Oh, you’ll love it,” Tony replies flippantly.

“I can’t go to Germany!” Peter exclaimed.

“Why not?” 

“Well, I got homework and—”

“I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that,” Tony rolled her eyes again.

“And Arvin for sure won’t be cool with it! He’ll flip, seriously,” Peter shook his head, “I’m sorry, Ms. Stark, I’d love to help you but my brother would actually kill me if I went to Germany with you.”

“What’s he thinking I’m gonna do to you?” Tony grumbled, “I’m not a kiddie snatcher or anything. I’m a damn superhero. Does he know that?”

“Yeah, he just,” Peter chuckles nervously, “You’re still a stranger and all. He doesn’t take too kindly to those.”

“What if I took you both?” Tony suggested. She really was at the end of her rope here, and she needed this kid on a plane to Germany as soon as possible. If taking his angry twin brother meant that he and his aunt would be at ease without asking too many questions, she’d easily do that.

“Us both?” Peter repeated in shock.

“Yeah, you and thing 2 can sit pretty and take a private jet. If he wants a separate room, that can be arranged, but he’s gonna wait in the hotel for you until we’re done. He’ll make sure you’re safe and—”

“I don’t know,” Peter sighed, “I’d have to talk to him.”

“Okay,” Tony nodded, “Any idea where he might be? I take it he knows about your arachnid activities.”

“Yeah, he’s the only one who knows,” Peter agreed, “Kind of hard to keep things from him, and he’s stubborn as hell.”

“I can tell,” Tony chuckled, “So, where can we go get him?”

“He’s probably with his friend Michelle,” Peter offered easily, “But we can see if May got a hold of him”

“Good call,” Tony said as she sauntered towards the door, her hand on the doorknob, “We should tell your unusually attractive aunt—”

The genius was cut off by the distinct sound of a thwip and the feeling of her hand being bound to the doorknob. 

She looked up at the kid and saw him pointing his crazy web shooter contraptions at her before he held a finger out and said, “Don’t tell Aunt May.”

“Okay, Spider-Boy, get me out of this,” Tony rolled her eyes at the boy’s dramaticism.

Once Peter had pried his idol out of the strong webbing, the two walked out into the living room where May was pacing. The woman stopped upon hearing the two enter before looking up at them.

“Is he okay?” Peter asked.

“Yeah,” May sighed, “He’s at Delmar’s with Michelle.”

“She must’ve been in the area, then,” Peter hummed, turning to Ms. Stark, “Delmar’s is a bodega just a few blocks from here. It won’t take long to go get him.”

“Perfect,” Tony hummed before turning to May, “Mrs. Parker, Peter has been offered a spot at the Stark Industries Internship Retreat in Palo Alto. It’s an all-expense paid trip, he’d get put up in a hotel and he’d be participating in workshops with other recipients of the September Foundation grant that qualify for the retreat.”
“What?” May choked, her eyes wide, “Palo Alto? California?”

“Ms. Stark said that Arvin could come with me!” Peter assured her, “That way I won’t be out there without anyone I know, and we’re out of the apartment while you work throughout the weekend.”

“You—” May turned to Tony. The poor woman looked so confused.

“Peter told me that Arvin wouldn’t be comfortable letting his brother go on a trip with a stranger,” Tony explained, “I figured you’d feel similarly, and it’s really no trouble if the two of them came. He could shadow Peter at the retreat since he doesn’t qualify as he didn’t actually apply. He’d even get his own room if he wanted, but he’d—”

“No,” May shook her head, “They have to share. You can’t separate them. They stay together the entire time. That’s my only condition.”

May wanted to say no. She wanted to ask the billionaire if she was crazy, that there was no chance in hell she’d let a stranger take her boys to California on such short notice. But, May felt a sense of ease at the idea of the two of them going together. She knew Arvin would look after Peter and Peter after Arvin. May knew her boys had an unbreakable bond and an ability to take care of each other better than even May could. She’d seen it firsthand when the boys first moved in after their short stay in foster care, once Ben and May finally got custody of them.

May knew the boys loved her and had loved Ben just as much, but they only truly needed each other. They’d proved that time and time again. And because of that, May surprised herself by deciding that Peter wouldn’t ever have an opportunity like this again. And Arvin tagging along made it that much more special, she figured.

“That’s perfectly fine,” Tony smiled.

“You stick with your brother, Pete,” May said to Peter, not giving the boy any room to argue, “No matter what, okay? If he tries running off on his own, you let someone know and you follow him if you have to, okay? I don’t want you two getting separated so far away from home.”

“I promise,” Peter nodded with a soft smile, “We’ll be okay, May.”

“You two gotta look out for each other,” May urged him, her hands gripping the teen’s shoulders.

“We always do,” Peter assured her, “I gotta go get him from Delmar’s, so I can tell him and we can pack.”

“I’ll take you,” Tony offered, swinging her car keys on her finger, “We’ll get there in a flash.”

Peter looked back to his aunt with sparkling eyes as he silently asked for permission. May hesitated for a second before her face softened into a smile, her baby was too excited to deny him. So, she nodded. 

“Love you, May,” Peter nearly squealed with excitement as he pressed a kiss to the woman’s cheek and gave her a tight hug, “Be right back!”

Tony had to suppress a smile as Peter practically skipped over to the front door and held it open, gesturing for the woman to walk through.

“After you,” He said kindly to the billionaire. Tony raised her eyebrows and turned to May.

“Quite the gentleman,” Tony noted, “You must be proud.”

“Very,” May nodded, “Arvin’s manners are usually better than what you saw, you’ll have to forgive him.”

“Water under the bridge,” Tony waved her off like she had done to Peter before. She found it endearing how badly the two of them wanted her to know that Arvin was a kind boy. She was more than inclined to believe it.

“Let’s go, short stack,” Tony said as she led the way to her car, smiling as she heard Peter send May another ‘I love you’ before closing the door and trotting behind the genius.

“You’ll navigate me, right?” Tony asked as they made their way down the stairs, “I don’t really know my way around here.”

“Yeah, for sure,” Peter smiled, “It’s not too far, Ms. Stark.”

“Okay,” Tony nodded, “We go get your brother and give him a rundown of what we told May. He knows not to spill your secret, right?”

“He’d never,” Peter scrunched his face as he held the door to the apartment lobby open for her, “He knows it’s to keep him and May safe.”

“Good,” Tony hummed. She unlocked her car and got settled, ignoring how Peter gaped at the vehicle before climbing in himself, “Then we won’t need to convince him to go along with us, right?”

“I’m sure he’ll get it, Ms. Stark,” Peter agreed as he fastened his seatbelt, “It should be fine.”

“Okay,” Tony replied. She followed Peter’s direction to a little bodega just a few blocks from the apartment.

She could see Arvin from the window out front. He was leaning against a wall, lazily sipping on a bottle of root beer beside a light-skinned girl with curly hair. She was pretty, she’d have to give him credit there.

Peter made his way into the bodega to collect Arvin, kindly waving to the man behind the counter, making Tony smile. Arvin watched his brother with a mild intensity as he took another swig of his root beer, the girl looking up at where Peter was approaching. Michelle, if Tony recalled, looked at Peter briefly before returning her attention to the book in her hands. Tony could see she was still attentively listening as her brows raised slightly when Peter began to talk animatedly and gestured towards Tony’s car. When Arvin looked at the car and Tony inside, she saluted the kid. His face hardened again and he adjusted the cap on his head before turning back to his brother, asking him something Tony couldn’t decipher. 

Whatever Peter was telling him, seemed to ease his mind, because he sighed and nodded before turning to Michelle. He seemed to ask her a question, as she nodded in response before punching him lightly on the shoulder. The boy smiled and pulled her into a quick hug before following Peter out of the bodega, making sure to wave to Michelle as he left.

It was nice to see Arvin smiling, Tony thought. He had the same twinkle in his eyes that Peter had. The same light and hope. The two exited the bodega (after they both waved at the man behind the counter again. Gosh, these boys are too friendly.) and Arvin disposed of his root beer bottle in the recycling bin before shoving the last bite of a candy bar in his mouth and throwing the wrapper in the trash bin. The boy chewed thoughtfully as he looked at the flashy sports car in front of him. Peter clapped a hand onto his shoulder before seemingly urging him to climb in the back seat with him.

The twins piled in the back seat, Peter’s excited smile back on his face and Arvin’s skeptical stare on his own. 

“All set, boys?” Tony asked, looking back at them, “Your girlfriend won’t miss you?”

“She ain’t my girlfriend,” Arvin grunted in response, “Where’re we actually going?”

“Germany. We’ll take a private jet, I have someone getting passports for the both of you, they’ll have your school ID photos on them,” Tony replied as she turned back around and started the car.

Peter clicked his seatbelt into place before nudging Arvin to get him to do the same. 

“So our aunt thinks we’ll be three hours behind when we’re actually six head?” Arvin asked as he fastened his own seatbelt, “How’s that gonna work, genius?”

“Arv,” Peter sighed, “Don’t pretend you haven’t lied about where you were before.”

“Yeah, but I’ve never been in a damn foreign country before, P,” Arvin hissed, “Sayin’ I’m with you at Ned’s house when I’m really at Pioneer with Jamie ain’t the same as saying I’m in California when I’m really in fuckin’ Germany, now is it?”

“It’ll be fine,” Peter shrugged, “If May wants to call us when it’s 3 AM in Germany, we can just say we were at dinner or that we were sightseeing with a group or something.”

Arvin just shook his head before looking out of the window. Tony held back a sigh as she pulled back up in front of the Parkers’ apartment. She knew this was going to be a long trip. Thanks alot, Rogers, she thought bitterly. God, she just hoped she was making the right choice here. Only time would tell, she figured.