Chapter Text
In six months, there had been twenty-five mishaps with the deviant android collections. Twenty-five times, and it was still the same individual-- someone, most likely an android, clad in what looks like all black pajamas and a ski-mask with white, goggle-like eyes. Some of the employees assigned to the job of locating and detaining deviants were calling this anonymous individual “the Spider”, though mostly from their odd ability to stick to walls just like an arachnid. No one was really sure how they were doing it, but Tony’s assumption was that they were a self-modified, deviant android, and probably has some sort of martyr complex.
“Sir, Squadron C has obtained the rouge deviant and is bringing it back. They lost the original one as a result of the occurrence, however.”
Speak of the devil, and he’ll appear, it seemed.
“Pronouns, Jarv,” Tony corrected his AI. He never did like calling androids ‘it’. “It’s only me, you don’t need to use ‘it’.” Unlike a majority of artificial intelligence these days, JARVIS wasn’t personified into an android, but it was almost better that way. Less of the drama that surrounded the entire android situation.
“Of course, my mistake.” Jarvis corrected himself. “Would you like the deviant sent to your lab upon arrival?”
“Yeah, sure. Go ahead,” Tony shrugged, stretching his arms straight up and standing up from where he had been sitting on the couch in the living room, sifting through various Stark Industries paperwork Pepper had sent to his tablet. “Any data on the ‘droid yet, or are we in for a surprise?”
“Very little was gathered, but I’ll send the report to your desk.”
Tony nodded as he made his way to the elevator and down to the lab. Once there, he headed over to his desk and sighed. Alright, he thought. This was going to be difficult, wasn’t it?
It was common knowledge that Stark Industries worked with CyberLife and assisted with their creation of androids and their artificial intelligences. It was common knowledge that, just like a majority of the population, Howard Stark had thought of the androids he helped to invent simply as machines that would do the hard, dirty work for him. It was common knowledge that Stark Industries continued to work with CyberLife today, almost doubling as their New York headquarters whilst being their own company, and helped to locate, obtain, and ‘fix’ the deviant androids-- at least, that’s what the company claimed to be doing and that’s what was reported to CyberLife. It was only known by a select few as to what was really going on behind the scenes with said androids.
Tony always knew that they were more than just machines-- they had individual personalities. They were alive. ‘Deviancy’ was just them realizing it, so why should they be punished? What he really did with deviants was fix any damages they might have obtained and help them blend into human society. A good home, a job, and a complete, thought out story to use if anyone asked about their past. If it got out that Tony was doing all of this, both Stark and his company would be royally screwed, so he was very hands on with the whole process-- the more he did himself, the less people involved, which meant less potentially blabbering mouths.
Tony entered his lab and pulled up the holograms from the table. Jarvis informed him that the squadron with the deviant should be arriving within the next five minutes as he scanned the very little information given to him. “Model unknown,” Stark mumbled as he read. “With a damaged audio processor on its head and leaking thirium 310 from capture and pre-existing dented thirium regulation pump.” He sighed, rubbing a hand down his face. “God dammit... hey Jarv?”
"Yes, sir?"
"Fire everyone on that team that caused damage to the deviant."
"With pleasure."
One of the things that irritated him the most about the squadrons he had to send out, he couldn't exactly do it himself without raising suspicion, was how careless they were. Those androids didn't deserve to go through more shit, whether accidental or intentional. Anyone who had a problem with his choice to fire people based off this and this alone could go ahead and sue him. People had tried before.
The hit to his head had deactivated Peter for a while, and when he 'awoke', he immediately noticed that a few things were wrong...
One: his hearing was muffled and pretty distorted. Most likely, that kick in the head had either knocked out, damaged, or even broke his audio processor.
Two: he was a little low on thirium 310, also known as 'blue blood', but not critically so. His diagnostic program told him that he could easily survive without it, but his systems may be running a little slower or less effectively, so he should probably look into replenishing that as soon as he got the chance to.
Three: he had no idea where he was.
Peter's LED went from yellow to red in an instant, the android jolting up to the table he'd been laid on. /Oh shit. Oh shi, oh shit, oh shit!/ He was so screwed, and-- dammit! Those Stark Industries bastards took off his mask! Now, they know what model he was, and possibly, even his serial number. If he got out of here without being reset, shut down permanently, or destroyed, he was gonna have to make some serious appearance changes. Keyword-- ‘if’.
“Kid, hey, relax. No one’s going to hurt you.”
Peter was visibly startled by the sudden, gruff voice behind him as well as a hand being placed on his shoulder. The boy whipped his head around to see Stark himself-- he was so screwed.
“Seriously, kid. It’s okay,” Stark attempted to reassure, lifting his sunglasses-- why was he wearing those inside?-- off his face and on top of his head. “Your stress levels are way too high and I don’t think either of us would like for you to self-destruct right here, especially with no real reason. Now if you were actually in danger, that I might understand. Going out your way and all that.”
Peter kept his mouth firmly hut, LED occasionally flashing yellow amidst the solid red as he glanced around what seemed to be a lab. Oh god, was he about to be disassembled? Ra9, save him now..!
“Alright, I probably have some explaining to do since you clearly think I’m about to harm you in some way. Which, granted, is fair considering what deviants,” Tony said with a little wave of his hand, filling the silence since the kid clearly wasn’t going to. Ugh, this was always so awkward, and now there was a kid here. A fucking child! Just his luck. “Props on the vacant expression and trying to act like you aren’t one, by the way. At least you have some survival skills.” He pulled a chair over and sat down. Usually, they’d at least be asking where they were at this point, but apparently not this kid. “So, you think I’m some deviant-destroying monster, am I wrong?”
Peter nodded slightly, wiping some blue blood from his cheek with the back of his hand.
A response, Tony thought. That’s progress! Maybe this kid won’t try and kill himself? Tony had never dealt with a child, or teenager in this case but screw technicalities, model before, let alone one who clearly had some shit going on seeing continuously risked his safety for other androids, and he felt that seeing one self destruct would be a little more... haunting than one of the adult models. Not that that was easy to deal with seeing either, to be fair. Still, Tony felt a little out of his depth and awkward right about now. “Alright, well, that’s not the case. Just a little facade so people don’t suspect I’m actually helping your kind, like I am, for obvious reasons.”
Peter had to admit, it was a little difficult to understand what Stark was saying with his screwed up audio processor, but he managed just as well. “So... “ he finally spoke. “You have us abducted so you can help us?”
“So he speaks,” Tony stood up, flicking his glasses down and was relieved to see the deviant boy’s stress levels were slowly declining, even if his LED did remain a bright red. Said glasses were able to scan an android and tune into their systems and diagnostic program-- just so he could check and see what was going on that wasn’t visible to him while he was at this fragile stage in the helping process. “And yes, but that’s just the surface of it. The ‘abductions’, as you so pleasantly phrased it and have been hijacking these last, what, six months? Anyways, those are just a part of that cover so people like the ones at CyberLife believe that we’re detaining deviants. Only a handful of people actually know that we’re basically the android version of the witness protection program with the fake names and stories and new jobs-- the whole sha-bang. And yes, I can fix up any damages you got from being detained. That’s not supposed to happen, and those people have been fired.”
Peter’s LED eventually faded from red to yellow, and after a couple more moments where Tony could see the gears-- literal and metaphorical-- turning, from yellow to blue. “Huh... “ he said softly. “I, uh, I wasn’t expecting you to be a, well, y’know, good guy.”
“Not sure if I would go that far,” Tony scoffed. “But I’m not a murderous asshole.” He paused, looking up at the ceiling. “Wait, shit-- shit -- ugh. Jarv? Is swearing in front of the kid alright, you think?”
“It’s fine, uh, Mister Stark.” Peter interjected, assuming the man was asking an AI of some sorts when he began talking to seemingly no one. “I’ve heard worse before, so... yeah.”
“Yeah, that sounds about right,” Stark shrugged. “Now, I have a couple of questions for you, if you don’t mind? You have interfered with a lot of my work and I’m curious about how you were able to do that and slip away just about each time. I know you’re a YT500 prototype model, but they typically aren’t able to, well, stick to walls like some kind of spider-bot.”
Peter raised an eyebrow to that comment. “Please tell me people aren’t actually calling me that. Are they?” he couldn’t help but the faintest of grins, however, when he spoke. It was nice to think that he’d done enough good work, for the most part, to have actually made a name for himself.
“I’ve heard ‘spider’, mostly,” Tony explained with a wave of his hand. “Not the ‘bot’ part though. No one was a hundred percent certain if you were an android or not until today, though that had been my bet.” He caught the kid’s brief smirk, and it really did hit him there that this was a kid. A child. He didn’t know how to deal with kids! He’d only helped adult model deviants up to this point and dammit, Tony knew he couldn’t deal with whatever-his-name-was the same as an adult model. God, he was going to need Pepper to help with this. He could just send him off to her once he was done fixing him up, and of course, ask his questions. “Alright, how ‘bout I fix you up, and then we trade questions. Yeah? Great.”
Peter had opened his mouth to respond before Tony answered for him, got up, and walked away to get some… probably parts or stuff like that. He stayed quiet during this, watching the man he’d previously despised and thought to be a ruthless murderer of his people with a careful eye. He couldn’t help but be wary still-- it seemed too good to be true, after all.
Today had certainly been a weird one.
Tony returned with an audio processor biocomponent and what looked like a facial piece in one hand and a little tub of wet wipes in the other. He tossed them to Peter, who caught them with ease, and walked over to the boy’s side. “Here, use these to wipe the blue blood off your face. It’s not exactly the latest fashion trend, if you keep up with that sort of thing.” Tony paused, glancing at the old, worn, and tattered black pajamas the boy was wearing and gestured to them. “Although, judging by that, I’m guessing not.”
“I don’t exactly have many options to choose from, y’know,” Peter pointed out. He opened the thing of wet wipes and began to wipe the thirium off of his face. “Uhm, if you have any of this stuff--” he held up a nearly solid blue wet wipe. “--to spare, would you mind if I, y’know, had some?”
“Not at all, kid,” Tony said with a wave of his hand. “Now hold still, this might sting a bit.”
Peter hummed briefly as a reply.
Tony placed his hand on the broken audio processor that was hanging by a thread, he must say, for a moment as a way to let Peter know what he was doing. After the moment passed, the man yanked the piece of machinery out like he was ripping off a bandaid. Surprisingly, it... it panged something inside of him to see the kid’s face contort from the pain it caused him. Yeah, he never liked seeing people get hurt, but this was different in some weird way. Tony decided to brush that aside for now as he gingerly replaced the two parts on the boy’s head. Once finished, he asked, “There. How’s that?”
Peter cupped his cheek and ear a little after Tony let it go, rolling his jaw a bit as sound once more began crystal clear. The difference replacing that part made was incredible! No longer was he trying to listen to words amongst what was like underwater static. “It’s perfect, as good as new,” the teen answered with the briefest, faintest smile. “Uh, thank you so much.”
“It’s nothing, kid. You really don’t have to thank me for common courtesy.”
“Oh, uh, right. Sorry.”
“It’s fine, relax.”
Knowing he’d just apologize again, Peter simply nodded.
Tony looked at him for a moment before going off to grab an extra chair and a small cup of thirium. “Here,” he handed the cup to Peter. “Why don’t you sit here, yeah?” He sat in his own seat.
“Uhm, yeah. Yeah, sure. Thanks.” Peter nodded, sliding off the table he’d been on and sitting down in the chair that was just pulled over. He drank the thirium in one swig, and his diagnostic program showed that their levels were replenished.
“How’re your diagnostics?” Tony eventually asked. “Everything checking out, or did I miss anything?”
“No, uh, nope. All green lights.” he paused. “Do those glasses you were wearing before let you see them too?”
“Smart kid.” the man smiled.
“I wouldn’t go that far.” the deviant boy quoted.
“Of course not. One thing that didn’t pop up was that your thirium pump regulator is dented. Why’s that.”
“‘Cause it’s still fully functional. Not a big deal.” Peter answered, fairly quickly.
“Hmm…” Tony hummed, skeptical. “Alright. Now--” he clapped his hands once. “I’m going to need to ask some essential questions, but don’t mind the occasional curiosity one. We can go back and forth so if you have any and so no one feels like they’re being interrogated. Alright?”
“Mhm.”
“Great. First, I’m assuming you have a name, right?”
“Yep, it’s, uh, Peter. Peter Parker.”
“Last name too? Huh, haven’t seen that before.”
“And a middle name. How many deviants have you helped?”
“Including you? Sixty-three.”
“How long have you been doing this?”
“Since CyberLife sent us a ‘warning’ memo about a year ago about an ‘error’ in androids’ programming and what to do if we encountered it. Obviously, that’s not what’s happening around here.”
“Yeah, I can, uhm, I can see that.”
“You run away from home?”
“I guess you could call it that. How many other people know about all this?”
“Three others. All very trusted people, so no fear of loose lips.”
“You sure?”
“There’s not a doubt in my mind.” His tone was so certain and assuring, it made Peter believe it as well. “Why’d you have to leave?” Tony asked, continuing the questioning. He furrowed his brows when he noticed Peter grimace briefly.
“Things change.” the teen answered, hurt seeping through his voice.
“Meaning?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Were you being hurt by someone?”
“Isn’t it my turn to ask a question?”
“Go ahead.” No one ever got here through a happy story, and Tony knew that. Many of the adults he encountered had difficulty, to say the least, to even think about whatever brought them to him, so he couldn’t imagine how that must weigh on a child. Hopefully, Tony thought. The kid’ll get help and work through whatever shitfest he has going on.
“Your dad, Howard Stark, worked with CyberLife a lot too, right?” Peter didn’t wait before continuing. “Do you know if he ever helped deviant androids? Or want to?”
“Definitely not.” He didn’t even have to think about it, unfortunately. “Sorry to disappoint.”
“It’s okay, not your fault. At least you’re helping out, I guess.”
“I guess. Now, whoever you had belonged to or whatever the case is, do you think they’ll come looking for you?”
“No.” Peter’s answer was curt.
“Are you sure?” Tony raised a brow.
“Yes.”
“Positive?”
“I said ‘yes’.”
The kid’s demeanor went from awkward to just about completely shut off in a snap. Something was wrong here, Tony could tell. He felt bad about this because Peter was just a kid, but he needed to know.
He was probably the biggest asshole for doing this, but in order to help, this was one of the essential things they needed to know. No need to risk the deviants safety more so once they help them get into their new lives by living and/or working right by the place their previous owners(s).
“How do you know?” Tony asked.
“I don’t want to talk about it.” Peter said, quieter now.
“Are they dead?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Did you kill them?” Tony knew it was an absolutely terrible thing to ask, especially a child, but many, many deviant androids did end up killing their owners out of self-defense. It sucked, but he just... he had to know. Feelings aside, work now.
Peter looked horrified at the accusation, and it felt like he’d just been punched in the stomach. “No!” he practically screamed, immediately rising to his feet. “I didn’t--” his voice cracked before he swallowed thickly and spoke at a quieter tone. “I didn’t kill anyone. OKay?”
Tony instantly regretted asking and he stood up as Peter began walking away from him. “I believe you, kid. OKay? I--”
“Can I use your bathroom? Please?” Peter interrupted.
The human of the two of them bit his tongue and nodded. “Yeah. Go ahead. It’s, uh, right over there in that back corner.” He pointed at the back right corner of the lab.
“Thanks…” And with that, Peter hurried off, wiping furiously at his eyes with his sleeves. Once Peter was gone behind the door, Tony plopped back down on his chair and ran a hand down his face. Great going, Stark, he thought. You broke the kid.
Pepper was so much better at this stuff than he was. She always knew what to say to people and how to say it. Maybe he should just pass the kid onto her and take his leave?
Further proof he was terrible with kids and why he should never have one. He’d end up just fucking them up.