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The August sun pressed down into the streets of Queens, heating the tarmac and making the air above the streets waver and distort. The smell of diesel and sweat was inescapable, stop and go traffic blocking the streets and tourists crowding the sidewalks.
Tony hated the city heat. He wanted air conditioning and he wanted shade and he wanted quiet. But here he was strolling along the burning sidewalk in sunglasses and a baseball cap, all because one kid had effortlessly wandered past his normally impenetrable emotional shell.
“I told Ned that water can boil and freeze at the same time but he didn’t believe me. It was so disappointing, because I know a lot of people don’t know that, but NED should know that. He said he needed to see it to believe it, so I told him to either bring me some cyclohexane and a turbo-molecular vacuum pump, or look up a video of it on YouTube.” Peter paused long enough to look up at Tony, suck on the straw of his iced lemonade, and take a breath before continuing. “He was at least smart enough to choose YouTube, but I wouldn’t be surprised if he actually checked craigslist for a turbo-molecular vacuum first. He doesn’t trust the internet.”
Tony put a hand on Peter’s shoulder to guide him around a young woman pouring water into a bowl for her labrador. “Can’t you two just look up porn like normal teenagers?” The woman whipped her head toward him in shock as they passed.
“Don’t you want us to feed our natural curiosity for science?”
“Of course, kid, but I want you to have fun, too. You know, experience all life has to offer.” Tony took a sip of his iced coffee, which was rapidly becoming warm watery coffee.
“Like heroin?”
The coffee rushed up Tony’s nose in his effort to not spit it all over himself, but after a few forced coughs and throat-clearings he managed to save most of his dignity. “No, brat, not like heroin.”
Peter snickered and then glanced around at the nearby stores and restaurants. “What do you want to do now, Mr. Stark? Want to go somewhere air conditioned?”
Tony knew that Peter enjoyed being out in the heat. He was only suggesting air conditioning for Tony’s sake.
“Whatever you want, kiddo. This is your afternoon.”
Peter glanced up at him for only a brief moment before deciding. “I’d like some air conditioning. There’s a bookstore the next block up, want to stop in there for a while?”
Tony could already imagine the cool blast of air that would grace his sweaty and overheated skin the moment he opened the doors. “That sounds like heaven.”
Peter gave him a bright smile and turned down another street, this one blessedly less crowded.
“Okay, I’ve been meaning to ask you, Pete. There’s a one day conference in Newark on recent advances in bio-engineering. I thought I’d stop in and I’ve got a plus one. It’s on the 24th, you interested?” Truthfully, Tony didn’t need to go. He was quite confident that they wouldn’t present any information that he hadn’t already been aware of for months, but he thought it might be a good experience for Peter.
In response, Peter stopped in his tracks, stared at him with big eyes, glanced around wildly, and then ran into traffic.
Not the reaction Tony was expecting.
For a split second he was paralyzed in shock, but then he darted after him, coffee leaving his hands to splatter onto the sidewalk next to Peter’s lemonade.
Peter had already disappeared past the first lane of traffic by the time Tony got to it. Then there were tires screeching, horns honking, and a quiet thump.
Tony’s mind and body froze, one foot in the street and one still on the sidewalk as the sounds of New York faded around him into a faint ringing.
“Get the fuck out of the road, dickweed!” The gruff call barely registered in Tony’s mind, but the young voice that followed certainly did.
“I’m sorry, sir, I was saving a turtle!”
Then Peter came trotting sheepishly back into view, holding a turtle. Tony let out a rush of breath and ran out to meet him halfway, taking him by the elbow and leading him quickly back to the sidewalk.
“For God’s sake, Peter, what the hell was that?”
“I was saving this turtle, Mr. Stark.” He held the turtle up to Tony as they stepped back up onto the sidewalk.
“You ran into traffic!” He hissed, trying and failing to keep his voice down when he realized how many people were staring at them. Some eyes followed Peter in wonder, others in annoyance, and still others were glaring at Tony in judgement, as though it had been his fault for letting this teenager run into the road.
He added jumping in front of cars in the middle of a conversation to the list of ways Peter Parker could give him a heart attack.
He kept leading Peter until they rounded the corner into the shade of a less-traveled alleyway, out of view of the main road.
“Peter, you can’t, can’t do stuff like that! I feel like I shouldn’t need to have this conversation with you,” Tony reprimanded, shifting about to relieve some post-adrenaline jitters.
“I’m sorry Mr. Stark, I didn’t mean to scare you! I just had to save Donatello, he was about to get run over.”
Tony looked down at the turtle again and noticed little purple painted designs on the shell.
“Is this... is this your turtle?”
Peter’s eyes rounded. “No no, he’s not mine! He belongs to a girl named Stephanie. She posted him three days ago, so I’ve been looking for him.”
“Posted him?” He watched the turtle slowly draw all its limbs into its shell.
“There’s a website for lost pets in Queens, so people can help look for them. I try to go on there every day. I can cover a lot of ground as Spider-Man!” Peter exclaimed. He tipped the shell up so he could peer inside. “I think he needs water.”
“Yeah, as Spider-Man. It’s one thing when you have your suit and webs on your side, but God, Peter! You could have been hit by a car!”
“Well. I was hit by that car. Do you think the bookstore would give us some water?”
Tony stared in disbelief. “Peter!”
Peter seemed to sag a little bit as he stared down at the hiding turtle. “I’m sorry, Mr. Stark. The bumper only clipped me but I think it knocked my shoulder out of its socket. I can’t move it too well and my hand is starting to feel kinda numb.” He glanced up, eyes frustratingly youthful. “Do you think you can help pop it back in?”
Any anger Tony had been feeling drained right out of him at Peter’s admission.
“Jesus, kid.” He took the turtle from Peter and stooped to put it on the ground, but the teenager cried out and reached to take it back.
“Mr. Stark, no! We’ll lose him again!”
“I have to put it down to fix your shoulder. It’s a turtle, it’s not going to go anywhere anytime soon.”
“We can’t take any chances, Mr. Stark, please! That girl has had him for seven years, she was really upset about losing h-“ Peter reached for it again but then hissed and brought a hand to his shoulder.
“Okay, okay, easy,” Tony quickly said, and looked around the alley. He spotted a dumpster with a small cardboard box next to it.
Once the turtle was safely in the box at their feet, Tony took a closer look at Peter’s shoulder and found that it was indeed dislocated. It had already begun to swell and turn shades of purple under his shirt, and Peter’s face pinched whenever Tony moved it.
He popped the joint back in place for him as quickly as he could, and at Peter’s involuntary grunt, he let his hand linger on his shoulder to try and rub some of the pain away. After a few seconds the tension began to leave Peter’s body and he gave Tony a tired but grateful smile.
All for a turtle.
It was frightening, sometimes, how selfless Peter Parker could be.
Tony gave one final, brusque pat to his intern’s arm and then picked up the box with the turtle inside. “Go ahead and call that girl. I’ll find us someplace where we can get some ice for you and some water for the turtle.”
“For Donatello.”
“Whatever, yes. Donatello.”
He felt Peter’s eyes on him as they started walking.
“Mr. Stark?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m free on the 24th.”