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There’s a hopeless feeling dragging Tony’s bones low with weight. He didn’t know he could be so exhausted or so broken, but now he is all too easily. His eyes are like blurry bruises he can hardly see out of. And he can’t wipe the fog from his brain, but his hands keep going because if he’s not tinkering then he’s not productive and that makes him feel useless. And he can’t be useless. That would be unacceptable. So Tony works until he’s shaking, until he’s running out of things to do. So he keeps getting up to refill his mug, working until he’s 99.8 percent coffee and it’s so much, he feels like a cloud drowning in excess. And soon there’s nothing in front of him and he’s staring blankly at his desk, swallowed in the darkness of either early morning or late night.
Peter ... His brain somehow manages to persist, an inkling of some kind. And there’s strong guilt there pumping through his caffeinated veins. Because Peter’s a kid. He’s just a kid with far too little experience and Tony can’t believe he let him fight. But if Peter's going to remain in the field, Tony tells himself that he’s got to be better for him. Work harder. Improve the suit and make more. Because he’ll never forgive himself if Peter goes down on his watch. He'll never forgive himself if Peter gets the worst out of the superhero gig, especially because he doesn't deserve it. He's too genuinely good. And Tony prays he never loses who he is. He swears he won't let it happen to the young hero, but he's seen people change...Tony hates the way he already cares, already sees the kid as perfect, but he can't help it. The kid is everything he isn't. Innocent with a heart of gold. Not yet touched with the need for cynicism.
Tony rubs at his eyes, grabbing more materials and putting them together and trying not to pass out. He tells himself now that it's for the kid. He knows he’s running on empty, but he just can’t stop. There’s more to be done. So much more. He has to keep going.
Before Tony knows it, it’s the next day and he’s still moving.
And then Friday’s voice is cutting across him, rattling in his ears and startling him enough to drop the tech in his hands.
“Sorry, Boss. I didn’t mean to interrupt, but I thought you would like to know that Peter Parker is here.”
“Thanks, Fri,” Tony mutters as panic and anxiety shoot through his system. He doesn’t want Peter to see him like this- barely managing to keep himself sitting up he's so out of it. He hates being like this. Cold shame and embarrassment coil up inside him, right around all of the other crap he doesn't know what to do with. His eyes slip in and out of focus on the table before him. He wonders why he's always such a mess in front of the people who matter most. Maybe it's his curse.
Tony nearly jumps out of his skin when Peter arrives. He’s already smiling brightly and rambling about school like the ball of energy he is. He sets his bag down as the door closes behind him and makes his way toward his mentor. When Tony turns towards him, Peter stops in his tracks.
“Mr. Stark, are you okay...?”
“‘M fine, Kid,” Tony mumbles dismissively, swiping a hand over his face. He feels the strong urge to either bang his head on the table or hide out somewhere to curl in on himself, away from Peter’s prying eyes. He knows he must look terrible. He sure feels like shit.
“Hey, Friday?” Peter starts in dread. “When is the last time Mr. Stark slept?”
“Boss slept five days ago for four hours and twenty three minutes.”
“Five days ago?!”
Tony shrinks away from Peter as he yells at him, his heart rate increasing.
“...And the last time he ate or drank anything other than coffee?”
“Five days-“
“What?!” Peter shouts and Tony flinches. “Mr. Stark,” he says, his voice cracking in worry.
“I’ve got more important things to do.” Tony shrugs, picking up some tech from his desk and fumbling it through his fingers. He doesn’t meet Peter’s eyes. Can’t. He’s making excuses. He’s always making excuses. But it’s better than living like a normal person and dealing with all of it.
Out of the corner of his eye, Tony watches Peter’s converses travel back and forth as he paces. “Go home, Pete. You don’t have to stay,” he says quietly because he knows how much of an inconvenience he is. That Peter shouldn’t have to deal with him. He should have his act together. Peter shouldn’t be responsible for fixing him. He can't put that on the kid.
Tony and Peter had gotten close lately, maybe closer than mentor and mentee; maybe they've even become best friends. But Tony is the adult here. And he feels that he should be looking out for the kid and not the other way around.
But Peter shoots his gaze towards the ceiling, no longer pacing. “Friday, can you place an order for Mr. Stark’s favorite pizza?” He asks the AI.
“Will do, Peter,” she responds.
“Thank you. I’ll be right back, Mr. Stark,” he announces, determined.
Tony watches the kid disappear before burying his head in his hands. His eyes sting rebelliously and he rubs at them in frustration. He feels properly drained now that he isn’t working on something. But no matter how exhausted he is, he can’t relax or sleep. He’s a wreck but it isn’t the first time. He’ll manage and survive just like he always does-
But Peter comes out with a pillow and blanket which he proceeds to set on the couch before he’s standing in front of his mentor again. Tony stares at the pair of black converse in the dimmed light of the lab in disbelief. This kid should be home building the LEGO Death Star with his friend Ted or whatever, not babysitting a grown ass adult who can’t get himself together. Tony feels like such a failure. And this situation only makes his head throb more. He loses focus for a moment, caught by just how bad he feels. He needs Peter blind to how vulnerable and weak he is right now because Tony feels like he’s letting him down. Letting them both down. And he’s ashamed of himself because Peter’s opinion of him matters more than he’d care to admit. So Tony’s on ice, ice that's too slippery to hold him.
Peter gently nudges Tony with a hand on his shoulder, softly calling his name. When Tony doesn’t look up at him, Peter crouches down to meet his eyes. “Mr. Stark, please. Come lay down on the couch and rest, eat some pizza, calm down.”
“I am calm,” Tony mutters.
“You’re shaking,” Peter says in a hushed, kindly voice.
“Why are you doing this, Pete?” Tony asks, almost defensive, his traitorous eyes burning and welling up with unshed tears.
“Because I care about you. Duh, Mr. Stark.” Peter flashes him a small cheeky grin before offering his hand in assistance. “Just to the couch?”
“Fine,” Tony agrees, grasping the kid’s hand and letting himself get pulled up. Peter drapes an arm across Tony’s shoulders to steady him.
Tony’s heart fills with a fondness for the kid that makes his need to be stubborn matter a whole lot less. He can't remember the last time he felt touched like this. The way Peter tells him he cares about him so effortlessly just amazes him. He blinks for a moment, trying to clear his eyes.
Tony lays back on the couch when they get there, resting his head on a pillow as Peter covers him with a blanket.
Friday then alerts Peter to the arrival of the pizza he ordered.
“I’ll be right back. Don’t get up,” he says in a rush, practically running.
Tony finds himself staring off into space until Peter comes back with the pizza and a glass of water and plate he got from the kitchen.
“Dig in,” Peter urges Tony before plopping down on the floor beside him to give him some space.
Tony's grateful for the silence and the room that Peter gives him. But it's weird for him to let himself be taken care of like this. He hasn't had much of that in his life. He's been his own moderator for so long now, and of course that's part of the problem. Tony stopped treating himself well a long time ago.
He’s just finished his second slice when Peter asks, “How are you feeling? Is this helping? ‘Cause if you need anything I can-“
“Kid,” Tony interrupts, knowing he’ll ramble on forever if he doesn’t. “This is good, okay?” Being around you is good. Tony thinks, feeling so much better than he did just ten minutes ago. Maybe Peter’s energy is wearing off on him. Or maybe it’s just that being around Peter is a relief, like he can finally take air into his lungs.
In the past few days, Tony has been more machine than man. He hadn’t had Peter to distract him, only work. He’d missed him. And it’s nice to be around another human being that Tony actually feels safe around. Especially after feeling so unsafe.
“Uh, Mr. Stark,” Peter starts nervously, his eyes darting back and forth from the floor to Tony. “Can I um- can I ask what happened five days ago?” His voice fizzles out into something small and uncertain. He tugs at his sock anxiously as if trying to displace the words he left hanging in the silence of the room.
Tony sets his plate aside and tugs the blanket a bit closer. “It was a phone call.” He pulls the blanket tight. Tight. Tighter. Tighter still. He hugs himself, trembling. “From Cap.” The words feel surreal when his tongue’s no longer trying to make sense of them in his mouth. Or maybe they’re just too real. It feels like bricks are pushing on his chest. Too heavy. He doesn’t expect to say much more than that but suddenly it’s like he can’t stop. Like he needs to get it out. “I- I gave him as much crap as I could before hanging up-“ Tony knows what he was trying to hide on that phone call through all of his snark and rage and bull shit... “I don’t think he gets how much I can’t with him right now. How just hearing his voice brings it all back.” Tears prick at his eyes like fire sparks and he almost doesn’t feel them at all when his throat constricts painfully on him. “I just get caught up remembering how he just stood there because he already knew what his damn friend did. To my parents- my mom- Jesus, I needed to be angry. I needed - I need -“ Tony shakes his head, gasping after a few sobs. “So I can’t sleep and I try not to think about it but I- I just- he put his shield through my chest. For a second there I thought he was going to kill me. I can’t get it out of my head. I-“ I was terrified. “It’s all I can see.” It wasn’t just the fear. It was also that Cap wasn’t on his side when it hurt the most. When he was at his worst. When he needed his friendship. Tony doesn’t think he can ever trust Cap again.
“I don’t know if we’re there yet, but can I hug you?” Peter asks tentatively. His eyes are full of tears too that silently slip down his face and make his chin tremble.
Tony barely nods before Peter’s practically on top of him and holding him tight in his arms. And Tony’s grabbing him like he’s a lifeline. He buries his face in Peter’s shoulder, fingers digging into the back of Peter’s shirt. “Dammit,” he cries, breaking down. “I’m s-sorry, Kid.” He hates being vulnerable like this. Hates being this raw. Hates the way his voice cracks. He latches onto the comfort Peter provides as he loses it. And he’s glad to have the kid there for him but it scares him too because he doesn’t deserve it. Peter shouldn’t find him worthy of it. He’s not that good of a person. He thinks too much and he never thinks enough. His actions have ruined lives. It’s just that he attracts so much hell and has turned the world inside out. He’s a hazard. But Peter still comes over to see him. He still grins at Tony’s jokes and works on projects by his side. And now he’s being held by the kid. And Tony feels so bad because he shouldn’t be putting this shit on Peter. He shouldn’t be sharing this with him at all. And it’s not that Tony doesn’t want this help, it’s that it’s wrong of him.
Because Peter's so kind and so good.
And because Peter likes Cap. He’s heard him talking about how cool the Avenger is before.
He shouldn’t have burdened Peter like this at all.
But Tony is so sleep deprived and frantic for relief of these nightmarish memories that he lets himself need Peter and slumps in his arms, crying profusely.
“It’s okay. It’s okay. I’ve got you,” Peter soothes, fingers drifting gently through Tony’s hair. “I’ve got you.”
Tony focuses on Peter, closing his eyes and trying to breathe. Trying not to think about how this may be affecting the kid or how afraid he is to fall asleep or how angry he made Cap on that last phone call.
Peter doesn’t speak again until Tony’s calmed down a little. “You know, you, Tony Stark are my hero. You’re wicked smart and brave and like generally awesome and one of the kindest people I know. And Iron Man has always been my favorite superhero and Avenger. You’re just so cool. You even built your own suit. How epic is that?! Cap is basically a dinosaur with a large frisbee.”
Tony laughs, melting at Peter’s words. “You’re such a good kid,” he breathes softly, voice full of emotion. They’re the sweetest words Tony’s ever heard and they hit him full force. To know that this kid, this amazing kid thinks so highly of him is both terrifying and exhilarating at the same time.
He feels comforted in his arms and it makes him feel almost like he’s being healed.
Peter thumbs Tony’s tear tracks softly as if trying to evaporate the hurt. The care Peter's treating him with leaves him a bit breathless and it doesn't make him want to let go any time soon.
“I love you, Mr. Stark.”
“Kid,” Tony gasps, sobbing into Peter’s shoulder.
He’s at a loss for words. He can hardly even count the number of ‘I love you’s he’s gotten on one hand, maybe three fingers at most (at least the ones that actually meant something, that weren’t from strangers shouting at him in a crowd; those were mostly ‘I hate you’s anyway). It makes his chest ache that this beautiful, amazing kid cares about him. And he doesn’t know what he did to deserve it but he’s just so happy.
The number of times that Tony has said ‘I love you’ to anyone feels like even more of a rarity. But he thinks he can muster up the strength and courage to say it back now because he truly does love this kid so much. He struggles for a moment before he can say it, his heart squeezing in his chest. “I lo- I love you too, Underoos.” Tony chokes out, clearing his throat that’s suddenly gone all hoarse on him.
Peter just holds onto him even tighter. “You said it back,” he whispers in awe, his voice sounding both ecstatic and teary with surprise. He presses a kiss to Tony’s shoulder before nuzzling his cheek against him like a cat.
Tony warms at the affection, his heart swelling up. “It was a long time coming, Spiderling.”
Tony remembers meeting Peter the first few times and thinking that he was just too good to be real. But he really is just that brilliant and with the biggest, golden heart. And Tony is baffled by that most of the time but also just impressed in all the best ways. Peter has a way of pulling people in and making everyone fall for him. He’s the kind of person Tony never thought would exist in such a messed up world and it makes Tony want to protect him all the more. Peter’s precious and Tony wants to protect him with all he has.
“Are you feeling any better?” Peter searches Tony’s face as best he can from his angle. There’s a bit of worry there that Tony wants to sooth away.
“Lots better,” He admits, rubbing the kid’s arm a bit as if to reassure him.
Peter smiles. “Good. Now get some sleep, Mr. Stark. Seriously. You’ve got to be exhausted.”
Tony winces. As much as he longs for sleep to claim him, he knows what awaits him. “I don’t think I can...” He says honestly. Every time he falls asleep is torture. Just the thought of trying to sleep in his empty room alone, his mind running on everything he's tried not to think on, it's enough to make his heart pound with anxiety. His grip tightens around Peter before he can quench his fears of being abandoned. If Peter stayed with him, he'd feel so much more at ease. The kid always makes him feel better, safe even. Tony wants Peter to stay more than he'd care to admit.
"Okay," Peter whispers. “Okay well, I might have already texted Aunt May that I wanted to stay over... So I could keep watch and make sure you're alright if you get tired enough? Is that okay? I don’t want to leave you, Mr. Stark."
Tony smiles softly at that. “Yeah, it’s okay," he says quickly, hit with relief.
“Movie until you fall asleep?
“Sure thing, Kiddo. Sounds good.” He cranes his neck a little to glance at the ceiling. “Friday, set up Peter’s favorite Star Wars movie-“
“Really?”
Tony grins at Peter’s excitement. He loves watching the kid light up.
Friday cues it up on the tv screen. And slowly they both begin to relax.
“You know, Spider-Man’s my favorite,” Tony whispers as the opening text to the movie scrolls by. For once he doesn’t feel the need to dis the boy’s name or call him a child in the process. Not now. Even though he’s definitely more of a Spider-kid.
He can feel Peter’s smile on his shoulder and it’s contagious.
“Of course I’m completely biased though.”
“Of course,” Peter echoes, his grin getting impossibly even wider.
“Seeing as Peter Parker is like my hero.”
“Copycat.” Peter laughs. “Now you’re just being dramatic.”
“Not in the slightest. I swear to you on my suit.”
“Which one?”
“All of them. Every single one, Kid, armor and all.”
“You’re ridiculous.”
“You love it.”
“Who wouldn’t.”
Tony ruffles Peter’s hair, his eyes only on his kid, mind on anything but space battles and the hum of lightsabers.
“‘Love you, Pete,” Tony says and it’s easier this time to admit it. It actually feels really good.
“I love you too, Mr. Stark.”
And that feels even better.
So they stay like that, a mess of tangled limbs on the couch, keeping each other close as Tony slowly drifts off, for once in a long while at peace.