Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Peter Parker opens his eyes and smiles. The sun is shining through the broken window and strokes his face with a promise of a beautiful day. For a second, he forgets it’s January and his home has been an abandoned warehouse for the last couple of months. He forgets how cold he was when he returned from patrolling last night and he needed four blankets to fall asleep on his makeshift bed made from cardboard and an old mattress. His teeth just couldn’t stop chattering.

But it’s morning again, a beautiful morning with blue sky and sunshine. He doesn’t even have to get dressed because he slept with nearly all of his clothes on. He just needs to grab his backpack and go to school where it’s warm and where he can meet his friends again. Ned and MJ are the only family he has now. And even though he misses his parents, his uncle and aunt, he knows he should be grateful for his friends. And no, he never feels jealous because they have all the basic things he lacks: parents, home and a warm bed.

Okay, maybe sometimes he does feel jealous. He wishes his parents were still alive or he wishes he could still live with Aunt May. And she would wake him up every morning instead of his phone. She would make him breakfast and when he leaves for school, she would say: ‘Take care, Peter!’ Now no one makes him breakfast and no one looks out for him.

But it’s fine. Because he can take care of himself, thank you very much and it’s a beautiful morning, so there’s really no need to complain. He’s Spiderman after all, a superhero, of course he can take care of himself. Even if it’s January and he lives in a deserted building. Plus, he has a lot to do. He has school, then work and at nights patrolling. He’s way too busy to feel sorry for himself.

Peter grabs his backpack and swings down from the second-floor window of the warehouse. As usual, he lands on the ground behind the building to avoid attention and then reaches into his backpack to pull out a sandwich that he can eat on his way to school. Benefits of working at a grocery store. Before the store closes for the night, the manager gives Peter food that they couldn’t sell next day. Like this ham and cheese sandwich. And the tuna sandwich that will be perfect for lunch.

As he walks down the street to the subway, a car suddenly brakes next to him and the sound of screeching tires practically freezes him. A car horn. A yell. Peter doesn’t dare to look. If somebody has just been hit, he doesn’t want to see. He knows he should check if he could help, he’s a superhero after all and this is the right thing to do anyway but he just stands there on the sidewalk with eyes squeezed shut, half-eaten sandwich falling from his hand.

~

“Mr. Peter Parker, come into the principal’s office, please.”

“I’m so sorry, Peter, there has been an accident. It’s your aunt.”

“I’m sorry, son, she’s gone. She died on impact; there was nothing we could do.”

“Peter, is there someone who could pick you up? A relative maybe? Is there anyone?”

“Peter, my mom says you can stay with us for now.”

Those few weeks were like a blur for Peter. He doesn’t really remember what happened after he had got the news on her aunt. On the hit and run that happened while she was going to work. There was a social worker, and then Ned’s parents were kind enough to let him stay with them for a few weeks. Until they find him a foster family, that is.

And when those first few horrible days passed, Peter understood he might have lost more than his aunt and his old home. Of course he couldn’t stay at Ned’s forever, even though that would have been the most convenient way to settle things. And it wasn’t really likely that they would find him a foster family in Queens, so that he could stay at his school and with his friends. No, they would take him away, maybe out of the city and he would have to start everything anew. New family, new place to live, new school, new friends. And he didn’t want that. He didn’t want to let go of the very last pieces of his old life. He didn’t want more changes. He couldn’t turn back time and go back to his old life when he had lived happily with Aunt May, he knew that but he wasn’t ready to leave literally everything behind. He just couldn’t do that.

He had to stay as close to his old life as possible. He had to keep what he could: his friends, his school, Queens. If only he could have stayed on his own here! He was already 15 and May always said he was much more mature than kids at his age. He could take care of himself. He did all the time when May had to stay late at work. It couldn’t be that hard. But he couldn’t do it legally. Which sucked. So he came up with a story. He was thinking about it at many sleepless nights in Ned’s room and he worked out every tiny detail.

Aunt May has a cousin, Mary. No, Carol. No, Julia. Yes, her name is Julia. She lives in Brooklyn with her husband and three kids. Two sons, one daughter. They didn’t meet that often, but May and Julia talked over the phone sometimes. Julia was there at Uncle Ben’s funeral, too.

Peter wanted to call her when May died but he was in shock (true) and totally forgot about Julia. And then he remembered but he didn’t have her number. May did. Then Peter found it in May’s notes. So he called her and told her the news. Julia was absolutely devastated. Of course she would take Peter in. Yes, he would have to share a room with her eldest son, Jake but it’s okay. Yes, Peter can stay at his school, no problem.

Peter knows a therapist would say it’s not surprising that he came up with a story about a fake aunt. This is his way to cope, to compensate his loss. And he has created such a vivid, detailed story about Aunt Julia that sometimes he pretends it’s real. He still has an aunt. There’s still someone asking him about his day and school. Someone who cooks dinner for him. Someone who cares about him. Peter knows it’s all fake but yeah. Sometimes it’s just easier to pretend than to face the harsh reality. It makes life hurt a bit less.

It still amazes Peter that his story actually worked. Neither the social worker, nor the principal minded that they never met Julia in person. Peter had plenty of excuses why Julia could never come but sent emails instead. Yes, Peter would gladly take the documents to her to sign.

On one hand, Peter was really happy that it worked and he didn’t have to go to a foster family and he could stay in the city with his friends. On the other hand, it made him sick how rotten the system was that something like this could happen. That the social worker and the principal were so happy to find a quick solution that they didn’t bother to look further. They never took a second look at the forged documents that Peter made at a school computer. They believed everything Peter told them because it was easier then asking questions.

The only person who did ask questions was Ned. Yeah, Ned asked like a zillion questions as he always does. Bless him. The only person who actually cares about Peter. Who really wants to know if he’s doing okay. It’s been the hardest to lie to him. But what is Peter supposed to do?

If Ned knew the truth what could he do? Nothing, right? He wouldn’t call the authorities, no, he’d never do that to Peter but he would just worry himself sick. No, Peter can’t do that to him. He can’t drag Ned into the mess his life has become.

So Peter moved out from Ned’s room and found his new home in the warehouse. Which is honestly not that bad. May never had too much money anyway and Peter has never needed too much stuff, so he’s been good, he’s been used to not having much. He got that job at the store, so he has some money. Okay, when winter started, it has become somewhat more challenging to stay in a building with practically no intact door or window and absolutely no heating, but it’s just a few more weeks until spring, right?

Maybe it would be even easier, if the bite hadn’t happened. Oh, yeah, the bite.

He doesn’t really know how that happened. He just felt that strange sting, he thought it was a mosquito, but no, it was more painful. On instinct, he slapped the back of his neck where he felt the prickle and when a little creature fell on the floor, he took a closer look. It was an ugly spider, a kind he had never seen before. With strange coloring. Must have been something exotic accidently shipped in from a tropical country. But he didn’t have time to dwell on it, and the sting didn’t hurt that much anyway, so he quickly moved on.

That night he had a fever. And it didn’t break for three days. He was lying on his mattress in the warehouse in a delirious state. It was awful. Painful. His whole body ached. He was ready to come clean, to go into foster care even if that meant leaving New York and his friends, he didn’t really care. Just somebody, please, help him! Make the pain stop! He wanted to text Ned, he wanted to call 911 but he was way too weak to even grab his phone.

He thought he would die. Alone in an abandoned warehouse. Rats would eat up his dead body before he could be found.

And at the end of the second horrible day, he accepted his fate. It was okay. He dies and he can meet his parents, his uncle and aunt again. He can have a family again. This is what he has always wanted, right? It’s gonna be okay. He’s gonna be so happy. Maybe he should try to sleep and when he wakes up, he’ll be with them. Yeah, that’s a good idea.
He fell asleep with a smile on his face.

Morning came and broke his fever. But when he opened his eyes and didn’t feel pain anymore, he wasn’t relieved. He felt disappointed that he was still here. In this dirty warehouse and not with his family. He just curled into a ball and cried. He never felt lonelier in his life. Happiness and peaceful release were so close to him and they slipped away yet again. Just how many more heartbreaks can someone take?

Sometime later, he decided to try and find something good in the turn of events. Maybe it was not his time yet. Maybe he still has a purpose here on Earth. And when he realized how that little bite changed him, he knew this was it. He has found his purpose. He has become Spiderman.

~

Peter realizes the sounds around him have changed. Just regular sounds of traffic on a Tuesday morning. No more screaming. No ambulance coming. He slowly opens his eyes and takes a look around. There are cars and people in hurry everywhere. Everything is absolutely normal. No one has been hit. No one has died.

There’s something moving around his legs. It’s a cat. It completely ignores Peter and goes for his dropped sandwich instead. It eats the ham and the cheese and pays no attention to the bread. Where has it come from? Right. It might be a stray cat that has crossed the road causing the alarm earlier.

Peter crouches down to scratch the cat’s ear, but it focuses solely on the remains of Peter’s breakfast. He gives the feline a sad smile. Not the first time he’s ignored. But it’s just a cat, he shouldn’t take it personal. He’s on his way to school and he’s going to meet his friends, so there’s no point being sour, right?

It’s a beautiful day and everything is fine.

It has to be.

Chapter Text

Peter is sitting in the dining hall eating his tuna sandwich. He smiles when he remembers the stray cat he met this morning. The feline would have probably preferred the tuna to the ham and cheese sandwich he dropped. Anyway, these sandwiches have one thing in common: they’re both too small. Especially, when he drops half of them on the ground.

Peter is so hungry. Since he became Spiderman, he’s appetite has become like huge. He could eat all the other kids’ lunch in the canteen right now. It’s really great that he has superhuman strength, can stick to walls, have senses that warn him of danger and has an incredible healing factor, but if he could pick just one of his newly gained abilities to give up, he would definitely choose the extraordinary appetite. He loves eating but he hates that food equals trouble now and not a wonderful variety of flavors like before. Food isn’t something he enjoys anymore but a problem he needs to work out.

And being hungry is not the only problem that comes with the lack of food, he also feels weak and his injuries heal way slower when he doesn’t have enough to eat. And that really sucks if you go out as a superhero every night to fight crime. It’s not like criminals would take it easy on Peter just because he had to skip dinner again.

“So what are you saying? Are you coming over?” Ned asks from the other side of the table.

For a second, Peter doesn’t know what his friend is talking about. Then it clicks. Right. The weekend. Ned asked him if he could come over for the weekend.

After Peter moved in with Aunt Julia (according to the official story), Ned has invited Peter to spend the weekend with his family several times. Aunt Julia lives in Brooklyn, which is not that far but if Peter stays for the weekend at Ned’s, they can spend more time together. That means more Lego building, more video games and more movies.

And to Peter, it also means a few nights in a warm place, even though he sleeps on the floor in Ned’s room, but that’s okay compared to the old mattress in the warehouse. So much more than okay. And it also means home-cooked meals. Being with people. Being with family. Snippets of a normal life just like Peter’s life was up until a few months ago. Now that life seems like an old dream. So far out of his reach that it might have never even happened.

Yeah, it would be nice to stay with the Leeds’ for a few days. Pretending everything is okay. Ignoring the stinging feeling that just a short time ago, he also had everything Ned still has. Suppressing the feeling of jealousy. Not complaining that it’s not fair.

Because it’s so fucking unfair that it’s always him who loses everyone and everything, while life goes on for others and they still have their families and homes and they don’t have to stay alone in a cold warehouse every night crying themselves into sleep.

But... that’s not the real reason why Peter can’t go. The last time when he accepted the invitation, he almost blew his cover story about Aunt Julia’s family. Mrs. Leeds asked Peter how Julia’s family was doing. She asked if her daughter was still sick. For a minute, Peter had no idea what Mrs. Leeds was talking about. Then he remembered.

A few days before, Ned had told Peter he had looked sick. Of course, Peter hadn’t been sick; he couldn’t ever get sick since the bite. But Ned couldn’t know that, he couldn’t know Peter was just exhausted after patrolling all night. So he had told Ned Julia’s daughter had caught the flu and Peter might have caught it from her, too.

After remembering the conversation, Peter assured Mrs. Leeds that the little girl was just fine. But Ned stared at him weird. It turned out Peter said a wrong name for the girl. When Ned pointed it out, Peter laughed embarrassed and explained the girl had this crazy idea to change her name and asked everyone to call her on the new one. And that’s exactly what Peter did.

Fortunately, Ned believed the stupid lie and moved on. But Peter could never rest after the incident; he kept reminding himself to think twice before speaking. And the weekend that should have been like a short vacation, turned into a nightmare because he could never let go, he was in a constant fear that he might let something slip and his cover would be blown. He could hardly wait to get back to his warehouse that suddenly seemed like a safe haven.

At least, he doesn’t have to lie to anyone there, he doesn’t have to put a brave face on and act as if everything is alright. Yeah, he knows the reason for that. He doesn’t have to lie to anyone there because there’s literally no one in that damned building. He’s utterly alone.

Peter knows he could always come clean to Ned. His friend would feel sad and disappointed that Peter didn’t tell him the truth at the beginning, but he would quickly forgive him. Peter knows that. Ned has such a good heart.

And it would be awesome to finally share at least some of his secrets with someone. Because Peter’s life has been so full of secrets lately. Secrets about the place he lives, the people he stays with and the extra job at nights. Peter practically lies to everyone in his life. Not that there are so many people in his life but still. And sometimes he feels his secrets are about to crush him. And he’s so tangled in the web of lies that he’ll never get out. Or maybe he will. When he accidentally blurts out something he shouldn’t and exposes himself as a liar. That would be spectacular.

But then again, what would happen if he came clean to Ned? Ned would feel sorry for Peter. He couldn’t offer anything to Peter but his empathy and pity. Plus, Ned would feel just as miserable as Peter. Yeah, he doesn’t want to do that to his best friend. Ned doesn’t deserve that.

So Peter sticks to his earlier decision not to tell anything to Ned and in order to avoid any possible embarrassing and dangerous situation at the Leeds’, he passes on Ned’s invitation. He says he needs to take some extra shifts at the store because he needs money to buy a birthday gift for Aunt Julia. She has been so kind to take Peter in, right? He wants to show her how grateful he is.

And it’s actually only a half-lie. Because Peter will take extra shifts. Money is always good and what else could he do at the weekend anyway?

~

It’s 10pm and Peter is settled on a rooftop looking over Queens. It’s one of his usual lookout spots. In the past few hours he caught three muggers, stopped a motorbike theft, helped out a group of elderly Japanese tourists who couldn’t find their way back to their hotel and also helped a five-year old girl find her lost teddy bear she can’t sleep without. Just another average night. A few more hours and Peter is heading back to the warehouse to sleep a bit before school. Or maybe he could call it a night now because tomorrow he’s gonna have Spanish and Calculus test, so he could really use some extra rest.

But criminals would never hold back just because Spiderman has tests the next day, right? He should stay a bit longer. He takes a granola bar from his ratty backpack and pulls out his phone. He absentmindedly scrolls through the news while snacking. He only reads the headlines. Until he finds a report on an award gala where Tony Stark presented one of the awards. It’s some kind of science stuff. Peter takes a long look at the photo of Mr. Stark and the honored scientist.

One day that’ll be him. The scientist guy receiving an award from Mr. Stark. And Mr. Stark will offer him a job at Stark Industries and they will work together in his lab. Mr. Stark might even let Peter help him work on one of the Iron Suits. And Peter will suggest upgrades to Mr. Stark, yeah, he’ll come up with tons of brilliant ideas. He might even suggest integrating web shooters into one of the suits. How cool that would be? On the other hand, Iron Man’s repulsors are pretty effective as they are. And Iron Man can fly so he doesn’t really need webs to swing around. Still. This is Peter’s dream. To work with Tony Stark. His idol since his childhood. Superhero and genius in one person. Is there anything cooler than that?

Suddenly, an alarm goes off on the street underneath. Peter gets up and leans over the ledge to take a good look. Two guys – not much older than Peter himself – are attempting to steal a car. Setting off the alarm couldn’t have been a part of their plan and now they are discussing if they should go on with the stealing or just leave the car behind and run before the police arrives.

Peter decides to help them with the decision. He pulls down his mask, shoots a web to a lamppost on the other side of the street and swings down, landing on the top of the car in question.

“I agree with you, you should really leave, guys” Spiderman says pointing at the shorter boy with red hair and freckles then hops down to the ground.

The guys stagger back shocked. Then the red-haired one turns to his friend. “See? I told you!”

“I’m not taking advice from a nobody in a shitty Halloween costume!” the other guy yells and launches forward to Spiderman with a crowbar in his hands.

The superhero swiftly moves out of his way and the guy plummets into the side of the car, breaking the window with the bar. He slowly straightens up swaying on his feet.

All of a sudden, police sirens sound from the distance.

The red-haired boy turns to Spiderman frightened. “Please, Mr. Spiderman, let us go! We won’t do anything bad ever again!”

The superhero smiles under his mask. “Nothing illegal?” he asks trying to force as much authority into his voice as possible.

“Nothing, never!” the boy swears and without waiting for a response, he runs away.

His friend makes a different decision, though. He shakes his head trying to get rid of the last bits of dizziness and attacks Spiderman again.

But he has no chance against the senses and extraordinary speed Spiderman owns. The superhero jumps out of his way again and this time the guy lands face down on the ground. “Really?” Spiderman snorts rolling his eyes. “It’s the best you’ve got?”

Feeling encouraged, the guy gives another try. Then another. And another. And Spiderman easily dodges every weak punch, every lame attempt to attack. Meanwhile, the police sirens sound from a closer distance.

“Okay, this is getting boring and I have a tough day tomorrow. I don’t have time for this,” Spiderman shrugs and webs the guy to the car. “Say hi to the police for me, will you?”

He shoots a web to the roof where he left his backpack and swings up. Once on the roof, he collects his stuff and decides to call it a night. It’s getting late and he’s really tired now. He yawns and steps up on the ledge to swing back to the warehouse.

But then a few blocks away, he can see some weird purple lights flaring up. He decides to check it out. No, he shouldn’t. It must be just some kind of party, nothing illegal or dangerous. He has school tomorrow. Two tests. He has to go to sleep.

But who is he kidding? Of course, he will swing by and see what’s going on. He has to know. If it’s really nothing – and probably it is –, he’ll be on his way. It’ll take only a minute. What could possibly go wrong?

Chapter Text

It's late at night and Tony Stark is sitting in his living room watching the same videos over and over again. Spiderman stopping a car before it would crash into a train. Spiderman disarming muggers. Spiderman stopping a bank robbery. Spiderman catching a school bus full of kids, as it is about to fall off a bridge. And last but not least, his personal favorite: Spiderman bringing down a cat from a tree and returning it to an elderly lady.

Tony honestly can't remember how many times he has seen the few dozen videos of Spiderman that have gone viral lately. Who is this guy? Where does he come from? Considering his ability to stick to walls defying the laws of physics, he's obviously enhanced but how? Was he born this way or has he escaped from a lab? Is he some kind of secret experiment gone rogue? And most of all: is he a good or a bad guy?

Okay, he rescues people and cats but still. What if it's just a disguise? And he has some kind of evil master plan and the first step is to convince people that he's a good guy. So when he does something bad, no one will suspect it's been him.

"Don't be ridiculous, Tony," Pepper laughed when he told her about his theory. "You just overcomplicate things like always."

"So you can honestly say he's harmless?" he asked back.

"I guess so," Pepper shrugged. "He hasn't done anything bad. But I don't know him."

"Exactly!" Tony called triumphantly. "We don't know him! No one knows him!"

"Does it mean he's dangerous, though?" she mused.

"Could be," Tony frowned.

"I think it just makes you mad that you don't know what's going on with him," Pepper shrugged again. "He's a new superhero in the city, and you don't know anything about him and it drives you crazy. New guy doesn't necessarily equal villain."

And Tony knows she's right. Seeing potential danger around Spiderman has been his way to justify his utter frustration. He feels frustrated because he doesn't know anything about the superhero. Tony knows a lot of things. He hates not knowing something. He hates not to be able to figure out something. Mysteries exist to be solved. And so far, Spiderman has turned out to be a mystery he can't figure out. He already hates the guy.

He and Friday have tried literally everything. They have analyzed every little detail of the videos; Tony has even visited the location of Spiderman's rescue missions and talked to witnesses, people who made the videos. They couldn't give him much: Spiderman was male. Probably. He talks a lot, he has a sense of humor and cracks jokes all the time. Average height. Maybe a bit thin but strong, oh, so strong. If there was anything odd on him? You mean besides the red and blue suit and his webs?

Yeah, Tony could add one more thing: whoever this Spiderman is, he's not a billionaire like himself. If that's the only suit he can afford. That red-blue onesie. And those goggles! Gosh, the guy is in desperate need of an upgrade. On the other hand, Tony could see some kind of device on his wrists. Where the webs come from. So he must be good at making things, inventing devices like that. That or he has a nerd sidekick.

And there's maybe one more thing. Spiderman doesn't use weapons. He doesn't seem to have any. He just uses his strength, speed and webs. And he never kills the criminals he fights; he just incapacitates and wraps them with his web as a kind of gift to the police that never catch up on him.

Tony knows there's a police file on Spiderman, a basically empty file. They don't know anything about him either (although Tony would be surprised if they knew more than him), and they don't like it either. Just like Tony, they hate unknown players on the field, even if they seem to be on their side.

Tony watches the video of the school bus again, admires the brute strength Spiderman uses to maneuver back the bus onto the road and watches as the rescued kids cheer on the vehicle while Spiderman waves at them before swinging away.

"Okay, Friday, have you noticed anything new now?" he tiredly asks his AI already knowing the answer.

"Just like the two thousand six hundred and fifty-three times I analyzed the footage before, nothing, sir," Friday replies dryly.

Tony sighs and runs his hands through his hair. "Okay, I think I need some fresh air. And by fresh air, I mean Iron Man time," he clasps his hands and gets up.

"Of course, boss," Friday agrees.

Tony walks towards the window and with each step his suit builds up around his frame. By the time he reaches the now open window, his face plate moves into place, too and Iron Man is ready for action.

"Showtime," he mutters and shoots up into the sky.

~

It's not the first time that Tony heads towards Queens. That's where Spiderman operates and he hopes he might finally meet him. The guy usually swings around at night, which means he must have a day job.

Tony spent a few nights in the area before, sometimes as Iron Man and sometimes as Tony Stark hoping he would bump into the superhero. But that never happened. Once or twice he saw him swinging between buildings but that's it. Maybe it wasn't even him. He only saw a blur of red and blue, but it could have been anything. Maybe he just imagined it was Spiderman because he so desperately wanted to find out who the guy was.

Flying to Queens, he considers setting up a trap for Spiderman. He could fake a dangerous situation that requires Spiderman's help. Tony could hire some guys that would pretend to mug him. Or even to kill him. And Spiderman would arrive to save him and Tony could finally meet the guy. But not tonight. Being in his armor, no one would think he needs saving, right?

"Boss, there's a bank robbery about to happen only two blocks from you," Friday suddenly breaks into his thoughts.

Then again, maybe it's a good thing that he's in his suit.

"Let's go, Fri," he replies, immediately forgetting about Spiderman and flies toward the address that appears on his screen. A few seconds later, he is already at the scene.

The area seems deserted except for two guys in front of a building. They carry some kind of big, weird and apparently heavy device to the entrance. It looks like a metal box with colorful wires and switches all over it.

"I can detect another heat signature in the black van parking on the other side of the street," Friday remarks.

"Must be the getaway driver," Tony answers. "Friday, what is that thing they have there?"

"I don't know, boss. There's no match to any known weapon."

"So we are honored to meet some very creative bank robbers. Lucky us. Let's ask them where they found that stuff."

A second later, Tony lands behind the criminals in his trademark Iron Man fashion. "'Evening, gentlemen. Can I join the party?"

The men jump surprised. But one of them – the shorter, older one in glasses – quickly regains his composure and grins. "Be our guest, Iron Man."

He turns a switch on the device and purple lights flare up all over it. Plus, there's a weird buzzing sound and Tony carefully takes a step back trying to prepare for whatever the machine is about to do. It might be a bomb, but then why aren't the bad guys moving? Why are they just standing there grinning at him as if they're waiting for the instrument to have some kind of effect on Tony? But it's not doing anything. Just purple lights and a strange sound.

"Am I supposed to be scared?" Tony probes.

"You should be," the guy in glasses laughs.

But nothing is happening!

"Friday, what am I dealing with here? Just a few delusional idiots, right?" Tony asks.

Then out of sudden, all the lights in the bank and some nearby buildings go off. Even the street lights.

"S'r… don't… ev'ryth'… off… not… g'ng…"

"Friday? What's wrong, girl? Friday?!"

But there's no answer.

The lights and signals on Tony's screen disappear. Everything on his armor is off. No matter what function he tries, no matter how many times he calls Friday again, it's all off. As if someone has pulled the plug. The suit is now just a motionless metal shell. Like a statue. And he's been trapped inside. What just happened?

The men in front of him laugh. They even do a high five.

"It works better than I expected," the short thug smirks and walks confidently toward Tony. "You see, Stark, my little invention is supposed to turn off everything electronic in about a block radius. So now we can practically walk into that bank and take whatever we want. Everything is off now. Locks, alarms, everything. Do the police know anything?" he turns back to his partner (probably the muscle in the team, given he's so big), who has a radio in his hand. The guy listens to the device a bit and shakes his head. The man next to Tony smiles. "By the time they realize what happened, we'll be long gone."

The thug starts walking around Tony, which makes him frustrated. If only he could punch that stupid grin off of his face! If only he could raise his metal arm.

"And I'm happy to see that my innovation has also managed to disable the big Iron Man himself," the man laughs again. "I'm all for the money but what if we have some fun first?"

Tony swallows hard. Can the guy unlock his armor? Can Tony unlock it? Because right now he's helpless trapped inside his not operating suit. He should try to get out of it, even though he's not really sure if that's a good idea because he doesn't have any weapons. If he steps out of the armor, he will be defenseless against the bank robbers. At least, the suit protects him. He decides to give it a try anyway but he just can't open it.

"Hey, guys, I heard you said fun. Can I come, too?"

Great, someone else wants to join the party. Tony and the goons look around to find the source of the new voice and there he is. Spiderman in his lousy red-blue suit, crouching on the top of a truck, looking down and waving at them like an old friend.

Tony rolls his eyes. This is not how he imagined his first encounter with Spiderman. Yes, he might have considered a scenario like this a few minutes ago, but that was supposed to be fake. With hired thugs, not real ones and definitely not with a useless suit.

"Come on, not you, too. What is this, a comic con?" short guy snorts. "This is supposed to be a peaceful bank robbery, no more."

"I'm sorry to disappoint you but I can't allow that," Spiderman claims and gets up putting his hands on his hips and shaking his head. As if he is some kind of annoyed parent scolding misbehaving children. "No robbing banks or hurting Mr. Stark tonight."

Tony rolls his eyes again. Great, it's just great. He is going to be saved by Spiderman. There goes his authority.

"Yeah? And what are you going to do about it, bug?" the goon demands clearly unimpressed.

"Well, I'm glad you asked, Mr. Bank Robber. I'm gonna try this first," Spiderman replies and shoots a web at the electrifying device. Then another one. And another one. He keeps shooting webs at the thing, until it is nearly completely covered with webs and the purple lights are not visible anymore.

The street lights and the lights in the bank start blinking trying to come back to life. Even the Iron Man armor gives some kind of struggling sound.

"Friday, are you back?" Tony whispers but there's no reply. He can't move yet. He groans frustrated because he really doesn't want to wait patiently until the system reboots itself.

In the meantime, Muscle runs toward the truck Spiderman is standing on and reaches for his ankle to yank him off of the vehicle. But Spiderman flips and lands behind the thug on the ground.

"If you wanted me to come down, you should have asked," he says.

Muscle groans and leaps toward Spiderman. A brutal fight ensues. Tony can't believe his own eyes. Muscle is at least twice, no, thrice as big as Spiderman and he's obviously an experienced fighter. But Spiderman can defend himself, thank you very much. He's fast and blocks every hit. Or most of them. And he delivers some ruthless punches himself. He's strong and fast. In spite of the size difference, it seems like an equal fight. Or not really equal. Because Muscle is getting tired, while Spiderman is still in top form.

The other bad guy hurries back to his machine and the motion makes Spiderman turn back to see what's going on. This gives a perfect opportunity to Muscle to hit Spiderman hard. On the head. He staggers back a bit and Muscle grins, waiting for him to collapse. But Spiderman shakes his head and looks up at his opponent.

"Round two?" he asks and the fight continues.

Meanwhile, Tony desperately tries to call Friday back to life. He can see the short thug pulling a knife from his pocket and he is about to cut through the webbing around his device.

"Friday, this would be a really great time for you to wake up from your nap," Tony says through gritted teeth. "Or at least let me out, if you're not any help."

There's a strange sound as the metal pieces of the suit move a bit. And a bit again. With irritating slowness and with a little physical help from Tony, the suit finally opens up and he can step out. He looks to his right. Spiderman and Muscle are still in the middle of their ruthless fight. By now, both of them are slower but they just keep going.

Tony decides to go for the weird inventor guy trying to free his precious instrument.

"I personally prefer it covered with webs," Tony says stepping behind the man. "Never been a fan of purple."

Short guy turns back to him with his knife, but he seems more like a scared kid and not a cruel bad guy who is about to dissect Tony with his sharp weapon. With a malfunctioned device and Tony not trapped in his suit anymore, the thug looks no longer fearless and smug.

"Let's call it a night, shall we?" Tony frowns and with one half-hearted move, he hits the knife out of the man's hand. "Friday, when you're ready to work again, call the police, please?"

"C'rt'nl', b'ss."

Tony smiles hearing the AI's voice again. Even if she's not entirely back yet.

"We should take this piece of shit back to the lab," he says giving the web-covered machine a light kick. "I want to know how it works and how it could knock you out, Friday. Plus, we need to talk about an upgrade, dear. I don't like you being vulnerable to a random mad scientist."

"Yes, s'r," Friday replies.

Okay, everything seems to be alright now, device disarmed, crazy inventor shivering in fear, Muscle is hopefully about to be defeated by Spiderman… But in that very moment, Tony hears gunshots. He counts three. Muscle doesn't have a gun. If he had, he would have used it by now. And the police are not here yet.

"The getaway driver," Tony groans and turns to Spiderman and Muscle.

There's a third man standing behind them and yes, there's a gun in his hand. Spiderman steps back in surprise. But he quickly regains his composure.

"Interrupting a fair fight? Rude, man," he remarks and shoots a web toward the new guy, easily yanking the gun out of his hand. Then he delivers some final punches and knocks Muscle out.

Getaway driver takes just one look at his buddy, who is lying on the ground out cold, then another one at his now empty hands and decides to run. Spiderman shoots another web at him and in the next moment, he's webbed to a lamppost.

Spiderman lets out a big breath and dusts off his hands. "It's been fun, guys, really, thanks for letting me join." Then he turns to Tony giving him a tiny wave. "Are you alright there, Mr. Stark? Suit working again?" And without waiting for a response, he shoots a web to a tall building next to them. "Have a safe trip home, sir," he says and swings away.

Tony just stands there, mouth wide open in awe and then hits his forehead with his fists. How could he let Spiderman get away? How is he supposed to find out who he is now? He's back to square one.

He turns around and hurries back to his suit. It's a long shot, but he has to try. "Friday, let's follow Spiderman."

Chapter Text

As Tony steps back into the suit, he can hear sirens getting closer. The police can take it over from here. He'll even leave the weird device behind if he has to. But he has never been this close to Spiderman and he can't let him get away now. Hopefully, Spiderman can't swing away faster than his Iron Man suit flies.

"How are you, Fri?" he asks.

"System is at 86 percent, boss, still rebooting."

"Great. Let's start at the building Spiderman shot a web to and search for a heat signature swinging between buildings. Wow, that's been a weird sentence," Tony frowns flying off.

"Actually, sir, I can detect a heat signature on the roof of that very building," Friday reveals.

"Really? Let's take a closer look and hope it's him," he says.

Spiderman might need some time to gather himself after the fight. Just because he's strong and enhanced, he could be tired. Or even injured. Some of the hits he took were pretty bad.

Tony lands on the roof smoothly and takes a look around. Friday shows him where to find the person she has spotted.

And there he is: a red and blue figure sitting on the ground, back against some crates, a hand clutching his side. He doesn't notice Tony, hell, he doesn't even move. Tony's stomach swoops with nerves and he can't explain it. He doesn't even know this guy, why would he worry about him? Tony's been the one who said Spiderman could be a bad guy. Or dangerous. Yeah, but it was Spiderman who stopped the bank robbery, fought the bad guys and basically saved Tony.

"Friday?" he calls while stepping out of his armor and carefully walks to Spiderman. The guy still has his ridiculous mask on, so Tony can't see if he's unconscious or not.

"I detect two gunshot wounds and major blood loss. Plus several bruises. Vitals are critical."

Good news? Spiderman is alive and managed to dodge at least one of the bullets. Bad news? Two of them hit him and he might bleed out here.

Tony crouches down beside him and grins as he takes a closer look at the gunshot wounds. The superhero has used his signature web in an attempt to patch himself up. Geez. The webbing might slow down the bleeding, but it's definitely not enough.

"Hey," Tony tries to rouse him gently squeezing his shoulder. "Wake up, spider."

And the guy does wake up. Suddenly, there are weak hands coming up in a sorry attempt to fight off Tony.

"Easy, easy there," the man says catching the flailing limbs. He hopes his voice is reassuring enough. He even forces himself to give a comforting smile even though he doesn't know if Spiderman can see him. "You're safe. I want to help."

Does he now? Where does that come from?

But he has no time to mull over it, because Spiderman's hands go limp in Tony's grasp and he seems unconscious again.

Tony tries to wake him once more, but this time there's no response.

He should take him to the hospital.

"Spiderman requires urgent medical attention, sir," Friday reminds.

Tony sighs and gets up. He steps back into the suit and then hurries back to the fallen superhero. He puts his arms under his back and knees and lifts him up. Gosh, he's so light! Where does his strength come from when he's so light? Tony shakes his head. He has no time for this now, either.

"Friday, call Bruce. We're taking Spiderman home".

~

When Tony lays Spiderman on a bed at the med bay, Bruce is already there waiting for them. Friday must have woken him from his sleep, but the scientist standing by the bed looks anything but tired.

"Tony, is this… is this Spiderman?"

"Oh yeah," Tony frowns and steps out of his suit. "The one and only. He got injured. Help him," he gestures to the small, limp form of the superhero on the bed.

Geez, he looks way too small to be a superhero! But Tony did see him in battle and the way Spiderman fought doesn't leave any doubts about his strength.

Bruce just glares, either hating that Tony gave him orders or that he has so little information. Probably both. He must have tons of questions. He opens his mouth and then closes it; he has probably decided to put all of his doubts aside for now. He sighs. "Okay, what are we dealing with here?" he asks checking Spiderman's pulse.

"Two gunshot wounds on the side. Plus, he's been beaten to a pulp, so it could be anything," Tony shrugs stepping back from the bed.

He doesn't care. He has brought the guy here because he couldn't let him die on that roof, could he? And if he dies, Tony can never get the answers he has been seeking so badly. That's the reason why he has opted for the Tower instead of the hospital, too. In the hospital, the government would find him and probably take him away. And Tony wouldn't get his damned answers. Yeah, that's all. The only reason. Getting answers. Solving the mystery of Spiderman. Beyond that, he doesn't care.

Then why can't he take his eyes off of the motionless guy on the bed, why does he wish so desperately that the injured superhero woke up? He wishes he could see those flailing hands coming up again to fight. Tony hasn't seen much of Spiderman yet, but when he did see him, he was fighting. He was energetic and tough and bold. Yeah, maybe he looked reckless and irresponsible too, wearing that sorry excuse for a suit and goggles, but whatever. If Tony wants to find someone reckless, he just needs to take a look in the mirror, so who is he to decide if someone's irresponsible or not?

"Friday didn't give you more info?" Bruce asks interrupting Tony's train of thoughts.

"She's not really herself," the man shrugs again. Bruce quirks an eyebrow. Tony rolls his eyes. "She's been kinda electrocuted, but she's fine now. Mostly."

Bruce's mouth falls open. Okay, Banner will definitely demand the whole story later.

"System is already at 97 percent, Dr. Banner. Do not worry about me," Friday says.

Bruce just shakes his head and turns his full attention to Spiderman. He gets to work. He examines the gunshot wounds. "What the hell is that?" he asks in shock leaning closer to the injuries.

"Oh that," Tony steps closer. "That's his web. You know his only weapon and way of transport. You must have seen the videos, Bruce. He used his web to close the wounds. I guess he didn't have a band aid."

"Sure," Banner answers distracted still observing the web. "The bullets are still in, I can't see any exit wounds. He needs surgery. Until then it's better if we leave it like this, I don't want him to bleed out here. He's enhanced, right?"

"Yeah. No normal person could stick to a wall like him."

"But we don't know how enhanced he is. Which makes things complicated," Bruce muses. Then he straightens up and looks at Spiderman's head. "I'm sure he wants to keep his secret identity, but we need to remove the mask to treat him."

Now Tony steps even closer. This is the moment he's been waiting for a long time. The truth is about to come out.

But when he was brainstorming on finding a way to figure out Spiderman's identity, this was definitely not what he had in mind. He never wanted Spiderman to lie broken in front of him, unable to defend himself, unable to defend his secret identity. This is not how Tony wants to know who the guy is.

So in the last moment, when Bruce is already reaching for the dirty red mask, Tony decides to exit the room. At least until he can figure out his next step. Spiderman will need surgery, so he'll have a few hours to decide what to do next.

His hand is already on the door handle, when Bruce whispers behind him. "Oh my God."

Tony swallows hard. Spiderman's face must be more bruised than he thought. Tony saw him getting a few hits on the head, he might have a concussion, too.

"No way," Bruce mutters again.

This time Tony's curiosity takes the better of him and he hurries back to the bed. He peeks over Bruce's shoulder to see the superhero's face for himself. He staggers at the sight.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me."

Jesus. This is just a boy.

Chapter Text

When Peter comes to, he can't convince his eyelids to open. They feel so heavy. What happened? He honestly can't remember. His entire body hurts. His head? Feels like twice as its size. His limbs feel like concrete. And his side feels hot, which is really strange.

He must have been in a pretty bad fight. It happens. Injuries are not new to him. A break here, a bruise there. But now he's bad. Like never felt this bad. At least he's not dead and that's good. On his bad days, he would question that statement, but now he decides to put his depressive thoughts aside. He needs to know what happened. And where he is.

It's not cold, so he's not outside. Or in the warehouse.

Okay, so he's been injured and he's in a building. Hospital. No!

His eyes don't need encouragement anymore; they pop open right away and quickly adjust to the light. He takes a look around. His panic and a massive headache are having an epic battle to decide which one of them should be the number one problem for Peter. Panic is winning.

Because Peter is in a white room, he's lying in a hospital bed, he's not wearing his suit but some kind of shirt and sweatpants and there are machines around him. He. Is. At. The. Hospital. And his secret identity must have been revealed.

There's a reason why Peter never goes to the hospital, no matter how bad his injuries are. He's afraid that people would ask him questions. They would examine him and find out his secret. That he's not a normal human. That he's enhanced. And they would take him away and experiment on him with no end. No, Peter can't let that happen.

He has never told anyone about his secret identity, about his superhero alter ego. It would be nice to be the cool guy in school instead of the bullied boy, it would be great to be popular and admired, but it's not worth the risk of being thrown into a secret government lab or something. Maybe his imagination is a bit wild, but he just can't risk it. What's one more secret to keep anyway?

So he has to get out of here. Like now. Before someone realizes he's awake. He looks down at his arm where he has an IV. Inhaling sharply, he forces himself to pull it out. It's so gross. But he has to. Then he heaves himself up into a sitting position. It hurts. His side flares with a new level of hot white pain and he feels dizzy, his vision swims. He feels so weak. But there's no time for this, he has to go!

Pushing back the light blanket, he gently swings his feet off the bed. He remains sitting there and clutches the edge of the bed for a long moment to give the lightheadedness some time to go away. It doesn't want to. But it's slightly better now, so he pushes himself up to stand. His knees are shaking badly and he nearly falls back on the bed. Just nearly, though, he quickly grabs the headboard to steady himself.

He closes his eyes. Okay, dizziness, go away now! Please. He looks up. The window isn't that far. The door has never been an option, who knows what is out there? He would probably meet people there. But the window? He's really good at climbing out of windows. He has a better chance there.

Taking the few steps to the window is an agony, though. He thinks it would be easier to shoot a web at the window and swing there, but yeah. He looks down at his wrists. His web shooters are gone. Of course. Whoever found him and brought him here has his web shooters now. Along with his revealed secret identity. But he really doesn't have time to mull over that now.

His walk is painful and slow, and he always stays close to the wall in case he needs to steady himself again. And finally, he reaches the damned window. He's there. He clumsily opens it and breathes in the fresh air. Then he looks out. Okay, it would be better, if he was on the ground floor or something but he can do this, right? What is it, maybe the fifty-third floor? Piece of cake.

He climbs up on the ledge. He's shaking. He closes his eyes, takes a few deep breaths, in and out and that's it. He's good. Sort of. He's ready to start his descend, when suddenly strong hands grab his shoulders.

"Where the hell do you think you're going?" a stern, male voice asks from behind.

Why didn't his spider sense warn him of the man coming in? It might have been off because of his injuries.

For a brief moment, Peter lets himself feel relieved that he doesn't have to crawl down feeling so weak and that he doesn't have to run anymore. He leans into the strange grip and it feels so nice to be able to stop this crazy, painful, pathetic escape attempt and to be held, supported. Which also helps with the shaking. But no. He has to leave. He has to get out of here ASAP.

So gritting his teeth, he tries to shake off the hands and push himself out of the window. But the grasp on his shoulders strengthens. "Ah-ah," the voice says firmly. "Not so fast."

But Peter doesn't give in. He desperately tries to pull himself free from the hold.

"You're safe, you hear me? You don't have to run," the voice speaks again. It's gentle this time, a soft whisper by his ear.

And for a reason Peter can't explain, he believes it. Maybe it's his weakened condition. Maybe it's exhaustion. Maybe he's just tired of always looking over his shoulder, keeping secrets, never feeling safe. Never being able to relax.

Maybe it's just easier to give in. He should fight; he knows that, he should try to get away. But he's just so damned tired!

So he lets the man help him down from the ledge and guide him back to the bed. God, he's so weak, if that man didn't support him, he'd collapse onto the floor. But he makes it back in one piece and lies down. It feels so good. As if he has just run a marathon or something.

The man is standing by his bed and Peter looks up at him through glassy eyes. Who is he? Should he recognize him? Has Peter met him before? He doesn't know. And his eyelids feel so heavy again.

The man starts walking up and down in the room while explaining something. Peter thinks he should listen to him, it must be important, but he doesn't understand a word. At least, he tries to follow him with his eyes, but even that seems more and more difficult. Why is it so hard to keep his eyes open? And why is he so cold? Is he back at the warehouse somehow?

The man at the end of his bed suddenly stops and stares at him. He doesn't talk anymore. Peter realizes the man expects him to speak. He must have asked a question. Peter doesn't know, all he can hear is the chattering of his teeth now.

"'M cold," he manages and he's surprised how raspy his voice sounds.

He closes his eyes for a long second and when he opens them again, the man is walking toward him with a blanket in his hands. He drapes it over Peter and it feels so good, so warm. He lets his eyes close again.

"Thanks," he whispers and instantly falls asleep.

Chapter Text

When Peter wakes again, he feels a bit better. He still has a headache, but it's not so bad. It would be great to take some meds, though. Or a lot. After his first fights as Spiderman, he's learnt that normal medication doesn't work on him anymore. At least not at normal dosage. But he has never really wanted to start experimenting with pills and dosages, that would be a bit dangerous given he has no medical experience whatsoever, so he usually toughs it out until his injuries heal. And they heal fast, so it's okay. He can survive this headache, too.

And the pain in his side. He still doesn't know what causes that. Bruised ribs? No, that wouldn't hurt this bad. Plus, it hurts a bit lower than his ribs. Other than that, he's relatively okay. Just tired.

Where is he again? He remembers a white room, the hospital. He remembers feeling scared, terrified then something happened that calmed him down. Someone calmed him down. Someone who sounded reliable enough to convince him to stay here.

He opens his eyes and immediately notices a man sitting on a small couch in the corner of the room, holding a tablet in his hands. He's typing something, probably not realizing Peter is awake. Is he the same person who persuaded him to stay? Is he here to make sure Peter doesn't run away?

"Hello, Peter," the man says not looking up from his tablet. Okay, so he has noticed that Peter woke up.

The man's voice sounds very familiar. Peter's almost entirely certain that he was the one in the room before. And he looks so familiar, too. He has dark hair, a goatee and wears a white shirt, with sleeves rolled up. A suit jacket and a tie lie next to him on the couch. Peter doesn't really know adults wearing elegant, expensive-looking clothes like these. Then why does this man seem so damned familiar?

"Mr. Stark," he whispers as his sluggish brain finally provides the answer. "You're Tony Stark."

The man looks up and gives him a small smile. "Correct. How are you feeling, kid? Should I call a doctor?"

Peter is confused. Tony Stark is a billionaire, genius inventor and a superhero, Iron Man. Has saved the world too many times to count. His idol. How does he know Peter's name? Why does he care to know his name?

Mr. Stark puts away his tablet, gets up and walks to the bed. His hands are casually stuck into his pockets, but the look on his face seems concerned. And at the same time, interested.

"I'm good," the boy manages.

Mr. Stark snorts. "I bet. Do you remember what happened?"

Peter tries to recall any memories that might explain his injuries and how he got to the hospital, but he comes up with nothing. So he goes with the most logical explanation. "There was a fight."

There's silence, Mr. Stark is probably waiting for Peter to elaborate. But he can't. He can't remember anything. Is that the reason why he has a headache?

"Okay, let me help you out," Mr. Stark decides giving up on waiting. "Yes, there was a fight. It happened last night, at a bank in Queens. There were some wannabe bank robbers coming up with some kind of device that disabled my suit. And you came in swinging to save the day. Which you did. But you got shot in the process," he gestures at Peter's side.

The boy's hand automatically goes to his hurting side and fumbles over thick bandage. He can suddenly hear three gunshots. His side flares up with hot pain two times right after each other… He hits someone and he's being hit…. Purple lights fading under web... A red metal statue that looks like a robot. No, that's Iron Man's suit. But… it's not moving… Then it's open, empty... Mr. Stark is outside of the suit... A big man covered in blood and bruises lying at Peter's feet... Blood dripping through his suit… Shooting a web… Swinging away… A roof... Collapsing... Someone is beside him… Touching him. Waking him. Saying he's safe… That voice…

That was Mr. Stark. Mr. Stark was there, at the fight, he was there on the roof, he was here in this room, when he woke up earlier and he's here now. Why?

"I remember now," Peter mutters.

"Well, according to your doctor, Dr. Banner, you lost a lot of blood," the man explains." You needed surgery to remove two bullets. You hit your head, correction: you were hit on your head so hard that you have a concussion. And so many cuts and bruises that I can't remember the tenth of it."

"Wait, you said Dr. Banner? As in Doctor Bruce Banner? The genius scientist?" Peter interrupts.

"Yeah," Mr. Stark smiles. "Most people know him for turning into an angry green giant every now and then, but he'll be happy to hear that you care for his scientific work. But going back to you, kid. Good news is you're healing incredibly fast. Bruce can't stop admiring how quickly your body heals."

"Yeah, it's okay, I guess. But it also makes me tired and hungry all the time."

"You mean you need sleep and food to heal?"

"Like most people. But I heal faster, so I need more. Much more."

"No problem, kid. Feel free to sleep as much as you want. And you can eat tons. Whatever you want, just ask."

Peter looks down. It sounds good but no. As soon as he feels good enough, he'll leave. What does Mr. Stark think? That he'll stay here and let them experiment on him? Mr. Stark told he was safe. But safe from what? It's nice not being shot at anymore, but best would be going back to his place and going on with his life. He hopes that's still an option.

"You've never asked where you are," Mr. Stark speaks again. He's at the window now, casually staring out.

"At the hospital, I guess," the boy says looking around confused. He didn't ask because he knows the answer.

"You're at the Avengers Tower, kid. In the med bay of the tower, precisely," the man explains turning back to him.

Peter's mouth falls open and Mr. Stark grins.

That makes sense. Dr. Banner wouldn't treat Peter at a normal hospital. He just didn't connect the dots. He blames the concussion that he apparently has.

"I thought the hospital wouldn't have been a good idea," Mr. Stark clarifies. "I mean I'm not sure your secret identity could have remained a secret there. Just because I decided to go all transparent, I respect that others might choose differently."

Mr. Stark seems so nice. Peter has seen him a few times before, at press conferences and stuff like that on TV, and the man always looked like a super confident, intelligent, funny but egoistic man. Someone who believes he's smarter than everyone else. Someone who wouldn't care for a boy like him. But he apparently does.

And here goes Peter, being all ungrateful.

"Thank you, Mr. Stark," he says. "For helping me."

"Don't mention it, Peter," Mr. Stark waves him off. "You saved me first, when those bastards turned off my suit. But there's another thing you've never asked about, kid."

The man walks back to the couch and grabs something that Peter can't see. Then he turns back to the boy.

"You've never asked how I know your name, Peter Parker."

The boy lowers his head. He doesn't want to talk about his miserable life as Peter Parker. He wishes Mr. Stark asked him about his powers, his healing abilities, his spider sense, the webs, the bite, anything. Like superhero to superhero. But… not about Peter.

He sighs. "You have all the crazy tech here. I guess it wasn't hard to figure out who I am," he mutters.

"Yeah, but I went old school and just hacked your phone," Mr. Stark shrugs, not sounding guilty about it at all as he's holding up Peter's weary phone. He must have found it in the secret pocket of the suit. Mr. Stark takes a closer look at the battered phone as if he has just found it. "Probably took nearly as many hits as you did."

A flame of anger flashes in Peter's eyes. Yeah, Mr. Stark is a billionaire who can buy a new phone every second, but not everybody can do that. There are people who actually have to work a lot to earn money for a new phone.

But Mr. Stark misunderstands his anger. "You need to understand. You're a kid, Peter. I had to know if your family was waiting for you to come home."

Suddenly, Peter's anger turns into sadness. Of course he understands that Mr. Stark had to know who to notify. But there's no one waiting for Peter to come home. No one waiting for news on him. No one worrying about him. And he knows that. This is his life. For like five months now. He knows he can't change it. He knows he should accept it. But it still hurts every single time he thinks of it.

His eyes fill and he's not sure if he can stop the tears from falling. He quickly looks down. He won't let Mr. Stark see him cry. He should be tougher than that. Superheroes don't cry. Mr. Stark must be already disappointed that Spiderman is just a kid; Peter can't disappoint him even more with this childish crying.

Then he suddenly remembers that according to the official story, he does have family.

"It's okay, I just need to call my aunt. Julia," he murmurs still looking down. He doesn't trust himself to look up at Mr. Stark. Not when those traitorous tears are still there.

The man sighs. "Peter, I know your Aunt Julia doesn't exist."

That makes Peter look up. He doesn't care anymore if Mr. Stark notices his tears or not. But the boy is unable to speak. He's frozen.

Mr. Stark runs his hands through his hair and looks at Peter with concerned eyes. "I had to check. I mean I found documents stating that you live with your aunt, Julia and her family. I thought I needed to inform her about you. But I couldn't find her. I called her number. I sent her emails. Nothing. I even sent someone to check out her, correction, your address, but someone else lives there. So I searched for her in every known database. Until I realized she doesn't exist. She's made up. And I guess you made her up. Who else would have?"

Peter is still in shock. Not only because his secret has finally come out, but also because Tony Freaking Stark is the very first person who actually took an effort to check out his story! No one has ever cared enough to check the contact info Peter provided or to check if Julia is a real person at all. Okay, last night might have been an emergency, but there are people who should have done that without waiting for an emergency to happen, right?

"What's your deal, kid?" Mr. Stark asks observing Peter as if he's some kind of rare specimen. "I mean you're smart, your grades are amazing, you're practically a wunderkind. And while you're so great at school, you're a superhero by night. But what do you do when you're not at school or in your suit?"

"I work at a grocery store after school," Peter offers weakly.

Mr. Stark gives him a sad smile and steps closer. "I know you have no family, kid. Where do you live?"

"Queens," Peter shrugs looking away.

"I figured that much myself," the man snorts.

There's a long silence while Mr. Stark is obviously waiting for him to talk, but Peter remains silent. What does this man want from him? Up until last night, his life was simple. Not perfect, far from that, but it was only school, job at the store, being Spiderman and sleeping in the warehouse. No one asking questions. And yes, it's miserable to say the least, but it's his life. And he wants it back.

"You must be very disappointed that Spiderman is just a homeless kid!" Peter exclaims. He's so angry. He's angry because he has no family, no home, no people who care, not a safe place. It's so unfair! What has he done wrong? Why does he deserve this?

And he knows it's not Mr. Stark's fault, he has been only nice to him, much nicer than most people, but Peter doesn't care right now. He just wants to go back into his warehouse, curl into a ball on the old, filthy mattress and cry himself into sleep. Like basically every night.

"You're wrong, kid," Mr. Stark claims. "I'm not disappointed. On the contrary. I admire your strength. No matter how hard your life is, you're still the smartest kid at school and an amazing superhero."

But Mr. Stark doesn't know what he's talking about. Peter's anything but strong. Hell, he's not strong enough to fight back his tears or his anger! He's weak. He's pathetic. And he betrays everyone who praises Spiderman. If they knew who was under the mask, they would turn away disgusted.

"Please, go away, Mr. Stark," he mutters looking down again.

"Kid, are you sure-"

"Please, Mr. Stark."

Peter doesn't look up until he hears footsteps fading and the door closing.

Then he lets his tears fall free. Great. He's not only weak and pathetic. He can also add ungrateful to the list.

Chapter Text

It's the middle of the night and Tony is still sitting on the couch in his living room, staring into darkness. He hasn't bothered turning on the lights; he doesn't really need them for what he's been doing for a few hours now. Thinking. Mulling over everything Peter told him and everything he knows about Spiderman.

What is Tony supposed to do?

He has absolutely no idea. There's only one thing he knows for sure: the kid doesn't want him to do anything. He doesn't even want Tony near him. Okay, that might sound as if Tony's a pouting child but it's true. And for a reason he can't understand, it kinda hurts.

He knows Peter is upset. And Tony can't blame him considering the horrible line of tragedies that happened to him. And he went through most of that all alone. That would have been way too much for any adult, let alone for a kid.

And it sounds very sad but Peter's used to being alone. He's probably in shock that someone knows about him now and he can't handle it.

Maybe. And honestly, Tony doesn't know if he can handle it. Gosh, what should he do? Should he call some kind of social worker? The police? Okay, that would be too much.

He rubs his eyes tiredly. He should sleep, he knows that but he couldn't before, so why try now?

Maybe he should call Pepper. Okay, not now but in the morning.

Or maybe he shouldn't. He exactly knows what Pepper would say anyway. That Tony needs to alert the authorities. CPS.

But if he did that, Peter would hate Tony for betraying him. There's a reason why the boy didn't want to go into foster care and decided to live on the streets instead.

However, Pepper would say Peter's not old enough to make a decision like that.

And Tony knows Pepper would be right. Still. Something tells him this wouldn't be the right thing to do.

It would be the easiest way to deal with the kid, sure and Tony could go on with his life convincing himself that he helped bringing in a kid from the streets in the middle of winter. Peter has a roof over his head and a bed to sleep in, so it's all good. Maybe the kid would hate him first but later he would realize Tony did him a favor. And Tony would never meet him again anyway, so who cares if the kid hates him?

But this is not what Peter would want and Tony should respect that. At least, he should listen to the kid's reasons for not asking for help. Maybe he didn't do it because he's Spiderman and he worried that he couldn't go on with the superhero stuff while living in a foster family.

But no. Tony remembers the dates on the documents he found. The date of May Parker's death. The appearance of Aunt Julia. All that stuff had happened before Spiderman first turned up. So Peter had decided to live on his own before he became Spiderman.

Geez, this whole stuff is so complicated! Why does Tony have to deal with this? This is so not what he signed up for when he decided to go after Spiderman!

Spiderman is a kid. It's crazy! He still can't believe it.

He's a kid and a kid shouldn't live on the streets all alone. He needs people who care for him.

So he obviously doesn't need Tony.

The man wishes he never wanted to find out who Spiderman was; he wishes he never met him. He wishes he could just go on with his life oblivious to the fact that there's a lonely kid out there in the cold. See? He's not good at caring.

But… why can't he sleep then?

~

Morning comes and Tony decides to pay Peter another visit. Maybe another conversation could help him figure out what to do. Or make things even more complicated. But Tony can't stop himself, he needs to see the kid again, he needs to know more about him and he needs to ask the tons of questions he couldn't ask last night. He hopes Peter will be okay with that.

The door to the kid's room is partially open and Tony can see him sitting on the bed, back against the headboard and scrolling on his phone uninterestedly. He must be damned bored.

Earlier, Friday told the man that Peter hadn't required anything special to eat. He told the nurse whatever food he got would be fine. Tony couldn't help rolling his eyes hearing that.

At least, the kid looks better now. Bruce said Peter had almost fully recovered, which impressed the scientist very much. He called Peter's healing ability incredible. The concussion and the bruises are gone; the gunshot wounds have almost entirely healed. The boy could use some more weight, though, Bruce added.

He's right. Kid looks too small on the hospital bed. Smaller than a boy at his age should be.

Even though the door is open, Tony knocks. "Morning, kid. Do you mind if I come in?"

Peter looks up and nods putting away his phone. Then he quickly lowers his head again. Tony hates that he can't see the boy's eyes. Why wouldn't he look at him? Is he still mad?

The man walks into the room and stops at the edge of the bed. He decides to get straight to the point like he always does. "Listen, Peter. I'm sorry about last night. I shouldn't have pushed you."

Peter suddenly looks up at him and his eyes go wide. "What? No, Mr. Stark, I am sorry! So sorry. I mean… you've been so nice to me. You brought me here, got Dr. Banner to help me and let me stay until I recover and I was rude to you. I-I had no right... I kicked you out from the room that you own. Where you let me stay. The way I behaved… I have no excuse, Mr. Stark, I'm sorry."

Tony smiles. He likes Peter's rambling. It's much more fun than their conversation last night. Kid's adorable.

Gosh, does he really think the kid is adorable? What's next, he's painting the Iron Man suit pink?

"What if we start over?" Tony offers. "Do you mind if I sit down?" he gestures to the couch.

Peter seems stunned again. He has probably never expected the man to actually ask for his permission. He nods dumbly.

Tony drops himself on the couch and smiles at the boy. "Okay, what if you tell me how you became Spiderman? If it's okay with you, that is."

He won't push the kid this time. No, they can take it slow. So that he'll get his answers and Peter won't be upset again. Win-win.

Plus, he has a feeling that it's easier for the kid to talk about Spiderman than about Peter Parker. That's what upset him earlier. Not Spiderman but the boy under the mask. Tony could try to tell him again that he's not disappointed (surprised? sure, even shocked but definitely not disappointed) but he guesses Peter wouldn't believe him.

It seems easier to talk about Spiderman. About the strong, fearless, cool guy and not about the lonely, scared, sad kid.

And it turns out, Tony's right. Peter talks and talks. About the spider that bit him and got him sick (Tony suspects there are a few details left out, though), about his powers, his strength, his stickiness, his healing factor. He tells how he made his suit, how he came up with the web shooters and how he makes web-fluid at school. He tells how he stopped bank robbers, muggers, bicycle thieves. On and on.

And Tony can't wipe the amused smile off his face.

~

They have cheeseburgers, fries and milkshake for lunch. Tony has ordered twice as much food for the kid than for himself because he remembers Peter needs to eat a lot to heal. And gosh, the kid eats fast! Peter demolishes his double-size lunch faster than any Avenger would. And damn, those guys can eat.

Tony wonders if the kid has always enough to eat. Probably not, he's so thin that getting enough food must be an endless struggle for him.

"Thank you, Mr. Stark," Peter says finishing his shake.

"Don't mention it, kid," the man smiles. "I hope you feel better."

"I do, thank you. I'm totally fine now. I think I'll leave, Mr. Stark. I mean I'm grateful for your help, I really am but… I need to go. I don't want to miss school. No longer than necessary."

"Don't worry about school, kid. Aunt Julia called them and told you had the flu," Tony winks.

Peter cracks a small smile. "Did she?"

"Well, it wasn't as easy as I thought it would be. I mean I never thought it would be so hard to ask the AI I created myself to lie for me," Tony explains with mock frustration.

"I am not comfortable with providing false information to anyone, boss," Friday claims with a hint of resentment in her voice.

Peter looks around frantically trying to find the source of the voice.

"Kid, meet Friday, my AI. Friday, it's Peter," the man laughs. "Friday runs the Tower and acts as my usually helpful PA."

"Nice to meet you, Peter," Friday says kindly.

"Hello, Friday," the boy replies hesitantly, still trying to figure out where to look exactly while talking to the AI.

"Loyalty over honesty, that's all I'm saying, Fri," Tony continues grabbing his last fries. "And I mean loyalty to me. That's your job, girl, just leave the honesty to me, will you?"

"Of course, boss," Friday answers dutifully. Tony grins. He can almost hear an eye roll in the AI's voice.

"That explains why Ned asked me about sneezing and coughing," Peter says taking his phone from the bedside table. "Ned's my best friend," he quickly adds when Tony raises an eyebrow.

"I hope you didn't blow my cover story, kid," the man smirks. "Oh, and I meant to tell you that I'm giving you a new phone."

"You really don't have to, Mr. Stark. There's nothing wrong with this one," Peter protests holding up his phone.

"It might function but barely."

"I like this one, it's perfectly fine," the boy shrugs.

"Because the shattered screen reminds you of a spider web?" Tony laughs.

Peter gives him a mock pout and then smirks. Like a sassy teenager. The man grins back. When did they become so comfortable?

Tony realizes he likes spending time with the kid. Peter is smarter than most people he talks to; he's humble, kind and funny. It breaks Tony's heart when he remembers what horrors the kid went through. He totally didn't deserve any of that.

"Thank you, though," Peter says with a smile.

Tony realizes the kid is still talking about the phone. He nods nonchalantly. He decides not to push it. This strategy worked before, right? Maybe the kid would feel too uncomfortable if Tony gave him something more, a gift. Probably he's not used to getting help. Which makes Tony's heart wrench again, but he understands he can't overwhelm the kid either. Maybe later. Baby steps.

But there is something he needs to ask. Has to. Even if it could upset Peter again.

Tony groans and rubs his eyes. He hates ruining the positive atmosphere that they have built since morning. But he has no choice.

The boy must have noticed the sudden change in the air, because he quickly comes up with a question on his own before Tony could speak. "Don't you have somewhere to be, Mr. Stark? I mean I really appreciate that you're here with me, sir but I'm sure you're a very busy man with plenty of meetings and stuff."

The man grins. Kid has found a smart way to dodge whatever issue he thought Tony would bring up. And it's way more polite than asking him to leave like last night.

"This is where I want to be now, Peter," he assures the kid.

If it's possible, the boy looks happy and uncomfortable at the same time. Then he glances at the window, so Tony quickly gets up in case he needs to stop Peter from leaving again.

"Listen, kid, I know there are things you don't want to talk about, but we have to," he starts. Peter stares down at his hands as Tony continues. "Just… help me understand, alright? Why didn't you ask for help when Aunt May died? It might have been easier. I mean there's a good chance that they would have found you a foster home that is better than the streets. I know it wouldn't have been perfect; I get that, but the streets, kid! It's freaking January!"

"I don't sleep in an alley if that's what you think, Mr. Stark. I found an abandoned building," Peter all but mutters.

"Come on," Tony hisses. "Do you even hear yourself?"

The man knows he's walking on dangerous ground. He has promised himself to be careful and not to say anything that might upset Peter. He really doesn't want the kid to run away. He could tell Friday to lock the doors but he doesn't want it to come to that. He doesn't want a fight. He just wants to understand the motives of this kid. He's so smart, why on earth does he think that it's okay to be homeless when he has a chance for a better life? Yeah, some foster families might be creepy, but surely not all of them are that bad. Not that Peter would know, he has never even tried.

"Mr. Stark, I lost everything when May died," Peter starts with tears shimmering in his eyes. "Not just my only family but my home, too. My school and my friends are all I have now… What if they found me a family out of Queens or out of the city? I would have to leave behind the very last pieces of my old life, too. I just don't want that. I couldn't do that… I don't want any more changes."

Peter could have given it a try, though, right? Maybe they would have found him a nice family close enough to his school. On the other hand, after losing basically everything, the risk of having to leave must have looked way too big for the kid. And still, Tony asked him why he hadn't taken that risk.

The man remains speechless. All he wants to do is to literally bang his head against the wall. How could he be this stupid? This insensitive? Just last night he was thinking about how much this kid had lost, how hard his life was. Yet here he is now, asking Peter why he didn't want to risk losing more. Idiot!

Then another thought strikes him: he's so fucking bad at this. Dealing with emotions. Caring. What is the opposite of considerate? Because that's him. And he has made a poor kid cry. What is he supposed to do now?

He walks to the bed and sits down on the edge. He reaches out to grasp the kid on the shoulder. "I'm sorry, Peter. I should have known. I'm sorry."

Peter just nods while trying to swallow back his tears. This situation has obviously become awkward for both them. The boy doesn't want to cry in front of Tony and the man has absolutely no clue what to do with a sobbing child.

Then he has an idea. It's just a temporary solution and probably stupid, too, he knows that but at least it's something. "Hey, kid, listen. How does ice cream sound?"

Peter looks up at him and his red eyes go wide as if he couldn't quite believe what turn this painful conversation has suddenly taken. Tony gets it and snorts. It is really pathetic how he's attempting to comfort a sad kid. As if Peter's a toddler who's crying because he dropped his popsicle. As if they didn't talk about a bit more serious stuff than that, like losing family, living on the streets and foster care. Yeah, as if offering ice cream could be any consolation.

But to Tony's surprise, Peter gives him a small smile. "Yeah, ice cream sounds great, Mr. Stark."

Chapter Text

It's another sleepless night for Tony. Okay, he never really sleeps that much, but tonight he has a brand new reason for that. He doesn't know what to do with a juvenile superhero. And no matter how hard he tries, he just can't figure out what the best solution could be. Maybe because there is no such a thing like that at all.

If he calls the authorities, they might take away Peter who knows where. The kid would definitely hate Tony for betraying him and ignoring his decision to live by himself, but that's the least of the man's worries. If he believed this would be the best for the kid, he wouldn't hesitate to do it. Who cares if there's one more person in the world who hates him? Nothing new there.

But then Peter might never be able to go out as Spiderman again. Which would be bad, of course. But even worse, he might be put into a foster home that wouldn't make him happy. He might have to live with people who would make him feel miserable. He might even get depressed. And Tony doesn't want that on his conscience.

Then what? Should he just let Peter leave and go on with his lonely life on the streets? In the middle of winter? He might be enhanced and get along under dire circumstances, too but he's also just a kid. He needs more than a warm bed and food. He needs a loving, caring family, too.

Geez, could he expect Peter to make a mature decision in this situation? And speaking of mature decisions, could Tony come up with one?

Not for the first time tonight, the man knocks both of his fists to his forehead. Somebody just tell him what to do! Please!

~

Next morning, Tony is sipping his tenth coffee in a row, when Friday's voice breaks into his thoughts.

"Boss, Peter would like to know if you have a few minutes for him. He wishes to say goodbye before he leaves."

The man immediately jumps up. "What? Now? What time is it?"

"It's 6.28am. Peter says he wouldn't like to be late for school."

Of course he wouldn't. The little nerd with his excellent grades.

Tony hurries down to the med bay. He can't stop yawning despite the barrels of coffee he has drunk. He spent all night in his lab trying to distract himself with some upgrades on his suit. His thoughts kept going back to a certain minor superhero, though. Work was a real struggle last night.

In his room, Peter is already in his red and blue suit again and keeps fidgeting with the mask in his hands. He looks nervous, but his face lights up as soon as he notices Tony.

"Hello, Mr. Stark," he smiles. "I just want to thank you for everything you've done for me."

The man doesn't want to remind him that he has thanked him like a thousand times already. The boy obviously has way better manners than Tony.

"You're welcome, kid. You're leaving already?"

Tony can't help glancing at Peter's side where the incredibly fast healing gunshot wounds were. He can spot two holes in the suit and dark patches around them. He winces. Then he suddenly notices several other spots where the suit is torn or has a darker shade. Most of the splits are poorly sewn together. He knows they're reminders of the kid's old injuries and he suddenly feels sick.

But Peter doesn't notice that, he must be too eager to leave. "Yeah. Dr. Banner says I'm good to go," he announces cheerfully. "And I have to get back to school, so-"

"Just one more question, Peter," Tony holds up a hand.

The boy keeps looking at the window and doesn't seem very happy that the man is holding him back. But he must be too polite to say anything and just nods waiting for Tony to speak.

"You're not leaving through the window, kid," Tony says firmly.

"Actually, I was thinking of the roof, Mr. Stark, if you don't mind," the boy grins.

For a long moment, the man can't decide if the kid is joking or not. But it's not that he could just march through the lobby while wearing that suit, right?

Tony shrugs. "Okay, that actually makes sense. But that's not what I wanted to say. I just want to know who else knows you're Spiderman, kid."

"No one," Peter replies quickly, looking surprised as if the answer is obvious.

"Not even your friend at school?"

Peter laughs. "Ned would freak out if he knew."

"No shit. I wonder why," the man rolls his eyes.

"Is that all, Mr. Stark?" the boy asks looking really impatient now.

Tony groans. He knows Peter wants to leave because of the school, but he's not quite ready to let the kid go. Still, he gestures for the boy to follow him and they walk toward the roof.

"Okay, kid, I want you to know something before you leave. If you get injured, you will come here. If you are cold out there, you will come here. If you are exhausted, you will come here. If you are hungry, you will come here. Got it?"

Peter dutifully nods.

Tony sighs with his hand already on the handle of the door to the roof. He looks into the boy's eyes.

"Whenever you need help with whatever, you can always come here," he confirms once again and opens the door.

"Thanks, Mr. Stark!" Peter smiles and puts on his mask. Gosh, those goggles look ridiculous!

The kid suddenly starts running toward the ledge and in the next moment, he leaps over it.

Tony's heart stops. Did Peter really? Did he just jump off? How fast can he call his Iron Man suit?

He hurries to the ledge and leans over it. He can see the kid falling but then he shoots a web to a neighboring building and swings away. In mid-air, he turns back to Tony and waves at him.

The man could swear the kid's grinning under his stupid mask.

"You little shit," he murmurs and waves back smirking.

Chapter Text

Days pass without Spiderman ever checking in at the Tower. The days grow into weeks and still nothing. Tony regularly checks social media and knows the kid is out there patrolling, he's fine.

He's not surprised that Peter hasn't taken up on his offer. He's really not. But he can't help feeling a bit disappointed. And that does surprise him. Why should he care? He has told Peter to come by whenever he needs help and the fact that he hasn't come obviously means he doesn't need help. He doesn't need anything from Tony, not even a dinner. He rather sleeps wherever but here.

Sitting in his lab, the man slams his fist on the table frustrated. No, he's not hurt. He's not sad, either. He doesn't care!

Gosh, he's so confused, though! Before Spiderman came into his life, everything had been so easy. Uncomplicated. Emotional turmoil isn't new to him, no, but he could always deal with it somehow. But now? He's a wreck. And he doesn't even know why.

Since that dammed kid appeared in his life, he can't sleep. Okay, he could never really sleep through the night but now he hardly ever sleeps. He thought making amends with Peter after their first and very emotional conversation and offering him support would help him relax. He did what he could. He offered him his help. He doesn't really do that to anyone. It's not his fault that Peter has never accepted it. His conscience should be clear.

Except. He's the only one who knows who is under the red mask. Tony is the only one who knows it's just a kid. Without home or family. Without an adult to keep an eye on him, to care for him. Which means if something happens to Peter, it'll be on him.

And that means responsibility. A responsibility that Tony has never asked for.

He groans in frustration and this time he slams both of his fists on the table. Hard.

"Are you alright, boss?" comes Friday's concerned voice from the ceiling. "You heart rate seems elevated. Should I call Dr. Banner?"

"No, Fri, I'm good," the man assures her, running his hands through his hair.

He sighs. This kid will be the death of him. And he can't even blame Peter because it was Tony who went after the kid, who couldn't rest until he figured out Spiderman's identity. And where has that left him?

And he's been fool enough to fill up a cupboard in the kitchen with hot chocolate and candy bars, with stuff he thinks kids like. Even bought some extra boxes of ice cream. Well, he doesn't care anymore; he will eat all that stuff by himself!

"Boss, a new video of Spiderman has just been uploaded to several websites," Friday announces.

Tony looks up immediately. He has ordered Friday to alert him whenever she finds news on the superhero.

"Okay, Spiderman, what are you up to tonight?" he mutters and leans back in his chair, staring at the screen as the latest video starts streaming.

Apparently, two men attempted to rob a convenience store but as soon as they pulled out their guns to threaten the only employee behind the counter, Spiderman arrived and disarmed them with his webs. There were two customers in the store and one of them filmed the whole thing from behind a shelf. The old man at the cash register thanked the superhero who was busy with webbing up the bad guys.

"My pleasure, sir," Spiderman answered politely. "Anything to keep the neighborhood safe."

"Yeah, thanks, Spiderman! You're awesome!" the guy filming the whole scene yelled from his hiding spot.

Spiderman turned to him and gave him a little wave before leaving the store.

As the video ends, Tony decides to go back to the moment when Spiderman waved at the filming guy. He takes a closer look at the red and blue suit. He remembers holding and examining the very same suit while its owner was in surgery at the med bay and he also remembers observing it again when Peter was about to leave the Tower. Tony remembers how shocked he was when he realized Spiderman's suit was practically an onesie. Yes, Peter – unlike him – is enhanced, he's strong and everything and he doesn't need as much protection as a mere human like Tony. Peter doesn't need an Iron suit.

But he's not invincible either. He got shot in front of Tony's eyes. And the man still remembers the plenty of traces of old injuries on the kid's suit.

And then it hits him. If there's something, anything he can do to help Peter, this is it. The kid might need it more than a bed or a meal.

Tony orders Friday to start playing AC/DC, clasps his hands and smiles satisfied as he starts to work. Finally. After so many sleepless nights, he's back in his element.

~

The next day Tony pulls up in front of Peter's school. He asked Friday to find out when the bell rings and he's been on time. School's out and kids are storming out of the building. Geez, they're so loud!

Despite the mess in front of the school, he decides to get out of the car while waiting for Peter to show up. But a) his shiny new Audi has already received way too many curious looks and he hasn't even got out of the vehicle yet and b) if Tony meets the kid in public, he'll seriously risk his secret identity.

So he decides to leave instead and parks a few blocks away from the school. "Friday, let me know when you spot Peter."

"He has just left the school building with another student, boss."

"Are they coming this way?"

"The other boy is but Peter is heading north."

Tony quickly starts the car and let Friday navigate him to Peter. He can see the boy walking alone on the sidewalk. Battered backpack, hood on his head, earphones tucked in. Just like a regular teenager. The man shakes his head smirking. No one would ever guess this average boy walking down the street is the famous Spiderman.

He pulls up beside him, rolls down the window on the passenger side and leans over. Peter staggers back in shock and stares at him with bewildered eyes.

"Mr. St-Stark… what-what are you doing here?" he stammers and looks around quickly, obviously concerned who might see them.

"If I didn't know better, I would think you're embarrassed of me, Peter," Tony grins.

"Oh no, it's not that, Mr. Stark, it's just-" the boy jabbers.

"I know, kid, I know, I was joking." The man rolls his eyes. "Hop in. Before someone sees us," he winks.

This time, it's Peter who rolls his eyes but he obeys.

As he shuts his door, Tony drives off. "Finally. That was kinda creepy. Me picking up a kid from the street. God only knows what would have happened, if the paparazzi had seen that. Are you hungry? I am. I picked up some food on my way here," he says gesturing at a few paper bags on the backseat.

Peter automatically glances back but then turns to the man. "How did you find me?" he asks eyeing the man suspiciously.

The boy must remember Tony knows which school he goes to, they talked about it back at the Tower. But Tony didn't pick him up there; he met him on the street.

"Friday found you. She used satellites, no biggie," the man shrugs.

Peter's eyes go wide again, but he quickly regains composure and asks more questions. "What's happening, Mr. Stark? Where are we going?"

"How are you, kid?" Tony asks ignoring the boy's questions.

"I'm fine."

"School's good?"

The man knows Peter still excels at school. He might check his grades in the school's database every once in a while. But he figures adults always ask kids about school.

"Yeah, school's okay."

"Good."

Peter is still staring at Tony with wide eyes, probably wanting but not daring to ask him again about his plans. The man takes a pity on him and sighs. "Fine. I made something that I want to show you."

Earlier, Tony instructed Friday to look for an area that is remote enough to test his latest invention far from prying eyes. The AI offered a park just out of Queens. A few minutes later Tony pulls into an empty parking lot. The whole place looks deserted, as if no one has been here for at least a hundred years. It's not really a park anymore but more like the ruins of a park. With high grass, some fallen trees, half-destroyed benches and trash everywhere.

Tony looks around frowning. From the corner of his eye, he can see Peter is doing the same.

"Wow, that's creepy. Friday, is this the best you could find?

"You wanted a remote place, boss."

Tony glares. "And you're sure no one's here, right, girl?"

"Absolutely."

"Great. Let me know if you see someone anyway," the man orders and gets out of the car. He takes the bags from the backseat and starts walking toward a picnic table. The benches on both sides are broken. Tony doesn't mind, he hops up on the table and starts unpacking the bags. Just the usual stuff: cheeseburgers, fries and shakes. "Come on, Peter, dig in."

The kid hesitantly sits down beside Tony and takes the burger that the man offers to him.

Tony gives him a smile. "I know, kid, it looks very weird that I've brought you to this creepy place, but don't forget, you're enhanced and I'm not. And I don't have an Iron suit with me, I promise."

He's joking again of course, but the boy takes it seriously anyway.

"It's not that I'm worried about, sir," he says. "I just… I just don't understand what's going on."

"I'll let you know soon. First, let's eat."

Peter hesitates again, staring down at the burger in his hands, but when Tony starts eating, he follows suit. While they're eating, the man keeps asking questions about school and Spiderman, carefully avoiding topics that might bring up bad memories or could make the kid feel that he has to share something he doesn't want to. Like where he lives exactly or when the last time was when he had a proper meal. Because he's devouring his food at rapid speed. Tony has to stop himself from telling the kid to slow down before he chokes on the fries or something.

Finally, all food is gone and Peter looks at Tony expectantly. The man sighs and walks back to the car to grab another paper bag. He returns to the table and lays the bag on Peter's lap. The kid looks up at Tony, probably waiting for permission to actually open the bag. Gosh, Peter will kill him with his modesty and manners. The man groans. "Come on, kid, open it!"

Peter finally does and then pulls out something that suspiciously looks like… like a suit. Like a very, very upgraded version of his Spiderman suit. Holding it in his hands, Peter is in such awe that he is unable to speak. He just can't stop staring at the suit. He carefully lays it on his lap, slowly running his fingers on the special material as if it is the most precious thing he has ever touched.

"So what do you think?" Tony asks grinning, unable to wait for Peter to speak.

"Is this…?" the boy whispers, holding up the suit. He can't take his eyes off it, which Tony considers a good sign.

"This is your new suit, kid. It gives you much better protection than your old one. The material is tough but flexible. Protects you in combat and perfectly suitable for swinging around in the city."

"You made this for me?" Peter asks still stunned and looks at Tony with wide eyes. Then he carefully folds the suit.

"Why, do you know another superhero with a spider fetish? Why don't you try it on?"

The boy gazes at the red material in his lap again. "I can't accept it, Mr. Stark."

The man groans. "Seriously, kid? I've just made you a super cool, multimillion-dollar suit and I need to persuade you to take it? Okay, you have to accept it, kid because I don't know what to do with it otherwise. I mean I have my Iron suits, which are perfectly fine for me, thank you very much. I definitely won't parade around in the city in that," he claims pointing at the new suit.

Peter grins. Tony guesses the kid has just imagined him in the Spiderman suit. Yeah, that would be a really ridiculous sight.

"You really shouldn't have, Mr. Stark," the boy tries again, but Tony knows it's just the last weak attempt to reject the gift. He has already won.

"What can I say, kid?" he shrugs. "I couldn't sleep last night."

And a few nights before that, he adds to himself.

Peter finally gives him a smile and a few minutes later, he performs a perfect backflip on the table, wearing his brand new suit. "Yes!" he exclaims enthusiastically. "Mr. Stark, it smells like a new car in here!"

Tony laughs. And he can't stop laughing while he's watching Peter swinging around in the park. The kid cheerfully jumps and climbs and swings and flips. Like a circus acrobat on sugar high. The four shakes might have been too much.

After a while, Tony hops up on the table again and pulls out his phone. He might as well check his emails, while the kid is playing out there. He reads and answers several mails. He makes three conference calls. Talks to Pepper twice preparing for his next meetings. He analyses and solves a problem with one of the repulsors of an Iron suit.

And the kid is still out there swinging and cheering. Tony feels like a parent on the playground waiting for his kid to get tired of climbing frames.

He smiles. He has never given a gift that has made someone this happy. He's good then, right? He has helped the kid. He's given him protection. Peter will be good now. And Tony can finally sleep.

Suddenly, the kid lands in front of him in true Iron Man fashion, pulls back his mask and grins at Tony.

"Copycat," the man snorts. "So what do you say, kid? Will you keep it?"

~

That night, Tony decides to stay away from his lab. He'll just grab some food, watch a movie and go to bed. It's gonna be a nice evening. A calm one.

He had a really good afternoon with Peter. The kid thanked him for the suit like a thousand times and Tony made him promise to give an honest feedback. A few modifications and upgrades might be needed. The man reminded Peter that he regularly upgraded his own suits, too. Plus, something could go bust during a fight.

He told the kid to swing by the Tower whenever he needed to have the suit repaired or modified. Tony also told the boy that he could help him with the suit. And then he repeated his earlier offer about the bed and food. Peter nodded and promised to drop in. Tony couldn't decide if the kid was honest or just polite again. Whatever. It's not that he could make Peter visit. Tony did what he could. It's not up to him anymore.

And now he can settle on the couch with a pizza, pop up his legs on the coffee table and turn on the TV. "Hey, Friday, be a dear and check where's Peter right now. Just in case."

He won't do that all the time. He has promised himself he won't be like a creepy stalker. Peter knows he can always come here if he needs help. Putting a tracker in the suit has been really unnecessary. An overkill.

"Boss, it seems the tracker in Peter's suit has been disabled," Friday announces.

Tony lets the pizza slice fall back on the plate in his lap. For a few seconds, time seems frozen. What?! Seriously?

Then he shakes his head and laughs. "Wow, kid. That was fast."

Chapter Text

It's the middle of the night and Peter is sitting on his mattress in the warehouse, his left arm stretched out, as he's trying to stitch a cut that he has just got during his latest patrol. He's nearly done but he's far from satisfied: the ugly zigzag is a clear proof that no matter how many times he has done it, he'll never be able to improve his stitching skills. Thanks to his healing ability, though, his wounds never scar. If they did, they would look horrible.

And this cut? It doesn't even hurt anymore. It's not that bad. Really. But worse is the suit probably has a cut, too. What should he do? Sew it? Can he do that? The fabric seems way too thick to pierce it through with his small needle.

Should he pay a visit to Mr. Stark then? He said Peter could come to the Tower if the suit needed to be fixed. But wouldn't Mr. Stark be disappointed that Peter damaged it only after like six days? Wouldn't Mr. Stark be mad that Peter ruined the suit that he had worked so hard on? Okay, it's not exactly ruined; it's not such a big cut but still.

And the suit is so awesome! No criminal mocks him anymore; they seem much more scared when Spiderman arrives to stop them. Peter doesn't know if he seems more intimidating because of the cool suit or because he feels much more confident wearing it. Probably both. Not that he had any problem with his old suit. He always knew it wasn't nearly as cool as the suit of any Avenger, but he thought it didn't really matter what he was wearing. The only thing that mattered was what he did as Spiderman: fighting crime, helping people. It wasn't important what he was wearing while he was doing that. His old suit had basically one job to do: to hide Peter's identity and it was capable of that.

But his new suit? Man, it's so cool! It looks amazing! And Mr. Stark has been right: it gives him better protection; Peter has far less injuries now. Just like Mr. Stark said: it's tough but flexible. Sometimes Peter swings around in the city in his new suit just for fun.

Anyway. The cut. He sighs and continues working on his wound. His thoughts keep taking him back to the Tower, though. He thinks about Mr. Stark's offer. Bed and food. He thinks about it all the time. He often decides to take it, just one night, just one dinner. And then he always changes his mind. Sometimes even at the very last moment.

Like two days ago. He was so hungry. Practically starving. And it had been raining for three days nonstop. Okay, the warehouse he stays in has a roof, but that roof has a lot of holes. Like plenty. And it was so cold…

So he came to a decision. He would drop in the Tower, he would accept Mr. Stark's offer and have a warm meal. Just this one time. A soup would have been really nice.

So he swung over to Manhattan; he could already see the bright lights of the Tower. Just a few more blocks.

But then… he stopped. He can't go there! What was he thinking? Mr. Stark is a very busy man. A superhero and a successful businessman. He attends meetings all day and works in his lab or saves the world all night. He has no time for Peter. Mr. Stark was very nice to him, yes, he helped him a lot but that offer? That offer was just a courtesy of a polite man. That was a good-mannered gesture. Nothing more. Like when people ask how you are but they don't really want to know, it's just a figure of speech. And he shouldn't think more of Mr. Stark's proposition.

Plus, he doesn't need help. Peter is a superhero on his own right. And superheroes don't go begging for food or a place to crash. Yes, he might have some problems right now but he manages. He's okay. He just needs to put a brave face on and tough out. He has done that so far. Why should he give up now? Winter is over, it's not even that cold anymore and who knows? Maybe by next winter he'll have a place to stay. He'll figure it out somehow.

Still. It would be nice to visit Mr. Stark. Maybe just for a talk. Because he's the only one who might understand Peter. No, he wouldn't. But at least, he understands Spiderman. Their conversations about superhero stuff were so awesome. The best that happened to him lately. He could forget about the miserable life of Peter Parker, he could forget about the lonely orphan kid and pretended that only the cool, strong Spiderman existed. Mr. Stark is the only one who knows about his alter ego, the only one Peter could talk to about that stuff. And it felt so liberating to discuss Spidey things.

And Spiderman has always trusted Mr. Stark. His spider sense never warned him whenever the man showed up. Not in the Tower when he first woke up and didn't know where he was and not in the street, when they met after school a few days ago. And that sense of his has always been right; it has always told him who he could trust.

So yeah. It would be good to talk. Even better than sleeping in a real bed or getting enough to eat.

But talking has never been on the table, right? Just accommodation, meal and repairs of the suit. Mr. Stark might not even be in the Tower if Peter dropped in. He must be on a business trip all the time.

Why would Mr. Stark care about him anyway? Why would he care about the miserable kid under the mask? No one does.

The boy can still remember the utter shock on the man's face when he figured out Peter was homeless.

He winces. The word still feels so weird. Odd. He knows it fits. He just can't get used to it. And he has a home, right? It might be an old, abandoned warehouse, way worse than his previous home was, he can't even compare the two but for now? This is his home.

He just feels so ashamed. He feels ashamed about what his life has become. He knows, yes, he does know it's not his fault. It's not his fault that Aunt May died, it's not his fault that he has no other living relative left and it's not his fault that he's still a kid who couldn't stay by himself in their apartment. None of this is his fault. He can't help feeling ashamed, though.

And yeah, maybe Mr. Stark doesn't care about Peter, but if he did? The boy wouldn't go to the Tower anyway. Because the man would look at him with pity in his eyes like all the adults do. And they don't even know the half of it. They feel sorry for Peter because he lost his aunt. They don't know how much more he lost. They don't know that he has no home or family anymore. Only Mr. Stark knows. If Peter went to the Tower, the man would surely take pity on him. And Peter doesn't need pity.

Anyway. Cut. Stitches. It's too dark and the needle is so small. He really doesn't want to stab himself more times than necessary. He might as well use the new mask. It might have some kind of function that could help. Because the suit has tons of functions. Peter believes he still hasn't found most of them since he first hacked it.

Unlike the tracker. When he first hacked the suit out of simple curiosity (it's so awesome, he just wanted to know everything about it), he was very surprised when he found a tracker. Why did Mr. Stark put a tracker into his suit? Did he want to keep track of Peter? Why was it important to him to know where Peter was? Or was it there only for emergencies? Anyway, he quickly decided to disable it. Before Mr. Stark could have found him here. Yeah, that would have been just nice. Mr. Stark appearing in this warehouse. He would have called CPS right away.

Actually, it's kinda surprising that he hasn't called them yet. At least, that's what Peter had thought until he figured out the reason. If Mr. Stark believes Peter can make it even under these sad circumstances, he definitely will.

Going back to the cut again. Right. The mask. Plenty of functions. Mr. Stark doesn't do anything halfway, right?

Peter has connected the suit to the battered computer that he built from parts from his old room and stuff he found in dumpsters. It's perfectly fine to go through all the settings and protocols of the suit. It still amazes Peter how much time and effort Mr. Stark put into it. Into the suit for him. The boy can't understand why Mr. Stark did it. And he didn't ask Peter for anything in exchange. Probably he will. Mr. Stark must have some kind of ulterior motive, right? He seems really nice; he has been always very kind to Peter but the suit? It's too much for a gift.

Of course Peter is very grateful. The suit is awesome. Has made his life so much easier. And not just the crime fighting part. When he discovered the heater in the suit... Gosh, one of the best days of his life.

Peter puts on the mask and tries to find a way to make the rest of the stitching easier. Maybe some more light? Still stunned, he goes through the many functions, aimlessly trying out settings he has absolutely no idea about, when suddenly a female voice breaks into his thoughts.

"Hello, Peter. How may I help you?"

~

When Peter thought there was no cooler thing in the world than his new suit, he was wrong. So wrong! Because obviously, there's no cooler thing in the world than his new suit with his personal AI in it!

His life has dramatically changed since he accidentally discovered Karen. Yes, the suit Mr. Stark gave him made his patrolling way more effective, but Karen has brought it to a whole new level. She has helped him find his way around the many settings of the suit (even though they still have some arguments about choosing the most suitable ones) and she's provided him tons of information to stop criminals. Like camera feeds, police reports, access to practically every known database in the world. She's like an awesome sidekick who can always help out Spiderman.

And sometimes she can also help Peter. Like when she helps him with his homework. (That's not cheating, right?) But she helps the most when she's the only one Peter can talk to.

He knows it's pathetic. Karen is not a real person, she's just an AI; she hadn't even had a name until Peter gave her one. And Karen cares about him only because it's her job. That's how Mr. Stark programmed her. She's not real.

Yet sometimes she sounds very real with all the hovering. Like a parent.

"Peter, may I suggest going to sleep now? You have to get up early for school tomorrow," Karen says while Peter's sitting in a broken window of the warehouse after patrolling.

He's staring at the black sky numbly. He needs some time until the adrenaline from patrol runs off. He had a busy night with stopping muggers and drug dealers. And two of those dealers were lurking around Peter's school, so he was extra mad at them. What if they approached some kids from school?

"I know, Karen, thanks," he sighs. "I just don't think I could fall asleep now."

"And why is that, Peter, if I may ask?" the AI probes.

The boy smiles. Whenever he uses one of the amazing features of the suit, he always thinks of Mr. Stark fondly. And he does the same whenever his AI is this nice to him. Because Mr. Stark has made Karen not just functional and efficient but kind, too. Yeah, he still remembers she's not a real person. But she's very kind for someone who is not real.

"You know, Karen, today is Aunt May's birthday," Peter explains sadly.

Yeah, that's the real reason why he can't sleep just yet. Not the adrenaline rush. But he has tried his best all day not to think of it. Not to think how they would celebrate if May was still here. Just the two of them. They would go out for Thai. And that waiter who had a crush on May would bring her a dessert on the house. And then they would go home and watch a movie or two. It would be a really nice evening. Just May and him.

Instead here he is, sitting in a creepy old warehouse always hungry and exhausted and what's even worse, always on the verge of tears. He's getting tired of this. Of how shitty his life is. He honestly doesn't know what he would do if he didn't have Spiderman as an occasional getaway from this misery.

And all because someone was careless and stupid and hit May. They made a mistake that cost a life. And they got away with it. They just drove off never looking back. Never trying to help. Never seeing what damage they caused. That they actually killed someone. They took away a kid's only family. Made him an orphan. Ruined his life forever. Here is Peter alone, cold, hungry and devastated, while they can go on with their happy lives forgetting what harm they did. Took a life and ruined another one.

Peter's sadness turns into anger. He lets out a frustrated cry and punches the window. The glass instantly shatters and plenty of tiny shards scatter the ground, glistening in the moonlight. The sharp edges around the new hole in the window are stained red. Stunned, Peter stares at the ruby-colored glass and then glances down at his hand. Connecting the dots takes longer than usual. Weird.

"Peter, the cuts on your hand require medical attention. They should be examined if there are glass shards in them and then properly dressed," Karen informs him.

The boy sighs. He gets up and unenthusiastically grabs his medical kit from beside the mattress. He sits down, pulls out some bandage and haphazardly dresses the cuts.

"Peter, that's not good enough," his AI complains. "May I suggest calling Mr. Stark for help-"

"And may I suggest searching for the police report on May's death?" Peter all but snaps.

Gosh, it's so frustrating that Karen keeps offering to call Mr. Stark, whenever some kind of problem arises! As if he couldn't handle some little cuts by himself. This is obviously Mr. Stark's doing, he programmed the AI like this. But Peter doesn't need help!

"As you wish, Peter," Karen replies willingly, though.

The boy flops down on the mattress, glancing up at the dirty ceiling, at the abstract pattern of wet spots. He hits his forehead with his fists. "I'm sorry, Karen. So sorry. I didn't mean to yell at you. It was rude," he mutters.

"It's okay, Peter. I have found the police report for you."

Chapter Text

Peter is sitting on the roof of an office building in Lower Manhattan. There's a fancy and very expensive restaurant on the opposite side of street and black limousines keep pulling up, bringing new, elegantly dressed guests.

The boy ignores the unimaginably huge gap between his life and the lives of these people. Ignores how much money they must pay for their dinner here. How much money they must have paid just for their shoes. Money that he has never had and probably never will.

He also ignores how different their homes must be from his dark corner back in the warehouse.

Because it's not why he is here now. To observe crazy rich people and hate them just because they don't have problems like him. No, he's here to observe only one of them. Yes, Peter is on a stakeout and he has eyes only for one guy: Hal Wentworth.

The twenty-something man arrived alone about an hour ago, he has a meeting with some business partners in the restaurant. Peter saw him enter the building and through the window, he can see him now with four other guys at a table. Drinking wine and eating lobster. Probably discussing business.

Wentworth must be telling a funny story now, because everyone at the table is laughing.

Here he is. The guy who killed May just a few months ago. Hit her and never looked back to check if she was still alive, let alone to try to help. Here he is now, light-heartedly joking around like someone who doesn't have anything to worry about. And thing is, he really doesn't.

Peter never read the police report before. They never really told him anything, he's just a kid after all. They didn't give him any details about the accident. And truth is, Peter never really cared. He was way too sad to care about it; the painful feeling of loss filled up all of his thoughts. He only knew that the driver had left and there had been no trace of them. There was nothing he could do about it. Until now.

Peter read the police report that Karen had found about two hours ago and it made him sick.

He remembers when he made up his story about Aunt Julia and everyone believed it without a doubt, it made him disgusted at the system. It made him disgusted that adults who were supposed to be responsible for his wellbeing, let him slip out of the system because they never took an effort to check the facts. He remembers he thought the system was rotten.

But this? This is a new low.

When Aunt May was hit, there were only a handful of people in the street, just very few witnesses. They couldn't really provide any useful lead for the police about the car that hit her or about the driver. Partial license plates. Unreliable descriptions. Mere details. Nothing valuable to work with.

But there was an ATM on the corner and they could use its camera feed. And that feed did show the car, the license plate, everything. It was a black sports car, worth more than the apartment Peter used to live in. The police could identify the driver. They could find the person who had killed May.

And the car belonged to Hal Wentworth. Only son of business mogul Carlisle Wentworth.

But when the police arrived to question him, it turned out that the car had been stolen on the day before the accident. Later, the police found the vehicle burnt out in an abandoned area out of the city. They couldn't figure out who had stolen it. It was a very expensive car, that must have been the reason why it had been stolen, but when the thief made the mistake to hit someone, they had to get rid of it.

At least, that's what the police said. They couldn't do anything. Case closed.

But Peter decided to dig deeper. He was way too deep in his sorrow and anger and couldn't let go just yet. He hadn't look into the case before and now that he did, he just couldn't move on.

And surprisingly, he cracked the case in a few minutes. And what he found? That's what made him sick.

First, he checked out Hal Wentworth. Officially, the man wasn't responsible for his aunt's death, but Peter wanted to know more about the guy who owned the car that killed May. He checked Wentworth's social media accounts, focusing on the day of the hit. There was nothing. Nothing for several days. The guy might have been affected by the events after all.

But then Peter found a photo. It was a selfie taken by one of Wentworth's friends and he was also there, tagged in the photo. It was taken on the day of the accident. A group of friends looking happy, in front of a park in Manhattan. Nothing interesting. Except for the car the people were leaning on. It was Wentworth's car.

Which means the guy still had the car on that day. It hadn't been stolen on the day before, as it was stated in the police report. Wentworth had it. It must have been him who hit May after all. He was the one who killed her and left.

He must have panicked. Or maybe not. He might have remained deadly calm. Guys like him? Sons of extremely rich people? Spoiled brats? Probably it wasn't his first mistake. Maybe not even his biggest one. He might have known immediately what to do or who to call to clean up his mess. Maybe daddy dearest. Rich people can get away with anything. Money can buy immunity. Money can buy the cooperation of authorities. Money can put them above the law.

Because when Peter asked Karen to look into the police file that reported Wentworth's car stolen, she found that it had been tampered with. Dated back a day.

Wentworth or his father fabricated the story about the car theft. They might have told one of their goons to get rid of the vehicle. Then they bribed someone at the police to forge the report. They might have bought several people to go silent and do nothing about this.

That's it. Case really closed. It was just a nurse who died, who cares? Absolutely no reason to ruin Wentworth's life, right? May wasn't worth that much.

When Peter realized what had happened, he couldn't stop yelling and punching the walls for several minutes. He ignored his bleeding knuckles. He ignored Karen's first composed, then more and more concerned voice trying to calm him down, saying he could seriously hurt himself. He ignored when Karen once again offered to call Mr. Stark.

And finally, he collapsed to the ground, propped his elbows on his knees, lowered his head into his hands and sobbed. The pain of losing May, losing his old life, losing everything and being utterly alone hit him with a new force.

And once again, the pain turned into anger. To fury. He wiped off his tears, took a few deep breaths, got up and leaped out of the window.

He asked Karen to track down Hal Wentworth. Maybe the guy thought he could get away with this, but gosh, he was so wrong. If he thought he could just kill someone, orphan a kid and live his life as if nothing happened, he was seriously mistaken.

Tonight he's going to face with the damage he's done. And he's going to pay.

So that's the reason why Peter is currently sitting patiently across the fancy restaurant, waiting for Wentworth to finish his late business dinner and leave. Because Peter wants him alone when he confronts him. He doesn't want anyone to witness what he is about to do.

"Peter, are you sure this is a good idea?" his AI asks concerned. "It's getting really late now."

"This is the right thing to do, Karen," the boy firmly replies.

Who cares if it's late? Who cares if he has school tomorrow? School is literally the last thing on his mind right now. Because now he has eyes only for the man behind that restaurant window. The carefree man in elegant suit, telling yet another joke, making his guests laugh again. The man who killed his aunt and ruined his life for good.

About half an hour passes and Wentworth finally leaves. The valet brings his car –a brand new sports car, green this time – and he gets in.

Peter pulls down his mask.

Spiderman gets into action and follows the car throughout the streets of Manhattan, swinging discreetly above the traffic. Wentworth is heading home, Spiderman guesses knowing his address now. Which is perfect. Because there's a side street he needs to drive through to get home. A side street with minimal traffic, probably none this late. It'll be perfect to stop and confront him far from prying eyes. Just like he planned.

And when Wentworth does turn into that street, Spiderman jumps and lands hard on the roof of his car.

Wentworth hits the brakes immediately and the car stops with screeching tires in the middle of the street. The man leans forward, peeking through the windscreen, trying to figure out what has happened.

Spiderman causally flips to the ground beside the car. He waits for a moment until Wentworth's eyes find him. Is the guy scared? Or just confused? No, there's a hint of panic in his eyes. Good. Does he already know why Spiderman is here?

The superhero reaches forward and with one swift motion, he rips off the door of the car.

Spiderman's breathing heavily.

There he is. The man who took everything from him. Who is responsible for all the shit that happened to him. Who made him an orphan.

He is face to face now with May's killer.

Chapter Text

Tony enters the kitchen, turns on the coffee maker, sits down by the table and props his head in his hands. He's staring at the machine furiously as if he could make it work faster with his severe look. No such luck though, his coffee is not ready yet. He groans irritated.

"Friday, remind me to invent a superfast coffee maker later tonight. Something that brews coffee under three seconds."

"Certainly, boss," the AI replies keenly, but Tony swears he can hear a grin in her voice.

"Do not mock me, girl, will ya?"

"Would never, boss," Friday answers and the man rolls his eyes. She is mocking him.

The elevator doors open and Bruce Banner walks in. "Rough day?" he asks, taking a look at his friend at the table. He steps to the refrigerator and pulls out a water bottle.

"By all means, be my guest," Tony frowns waving at him. He knows by now he should be used to this, used to that everyone walks around in his living area like it's the common room.

"Sorry," Bruce says sheepishly and settles at the table. "I heard that you'd come back and just want to know how Boston was."

Tony sighs. "Like any business meeting. Boring."

The coffee is finally ready and he all but shoots up to pour the freshly brewed, aromatic drink into his mug and when he sits back to the table, he looks more relaxed already. "I should probably retreat into my lab and tinker something. Much more fun than any conference room."

"Barton says he would be happy to get some new gear from you," Bruce remarks grinning.

"I bet. I just don't know if he deserves any original Stark design," Tony snorts.

"Like Spiderman does?" the scientist lifts an eyebrow.

Tony doesn't answer.

So Bruce noticed Spiderman's new outfit and correctly guessed Tony had made it for him.

For the kid who he let go with that brand new suit and who he has never heard from ever since. No, he's not disappointed. He's just surprised, right?

Okay, who is he kidding? Of course he's disappointed. The kid has never popped in at the Tower, even though Tony offered him twice. And he barely invites anyone to the Tower. Ever.

Yet he did invite that annoyingly twitchy kid who can't stop jumping around and never shuts up about his Spidey things but for what? It's been totally pointless.

"What about Peter by the way?" Bruce asks.

Tony rubs his eyes frustrated. "What do you mean?"

"Where is he?"

"I don't know. I guess he's swinging around in Queens, stopping bike thieves and rescuing stray cats," Tony shrugs, hoping his friend can't hear the disappointment in his voice.

The scientist sighs. "Tony, don't you think you should have called the authorities? He's what? Fifteen? And he's out there on the streets all by himself."

"Don't forget he's not a regular kid, Bruce. He's Spiderman," Tony reminds him, knowing his argument is pathetically weak.

Unsurprisingly, it can't convince Bruce.

"Still, he's just a kid!" he heatedly points out. "He might survive on the streets, yes, but his life should be about more than surviving, don't you think? A child needs more than just a place to stay and enough food to eat. And he doesn't even have any of those. I mean you saw him, Tony, he's malnourished! Oh, and let's not forget that he regularly gets injured. I know he's healing factor is incredible, but it doesn't mean that it's okay to get wounded on a daily basis!"

Okay, Bruce seems really upset now. He doesn't really talk this much or get this agitated. It's obviously not the first time that he doesn't agree with Tony, but he is usually much calmer when he expresses his opinion. Yes, he always brings up reasonable arguments – like now – but he formulates them way less intensely.

Not that Tony could blame him. Because he knows Banner is right. He knows the kid needs family, needs a home and suit or no suit, it's not right to leave him out there to his own devices. But-

"Have you told Pepper about him?" Bruce's voice breaks through his thoughts.

"No." Tony lowers his head like he's some kind of misbehaving child expecting to be rightfully scolded.

He hates this. He should be able to come up with some kind of unquestionable defense, right? Tony Stark is always ready to prove he's right in his charismatic, captivating way that leaves absolutely no room for argument. He's always the super confident, self-satisfied one. Why isn't he now?

"And why haven't you told Pepper?" Bruce asks again and instead of waiting for a response, he answers his question himself. "Tony, we both know you haven't told her because you exactly know what she would say. And you wouldn't like her opinion," the scientist explains tiredly.

Tony rolls his eyes. Why does Banner always have to be right tonight? Why can he see right through him?

"I don't wanna call CPS on him, okay?" he finally snaps. "They would probably put him into a shitty foster home. Yes, there's a slight chance they might find him some loving, pitch perfect family that usually exists only in the movies, but who can guarantee that? And who knows what would happen to the Spiderman thing then? I can't let them take that away from him! I know if someone wanted to take Iron Man from me, I'd go crazy. Kid probably wouldn't handle it well, either."

Bruce shakes his head. "Fine. You don't want to bring in the authorities. I get that. But then what's your plan, Tony? Like I said you can't just leave him out there. That cannot be an option!"

"He knows he can always come here if he needs help. I told him. Twice," Tony shrugs. But again, he knows it's a weak argument.

And his friend doesn't hesitate to point it out. "Has he ever come?"

Tony shakes his head defeated, staring at his coffee mug. Then he glances up and throws in his final argument. "I did make him a suit to keep him safe, though," he frowns, knowing exactly it's not a good enough point, either.

Bruce sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. "Geez, Tony. What if something happens to him again and you won't be there to help?"

Tony groans frustrated and slams his fist on the table hard. "Why is this damned kid my responsibility? It's not up to me if he wants to go out there like a freaking wannabe superhero!"

"I know responsibility is your least favorite word, Tony, but I don't think you can run away from this now," Bruce smiles sadly.

"What are you saying, Banner?" Tony asks irritated, shifting uncomfortably on his chair. He so doesn't like where this conversation is going. "I won't call CPS. I won't do that to him."

That would feel like betrayal. The kid clearly told him he didn't want that. Of course Tony can't expect Peter to make a mature decision on the matter. But then again, can Tony be expected to make one?

"Okay, fine. Don't do that," Bruce nods, raising his hands in surrender.

Why does he suddenly seem okay with this? This must be some kind of trap.

"I agree that it would be really hard to find a proper family for Peter. A family that makes him happy and tolerates or even supports his spider activities," Bruce explains. "There can't be many families like that."

"Agreed," Tony nods, eyeing his friend suspiciously. He's still so confused. Where exactly are they going here?

"But," Banner continues.

Tony closes his eyes. Okay, here comes the truth. Why does he have a feeling that he won't like it?

"But he can't stay on the streets by himself either. No matter how amazing suit he has," the scientist claims. He looks at Tony expectantly.

Yeah, this is definitely a trap. And Tony doesn't know how to get out of it. He guesses there is a correct answer, some magic words that his friend wants him to say, but he honestly can't figure it out. Or he doesn't want to.

"I agree," he starts carefully, „that Peter's life circumstances are not entirely ideal."

Bruce is still staring at him, obviously waiting for Tony to go on, but he remains stubbornly silent, leaning back on his chair and folding his arms.

The scientist lowers his head and places both of his hands on the table. He takes a deep breath and glances up at Tony. "Do you really want me to say it out loud? You exactly know, Tony what's the right thing to do here."

The man tilts his head and gives Bruce a daring look.

No, he won't say it. Because that would make it real. Of course he knows what the right thing to do is. He fucking knows! He has known from the moment when he figured out Peter's situation. He knows what the most obvious solution would be.

But. He's Tony Stark. He doesn't do family. Or loving home. He grew up in a dysfunctional family, so what could he know about a loving one? He grew up with a messed up father, so how could he know how to ensure a happy childhood? He knows absolutely nothing about kids or family!

He gave Peter the only kind of protection he could provide: a high-tech suit. That's the only protection Tony is capable of. He might want to give him more, but God knows he can't. He just can't.

His earlier daring look turns into something like… resignation. He gives Bruce a sad smile.

"I offered the kid a place to crash. But like you said, he needs more than a bed and food. Kid deserves so much more than that. He has already lost too much. He's gone through things no one should at his age. And what he needs… stuff I can't give him."

Banner leans closer. "Tony, don't sell yourself short. I know you like to make people believe you're an arrogant jerk and frankly, yes, you are. But you're also a good man. And Peter trusts you."

"I'm not so sure about that," he snorts, trying not to sound hurt.

"Tony-" Bruce starts but he can't finish.

Friday's voice breaks into their conversation.

"Sorry to interrupt, boss, but I was instructed to follow Spiderman's activity on the Internet. There's a post claiming he's in Manhattan."

"Here? What is he doing here?" Tony asks, furrowing his brow. "Is he coming here?"

That would be an interesting timing to say the least.

"Based on the posted photos, he didn't come anywhere near, boss. He was heading south from the Tower."

"What the hell is he doing now?" Tony shudders. The he quickly gets up and pats Bruce's shoulder on his way out of the kitchen. "Nice talk, buddy. Raincheck? I have a spider to catch up with."

Chapter Text

"Talk to me, Fri. What is the little spider up to this far from Queens?" Tony asks as soon as he enters his lab.

He immediately regrets that he didn't do anything when he discovered Peter had disabled the tracker in his suit. What did he do then? Right, he laughed. He just fucking laughed and he was absolutely okay with the fact that he didn't know where Peter was. He would love to go back to Bruce now and throw this shameful fact into his face, proving how ridiculous is what he implied. He is the least suitable person to take care of this kid.

But right now he has bigger problems. The photos the AI mentioned appear on a big screen in the middle of the room. Next to them, he can see the exact location of the photos on a map. On another screen, the route Friday has predicted based on the photos. Peter clearly had no intention to come to the Tower.

"Call him," Tony orders. Unsurprisingly, Peter's phone is off. Tony has a bad feeling about this. He can feel it in his stomach. "Don't stop calling, Fri."

The man starts pacing up and down in front of the screens.

"Where is he now? Find him, girl. Check every camera available. ATMs, security cameras, everything. Social media. You know the drill."

He hops onto a stool and runs his hands through his hair, impatiently waiting for the results.

And out of the sudden, there he is. Spiderman is on the roof of some kind of office building. Friday has found a red and blue blur on a security camera feed and as she zooms in, it's clear that it's the superhero they have been looking for.

"Good girl," Tony praises her AI absentmindedly, then gets up and walks closer to the screen, trying to find out what Spiderman is up to. The superhero is not moving, he's just staring at something or someone across the street.

"It looks like he's on a stakeout or something. Where is he exactly, Friday? And what is he looking at?"

This time the AI shows the feed of an ATM that gives a fuzzy, black and white footage of the other side of the street. It's a restaurant. A new, popular one, Tony was there with Pepper a few days ago. Their steak is to die for.

"He must be after someone in the restaurant," the man states. "Can you tell me who is there right now?"

Without a word, Friday connects to the cameras inside the restaurant and runs facial recognition on every guest. Even on the waiters. Instantly, a list appears in front of Tony. The guests are mostly CEOs and CFOs, celebrities and socialites.

"Is there any connection between any of them and Peter?" he frowns. "These are not the kind of people he meets at school. Or in Queens."

"No connection I can detect, boss," Friday admits.

In the next minute, there's movement on the ledge where Spiderman is staying. He slowly launches to his feet. Tony's gaze flickers back to the other screen showing the restaurant. A man gets up from one of the tables and says goodbye to the people he had dinner with.

"Who's that guy, Fri?"

"It's Hal Wentworth, CFO of Wentworth Enterprises. Son of Carlisle Wentworth."

Tony has heard of the company. The CEO, Carlisle Wentworth is a selfish dick; Tony bumped into him at several parties and has never been a fan of the guy and his ego that might be even bigger than Tony's own. Tony might have even met his son but he can't recall it.

"What does he have to do with Peter? What can you find on this guy? Anything illegal? Check the police database."

Probably, this whole thing is about Spiderman and not about Peter. Maybe it's about some kind of criminal activity that Spiderman has stumbled upon while patrolling. Why did Tony ever think it was about Peter? Stupid instincts.

"There's only one police file I could find, boss, it's a report on Mr. Wentworth's stolen car."

Car theft. It is a Spiderman thing.

"Care to elaborate?" Tony sulks.

The AI remains silent. Strange.

"Friday?" Tony quirks an eyebrow.

"Boss, I have just found out that this was the car that hit May Parker. It had been reported stolen the day before."

Tony sighs. There goes his theory about Spiderman outsourcing his crime fighting business into Manhattan. It's about Peter Parker after all. But what does the kid want from the owner of that car if it was stolen before the hit? Hal Wentworth has nothing to do with that tragedy. And most of all: how does Peter know about all this?

Is it possible that Peter has access to police files, too? Like to the report that states what car hit his aunt and the one that confirmed the car stolen?

"I'm afraid I have no answer to that, boss," Fridays says regretfully and Tony realizes he must have phrased his questions loud.

He absentmindedly starts pacing again. "I know kid's good, practically a wunderkind, he hacked his suit after all. But could he hack into police files, too? Like at school?"

Friday doesn't answer this time, but Tony doesn't even expect her to. It was a rhetorical question. He's just thinking loud.

But then the AI does speak up.

"I may have a theory, sir, let me check."

Tony comes to an immediate halt. "Don't keep me hanging, dear."

"You mentioned hacking the suit, boss. Peter disabled the tracker. I checked what else he could have modified. And I have noticed that he found and enabled the AI you had planted in his suit."

Tony freezes. "He did what?!"

"Peter enabled the AI and named her Karen. I already contacted her and she confirmed that Peter had her pull up the police files in question."

"Gosh, this kid is gonna be the death of me!" Tony yells and knocks both of his fists to his forehead. "Seriously, what is wrong with him? I make him an awesome suit that every superhero in the galaxy would die for and he keeps meddling with it! Disabling this, enabling that… Little brat."

"I'm sorry to interrupt your grumbling, boss, but it's quite terrifying what Karen found and told Peter," Friday says.

Tony considers scolding or at least teasing the AI for calling his rant grumbling but he quickly decides that they have more urgent matters now.

"What did Karen find?" he asks tiredly. The name of Peter's AI still feels strange on his lips and he makes a mental note to ask the kid about it later.

"She detected that the police report on the car theft had been tampered with. The car was not stolen the day before the hit."

"Which means Hal Wentworth was probably the driver who hit May Parker and he got rid of the car later," Tony says taken aback.

That's the reason why Peter went after the guy. The realization makes Tony's stomach swoop.

"Friday, reach out to the kid through Karen," he instructs.

"I'm sorry, sir, Peter has muted Karen, she can't get through to him anymore," the AI says.

Tony curses. He seriously needs to get back the control over the Spider suit.

But not now. Definitely not now. Because there's movement again: Wentworth gets into his car and Peter starts to follow him swinging over the streets and they both disappear from the screens in front of Tony.

Without hesitation, he summons his suit.

~

While Tony is doing his best to fly to the scene as fast as possible, he also orders Friday to use whatever feed she can find to observe Peter and Wentworth. The AI informs him that after a short ride, Peter stopped the guy in a relatively quiet side street. Friday finds an ATM again and a blurry feed comes up in the corner of Tony's display.

He can see Spiderman on the top of the green sports car, then jumping to the ground and ripping the door off.

"No, no, no," he mutters, as Spiderman reaches into the car and practically yanks Wentworth out, holding a tight grip on the guy's neck. He slams him into the car's side, still gripping his neck hard. "Don't do it, don't do it, Peter, please, don't do it," Tony all but begs silently, urging his suit to fly even faster. "Don't do anything stupid, kid."

And in the meantime, he knows if he was in Peter's shoes, he would strangle that bastard to death. Without any hesitation. He would let his fury take over and would kill the guy. And he wouldn't even feel guilty about it. Because that dick would deserve it, right? Killing someone, then running away and going on with his life like nothing happened? Asshole deserves to die.

And that jerk might not even know who he killed. That he took away the only family of an innocent child, took everything from him and turned his life into hell. He ended one life and ruined another. While he's having the time of his life here in Manhattan with sports cars and dinners in expensive restaurants, that poor, lonely kid is shivering and starving on the streets. Son of a bitch so deserves to die.

But. Killing him wouldn't take away Peter's pain. Wouldn't bring back his aunt. It would scar him for life, though. That good kid with his adorable ramblings, perfect manners, sweet shyness. This would break him. Haunt him for life. He would feel good like for a short moment, would feel that he has served justice but then? He would feel the guilt engulfing him and he couldn't shake it off anymore. It would consume him, swallow him whole.

Tony glances back at the footage. Wentworth is speaking. He must be begging for his miserable life.

"Friday, I know there's no sound, but could you use your amazing lip-reading skills that I provided you a few months ago? Now it'd be a really good time to try it out in action."

Friday immediately interprets the conversation.

"Do you know why I am here?" Spiderman asks. Tony can only imagine all the intense emotions in those words hearing only Friday's neutral voice.

Wentworth shakes his head but can's stop fidgeting under the strong grip around his neck. Tony knows it's in vain. Spiderman is way too strong for the man to get out of the hold. The superhero just needs to press a little harder and Wentworth's a dead man.

Spiderman leans closer and tightens his grip a bit, too. "May Parker."

Tony can see Wentworth going still under Spiderman's hold. So he does know the name. He does remember.

"You killed her," Spiderman states simply.

"I… I…" Wentworth all but stutters miserably. Obviously he has no excuse.

"You killed her and drove off never looking back. You killed her and orphaned a kid."

"I'm… I'm sorry… I didn't know," Wentworth stammers.

Honestly, Tony expects Spiderman to let the bastard go. He just wants to scare him. He's a nice kid with a good heart. He's not a killer. He wants justice not blood. At least, that's what Tony hopes for. He knows the kid could snap the guy's neck any moment but he wants him to make a good decision. For his own sake, not for Wentworth's of course. Tony might kill him himself when Spiderman lets him off the hook.

"I'm sorry, I do whatever you want, just don't kill me, please," Wentworth keeps begging.

"What? You wanna pay me off, too, like you did with the police?" Spiderman asks.

"No, no! That was my father's doing!" Wentworth vehemently protests.

"But you went along with it," Spiderman points out.

"Please, just don't kill me. I know I don't deserve it, I know what I did was wrong and trust me there's no day when I don't think about it. I'm sorry. I do whatever you want, please."

Tony rolls his eyes. Asshole would probably swear to anything just to get out of this. Pathetic prick.

For a long minute, Spiderman is not doing anything. Wentworth is staring at him with wide, pleading eyes like a convict waiting for the verdict.

And the verdict arrives.

"You're going to the closest police station to give yourself up. Tell everything about your father's bribery. Give them all the names. Right now. If I don't see it in the news tomorrow, everyone taking responsibility for all the shit you did, I'll find you. And next time I won't be this nice, trust me."

Wentworth can's stop nodding in agreement. "Of course, of course. Thank you."

Of course Spiderman has decided to give in to the pitiful begging and lets the bastard go. Of course he has decided not to kill him after all. Of course he could stop himself from giving in to rightful revenge and bloodthirst. Because Peter is so much better than Tony.

Tony sighs relieved. He's at the scene now and he can see Spiderman suddenly releasing Wentworth and the guy falls back against the side of his car. He is obviously at the verge of a panic attack, but the superhero doesn't seem understanding.

"Go," he repeats his order quietly but intimidatingly and stares at the man sternly until he collects himself and runs off.

Wentworth is so scared that he doesn't mind leaving his car behind in the middle of the street.

Spiderman waits until the guy disappears around the corner and then drops to the ground gasping. He's shaking all over.

Tony quickly flies to him and lands beside the car smoothly. Spiderman yanks off his mask and his wide eyes shoot up at Tony as the Iron suit opens and the man steps out.

Tears fill Peter's eyes. The fierce, threatening superhero is gone and only the hurt, lonely kid stays behind, broken on the cold ground. "Mr. Stark… he killed May…" he sobs.

Tony doesn't hesitate to drop to his knees beside the boy and pulls him into his arms. He envelops him in a tight hug and rubs soothing circles on his back, while the kid is weeping uncontrollably. "It's her birthday… she's… she's supposed to… be here… but he… killed her… and ran off… I… I wanted to… kill him… but I saw May then… and I knew… she wouldn't… she wouldn't want that… but I wanted, Mr. Stark… I… I wanted to kill him so badly," Peter explains through his sobs.

"It's okay, Pete," Tony whispers into the kid's ear. "You made the right decision. That's the only thing that matters. It's okay now."

Peter doesn't answer. He can't stop crying, desperately clutching Tony's shirt as if his life depends on it. Tony gently rocks him, whispering comforting words and waits patiently until the painful sobs fade into silent tears.

Then Peter pulls back with his head hanging low. "Mr. Stark, I'm-"

"Come on, kid," the man cuts him off and launches to his feet.

He knows the kid feels ashamed now and wants to apologize for his breakdown, but he won't allow that. Kid has absolutely nothing to apologize for. So Tony carefully pulls him to his feet and puts an arm around his shoulders. "Let's go home, alright?"

The man waits until teary, red-rimmed eyes look up at him and Peter gives a tiny, hesitant nod. Tony lets out a breath he doesn't remember holding, surprising himself how relieved he feels that the kid has finally agreed to return to the Tower.

Chapter Text

The next morning Tony settles by his kitchen table with steaming coffee and a tablet to watch the news. He swears if that damned Hal Wentworth didn't obey Peter, he'll personally drag the bastard to a police station to give a statement. That or he'll kill the guy. That's still an option that he finds quite hard to resist. Asshole would deserve serious punishment for the hit and run. Probably life sentence. But for all the pain and suffering he caused to Peter? Hell, he deserves to die! Slowly and painfully.

Throughout the night, Tony was extremely close to getting his suit and going to kill Wentworth. He got up to summon his suit like four times. But he always changed his mind when he remembered Peter's decision. The boy showed mercy to that dumbass and Tony has to respect that.

Fortunately, Peter's choice has turned out to be the right one. The news anchor announces that Hal Wentworth confessed the hit and run and also told about his father's involvement in the case. He even named a few police officers who helped them cover up the events.

Now all Tony needs to do is to stay out of this and not to pay the guy a visit in prison to make his life a little less nice. But he knows if Peter could spare the jerk's life, then he should do that, too. At least, he should try.

He turns off the tablet and glances at the clock on the wall. It's 11.20am. Kid could wake up anytime now. Or not, God knows he needs his sleep. Last night he insisted that he wasn't too tired to swing a few blocks to the Tower, but Tony took care to stay close enough in case he needed to catch him. Kid was drained when they got home.

When they finally landed on the rooftop, Peter's eyes were only half-open, so Tony put a hand on his shoulder to guide him to the guest room. The kid automatically flinched under the touch.

"S-sorry," he whispered, lowering his head in embarrassment.

Tony tried no to imagine what horrors could have happened to Peter that generated this involuntary response. Kid needed to sleep. That was the priority. He would have plenty of time to mull over this later.

"You can sleep in the guest room tonight," he said and went ahead to the elevator. From the corner of his eye, he could see Peter - even though he was half asleep - turning his head up and down, observing every little detail during their short walk. Yeah, when the boy had been here previously, he had spent all of his time in the med bay. This part of the building was new to him.

"Welcome back, Peter", Friday greeted him, once they reached Tony's living area.

"Hello, Friday," the kid answered, smiling at the ceiling.

"This is it," Tony opened the door to the guest room. "There's a small bathroom over there. And my room is the second door on the right, in case you need anything. But you can always ask Friday, too."

Peter nodded and stepped into the room, taking a good look around. It was not much; it mostly looked like a hotel room. Just basic furniture, nothing personal. Hardly anyone ever used this room. The Avengers had their own living quarters, Pepper stayed with Tony when she came over and he didn't really have anyone else to drop in.

Peter's eyes finally found the big bed in the middle and he immediately yawned.

"It's really late now," Tony smiled. "You should sleep. Unless you're hungry?"

The boy shook his head. The man wasn't surprised. After the entire emotional trauma earlier, he wouldn't have been hungry, either.

"Okay. But I guess you don't want to sleep in your suit, right?" Tony asked and without waiting for a response, he left. He grabbed some spare clothes from his own room, a shirt and sweatpants and returned to the kid. "These should do for now," he said, giving the clothes to Peter.

"Thank you, Mr. Stark," the kid muttered.

As Peter reached for the clothes, Tony noticed the suit was practically torn to rags over the kid's hands. There might have been blood, too but the suit was too dark to spot any. The man frowned. He couldn't recall any fight earlier that night that could have resulted in injuries like these.

"What happened to your hands, kid?" He got straight to the point like always.

Peter stared down at his hands as if he saw the wounds for the first time, too. Tony couldn't blame him; kid had other priorities after all.

"Okay, go get changed, then we take care of it," he suggested, deciding not to push it.

Peter was still looking so dazed that the man didn't think he would get an explanation from him. Not that he needed one. The injuries seemed familiar. Tony also had a bad habit of punching walls in frustration and God knows kid went through a huge amount of frustration tonight. The news he had stumbled upon probably pushed him over the edge. Absolutely understandable.

He left the room to give the kid some privacy.

"Friday, should I expect any more injuries?" he asked wearily as he walked into the kitchen for his two hundredth coffee refill that day.

"No, boss. Peter is terribly exhausted, that's all. But when you clean the wounds on his hands, you'll probably find some glass shards that need to be removed. Karen informed me that Peter had broken a window and punched the wall."

"Wonderful," the man grimaced. "Could this get any better?"

But no. He had no right to be sarcastic. It was really wonderful. All that shit with Wentworth was over, Peter was here at the Tower and he was safe. Bruised knuckles? Geez, it could be so much worse!

He drank up his coffee, grabbed the medical kit and returned to Peter.

The kid was sitting on the bed, wearing the way too big clothes, shoulders slumped, head lowered. He didn't even look up when Tony entered. The man wouldn't have been surprised to find the boy already asleep. He settled on the bed next to Peter, placing the kit between them. He reached out for the kid's hands and he obeyed.

"Friday, more light, please," Tony asked, examining the wounds. He started to clean the injuries.

They were sitting there in silence, while he was working. Tony tried his best to work as fast as he could, he didn't want to keep the kid from sleeping longer than necessary. He guessed it took a lot of effort from Peter to stay awake during the process.

"Thank you, Mr. Stark," the kid finally said and the short sentence turned into a yawn.

Tony nodded and continued working. He carefully removed some small shards, cleaned and bandaged the wounds.

"Here you go," he announced when he finally finished.

When he didn't get any response, he glanced over at the boy. Peter's head was propped on his hand that Tony had attended to first and he was already out like a light. The man smiled, wondering how the boy was able to sleep in such an uncomfortable position. But given how exhausted he must have been, it shouldn't have been surprising at all.

On the other hand, it was a bit surprising that the kid didn't wake up when Tony maneuvered him into a lying position and draped a blanket over him. Before he could have stopped himself, he ran a hand through the kid's messy curls.

"Sleep tight, buddy," he whispered.

"Good night, May," Peter answered in sleep.

Tony's stomach crunched and the fond smile disappeared from his face right away.

When he closed the door behind him, he asked Friday to keep an eye on Peter and went straight to bed.

He slept really, really well, better than ever. Why? Maybe because for the first time since he had met a certain spider, he knew the kid was safe?

In the morning, on his way to the kitchen to brew his first coffee, he stopped in front of the door of the guest room. It was all silent in there. He hoped that the kid hadn't left without saying goodbye, but he knew that was a very real possibility. Then again, Friday would have alerted him.

He carefully opened the door a little and peeped in. The room was dark and in the middle of the bed there was a pile of blankets and a mop of brown curls lolling out from under the heap. Tony smiled relieved.

And here he is now in the kitchen, finishing his coffee and wondering what he should offer the kid for breakfast. If the boy sleeps longer though, Tony should probably start thinking about lunch options.

But now breakfast. Right. Coffee is definitely out of question. Tony rummages through the cupboards, until his eyes find something interesting on a top shelf. A waffle maker. A Christmas gift from Pepper. Tony has always planned to turn this simple and boring thing into something mind-blowing like a portable rocket launcher or something like that.

But now it's more important to provide quality breakfast for the kid. So he instructs Friday to search for a foolproof waffle recipe and grabs the ingredients to whip up the batter. He is quite surprised that he actually does have every ingredient in his kitchen.

He chuckles when he realizes how hilarious it is that Tony Stark, aka Iron Man, genius engineer and billionaire owner of SI is on his way to turn into a domestic goddess just to make breakfast for a kid who he accidentally met a few weeks ago. If he can call it an accident. He decided to go after Spiderman after all. He just wasn't prepared for the answer he found under the Spider mask.

Peter Parker, 15-year old prodigy, nerd, superhero and kind soul.

When the boy entered Tony's life, he changed it for good. Tony just didn't want to understand it first. Didn't want to accept it. He's not good with kids, caring or emotions in general. He's irresponsible, reckless, selfish, unpredictable and arrogant. Barton once called him a drama queen and he wasn't wrong.

If anyone had ever asked him if he wanted a kid in his life, he would have said no. Never. Yet, no one asked. Peter just kinda showed up in his world without a warning.

And ever since Tony found out the kid was not only a superhero – which is quite a dangerous job for an adult, too -, but he was also a lonely kid without family or home, he couldn't rest. He couldn't stop worrying, thinking about the kid. Where is he now? Is he in danger? Is he hungry? Is he cold? Is he lonely and sad?

Tony first decided it was not his business. The kid made a decision, and even though the man didn't really think it was the right one, he tried to respect it and let the kid live the life he had chosen for himself. That was the fair thing to do, right?

But Tony just couldn't stop worrying. So he offered him his help and invited him to the Tower. And when the kid didn't take the offer, he made him a suit. He thought he did everything he could; he did his best to take care of Peter. Who could expect more of him?

But it's not like that. He helped Spiderman. And just like Iron Man couldn't be separated from Tony Stark, Spiderman couldn't be separated from Peter Parker either. It's not enough to help only one of them. And Tony can't pretend he doesn't care. He can't pretend it's enough to help Spiderman, like superhero to superhero.

No. It's not enough. He cares about Peter. He can't stop caring about the kid. And truth is? He doesn't want to stop.

Yes, it may sound ridiculous and the other Avengers would definitely tease him about it. Hell, he doesn't understand himself, either, like what the fuck is happening to him? Is he under some kind of spell or what?

But he just can't let the kid go back to the streets, back to his fucking warehouse! Peter's here, safe and sound in the Tower and Tony hasn't felt better for a long time. Not since he first met the kid. Finally, things are like they should be.

Like they should have been a long time ago. Because Tony was an ass for a long time, he lied to himself that he didn't care that much and Peter was just fine without him. And because of him, the kid had to stay alone on the streets longer than he should have. Out in the cold. Going hungry God knows how often. And going after his aunt's murderer, nearly killing him. Hell, if Peter had strangled Wentworth to death that would have been on Tony. Because he wasn't there for the kid.

But from now on, it'll be different.

Yes, he will be awful at this, awful at taking care of Peter but at least he will try his best. The kid would probably deserve someone much better in his corner, but Tony will try. He really will. He just needs Peter to accept his help. And geez, that's not gonna be easy! The kid has never taken Tony's offer to drop in the Tower. He has never come to ask for help with the suit, to ask for repairs or to suggest upgrades. Maybe he didn't think Tony was serious when he talked about helping him. But he will prove to the kid how serious he is. Hell, here he is making damned waffles, is there any more proof necessary?

Just as Tony places the last waffle on the top of a big pile, Peter emerges from his room. With his hair stuck up in all directions and eyes only half-open, he is slowly approaching the kitchen. Tony's first thought is that the kid is in serious need of a haircut. And second, the boy is practically skin and bones. Obviously, Tony's clothes don't do him justice, but the oversized clothes are probably not the only reason why the kid looks like a scarecrow. Tony seriously considers whipping up a second batch of waffles. He makes a mental note to ask Friday later to make a list of nutritious food that he could feed Peter with.

"Good morning, sunshine," Tony greets him, forcing himself to smile before the kid could see the concern on his face. He briefly wonders if it ever stops. The worrying. He thought if he knew Peter's safe, it would be gone. But it seems like the concern is here to stay for good. Fantastic. "I hope you're hungry," he says, pushing the plate full of waffles toward Peter, who hesitantly takes a seat, eyeing Tony with suspicion.

"Thank you," the kid says, though it sounds more like a question.

Peter gets suspicious when someone makes him food. Great. Of course, Tony understands the kid's distrust. It's not like he's got much help in the last few months.

Well, it's time to change that.

"Come on, eat up," Tony gestures at the plate and then grabs some berries from the refrigerator. When he turns back to Peter to offer him the fruit too, he's happy to see the boy is demolishing the waffles at an incredible speed. He suppresses the urge to tell him to slow down. Because then he would sound like a parent, right?

Tony pours himself some more coffee and settles at the table. "Blueberries, too, kid, don't forget about the vitamins," he says and immediately winces. There goes his plan no to sound like a parent.

Peter's eyes shoot up at him and he furrows his brow. There it is. The suspicion in his eyes again. And confusion. He obviously doesn't know what to do with the sudden care.

Tony decides to change the subject. "Previously on Spiderman Rules the World: Wentworth took your advice. He's going down along with his father and some corrupt police officers."

The kid simply nods and continues eating with a blank face. As if he has absolutely nothing to do with this. The intimidating superhero from last night is nowhere to be seen. This is just the poor boy who lost his family. Justice has been served, but Peter's pain is here to stay for now. The memory of the heartbroken, sobbing kid is still fresh in Tony's mind; it's an image he will probably never forget.

Okay. Time to change the subject again.

Tony leans forward and takes a deep breath. "Kid, we need to talk," he states, looking into Peter's eyes.

And those big brown eyes suddenly grow even bigger in fear. "Mr. Stark, I'm really sorry but I have school and I have some tests and homework…" he starts gabbling.

The man leans back and rolls his eyes. Here we go. Not the first time that the kid tries to avoid an uncomfortable conversation like this. Deflecting.

"We have this huge Spanish test coming up, like really huge and I can't miss that," Peter goes on. "And then Chemistry… I need to get to the school lab because I have almost run out of web fluid and I really need to make more. Like a whole lot more... And I also need to catch up with my friend, Ned. His dad has some health issues and Ned's freaking out and I just need to talk to him, be there for him, you know… And have I mentioned decathlon practice? Team's behind, Mr. Stark, we need to squeeze in some extra practices-"

"Are you done?" Tony asks unimpressed.

Peter opens his mouth but not a word comes out.

The man sighs. "Listen, kid, first of all, have you checked the time? School is not an option today, buddy. So you can't use that as an excuse not to talk to me."

The boy glances at the clock on the wall and his shoulders drop.

"Don't worry, your lovely made-up Aunt Julia saved you again," Tony shrugs.

"Friday?" the kid narrows his eyes.

"This time she was more helpful," the man snorts.

"You needed to sleep, Peter," the AI interjects.

"Thanks, I guess," the boy mutters, looking up at the ceiling.

"Anyway, here's the deal, kid," Tony starts, turning serious and placing both hands on the table. "You have absolutely no reason to be scared," he quickly adds, as Peter leans back as if trying to put more space between them. "I just want you to stay here. At the Tower… for a few days."

He so badly wants to say forever but seeing how terrified the kid already is, he just doesn't want to overwhelm him. Saying a few days should be a good start. For both of them to get used to the new situation. They can work with a few days. Baby steps.

And when those few days are up, they will be so used to their new life that Peter's stay will be automatically extended for good. They won't even have to talk about it; it'll be evident, right? Well, at least that's the plan.

But Peter doesn't look up; he's still staring at his now empty plate.

Tony didn't exactly expect the kid to start jumping for joy hearing the proposal. But he didn't expect absolute silence either.

"You can stay in the guest room," he explains, trying to break the uncomfortable silence, fidgeting with his mug. "I know your school is not that close, but I have a driver who can take you or you could just swing over there. Driving would be more discreet, though," he laughs nervously.

But there's still nothing from Peter.

Okay, this silence is getting more and more awkward.

"Kid?" Tony asks impatiently. And desperately.

Peter finally looks up at him. The only emotion that his eyes give away is confusion. "Can I… think about it, Mr. Stark?"

Tony staggers back in shock. Think about it? What is there to think about? He has just offered the kid a room in his penthouse; it is surely better than the empty warehouse that he currently stays in. And the room would come with regular food, of course. Should have he mentioned that, too? Wasn't that obvious? Geez, were those damned waffles that bad?

He wants to say to Peter that no, he can't think about it. It is decided. Tony has already decided. Peter's a kid and Tony knows better. It wasn't really an offer, it was a statement. An announcement. Peter stays. Discussion is over.

But of course it's not what Tony says. He has to give the kid space. He has been all alone in the last few months; Tony can't just swing into his life, telling him what to do. He can't force the boy. Peter needs to let him in.

Anyway, who cares? Obviously, Peter will come to his senses and realize Tony's guest room is far better than his abandoned building. And real food. Sleeping in a bed and eating enough food should be irresistible enough. And when you're a superhero by night, it's kinda convenient that you can stay with another superhero, right? Peter will understand this. Tony just needs to let him come to this conclusion by himself.

"Alright, kid, think about it."

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Half a minute later Spiderman is out in the parking lot where the giant creature is still having fun tossing cars and school buses.

"Hey big guy," Spiderman greets the beast, casually sitting on a lamppost. "Why don't we take this game somewhere else? I can see you like cars. There's a much bigger parking lot just around the corner. Like huge. With tons of cool cars. And far from the school. What do you think, can we go?"

The monster turns to Spiderman, picks up a sports car and throws it at him. The superhero easily dodges the flying vehicle, shooting a web at a flagpole, swinging and landing behind the giant on the ground. The car crashes into the lamppost.

"Oops, dude, I think that was Flash's car. He'll be pissed," Spiderman complains.

The brute turns to him growling, hits its chest with both fists like a real gorilla and reaches for the superhero. Spiderman quickly jumps out of its way and hops up on the school fence. The animal launches after him, but he jumps further from its reach again. It leaps and he springs. Again and again. The creature is chasing the superhero like a toddler trying to catch a butterfly. And it doesn't notice that Spiderman is luring it further and further away from the school.

"Hey, Karen, can you hack into Oscorp to see what you can find about our fortunately not too smart new friend?" Spiderman asks his AI while jumping and swinging in front of the creature. He tries to lure it toward a less crowded part of the city, far from possible victims. He also tries to take in a few punches, but the monster doesn't even flinch. That comparison with the Hulk might have not been that farfetched.

Police cars follow them and he notices they have decided to keep a safe distance and expect him to deal with the threat. He really appreciates the trust, because that's what it is about, right? They trust him to handle it. It can't be that they don't know what to do with the freak.

Karen willingly pulls up a file on an animal experiment that went wrong. Similarly to the method that was used to create super soldiers like Captain America, Oscorp wanted to create super animals. Well, animals definitely think less than humans and obey without hesitation. Except when they break out of the lab and run amok in the city.

"Is it true that it's bulletproof?" Spiderman asks, successfully avoiding the gorilla's fingers trying to clench around him. He thinks now he really knows what poor flies must feel when people want to slap them.

"I'm afraid it has an unusually thick skin, yes," Karen informs him.

"Any suggestion for neutralizing this cute stuffed monkey? Besides calling Mr. Stark, obviously," he quickly adds knowing his AI. Because of course he can handle this on his own. Then before Karen could response, he has an idea. "What if it fell from a big height? Like from a top of a really tall building? Would it survive? Or could the fall break its leg at least, so it couldn't run rampant anymore?"

"That might work, Peter," Karen answers after some consideration.

"Great, show me the route to the nearest building that could be tall enough. And not full of people, if possible."

"There is an old office building three blocks from here. It is now empty and going to be torn down in two days."

"Exactly what we need, awesome, Karen," Spiderman cheers landing on the ground and flipping between the creature's legs trying to confuse it.

But the move makes the animal even angrier and with a deafening roar, it quickly grabs Spiderman and throws him at a firewall. Something cracks. He falls to the ground.

"Whoops, that was a rib. Or two," Spiderman mumbles clutching his side. "Okay, it's official: its favorite game is throwing things. Or people."

"Peter, are you alright?" Karen asks concerned.

Not that much but he really doesn't have time for that now. Because the monster leaps forward and he needs to shoot a web to swing out of its way.

"May I suggest calling Mr. Stark now?" the AI tries.

"Less talking, Karen and more fighting," Spiderman replies, dodging the monster's hands a few more times. "Which way?"

Karen shows him the route to the building that she found and continuing the weird tag, they soon arrive. The building has at least sixty floors and it seems abandoned.

"Are you sure it's empty?" Spiderman asks.

"Yes, Peter, it's been empty for a year now."

"Let's go in then."

Spiderman quickly swings toward the entrance. He believes the doors, corridors and stairways in the building won't be big enough for the gorilla, but he guesses it'll just break its way through the walls.

He turns out to be right. No wall can be thick enough for the monster to break through to try to catch Spiderman. It is chasing the superhero with growing fury. Those earsplitting growls just never stop and now they're accompanied by the sound of crashing walls and shattering glass.

"Up, up, up," Spiderman encourages himself, hurrying to the roof.

It should be easy, but there are bricks, pieces of glass and tons of debris flying around him as his pursuer follows him frantically, destroying practically everything in its way. Some pieces hit or cut him, but he really doesn't care, he can't stop now, he has to go. As high as he can. So he ignores Karen's concerned announcements adding more and more items to the list of cuts and bruises and forces his way up the floors.

"Which floor?" he manages.

"We're currently on floor 55," the AI answers.

Nearly there. Then a huge glass wall shatters right beside him, when the creature breaks through it and a big shard implants itself into Spiderman's left bicep. He makes a mistake: he stops for a moment to pull it out. He hisses in pain as he yanks out the shard and quickly patches up the cut with some webbing. This should do for now.

But the tiny break gives the giant a perfect opportunity to gain upon him and in the next moment, Spiderman feels strong fingers clenching around him. He desperately tries to break free and he can actually feel the grip loosening, but before he could get out of the grasp, the creature tosses him again. This time down through a hole in the floors.

Spiderman tries to shoot a web to break his fall, but it's too late and he lands on his left side. Hard. He can hear several of his bones breaking. He slowly rolls onto his back with a groan and glances up at the gorilla through the hole. He fell down at least four floors. Wow. That was a big hole.

Okay, now is really not the time to mull over it. It's time to get up and go.

But when he tries to pull himself up, hot white pain flares up in his left leg and arm, in protest against the movement. Plus, he can feel some pulsing pain on the left side of his head. He carefully touches his temple, and then examines his fingers when he draws them back. There's blood on his fingertips. Great.

"What the-"

"Peter, I am sorry to inform you that your left leg and wrist broke from the impact. Also, two of your ribs cracked and three of them bruised. I can detect a mild concussion, too," Karen explains with sorrow audible in her voice.

Above him, the beast bangs its chest again in victory and roars furiously.

"I guess a time-out is not an option now," Spiderman murmurs.

Gritting his teeth, he raises his right arm, shoots a web at the ceiling above the crazy creature and hoists himself up all the four floors. The animal watches confused as Spiderman awkwardly lands on the ground on the other side of the big hole. He quickly shoots another web at a wall to keep himself steady while balancing on one leg.

It's gonna be even more difficult than he thought. He can't use his left arm, so he has to work with only one web shooter. And he might need more webs, because swinging and hoisting or simply keeping his balance is much harder now with his injuries. But the plan is the same. Luring the monster to the top floor and shoving it down to its fate. And most of all, using the adrenaline and ignoring the pain.

He makes eye contact with the wild animal. "Come on, Kong, catch me if you can!"

Spiderman continues the tag and hurries toward the roof. He shoots plenty of webs at incredible speed and swings all along the remaining floors, without letting his left foot touch the ground. Whenever he forgets about his injuries during the pursuit and he involuntarily puts weight on his left leg or instinctively tries to raise his left hand to shoot a web, the pain flares up and he winces. Sometimes even screams. It doesn't matter; no one hears it, right? He just needs to think twice before moving and ignore the pain all over his left side. And the pounding headache. All that while running away from a huge, angry monkey. Easy.

Fortunately, a few minutes later he reaches the roof and he can hear that his pursuer is not far behind. He looks around, waggling clumsily on one leg, planning his next move. He shoots a web at a tall antenna and launches himself onto the ledge. The animal finally shows up on the roof with big, bloodshot eyes looking for the superhero.

"I'm right here, big guy!" Spiderman shouts and waves. "Dude, you cornered me! Damn, I've got nowhere to run from here. You're so gonna win."

The brute rumbles and starts running toward him. Spiderman patiently waits, stumbling on the ledge. Before he could stop himself, he glances down. Oh, the ground is really far from here.

He can hear the now familiar growling getting closer and he looks up just in time to see the gorilla leaping at him.

He shoots a web at the antenna again and swings out of the way of the creature in the very last moment. He can see the exact second in the beast's eyes when it realizes it's too late to correct its move.

Spiderman looks away, focusing on landing on the ground smoothly, sparing his injured leg. He slides down to the ground, leaning back against the pole behind him. He yanks off his mask and tiredly stares at the spot where the monster must have disappeared over the ledge. Yeah, it was close.

As the fight is over, his injured limbs and head decide it's time to catch Peter's full attention now. He feels dizzy, drained and numb. And he can feel every break, hit, cut and bruise flaring up with newfound intensity, as if they're competing who can cause him more pain.

But it's okay. Because dark spots edge his vision now and as the spots slowly become bigger and bigger, the blackness becomes more and more inviting, offering him an escape from all the pain.

He closes his eyes feeling utterly exhausted. "Karen… now… maybe now… would be a good time to… to call Mr. Stark," he mutters before finally giving in to the darkness.

Chapter Text

A ray of warm sunshine wakes Tony up, gently stroking his face. He groans and rolls onto his other side. "Friday, windows," he mutters and the AI instantly darkens the room, shutting out all the natural light.

Tony went to bed like at 6am. Peter's abrupt leaving the day before left him shocked, worried and restless. So he decided to spend the rest of the day in the lab. That was always a good idea. Working there, trying to figure out science mysteries, upgrading his suit and inventing new toys always offered a perfect distraction from his personal issues.

But not yesterday. Because yesterday he couldn't really do anything. He just couldn't focus. He began something new every ten minutes. He tossed away a tool irritated every five minutes. He drank coffee after coffee, but not even that helped. He was exhausted and agitated at the same time.

All because of Peter.

And Tony still can't wrap his mind around it. How could the kid not jump on his offer? Tony might not be who the boy really needs or deserves, he's probably far from that, but even his sorry self and the Tower should be better than living on the streets and starving. Okay, the kid didn't want to go into foster care and Tony gets it, that might suck, but the streets, dammit? Would he rather sleep in his fucking warehouse than here? Is this really such a bad place? Is staying with Tony really such a horrible option that even the streets seem more inviting?

Fine, the kid didn't exactly reject his help, he asked for time. But what on earth could he think about? From Tony's point of view, it's simple. Tower or the streets. Is it really such a hard decision?

The man knows the kid has lived on the streets by himself for a few long months now and he's sure this is definitely not how Peter imagined his life would go. But he has coped with it. He's independent, tough and persistent. Damn, kid is so strong! He's a real superhero even without the suit. And truth is, he doesn't even know.

But a 15-year old kid shouldn't be like that. He shouldn't live by himself (let alone on the streets), he shouldn't starve, he shouldn't make serious decisions all by himself, he shouldn't be alone at all. Totally, utterly alone. His life turned into a mess when his aunt died, but now when he has the chance, he refuses to change it. It's not right. Peter's life is not the life he should live.

And yet he turned Tony down when he offered him a way out.

Why? Doesn't he believe he deserves it? But he deserves so much more! He would deserve a loving family and a place to stay that feels like home. And Tony can't guarantee any of that, he can offer much less, but Peter should accept at least that.

Last night Tony went though many stages. He tried to understand the kid's decision, tried to figure out the logic behind it, tried to pretend he didn't really care, tried not to get upset. Well, the last one wasn't really successful. Tony did get upset. He got angry. With the kid for not making the only reasonable choice and with himself for not being able to move on and live his life forgetting about Peter. How could have he gone to bed?

When dawn came, he decided to give it a try, though. But he just tossed around under the blankets; his sleep was anything but peaceful. The exact opposite of the previous night when Peter had been staying at the Tower.

But when Tony finally managed to fall asleep, that damned sunshine woke him up.

And now he can't go back to sleep. He's just lying in his bed staring at the ceiling, wondering what the kid might be up to. He glances at the clock. Right. Peter must be at school. Enjoying the only part of his day that has remained relatively the same in the last few months. At school he can be with his friends and do what he really should do: just being a kid.

"Boss, sorry to disturb you, but Karen is trying to contact you," Friday suddenly announces.

For a minute, Tony has no idea who Karen is. She must be important, though, otherwise Friday wouldn't tell him about her. His AI knows better than to inform him about any random caller. Then he remembers.

"Why isn't Peter calling me?" he lifts an eyebrow.

"Karen says Peter is injured and unconscious."

That makes Tony bolt out of his bed. "Elaborate, Friday, dammit!" he grumbles.

"According to Karen, there was a giant gorilla-"

The man comes to an immediate halt. "A what?" he asks staggered.

"There was a failed lab experiment at Oscorp, this gorilla-like monster escaped and ran amok in the city. Peter managed to stop it but got injured in the fight. He is on a rooftop-"

"Give me the coordinates!" Tony orders, immediately summoning his suit.

He can't help feeling mad at his AI, too. Why didn't she tell him earlier? This freak seems like a pretty big deal and the fight must have been all over the news. Yes, Friday knows Tony is usually sleep deprived, so she doesn't disturb him when he manages to fall asleep, unless it's an emergency. But this is an emergency! And he was more like trying to sleep, not actually sleeping.

Then he remembers Friday is his AI, he's the one who has programmed her, so there's only one person he can blame: himself. He seriously needs to reprogram Friday, so that she warns him when Peter's in danger, even when Tony is asleep.

But first, he needs to find Peter. While he's on his way to the scene, flying over buildings, Friday gives him a report on Peter's injuries. Broken bones, bruised ribs, cuts and bruises. Nothing seems life-threatening, but Tony still worries about the kid. A lot. He instructs Friday to call Bruce, so that the scientist can take care of the boy, as soon as they get back to the Tower.

So this is what the kid was up to. While Tony was lying in his bed, deep in his thoughts and guessed Peter was at school like an average kid, he was fighting some kind of beast. Friday shows him the footage from Peter's suit and he can see the battle was definitely not an easy one. Geez, that creature was bigger than the Hulk! And he tossed Peter around as if he was a freaking rag doll. The AI also informs him that the monster died when it fell from the top of the building where Peter was lying unconscious. But not before breaking the kid's leg and wrist. For that, Tony would love to bring the freak back to life and give it a torturous death.

Getting closer to the scene, he can see several police cars everywhere and more vehicles arriving. He ignores them, he has only one priority: finding the injured superhero.

As he lands on the rooftop and spots Peter leaning against a pole with his head hanging low, Tony's stomach once again swoops with nerves. This scene is way too familiar, he has a feeling of déjá vu and he hates it. Last time when he found Spiderman on a roof like this, the young superhero was about to bleed to death. Even though Tony knows this time his condition is less critical, he can't help worrying. Peter slumped to the ground with broken bones and unconscious is anything but normal.

He steps out of his suit, rushes to him and kneels down, squeezing the kid's shoulder, trying to rouse him. Friday told about the mild concussion and what if it got more severe?

"Kid, can you hear me? Open your eyes, Pete," he asks softly. "Please, kid."

There's a long moment of silence before anything happens, but then the boy stirs and raises his head; his big brown eyes slowly flutter open and find the man beside him. Although Tony doesn't like how unfocused those eyes look, he gives Peter a huge smile. He waits until realization hits the kid.

"M'st'r St'rk… wha-what are you… doin…here?" Peter rasps, looking up in confusion.

Really? Kid's down and he wonders what Tony is doing here. Concussion, right.

Peter looks around nervously and Tony doesn't know if the boy is trying to figure out what happened or searching for his dead opponent. The man gives Peter's shoulder another squeeze to gain his attention. "How are you feeling, kid?"

"I… Karen said... I… broke my leg… and wrist," the boy answers hesitantly, glancing down at his hands as if trying to figure out which one is hurt.

His behavior starts to freak out Tony, but he forces himself to look calm.

"Yeah, and you also have a concussion," he adds but doubts Peter comprehends it. "We should get back to the Tower, Bruce is waiting for us."

"Dr. Banner?" the boy's head snaps up. "Dr. Banner is there?"

Tony gets up, steps back into his suit and returns to the kid.

"Of course that gets your attention," he grins and carefully slides his arms under the kid's back and knees.

When he cautiously lifts him up, another memory hits him: how surprised he was when he did the same back then. When Spiderman was shot. Tony wondered how light the superhero was. Back then he didn't know there was a miserable kid under the mask. Now he knows and he can't help speculating if the kid had dinner last night. Damn, when they get back to the Tower, he'll force-feed him if he has to but he won't let him leave without gaining some weight.

Hell, he doubts he can ever let him leave at all.

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Tony is watching the kid eating his breakfast. Eggs, bacon and pancakes. During his playboy years, Tony became a pro at breakfast foods. Now that skill of his comes in handy with Peter living here. Kid needs proper breakfast, not black coffee, right?

Sitting at the kitchen table, Peter practically devours his food. Old habits die hard. Tony thinks it will take a long time until the kid slows down and actually starts enjoying food. Until he realizes he doesn't have to eat fast, because there'll be always enough food.

Peter's backpack is at his feet on the floor. He's ready to go back to school.

Tony is watching him smiling, his hands clasping a coffee mug as always. This is his new normal, their new normal, he thinks to himself. From now on, every day will begin like this. Having breakfast, Peter going to school. Almost like a normal family, right? Tony is still having a hard time believing how much his life has changed in a few days. This kid has brought things into his life he never wanted: responsibility, stability and normality. Things that Tony needs to provide for the kid. He feels like Peter has made him grow up all of a sudden. And weird is, he doesn't really mind. It scares him, yes, but he wouldn't want it any other way.

"Boss, Happy Hogan is on his way up here," Friday reveals.

Peter looks up from his plate and his eyes shoot up at Tony. He looks confused and maybe a bit scared, too.

"Relax, kid," Tony assures him.

He knows Peter doesn't really like changes, he said that himself. Plus, Barton told Tony kids needed stability in general and he knows Peter is kinda allergic to changes. Not that he could blame him, change has equaled tragedy and loss in his short life.

And an unknown person showing up unexpectedly is definitely a minor thing compared to the other changes in the kid's life, but it's still a change Peter is apparently not enthusiastic about.

Tony frowns because he knows Happy's usual grumpiness won't help either.

The elevator doors open and their guest steps out. He starts walking towards them, but as soon as he spots Peter, he comes to an abrupt halt.

"Who's this?" he asks, pointing at the kid.

"And good morning to you, too, Happy," Tony shakes his head, offering coffee to the man. "He's Peter. He's staying with me and he needs a ride to school."

Both Happy and Peter stare at him in shock.

"I'm not a babysitter!" Happy protests.

"I don't need a ride!" Peter complains.

Tony sighs. "Okay, everybody calm down. Peter, Happy here is my driver. It's literally his job to give you a ride if I tell him so."

Obviously, Peter doesn't like this, though. "But Mr. Stark, don't you think it's too much if a driver takes me to school? It will look so weird."

Tony leans closer to the boy. "Weirder than swinging there with your webs?" he whispers, so that Happy can't hear him.

"I can take the subway," Peter suggests.

"Yeah, like I would allow that," Tony snorts and turns to his driver. "Happy, how many cars do I have in the garage?"

"Thirty-six," the man grumbles.

"See? I can definitely let Happy take one of them and give you a ride to school."

"It's not that," Peter lowers his head. "I just… don't want to… raise attention."

Tony smiles. This kid is unbelievable. When Tony was at his age, he loved arriving at school with a flashy, expensive car, he loved when the other kids watched him with their jaws dropped as he got out and walked up to the building. He enjoyed attention. And how ironic it is that he's stuck with a boy who is exactly the opposite: he wants to avoid attention. Tony has no doubt who's the better person out of the two of them. Kid has a great potential. Much greater than Tony ever had.

"Okay, Hap, drop off the kid a block away from school," he instructs his driver while still watching Peter with a fond smile on his face. "Will that work for you, buddy?"

Peter gives a small nod while staring at his feet shyly.

Tony sighs. He obviously couldn't calm the kid, he should try harder. He leans on the table and looks the boy in the eye. "Listen, Peter, I know Happy seems scary and terrifying… He's rolling his eyes at me now, right?" he smirks and waits until Peter looks up at Happy and nods grinning. "Okay, kid, please don't judge him based on his grumpy attitude. It's just a disguise that he likes for a reason I don't understand myself. You'll get used to it. But he's a good guy. I would trust him with my life. Seriously."

Peter nods and reaches for his backpack. "Okay."

Tony sighs relieved. He might overrate it, but he honestly thinks it's huge that the kid trusts someone just because Tony said he could. Yeah, he's Iron Man and people usually believe the Avengers, but he guesses the kid sees him more as Tony and not as a superhero whose job is to be the good guy.

"Good. Have a nice day at school," he says.

He hopes everything's gonna be fine. He had a meeting with the principal and a social worker yesterday. He took one of his lawyers with him, mostly to remind him not to lose his temper. But even that couldn't stop him from feeling furious before the meeting and he was really, really close to storm into the principal's office and flip the guy's desk. Then his phone buzzed and there was a short text from Peter. 'Please, Mr. Stark.'

And that immediately sobered him. He adjusted his tie, put a huge, fake smile on his face and entered the office. He told the story about the internship and Aunt Julia's moving, he told about his arrangement with Julia and stated that Peter had already moved in. Which – despite his polite smile that he was wearing all along – could be interpreted as everything has been settled already, it's not your business, stay out of it just like you stayed out of Peter's life when he needed your help and screw you, assholes.

There was a long silence in the office after Tony had finished his story. He was ready to bring out the big guns, death threats and stuff like that. But then the principal and the social worker looked at each other and they did exactly what they had done before. They just let it go without any questions. Just like before, they chose the easier way. Why fussing over it, when it's already sorted out, right?

And when Tony shook their hands, he disguised his low opinion on them under a fake smile again, happy to leave that place behind.

On his way out of the school, he ran into Ned Leeds in the hallway. He winked at the boy and Ned gave him a small smile before walking away with a tall, curly-haired girl.

Of course, Peter's decision to tell the whole truth to Ned was the right one. Just like Tony had predicted, Ned forgave Peter right away and the two boys had a really long conversation that lasted until dinner. Tony provided them the best dinner he could: he ordered pizza and while they were eating, he listened to the kids discussing school, Star Wars and Lego stuff. Tony was happy to see that Peter could be just a regular kid with Ned. With his extraordinary life, Peter deserves moments like that.

And of course, their secret was safe with Ned. That boy was way too happy to be a part of a conspiracy. His words, obviously.

But it didn't mean that Peter wanted to let anyone else in school know the truth. He insisted on Mr. Stark telling the story about Julia at the meeting and the man didn't protest. It's not like it was the first lie in his life. And as long as it helped Peter feel more comfortable, he could do it without hesitation.

"Don't you think you owe me an explanation?" Happy grunts, breaking into his thoughts.

Tony walks to the man and pats him on the shoulder. "All you need to know is, Hap, that Peter needs to go to school and you're driving him. And picking him up in the afternoon. He's a good kid, so I would appreciate if you didn't terrorize him during the ride, okay?"

"Is he your son or something? An old flame left him on your doorstep? Shouldn't you run a DNA-test first?" Happy objects whispering.

Tony glances over at Peter who is already at the elevator, looking embarrassed. The kid told him about his enhanced hearing and he has no doubt that Peter could hear everything Happy has just said.

"He's 15, Happy, he couldn't be left on my doorstep. And no, he's not my son. He's a kid who needed help and yes, I'm trying to help him. That's it. Now please, drive him to school, he would hate to be late. I would do it myself, but I have a conference call that I couldn't pass. Not after already backing out of Singapore… anyway, chop-chop, go now, Hap."

The driver rolls his eyes once again and strides to the elevator.

Tony looks at Peter and gives him the thumbs up and a smile. The boy smiles back but he looks anxious watching Happy enter the elevator before him.

As the doors close behind them, Tony buries his head in his hands. Gosh, he really hopes it was not the last time he saw the kid alive.

Chapter Text

When the conference call is finally over, Tony decides to check if Peter has survived the trip with his grumpy driver. Sure, he would know by now if something had happened, but there's no harm in asking the kid. Plus, Tony feels bad that he couldn't drive him himself. He should have done that. This is Peter's first day back at school since he moved into the Tower. As a responsible parent, Tony should have been the one giving him a ride. Wait, what? Parent? Sounds so strange. But isn't that what he's supposed to be now? No matter how weird it sounds. Tony Stark is a parent. Huh. Who would have thought that?

He could text Happy, too but he's not that worried about him. He's been with Tony long enough and nothing surprises him anymore. Happy has often teased him that Tony's playboy years will come back to haunt him and one day he's gonna find a kid on his doorstep. Or an angry single mother demanding child support.

And Tony has a feeling that people will think the same when they meet Peter. They'll think that he's Tony's son from an old affair. Whatever. Tony has never really minded what people think. Most of them have never had a good opinion on him anyway. He just hopes no one will tease Peter.

On second thought, why would they? Anyone can see Peter is not his child. This quiet, nice kid with impeccable manners? Come on, there's absolutely no resemblance between them.

He quickly types a short text to Peter before remembering that the kid might get into trouble for texting back in class. But Peter does reply. "I'm okay. Happy didn't say anything. Just stared at me in the rearview mirror. Was a bit creepy :)"

It's already afternoon when Tony makes himself call Pepper. In the last few hours, he has managed to come up with dozens of excuses. He has the conference call. Pepper has a meeting. The reception in Asia must be pretty bad. Pepper's in a different time zone, she must be asleep. Now she's on a plane. Tony has some documents to read first. He has to check out something with one of his suits. With Peter's suit.

He really doesn't want to talk to Pepper. Once again, she would tell him that taking in a kid is over the top. There would have been other ways to help Peter. He should have called her first, should have asked her opinion. Taking care of a kid is a big deal. And Tony couldn't even keep a plant alive. It's more than just letting him sleep in the guest room and feeding him a few times a day. Just like Happy, Pepper is used to cleaning up Tony's mess and she never hesitates to call him out on his shit.

But he promised to call her and he definitely needs her help, so breaking his promise wouldn't be a good idea.

"Wow, Tony, you ran out of reasons why not to call me?" Pepper says answering the phone.

"You know me too well, Potts," he shrugs. "That's why I don't understand why you needed a break," he adds sourly.

"Maybe that's exactly the reason, have you ever thought of that?" she snaps back, but he can hear a smile in her voice. It's just their usual banter. Maybe Pepper was right when she suggested friendship instead of a relationship. Maybe it's really better this way. "How's Peter?" she asks.

"Surprisingly good. I mean he's alive; I gave him breakfast and asked Happy to drive him to school."

"That's great. I mean the fact that he's still breathing. But seriously, Tony, how is he? Mentally?"

"Well, he hasn't run away yet, I guess that's a good sign," he jokes.

"Why are you saying that?" she asks, not laughing.

"Pepper, in the last few days you've pointed out several times that it would be better for Peter if he didn't stay with me."

"That's not what I said," she protests.

"Well, maybe those weren't the exact words but-"

"I'm just worried, Tony. About both of you. I'm worried because if this doesn't work out, that could hurt you both."

"And you think there's a high chance that it won't work out."

Pepper sighs. "There's a chance, yes. I mean Peter might be a nice kid and I'm sure he is, but he's been through a lot. Plus, he's a superhero. You can't say he's an average kid. And you? You're Tony Stark. No one could be further from average," she laughs.

Tony smiles. "You're right, Pep. About both of us. But maybe that's exactly why this will work out in the end, you know?"

There's a long silence on the other end of the line before Pepper finally answers. "You know what, Tony? You might be right. You both have your own issues. But maybe that's why you could be great together."

"Yeah, Pep, I hate to say I told you so… no, scratch that, I love saying that," he grins. "And I told you I just couldn't let CPS send Peter to a random foster family. Yes, he's been through a lot and I'm sure there are plenty of people who are much better at dealing with kids with tons of emotional baggage. But he's also a superhero and he needs someone who helps him with that side of his life, too."

Pepper smiles. "That's not what I meant, though. I mean yes, the superhero stuff certainly narrows down the possibilities for Peter. But you said Peter had emotional baggage? Hate to break it to you, Tony, you have that, too. And that's why you could be a good fit. You might actually help each other."

"Don't do that, Pep," Tony groans.

"Do what?"

"Don't set such high expectations. I thought if I could keep Peter alive until he's 18 that would be enough. Now I am supposed to help him work his way through his issues, too?" Tony expresses mock shock.

Pepper laughs. "You'll be fine, Tony. "

"Thanks, Pep."

"And Tony?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm sorry about earlier. I mean when I implied that you couldn't do this. Because you can. I'm sure about it. You did the right thing."

"Thank you."

"I was just shocked, you know? Because it's big. It's really big," she explains.

"Yeah, that's why I'm freaked out all the time, Pep," the man laughs nervously.

"That means you care, Tony. But you can do this. You're a good man and you've got this. And you've got help, don't forget that. You can call me anytime. And not just when you need help with legal issues or the press, alright?"

Tony lets out a big breath. "Thank you, Pepper. I appreciate it. I really do."

Suddenly, Friday's voice interrupts their conversation. "Sorry, boss, you have an incoming call from Happy Hogan."

Tony frowns. Why is Happy calling him? He can't pick up the kid for some reason? Has something happened to Peter?

"Listen, Pepper, I'm sorry but I gotta take this," he says on the verge of panic.

"Sure, Tony, call me later," she answers and hangs up.

The man glances at the clock. Happy was supposed to meet Peter about twenty minutes ago.

"Hey, Hap, is everything alright?" he asks his driver, answering his call. He desperately tries to remain calm. No need to freak out. No one died. Hopefully.

"Tony, we've got a problem," Happy replies uneasily.

And there goes his calmness.

"Elaborate," Tony snaps.

"I was waiting for the kid at the same spot where I had dropped him off this morning. He was late. And then another kid showed up, his name was Ned or Ted or something. He told Peter wouldn't come because he wanted to be alone for a while. And he gave me Peter's backpack. What should I do, boss?"

What just happened? Is Peter gone? For good? Why? Did Tony do or say something wrong? Has he already screwed up just like he thought he would?

But more importantly, where's the kid now? Is he safe? Is he in danger?

Tony can't breathe. His hands are shaking. He feels nauseous. A panic attack. He knows all the symptoms, there's nothing new about them. Not the first time in his life and probably not the last one, either. Panic attacks have been a part of his life since forever. But now? He so doesn't have time for this! He can't allow it. He can't just break down and wait until the attack passes, because he has a kid to find.

So he closes his eyes, takes a few deep breaths and visualizes Peter in his mind. He uses this image as an anchor to get him through the panic attack. He reminds himself that Peter needs him now. Okay, just one more deep breath. He's getting there.

"Tony?"

Right, Happy's still there waiting for an answer. He sighs and runs his hands through his hair. Happy can't do anything. It's not that Peter would just walk up to his car later and how could Happy find the kid? So he tells the driver to return to the Tower.

Then he orders Friday to track down Peter's suit and phone. He has a feeling it won't help though and he's right. Both items are in Peter's backpack, that's why Ned gave it to Happy. Ned. He needs to call that kid. Of course.

"Ned?" he asks anxiously, pacing up and down in the living room.

"Mr-Mr. Stark?" the kid answers in shock, even though he must have expected the call. But Ned was in such awe when they met at the Tower, so it might have freaked him out that Tony actually called him.

"I guess you know why I called you, kid," he says impatiently.

"I-I… yes, of course, Mr. Stark. But… I don't know where Peter is. I swear."

Tony believes him. That kid seems simply unable to lie. It's not surprising that he's Peter's best friend.

"Did he say anything? Did something happen at school?" he inquires.

"No, nothing, sir. Peter looked fine all day. I mean he seemed happy to be back at school, we talked all day, I invited him over to watch Star Wars and he said yes. Everything was fine... He said your driver would pick him up after school? Happy? Is that a real name or made up? S-sorry, sir, I know that doesn't matter now. Anyway, we walked together to the car until… suddenly, he stopped, said he needed some time alone, gave me his backpack and asked me to give it to Happy. That's it, Mr. Stark, I swear."

"He ran away?"

"Ye-yeah. He didn't use webs if that's what you mean. He ran. Like a normal person. Can-can you track him down, Mr. Stark?"

"No, his suit and phone are in his backpack," Tony replies tiredly.

"Oh. I see. That-that makes sense. I mean I tried to call him a bunch of times, but it went straight to voicemail."

"Do you have any idea where he could be now, Ned?" the man probes. Please, please give me something!

"No, sir, I'm sorry. I mean… there was this time in Peter's life… you know, when he… when he lived on the streets… I-I didn't know anything about that. And he doesn't really talk about it. I mean… What I mean is that maybe he has many more secrets. He's my best friend, Mr. Stark. But I'm afraid I-I don't know him that much anymore."

Tony sighs. There's no anger in Ned's voice, just sadness. He definitely wants to help his friend but he doesn't know if he can. But it's okay. Because Peter is Tony's responsibility. It's his job to find the kid and bring him home.

"Alright, Ned. Thanks anyway."

"Mr. Stark? Please find Peter. I'm really worried about him," Ned says quietly.

"Yeah, that makes two of us. But I'm gonna find him, kid, don't worry," he promises.

And he knows that's exactly what's going to happen. There's no other option. He will find Peter.

Chapter Text

As soon as Tony hangs up the phone, he orders Friday to find the kid immediately. To check every camera available, ATMs, traffic cams, security cameras, everything. He still remembers the last time when he asked the same. When Peter went after the man who had hit his aunt. Tony should create a protocol that Friday could follow in cases like this and give it a cool name. Like Where's Waldo? However, it would be really great if Peter running away didn't become a regular thing. Yeah, that would be awesome. The tracker in his suit is obviously not enough. Tony should really have him microchipped. He could definitely sleep better then.

Friday quickly finds Peter; she pulls up footage from some cameras and there's the kid, running through the streets. But then the AI loses him.

"Friday, what happened?" Tony asks nervously.

"I'm sorry, boss, Peter reached an area where there are no cameras that I can use."

"Keep looking. He could show up anywhere."

He won't and Tony knows that. Peter is smart, he's probably aware that Friday can easily find him if he doesn't avoid cameras. The kid doesn't want to be found. What did Ned say? Peter needed some alone time, right?

But why? And why now? The morning with Happy's arrival might have been a bit awkward, but it certainly wasn't bad enough to make Peter run away, right? Did something happen at school? Ned said it hadn't, but what if Ned was wrong? And what if there was something wrong all along, but Tony didn't notice it? Does he really know Peter that well? Maybe the boy was only pretending that everything was fine.

But whatever made him run, Tony has to figure out where he could be now. Hopefully, the kid wouldn't leave the city. No, Peter made up a whole story about fake relatives just to make sure that he didn't have to leave New York. With any luck, he doesn't think the situation is bad enough to leave the city now. Where could he go? Some place without cameras? Probably in Queens, right?

Patrolling as Spiderman, Peter knows the area like the back of his hand. He might have plenty of good hiding spots. But his number one would be… the place he knows the most. Where he spent the last few months.

His warehouse.

Tony pulls up in front of the abandoned building. When he checked out the place a few days ago and gathered Peter's stuff, he hoped he would never have to return here. Even more, he hoped the kid would never come back here.

But if Peter's here and it's gonna be a thing that he regularly returns to this awful place, Tony might buy the entire area and renovate every damned building here. So that Peter could have his me-time under better circumstances and not in the company of rats and drug addicts.

Okay, that's something that the old Tony Stark would say, he would think money is always the solution. However, the new Tony Stark jumps out of the car to look for the kid, because that's the priority. Not to wrinkle his nose in disgust. So he strides toward the now familiar, smaller building.

"Friday, is he here?" he asks anxiously.

"I can detect a heat signature in the building."

"Second floor?"

"Yes, boss."

Tony sighs relieved. That's where Peter stayed. The man hopes it's really him and the place doesn't have a new resident who wouldn't appreciate his visit.

Now he doesn't stop all the time, feeling upset about this terrible place like when he came here first. He quickly finds his way through the garbage to the second floor, to the open area that once served as the kid's home.

The old mattress is still there in the corner. And on the mattress there's… Peter. He's sitting there, back against the wall, knees drawn to his chest, with his head down, staring at his feet.

He doesn't seem to register Tony's arrival, but the man knows this enhanced kid could never not notice his entry. He just probably doesn't care.

Tony slowly walks closer and then sits down on the floor. "Mind if I join you?" he carefully asks.

Peter doesn't look up at him, just shrugs.

Tony waits for the boy to speak, but he's not surprised when the kid remains silent. He's an impatient man, though, so he tries to start a conversation. "Hey, Pete-"

Suddenly, the kid's eyes shoot up at him. "I wasn't running away! I wanted to go back, I swear," he claims. There's regret in his voice. And tears in his eyes. "I just wanted to be alone," he adds, whispering.

"That's okay, kid," Tony replies calmly. "I get it. There's nothing wrong with that. But you need to understand you can't just disappear like that. I need to know where you are, bud. All the time."

Tony wants to add that he would prefer if Peter stayed alone in his room at the Tower and not in this damned building, but he decides not to say that now.

"Because now you're responsible for me?" Peter mutters.

The man remembers that's what he thought earlier, too. But it's more than that. "Yeah, I'm responsible for you, kid. But more importantly, I was worried about you. When Happy said you had left, I freaked out, Peter. I panicked."

The tears start to flow freely on Peter's cheeks. He quickly wipes them away with the sleeves of his hoodie. "I'm sorry, Mr. Stark. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to upset you."

Tony honestly can't imagine what the kid thought. He disappears and Tony will be okay with that? He will just patiently wait for him to return? What parent would do that? But he guesses the kid is too upset to think straight now, so he might as well save the logical reasoning for later.

"Can you tell me what's wrong, buddy?" he asks instead. "A ride home with Happy would have been that terrifying?"

Peter smiles weakly. "Happy is terrifying. But it's not that."

"Then what?" Tony probes. Geez, it's gonna take a lot of time to get to the bottom of the story. He realizes being a parent is practically a test of patience. And a lot of worrying.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Stark, it's just…" the boy starts hesitantly. "It's just too much, you know? I mean everything that has happened in the last few weeks... I mean one day I'm here, in this warehouse and the next day I'm at the Tower, in a penthouse? I'm grateful, Mr. Stark, I really am, don't get me wrong, please... I'm sure now you think I'm a brat. I should be happy. And I am. Of course I appreciate the bed, the food and the warmth. So much. You have no idea."

Tony looks around and frowns. He doesn't want to imagine what it could have been like to endure winter in this place, with no windows. What it could have been like for Peter to go to sleep hungry and freezing. He doesn't want the kid to go through that ever again.

"When I was here, that's what I was dreaming about, Mr. Stark," the boy continues. "I wanted to have a home again. And I didn't want to be alone anymore... But I always wanted just a small room, you know? Something cozy. You should have seen the apartment where I was living with my aunt. That place was so tiny, Mr. Stark. And now I live in your penthouse? Where my room is bigger than our old apartment was? I don't deserve that, Mr. Stark. Seriously."

Tony smiles. Really? That's the kid's problem? That's the reason why he ran away? Because his life has become better than he expected? And honestly, he deserves this. He'd deserve so much more.

"And there's one more thing," Peter goes on. "I was used to being by myself, Mr. Stark. I never liked it, but I was used to it. No one knew about my secret identity until recently… But now? You, Dr. Banner, Ned and Miss Potts know. I guess Happy also suspects something. It's just…"

"Too much?" the man asks, remembering the kid's earlier words.

Peter nods. "It's not bad or anything, it's just…"

"Overwhelming?" Tony tries.

The boy nods again.

"And you don't know how to handle this," the man guesses.

Peter lowers his head. "I'm sorry. I know how ridiculous it sounds. Everything's good. Really. And I know I sound ungrateful and I'm sorry, Mr. Stark but-"

"It's okay, Pete, it really is," Tony says. He moves closer to the kid and gently squeezes his shoulder. "Hey, kid, look at me." He patiently waits until those big, tear-filled eyes find him and he gives Peter a reassuring smile. "It's okay to feel this way. It's totally okay, you hear me? There's absolutely nothing wrong with that and I would never think you're ungrateful, okay?" He waits again until the kid gives him a nod. "Pete, I know you hate changes. You told me that. And I know changes can be scary, even the good ones. It's normal to feel uncomfortable and overwhelmed, when things change around you. And God knows things have changed around you a lot recently. It's okay to need time to get used to something new. But you know there's only one change that really matters. That you're not alone anymore. I'm here for you, Pete, whenever you need me. Don't you ever forget that. And you can always tell me if there's something wrong."

"Thank you, Mr. Stark," Peter sniffs.

"Tony. You can call me Tony. I mean you live under my roof," the man grins. "Which brings us to another issue, kid. I understand why you ran away and I understand why you have come here. But please, don't you ever disappear like that again, okay? Like I said I always need to know where you are, kid. That's part of my job. And although it seems very tempting to have you microchipped, I really don't wanna do that. I want to trust you, kid. So I need you to tell me where you go. Always, Pete. Please."

"Sure, Mr. Stark. I'm sorry," Peter sniffs again. "I'm so sorry."

"It's alright, kid," Tony says and pulls Peter into a hug, but he can feel the boy is still way too tense. He rubs comforting circles on the kid's back and sighs relieved when Peter finally melts into the hug. Cherishing the moment, he decides not to point out that the kid called him Mr. Stark again. Maybe that's just another change that takes time to get used to.

"Okay, it's Friday, kid, so what would you think if we just stayed home all weekend? Just you and me? Spending all the time in the lab? Except when we watch movies and eat pizza? Huh? How does that sound to you?"

"That would be perfect, Mr. Stark," the boy murmurs against the man's jacket.

Tony smiles and ruffles Peter's hair. "Yeah, I agree, kid. It's gonna be perfect."

Chapter Text

It's Tuesday night and Peter is chilling on one of his favorite rooftops, eating a granola bar. His life has become normal in the last few days. As normal as it can be while being Spiderman and living with Tony Stark at the Tower. But he goes to school and has a home again. He sleeps in a bed and doesn't have to worry about food anymore. It's awesome, it really is. His old life with Aunt May might be over, but he really like this new one. He hopes it'll last. He still has his doubts, though. Mr. Stark is not parent material, he said that himself. More than once. He said he worried that he wouldn't be good enough for Peter.

But Peter knows that's bullshit. Because Mr. Stark is kind and caring and compassionate and understanding and supportive like a parent should be. He's not the overconfident, arrogant smartass like he pretends to be at press conferences, no, he's a good man. He could have called CPS when he found out that Peter was a homeless kid, most adults would have done that. But Mr. Stark chose the hard way: he decided to take in Peter instead.

And the boy is really grateful. He has never stayed in a foster family but when he was living on the streets, he heard stories, he met kids who had run away from their foster homes. He knows finding a really good foster family is hard for any kid. Let alone for an enhanced teenager. What normal family would tolerate or even support a kid who wants to be a superhero by night?

What would have May done if the bite had happened before her death? She would have worried about him, sure, but would have she let him patrol as Spiderman? Peter thinks after some serious conversations (no, not fights), May would have understood the importance of Spiderman. With his weird powers, Peter just couldn't stay put not doing anything. He couldn't just not use his powers when he has the chance to help people. He feels responsible for the little guy. And May would have understood that. Being a nurse, helping people was her life, too.

Anyway, Peter knows he's really lucky. He doesn't have to live on the streets anymore, he has a really nice room and Mr. Stark makes amazing waffles. Plus, the man is okay with the Spiderman thing. He added some more rules to the curfew, but they're okay. For example, taking a break every now and then to eat something. Like this granola bar right now.

So things are okay. More than okay, everything's awesome. Peter feels it's like the happy ending of a movie, just before the end credits roll. This is like happily ever after.

But way too many bad things have happened to Peter and he knows good things never last forever. And this will come to an end, too. He remembers how he felt when he woke up at the Tower after Tony had told him that he could stay forever. Peter thought it was all a dream. A really good one. And he didn't want to wake up. Well, it still feels like a dream and he still doesn't want to wake up. But he knows he has to. Sooner or later.

In Peter's opinion, there are two possible scenarios. One day, Mr. Stark will realize living with a kid is too much trouble. The everyday routine that comes with a child is not for him. Getting up early every day, making breakfast, helping with homework, talking to teachers, allowing other kids to come over, making dinner… Peter doesn't think he's that much trouble, he doesn't really need help with his homework and he doesn't get into trouble at school, so his teachers don't have to call Mr. Stark, but still. Peter knows a kid is trouble, much more trouble than a puppy and Mr. Stark's life is crazy enough even without a kid, thank you very much. And yes, one day the man will realize this and Peter will have to go.

Or. More likely, Peter will screw up. He will let his emotions get the better of him and he will do something really stupid. Like the last time, when he ran away and hid in the warehouse. What did he think? How could he possibly think that Mr. Stark would be okay with that? Well, the answer is simple: he didn't think. At all. And Peter tries really hard not to make a mistake like that again. He tries not to do anything stupid that might make Mr. Stark change his mind about taking him in. But who is he kidding? Of course he'll screw up. It's just a matter of time. Mr. Stark might be really cool and understanding but he won't tolerate Peter's shit forever.

Because there's so much to tolerate. Although May died more than half a year ago, he's still not over it. He still misses her. So much.

And after living on the streets for months, he's lucky enough to find a good home, but instead of feeling happy and relieved, what is he doing? He's running away, back to his cold and dirty hideout to cry, because it's too much. Pathetic.

And when he feels better, he goes out to patrol as Spiderman while all the other kids are safely tucked in their beds.

Yeah, Peter's not a hard case at all. Absolutely nothing extraordinary about him. He really doesn't make it that hard for Mr. Stark to take care of him. He doesn't give him any trouble. Yeah, sure.

Right, Mr. Stark said he would never kick him out. He said that when they were discussing those stupid rules. The man claimed no matter what Peter did, he would never send him away. But the boy thinks Mr. Stark didn't know what he was talking about. He didn't know how much trouble Peter could be.

So. It's just a matter of time until Mr. Stark kicks him out. And Peter won't even blame him. No, he'll understand.

Suddenly, a scream interrupts his train of thoughts. He immediately drops the last piece of the granola bar and pulls down his mask. He's ready for action. Actually, he feels relieved that he has something to distract him from his misery. Then he feels bad because he shouldn't be glad that someone is obviously in trouble.

"Karen, what's happening?" he asks, leaping over the ledge.

"Three men attacked a young woman two blocks from here. I checked a security camera footage, one of them has a knife," Karen informs him.

With his AI's help, Spiderman soon arrives at the scene. In a dark alleyway, three thugs are surrounding a woman in her late twenties; one of guys already has her bag in his hands. But they clearly want more. A man reaches for the girl's jacket and she screams again, stepping back from her attacker only to bump into another one behind her. That guy grabs her arms and she struggles to get out of his grip, but the man is strong and she can't get away from him.

"Didn't your mom teach you to treat a lady with respect?" Spiderman asks, crouching on the top of a van.

The man might be surprised by the superhero's arrival but he's definitely not scared. He strengthens his grip on the woman's arms and she hisses in pain. The goon's friend, the one with the knife steps forward, he probably wants to defend him from Spiderman. The third one is just clutching the handbag like it's some kind of precious treasure. He probably doesn't even know what to do. The weakest link, Spiderman thinks to himself.

"Okay, so this is the moment when you let the lady go and run," Spiderman implies what the criminals should do now. But they don't understand. Or don't want to. "Well, don't complain later that I didn't give you a chance to leave," the superhero shrugs.

He quickly shoots a web at the guy with the bag and webs him to a streetlight. The bag falls from his hands. One down, two more to go.

The man with the knife – a tall, skinny guy with a brown beanie – steps even closer to his friend, who moves back with the woman. Spiderman jumps off the van and lands in front of them. The goon with the knife raises his weapon threateningly.

"Relax, buddy," Spiderman says, holding up both of his hands in a mock surrender.

It's gonna be too easy. He'll just yank out the knife of Beanie's hands and go for the other guy. That one doesn't seem to have any weapon; it'll be easy enough to convince him to let the woman go. Scratch that. Something metallic is shining in that thug's hand, too. Where was his knife until now? Well, there goes Spiderman's plan. If he starts to fight with Beanie now, he might not be able to protect the woman from the other guy. He can't risk that.

"Why don't you let the lady go and we'll call it a night," Spiderman offers.

"Why don't you get lost, freak?" the criminal holding the girl snorts.

"You know I can't let you leave with her."

"But I like her," the man grins, pulling the woman closer. She squeezes her eyes shut, she probably tries to pretend that she's not even here, in this crazy situation.

Spiderman thinks hard. If there was no hostage, he could easily fight both of these guys. But he can't risk the thugs hurting the woman. He has to come up with a new plan.

"Karen," he mutters, "Could you create some kind of diversion?"

"Sure, Peter," the AI answers.

Suddenly, an alarm goes off further down the alley. The sound is way too loud for Spiderman's super hearing and he hopes it's too loud for the criminals, too.

"Nice, Karen," he praises the AI. Now he needs to move fast.

When the thugs turn to check out the noise, Spiderman immediately takes the opportunity to shoot a web at a fire escape and swings over the bad guys, landing behind them. The men are still distracted by the alarm and Spiderman can easily get the woman out of her attacker's grip. By the time the guy realizes what happened, the superhero has already pushed her behind his back.

Okay, now that the hostage is safe, he can fight the bad guys. He whispers to the girl to leave. As she hesitantly starts to back away, he's shielding her from the thugs who are still trying to get closer to them, holding out their knives. "Easy, easy," Spiderman says as if talking to wild animals.

Finally, the woman decides it's safe to run. She quietly thanks Spiderman and darts off. She even grabs her bag from the ground.

And now the fight begins. The men seem really angry now that their hostage has slipped away and they launch forward furiously. But Spiderman dodges most of their punches and their knives never touch him. Okay, he might take some pretty bad hits, but he's fine, it's alright, it's nothing he can't handle. He kicks out a knife from its owner's hand and he shoots a web to snatch the other one. The fight lasts only like three minutes and then the three criminals are webbed up as yet another gift for the police.

"Huh, that was fun," Spiderman remarks, dusting off his hands. "Maybe we can do this again some time? On second thought, maybe not. Don't steal bags and kidnap ladies, that's mean."

He shoots a web to another fire escape to leave the scene. It must be late and he has school tomorrow, maybe this has been enough for tonight.

"Karen, call the police, please, let them know that we have a nice surprise for them. And if you could also send them the security camera footage that you used before, that would be awesome."

Spiderman is already on a rooftop, ready to shoot another web to swing home when he realizes something is not right. Something is missing. But what? Maybe his AI knows what's wrong.

"Karen?"

There's no answer.

"Karen?" he tries again. Okay, now he's officially worried.

Then a script appears on his HUD.

"I'm sorry, Peter. One of the hits must have damaged my audio system. I'm afraid my voice is gone."

Oh shit. What has he done?

Chapter Text

It's 4am and Peter hasn't managed to repair his suit yet. He has school tomorrow – no, today – and he hasn't slept all night, desperately trying to come up with something to bring back Karen's voice. It would be probably easier if he could sneak into Mr. Stark's lab, that's where they always work on their suits and there are way more tools down there than in Peter's room, but no. Mr. Stark would notice that and ask what happened and Peter would have to come clean and admit that he has ruined the suit.

Mr. Stark never forgets to point out how amazing and unique Peter's suit is, it's one of the greatest things he has ever made and it's worth a lot. A multimillion dollar suit, that's what he called it several times.

And Peter has ruined it.

This is exactly what he's been afraid of. That he will do something really stupid and Mr. Stark will kick him out. Well, if he did that, Peter wouldn't blame him. He has just destroyed his suit, the best gift he has ever received.

Could he pay it back? He doesn't have his job at the store anymore; Mr. Stark assured Peter that he didn't need it. Maybe he was a fool to quit the job. But who is he kidding? With the money he earned there, he would never be able to pay for the ruined suit. Not even if he lived five hundred years. So it doesn't really matter if he still has the job or not.

Right, Peter always knew he would screw up. He just never thought it would happen this soon. He thought he would have a few nice weeks or even months at the Tower before his inevitable leaving. He takes a look around in his room. Well, it won't be his room much longer. Shame. It's been really nice to stay here.

But he doesn't deserve it. He has taken away Karen's voice. Okay, he knows technically, it wasn't him but one of the goons who hit him on a wrong spot and it resulted in some kind of malfunction. But it was Peter in the suit, he should have fought better, he should have dodged that hit. It's his fault.

He remembers his long conversations with Karen back in the warehouse, when the AI was his only company, the only one who comforted him. And he knows Karen's not real, of course not, but she really feels like a friend. A very good one. And Peter took her voice.

There might be some tears watering the boy's eyes, but he quickly wipes them away. He has no time for this. He has to work on the suit, bring back Karen's voice and everything's going to be alright again. As if last night's fiasco has never happened.

And Peter won't have to tell Mr. Stark anything, he won't have to give the man a reason to send him away. Karen will never rat him out, he knows that. Friday, though… no, Friday promised Peter not to tell anything to Mr. Stark. And he has no choice but to believe her, even though she's not his but Mr. Stark's AI and she will always be more loyal to him than to Peter. Obviously.

But Peter has managed to convince Friday that losing Karen's voice is just a minor problem, something that he can easily fix and he will tell Mr. Stark everything later. No need to bother the man now. And as Mr. Stark went to bed surprisingly early and Friday also knows the man has trouble with sleeping, it was relatively easy to persuade the AI not to wake him up for such a nuisance.

Except… Peter has absolutely no idea how to fix the suit. He could call Ned, he knows his friend would gladly help him, but there's this crazy thing that Ned usually does at night: he likes to sleep.

Unlike Peter who has been up since last morning. If only he could find a way to bring back Karen's voice. He could still sleep an hour or two until school.

What should he do? Karen has been really helpful, as much as she can be now without her voice. But she can't find a solution, either. And Friday? She had an idea: asking Mr. Stark. Yeah, Peter guesses the man could probably fix the suit in five minutes, but no. He would think Peter is not responsible enough and he would take away the suit. Even worse, he would kick out the kid for being reckless and ruining one of his most amazing creations. The multimillion dollar suit.

He can't let that happen. Peter wants to stay. So much. The Tower has become the closest thing to home and Mr. Stark? He's like… a parent? The word feels strange on the boy's lips. But Mr. Stark is definitely the person who cares for Peter the most. And he can't risk losing him. He can't lose him, too… Peter wouldn't…

No, there's no need to go there just yet. He just needs to figure out how to repair the suit. Easy. He still has some time until school.

It's Friday night and Karen's voice hasn't returned yet. It's been what? Four days now? The fourth night in a row without any sleep. Gosh, Peter is so tired! Besides a few naps, he couldn't really sleep and now he understands why sleep deprivation is a form of torture. Because it is torture.

And as Peter obviously can't let Mr. Stark know that he's screwed up, he has to go to school and patrol like nothing happened.

Thank God, he didn't have any tests at school this week. It was still incredibly hard to keep his eyes open during class. He considered ditching school and finding a place to sleep a bit instead, maybe he could have gone back to the warehouse, his old mattress might still have been there and he could have had a really nice nap… yeah, a nap sounded so tempting. Even in the warehouse. But it wasn't worth the risk. If he had ditched school, a teacher would have definitely called Mr. Stark and Peter would have had to admit everything.

And he has to patrol, too because if he didn't, Mr. Stark would get suspicious. Peter could find some kind of excuse, like he's feeling sick, but they both know Peter never really gets sick. Not anymore since the bite. Or he could say he's tired. Which would be true, right? That would be great, being honest for once. But what superhero would stay in for the night just because he's tired? Yeah, and the criminals would be like: 'okay, then we're not doing anything bad tonight, that wouldn't be fair'. Sure. Like it works that way.

So Spiderman is still up for his regular crime fighting. And Karen's still out there with him, helping him as much as she can without her voice. And all the info that the AI provides on the HUD is still very helpful, it's just... Fighting criminals is a kinda fast business. You don't always have time to read before you need to react. So now Spiderman takes a bit more hits than before. But it's okay. It really is. There was a Spiderman before the amazing suit too, right? Before Karen appeared. And what if he's a bit slower because of the lack of sleep? He's got this. There's absolutely nothing to worry about.

Peter still misses Karen's voice, though. It's not the same without her kind, caring voice. There were way too many nights when she was the only voice that Peter heard and he misses hearing her so much.

Just a little more time, tough. Peter will fix the suit and bring back Karen's nice voice. He will. And then he can talk to her again.

And he can sleep again. He won't have to worry about falling asleep during breakfast with Mr. Stark. Or during the drive to school while a suspicious Happy observes him in the rearview mirror. Okay, Peter does fall asleep in the car all the time. Not just because he's so damned tired but also because in this way he doesn't have to endure Happy's constant stare. Which is borderline creepy.

He wishes he could finally find a way to fix the suit! After the first sleepless night, the boy asked Ned and he had some good ideas. But unfortunately none of them worked. Ned is still very helpful, he keeps suggesting new ways to repair the damage but he hasn't been successful so far. He's a good friend, though and he doesn't give up brainstorming. He's always eager to stay up and text Peter throughout the night to find a solution together. But Peter always tells him to go to bed because he needs someone to wake him up in case he falls asleep during class. That always works. And Ned goes to bed while Peter keeps working.

It's a miracle that Friday hasn't said anything to Mr. Stark yet. Peter has asked her really nicely and told her that it is for the best. Peter just doesn't want Mr. Stark to worry. The man has such a stressful life, and this is really not that important, they shouldn't trouble him with this. And surprisingly, Friday has agreed. Peter sometimes thinks that the AI will go behind his back and tell everything to her boss, but the fact that Mr. Stark hasn't stormed into Peter's room yet proves that Friday has kept her promise.

And to the kid's luck, the man's had a busier week than usual. More meetings, even a short trip to DC. Mr. Stark had to skip three dinners and two breakfasts during the week. And Peter would have been really sad about it, if those missed meals hadn't given him time to nap. Okay, he was sad. No matter how exhausted he is, spending time with Mr. Stark is always better than sleeping.

But Peter knows he can't go on like this for long. He really needs to come up with something. Before either Friday decides to alert Mr. Stark or he collapses from exhaustion. The kid really wants to avoid both scenarios.

It's 6.20am, the sun has already come up. Another sleepless night has passed and poor Karen is still voiceless. Peter leans back in his chair and yawns. He glances over his shoulder. His bed looks so inviting. Could a bed look more wonderful than this one? Could pillows look softer, could blankets look warmer than these?

The boy sighs and folds his head in his arms. He is about to doze off, just a little bit, sleeping a minute or two, but no… he can't rest just yet. Only when Karen's voice is back. It's Saturday morning, which means breakfast will be later, so he has some time to work. And there are still a few circuits he could give a try to. He might as well go on with the work.

"Hello, Peter," Karen's nice voice suddenly fills the air.

Peter drops the tools from his hands and his mouth falls open.

"Congratulations, Peter, you have brought back my voice," Karen says happily.

"K-Karen, is that… really you?" the kid asks stunned. He has honestly no idea how he did it, which circuit was to blame. Was it something that he should have notice at the beginning? Was it something that Mr. Stark could have fixed in a minute? Probably. But it doesn't matter anymore. All that matters is he has finally fixed the suit himself after four sleepless nights. Karen's back. She is really back.

"It's me, Peter," the AI confirms joyfully.

"Oh, Karen, I wish I could hug you now! I'm so happy to hear your voice again!" the boy cheers. "You have such a beautiful voice, you know that?"

"Thank you, Peter," Karen replies kindly. "And may I suggest going to bed now? You could still sleep a few hours before breakfast."

Now that he is reminded of sleeping, the kid can't help yawning again. "You're right, Karen. You know what? Thank God, it's Saturday. I'm gonna sleep all weekend. I'll get up for meals but other than that I'm gonna sleep until Monday morning."

"That's an excellent idea, Peter," Karen agrees.

The boy slowly gets up, drags himself to the bed and crawls under the blankets. Just a second later, he's already asleep, dead to the world. But even in his sleep, a small, satisfied smile refuses to leave his face.

But his peaceful rest only lasts so long. Maybe it's a few hours later, maybe just a few minutes have passed when there's a knock on his door. He groans and buries his head under a big pillow. No, he won't get up. It's impossible that it's already breakfast time. But if it is, he'll skip breakfast. He's not even hungry.

But the knock is followed by another one and then his door opens a bit. It must be Mr. Stark, he doesn't have to check. Who else could it be?

"Peter?"

Yeah, it's really him. Mr. Stark.

"Listen, bud, I know it's Saturday and I would love to let you sleep longer, even though it's 11am already, but I know teenagers need to sleep a lot and you, kid even more… Anyway, there's someone here who wants to meet you. And I'm pretty sure you would love to see him, too. Plus, I've made your favorite waffles, so chop-chop."

Peter presses himself against the mattress. "You know, Mr. Stark, unless it's one of the Avengers, I'm not coming, sorry."

The man snorts. "Well, last time I checked, I am an Avenger, so… but I guess you're lucky, kid because you can meet another one."

Peter slowly moves and peeks out from under his pillow.

Mr. Stark casually leans against the doorframe with an amused look on his face and a coffee mug in his hand. "So what do you say, kid? Would you crawl out of that nest of yours for the Incredible Hulk?"

Chapter Text

It's Saturday morning and Tony walks into the kitchen to whip up Peter's favorite breakfast: waffles. It has become sort of a tradition of theirs since he made them the very first time for the kid. Tony winces as he recalls that morning. The morning after the first night that Peter spent in the penthouse, the morning after that terrible night when Peter went after the man who had hit May. And the morning when Tony offered the boy to stay, but he declined and went back into his cold warehouse instead. Yeah, Tony hopes waffles won't remind him of all that trouble forever. Waffles should remind him of lazy mornings and breakfasts with Peter. They should indicate the beginning of yet another perfect day with the kid, when Peter doesn't have school and Tony doesn't have SI and they can spend some time together down in the lab or just on the couch. Just like today. Because today is Saturday and they have the whole weekend ahead of them, two long days just for themselves. It's gonna be perfect.

Because Tony wants it to be perfect so much. He had a busy week, tons of boring and long meetings, dull SI stuff that he would have rather skipped to be with the kid instead. He feels guilty for missing some breakfasts and dinners and not being here when Peter got home from school. He knows Peter is a teenager and he doesn't need babysitting all the time. Hell, he doesn't need babysitting at all, he's smart and a superhero, he can really take care of himself. Plus, he was all alone for months and he survived, so no, he doesn't need anyone to look after him.

On the other hand, that's exactly the reason why Tony feels so bad for not spending more time with the kid. Peter was alone far longer than he should have and the man doesn't want him to feel alone anymore.

And there's another reason, too. When Tony told Peter he worried that he wouldn't be good at this family stuff, he thought of his own father who had been absent during most of Tony's childhood. It's not that Howard was the father of the year when he was home but still. He should have been there for his son but he wasn't and that made Tony feel awful. And he definitely doesn't want Peter to feel that way. Ever.

So he's going to make up for the missed meals and a nice breakfast will be waiting for the kid when he wakes up. Then lab time or whatever Peter wants.

"Boss, Dr. Banner is on his way up here," Friday announces unexpectedly.

"Oh… okay, he can join us for breakfast," Tony decides, stirring the batter.

Just a minute later, the elevator doors open. "Good morning, Tony," Bruce greets walking in. "I hope you don't mind me dropping in without warning."

"Actually, there was a warning," Tony smirks. "Friday has just told me you're coming, I could have ordered her to stop the elevator, if you weren't welcome here."

"Thanks, I guess?" Bruce answers hesitantly and takes a seat by the table.

"Coffee?" Tony offers and when the scientist nods, he pours him a cup. "So what brings you up here, Bruce? You're staying for breakfast, right?"

"I could, yeah, thanks, Tony," Bruce replies clutching his coffee mug. "I just… wanted to tell you that I'm going back to India for a while."

"You don't like your nice lab at the Tower anymore, doctor?" Tony grins but he knows the answer even before Bruce opens his mouth to reply.

"I think I could be-"

"More useful there, yeah, I get it," he smiles at his friend warmly. Tony knows this guy too well and he knows he's a good man. One of the best people he's ever met. "Sure, go, Bruce if that's what you want. Just don't lose your phone, okay? I mean we're fine now, but the world might need saving anytime and then we're going to need you, too."

"Don't you mean the Hulk?" Bruce grins.

"Well yeah, the Hulk is really good at smashing enemies, you know, that always comes in handy. And then you can patch up all of us."

"Right," the scientist laughs. "Speaking of patching up… how's my latest patient?"

"Sleeping. You know, it's Saturday, he usually sleeps in at weekends," Tony explains, cooking the first waffles.

"And his new living circumstances… how is it all working out?" Bruce asks, focusing on his mug. As if he's doesn't dare to look directly at Tony.

"Well, we're both still alive and relatively sane, so it's okay, I guess," Tony shrugs, waving the spatula in his hand. Seeing Bruce furrowing his brow, he rolls his eyes. "It's… well, it's not all sunshine and roses but it will never be, I guess. It's fine, as much as it can be. I mean he did run away once but he wasn't thinking. It's better now, really."

"He did what? He ran away?" Bruce stuns.

Tony carefully places the first warm waffles on a plate. "Yeah, he was hiding in that creepy warehouse he had been staying before. Turned out the changes in his life were good but too much and overwhelming. I tried to make him understand he's not alone anymore and he can always tell me if there's something wrong. I hope he knows that," he says, involuntarily glancing at the closed door of Peter's bedroom.

"Well, that makes sense. I mean one day he's a homeless orphan and the next day he's living here with you," Bruce muses.

"Yeah, I know I can be a bit much sometimes," Tony grins. "Contrary to popular belief, I'm not perfect. I mean not all the time. On a serious note, I try to keep a low profile and take it really slow. I don't want to involve more people than necessary. And I keep throwing NDAs to everyone we meet. Right now only you, Pepper, Happy and Barton know that Peter's here and I'd like to keep it that way. I want to give the kid enough time to get used to his new life. Then we'll see."

"Yeah, that makes sense," Bruce agrees. "And for the record, I think what you're doing is incredible. I mean taking in Peter… you did the right thing."

"Honestly? I'm still not sure if that's the best for the kid. I mean I'm pretty sure I'm not a perfect guardian or parent or whatever…" Tony explains, looking over at Peter's door again. "But at least he's safe and sound here and not freezing and starving on the streets, so that's something," he shrugs, focusing on the waffle maker in an attempt to hide his doubts.

"It's more than something," Bruce replies giving him an assuring smile. "You should give yourself more credit, Tony. I mean knowing how confident you are all the time, usually much more confident than you should be, it's kind of strange how uncertain you become when it comes to Peter."

Tony snorts concentrating on cooking the waffles. That way, it's easier to talk about this. "Of course I am uncertain. Because it's not all about me anymore, Bruce, I am responsible for him, too and I really don't want to fuck this up. The kid wouldn't deserve that. But I honestly don't know if I can do this. I mean I want to, of course I want to help him, I want to make him happy, I want to give him the childhood he deserves, as much as it's possible after all the shit that happened to him. But what if I can't, Bruce? What if I screw up?" he asks, looking at his friend with fear evident in his wide eyes.

But to his utter confusion, the scientist gives him yet another warm smile. "Just look at you, Tony. Here you are making breakfast for Peter and talking about how much you want to make him happy. You're doing great, trust me. Do you remember what you just said? That you want to take it slow? Well, I think that's a wonderful idea. Take it slow, Tony. One day at a time. Don't mull over the future yet. I think everything's going to be fine on the long term, too, but it's easier if you always focus on today. You worry about what will happen to Peter tomorrow but you shouldn't forget that he's here today, too. Help him today; be there for him today, that's enough."

Tony lowers his head and lets out a small laugh. Then his eyes shoot up at Bruce. "Man, do you really need to go to India? I'm gonna miss you so much."

Bruce chuckles and drinks up his coffee. Tony refills his cup without a word and then places the pot on the table.

"Alright, I'm gonna wake up the kid now. I hope you're prepared. That little nerd won't let you leave until you two write an essay together on gamma rays or something."

Chapter Text

Returning from Peter's room, Tony pats Bruce on the shoulder. "I promised him the Hulk, so the kid might be a bit disappointed when he realizes it's only you. Unless you want to turn into the Hulk. Wait, no, don't do that. I like this place as it is now."

Before Bruce could come up with an adequate response, Peter emerges from his room. He still looks smaller than he should, wearing a hoodie and sweatpants that look a size too big. He seems unusually pale and can't stop yawning and rubbing his eyes on his way to the kitchen. Honestly, he looks like a zombie, but Tony believes it's normal for a teenager on a Saturday morning. However, as soon as Peter reaches the table and notices Bruce, he brightens up and greets him with the same enthusiasm as earlier, when Tony took him to the med bay after his brutal fight with that monster that had escaped from Oscorp.

During breakfast, Tony and Bruce have a conversation, while Peter mostly concentrates on his food. With an amused look on his face, Bruce watches the boy demolishing most of the waffles himself.

"Trust me, you'll never get used to this sight," Tony grins, pouring more coffee for his friend. "It's really rewarding to cook for him."

"It's just so delicious, Mr. Stark," Peter praises with his mouth full.

"Yeah, I have a feeling that you find everything delicious as long as it's edible, but thanks, kid."

After breakfast, Bruce and Peter settle on the couch and start discussing the latest challenges in the scientist's research. Tony stays behind in the kitchen to clean up but he can't help watching them brainstorming. Surprisingly, the kid doesn't ramble as much as usual and it's mostly Bruce who does the talking. Tony turns away from them to load the dishwasher and suddenly, Bruce is there, standing right beside him.

Tony staggers back, putting a hand on his chest. "Way to give a man a heart attack, Banner!" he complains.

"Sorry," Bruce smiles sheepishly. "I just wanted to ask if you need help over here."

"No, thanks. I don't want to take you away from Peter anyway," Tony replies.

"You couldn't. He's fallen asleep," the scientist says, glancing back at the couch. Peter is still sitting there, his head resting on a back cushion in an awkward angle and despite the seemingly uncomfortable position, he's out like light. "I was in the middle of explaining my new theory on gamma radiation when he dozed off. I'm trying not to take it personally," Bruce chuckles.

"He must be really tired if he fell asleep during your little nerd convention," Tony frowns and watches the boy worriedly.

"He might have had a tough week at school. And being Spiderman must be quite exhausting, too," the scientist shrugs.

Tony sighs and walks over to the couch, grabbing a blanket from an armchair on his way. He gently maneuvers down the boy into a lying position and drapes the blanket over him. He affectionately runs his hand through Peter's soft curls and smiles. Until he notices a small cut on the side of his head, a cut that was hidden under his curls before. It doesn't seem bad, but when did it happen? If Peter had been injured during patrol last night, the cut should have been healed by now.

"What's wrong?" Bruce asks, stepping closer. He must have realized the sudden change in Tony's mood.

Tony gently slicks back Peter's hair once again. "That cut, there. Can you see it?"

"Yes, but it doesn't seem serious."

"That's not the point, Bruce. You know his healing factor. That cut shouldn't be there unless it happened in the last few hours. But that's impossible, because Peter didn't miss his curfew last night; he came home in time. If he hadn't, Friday would have alerted me. Right, girl?"

"That's correct, boss," the AI confirms.

Tony walks back into the kitchen and runs his hands through his hair frustrated.

Bruce follows him. "So Peter's healing ability might not work properly. He needs food and sleep to heal quickly, right? Which means he either didn't sleep enough lately or didn't eat much", he muses, glancing back at the boy. Tony nods. "Well, the lack of sleep would explain why he suddenly dozed off," the scientist adds.

"Yeah, I bet it sounds better than your presentation being too boring for him," Tony smirks but then he turns serious again. "Friday, does Peter have problems with sleeping?"

"Until last night, he didn't go to sleep at all, boss," Friday says calmly.

"What?" the man exclaims. He can see Bruce looking back at the couch to check if the sound has woken up Peter. Fortunately, it hasn't and Tony repeats himself, whispering this time. "What do you mean, Fri?"

"Aside from a few short naps, Peter didn't sleep from Tuesday to Friday."

"Why?" he manages through gritted teeth.

"Peter was working on his suit, boss. The suit was damaged on Tuesday night and he wanted to fix it."

Tony's mouth falls open. There are thousands of questions running wild in his head and he honestly doesn't know which one he should ask first. He must look really shocked because Bruce places a hand on his arm and guides him to a chair, helping him sit down. From the corner of his eye, he can see his friend taking a seat next to him.

"Friday, tell us everything, please, from the beginning," Bruce says and Tony feels grateful that the scientist has taken the lead. He isn't sure if he could speak coherently just yet.

"Like I said, Dr. Banner, on Tuesday night Peter returned from patrol with a damaged suit. He believed he could fix it himself and he was working on it every night. He finally finished early this morning, at 6.21am. He went straight to bed then."

"But he kept going out as Spiderman with the broken suit, too," Tony interjects. Friday would have told him if Peter had stayed home. Not that he would be sure about it anymore.

"Yes, boss. Peter believed the damage wasn't that bad."

"What was it exactly?" he asks, leaning back and crossing his arms.

"There was a problem with Karen's audio system. She couldn't communicate with Peter properly."

"And that wasn't bad enough to keep him put?" Tony asks in shock, giving an unbelieving look to Peter's sleeping form on the couch. He folds his head in his arms. "Why didn't you tell me anything, Fri? What's your excuse?"

"Peter assured me that it was only a minor malfunction and he could handle it. He didn't want to bother you, boss. And you had a very busy week, you didn't need more stress," the AI explains calmly.

Tony shakes his head in disbelief and hides his face behind his hands. He can already see the scene unfolding in front of his eyes. Peter returned from patrol with a damaged suit. He freaked out. He felt guilty and didn't want Tony to know what had happened. So he convinced both Friday and himself that Tony didn't have to know about it at all. It was better if they didn't bother him. And Friday, whose top priority is Tony's well-being, agreed. Which left Peter alone with the problem. Until he literally collapsed.

The image of a desperate and terrified Peter working all night in his room instead of sleeping leaves Tony upset. It was extremely dangerous and reckless of him to patrol exhausted and in a ruined suit and Tony can't imagine why the kid thought it was a good idea. And what about school? How didn't he fall asleep during class? Ned might have been there for him. If Peter told him. Because this kid is damned good at keeping secrets and Ned? Tony likes that kid, really, but he didn't figure out that his best friend was a superhero and homeless for months.

But no. Tony can't blame anyone else but himself. He has just told Bruce that Peter is his responsibility now. Yeah, and he didn't notice anything, he didn't notice there was something bad, something huge bothering the kid. He wasn't there for him. He let his work distract him and take him away from Peter when he needed him. Yeah, Peter didn't come to him, he didn't ask for his help, but Tony should have known anyway. That's his job now, right? Looking after the kid. And he's doing a wonderful job.

"Tony?" Bruce's voice breaks into his thoughts.

"I'm just like my father," he groans, still hiding behind his hands.

"What? No, Tony! That's not true," the scientist claims.

Tony looks up at his friend unimpressed. "I was working all week and I wasn't there for the kid, Bruce."

"I'm sorry, Tony, I know you love blaming yourself for everything, but this isn't on you. I mean, yeah, maybe you should have spent more time with Peter, I don't know, I wasn't here, but he, Tony," Bruce says, pointing at the sleeping boy on the couch. "He should have told you what happened. He should have told you about the suit and he definitely shouldn't have patrol. He must have been exhausted. That was really irresponsible of him. On second thought, now I understand why you two get along so well."

"Very funny, Banner," Tony deadpans. "I guess I need to have a serious conversation with him."

"That's right. But wait until he's alert enough for that."

"Is he gonna be okay?" Tony asks leaning back again, watching the kid worriedly.

Bruce smiles. "Of course. He just needs to sleep, that's all." Then he pats his friend on the shoulder and gets up. "But I have a plane to catch, so I need to leave now, sorry. Call me if you need advice or just a listening ear, okay?"

"Thanks, man, I appreciate it," Tony replies. "I will definitely take up on your offer."

After Bruce leaves, Tony decides to do what he always does when he has a problem and doesn't know how to deal with it: he distracts himself with work. But instead of retreating into his lab, he stays in the kitchen because he can easily keep an eye on Peter from there. He knows it's stupid because he could always ask Friday to tell him when the kid wakes up, but after everything that happened, he feels reluctant to let the boy out of his eyesight just yet. He needs to see him to reassure himself that Peter is here safe and sound and not out on the streets, risking his life.

First, he reprograms Friday, so that Peter's well-being is just as important for the AI as Tony's. Then he reprograms her once again, making Peter top priority, coming before Tony. He creates a bunch of new protocols to protect the kid and he still feels dissatisfied because he knows it's impossible to make a protocol for every possible scenario. He knows he must have forgotten something. Even though there's a protocol now in case of a volcano eruption and a zombie apocalypse, too. When is a parent too protective, though? Is there such a thing at all?

Tony can't help wondering why the kid didn't come to him for help. He thought after the runaway incident, he made Peter understand that he isn't alone anymore and he could always count on Tony. He was obviously wrong. Maybe the boy was alone for too long and Tony should give him more time to get used to the new situation, to get used to the fact that he has someone in his corner now.

Maybe he just doesn't know the kid as much as he thought. Peter is still full of secrets and they both need time to get to know each other better.

Anyway. Protocols. By the time he runs out of ideas about how the world could end or how Peter could get hurt (which is pretty much the same thing according to Tony), it's early in the evening and the kid finally shows signs of waking up. His bed would have been much more comfortable, but he didn't even stir in his sleep on the couch. Yeah, result of four sleepless nights in a row. But now he groans and slowly sits up, looking around in the room confused until he spots Tony at the kitchen table.

"Good morning, Peter," the man greets him. "It's good to see you're back in the land of the living."

The situation reminds Tony of the day when he brought the kid to the Tower after he had been shot. He remembers how confused Peter looked when he woke up in the med bay and saw Tony sitting in his room. He was confused because he didn't know what had happened exactly and how much Tony knew. Pretty much like now.

"Mr.-Mr. Stark," Peter all but stutters. "What… what time is it?"

"It's 5.54pm," the man replies, glancing at the clock on the wall. "How are you feeling?"

"Tired," the boy answers, closes his eyes and drops back on the couch.

"I bet," Tony smirks, getting up and walking to the couch. He sits down on the coffee table. He wants to be as close to the kid as possible. "I guess that's what a few sleepless nights do to you."

Peter peers an eye open and watches Tony suspiciously. "Friday?" he asks.

"Well, she didn't say anything until I asked her. I mean I know you like sleeping in on weekends, but falling asleep in the middle of Bruce's lecture has been a whole new level." Tony can't help smiling when Peter's face turns red. "Anyway, it looks like Friday agreed with you that it was perfectly fine not to tell me about your problem with the suit. To protect me. Which is bullshit, kid. You don't have to protect me. As an adult, it's my job to protect you. To help you. Whatever happens."

The boy sighs and sits up. He looks Tony in the eyes and opens his mouth to say something but then he shakes his head and lowers his head instead.

The man waits for Peter to change his mind and speak up, but he doesn't. "Hey, I'm not mad," he says, trying to comfort him. That makes the kid look up at him immediately. He looks hopeful and puzzled at the same time. "Okay, I'm a bit mad," Tony clarifies. Peter frowns. "Listen, kid, patrolling after what had happened on Tuesday night was extremely reckless, you have to give me that."

"No offense, Mr. Stark, but I had started patrolling before you made me this suit. Karen might have been mute, which really sucked, but I could manage."

"I didn't mean Karen, kid. I meant you must have been exhausted. Patrolling was awfully dangerous in your condition. You should be more responsible than that. You should have stayed in."

"It's not like criminals would take the day off just because I'm not out there," Peter scoffs.

"And it's not like you could help anyone if you're down, kid, don't you think?" Tony snaps back, narrowing his eyes.

Peter stares at him pouting but keeps his mouth shut. Not that he could contradict Tony.

The tension in the room is palpable.

The man sighs. This is not how he wanted this conversation to go. He didn't want a fight. Yes, Peter needs to understand that he was reckless, took an unnecessary risk and he should never ever put himself into danger like that. But Tony wants a peaceful conversation and not a fight. He needs to be the calm one here. Gosh, this whole parenting thing is really, really challenging. Tony Stark being calm. Ridiculous. But if he also starts pouting that won't take them anywhere, right?

"Nice work, on the suit, by the way," he says, trying to ease the tension. He checked earlier. He had to be sure if it was safe enough for Peter to use it.

The boy instantly stops with the sulking, his face lighting up. "Th-thanks, Mr. Stark."

"Fixing it would have taken much less time if you had told me, though," Tony continues. Peter's smile fades away, but the man ignores it. This is the truth and the kid needs to hear it. "We could have repaired the damage together and you wouldn't have had to miss bedtime. I guess these last few days must have been pretty tough for you."

The boy just shrugs. Tony gives him a sad smile. The kid would never admit how much he must have suffered due to the lack of sleep.

"I thought you liked tinkering with me in the lab," the man laughs nervously. Come on, kid, say something. Tell me why you didn't come to me. Why you couldn't trust me.

Peter stares down, fidgeting with the hem of his sleeve. But Tony decides not to give up. He will wait patiently until the kid gives him an explanation. Yes, he needs sleep, lots of sleep to compensate for the previous nights, but Tony doesn't care. Peter can sleep once he tells him why the hell he didn't ask for help.

And his patience pays off. Peter's eyes suddenly shoot up at him, tears shimmering in them. "I ruined the suit, Mr. Stark! You made that suit for me and I ruined it! I should have been more careful, I should have dodged that hit, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Mr. Stark!"

Tony staggers back. That's Peter's problem? He just worried about the damage? Did he feel guilty for ruining the suit? Or was he worried about what Tony would say? But who cares about the damned suit?

Obviously Peter does.

Tony leans closer, places both of his hands on the boy's knees and looks into his eyes, giving him a reassuring smile. "Oh, kid. That's why I made the suit for you. So that it takes hits instead of you. So that it protects you. I don't care if it gets damaged. I can always make a new suit for you. No problem. What matters is you. Only you, you hear me? Your safety, your health. That's the only thing I care about. Suits get ruined all the time. Don't you know how many suits I have?" he chuckles.

That makes Peter smile. He wipes the tears away with the sleeves of his hoodie. "So you're not mad at me for damaging the suit?"

Tony looks the boy in the eye. He can see doubt and uncertainty radiating off of Peter. Geez, the kid really doesn't believe that Tony doesn't care about the damned suit but only about him!

He rolls his eyes, gets up and settles on the couch next to Peter. He puts an arm around his shoulders. "No, I'm not mad at you about the suit. But like I said I'm a bit mad at you for putting yourself into danger, kid. That's not okay."

The boy nods and leans his head on the man's shoulder, eyes closing. Tony smiles and kisses the top of his head. The kid probably understands now that the man is not mad about the suit like he thought and he must feel relieved enough to doze off again. Which is fine with Tony. It's only Saturday night. They can stay like this until Monday morning, right?

But only after a minute or two, Friday speaks up. Or whispers, not wanting to wake up Peter. "Boss, there's an incoming call."

"Ignore," the man shrugs. Whoever it is, it doesn't matter. Not when the most important person is right here beside him.

"Boss, he insists," Friday tries again.

"And I insist-"

"It's Director Fury, boss."

Chapter Text

"I think you should go."

"And I think I shouldn't. Barton and Romanoff can handle this just fine."

"Then why did Director Fury call you?"

"Because he worries too much. And because I'm the closest Avenger right now."

"So he didn't call you because a stupid drug lord kidnapped an engineer from Oscorp and forced him to build some crazy aggressive robots to defeat his rivals?"

"I'm sure Barton can deactivate those robots if he hits them at their weak spots with his little arrows."

"But how will he know where those weak spots are?"

"I don't know, Peter, he will improvise!" Mr. Stark groans in frustration. "Eat your food, kid."

The tension in the room has been palpable since Peter woke from his nap. When he opened his eyes only after a few hours of sleep, he found Mr. Stark pacing up and down frustrated. Clearly, something happened while Peter was sleeping. Although the man tried to deny it first, he was way too upset to successfully pretend that everything was just fine. He finally told Peter that Director Fury wanted him to go on a mission. Which he refused right away. And has ignored the Director's calls ever since.

So here they are now, eating spaghetti and arguing about the mission. A perfect Saturday night at the Tower.

"It's not like you need to go to the other side of the world, it's only Mexico, you can come home in a few hours," Peter claims with his mouth full.

"I wouldn't go, even if it was Jersey, kid. Let it go," Mr. Stark says tiredly.

But of course, Peter can't move on. Doesn't want to.

"Are you even allowed to say no to Director Fury?"

"Well, I just did," the man shrugs, not even looking up at the boy.

Peter narrows his eyes. "You don't want to go because of me."

"Obviously," Mr. Stark replies, focusing on his plate. Then his eyes finally shoot up at Peter. "Is it such a bad thing that I want to stay with you, huh?"

Peter puts down his fork and leans back in his chair. "It is if I'm the reason why you don't want to help your friends."

Mr. Stark shakes his head and drops his own fork. He clasps his hands and looks Peter in the eyes. "Listen, kid, I don't want to leave you, alright? Even if every Avenger in the whole damned universe came here to beg me. I just don't want to go, okay? I was way too busy and distracted in the last few days and look what happened?"

The boy sighs and lowers his head. "No, Mr. Stark, that thing with the suit… that's, that's on me, not on you. What I did was stupid-"

"So you are aware of that. Good," the man interjects.

Peter rolls his eyes. "Listen, Mr. Stark, I don't want you to say no to this mission because of me. Knowing that Mr. Barton and Ms. Romanoff could get into trouble because you're staying with me, they could get into trouble because of me-"

"They're very capable Avengers, you know that, right? I mean it's not gonna be their first mission or something, they're not exactly amateurs."

"That's not the point!" the boy exclaims frustrated.

Mr. Stark sighs and runs his hands through his hair. "I know."

"I'll be fine," Peter says quickly, guessing he's close to victory now. "I'm still very tired so I will probably just sleep until Monday. Nothing extraordinary. I promise."

The man gives him a doubtful look. "You're not going to patrol?"

"I guess that would be a bit dangerous given how exhausted I am."

"No shit, kid," Mr. Stark scoffs.

Peter grins. "It's kinda ironic, though that I'm staying in tonight, when the suit is finally fixed-"

"Uh-uh," the man suddenly raises a hand. "You said you wouldn't go. You can't take it back now."

"Fine," Peter smiles. "I'm not going out. I hope Queens will survive."

"You're not going out until I return," Mr. Stark confirms.

The boy raises a brow. First, he wants to remind Mr. Stark that he had been Spiderman before they met and he had been doing just fine, thank you very much, but then he realizes the man has basically agreed that he would go on the mission.

"Alright," he says. "No Spiderman until you return. Which will be in a day, right? Maybe two? And I will be sleeping anyway, so it's no big deal."

Mr. Stark nods, but Peter can see he still doesn't like the idea of leaving. It's written all over his face. But he doesn't say anything. Then he pulls out his phone. "I'm texting Happy. He's gonna stay here with you while I'm gone."

"What? Why?" the boy asks annoyed, leaning forward. "Is it really necessary?"

"Yes," Mr. Stark answers simply while typing on his phone.

"I'll be fine! Like I said I'd be sleeping all the time. And it's not that I could burn down the Tower with Friday in the house. Don't you trust me?" he asks desperately.

Mr. Stark peeks up from his phone and quirks an eyebrow. The look on his face is clear. Peter groans, leans back in the chair again and crosses his arms. He knows it's pathetic that he's pouting here because he has really given Mr. Stark a reason not to trust him entirely. Even though he had a good reason no to tell him about the suit.

"Okay, Happy's gonna be here in an hour," Mr. Stark announces satisfied and picks up his fork again. After a few bites, he gives Peter a questioning look. "Aren't you eating?"

The boy frowns but grabs his own fork anyway and reluctantly starts eating the now cold spaghetti. "Just so you know, asking Happy to watch me sleep is creepy," he grumbles.

"I'll ask him to send me photos every ten minutes," Mr. Stark grins.

An hour later, Mr. Stark emerges from his room dressed in all black, with a duffel bag in his hand. Curled up on the couch, Peter is scrolling on his phone. He can't stop yawning and he can hardly keep his eyes open, but he promised himself to stay awake until Mr. Stark leaves. He looks up from his phone and watches the man throwing some protein bars into his bag in the kitchen.

"I thought there were always tons of snacks on the jet," he remarks hesitantly.

"Yeah, but with Barton on board, there's never enough," Mr. Stark replies, grabbing some candy bars, too.

"Hey, those are mine!" Peter protests.

"Do you want me to go or not?" Mr. Stark asks, not even turning to him. He snatches some more bars. There's no way the man could eat that much sugar in a day. As if he's packing for a week.

"Fine," the boy answers defeated. "Do you want this, too?" he asks holding up a small pack of candies that he has just opened.

He's joking, of course, but to his utter astonishment, Mr. Stark quickly strides to the couch and takes the bag from his hand. "Thanks, kid."

Eyes widened in shock, the boy watches the pack slip into the duffel bag and he swallows hard. However, he exactly knows what this is about. This is just Mr. Stark's childish way to show how much he hates the idea of leaving Peter behind at the Tower. And seeing this makes the boy so happy that he doesn't really mind the unexpected loss of those snacks.

"I could go with you, you know," Peter remarks. Of course he knows what Mr. Stark's answer is going to be even before the man opens his mouth.

"No," Mr. Stark states firmly. Exactly what Peter expected. But he had to try.

"I could help."

"It's still a no," the man confirms, zipping his bag.

"Actually, I would be the only enhanced one in the team," the boy grins. "Could help you, vulnerable humans."

Of course, Peter is fully aware that just because he has powers that Mr. Stark, Mr. Barton and Ms. Romanoff lack, they are not exactly a bunch of rookies either. They are Avengers, after all. And Peter isn't.

Mr. Stark turns around to face him. "And here I thought a smart teenager like you was absolutely capable of understanding the meaning of such a short word. N-O. Should be easy. How did you get those excellent grades at school? Did you cheat or something? Should I talk to your teachers? Seriously, kid, I'm really concerned now."

Peter rolls his eyes and reaches for the remote control. Then another thought hits him and his hand stops midair. "Does Director Fury know about me?"

Mr. Stark raises an eyebrow. "Do you mean if he knows about Spiderman? I don't think there's anyone on the planet who doesn't know Spiderman, kid."

"Yeah, but does he know I am Spiderman? Does he know I'm staying here, with you?"

"Definitely not," the man claims, waving him off. As if the mere idea is ridiculous.

"How can you be so sure?" Peter asks doubting.

"If Fury knew, he'd be already here," Mr. Stark shrugs.

The boy slowly nods. "Well… that makes sense, I guess."

The man gives him one of his trademark smug looks, the one that says he's always right.

Then Friday's voice interrupts their conversation.

"Boss, Mr. Barton is on his way here," she states.

Mr. Stark winces and his eyes shoot to the elevator doors, waiting for them to open any moment. "Why is he coming here? We're supposed to meet on the roof, where the jet is," he complains. He grabs his bag. "Friday, stop-"

"It's too late, Stark," a cheerful voice comes from the elevator and Clint Barton steps out. He's also dressed in all black and there's a backpack over his shoulder. Peter can't help wondering where his bow and arrows are. Maybe already on the jet.

Mr. Barton immediately spots him on the couch and gives him a look that the boy can't quite comprehend. Peter thought whichever Avenger showed up at the Tower – which would happen sooner or later, he thought – they would be surprised, even shocked to find a strange kid here. Because as far as he knows, Mr. Stark hasn't broken the news about him to the Avengers. Except for Dr. Banner, of course. But Mr. Barton doesn't look surprised. No, he just looks curious, genuinely interested. And he even gives Peter a small smile.

He's about to take a step closer, when Mr. Stark grabs his arm and pulls him away, back toward the elevator.

"We're leaving now," Mr. Stark states and it's unclear who he's speaking to. Probably both to Peter and the archer.

Before the elevator doors could close, Mr. Barton glances at the boy again. He opens his mouth to say something, but Mr. Stark speaks up again. "Happy will be here soon, go to sleep, kid."

Mr. Barton gives Peter a small wave and another mysterious smile and Mr. Stark looks at the Avenger as if he wants to strangle him. Then the elevator doors close and Peter is left all alone in the penthouse.

The next morning, Peter walks into the kitchen, still feeling extremely exhausted. It takes a lot of effort to keep his eyes open but he has to, he really doesn't want to walk into a wall or something. His spider sense might warn him, but the boy believes even that poor sense of his is tired, so he doesn't really trust it now.

He opens a cabinet to grab some cereals and then milk from the refrigerator. It would be much better if Mr. Stark was here, making breakfast for him. Maybe pancakes instead of waffles this time. Yeah, some blueberry pancakes would be so nice. Aunt May was never a talented cook and she didn't really make fancy breakfasts for Peter, never anything more complicated than toasts. But Mr. Stark is really good at breakfast food.

Well, no Mr. Stark this morning, so no fancy breakfast either. The sacrifice that Peter has to make for the world, right? Missing out breakfast with the man so that he can save the world again. Or defeat some crazy drug lord but hey, it's not like aliens want to destroy the planet every day. Thank God.

Munching on his boring cereals, Peter glances over at the couch. His babysitter, Happy is peacefully sleeping there. And snoring. Yesterday was his day off and when Mr. Stark called him, he probably didn't have time to change into his uniform, aka a black suit because now he's wearing jeans and a hoodie. Which seems really, really weird because Peter has never seen the man wear anything else but a suit.

Happy was grumbling much more than usual when he arrived at the Tower last night and he couldn't stop shooting murderous looks to Peter. The boy tried to explain that it wasn't his idea to call him; he would have been just fine on his own. But Happy didn't want to listen to him; he just settled on the couch, grabbed the remote and turned on the TV.

And Peter went to bed. True to his word, he didn't go out to patrol last night. Yes, he was way too tired, but he had been tired on the previous nights, too and he had still gone out. But this time he made a promise to Mr. Stark. Peter has never been keen on breaking promises anyway, but this one is different. This one is very important. Because he made it to Mr. Stark. And Peter tries not to do anything to get on the man's bad side.

Like when he ruined the suit. He remembers how worried he was, he was absolutely certain that Mr. Stark would kick him out. But surprisingly, the man didn't really care about the broken suit. He didn't mind that Peter had damaged it. He seemed more worried about the boy's safety. Which Peter still finds unbelievable. Okay, it's fine that Mr. Stark worries about him, it feels really good that there is someone worrying about him, since Aunt May's death he's the first person who actually seems to care and worry about him.

But how is it possible that Mr. Star didn't care about the suit? The amazing suit that is worth a fortune and that Mr. Stark put a lot of work into. And it's not like the man puts that much work into something that is not important to him.

Peter remembers that he damaged the suit many times before, when he wasn't staying here at the Tower. Mostly while fighting criminals but also when he found out who had killed May. He was really upset, absolutely furious and couldn't stop punching the wall until the suit practically raveled apart over his knuckles. Yeah, that was… a bad night.

Back then he didn't really worry about those damages. Truth is one of the reasons why he never took up on Mr. Stark's offer to come to the Tower to fix the suit was that he didn't want the man to know that he had broken it. Even though it would be absolutely unrealistic to expect a superhero not to damage his suit. Like never.

And although losing Karen's voice seemed like a much more serious damage than anything that had happened to the suit before, that's not the reason why Peter freaked out.

When he was staying alone in the warehouse, things were easier in a way. If Mr. Stark had been mad at Peter for ruining his suit in a fight, he would have just taken it back, right? And they would have never seen each other again. Simple.

But now? He has so much more to lose. If he makes a mistake, Mr. Stark might kick him out. He would be back on the streets. Yes, Mr. Stark told him he would never do that but the man certainly didn't have any idea how much trouble Peter could be. The boy is pretty sure Mr. Stark couldn't forgive or accept everything. If he made a really big mistake, the man would probably send him away, no matter what he said earlier. And yes, Peter knows he would manage, why wouldn't he? He has been there, done that.

But… thing is he doesn't want that. He doesn't want to leave. He doesn't want to leave this place behind. And most of all, he doesn't want to leave Mr. Stark behind. In the short amount of time that he's spent here, this place has become home. And this time home doesn't mean the place where he stays. It's not like the warehouse was. This penthouse is more than a place, it's safety, warmth, happiness.

Peter squeezes his eyes shut. No, he shouldn't feel that. He shouldn't even think that. Because knowing his luck, he will do something really stupid, more stupid than running away or ruining the suit and then… then Mr. Stark will really change his mind about keeping him and he will kick him out or even worse, he will call CPS and let them take him to a shitty foster family.

He swallows hard and pushes away his bowl. He has lost his appetite. He looks around in the room, taking in every little detail as if memorizing everything so that he can remember this place when it won't be his home anymore. When Mr. Stark will realize how much trouble Peter really is and how much easier his life was without him and he decides that he wants it back.

Peter will have to leave; he knows it's just a matter of time.

It sucks.

Because he really loves this place.

Chapter Text

"He seems like a good kid."

"He is a good kid. A very good one."

Tony and Clint are sitting on the jet, heading to Mexico. Natasha will meet them there; actually she's been there for three days now to assess the situation.

Tony is absentmindedly gazing out of the small window, staring at the empty black sky around them and eating a candy bar that he stole from Peter's stash. He's eaten only half of the bar when he gives up and throws it away. Geez, how much sugar is in this stuff? Not to mention the tons of artificial ingredients based on the weird taste. Could this be the reason why the kid is always so twitchy and can't stop talking? Is he on a constant sugar high because of his shitty snacks? When he gets back, he'll teach him how to make a proper smoothie. Something that is healthy and actually has a normal taste.

"And how are you two getting on?" Clint tries again. Tony knows the archer wants to know everything about Peter and he doesn't blame him. He remembers how shocked Clint was when he revealed that he had taken in a kid and asked for Clint's advice.

But then he remembers another thing. There's another Avenger who knows about Peter and just a very short time ago he asked Tony the very same thing. How he and Peter were getting on. And what did Tony answer? That everything was okay. And then it turned out that Peter had been in serious trouble for days and he had been successfully hiding it from Tony. Yeah, it was really okay.

"Honestly?" he shrugs. "I don't know, man. I really don't know. Sometimes it seems everything's fine and then something happens and it turns out there's trouble in paradise."

Clint snorts. "That's parenting for ya, dude, you can never rest, trust me. Your life as you know it is over. For good." He grabs Tony's bag and searches through it until he pulls out a candy bar in a neon pink wrapper.

"Sure, be my guest, please," Tony grimaces. "And thanks for the encouragement. You make parenting sound like a life sentence. You don't seem that much stressed, though."

"Because being a dad isn't only about worrying all the time and putting out fires 24/7," Clint explains with his mouth full. "There are also joys. Tons of happiness. Love. So you wouldn't change it for the world. Just think about it, man. You're saying Peter's trouble sometimes, but would you ever get rid of him? To make your life less difficult?"

"Of course not! Never," Tony claims without hesitation. The mere idea is ridiculous. Absurd.

"There you go," the other man grins and grabs another candy. "And you've known him for what? A few months? He's already grown on you. And it's a really nice feeling."

"It really is," Tony agrees smiling. "But Peter makes it easy. I mean yes, it's not always perfect but he's a wonderful kid. So smart and kind. All that shit that happened to him didn't break him. It's a miracle. He has such a good heart. And he has no idea how strong and brave he is. He thinks it's only Spiderman, but no, Peter Parker is just as strong and brave. Maybe even more so. Because he went through so much and he's still standing. He's still a great kid no matter what life threw at him."

They sit in silence for a few minutes and Tony turns back to the dark sky and relives his time with Peter at the Tower. The lazy breakfasts. The tinkering in the lab. The movie marathons. He's lost in his memories and the only thing that reminds him that he's not with the kid at the Tower but on a jet heading to a mission is the irritating sound of Barton munching on Peter's candies.

"You know," Clint starts again between two bites. "I feel really hurt that you didn't let me meet the kid, Stark. I want to get to know him. After everything you told me about him. And the others will want to meet him too. You can't keep him locked up at the Tower forever."

"I know. I just don't want to overwhelm him."

"Why would meeting us overwhelm him?" the archer asks staggered.

Tony lifts an eyebrow and gives him a disbelieving look.

Clint raises his hands in defeat. "Okay, okay, I see your point. But. I still want to meet him."

"Later, okay? Just a few weeks ago when he thought things were changing too fast for his liking, he ran away."

"He did what?" Barton asks in shock. He even stops chewing.

"It wasn't that bad, I mean of course it was bad, I freaked out, kid disappeared into thin air. Thankfully, I quickly realized he was hiding in the creepy warehouse he had been staying before. And we had a nice talk. Turned out changes usually equaled loss in his life and moving to the Tower scared the shit out of him."

The archer furrows his brow in an attempt to understand what Tony has just said. "Hold on for a sec. Huh. He freaked out because he had to leave the streets behind to move into a luxurious penthouse?"

Tony gives him a small smile. "I told you. He's a great kid. And money literally means nothing to him. Which is really weird, right?"

"I understand why you want to protect him at all costs, Stark, I really do. You're in full parent mode as you should be now that you actually have a kid," Clint grins leaning back in his seat. He lets out a big breath, eyeing the half a dozen candy bar wrappers on his lap.

"Well, but I'm not doing a very good job, I'm afraid," Tony frowns peeking out the window again.

"What do you mean, dude?" the other Avenger asks narrowing his eyes.

"You told me to create a safe environment so that Peter could trust me, he could turn to me whenever he needed help," Tony reminds him still gazing out of the window.

Barton waits for him to continue but when he doesn't, the archer grows impatient. "Yeah, and?"

Tony turns back to him and shrugs his shoulders. "And he ran away when he didn't feel good. And when he damaged his suit the other day, he decided to fix it himself instead of asking for my help. He doesn't feel safe with me, man, he doesn't feel that he can trust me."

He shakes his head in defeat and turns back to the window.

He always knew that it wouldn't be easy, raising a kid is a little bit more complicated than having a pet or something and he has never done that either. Peter is such a precious kid and Tony has always been afraid that he would fail, that he would mess up the kid's life, this was the reason why he didn't want to make this huge decision for such a long time. He has always known he's not good at family. It might have been Howard's fault, it might have been his, probably both. But fact is he sucks at the family stuff. And that's why it might haven't been such a good idea to take Peter in. Kid needs a home where he actually feels safe and where he can trust people. And maybe that home is not at the Tower.

But before Tony could sink deeper into his depressive thoughts, he hears an odd sound. Clint chuckles. Is the archer laughing at him? Does he find it funny that Tony screwed up? He took a kid in, he just wanted to help him, to end his suffering, to make his life at least a little bit better and he failed. Royally. Does Barton really think it's funny? Fuck him.

"Screw you, Barton," he hisses at him.

"I'm sorry, man, sorry, I shouldn't laugh, I know," the archer apologizes but Tony can still hear him giggle, so he doesn't bother to turn back to him. At least, the black sky doesn't make fun of him.

Then Clint clears his throat and speaks up. "Sorry, really," he says and this time he sounds calm.

Still, Tony prefers the window and remains motionless.

"Stark, you should understand that parenting isn't a short process," Barton explains not minding that Tony doesn't look at him. "I gave you advice, yes, I told you to make the kid feel safe. But if you thought you could do it in a few days or weeks, you were seriously wrong. I mean raising a child is a lifelong job; it never ends, not even when the kids grow up. If you think one day you can just lean back satisfied, saying, "yes, my job here is done, the kid is all good now", you're mistaken. Yes, you need to create a safe environment. And you need to work on that every single day. And I'm not saying it to freak you out, no, I'm saying it because I want you to understand you haven't failed because you're not finished. And you will never be. So relax, man, chill. You're not done yet."

Barton must be right. He has kids; he has much more experience in raising children than Tony. He should believe him, trust his opinion. That's why he called him when Peter moved in, right?

He sighs and pinching the bridge of his nose, he glances at the other man. "I hate that since I took Peter in it's always you who calms me down. And Bruce. Still. As if you have some kind of freaking power over me and I hate it."

Clint snorts and grabs his water bottle from his bag. "Anyway, you mentioned a suit, right? I saw Spiderman on the news and that suit is awesome, Stark. Is there any chance that you adopt me and make a cool suit for me, too?" he asks and takes a sip from the bottle.

Tony laughs and waves him off. "Don't hold your breath, Robin Hood. And I didn't adopt the kid."

"You didn't?"

"No, I'm his guardian. I want to adopt him, I do, that's the plan, but I want to discuss it with him, I want to involve him and I don't want to decide this over his head."

"That's a great move to prove him that he can trust you," the archer praises.

But Tony shakes his head. "No, I'm not doing this to make him trust me. I'm doing this because this is the right thing to do. That's all."

"Hey, kid, did I wake you up?" Tony asks with a big smile on his face and a mug of steaming coffee in his hands.

"No," Peter answers, but in the next second, a huge yawn gives him away.

"Sorry," the man chuckles, glancing at his watch. It's only 8pm in New York, but after his eventful week, the boy must be still very tired. "How are you?"

"Fine, Mr. Stark. Like I said, mostly asleep."

"What, no movie marathon with Happy?"

Peter snorts. "Happy should really change his name to Grumpy or something."

"Don't take it personal, kid. He really likes you; he's just… not so good at showing it."

The boy laughs and his laughter turns into another yawn. "Anyway, I guess you're calling because you're not coming home tonight, right?"

"Correct. I'm so sorry, Peter. Romanoff believes it would be better to attack these idiots tomorrow morning. And as she has made it clear that the mission requires only the incredible powers of my suit and not my even more incredible brainpower, I have no say in this."

He takes a look around in the safe house where he's currently staying with the other two Avengers. It's practically a crappy shed at the end of someone's backyard, someone who Natasha finds trustworthy enough. There's a table with four chairs, a small kitchen with a tiny, old refrigerator and two cots in the corners. Why do safe houses always have to be like this? Dirty, old places without proper furniture and basic hygiene? Why can't it be a hotel suite or something? Tony would certainly blend in much better at the Four Seasons because here, in this slum he definitely stands out.

But this is undoubtedly Natasha's mission, she's the boss, she made that clear, too. And now that he's here, Tony has decided to obey. The sooner they get over with this stupid job, the sooner he can get back to Peter, right?

"So. I'm sorry, kid. It's gonna take one more day," he states, folding his head in his arms.

"Don't worry about it, Mr. Stark. It's okay, I'm good," the boy promises. "But are you okay? I mean the mission. Those crazy big robots. Are you gonna be alright?"

Tony smiles. "It's nothing we can't handle," he assures Peter. He remembers the Battle of New York. This is going to be a piece of cake compared to that.

There's a strange sound in the background and it takes him a few seconds until he figures it out. It's Peter typing on a keyboard and suddenly, a scary thought hits him. "Kid, I know you're worried about me, I appreciate it, I really do but please, please, don't hack Friday to gather info on the mission."

"What? No, no, Mr. Stark, no, I'm not… I'm not doing… that," the boy stutters. Even though they're on the phone, Tony is absolutely sure that the kid's face is turning bright red right now. Peter couldn't lie to save his life.

"Seriously, kid. Don't. I'll tell you everything I can when we get back. Tomorrow. I promise. Please, don't make me turn off the power at the Tower," he says but his voice lacks any strictness.

He can hear the boy sigh in defeat. "Okay, Mr. Stark."

"I know, I know. No Spiderman, Happy as a babysitter and now you can't even play hacker. What a boring childhood! I feel really sorry for you, Peter," the man says teasingly, sipping his coffee. Then he frowns because this drink– whatever it is – is nowhere close to the coffee he usually drinks at the Tower. It might have something to do with the sad truth that this time there's no fidgety boy rambling on the other side of the table while he's drinking it.

"Haha, very funny, Mr. Stark," Peter answers and probably rolls his eyes, too. Then he yawns again.

"Go back to sleep, kid," Tony says smiling.

"I think I will, Mr. Stark," the boy agrees, sounding sleepy. "Come home soon. Please."

"I will, Peter, I will."

Chapter Text

True to his word, a day later Mr. Stark and his merry team arrive at the Tower. More or less in one piece.

When Peter says goodbye to Ned after school and approaches the familiar black Audi parking nearby, the window on the driver side slowly rolls down and reveals Mr. Stark grinning at him. With a huge smile, Peter quickly gets in the car and immediately envelops the man in a tight hug.

"You're back," he murmurs into his shirt.

"I am," Mr. Stark answers, rubbing circles on the boy's back.

After a few seconds, when Peter is sure that it's not just a dream and Mr. Stark is really here, he pulls back and eyes the man suspiciously. He discovers a few smaller cuts on Mr. Stark's face and he can see that his left wrist is bandaged.

"Are you okay?" he asks worried.

"Of course I am. Just a few scratches. I'm Iron Man, don't forget that, kid," Mr. Stark replies confidently and starts the engine.

"And what about Ms. Romanoff and Mr. Barton?"

"Well, Clint has a broken arm and some pretty bad bruises. Natasha has some more serious injuries, but nothing life-threatening, don't worry. She'll be good in no time."

Peter narrows his eyes, trying to decide if he can actually believe the man. Is Mr. Stark sugarcoating what happened in Mexico? Should he have asked Friday after all? No, he would never break his promise to Mr. Stark.

The man looks at him and gives him a big, reassuring smile and then asks if Peter wants to have an ice cream. Or cheeseburgers first and then ice cream. "As for me, I could kill for a cheeseburger. I missed good old-fashioned American food," he explains.

"Mr. Stark, you were away for less than 48 hours," the boy reminds him in mock annoyance.

"Seemed like an eternity," the man says, glancing at Peter with a sad smile on his face.

Five cheeseburgers and three ice creams later, they are on their way back to the Tower. The traffic is really bad and Mr. Stark suggested several times calling one of his suits to fly them home and leave the car behind. But he didn't do that and Peter is happy because sitting here in a car with Mr. Stark is actually really good. He can glance over at the man from time to time to make sure he's really here with him and not fighting some crazy drug lords with robots.

"So did you eat all my snacks on the jet?" Peter asks casually, while texting Ned that Mr. Stark came home. "I hope it was enough."

Earlier, Ned invited him over to play video games and as Peter wasn't sure if the Avengers' mission would be really accomplished by today, he accepted the invitation. But now that Mr. Stark's back, he needs to cancel their plans. He has no doubts that Ned will understand, but he will definitely demand details on the mission.

"Actually, it was mostly Barton who ate them," Mr. Stark explains. "And fear not, kid, I have already told Friday to order a bunch of your sugary poisons. Your stock will be refilled."

"Thanks, Mr. Stark."

"And speaking of the archer, I have a confession to make, kid," the man says, eyes focusing on the road ahead of them.

Peter turns to him and lifts an eyebrow. That's interesting. What could Mr. Stark possibly confess to him? Considering how nervous the man looks, it must be something big.

Suddenly, a terrifying thought arises in the boy's mind. What if this is it? The moment he's been afraid of. When Mr. Stark finally realizes how easier his life could be without Peter and decides he doesn't want to deal with him anymore.

It might have been because of the mission. It would have been much easier for Mr. Stark if he hadn't had to worry about Peter all along. He must have been a distraction for the man and Mr. Stark might have decided that being an Avenger was a fulltime job and he couldn't afford any distraction. With Peter in his life, he can't be the focused, dedicated hero that the world needs.

Funny, Peter always thought one day he would make a huge mistake, something that would make Mr. Stark realize that he's simply too much trouble to deal with. Peter didn't think that his simple existence would be the problem.

But then Mr. Stark's quiet, apologetic voice breaks into his depressive thoughts.

"I… I might have told about you to Barton, kid, I'm sorry," the man explains. "I mean I told him everything. Not just about Peter Parker but about Spiderman, too. I know it wasn't my secret to tell and I know how important your secret identity is to you, kid and I had no right, but… But you gotta understand, Peter. When you moved into the Tower, I freaked out! I already told you how worried I was because I had no experience with kids whatsoever and my family was crazy… And I was afraid that I would screw up. So I decided to ask for advice and Barton is the only Avenger who has kids, so logically, I turned to him. I told him everything and again, I'm so sorry, Peter. I really am."

The boy is frozen. When the man's rant is over, Peter remains silent, staring at Mr. Stark in absolute shock.

"Mr. Barton has kids?" he finally manages, flabbergasted.

Mr. Stark told him once that Mr. Barton was spending some time with his family, but somehow Peter didn't think that family meant kids. Maybe parents or siblings, but no kids. He couldn't really imagine that any of the Avengers might have kids. How cool that must be! To have a father who is an Avenger! It's almost like he and… No. They're not like that.

But Mr. Stark interrupts his train of thoughts when he turns to him, furrowing his brow. "Really? That's your take-away from all this? Yeah, Barton has kids. And a nice wife and an almost unreal farm. He has his own little paradise."

Peter frowns. His paradise? Is that what Mr. Stark dreams about? Settling down on a farm with a family? However, Peter is unable to imagine the man in the country, chopping wood or something. Yeah, that would be ridiculous. Mr. Stark anywhere else but in a city would be like fish out of water.

"Pete, are you still with me?" Mr. Stark asks, trying to get his attention.

"Yeah, yeah, sure, sorry," the boy jabbers. "Anyway, you don't have to worry about it, Mr. Stark. I mean about telling Mr. Barton. I get it. Allowing me to stay at the Tower was huge. For both of us, I guess. I understand you had to tell someone."

"Thanks, kid," Mr. Stark smiles.

"That explains why Mr. Barton was looking at me so weirdly at the Tower, though," Peter remembers.

"Yeah, guy's a creep, I know."

"It was a great relief to me when I shared my secret with Ned. So I get it. Mr. Barton is your Ned and everyone needs a Ned in his life."

But Mr. Stark shakes his head vehemently. "No, no, kid. My friendship with Barton, if we can call it a friendship at all, is nowhere close to what you have with Ned. Like I said, I told Barton because he was the logical choice. He's a good buddy, sure but definitely not my BFF." The man chuckles as if the mere idea is ridiculous.

"Well, I guess we'll have to tell the rest of the Avengers sooner or later, right? I mean I can't hide in your penthouse forever."

Mr. Stark looks at him from the corner of his eye. "Are you sure you'd be okay with that, kid? We can move to LA if you want."

Peter isn't really sure if the man is joking or not. His voice and look are very serious. Would he really leave his home behind for Peter? Not that LA would be so new to Mr. Stark, but would he really do that for him? It doesn't really matter though, because Peter would never want that anyway.

"Are you seriously asking me if I was okay with meeting Captain America, the Black Widow, Thor or Hawkeye?" he laughs. "Are you asking me if I was okay with meeting the Avengers, the greatest heroes on Earth?"

Mr. Stark rolls his eyes. "Okay, okay, fanboy, relax. As long as I'm your favorite Avenger, you can meet them."

"Don't worry, Mr. Stark, you're always gonna be my favorite," Peter answers honestly.

"Aw, kid, you're gonna make me cry," the man smiles and affectionately ruffles the boy's hair.

They quickly get back to the Tower and when the elevator doors finally open, they reveal someone casually lounging on the couch in the middle of the room. Clint Barton. He is sprawled out with a soda in one hand and the remote control in the other and whatever he's watching on the TV, it must be really boring because he actually looks half-asleep. But when Peter and Mr. Stark enter, his eyes shoot up at them and he gives them a huge smile. As if he's the owner of the place, welcoming guests and not the other way around.

"Uh, Friday, there's an intruder in my living room. Do you happen to know anything about it?" Mr. Stark asks and Mr. Barton rolls his eyes.

"According to my protocols, Mr. Barton isn't identified as an intruder," the AI calmly explains.

Peter can't decide if Friday didn't understand her boss's sarcasm or chose to ignore it. Probably the latter.

"Well, I might need to change your protocols, dear," Mr. Stark shrugs and turns to the other man. "It would have been nice of you to wait for an invitation, Barton."

"You know me, Stark, patience has never been my strong suit," Mr. Barton grins.

He steps closer to Peter and eyes him suspiciously. The boy doesn't know what to do. He's just standing there with his backpack in his hands. He feels like the latest attraction in the zoo.

"Oh, come on, Legolas, can't you see you're making the kid uncomfortable?" Mr. Stark complains, walking to the coffee maker.

As Mr. Barton doesn't give up on observing him, Peter decides to hold out a hand and introduce himself. "I'm P-Peter, Peter Parker, s-sir."

He immediately blushes because he's sure he hasn't made a good impression. Here is an Avenger standing in front of him, a hero with plenty of battles behind him, a fearless and brave warrior, a precise archer. And here is Peter Parker, a miserable schoolboy, stammering and fidgeting with the straps of his backpack. Peter feels so embarrassed that he would love to run into his room and hide there forever. He was so wrong when he thought he could handle meeting with the Avengers.

Mr. Barton grasps him on the shoulder and smiles. "Hello, Peter. I'm Clint. It's nice to finally meet you after all the things I've heard about you." He tilts his head toward Mr. Stark.

"Why are you really here, Barton?" Mr. Stark asks, returning from the kitchen with a mug in his hand.

"Well, I wanted to make sure that Peter here was alright. I mean living with you, Stark… must be tough. Poor kid."

Mr. Stark just rolls his eyes and makes his way to the couch.

But Peter doesn't know Mr. Barton that much, he doesn't know if he's joking or not. Does he really think it's bad for him to stay with Mr. Stark? Because it's not. On the contrary, it's awesome!

"You… you don't have to worry about me, Mr. Barton," he starts. "Really. I'm good. More than good, here with Mr. Stark. He's taking a good care of me. I'm… I'm really happy that I can stay here, sir, Mr. Stark is very nice to me."

Peter really hopes that the man believes him. He knows he sounded nervous and edgy and he hopes Mr. Barton won't think it was just some kind of speech and not the truth. Because it is the truth. He's so happy here.

Mr. Barton still has his hand on his shoulder and gives him an even bigger smile than before. Then he turns to the other man on the couch. "I like this one, Stark. Let's keep him."

"I've already decided to keep him, Barton", Mr. Stark reminds him frowning.

"Does he really call you Mr. Stark?" the archer asks and looks back at Peter.

The boy doesn't like that he's speaking of him as if he's not standing right here. Other than that, there's nothing wrong with their guest. Yeah, he might be a bit pushy and intense but he also looks like a funny, carefree, cool guy. Just like Peter always imagined Hawkeye.

"Yeah, and he calls you Mr. Barton, too," Mr. Stark says.

This time, Mr. Barton looks directly in Peter's eye. "Yeah, kid, don't do that. Just Clint, okay?" he winks at him and when Peter nods, he finally releases his shoulder and walks to the couch, flopping down beside Mr. Stark who doesn't seem to appreciate it and grimaces, moving a bit further from the archer.

The boy finally feels relaxed enough to put his backpack on a chair and walk to the refrigerator to grab a water bottle.

"Again, Barton why are you here?" Mr. Stark asks tiredly.

"I miss Nat," Mr. Barton, err, Clint announces dramatically, closing his eyes. Then he suddenly snaps them open and glances over at Peter. The kid freezes with the bottle in his hand. What is Clint implying?

"I need a sparring partner," the archer shrugs as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.

"No. No, no, no. Never," Mr. Stark protests vehemently and sets his mug on the coffee table harshly. Hot coffee splashes all over the table.

"Why? It's not like he started patrolling yesterday," Clint says.

"Peter has homework," Mr. Stark explains calmly.

The archer grins, obviously thinking homework is a pathetic excuse. He opens his mouth probably to provide a witty comeback, but Mr. Stark looks him in the eye and Peter can't see the man's face from his spot, but he can definitely see Clint's face. The Avenger, who he called fearless in his mind just a few minutes ago, is practically shrinking under Mr. Stark's stare. Geez, Peter hopes he'll never have to see that look!

Clint raises both of his hands in defeat. "Fine, whatever, Stark. I guess I need to wait until Nat recovers. Or Cap and Sam return. Whichever happens first." Then he gets up and sighs. "Okay, I'll be down at the gym if you need me."

He's already on his way to the elevator, when Mr. Stark calls after him. "You're welcome to join us for dinner."

Then he quickly looks at Peter as if he has just realized that he should have asked him first. The kid nods. He's not against it. It would be really nice to have Clint here for dinner. Watching him and Mr. Stark bantering is like watching a tennis match. It's gonna be so much fun!

Clint is already in the elevator when he turns back to them. "What's for dinner?"

"I don't know. I'll improvise," Mr. Stark shrugs.

"Cool," Clint chuckles. "That's my favorite."

And then the elevator doors close in front of him.

Chapter Text

The dinner with Mr. Stark and Mr. Barton – no, Clint – was really fun. Much more fun than Peter had expected. Because the men told him stories about missions, picking the craziest, weirdest ones. They were pretty eager to embarrass each other; actually it was like a competition, they tried to figure out who could embarrass the other more. There was a story when Hawkeye ran out of arrows and Iron Man had to save him from a throng of Hydra soldiers and he could only grab Clint's ankle, so he flew away with him while the archer was hanging in this not too elegant position, upside down. Clint retaliated with his own story: the one when Iron Man's suit malfunctioned on a particularly hot day in South Africa and Mr. Stark couldn't open it and Clint had to use an arrowhead to crack it open and let out a very sweaty engineer.

Yeah, it was an awesome night. Peter tried to memorize every little detail so that he could tell Ned later.

Then Clint said goodbye to them and went to sleep, saying he needed his beauty sleep, after all they had returned from Mexico only that morning. Mr. Stark also looked very tired and although he offered Peter to watch a movie together, he passed out on the couch only after a few minutes. Not that Peter minded. As long as Mr. Stark was here with him, safe and sound, he didn't mind that the man was sleeping.

But now the movie is over and Peter doesn't want to go to bed. He's been sleeping so much in the last few days that he definitely couldn't fall asleep now. He grabs the remote and flips through channels. Nothing seems to catch his attention though. That is until he can see huge flames on the screen. It's a report on a fire in an apartment building. Peter's eyes go wide when he realizes the burning building is only three blocks from the Tower. If he walked to the window, he could probably see the flames from here. On the TV he can see firefighters bringing out people from the building. Most of them seem only scared, coughing and looking up at the remains of their homes, but there are several injured people, too, surrounded by paramedics. The reporter says there are still several people in the building.

Peter sighs and glances over at the sleeping form of Mr. Stark. What should he do? Should he go out to help saving those people? It's not Queens, but it's not like Peter can be Spiderman only in Queens, right? He should help wherever help is needed.

But Mr. Stark definitely wouldn't be happy to find Peter gone when he wakes up. The man has just returned home and there had been that fiasco with Peter's suit before he left. But they're good now, right? And yes, Peter promised him not to go out to patrol but only until Mr. Stark returned. And now he's here, so even though they didn't talk about it, Peter can be Spiderman again, right? And those people need him.

Okay, it's settled then. Peter drapes a blanket over Mr. Stark, quietly promises that he would be back soon and runs into his room to grab his suit.

A minute later, Spiderman swings towards the fire.

In retrospect, it was a bad idea. A very bad one.

Okay, going to the fire, offering his help to the firefighters was a brilliant idea. Although they seemed surprised, no, they were shocked when Spiderman walked up to them, but as the burning building was big and there were still a lot of people inside, they were grateful for the assistance. Spiderman helped nine people find their way out the building in the heavy smoke; he guided four more to the firefighters and carried out three unconscious ones on his back. Then Karen told him the building was finally empty, so he decided to head home. The suit was covered in grime and smelled terribly, but all in all it was a successful night. And the whole operation took only an hour. Satisfied, he shot a web to swing back to the Tower. He hoped Mr. Stark was still asleep.

But while he was in the air, he heard a gunshot underneath him. He looked down and saw at least a dozen men in an alley. One of them was lying on the ground, clutching his leg.

"Karen, what's going on down there?" Spiderman asked, landing on a ledge that seemed like a perfect spot to watch the events underneath.

"There are fourteen people there, Peter, all of them are armed; they have guns and knives."

It looked like two teams facing each other, two teams of very angry people with weapons in their hands. They were obviously waiting for someone to make the first move so they could all attack.

"Karen, it looks like we're in the middle of a gang battle. They are about to kill each other. And it's not like the police will arrive anytime soon," Spiderman frowned looking back at the fire. Yeah, everyone was down there, so these gangs could do whatever they wanted now.

"I disagree, Peter," Karen said calmly. "We are not, as you put it, in the middle of a gang battle. They don't know you're here."

"Yeah, but-"

"There are fourteen armed men down there, Peter," the AI interrupted him. "I think you should either let me alert the police so that they can handle this or ask for the Avengers' help."

Spiderman groaned. Karen was wrong. The policed was obviously busy elsewhere and even if Karen had alerted them, could they get here in time? And as for the Avengers… no. No, no, no. There was no way he would wake them up because of fourteen losers who didn't have a better idea what to do tonight.

"I got this, Karen, don't worry," he answered confidently. "Just a few webs and we can get rid of those ugly weapons. Easy-peasy."

And well, that was the bad idea. Because of course it wasn't as easy as Spiderman had expected. Then gangs might have hated each other, the people might have been ready to kill each other, but as soon as the superhero swung into action, they immediately united their forces against the new, common enemy who was stupid enough to interrupt their party.

So here is Spiderman now, clumsily crawling through his bedroom window, falling onto the floor while clutching his left leg, fingers pressing into a bleeding gash. Hurts, hurts, hurts!

He should have seen the knife coming. He should have known just because that thug was lying on the ground, he was still dangerous with that huge knife in his hand. He should have webbed him up when he knocked him down and most of all, he should have got rid of the knife. Because when Spiderman was fighting with another gang member, the goon just reached up with his knife and cut the superhero's leg. He didn't even feel it first. The fight was over soon after that, Spiderman disarmed and webbed up the bad guys, but then the adrenaline ran off and he could feel the hot white pain flaring up in his leg. Karen didn't have to beg him to return to the Tower.

But now he's panting on the floor in his room, the intense pain making it almost impossible to exist, let alone think. There are dark spots dancing around the edge of his vision.

"Peter, are you alright? Should I call boss?" Friday asks him worriedly.

He frowns. Life is hard with two AIs who always act like mother hens!

"Is Mr. Stark still asleep?" he manages through the pain.

"Yes, Peter. But I can wake him up."

"No!" he all but yells. "I mean no, Friday, that's not necessary," he clarifies a tad calmer. "It's just a cut. I can take care of it myself."

He can't really think coherently from the pain, but there's one thing he's absolutely sure about: he can't let Mr. Stark know. He should let the man sleep. He shouldn't disturb him with a nuisance like this. Even the mere thought is ridiculous.

But obviously, he couldn't convince Friday, because the AI tries again.

"Are you sure, Peter? Boss asked me to tell him whenever you're injured."

"Okay, but there's no reason to tell him about every little scratch, right?" he laughs nervously. If only Friday left him alone! Then he could try to focus and figure out what to do next. "I promise to tell Mr. Stark if I feel worse and need help, okay?" he offers.

Friday seems to accept the idea. "Aright, Peter, as you wish."

He sighs. He knows he can't stay like this forever, lying on the floor, clutching his leg. He needs to clean the wound and bandage it. It's not that deep but it might need stitches. But to do all this, he should get up and that seems like an awful idea. More so, it seems impossible.

But he grits his teeth. He has just defeated two gangs. He can totally do this. Piece of cake. He has to do this. He just needs to stitch himself up and then he can lie down and sleep and forget about it. Sounds like an amazing plan.

He takes a deep breath, frantically trying to push the pain into the back of his mind. But when he is about to move, to start the undoubtedly slow and painful process to get on his feet, or at least on one foot, that stupid wound flares up again and he feels like he's been stabbed once again. The pain feels so real and so unbearable that he glances down at his leg to check there's no knife sticking out of it.

Okay, new plan.

More or less, he patched himself up at the scene already. Meaning he covered the cut with web like he always does. It was ideal to stop the bleeding and not to leave a red trail behind leading to the Tower. And it should be good for a while. So resting first, taking care of the cut later. Yeah, that sounds much better. And the floor is not that bad. It's hard, sure but not cold, it's gonna be okay.

He's just resting his eyes a bit. Then he's going to get up, go or maybe crawl into the bathroom, grab the medical kit from under the sink, clean the wound and stitch himself up. It's gonna be easy, it's not like he's never done it before. Okay, stabbing himself with a needle doesn't sound very appealing but he can manage. Just not now. Later.

When the pain is better and breathing doesn't seem like an impossible job. He tugs off his mask. That's better.

He hopes the injury will heal soon. If he limps tomorrow morning, Mr. Stark will definitely ask what happened. And they both know Peter can't lie.

And yes, Mr. Stark knows Peter gets injured from time to time while patrolling, he is aware that being a superhero is a dangerous job and you get hurt sometimes. He was there when Peter was shot at that bank robbery a while ago. But back then Peter didn't live at the Tower, Mr. Stark wasn't his guardian, he didn't take responsibility for him.

But now Peter is his responsibility and Peter is trouble. So much trouble. The dream of every parent, right? A kid who fights criminals and gets stabbed. Who comes home bleeding.

Peter is absolutely sure that this could be it. The last drop. When Mr. Stark decides he doesn't need this mess in his life. He doesn't need Peter in his life. He doesn't need a kid who sneaks out into fires and jumps into gang battles and then bleeds all over the carpet.

Tears fill his eyes and he doesn't know what hurts more. The gash on his leg or the thought of having to leave Mr. Stark. The latter. Definitely the latter. He doesn't want to leave. He wants to stay.

Geez, Karen was right. She was right when she told him stopping two gangs was a bad idea. It wasn't his fault that those people wanted to kill each other. Why did he have to interfere?

He was so dumb. Dumb, dumb, dumb.

And here he is now, bleeding and crying and panting and tormenting.

His eyelids flutter.

Maybe he should ask Friday to call Mr. Stark.

"Peter, I think I should tell boss that-" the AI starts as if she could read his thoughts.

"No!" he suddenly yells. What was he thinking? Mr. Stark can't know about this.

No.

It's gonna be okay. He's gonna be okay.

He just needs to rest a bit.

Chapter Text

When Peter wakes up, he’s in a bed, a blanket thrown atop of him. It feels so good, so soft, so warm. He’s determined to keep his eyes shut and enjoy this softness a little bit longer, but his mind tells him something is not right.

There’s a dull pain in his leg and that suddenly reminds him of last night’s events. Fire, gang battle, cut, crawling into his room, passing out on the floor. Probably in this order.

He groans, peers an eye open and moves the blanket to check his wound. It’s been cleaned and dressed and undoubtedly stitched, but he can’t see that under the bandage. And there’s something else. He’s not in his suit anymore but in his pajamas. He blinks. It can only mean one thing-

“Morning, Peter,” a familiar voice greets him and he instantly turns to see Mr. Stark leaning causally to the doorframe, his signature coffee mug in his hand.

And there goes Peter’s plan to keep his injury a secret from the man. To just rest a little and take care of the wound later. Yeah, sure.

The boy remains silent; he can’t speak just yet, no, because he has given his mind only one job: to figure out how mad Mr. Stark is at him. Will he kick him out now? Or will he let him recover first? Did he call CPS already?

But surprisingly, there’s not a hint of anger on Mr. Stark’s face. No. Just sadness and… disappointment. And maybe that’s worse. Peter swallows hard and tries to fight the urge to pull the blanket over his face and hide under it forever.

“Mr. Stark, I can explain-“ he starts, but the man waves him off.

“No need, kid. Karen already told me. Fire and gangs, right? You had a busy night.”

“It was nothing I couldn’t handle. You don’t have to worry about me,” Peter says quietly, sitting up.

“Well, I do worry about you, Peter, all the time,” Mr. Stark shrugs. “And that’s not gonna change, I’m sorry. No, scratch that, I’m not sorry, worrying about you is kinda my job. For now. Anyway, I made breakfast. Your favorite, waffles. So if you are up to it, you can come out into the kitchen. Or I can bring it in here.”

Peter narrows his eyes. He can’t get over those two short words in the middle of the man’s rant: for now. What exactly does Mr. Stark mean?

Then realization sets in.

He was right. His stunt last night? That was the last drop. Him getting in trouble and coming home injured. Mr. Stark is fed up with him. Fed up with his mess. And he wants to get rid of him.

It’s not like Peter could blame him. He has always known he’s trouble. He has always known this would happen. It was just a matter of time. And now that time has come.

Those waffles are his last meal here. It’s actually nice of Mr. Stark making his favorite as a farewell gift. Well, Mr. Stark has always been nice to him. It’s not his fault that it has come to this. It’s not his fault that he can’t handle Peter’s mess anymore. It’s entirely Peter’s fault.

The least he can do is to face the music now. He can’t hide in his room anymore. Which might not be his room anyway. It’s just a guest room again. And Peter’s just a guest here. A guest that will leave soon.

He will have his last breakfast with Mr. Stark, pack his stuff and leave. Probably back to the streets. Hopefully, his warehouse is still available, empty. Because there’s no way that he’s going into a foster home!

The boy sighs defeated and tries to stand. He hisses when pain explodes in his leg and he stumbles, but Mr. Stark is suddenly there, catching him, steadying him and he holds on to his arm gratefully. He can feel hot tears in his eyes. Gosh, he’s gonna miss this so much! Miss Mr. Stark so much! Because he’s always there to catch him, to help him.

When he moved in and told Mr. Stark to stop hovering, stop being so nice to him, this was exactly what he was afraid of. That the nicer the man is, the harder it will be to leave. And he was right. Because it’s gonna be so damn hard to leave!

But. He can do this. He has to do this. And he won’t cry. He will save his tears for later. He will have plenty of time to cry in the warehouse. Just like old times, right?

But now. Now he’s going to have breakfast with Mr. Stark one last time.

“Easy, easy there, kid,” the man’s concerned voice interrupts his train of thoughts. “If the stitches pop, we’ll have to go down to the med bay, because I’m not gonna do that all over again,” he claims pointing at Peter’s wound. “One time last night was enough.”

Peter gives Mr. Stark a quizzical look and he understands the unsaid question. “I figured you’d prefer your room to the med bay and that cut was not that bad, so I took care of it myself. But if it’s getting worse, we’re going down there,” he adds sternly.

The boy nods. “Thank you, Mr. Stark.”

The man gives him a small smile in return and helps him limp into the kitchen.

The leg still hurts and Peter can see now that his plan to keep the injury a secret would have never worked. Even if he’d had the strength to patch himself up last night, he could have never hidden the pain. He could have never avoided this. Eating his last breakfast at the Tower.

He’s shoveling food into his mouth and though the waffles taste amazing as always, he can’t enjoy them now. Knowing what’s about to happen, he has no appetite at all. He’s doing his best to eat as much as he always does. Because he really doesn’t want to hurt Mr. Stark’s feelings, he doesn’t want him to think Peter doesn’t appreciate his efforts. Because he does, he really does.

“We need to talk, kid,” Mr. Stark announces unexpectedly, sitting across from him and clutching his coffee mug.

Peter’s eyes immediately shoot up at him. He swallows a bite and now he’s absolutely sure that he won’t be able to eat more. He might get sick.

But he has to do this. He has to face the consequences of his actions. He deserves this. So he decides to put a brave face on and gives the man a nod.

Mr. Stark looks uncomfortable. He probably also finds this conversation painful. He doesn’t want to do this. But he knows it has to be done.

He runs a hand through his hair and groans. “Oh, Pete. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. You have no idea...”

Then he goes silent and just stares at the table. It looks like he’s unable to go on.

The boy decides to make it easier for Mr. Stark. He will say what has to be said. It’s the least he can do for the man.

“I need to leave,” Peter whispers, lowering his head and accepting his fate.

“I think that’s the best, kid, yeah,” the man replies, regret dripping from his voice. “It’s obviously not working.”

Peter nods again. He knows it’s not working, knew it never would.

“I promise to help you find a good place, buddy,” the man continues. “You deserve the best.”

But Peter doesn’t believe that’s true. Mr. Stark is wrong. He doesn’t deserve the best. He had the best, the best parent he could wish for and he screwed up. Big time. He doesn’t deserve anything.

“I know it’s not gonna be easy, but I’m sure we can figure out something, kid,” the man explains.

They remain silent for a few minutes. Peter knows he should get back into his room, grab his stuff and go, the sooner the better. Mr. Stark doesn’t have to help him anymore, hell, he couldn’t, how could he now? He’s on his own again.

But despite this awful conversation, it feels nice to just sit here with the man. He’s reluctant to go. He doesn’t want to go. He has to, he agrees with Mr. Stark but he doesn’t want to. And God, no, those damned tears are here again!

Mr. Stark sighs and leans closer. Peter refuses to look up at him. He doesn’t want the man to see those tears in his eyes and he’s sure if he looked into Mr. Stark’s eyes now, he couldn’t stop them from falling.

“Oh, Pete,” the man says again and he sounds tired, exhausted. “I knew I would screw up. Barton told me to make sure that you trust me. To make you feel that you can always come to me. And I couldn’t do that. I failed you, kid and I’m so sorry. You can’t trust me, can you? That’s why you ran away, that’s why you were trying to fix your suit on your own and that’s why you didn’t let Friday call me last night, right? I know you’re strong, Peter, you’re so strong and you can handle anything, but let me tell you something, bud. It’s okay to ask for help sometimes. I know it’s not easy, it’s pretty hard for me, too but you don’t have to deal with everything on your own. I hope one day you’ll find someone you can trust and let in. I just wish I could have been that someone. I wish you could have trust me, kid.”

Peter finally looks up at Mr. Stark; he doesn’t care anymore if he sees his tears. He can see a sad smile on the man’s face and something like… resignation?

But Mr. Stark is wrong! So wrong! And yes, Peter knows he has to leave but he can’t leave like this! He can’t let the man believe it’s been his fault! Because it’s not, he didn’t fail, Peter did!

“No, Mr. Stark,” he protests vehemently. “I trust you. I trust you the most,” he adds quietly.

“You’re a good kid, Peter, always so polite,” Mr. Stark smiles again.

But Peter gets angry this time. Mr. Stark doesn’t understand! He’s not polite, he’s honest!

He slams a fist on the table, and it’s such an unexpected move from the boy, that Mr. Stark staggers back. He stares at Peter in shock, mouth fallen open but unable to speak.

“No, Mr. Stark!” the boy repeats through gritted teeth. “You don’t understand! I do trust you! And you have always been so kind to me. But what do I do in return? I always screw up! I am so dumb and always do something stupid. Like ruining that awesome suit! You put so much work into it and what did I do? I ruined it! And then you go on a mission to fight some bad guys while me? Jumping into stupid gang battles against fourteen armed men! I… I always screw up, Mr. Stark, I’m trouble, I know. I want you to believe I’m good and you don’t have to worry about me, but no matter how hard I try, I always mess up. And when I try to handle things on my own, you always figure it out sooner or later, right?” he laughs nervously. Then he turns sad again. “I guess I just can’t hide it from you. That I’m just… too much. I’m making your life complicated and you don’t deserve it. So you’re right, Mr. Stark, I should leave.”

He is about to get up, he grabs the edge of the table to steady himself while slowly launching to his feet. He winces when his injured leg reminds him of last night’s events again.

“Whoa, not so fast, kid,” Mr. Stark says, holding up a hand.

Peter obeys immediately and sits back. He actually feels relieved because that stupid leg still hurts a lot.

“So you’re saying you didn’t ask for my help because you felt embarrassed?” Mr. Stark asks leaning closer again, narrowing his eyes at the boy. Peter doesn’t answer, he just lowers his head. That seems a good enough response to the man though because he continues. “What did you think I would do, Pete, huh? If I had found about the suit earlier? Or last night, when you got home injured and if you had woken me up to help you? What did you think I would do?”

The boy remains silent, but Mr. Stark seems patient. He is sitting there, watching Peter, waiting for him to speak.

And Peter knows he owes him an explanation. It’s not like it would change anything. He’s leaving, that’s settled. But Mr. Stark was kind enough to take him in, to help him and even now, when he knows about all the mistakes, all the bad decisions Peter has made, he’s still patient and nice to him. It painfully reminds the kid how much he has lost. Again.

“I…,” he starts, head hanging low. “I was afraid that you’d kick me out,” he all but mutters. “If you had realized how much trouble I was, that I ruined everything, you’d have sent me away.” Then he raises his head, looks Mr. Stark in the eye, although he can hardly see the man from the hot tears burning in his own eyes. “And I didn’t want to go, Mr. Stark. I felt so good here, so happy, I… it was like home. And I knew… I always knew it was just a matter of time… one day I’ll make something really, really stupid and you’ll… you’ll…”

He sniffs and wipes the tears away with the sleeves of his shirt. Then he looks away, unable to look at Mr. Stark anymore.

The man shakes his head in disbelief and hides his face behind his hands. “Oh, Pete. Jesus. I didn’t know. I’m the worst. I didn’t realize what you were going through. That you were afraid of… Shit. Kid, you’re wrong, okay? Now I’m the one saying it. You gotta understand that you’re wrong… Hey, look at me, please.”

But Peter cannot. It was a dumb idea. Again. Discussing this whole thing. Trying to make Mr. Stark understand. No. It would have been easier just to jump up and leave. He could be in the warehouse by now. He wouldn’t mind those stupid tears there but here…

He crosses his arms, shakes his head and refuses to look at Mr. Stark. But he is unable to get up and leave, either.

Mr. Stark takes a deep breath, stands up and walks to Peter. He crouches down in front of the boy and places both of his hands on his knees. He stares at the kid and waits patiently until Peter’s red eyes hesitantly meet his.

“Let me tell you this, Pete,” the man starts slowly. “I love you, kid. No matter what, you hear me? You can’t do anything to make me unlove you. I don’t mind if you make a mistake. I don’t mind if you do something stupid. You can’t do anything too stupid to change that, okay? I love you and I’m going to repeat it again and again until you believe me. And if you’re in trouble, you can always come to me. I want you to come to me, okay? And I can guarantee we can always figure out something. We’re smart guys, right? Well, mostly… Anyway, if you trust me like you said, let me help you. That’s why I’m here, kid. And I’m not going anywhere. And you’re not going anywhere either, I’m sorry,” he adds with a grin.

Peter tilts his head and swallows back his tears. He’s trying to decide if he can believe what he has just heard. Is it true? Is Mr. Stark serious?

The man gives him a warm smile. “Pete, I want what’s best for you. I thought you didn’t trust me and I was ready to let you go because I thought you could find a better home somewhere else. But if you want to stay, if you want to stay with me, that would make me really happy, bud. Because me taking care of you, kid? That’s a long-term thing. That’s a forever kind of thing. I mean it. No running away or damaged suit or bleeding leg can change that. So what are you saying, kid? Are you in?”

Peter sniffs again, and then an enormous grin spreads across his face. He jumps into Mr. Stark’s arms and the man nearly loses his balance but he steadies himself before they could stumble onto the floor. He hugs the boy tight and chuckles.

“I love you, too, Mr. Stark,” he murmurs into the man’s shirt. “I love you so much.”

Chapter Text

When Tony's eyes reluctantly flutter open and he takes a look around to see what has woken him up. He is surprised to see that he is sprawled out on the couch and not in his bed. Then he remembers. After dinner, he offered Peter to watch a movie together. He was extremely tired but he was so happy to be back at the Tower with the kid that he didn't mind to stay up a little longer. But apparently, he fell asleep.

The TV is on and Peter is gone. Tony thinks the kid didn't want to wake him – he even draped a blanket over him, that sweet boy – but he didn't want to sleep on the couch either, so he opted for his bed. Good for him, Tony will definitely have a terrible backache tomorrow from sleeping here in such an uncomfortable position.

Before he could convince himself to get up and retreat into his bedroom, his glance flickers to the TV. It's the news and a reporter says the word Spiderman over and over again. That must have woken him up.

And Tony's heart stops. Because there he is: a red and blue blur swinging into a huge fire and after a few terrifying seconds, showing up again with an unconscious woman in his arms. The superhero hands her over to the waiting paramedics and then runs back into the flames.

His exhaustion long forgotten, Tony is already on his feet and he's about to summon his suit, when the reporter says all this happened an hour ago. So it's not live then. The correspondent also tells Spiderman's rescue mission was successful and while she's talking about the rescued people, the footage shows the superhero leaving.

Tony sighs relieved. Huh. Peter must be already home. He should check on him anyway. Just to make sure he's okay. It's not like Peter or Karen contacted him calling for help, kid seemed to handle it just fine. But those flames seemed pretty intense. And yes, the suit is fireproof. Of course, it is. It's a Stark design after all. But it was his kid in that fire, so obviously he's going to check on him.

He doesn't blame Peter for going out tonight. He remembers the boy promised him to stay in until he'd return. And Tony did return. Of course he would like the kid to stay home every night. So that Tony knows he's always safe and sound. He hates worrying about him, worrying if he gets injured or worse… But. Peter is Spiderman and he can't take that away from him just to make sure he doesn't have to worry anymore. That would be selfish. It was Peter's decision to become Spiderman and he should respect that. Just like everyone respects that he's Iron Man.

It doesn't mean it's easy though.

Sometimes he thinks it would be much better if Peter was just a normal kid. A kid who doesn't go out to fight criminals at night. If only Peter could be an average kid who doesn't have to face with bad guys and violence and blood every night. If only his biggest problem could be his Spanish test and not a new drug ring in Queens. If only he could be just a kid.

That's why he said no to Barton when he invited Peter down to the gym. He wants Peter to be this kid who does homework after school and not a baby Avenger who has sparring classes with Hawkeye.

And yes, Tony knows the kid will never be only Peter Parker. He will always be Spiderman, too. And Spiderman fights bad guys and could train with the Avengers. But he just wants to keep at least the illusion of a normal childhood as much as possible.

Yeah, raising a young superhero is not easy.

And it's definitely not easy to open the door of your kid's room and find him lying unconscious on the floor, blood dripping from a long gash on his leg.

Because that's exactly the sight that welcomes him when he enters Peter's room.

An hour later Tony drops on the small couch in the corner of the Peter's room and he watches the kid in the bed. Peter is safe. Tony stitched the cut and now the kid is sleeping peacefully. It's okay. Everything is okay. If only Tony's heartbeat could go back to normal now.

"Friday," he whispers. "I thought I was clear when I told you to alert me when Peter gets injured."

"Yes, boss, but he assured me it wasn't that bad and he would personally tell you if he felt worse."

"And then he passed out on the floor… don't you think that would have been a good time to call me?" he grumbles through gritted teeth. "New protocol: don't believe Peter when he gets injured and says he's fine, okay? Always tell me, even if it's just a paper cut. I don't care. When it comes to his health… don't let him deceive you, okay? Don't ask, don't even talk to him, just. Call. Me. Immediately."

He lets out a big breath and lies down. He frowns when he remembers that he didn't want to spend the night on the much bigger and comfier couch in the living room, but now this couch, from where he can keep an eye on the kid seems just perfect.

He's asleep in a minute.

When Tony opens his eyes, he checks the time. It's 6.28am. He might as well get up and make his first coffee of the day. He grunts as he slowly rises to his feet. Geez, this couch has been awful, his back will kill him. Maybe he should get a comfier couch. Yeah, that sounds like a good idea with a superhero kid in the house. Patching him up in the middle of the night and sleeping here to keep an eye on him might become a tradition.

He walks to Peter's bed, move the blanket a bit to examine the bandage. Thankfully, it still looks good; it will be enough to change it later, when Peter wakes up.

He looks at the kid's peaceful face and shakes his head. He thanks every god and the universe that he's kid is here, sleeping tight after last night's events.

He exits the room silently and heads into the kitchen. First, he makes breakfast: waffles for the kid and coffee for himself. Then he grabs a tablet and asks Friday to show the footage from last night, the time when Peter returned home. He already knows what happened, he heard Friday's excuses but he wants to know what exactly Peter told her. How could he convince the AI that he was fine when he obviously wasn't?

And when he watches how vehemently Peter protested when Friday offered to call Tony, his heart breaks. The kid was obviously in pain, he was bleeding all over the floor but he didn't care. There was only one thing he cared about, one thing he worried about. That Tony wouldn't come into his room, he wouldn't find out what had happened. The kid was lying on the floor, unable to get up, unable to do anything about the wound and when Friday told him once again that she would tell Tony, he still refused.

The man drops the tablet and swallows hard.

This has proved what he's been afraid for so long. Peter doesn't trust him. Whenever the kid feels bad, whenever he gets in trouble, he never calls Tony and he tries to make sure that the man doesn't even know anything. They've been living together for more than two months and Peter still doesn't trust him. He'd rather bleed out in his room than ask for Tony's help.

He remembers that Peter once asked him about this. What would he do if the kid made a mistake, if he got into trouble? Peter asked him if Tony would kick him out. And the man assured him that he wouldn't. He would never do that. And he was damn serious. He really meant it. But it seems like Peter didn't believe him.

Yes, Barton told him that parenting is a long-term job, but if he hasn't been able to earn the kid's trust yet, then what's the point? If Peter doesn't want his help when he's in pain and bleeding, will he ever come to him? No, probably never. Tony just needs to accept the truth. He'll never gain the kid's trust and they're just wasting time here.

Yeah, he has to deal with it. And he should figure out how to make sure the kid's alright without him. He should find him a place to stay and someone he could trust. And that's not gonna be easy.

He sighs and folds his head in his arms. He would love to call Bruce now and tell him that he was wrong when he said it would be a good idea if Peter moved into the Tower. Tony remembers how many times he explained to Bruce that he would screw up because he wasn't the right person to take care of a kid. And Bruce always waved him off.

Well, here they are now, a few months later and it turns out Tony has been right all along. He's not good at this. He's not good at taking care of Peter. Because the kid just can't trust him!

Maybe he should convince Barton to take home Peter with him. He already has kids and Peter could live with a real family with two parents and siblings. Tony would cover the costs, of course. Yeah, this would be the best. Maybe not for Spiderman, there can't be too many bank robbers and bike thieves on a farm but whatever. This would be the best for Peter.

He is about to ask Friday to call Clint but the AI tells him that Peter is waking up. He grabs his coffee mug and walks into the kid's room.

After breakfast and after their very emotional conversation, Peter is lounging on the couch again, staring at the TV. Tony told him he didn't have to go school today; skipping one day is easier than explaining the leg injury that will be gone by the end of the day anyway. Plus, after that heartfelt discussion he's not quite ready to let the kid go.

"Mr. Stark, it's getting creepy," Peter complains, not taking his eyes off the TV.

"What is creepy?" Tony raises an eyebrow. He's sitting in an armchair next to the couch.

"You staring at me for about, I don't know, for half an hour now," the kid whines, but there's a tiny smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"Well, excuse me, I'm just happy that you're here to stay," he shrugs grinning.

Just a short time ago, he promised Peter he would always tell him how much he loves him. And he was serious. If he needs to regularly remind the boy how important he is, how much Tony cares about him, well, that's a very small price to pay to make sure the kid feels safe and happy at the Tower, right? And it's the truth anyway.

"Thank you, Mr. Stark," Peter replies and blushes.

Okay, discussing emotions openly makes the kid a bit uncomfortable. Well, he needs to deal with it, because it will happen more often in the future. Tony is determined. He won't let Peter suffer anymore just because he believes he know what Tony thinks. It's easier if he tells the kid what he thinks. Like now for example. That it makes him really happy that Peter is here and not on his way to Barton's family.

But. It doesn't mean that they don't have to work on the kid's trust issues anymore. Because he might say that he trusts Tony and the man thinks Peter actually believes that. But if he really trusted Tony, he would have turned to him for help and wouldn't have thought that Tony would kick him out. He should have known that Tony would never do that.

The man isn't sure whose fault is that. Should he have said or done something to convince Peter he would never send him away? He decides it's not worth dwelling on that, he should focus on the present. He needs to do things and say things to make the kid believe that he can trust him. Always.

He remembers when Peter asked him if he would kick him out if he had made a mistake. It seems like that conversation happened a long time ago. After Barton had told him to discuss a few rules with the boy. And Peter asked what would happen if he had done something wrong. Tony assured him he would never send him away. But now it seems he couldn't convince him. Which means he needs to work harder to gain his trust, to prove him he would never want to get rid of him.

And that gives him an idea. He knows what he should do. And that… well, if he does that, he can be always sure that Peter stays here at the Tower. None of them will ever think it would be better if the kid left. Tony could guarantees that he stays for good. Perfect.

He is about to get up when Peter suddenly turns to him. "I'm also very happy that I'm here, Mr. Stark," he says smiling.

"Great. Then maybe we should make it official," Tony replies. He stands up and leaves, heading to his bedroom.

"What do you mean?" the kid asks behind him confused.

He quickly returns with a bunch of papers in his hand and he holds them up triumphantly. He ignores Peter's puzzled look as he lays the papers on the coffee table. He waits until the kid leans closer and reads the documents. At least, the first few words.

"Are these…?" the boy mutters and he seems unable to take his eyes off the sheets. As if he couldn't believe what he's seeing in front of him.

Tony sits down beside him and grins. "Yes, they are. I've been meaning to show you these, kid, for a long time now. I've been waiting for the perfect time but I think there's nothing more perfect than today because I don't wanna wait any longer."

Peter finally turns away from the papers and looks up at the man. There's absolute confusion in those big, brown eyes and that confusion refuses to leave, though Tony tries to give him the most assuring smile he can make.

"Are you sure?" the boy asks, no, he whispers as if fearing the answer.

But there's an even bigger smile spreading on Tony's face. "Yes, I'm absolutely sure. One hundred percent. I have never been surer in my life. I swear. Kid, I want to adopt you."

Chapter Text

Peter feels nervous. Like a lot. He feels like he's suffocating. The luxurious, huge Stark residence doesn't feel big enough anymore. No, it feels like a tiny hole and he needs to get out. He wants to run to the window and leap off the ledge, he wants to shoot a web to a neighboring building and swing away. It doesn't matter where, just away from here. As far as possible, as quickly as possible, never looking back.

The day started perfectly, though. He had another nice breakfast with Mr. Stark, which has become one of his favorite new traditions. Mr. Stark made pancakes this time. Tons of pancakes with chocolate chips. He was sitting there in the kitchen, shoveling food into his mouth and feeling happy because it was Sunday morning and Mr. Stark had promised to spend the day with him in the lab, trying out a few upgrades that Peter had suggested for the Iron Man suit. Peter felt like he was in heaven.

Until Mr. Stark matter-of-factly mentioned that Colonel Rhodes would drop by after breakfast. He had just arrived from DC and Mr. Stark wanted to introduce him to Peter. But first Mr. Stark wanted to speak to his friend privately. Peter understood what that meant. Mr. Stark needed to break the news to the Colonel. That he had adopted the boy. Then Peter would meet Colonel Rhodes and then lab time. That was the new plan.

But no matter how happy Peter had been feeling before, now that he knew about the arrival of the Colonel, he quickly forgot about the lab and the upgrades and the Iron Man armor. All he could think of was that serious conversation between Mr. Stark and Colonel Rhodes. He was sitting there frozen, staring blankly at Mr. Stark across the table.

He hadn't met the Colonel yet, but he knew that he had been Mr. Stark's best friend – sometimes his only friend – for ages and Mr. Stark trusted him the most. So if he had disapproved of the adoption, Mr. Stark would have stepped back. Was it possible to do that? Mr. Stark had probably the best lawyers in the world, so it might have been an option for him.

So Peter was just sitting there, unable to speak and unable to eat anymore. He didn't know what to do or what to say. But he didn't think he could do or say anything, his only option was to wait. And hope the Colonel wouldn't tell Mr. Stark that the adoption was stupid and he needed to undo it.

Then Friday announced the Colonel's arrival and told that he was waiting in a conference room just a floor under them. Mr. Stark gave Peter a concerned look but then set down his coffee mug on the table and got to his feet.

"See you soon, kid," he said and ruffled Peter's hair on his way to the elevator.

And here is Peter now, anxiously pacing up and down between the couch and the TV. Every now and then he stops and tries to eavesdrop but despite his super hearing he can't hear anything, no matter how hard he tries. So he always gives up and starts pacing again.

He has tried everything. Watching a movie. Reading a book. Texting Ned. Trying to find a scientific question that Friday is unable to answer. He even started doing homework. But nothing has worked.

He just can't focus. He is unable not to think about the conversation that is going on between Mr. Stark and Colonel Rhodes a floor under.

What could the Colonel possibly tell Mr. Stark? Does he think it's been a good idea to adopt Peter? Or is he calling his friend irresponsible and foolish in this very moment? Peter still remembers Ms. Potts did something like that. Mr. Stark told him and he also said that he actually agreed with her when she didn't think taking in Peter was a good decision. And back then, they didn't even talk about even adoption.

Well, thanks to that information Peter is still afraid of meeting Ms. Potts. Yes, he remembers that Mr. Stark said she wasn't worried about Peter being a good kid. She was worried that Mr. Stark couldn't be a good parent. Which is stupid according to Peter. And he's not sure he wants to see Ms. Potts. But as she is the CEO of SI and Mr. Stark considers her a good friend, the boy knows he will have to meet her sooner or later.

Anyway, back to Colonel Rhodes. What if he tells Mr. Stark that the adoption was a mistake and asks him to undo it and Mr. Stark agrees and Peter is put into foster care and-

In that very moment, the elevator doors open and Peter immediately turns around to see who has arrived. He expects Mr. Stark of course, hopefully with his usual warm smile on his face. That could calm Peter's nerves and end his agony.

But it's not him, it's Clint. Hawkeye with a bow in his hand and arrows on his back. Like he's going on a mission or something. Maybe he is, a jet is waiting for him on the rooftop and he has just come to say goodbye before leaving.

"Hey, kid, what's up?" he asks cheerfully, walking to the fridge and grabbing a soda. He sets his bow on the counter and pops open the can.

"Nothing," Peter shrugs, eyeing the bow. Yeah, this is what living with the Avengers looks like. That a bow on the countertop on a Sunday morning is a perfectly normal thing.

"Okay, if you've got nothing better to do, why don't you come with me to train?"

"Mr. Stark wouldn't allow that," the boy replies dutifully.

Clint must remember the time when he wanted Peter to train with him and Mr. Stark forbade it. Like immediately and very vehemently. It was only a few days ago.

"Yes, I know what your old man said," the Avengers answers, rolling his eyes. He obviously doesn't agree with Mr. Stark but doesn't want to cross him either. "Let me rephrase it then. Do you want to watch me train? I know it's not as cool as actually training, but-"

"Yes!" Peter says or rather yells and Clint chuckles. "I mean, yes, that would be awesome, Clint," he adds, this time much softer.

Training with Clint or watching Clint train is more than amazing. Peter guesses the archer wants to impress and entertain him because there's no way he always does this many crazy tricks during a training session. Then again, fun seems to be Clint's element. Shooting at blueberries while wearing a blindfold might be just another boring drill for him.

He wants to try it out of course. Shooting arrows seems so much fun. And trying out the different kinds of crazy arrows, like the ones that explode or burn or shoot down power. He begs Clint to teach him.

"One day, kid," the Avenger smiles. "One day I'm gonna teach you everything I know."

And Peter smiles back because he knows what the archer means. One day when Mr. Stark allows him.

When they return to the penthouse and the elevator doors open, they reveal two men sitting on the couch and talking. One of them is Mr. Stark and the other… Peter immediately recognizes Colonel Rhodes. War Machine.

Peter comes to an immediate halt and he's not sure if he can walk into the room. Because he'd rather run away. From the corner of his eye he can see Mr. Stark getting up and marching to them. He pats Clint on the shoulder, whispering something to the man, but Peter doesn't really care because all he can see is the Colonel standing up and looking him in the eye. He must have noticed Peter's panic because he gives him a reassuring smile. Then he walks to him and reaches out a hand.

"It's nice to finally meet you, Peter. Tony has told so much about you," he says, still smiling.

The boy hesitantly shakes his hand. "T-thank you, sir, it's-it's an honor," he mutters.

"Just call me Rhodey," the man says and Peter shyly nods.

"Come on, kid, no need to be so star-struck, you know War Machine is not as cool as your favorite Avenger," Mr. Stark says stepping closer to them and the Colonel – Rhodey – rolls his eyes.

"You mean not as cool as Hawkeye?" Clint interjects. "I mean you're right, I showed the kid some pretty mean tricks. Don't be surprised if he wants a bow for Christmas."

"Keep dreaming, Locksley," Mr. Stark waves him off.

"As far as I know, Peter here also has a few tricks has a few tricks up his sleeve, right, Spidey?" Rhodey says putting a hand on the boy's shoulder and giving him a smile. "Let me tell you something. While these two idiots are fighting, I'm giving you an instruction manual to Tony, okay? Trust me, you'll need them."

Peter nods again and finally allows himself to smile. Because this means Rhodey hasn't tried to convince Mr. Stark that the adoption was reckless and they should undo it. If Rhodey wants to give him advice on living with Mr. Stark, he must agree with it, right?

Chapter Text

“One down, one more to go,” Tony thinks to himself while he’s sitting at a table at a fancy new café waiting for his guest, Pepper Potts. “This is gonna be a tough one,” he adds to himself and props his head in his hands.

Well, Rhodey wasn’t easy either. His best friend didn’t really appreciate when Tony broke the news on Peter. It’s not like he didn’t understand or opposed the adoption. He just didn’t like that Tony hadn’t told him about Peter before. And when he asked Tony why, he couldn’t really answer. But Rhodey immediately guessed it. He was his best friend, right? He understood that Tony hadn’t told him because he had been afraid of Rhodey’s opinion. He worried that Rhodey would try to convince him to help Peter in a different way. Try to convince him that taking Peter in and adopting him wasn’t a good idea.

“But why would you think that, Tones?” Rhodey asked. “I think it’s great. For both of you. I gotta admit I’m a bit surprised, no, I’m shocked but I think it’s good.”

Tony frowned at him. “See, that’s why I didn’t tell you, man. You’re shocked. Which is not a good thing.”

“Well, I never thought I would hear the words Tony Stark and adoption in the same sentence-“

“Because I’m not a parent material,” Tony muttered looking down at his feet.

He could hear Rhodey sighing and taking a seat beside him.

“Oh, Tones. First, it’s so damn obvious that you care for this kid very much. I think that actually makes you a good parent. This kid is lucky to have you.”

Tony’s eyes shot up at the man next to him and he gave him a disbelieving look. He opened his mouth to protest, but Rhodey held up a hand to stop him.

“I mean it, Tony. I’ve listened to you ranting about Peter for nearly two hours now. You love that kid. And your never-ending doubts about being a good enough parent? That just proves how much you care. And just let me tell you, a lot of parents wouldn’t be classified as good parent material. I don’t have kids, but I’m pretty sure there’s no such thing as a perfect parent. So don’t stress about it, okay? I’m sure you’re doing great, man. Because whatever you believe, you’re actually a good man, Tony.”

Tony looked down again, shook his head and chuckled a bit. He didn’t completely agree with Rhodey but decided not to argue with his friend anymore. Then he felt a hand on his shoulder.

“Now, will you finally introduce me to that kid of yours?” Rhodey demanded.

Well, in the end Tony felt satisfied. Everything turned out perfectly. Rhodey liked the kid and Peter liked Rhodey. Of course.

Tony made a mistake, though. He shouldn’t have had that conversation with his friend at the Tower. Not while Peter was also there, obviously on the verge of a panic attack. He could see it on the kid’s face when he left to meet Rhodey. He knew Peter would be freaking out and trying to eavesdrop. He would drive himself crazy. Kid’s smart, he must have known Tony was discussing the adoption with Rhodey and he was probably worried about the outcome of that discussion. So Tony instructed Friday to make the conference room soundproof and texted Clint to distract Peter.

Gosh, when will the kid ever relax? When will he understand that the adoption is final and nothing can change that? He’s safe with Tony; no one will ever take him away. Tony thought the adoption papers would convince Peter that he was serious about this. Maybe the kid just needs more time.

Anyway, now he’s meeting Pepper and this time he’s more careful. He’s not meeting her at the Tower and Peter’s at school, so it should be all good.

Until he breaks the news to Pepper, that is. He guesses she will call her reckless again. Yes, she wished him luck the last time they talked about Peter and she told him he would be fine and everything, but the adoption… It just makes this whole thing so big. Official. Final. Tony never thought of sending Peter into foster care before signing those papers – no matter what the kid might have thought – but this… this is big. He has really become a… father. For good. Wow. Yes, he has always considered himself being Peter’s guardian or parent or whatever… Peter’s family. And he has considered Peter family, a part of his crazy family, ever since the kid moved into the Tower. But now he has a paper on that, too.

And Peter might still not believe that this is final, but Tony does. And it makes him happy and nervous at the same time. Because family means love and responsibility. And he really doesn’t want to screw this up.

“Hey, Tony.”

He looks up to see Pepper standing at his table and smiling down at him. His stomach swoops with nerves, but he quickly stands up to greet her and then they both settle by the table.

“Thanks for meeting me on such short notice,” Tony says.

“Well, I’m curious,” Pepper smirks. “I mean you’re actually inviting me somewhere, not just asking me to drop by at the Tower and you’re not late. It must be really important.”

Tony laughs nervously and starts fidgeting with his phone. Well, Pepper’s not wrong. Since they broke up, they have never gone out for a dinner or something together. They swore to remain friends and Tony’s sure they both meant it, but… well, they are both very busy, Pepper with SI and Tony with the Avengers and now more importantly, with Peter. They have never had the time. They usually meet in conference rooms before meetings and that’s it.

How will things change between them once he tells about the adoption? Will they see each other even less? Tony briefly wonders why he is so afraid to talk to her. He was worried before his conversation with Rhodey, but now he feels scared. Terrified, even. Why?

Then he remembers what Pepper said to him when they broke up. Honestly, she dumped him and Tony accepted it. It just sounds a bit better if he says they broke up.

He clearly remembers that conversation. He remembers Peppers saying words like irresponsible, immature, unreliable. Fear of commitment. And because Tony actually agreed with her and believed these words described him perfectly, he didn’t stop her when she left. She promised him to stay in his life, but not like his girlfriend. She said she couldn’t do that anymore. Tony wanted her to be happy and he thought if he couldn’t make her feel like that, he had to let her go. That was the fair thing to do.

Suddenly, Pepper’s voice breaks into Tony’s thoughts.

“How’s Peter?”

Tony glances up at her. Her smirk is gone, she looks serious and… worried. Of course. She has always worried that this whole thing with the kid wouldn’t end up well. She has told him many times.

“He’s good,” Tony shrugs, looking down at his phone again. “School’s great, his grades are excellent, he’s just got adopted-“

“Adopted?” she asks surprised. Tony doesn’t dare to look at her but he has known Pepper for ages and he knows this tone. So he’s absolutely sure that she is staring at him right now with eyes wide as saucers. Then she finally finds her voice again. “That’s great news. Who adopted him?”

“Me,” Tony mutters. Getting straight to the point, like always.

Silence. There’s complete silence at their table and it lasts so long that Tony decides to risk a glimpse at Pepper and he slowly raises his head. She is sitting there, her mouth wide open in shock and she’s staring at him as if he has grown a second head.

Then she leans back in her chair and shakes her head. “You’re joking,” she laughs nervously.

“I’m not,” Tony claims, trying to sound as serious as possible.

“Yes, you are.”

Okay, this is a bit ridiculous. But Tony knows he can’t smile now, not even a tiny grin is allowed, because that would definitely undermine his statement about being serious. So he leans closer and looks Pepper in the eye.

“I know I’m always joking around and I’m practically the king of sarcasm, but I’m not joking, Pep. Not this time,” he explains calmly.

“You’re not just his guardian anymore, you have adopted him,” Pepper states, but it sounds like a question.

“Yes, I have,” Tony nods.

She narrows her eyes, watching him suspicious. Tony can practically see the wheels turning in her head. He lets out a big breath.

“You can ask my lawyers. They can show you the documents. It’s official. I’m Peter’s father.”

He flinches. It still feels weird to say that out loud. Then he smiles. Because it actually sounds really nice. He’s Peter’s father. Wow.

Of course Pepper notices that smile. “You are… happy,” she says slowly, as if she couldn’t quite believe it.

Tony props his elbows on the table and gives her a full grin. “I guess I am. I think I’m doing the right thing and it feels good. Plus, Peter’s a great kid and I’m lucky to be his father.”

“Huh,” Pepper snorts. She folds her arms and her eyes shoot up at the ceiling. “Wow. All those years… I tried to convince you to be more responsible, more serious and I never succeeded. And here comes this kid and changes you immediately.”

Tony furrows his brow. Is she… jealous?

But when Pepper turns her head to meet his eyes, she smiles at him. She gives him an honest, warm smile. “I want to meet this kid who has managed to domesticate you.”

“He didn’t domesticate me,” Tony protests vehemently. “I’m still Iron Man and cool and-“

“Sure, sure,” Pepper waves him off laughing. “So when can I meet Peter?”

“As soon as you can find some free time between your meeting and business trips,” he replies.

He doesn’t want to remind her that she could have already met Peter. It’s not like Tony didn’t allow it. But she never had the time. Or maybe she didn’t think it was necessary because she didn’t believe it was permanent. That the kid would remain a permanent part of Tony’s life and not just a temporary visitor like most people. Maybe the adoption has made her realize her mistake.

Pepper grins. “You mean between the meetings and business trips that you avoid?”

“Hey, you’re the CEO,” he retorts in mock annoyance.

She sighs. “Seriously, though. I’m happy for you, Tony, I really am. It’s wonderful news. And makes me think that I might have been wrong when I said you were afraid of commitment.”

Now it’s Tony’s turn to stare in shock and the color drains from his face. “You mean that conversation before we…?”

“Before we broke up, yes.”

He can’t believe this. “Are you saying…?”

Pepper looks down at the table. She seems uncomfortable. “That I might have been wrong,” she confirms softly.

“To break up with me?” Tony tries to clarify. What does it mean? Shit, why is she saying this now?

Pepper rolls her eyes. “God, Tony, really? Okay, yes. I’m saying it again. Breaking up with you might have been a mistake. Turns out you’re not such an irresponsible guy after all. But in my defense, you do everything to look reckless.”

“Part of my image,” he shrugs. Then he smiles at her smugly. ”But seriously, Miss Potts, are you asking me out?”

“No, of course not,” she protests. “I’m just saying if you asked me out, I might say yes.”

“You know I’m a single parent now. That complicates things. I mean if the kid doesn’t like you…”

Pepper rolls her eyes. “You know what, Tony? Forget it.”

“No, I’m kidding, I’m kidding,” he laughs holding up his hands. He remembers how stressed he was before this conversation, but now? He really like where this is going. “I’m sure Peter will like you. And you will adore him, he’s great, he’s smart and kind and polite… geez, no one will ever believe he’s actually my kid,” he chuckles to himself. Then he looks at Pepper. “Anyway, tomorrow at 7pm?”

Chapter Text

Spiderman swings through the open window and lands in the middle of the dark room. The window closes behind him.

“Friday, has Mr. Stark returned from his date yet?” he asks, yanking off the mask. He hopes the man had a nice evening with Miss Potts. He deserves it.

Peter doesn’t really know what happened between Mr. Stark and Miss Potts, the man has never told him and he has never been brave enough to ask. All he knows is that they dated a while ago, it was all over the Internet, but since he met Mr. Stark, Peter has never met Miss Potts, he has never seen her at the Tower and Mr. Stark doesn’t really talk about her, so he thinks they’re not together anymore.

But earlier tonight Mr. Stark mentioned that he would go out and he seemed unusually nervous and changed his tie like three times. Which was really weird. Seeing the man this anxious. Mr. Stark is always so confident. Too confident, as Clint would say. But this time he looked strangely tense, so Peter asked him what kind of meeting he would have. And Mr. Stark told him he would have a date. With Miss Potts.

Peter just smiled, told him to pick the dark blue tie and not the flamboyant red one and told him to have fun. Then he left to patrol.

That was like four hours ago.

“Boss got home half an hour ago, Peter,” Friday says and the boy frowns. The whole apartment is dark, so he thought Mr. Stark would be still on his date. Shit, he should have swung into his bedroom, that would have been safer. Anyway, it’s too late now. Maybe he can still sneak in there without raising attention. Mr. Stark is probably in his room or something.

“Boss is in the lab,” Friday offers and Peter swears he can hear a smile in the AI’s voice. He narrows his eyes at the ceiling. Has Mr. Stark upgraded Friday and now she can read his mind?

He shrugs and turns his attention to the small bag he has in hands. He should go into his room and open it there, but it’s been so long since…

“What do you have there?” a female voice suddenly demands. It’s not Friday.

Peter freezes and nearly drops the bag. Then he swallows hard and takes a look around in the room.

“Who-who’s there?” he manages and he mentally slaps himself. Isn’t he supposed to be a fearless superhero? Then why does he sound like a scared little boy?

Suddenly, a floor lamp at the couch is switched on and he can see a figure half-lying there. A woman with red hair, dressed in all black, watching him interested.

“Black Widow,” Peter mutters, mouth open in awe. “I mean Miss… Miss Romanoff.”

Peter knew that she had got injured during the mission in Mexico, but he didn’t know if she was still in the medbay or somewhere else. As far as he knew, she might have been already on another undercover mission somewhere in Asia or Africa. But it turns out she’s here at the Tower. Wow. 

“Hello, Peter,” the woman smiles at him.

“So-sorry,” he stutters. “I didn’t know you were here.”

He glances up at the ceiling annoyed. Friday understands the look is meant for her.

“You asked only about boss, Peter,” she reminds him.

“It’s my fault, Peter, I shouldn’t have scared you like that,” Miss Romanoff says but she doesn’t really sound guilty. “I’ve been curious. Ever since Clint told me that Stark had taken in a kid. But waiting for you in the dark like this… it wasn’t nice. It’s just an old habit.”

“Because you’re like a super spy. You’re spying on people,” the boy says and blushes when he realizes that must have sounded rude. But instead of apologizing, he tries to remember what he has done since he got home. Did he do anything suspicious?

“So you’re Peter Parker, aka Spiderman,” Miss Romanoff clarifies, interrupting his train of thoughts.

Peter nods dumbly.

“Clint told me everything about you,” she explains.” Well, everything he knows. Tony asked him not to, but he couldn’t honestly believe that Clint could hide something like that from me. But in Clint’s defense, he told me only a few days ago and only when I threatened him,” she says casually, and again, she doesn’t sound guilty at all.

Peter doesn’t know what to say. Should he say anything?

On the couch, Miss Romanoff sits up a little to adjust a pillow behind her back and she winces.

“Are you okay?” Peter asks.

She smiles. “Yes, thank you. I just haven’t fully recovered yet. I don’t have advanced healing.”

They boy’s eyes widen in surprise. “Wow. You really know everything.”

“It’s my job to know everything,” she grins. “Anyway, your bag is moving, kid. What’s in there?”

“No-nothing,” he mumbles.

Peter quickly hides the bag behind his back, even though he knows it’s too late. He should have run into his bedroom when he had the chance. But Miss Romanoff is still injured and he’s fast, so he takes a step toward his room.

“Well, your nothing has a furry head and will jump out of the bag before you reach your room,” the super spy says smiling.

In that very moment, a little furry creature leaps out from the bag and lands on the floor between Peter and Miss Romanoff.

“Oh,” the boy manages and he briefly wonders if he should try to play innocent. Would Miss Romanoff believe he didn’t know what was in the bag? Probably not. She’s a super spy, right?

“Come here, kitty,” the woman says softly and wincing slightly, she leans down and holds out her hand toward the kitten that is standing puzzled in the middle of the room. It lets out a small whine and walks over to Miss Romanoff’s hand. She scoops up the kitten with surprising gentleness. Lying on the couch with a cute kitty in her hands, no one would ever believe this woman could kill anyone with her pinky finger. And the tiny cat seems to trust her, lying almost asleep in her lap. “What’s the story?” she asks.

“I-I  was patrolling like always and I decided to call it a night and head home when I heard this weird sound from a dumpster,” Peter explains, sitting down into an armchair. He’s fidgeting with the bag in his hands while talking. “Turns out it was her,” he explains pointing at the little cat in the woman’s lap. “I couldn’t leave her there. I mean it was late, the shelters were already closed and I… I just didn’t want to leave her there.”

The memory of living on the streets is still fresh in Peter’s mind. He still remembers how it feels to be out there, not to have a home, being cold and hungry all the time. And he knows he can’t save everyone and he definitely can’t bring home every stray cat he meets but… No, he refuses to cry in front of Miss Romanoff. He’s not entirely sure what she thinks about him, scratch that, he doesn’t have a clue what she thinks, but he doesn’t want to make a bad impression on her. So no crying.

Miss Romanoff doesn’t look at him, but Peter guesses she knows he’s on the verge of tears.

 “What’s her name?” she asks, scratching the tiny, furry head of the cat.

“Ada,” the boy replies without hesitation.

The woman chuckles and Peter doesn’t understand. Does she find the name stupid? He thinks it’s a cool name.

“You need to feed and bathe her,” Miss Romanoff says, handing over the little cat to Peter. “She’s really cute.”

“Yeah, she is,” the boy answers smiling down at the small kitten in his hands. She will probably look even cuter once she’s clean, though. Peter guesses she has fluffy, white and beige fur but now she looks mostly grey.

He stands up, holding the cat in one of his hands and he grabs the bag from the floor with the other one. He walks over to kitchen, throwing away the bag on his way. He needed to get rid of it, it stank.  Well, he found it in a dumpster, so… but he didn’t have a choice, the bag seemed like a safe option to transfer Ada to the Tower.

With the sleepy cat still in his hand, he opens the refrigerator and grabs a carton of milk. Then he opens a cupboard and takes out a small bowl. Placing the kitty on the counter, he fills the bowl with milk and places it in front of Ada. Okay, maybe he should have set her and the bowl on the floor but he swears to himself that he will clean the counter very thoroughly.

Peter knows while he’s watching the cat slowly lapping up the milk, Miss Romanoff is watching him. He can feel her eyes on her. But she doesn’t say anything and it’s killing him. He glances up at her.

“Can I get you anything, Miss Romanoff?”

“No, I’m good, Peter, thank you,” she says, giving him a warm smile. The smile seems genuine, so maybe she likes him? On the other hand, she’s a super spy, she could always fake a smile. She could always pretend to like him.

But Peter decides he doesn’t want to believe that. He doesn’t know what Miss Romanoff thinks of him, maybe he’ll never know but he will suppose that she likes him. It’s easier this way.

~

“Good morning, kiddo. Wake up!”

“Do I have to? It’s Saturday.”

“And it’s 10am already. Clint and Nat are here for breakfast and yes, that scary woman told me you two had already met last night, but I thought you would love to have breakfast with them. Was I wrong?”

“No, I’m coming.”

Peter yawns and refuses to open his eyes. Just one more minute, please. He hopes Mr. Stark will let him sleep one minute longer. No such luck, though. He peers an eye open and he can see the man leaning against the doorframe, patiently waiting for Peter to get up. And he looks… happy.

Oh. The date with Miss Potts.

“Did you have fun last night?” he asks and sits up.

“Yeah,” Mr. Star smirks.

Obviously, he doesn’t want to elaborate and Peter doesn’t really expect him to. It’s enough for him to see the man happy. He hasn’t met Miss Potts yet, but if she makes Mr. Stark happy, he will surely like her.

“I didn’t know you were sleeping with a stuffed toy,” Mr. Stark suddenly says, lifting an eyebrow and stepping closer to Peter’s bed.

The boy freezes.

Oh no. No, no, no.

“Yeah, it’s just…”

Come on, think, Parker, think!

And please, Ada, don’t move now. Just sleep. Like a cute stuffed toy.

But of course, the kitten chooses this very moment to wake up. She raises her small head and yawns, showing off her tiny, sharp teeth.

Shit, it went so well! Mr. Stark remained in the lab all night and Peter could feed and bathe Ada. Miss Romanoff promised not to tell anything to Mr. Stark. She said it was Peter’s duty to tell. And he wanted to do that, he really did. He wanted to tell him and he definitely didn’t want him to find it out like this. Even though he didn’t really know what he would say.

Yes, he knows he should take the kitty to a shelter, the Tower is not a good place for a cat or any pet, but maybe they could keep her anyway? Maybe they could give it a try?

Well, it’s too late to think about how he should start his little speech to convince Mr. Stark. The cat is literally out of the bag.

Peter dramatically flops back down on the bed and closes his eyes. “Would you believe if I told you it’s a very realistic deploy that I built last night?”

“If that was true, I would be really impressed, kid,” the man answers. “But that’s a real cat.”

Peter can’t really decide if that was a statement or a question, so he just nods with his eyes still closed.

“Well, your deploy has just left the room,” Mr. Stark says and that makes Peter bolt out of his bed.

Trying to find Ada, he runs out into the living room where he finds Clint and Miss Romanoff in the kitchen. And the archer has a fluffy, white-beige kitten in his hands. Peter comes to a halt in front of them.

“Are you looking for this predator?” Clint asks, scratching the cat’s ear. Ada is purring gratefully in his hands.

The boy nods and takes a seat at the table.

“You were right, Nat, she’s really cute,” the archer says.

Behind them, Mr. Stark grabs a mug from the cupboard and fills it with hot, steaming coffee. “Friday, why didn’t you tell me that there was an animal in here?”

Peter eyes the man worried. He doesn’t know what Mr. Stark thinks. Is he mad? Will he tell Peter to get rid of Ada? Will he ground him for bringing her home without asking?

“I have currently no protocol regarding animals, boss,” the AI explains.

“Well, I wonder why that is. Oh wait, I know because we have never had animals in here,” he frowns and sips some coffee.

“Mr. Stark, I’m so sorry, I know I shouldn’t have brought her here but I couldn’t leave her on the street. Or in that dumpster where I found her,” Peter says weakly. “It was late, the shelters were all closed and she was alone out there, hungry and cold.”

He raises his gaze at the man and he can see how his look suddenly changes. His eyes turn soft. Because Mr. Stark understands. Of course he does. Peter doesn’t need to say more, Mr. Stark knows what he means. Why he couldn’t leave Ada behind.

Mr. Stark walks to the table and sits down. “But the shelters are open now, kid,” he says softly, looking at the boy.

Peter stares down at her hands on the table. “I know,” he mutters.

“But you don’t want to take her there,” Mr. Stark sighs.

The boy can feel his eyes on him but he doesn’t want to look up. He just shakes his head.

“Oh, Pete,” the man groans and from the corner of his eye, Peter can see him sweeping a hand through his hair. “It’s a cat, kid. A real cat, a living animal. Do you really think this is the right place for her?”

And the boy can see an opening. Mr. Stark didn’t say no. Okay, he didn’t say yes either, but he didn’t say no. He didn’t tell Peter to take the cat to a shelter; he didn’t say she couldn’t stay here. Peter just need to convince him to let Ada stay.

“I-I can take care of her!” he claims, suddenly looking up. “I mean I’ll do everything, I promise. I’ll feed her and clean up after her, I’ll take her to the vet, I’ll do everything, I swear. Please, Mr. Stark, please!”

“I don’t know, Pete, I-“

“Please, Mr. Stark,” the boy continues begging. “She won’t be a problem, I promise.”

The man lets out a big breath and glances over at the kitten in Clint’s hands. “Does she have a name?”

“Ada,” Peter replies.

“Shit,” Mr. Stark says, propping head in his hands.

“Kid’s already given her a name, he knows he lost,” Clint snickers.

“I know, right?” Miss Romanoff smirks beside him.

Mr. Stark glimpses at Peter. “Ada? Like…?”

“Lovelace,” the boy nods.

“Double shit,” the man groans.

“I don’t get it,” the archer remarks, furrowing his brow.

“Ada Lovelace, one of the greatest mathematicians ever,” Mr. Stark mutters, rubbing his eyes.

Clint laughs. “Oh man. You really lost. But look at this cutie, how could you say no to her?” he asks, holding up the tiny kitten.

Mr. Stark shakes his head and stands up, grabbing his mug. He walks back to the coffee maker for another refill. “I could easily say no to that cat,” he states and turns to Peter. He looks him in the eye and smiles at him.

Peter smiles back. Because he knows what’s left unsaid. Mr. Stark could say no to the cat but he couldn’t say no to Peter.

Chapter Text

Returning from patrol in Queens, Peter lands smoothly on the top of the Tower, mimicking his mentor’s signature landing position. He laughs and turns to one of the many security cameras all around. “Friday, you need to show this to Mr. Stark.”

“Of course, Peter,” the AI replies.

The boy walks to the door and enters the penthouse. “Mr. Stark, I’m home,” he announces cheerfully. “Nothing important to report, just a few muggers and a dog thief. Seriously, what kind of person steals a dog? That’s so mean.”

No one answers him, but he doesn’t care, he knows Mr. Stark always waits for him to arrive, he must be close, he might be in his room. Peter walks into the kitchen, grabs an apple from the counter and yanks off his mask. Biting into the fruit, he turns around and notices a figure standing at the elevator. And that person is definitely not Mr. Stark.

Why didn’t he see him when he was walking through the apartment? And why didn’t his sense warn him?

Rooted to the spot, he swallows hard and stares at the stranger. The man is tall, muscular and has blonde hair. He wears jeans and a leather jacket and has a duffel bag in his hands. As if he has just arrived from a journey. And he seems just as shocked as Peter, watching him with wide eyes. Like he’s home and Peter is an intruder.

He’s…

“Cap-Captain?” the kid finally manages. “Big fan. Spiderman.”

Steve Rogers opens his mouth to reply but before he could say anything, the elevator door opens behind him. Mr. Stark and Clint enter, laughing hard.

“Alright, Legolas, you owe me ten bucks,” Mr. Stark grins, reaching out a hand toward Clint. In the other one, he’s holding Ada, the tiny cat comfortably sleeping in his grip. “I told you the kid would be the first to speak. I knew this little fanboy wouldn’t be able to remain silent, no matter how star struck he is.”

Clint glares, pulls out his wallet from his pocket and hands Mr. Stark the money. Then he walks up to Captain Rogers and pats him on the shoulders. “Thanks, man, I’ve just lost ten bucks because of you. You should have asked the little one what he was doing here, not just standing there in shock. What kind of Avenger are you, getting scared of a child?” he scolds his friend and strides to the refrigerator to grab a soda.

Peter frowns. Were Mr. Stark and Clint watching them? Was it all a setup? They probably knew that Captain Rogers would arrive tonight, at the time of Peter’s curfew. Obviously, they decided to wait and see what would happen.

“What… what is going on?” the Captain asks apparently still in shock, staring at Clint. Before the archer could answer, he turns to Mr. Stark. “Tony, who’s this kid?”

A huge smile spreads across Mr. Stark’s face as he walks to Peter, who just stands there, fidgeting with his mask in his hands. The man puts an arm around his shoulders. “Cap, this is Peter, my son,” he explains proudly.

Peter blushes and he guesses this will never stop. Every time he hears Mr. Stark introducing him as his son, he’ll blush. He’ll never get used to this. And he’ll always be so very happy about it.

“Your son?” Captain Rogers asks stunned. “Spiderman is your son?”

The boy’s face goes red again. Does this mean Captain America has heard of him? He really knows about Spiderman? It’s awesome! On second thought, Peter has just introduced himself as Spiderman, so the Captain might have never heard the name before.

“Yes, my son is Spiderman,” Mr. Stark nods. “Although I like to call him Peter. It’s a long story and I’ll tell you all about it later. Anyway, welcome home, Cap.”

Captain Rogers seems unable to take his eyes off Peter and Mr. Stark. He’s staring at them as if they’re some kind of aliens. Clearly, he can’t wrap his head around the latest events at the Tower. Not that Peter could blame him. He knows the Captain left many weeks ago to train with the army at several bases out of the country. Mr. Stark said he was touring all around the world like a rock star. No, Mr. Stark used the word ‘popstar’. When Captain Rogers left, Mr. Stark was living alone in his penthouse and now he has a teenage son. No wonder he looks so confused.

“Anyway, I know no introduction is necessary, but Peter, this is Steve Rogers,” Mr. Stark says, still grinning. He obviously enjoys the Captain’s confusion way too much.

“Right, sorry,” the Captain says and reaches out his hand. “Call me Steve. Or Cap.”

Peter shakes Steve’s hand and thinks Ned will freak out when he tells him about this. That he has just met another Avenger. Captain America himself. Ned’s gonna die of excitement.

“I guess you two will get along really well,” Mr. Stark tells them while scratching Ada’s ear. “Both of you are annoyingly polite and strong.”

Steve quirks an eyebrow but remains silent. Peter knows what he must think, though. The man doesn’t believe he’s strong. Right, he still looks scrawny, no matter how much he eats. His metabolism is so high that he will probably never gain much weight. He will always look thin and no one will ever believe he’s actually strong. Which is kinda helpful when he fights criminals, they always underestimate him.

“I know, right?” Clint laughs, walking up to them and offering a soda to Steve. “He looks like a scarecrow even in this cool suit that Stark made him. But trust me, Cap, he’s probably as strong as you. Not that I have seen him fighting myself, Stark doesn’t allow him to train with us.”

Peter finds it a little weird that the Avengers are all talking about him and staring at him, while he’s just standing there awkwardly and doesn’t say a word. Of course it’s really cool that they are talking about him, so he would never complain. But it still feels weird.

And naturally, it’s Mr. Stark who notices his embarrassment first.

“Alright, folks, it’s really late now and this young superhero here has school tomorrow,” he says and nods his head toward Peter’s room.

“But Mr. Stark!” the boy protests out of habit. Because he actually feels really tired and sleep sounds amazing.

“He’s your son and he calls you Mr. Stark?” Steve asks. Peter feels a bit offended that the Captain speaks like he’s not there. He has already shaken his hand, he could actually talk to him now.

“Yeah, old habits obviously die hard. Like really hard,” Mr. Stark winks at Peter and he smiles back at him. He remembers when he ran away and Mr. Stark found him in his old warehouse, he asked Peter to call him Tony. And he asked several times after that. But Peter just can’t make himself call the man Tony. No, he will always be Mr. Stark to him and he thinks Mr. Stark has already given up trying to convince Peter to use his first name.

“Kid, it’s way past your bedtime and you have a Spanish test tomorrow, right?” the man reminds him. “If you screw up, I’ll reprogram Karen to respond only when you speak in Spanish to her.”

“You would never do that,” Peter replies, giving the man a daring look. “It would be really dangerous if Karen couldn’t help me during fight because I don’t know how to say ‘Instant Kill’ in Spanish.”

“Smartass,” Mr. Stark chuckles and hands him Ava. “Look, your little monster is already sleeping. Follow her example and go to bed.”

“Fine,” the boy sighs defeated and takes the kitten into his hands. “Good night, everyone.”

“It’s been nice to meet you, Peter,” Steve says and gives him a smile.

“Buenas noches,” Clint grins.

“Night, kid. Nice work with the dog thief,” Mr. Stark laughs.

Peter rolls his eyes and waves at them. He’s absolutely sure that the men will stay in the living room and talk about him all night. Mr. Stark promised Steve to tell everything and they will probably discuss everything now, from their first encounter at the bank in Queens until they signed the adoption papers. And Peter wants to hear it all. He wants to know what Steve will say. He wants to know if he agrees with the adoption. There were times when Peter thought Mr. Stark would come to regret his decision to take him in. He doesn’t believe that anymore. Now he really believes that Mr. Stark wants him to stay for good. And that’s what the boy wants too. It would be nice to hear Steve’s opinion, though. Man, he really freaked out when he saw Peter!

So all he needs to do is to stay put in his bed and eavesdrop. Super hearing is awesome. It’s a simple plan. He just can’t allow himself to fall asleep.

Turns out, easier said than done. Because as soon as his head hits the pillow, he’s out like a light.