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“-And another thing! Those tips you gave me? Useless! I just wasted half a million dollars and two weeks of effort and I am still no closer to Spider-Man!” Tony lifted his head from where he had let it drop onto the desk.
“My bad, Thaddy-O.” He snarked.
“Call me that again and I’ll have your ass on the raft before you can say hulk.” Ross growled.
“Yeah, I’m gonna hold you to that. See ya, Thad.”
“Don’t you dare hang up, Stark-” Ross hollered, and was cut off when Tony promptly hung up.
The billionaire stood up, groaning as his back protested, muscles stiff from sitting in that chair all damn day. He knew about the call, heck, he had scheduled it, but that didn’t make interacting with Secretary Ross any more bearable. Part of him wondered if pardoning the Rogues had been worth it, now that he had to put up with that guy screaming about anything and everything for hours on end. Being SHIELD’s liaison really sucked.
Especially now that his latest fixation was on one web-slinging vigilante. The one thing Tony knew he absolutely, positively, could not give up to him. Or any shady government organization, really. He was too young to sign the accords anyway, but if they knew that? Whoo boy. That was a whole other debacle he did not want to deal with.
So, for the time being, Tony would just keep giving him the barest details, little half-truths that should keep him off the kid’s back for a while. Still, he worried that Ross would somehow manage to glean some actual information off of him, or hack into his private servers, or worse yet, get tired of Tony’s cheap tricks and send someone actually competent after the vigilante.
But that hadn’t happened yet. That he was aware of. So he was going to keep on as if it hadn’t and just do his best to keep Peter out of harm’s way.
“Take me to the shop, FRI.” he muttered, stepping onto the elevator. The AI seemed to realize he was on the verge of a nasty migraine, and the elevator began traveling downwards without a word.
Really, Tony just wanted to go to sleep, maybe watch a nice movie or something. But Peter was patrolling tonight, and he liked to keep an eye on the kid. And with the Secretary snooping around, he couldn’t take any chances. As he walked in, he resisted the urge to start the coffee pot. He had told Pepper he’d be coming to bed, even if it would be a little later, and he didn’t particularly want to rescind that promise.
So, he got to work. Kind of. He wasn’t actually getting much done, just sluggishly messing around with the blueprints for some old ideas. A glance at his watch alerted him to the thirty minute warning on the kid’s curfew, and he sighed in relief. That should mean he was on his way back to his apartment, so far unharmed, and Tony could finally go to sleep with little fear of him getting himself killed or captured.
He rose from the stool he had been occupying, ignoring the continuous tweaking of his muscles, and began to make his way back to the elevator.
“Sir, Peter appears to be in distress.” Damn it.
“What? What do you mean in distress? Is he hurt?” Tony huffed, massaging the bridge of his nose.
“KAREN’s injury report is normal, but his heart rate and blood pressure have spiked significantly, and he is not responding to KAREN.” She reported.
“Okay, call him.” he ordered, sinking back down on the stool. A series of beeps sounded as he was connected to KAREN in Peter’s suit, and the workshop was filled with the sound of the kid sniffling. Oh shit.
“K-Karen I told y-you not to, to call him.” Peter stammered. Tony felt his chest tighten at the sound of his kid’s tear-choked voice.
“Pete? What’s wrong? Talk to me kid.” He asked.
“It’s no-nothing, Mr. Stark, I, I’m s-sorry,” Peter whimpered, and to Tony’s horror, started crying harder.
“Whoah, hey, calm down,” he said quickly, mind jumping from scenario to horrible scenario of what could have possibly gotten the kid so upset so fast, “Are you okay, bud? Hurt?”
“N-No, I” The teen choked out, and then dissolved back into wet sobs. Well, at least he wasn’t bleeding out in an alley somewhere. But there were still a billion things that could be going wrong.
“Do you need me to come get you?” Tony pressed. Maybe he could narrow it down a bit.
“Nuh-uh.” Peter hiccuped.
“Can you get to the Tower?” He continued, silently pulling up a screen and typing in a code. A little blinking dot lit up on a grid map of New York, about a ten minute journey from the Tower, as the spider swings.
“Mm-hm.” The kid responded, and Tony heard shuffling in the background, like he was getting up.
“Alright. I’m in the workshop, I’ll leave the window open. You know where, right?” He asked softly, and Peter gave a mumbled agreement.
“Good. I’ll see you in ten.”
Peter hung up, and the billionaire sent a quick text to his Aunt, letting her know her nephew would be back late, and then was left to spend the next ten minutes stewing in his thoughts. What the hell made his kid so distraught? Did he see something he couldn’t handle? Or God forbid, do something? He knew Peter had been through a lot, probably had some sort of PTSD, but he should really be going to a therapist for that, not some unstable genius who had enough of his own problems.
Or did someone figure out who he was? With Ross’s threats looming over his head night and day, he couldn’t deny that it was a very real possibility, one that terrified him to his core. He desperately hoped that wasn’t it.
Tony spent the next six minutes watching the screen as the little red dot inched its way closer to him and tried not to give himself a panic attack. Which was easier said than done, until he reminded himself that the teenager currently swinging his way over was upset enough as it is. He really didn’t need to show up to see his hero/mentor freaking out.
So when he heard the faint thwips of webbing hitting glass, he took a deep breath and composed himself. Whatever was coming, he could handle it. Peter needed him to.
Suddenly, Peter shot through the window in a red and blue blur, tumbling on the floor until he came to a stop. Tony cursed and ran over to him, skidding on his knees by the side of the trembling teenager. Who was still crying, and cradling something small in his arms.
“FRIDAY, run a scan.” He called, placing a gentle hand on Peter’s shoulder to let him know he was there.
“No signs of injury or illness found, boss." FRIDAY responded. Which only served to make Tony more nervous.
“Hey, hey, look at me, underoos.” He murmured, and the kid lifted his head from the floor, the mechanical eyes of the suit whirring as they widened. The red of his mask was darkened with moisture below his eyes, and Tony didn’t need to take it off to know what he would find. But he did anyway.
“Here, lemme get this off of you.” he suggested quietly, to which Peter vigorously shook his head.
“N-No, you don’t, don’t h-have to.” he whined, trying to move his head away from his mentor’s hands, which was difficult when he was laying on the floor.
“Ah, ah, ah, nope, no but’s, until I figure out what’s up, the mask is coming off.” Tony chided, and the teen stilled, reluctantly allowing the man to carefully slide his mask off.
Peter averted his gaze as the fabric slid from his red rimmed eyes, still shining with tears. His curly hair was limp and matted with sweat, and his chin trembled with every pathetic sniffle. It was a sorry sight indeed, and each tiny shiver under Tony’s hand made his heart clench. He needed to do something.
His hand had moved from the kid’s shoulder to cupping his cheek before he could even consider it, but it seemed to be the right move as Peter leaned into the touch with a sigh. His heart clenched again, but… in a good way? He’d think about that later. Now he needed to figure out what the hell was going on.
“Okay kiddo, can you tell me what happened? I can’t help if I don’t know.” Tony mumbled. Peter met his eyes for the briefest of moments, then looked away as a new wave of sobs wracked his body.
“Oh, shit, uh, it’s alright, bud, don’t cry,” he panicked, brushing away the tears with the pad of his thumb in an effort to console the weeping teen. He did not sign up for this.
“We’ll, uh, we’ll just start small then, alright?” Peter nodded, “Okay, so, how about you show me what you’re holding.” Peter shook his head again, squeezing whatever it was tighter to himself.
“No.” he whimpered, pulling away from his mentor’s touch.
“Why not, Pete?” Tony pressed, opting instead to card his fingers through the kid’s sweaty locks. It felt oddly natural, not weird or gross at all.
“S-stupid.” Peter muttered wetly. Well, that didn’t help at all.
“Stupid? You aren’t stupid, Peter. Whatever it is, I’ll, we’ll get through it.” Tony insisted, but his protege shook his head again, pulling himself into a sitting position, still facing away from his mentor.
“No,” he said, gesturing to whatever he was holding,”this, it’s, it’s stupid, K-karen shouldn’tve, uhm, called y-you.”
“If it makes you this upset, it isn’t stupid, and I’m glad you called me,” Tony protested, putting his hands on Peter’s shoulders and turning the kid around to face him, “so show me what you have.” Peter raised his head, glancing at Tony before averting his eyes and opening his arms.
The man looked down, half expecting to see a- well, he didn’t know what he expected, but it certainly wasn’t a plush Spider-Man. A plush Spider-Man that was currently being embraced by the red and blue clad arms of the real deal.
Sitting there, cross legged on the floor, eyes teary and cheeks flushed, clutching on to the stuffed hero, Tony couldn’t help but think about how damn young he looked.
“S-see? ‘S stupid.” he hiccuped, new tears trailing down his face to drip onto the plush and his legs.
For a second Tony just sat there, staring at the teen crying on his floor, unable to do anything other than think about how the hell he got into this situation. And what he would give for him to stop crying. Something stirred in him, something deep and oddly… parental? Is that what this was?
He scooted forward and embraced Peter, wrapping his arms around his back, one hand cradling his head against his chest. Peter leaned into him, fisting his hands in the fabric of Tony’s shirt.
“S-s-sorry.” He whimpered. Tony hushed him, pulling him closer.
“Nothing to be sorry about, underoos.”
They sat there for a while, Tony wasn’t counting the minutes, but it was long enough for Peter’s breaths to stop hitching, and for his back to start really aching. Some Tylenol would be great, but that would mean standing up. He wasn’t sure if he could, for various reasons. Actually, he wasn’t even sure if he wanted to. Despite the gradually growing pain in his extremities, he felt rather peaceful. If that was even the right word. Tony sighed, wondering when he had become okay with being cried on by a super-powered teenager.
Unfortunately, Peter seemed to take the movement as a signal to get off of him.
“I’m sorry Mr. Stark,” he faltered, moving away from his mentor,”I really, uh, don’t know why that all happened.”
“You don’t have to apologize Peter, I’m not mad.” Tony frowned.
“Well, yeah, but I probably owe you an explanation.” Peter sighed. Tony nodded, and with a grunt pushed himself from the floor, offering the boy a hand.
“This seems like a couch conversation. C’mon.” he said, pulling Peter to his feet.
“Definitely. It’ll probably make you feel better too.” The kid mused.
“Whatever could you mean?”
“I can literally hear all your joints when you move, Mr. Stark.” Peter stated flatly. His mentor shot him an incredulous look.
“That’s freaky as hell, kid.” He muttered, guiding the vigilante to the ratty but well-loved couch in the corner of the workshop. He flopped down, patting the cushion beside him. Peter sank into the seat, still clutching the mini Spider-Man.
“Uhm, so I, uh,” he began, closing his eyes and taking a shaky breath.
“It’s okay bud,” Tony soothed, “take your time. I already texted your aunt, and I’ve got nowhere to be, so there’s no rush.” Peter gave a jerky nod.
“Could we, uh, get some hot chocolate?” he asked softly.
“Of course, Pete. I’ll be right back.” the man replied.
By the time Tony returned with two steaming mugs of cocoa, Peter seemed to have calmed significantly.
“Thanks Mr. Stark.” he sighed, holding his favorite Star Wars mug close to his chest.
“No problem, kiddo. Think you’re all good now?” Tony asked, taking a sip of his own drink. The vigilante nodded determinedly.
“Uh-huh. Like I said, it’s dumb so I don’t know why I got so worked up about it, but here goes.”
“Still not dumb.” His mentor interjected, earning himself an elbow to the ribs.
“Hey! I’m talking!” Peter chided,” but basically, I saved this lady from a mugging, standard stuff, but she was like, super excited to see me, and said she had at her apartment to give me.”
“Please tell me you didn’t go into some random stranger’s house.” Tony groaned.
“What? No! I waited on the fire escape.” The teen exclaimed indignantly, crossing his arms with a huff. Tony rolled his eyes and motioned for him to go on.
“So anyway, she comes out and gives this to me, and tells me she made it. I’m blown away, of course, so I ask her why she went to all the trouble of making it. And she said that, I uh,” Peter trailed off, pausing to blink away the tears threatening to spill,” that I saved her uncle. Robbery. Happened a few weeks ago. I think I remember him.”
“Oh, Pete.” Tony breathed, staring at the kid sniffling and clinging to a stuffed version of himself. No wonder he was so shaken up. Ben was a sensitive subject, about all he knew was how he died, Peter’s involvement, and that the boy loved his uncle to pieces.
“But, uh then she started crying. Her Dad, he wasn’t around much, when she was younger, y’know? But her uncle, he really kinda stepped up. He basically was her dad. She’s twenty-two now, I think, has her own place and stuff, but they’re still real close. I think I started crying around then.” Peter grinned weakly when his mentor hesitantly began rubbing comforting circles on his back.
“And that’s when KAREN called me.” Tony surmised. At this, his protege looked away, shifting nervously in his seat.
“Uh, well, actually,” he hesitated, “I knew she’d call you, and you’d freak out, so I told her not to… andthenItookoffthemask.”
Tony couldn’t tell which of his emotions took precedence at the moment, but shock, anger, confusion, and fear were all good candidates.
“You took off your mask? What the hell were you thinking?” he demanded, turning to look Peter in the eyes. Peter glanced down, squeezing the doll tighter.
“Well, I was thinking that she asked me why I was crying too, and that uh, that that wasn’t really a Spider-Man conversation.” he mumbled.
God, this kid. You could practically see the earnest vulnerability coming off of him. Of course he would risk his closely guarded identity just to relate to someone in need. This was gonna give Tony a heart attack one of these days. But at the same time, an odd sense of pride swelled in him.
“So, you told her about Ben?”
“Y-yeah,” Peter replied, swallowing thickly, “yeah, we talked about all that a little longer, then I realized what time it was, so we hugged and and I left. Swinging back home mostly calmed me down, but, but then-” He broke off into choked sobs that he quickly suppressed.
“It’s fine, Pete, you don’t have to keep going.” Tony urged, grabbing Peter’s arm with his free hand to stop him from scrubbing at the tears rolling down his face.
“N-no Mr. stark, I-I want to.” he choked out. His mentor nodded silently, and continued with the calming motions until the boy had sipped enough of his cocoa to continue.
“Then I guess I just got to thinking, if I was able to save her uncle Xavier, why couldn’t I save my uncle Ben?” He sniffled, “So, so I took a break, and sat on a roof, and I just kept thinking and I couldn’t stop, so that’s where I really lost it, and Karen called you.”
“Kid, I-”
“An-and I just keep thinking, do I even deserve this,” He continued wetly, gesturing to the plush, “ do I even deserve this if I can’t even save the people close to me? What if, what if Ben is mad? That I saved Xavier and not him?” His voice cracked on the last word, and Tony’s heart went with it.
“Peter. Look at me.” Tony said firmly, turning the kid to face him, but Peter’s eyes focused on everything but him, darting around to look at everything but the man in front of him.
“No, actually look at me, Peter.” he insisted, and the boy finally did, staring up at him. His intelligent brown eyes glistened with tears, and he looked so very lost.
“I’ll tell you why you couldn’t save your uncle. That was, what, a year and a half ago, and you had just gotten your powers, right?” Peter gave an almost imperceptible nod, “that's a hell of a different scenario than a few weeks ago. You weren’t out there in a multi-million dollar suit, months on months of experience under your belt, looking for bad guys to stop. You were a scared thirteen year old kid, who didn’t even know what he was capable of.”
“B-but I, he was,” Peter protested, but his mentor hushed him.
“No. whatever the reason you were out that night, it’s still not your fault. Ben is your uncle, your parent. He knew what he was signing up for,” Tony stated, “And there’s no way in hell he’s mad at you. From what you and your aunt have told me, he’d be ecstatic you were using your abilities to help people, especially people like that lady, who would’ve had to go through the same thing you did.” he took a breath and glanced at Peter, still staring at him with his trusting, hopeful eyes. When the hell did he get so sappy?
“And if Ben is anything like me, I know he’s so, so damn proud of you, Peter. And don’t you ever think otherwise.” He finished.
“Really?” Peter asked, voice barely a whisper.
“Really. Now c’mere.” Tony affirmed, opening his arms. Peter immediately fell into them, sobbing into his mentor’s shoulder. Tony rested his cheek on the crown of the kids head mumbling assurances as the kid wept.
“It’s alright, buddy, let it out.” he soothed.
The kid’s sobs turned into hiccups, and soon he was back to breathing normally, albeit with a slight hitch every now and then.
“Ben was always the one who would comfort me, when, uh, I was upset about my mom and dad,” Peter suddenly spoke up, not bothering to unbury his face from Tony’s shirt, “I still really miss him, but um, I’m glad you’re here.”
Tony couldn’t stop the smile that forced its way onto his face. This kid.
“I’m glad you’re here too, Peter.” he murmured.
They sat there for a little while longer, until Tony realized that Peter was completely and totally zonked. Out like a light. And for that matter, he was pretty damn tired too.
“FRIDAY, send a text to May, let her know Peter’s staying over, I can take him to school in the morning anyway. Actually, let Pepper know too.” He whispered, a low hum the only indication the AI had heard him.
Sitting up on the couch was not a good way to spend the night, especially at Tony’s age, so he carefully slid down, grabbing one of the cushions to use as a pillow, making sure not to jostle the kid as he slept.
Laying there with Peter on his chest, Spider-Man doll still held snugly to the kid, Tony drifted off, thinking for a second about how peaceful and, well,familial, it all felt.
It was nice.