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“Ah, well,” Tony said, awkwardly patting Gwen’s shoulder as she sat on the couch in front of him on the top floor of Stark Tower, “Sometimes … sometimes life happens and there’s really nothing you can do about it.” Granted, he didn’t even know why he had a drunken Gwen Stacy show up at his door. She had given his address to the newbie cop who didn’t know who her father was or where she lived, and claimed that she was his daughter. Her fake ID apparently said Cadence Stark and, to be honest, it wouldn’t have come as a surprise if Tony had a few illegitimate kids running around. She had gotten caught drinking outside of Oscorp and why she went there, Tony was clueless to her reasons.
Had Gwen been more sober, she would have shot him the nastiest stinkeye she could manage but she was crying too hard to pull up a decent glare and her cheeks were red and Tony was a little nervous. He had never done well with kids, even when he himself was a kid and if Pepper were here, he would have her handle this while he watched from a safe distance, where he couldn’t fuck everything up. But Pepper was in DC on business and she refused to come home, Tony had called her, leaving Tony attempting to comfort the crying seventeen year old on his couch. “Just … god, Stark, just shut up,” she managed to choke out between sobs and reached for another tissue from the box on the coffee table next to Tony.
He sighed, running a hand through his hair before deciding to try a different approach. “Why did you come here, Gwen?”
She shrugged. “I-I … I don’t know. It’s the year anniversary of my dad’s death and I-I can’t go to Peter because he feels guilty and .. I didn’t know where else to go.” She broke off into another sob, slender shoulders shaking as she dropped her head into her hands. In that moment, Tony understood. He lost his parents when he was a kid, and it was public knowledge. Gwen didn’t need someone would would apologize. She needed someone would tell her everything was going to be alright.
Problem was… he didn’t think he was that person.
“Gwen … why aren’t you home? With your mom?”
“She … she’s too busy drinking herself asleep.” But her Gwen was, drunk off her ass, trying to do the same exact thing. “I-I c-can’t put my brothers through having both of us drunk.” Not to mention, she was the late chief of police’s daughter, everyone expected her to be home and she wasn’t going to be home and drunk. That was just asking for trouble. He moved closer, nearly sliding off the coffee table to pull her hands from her face and hold them in his.
He sighed. “Look, I know you’re grieving but I’m going to be blunt with you. Getting drunk isn’t going to bring your dad back,” He knows, he’s tried, “And sure, it’ll ease the pain for awhile, but then you become dependant,” tried that too, “And in the end, you’re going to end up an alcoholic who will have lost most of your family because they won’t want to be around you while you’re actively ruining your life. You’ll be by yourself, depressed, alone, and quite possibly suicidal.”
The sobbing had subsided some, mostly replaced by hiccups as she took in a few steadying breaths. “You don’t know that.”
“I don’t?” he asked, looking up at her with eyebrows raised. “Gwen, I lived that. What you’re going through is exactly what I went through. The only difference is that my alcoholism got started early.” He got a bottle of water from the fridge, trying to force back the pain he felt starting to come over him, making his heart sink in his chest and his stomach twist. He blinked a few times before he returned to the couch, handing over the bottle. “Drink this. All of it. You’re probably not going to remember this.” His voice was cold, colder than Gwen had ever heard before but she took the water bottle and drank the contents, setting down on the coffee table. Tony ran a hand over his stubble. “Down the hall, third left. You can stay over because I don’t feel like walking you home and you’d probably end up dead if you went by yourself.”
Gwen didn’t protest, following his directions down to that third room on the left hand side and sat down on the bed long enough for Tony to bring her a pair of Pepper’s pajama pants and a tee shirt. Of course, she had told him what to do, now that he had a drunk, crying teenager staying the night at his place. “Here. Go to sleep, kid.”
And that is the story of how Gwen got a permanent room at Stark Tower.