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Peter practically skipped out of Midtown Tech on Friday afternoon, the fact that his sweatshirt, which was soaked with milk courtesy of Flash Thompson and his goons, was stuffed into his bag and probably messing up his papers not bothering him in the slightest. He waved goodbye to Ned and felt a grin spread across his face as Happy pulled into the school’s parking lot. He bounced on his toes, an eagerness he hadn’t felt in quite a while flooding through every bone in his body.
“Hey Happy!” he called, waving to the older man.
Happy somehow managed to look disgruntled and amused at the same time- a feat that no one could pull off quite as well as he did. “That excited?” the man raised an eyebrow, resting his arm on the passenger's seat and peering behind to watch Peter as he jumped into the backseat.
Peter’s grin widened. “Mr. Stark said he was giving me a break for a little bit!” He slammed the door behind him, reaching over for the seatbelt.
“And you’re excited about that? I thought those lab days were, as you put it, ‘essential to your survival?’”
Peter laughed at the memory, but answered the man’s question nonetheless. “Spidey got us injured, remember?”
“Us?”
”Peter!”
Shit.
“Oh, sorry, weird- metaphor,” Peter said awkwardly, cringing and scratching the back of his head. ’Bad time to join the conversation, Al,’ he snipped.
”Sorry, sorry. Spidey’s getting antsy back here.”
”Dumbass, answer Happy’s question,” the vigilante chimed in.
Peter blinked. Right. “I got injured on patrol a few days ago.”
Happy’s eyebrow raised again, but he thankfully didn’t question it. “So Tony’s letting you off the hook?”
“Yep,” Peter popped the “p,” grateful for the change of subject, “he wants me to rest up a bit before I go back to doing anything strenuous, which apparently includes working in the lab. I don’t see how that’s strenuous, but go off, I guess.”
“Go off I gue…? You know what, I’m not even gonna question it,” Happy sighed, turning to face forward. He pulled out of the parking lot, face wrinkling in disgust at the students who turned to gape at the car. “You’re excited about not being in the lab?”
”Oh definitely,” Spidey grumbled sarcastically. Peter inwardly sighed- Spidey was still a little annoyed at not being allowed to go on patrol, but after Alex chewed him out, he agreed to let Peter front for the time being- something about Peter needing to “bond with Mr. Stark,” to quote directly from what he’d said.
“Um,” Peter filled the silence, “Mr. Stark agreed to watch a movie with me, and I’ve had a really stressful week, so…”
Happy grunted in what Peter believed to be in understanding, and for once he didn’t roll up the divider. Peter and Happy sat in a comfortable silence for the rest of the ride, Peter closing his eyes to try and rid himself of the steadily-increasing pressure behind his eyes.
For whatever reason, the people in the headspace were chatty today. Peter leaned his forehead against the window and took deep, measured breaths as he tried to block out the never-ceasing chatter between Alex, Spidey, and one of the littles. He wasn’t sure which one it was- according to Alex, there were six littles in total, but Peter had only met Jax and Finley, so he wasn’t sure about the validity of those claims.
“Kid? We’re here,” Happy called, turning around halfway.
“Hm?” Peter snapped awake, wondering when he’d drifted off, and noticed where he was. “Oh.”
Happy snorted. “C’mon kid, if you wait any longer, Tony’s gonna get gray hairs. I’ll never hear the end of it.”
Peter nodded, sliding out of the car. He blinked slowly, sucking in a shaky breath. ’Five things… I can see,’ he thought to himself, trying to walk through some of the grounding exercises his- well, their- therapist had taught them. ’Car, Happy, pavement, tower, clouds. Four things I can hear…’
“Peter.”
“Hm?” Peter acknowledged, feeling a bit more like himself. He shook himself out of his haze and began pacing towards the building, the sound of Happy driving away working to further ground him. He clenched his fists, feeling his nails dig into the palms of his hands, and stepped inside.
“Peter!” Macy- one of the receptionists- called, her smile as cheery as ever. Peter smiled weakly in return. “Mr. Stark is waiting for you- shall I let him know you’re here?”
“Nah, that’s okay,” he said, readjusting his backpack, “he’s gonna see me in a minute or two. How’s Kelly?”
Macy beamed at the mention of her wife, eyes widening in excitement behind her glasses. “She’s doing well, thank you for asking!”
“How far along are you guys?” Peter asked, slowing his pace a little before he stopped in front of the receptionist’s desk.
“Eight months,” Macey grinned, “due April fifteenth.” The receptionist tilted her head down, gently rubbing her pregnant stomach.
“Eight months in and you’re still coming to work?” Peter whistled, impressed. Alex seemed to agree, voicing her own amazement.
“Gotta make money somehow,” she shrugged. “This job pays well. Besides, Mr. Stark said if I come in until the baby, I can get a whole year for maternity leave! Isn’t that amazing? A whole year!”
Peter felt a genuine smile creep across his face, some of the week’s stress melting away at Macy’s excitement. “Paid?”
“Yep!” She nodded, red curls bouncing up and down. “Mr. Stark is such an amazing boss.”
Peter hummed, the spaciness from before creeping back in ever so slightly as Spidey inched forward, no doubt from the mention of his mentor.
“Well, I gotta go see Mr. Stark,” Peter said, gently slapping his hands on the desk before moving away. He felt like he was drifting, his lips numb and not working quite right. “See ya,” he managed to say, every word dripping from his mouth as slow and as difficult as molasses. He offered a half-hearted wave and stepped onto the elevator.
“Can you guys butt out for a minute?” he gritted as soon as the doors closed behind him.
”Sorry, Petey-Pie,” Alex said sheepishly, ”just making sure you’re doing okay.”
Spidey offered some form of explanation, but Peter was too lost in his own fit of dissociation to notice it. He blinked, and suddenly he was on the top floor, the vastness of the penthouse spread out in front of him.
“Did one of you just take over?” he asked, voice quiet in case anyone else happened to be on the upper level.
”That was Kaylee,” Alex explained, ”she’s been wanting to meet everyone. I told her to go back, don’t worry.”
“Kaylee? Is that the little I heard earlier?” Peter asked, stepping out of the elevator. He greeted FRIDAY and quickly turned back to the conversation.
”Yeah,” Spidey confirmed, ”She’s real nice. You guys should get to know each other sometime.”
“Keagan only lets me into the tower,” Peter grumbled, head swiveling around to look for Mr. Stark. He frowned when he didn’t see him, but plopped himself down on the couch nonetheless. He made sure to deposit his dirty backpack by the door so it didn’t mess up Mr. Stark’s no doubt very expensive sofa.
”He’s still a little jumpy,” Alex sighed, and Peter could almost picture her shaking her head. ”Even though we got diagnosed two months ago, he’s still trying to come to terms with it.”
“Two months isn’t a very long time,” Peter muttered. Alex hummed.
”I guess so.”
Alex fell quiet. Peter shivered, a tingle of something shooting up his arm.
”Mr. Stark’s here!” Spidey squealed, leaping up to the front. Peter groaned and pressed a hand to his face, dreading the blending he knew was sure to follow. Sure enough, moments later, Peter and Spiderman (they’d agreed a few weeks ago to call their blended self “Pan.” A stupid name really, but it did the job.) turned towards the elevator.
Pan leapt off of the couch, hurtling themself into Mr. Stark’s arms. “Oof!” the man grunted, stumbling back in surprise. “Miss me, kid?”
Pan raised their head, looking up at their mentor in excitement. “Definitely, old man.”
Mr. Stark huffed good-naturedly at the endearment and ruffled their hair. Pan blushed at the gesture and wiggled their way out of their mentor’s arms. Mr. Stark wrinkled his nose at the scent of the backpack by the door. “What’s this?”
“Spilled milk on it,” Pan quickly fibbed, scampering back over to the couch. “My books are in there, so I gotta wait til I get home to dry ‘em out.”
Mr. Stark wrinkled his nose, picking up the backpack by the handle with two fingers and depositing it in the kitchen. He strolled into the lounge area, settling himself onto the couch. He kicked off his shoes and threw his sunglasses somewhere on the other end of the couch, groaning in relief at the soft surface under his no doubt sore back.
Pan giggled, settling themself beside their mentor. Peter wasn’t as comfortable with his as Spidey was, which was one of the benefits of being blended together- they could work on their communication, which was a big bonus, but also Peter could work on becoming more comfortable around Mr. Stark and Ms. Potts, something that he desperately wanted.
“What’re we watching today, Underoos?” Mr. Stark asked, turning his head slightly.
Pan shrugged. “Empire Strikes Back?”
Tony smirked. “How’d I know you’d say that?”
“Because you know me, Mr. Stark,” Pan grinned. “We’re connected.”
Mr. Stark snorted. “FRIDAY, play The Empire Strikes Back.”
“Sure thing, Boss.”
Spiderman wasn’t as big of a fan of Star Wars as Peter was, so he let Peter take over, sinking back to chat idly with Alex, who for some reason was still lingering in the headspace. Peter shook off the dizziness that came from the action- that was a relatively new thing that he learned only happened when he came out of blending with someone. Vertigo wasn’t fun, he found out.
Uncaring of what Mr. Stark would think of him or how close they were (or weren’t), Peter pressed his forehead into his mentor’s bicep. Mr. Stark jolted a little, and Peter momentarily wondered if he was overstepping his boundaries, and he was reassured that it was okay when Mr. Stark slid an arm around him and rubbed his arm in comfort.
“You good?” the man questioned, turning the volume down on the logos at the beginning of the movie. Peter nodded into his bicep, exhaling a shaky breath.
“Yeah, sorry,” he mumbled, sitting up. He rubbed his eyes, grogginess setting in. “Spiderman and I were blended for a minute there.”
Mr. Stark hummed. “You guys come up with that name yet, by the way?”
“Pan.”
“Pan?” Mr. Stark snorted out a laugh. “I guess it fits?”
“Mashup of-”
“Your names, I know,” Tony said, turning to smirk down at him. Peter huffed, sticking out his lower lip in a childish pout. Mr. Stark snorted, turning the volume back up. “Pep’s gonna be here in about twenty minutes,” he informed Peter.
“That’s nice,” Peter said dismissively, slapping a finger to Tony’s mouth to shut him up, “now shh! The movie’s starting.”
Tony huffed out a laugh and pushed Peter’s hand away, turning the volume back up. Peter settled happily back into the couch, crossing his arms over his chest. He let himself relax, relishing in the feeling of his weekly stress melting away. He vaguely registered Mr. Stark getting up from the couch at one point to pop a bag of popcorn.
“You good there, kiddo?” Tony asked about twenty minutes in, reaching over to wrap an arm around Peter’s shoulder. Peter flinched at the contact and Mr. Stark retracted his hand, but Peter grabbed his arm.
“You can… do that, Mr. Stark,” he said, offering a hesitant smile to his mentor. Tony smiled in return and pulled him into his side.
“I’m glad you trust me enough to do this,” Mr. Stark said quietly, the sound of the movie in the background almost drowning his voice out.
Peter hummed, resting his head against Tony’s shoulder. “This is nice,” he sighed, letting his eyes slip shut. Mr. Stark squeezed him tight and rubbed his shoulder.
“Isn’t this your favorite part, Pete?” Mr. Stark asked after a few moments of silence between the two.
Pere snapped his eyes open, wondering just how much of the movie he’d missed. Was he really that tired?
”You resist. It is useless to resist. Don’t let yourself be destroyed as Obi-Wan did.”
Peter’s eyes lit up and he practically fell off the couch with how fast he bolted forward. He stared at the TV, a grin lighting up his face. He vibrated with excitement, gripping onto Tony’s arm.
”There is no escape. Don’t make me destroy you. You do not yet realize your importance. You have only begun to discover your power. Join me and I will complete your training-”
“Enjoy this scene much?” Tony joked, poking him in the side.
”I’ll never join you!”
“Shh!” Peter hissed, grinning. Peter’s eyes shone with excitement. This was the very best scene in the movie, his favorite of all time, and he wasn’t about to miss it because Mr. Stark was teasing him (even though he’d already seen it ten times over by now at least, but that was besides the point).
”If only you knew the power of the dark side. Obi-Wan never told you what happened to your father.”
”He told me enough! It was you who killed him.”
Peter inched forward even more.
”No. I am your father.”
Peter’s head suddenly spun, and he registered an intense pressure on the back of his skull. He heard a childlike squeal somewhere in the back of his mind and he pressed a hand to his forehead. He blinked, and knew no more.
.
.
.
Finley shrieked with excitement at the movie, flapping his hands. He slid off the couch and onto the hardwood floor, bouncing up and down.
“Woah, Pete, buddy, you good down there?”
Finley’s head swiveled around to look up at a strange man. His brow furrowed together. Why was he watching Star Wars with a stranger? Mommy always said “stranger danger” and that he should run away if someone tried to approach him.
He backed away, the movie forgotten, and bumped into the coffee table.
“Woah, easy kid,” the man panicked, sliding off the couch to gently kneel on the floor. His hands raised above his head in surrender. “I’m not gonna hurtcha, I promise.”
Finley bit his lip and shook his head, the usually soothing sensation of curls bouncing against his forehead now foreign. He furrowed his brow again. Wait a minute.
He looked down at his hands, blinking in realization.
He was in Petey’s body again.
He was in a strange place with a strange man in a body foreign to him and watching his favorite movie. Why was he here? Where was Mommy or MJ or his siblings? Why weren’t they here with him? Was this like that time at Petey’s school?
He was only allowed to come out at home or when he was playing with MJ at the park, so why was he out right now? Would he get into trouble?
Finley burst into tears.
“Hey, hey kiddo it’s alright,” the man soothed, panic obvious in his eyes, wisely deciding to keep his distance.
Finley wailed, an icky feeling Mommy liked to call “nervousness” creeping up into his throat. The man looked like he wanted to come closer, but he restrained himself, instead letting Finley cry himself out.
“Buddy, it’s okay,” the man hushed, “you’re okay. You’re okay. You’re in Stark Tower, in the penthouse, and it’s movie night. We’re watching Star Wars. My name is Tony Stark. What’s yours?”
Finley gulped, teary eyes flickering up to meet the man’s nose. “Fffffff-Ffff-Finley,” he stuttered out through his sobs, trying his best to calm down. Mommy always said to try and prevent his meltdowns before they happened, and he agreed- they were icky and no fun at all.
“Finley, huh?” the man hesitantly smiled. “We met once, remember? Pete’s told me aaaaall about you, little guy. ”
That got Finley’s attention.
“Petey?” he asked, teary-eyed, blinking innocently up at the man.
“Yeah buddy, Petey,” he smiled softly, “He told you about me, remember? I’m Tony.”
Oh.
That made sense.
Finley’s tears came to a halt. “Petey’s daddy?”
The man- Tony- choked, then burst into a fit of laughter. “Somethin’ like that, kiddie.”
All thoughts of “stranger danger” and fear and icky nervousness vanished from Finley’s mind in an instant. His face lit up in a bright, beaming grin. “Daddy!” he squealed, seemingly having forgotten what had just transpired.
Tony let out an “oof” when Finley smashed into him, but all he cared about was the fact that he finally got to meet Petey’s daddy!!
“Woah, little man,” Tony huffed, arms snaking around Finley to hug him back, “thought you had trust issues?”
Finley cocked his head, fingering the soft material of Tony’s t-shirt.
Upon noticing his confusion, Tony clarified: “I thought you don’t trust easily.”
Finley hesitated, creeping away from the comforting embrace even though his brain screamed at him to go back. He eyed the floor and tapped his fingers against his legs. “Um… Petey likes you,” he struggled to form a proper sentence, “you’re… um, you’re Daddy. Trust you. Trusted real Mommy and Daddy. Left. Now you’re Daddy.”
Finley peeked up at Tony through his lashes, hoping he did a good job. Tony’s expression softened. He reached out to loop his arm around Finley, pulling him into a tight yet welcome embrace. Finley basked in the firm pressure Tony provided, snuggling into his chest.
The two sat there until Finley was so antsy that he felt like he could jump around for a whole year. Tony let him go and watched as he bounded onto the couch. Tony huffed out a laugh and quickly followed suit, reaching for the remote.
“Umpause, Daddy,” he said impatiently, bouncing in place. Tony snorted but quickly complied.
“Whatever you say, munchkin. Want some popcorn?”
Finley wrinkled his nose- he loathed the texture of popcorn in his mouth- and shook his head wildly, this time taking a moment to grin at the feeling of his curls bouncing against his forehead.
Tony unpaused the movie, and the two sat in an excited silence, Finley rocking forward and backward the entire time.
”They’ll be in range of our tractor beams in moments, my lord.”
”Did your men deactivate the hyperdrive on the Millenium Falcon?”
”Yes, my lord.”
Finley paused his rocking for just a moment and peered off to the side, peeking a look at Tony. The man looked invested in the movie, eyes glued to the screen, and Finley took the opportunity to shove his head under Tony’s arm, butting it up until Tony’s arm was fully wrapped around him.
Neither said a word.
Finley decided that he liked Tony as the man carded his fingers through his hair, smoothing out the curls only to mess them up again and start the whole process over. Finley’s eyes drooped shut as the ministrations continued.
He didn’t trust a lot of people, but maybe he could trust Petey’s daddy, because Petey’s daddy was Fin’s daddy too.
He happily sighed and let himself go to sleep.