Chapter Text
Peter’s fingers tapped distractedly against the taut leather of his seat - Officer Wickson’s seat. The police station was cold and quiet. Now and then an officer would shuffle around at their desk or wander down the hall, reappearing with a coffee, but nothing so dramatic to keep his attention from the constant droning of background noise; The coffee machines incessant and irregular beeping, the slow glug of water in the cooler to his right. Peter didn’t like it at all. Officer Wickson had let him wait at his desk whilst he dealt with some filings in the storage room and Peter couldn’t help but imagine how long it’d be until the slightly pallid looking man forget he was even here.
There was an empty mug beside Officer Wickson’s computer and a thin file flat on the desk. Peter B. Parker, was printed in the top right corner. Peter had been reassured there’d be no new mention of an arrest in his file, just an account of him being taken into custody and of a ‘disturbance’. However void of concern Wickson delivered this news, Peter knew this wasn’t going to reassure whoever he’d heard him talking with on the phone. Peter had been trying, through a somewhat bleary mind, to prepare for whoever had been deemed his closest, or more likely, most available, next of kin to walk into the station in the next 10 minutes.
Happy would be difficult. Peter could endure a car ride of silent disappointment but the full account of the evening's events Happy would give Aunt May and Mr Stark would be tougher. It would be impossible to downplay the situation if it was May- Peter was hopeful the night shift may have made her unreachable. Tony, although unlikely as his recovery at the lake house was rarely disturbed, would be the easiest to handle. As long as Peter looked fairly downtrodden and apologetic, Tony might go easy on him.
Peter straightened up in his chair as an echoey groan indicated the opening of the heavy station doors. Any prepared front immediately fell as the unsettling creak of old hinges was followed by a familiar tap of heels. Peter recognised the pattern before he even heard the voice.
Pepper Potts, however, had not been a possibility that even crossed Peters mind.
“Peter!” Pepper hurried towards him and towered over where he still sat, making him feel at least five years younger and just as pathetic as he had then. “Are you alright?”
Pepper, more maternal than he’d left her, lowered herself down and reached a hand up to stroke gently across his cheek.
“Ah, you must be Ms Potts.” Officer Wickson appeared suddenly. “I just need you to sign something and I can leave you to it.”
“Of course,” Pepper stood, holding out a set of car keys to Peter. “Go wait in the car, I need to have a word with the officer.”
. . .
Peter had never known Pepper to drive herself, Happy had always been around. But all he’d found in the station's car park was the familiar black Audi that had always been waiting outside Midtown for him on ‘Lab Day Fridays’. Peter unlocked the car and climbed into the backseat.
The car was as spotless as always, clean, organised and up to code with the many rules of Driver 101 Happy had shared (ranted) with him over the years. Amongst the blank cleanliness of his surroundings, Peter noticed a few new additions. There’d never been apple and oat snack bars or juice boxes on his drives up to the compound, no matter how much his stomach would grumble over the two-hour trip. Or a Disney princess colouring book tucked into the back pocket of the seat in front of him.
Fifteen minutes ticked by on the dashboard before Pepper followed after him and started the car without a word.
“I spoke to Officer Wickson.” She told him as she pulled out onto the road.
“I guessed,” Peter mumbled. Pepper was a mother, sure, but she was Morgan's mother. Never in all the time they’d spent after defeating Thanos or even when they’d met before the blip had Peter or Pepper ever been in a situation like this. She always commanded a room, but she was never in charge of him.
“Since when do you pull this shit, Peter?” She snapped, catching him off guard with the sudden loss of her soft tone. “And how did you even get into a bar anyway?”
Pepper sighed when Peter only stared out the window. It must have been about two am by now. Early morning at least, guessing by empty roads and distant shouts of party groups.
“I’d expect this from Tony ten years ago, but not you Peter, you’re not alike like that...you can ignore me now but as soon as we get in we’re talking about this.” Pepper’s voice was firm. A well practised Mom Voice ™.
“Where are we going?” Peter asked.
“The tower.”
“You can drop me off at my aunts’...thought you’d want to go home.”
“I was staying the night in the city for a meeting.” Pepper explained, not looking back at him. “And I know your Aunt’s working tonight.”
Of course she did.
. . .
“No. Turn around,” Pepper called out as Peter made a beeline for the hallway that led to the bedroom Tony had designated for him all those years ago - months to Peter.
Peter stopped, only hesitating slightly before doing as she said. Tonight was not the night to challenge Pepper Potts.
“Come here.”
“-Look Ms Potts, I’m sorry he called you, I really didn’t think you’d even be on my emergency contact list...I’m just gonna go to bed and you can have your night back-”
“Oh come on Peter!” Pepper huffed, setting her things down on the kitchen counter before turning to face the younger boy. It was only now that Peter noticed how tired she looked. Her outfit was hurried and her hair had been pulled up in a messy ponytail quite unlike Pepper. Likely in an attempt to collect Peter as quickly as possible from the police station that had called her at two am on a Thursday night.
“I’m used to dealing with a four-year-old but I hoped you’d be slightly different, now, come. Here.”
Peter knew it’d be wise to do as she said and slowly approached Pepper, stopping a few feet in front of her and settling his gaze back on her shoes. He heard her sigh again before she was closing the gap between them and lifting his head in both her hands.
She inspected him carefully, lingering a little longer on the red circles around his eyes. Something shifted in her as she let him go and rubbed the dark circles under her own.
“I don’t think I need to explain to you why you shouldn’t be drinking on a school night, Peter.”
“What-I wasn’t doing that Miss Potts, it was just a total misunderstanding and-” Peter babbled on.
“I’m not stupid. I dealt with Tony's drinking for years.” This was a voice Peter suspected Morgan saw a lot less of. Pepper Potts, CEO could be stern when she needed to be, but Pepper Potts, Caregiver, was a whole other league. “I know what that looks like. And if it’s anything else you better tell me right now because I’m only going to get less forgiving the longer you continue to lie to me.”
Maybe Peter had underestimated just how similar Pepper and May were.
“..look, Miss Potts-”
“Pepper, Peter, my name is Pepper.”
“Pepper...I don’t know what you’re thinking right now but I haven’t done any of that, things just went...wrong, and the police showed up.” Peter mumbled, “It’s not...You don’t have to do this. S’not your job.”
“You think because it’s not my job I’m going to let this pass?” Pepper wrapped her arms around her torso as she faced Peter with a look of exasperation.
“Peter, an hour ago a police officer called me to tell me not only had you managed to get into a bar, but you’d gotten into a bar fight!”
“It wasn’t a bar fight!” Peter yelled.
For the last five months, he'd been told a lot of things. Things like how everything was going to be okay, Mr Stark was going to be okay, how Peter just needed to take time to let things adjust. He hated the new parental superiority all the adults in his life had taken up, even Happy had started lecturing more than he listened.
“Then what was it?” Pepper's tone was ice. The lump in Peter’s throat scratched up and down as he fought to feel less like a child in front of the woman so ready to treat him like one.
“I was just there with Ned and Mj, we weren’t drinking-”
“Peter.”
“-We weren’t drinking at first.” Peter’s eyes flickered up to gauge Pepper’s reaction before taking tentative steps towards his next confession. “We just wanted to hang out, and they did really good milkshakes but… I don’t know, okay?”
“I guess we just got to talking, and we just…” Peter lifted his hands to his face for a second, praying silently not to sound so small. “This sucks Pepper. This sucks so bad. We were just gone, and yeah it’s great everyone’s back but it doesn’t change that years passed without us. Everything’s different now and I just…”
“Yeah?”
“There’s nowhere I fit, okay?” A strangled sob worked its way out of Peter as he spoke. “That’s what we talked about, how our lives are just, they’re not ours anymore. And then Mj ordered us something to drink and I didn’t even think I could get drunk cos I’m all spidery but I guess I did and then this guy was being a dick to Mj, wouldn’t leave her alone and stuff...so I pushed him back and...yeah.”
“Oh, Pete..” In one quick movement, Peter was wrapped up in Pepper’s arms with his head resting against her shoulder. He could feel her hands brushing through his curls, the way May used to after his parents died. After all the bad parts of his life really.
“Please..don’t tell Mr Stark.” It was barely audible between the sharp gasps of air and gentle cries. Peter knew Pepper had heard him though by the sigh brushing by his ear and her arms tightening around him.
“Pete...baby, you’ve gotta talk to us, you can’t deal with this all alone.”
“‘S fine- it’s not your job.” Peter persisted.
“It’s not yours either.” Pepper cooed. Cooed. Against all his instincts, Peter pulled his arms up and pushed himself from her, gasping shakily and wiping his sleeve under both eyes - He wasn’t a child, not after everything he’d been through. Not hers at least - he stormed up the stairs, ignoring the crack of wood as he slammed his door shut behind him.
. . .
Peter had seen Tony before the medics swarmed and he was rushed to several emergency surgeries, each more hopeful and simultaneously crushing as the last.
Despite the regular facetimes and visits to Tony’s hospital bed where he could see the man with his own two eyes, this picture of Tony laying against the rumble of the demolished compound grounds, face ashen and one arm completely destroyed, staring back at Peter, clouded over any happier images in the boy’s mind.
After being deemed relatively unharmed, Peter was left to pace the halls surrounding the surgery whilst Wakandas best doctors worked away for hours. Pepper, probably just as eager to distract from everything else, focused her energy on persuading Peter into a chair. He’d refused a hospital bed of his own so she’d accepted this was the best they were going to do for the moment.
So, that’s where he’d been, hunched over himself in one of the typically uncomfortable hospital chairs when, finally, the doors in front of him swung open.
A doctor approached Pepper and began talking her through her husband's current state. Peter caught words like resuscitate, amputate and lucky, but they were far away, the only things clear to Peter were the large plastic tubes that seemed to pour out from Mr Starks unconscious body as they’d wheeled him out the white doors and down the hall where he disappeared again.
Pepper seemed relieved. She held her hands against her face, holding her head up as she nodded along to each glimmer of hope in the doctor’s update. Peter, however, stood in a daze beside her.
A few minutes later Pepper began ushering him down the hall towards the door the Doctor - was his name Egel? - had identified for them. The anxiety he’d felt for the last few hours quickly turned quickly to dread in the pit of his stomach. He didn't know if he could keep himself composed at the sight of Mr Stark like this, he wasn’t sure he even wanted to.
The battlefield has been enough. Peter thought he was dead then, looking down at the fallen man. That feeling didn’t just go away. That intense anguish, the loneliness. However well the doctors had done, Tony definitely still looked rough behind those doors, too much like he had hours before when Peter was sure he was losing the man who’d only just started to open up to him. Peter certainly wasn’t ready to stare into the eyes of a dying Tony Stark so soon.
“He’ll sleep at least for a few days,” Dr Egel explained from inside the room. Peter could no longer see him or Pepper, instead, he glared at the white tile of the floor.
“You can go in and speak to him. He’s stable. It’ll be slow but he’s going to recover just fine.”
“Thank you, Doctor.”
. . .
The quiet pleas for him to let her in or even just answer her had long since stopped. The sun was rising through the windows behind his desk and New York was waking up despite the dam breaking inside Peter.
He found that he couldn’t cry anymore around three am. He’d finally been able to breathe somewhat properly at four. His phone buzzed occasionally although he never moved it from the spot it had landed hours ago when he’d hurled it across the room.
Pepper hadn’t given up easily. He sat alone for twenty minutes before she’d followed him up, probably content with the space she’d given him and expecting a second go at the conversation. Instead, his door was jammed shut and the only noise making it through were Peters heavy breaths - oddly reminiscent of his early asthmatic years, and his cries.
She’d tried reasoning with him at first.
“Peter, sweetheart just let me in okay?” She called through the wood, slightly splintered at the bottom where he’d kicked it shut. “Honey I need to make sure you’re alright, this isn’t safe.”
All she’d gotten in response was a string of gasps and a quiet wail that made her heart wrench. After a while, she moved onto a new approach.
“FRIDAY, open the door.”
“Mr Parker has compromised my lock system. I am afraid I am unable to complete your request.”
“...Peter, open the door!.”
Pepper did leave him alone eventually, not before demanding regular updates from FRIDAY every ten minutes though.
. . .
“Kid, come on I know you’re in there.”
Peter woke up to Happy now behind the door in Peppers place. He knew he had to be in school soon, a glance up to the clock on the wall opposite told him he was already an hour late.
“Did you tell his aunt?” This was whispered, although the gesture was pointless considering Peter’s enhanced hearing.
“No - She’s still at work, I was hoping we could at least get him out before she finished.” Pepper explained. “Happy this is bad, you didn’t see him before, this is...it’s bad.”
“I know, at least we know he’s safe.”
“He’s not though, it’s quiet now but earlier- I’ve dealt with a crying newborn at all hours of the night but this was different. He was hysterical Happy, and he hasn’t even responded to me since he ran off.”
It was quiet for a few seconds. Peter adjusted himself against the chest of draws. There was a soft dent in his side from where the handle had dug into him for hours, purple tinges blooming around the edges.
“Do you know what set him off?”
“No.” Pepper sighed. “He wasn’t himself all night, this whole situation isn’t him but it was still strange, he told me how he’s been feeling and I thought that was good. He opened up and I was just holding him then all of sudden he pushed me away and was slamming doors in my face.”
“Maybe we should call Tony.”
“I’m just about there myself, too.”
“No, no don’t, just…”
His throat burned. His words tore against the dry, surprising him when Pepper and Happy even heard him.
“Peter...sweetie we’re right here okay?” Pepper started. “Can you just let us in, we don’t have to talk right away, I just need to see you’re alright.”
“Don’t call Tony.”
“We’re not gonna kid, just open the door up yeah?”
Peter’s bones popped as he uncurled himself and stood for the first time in eight hours. He walked slowly - still in his old trainers, and rested a hand against the doorknob.
“Peter?” Pepper sounded just like May had when he’d come home from the ferry incident: All torn up and only keeping it together for him.
He opened the door slowly, pulling it towards him and moving slightly, straight into the eyeline of his two nervous keepers.
“-oh baby..” Pepper pulled him forwards, her grip firm around him as he stood silently in her arms. “...Peter.”
“‘M sorry.”
Happy laughed, shaking his head and staring down at the kid. Not even the slightest bit surprise as his constant apologies persisted through it all.
. . .
A plate of toast and scrambled eggs sat undisturbed before Peter. The overhead lights glared aggressively against the porcelain as his breakfast slowly went cold.
He’d overheard Pepper on the phone after he’d been led to the kitchen. She’d been cancelling a meeting that, by the sounds of the woman on the other end, wasn’t one you could typically dip out of an hour before.
Happy had shortly after Pepper reemerged, excusing himself with vague details of ‘driving Morgan somewhere, can’t be late but I’ll see you later Kid.’
Pepper had perfected dealing with difficult people and situations over the years at SI. She sat opposite Peter at the kitchen island now, in jeans and a knit sweater, and gently urged him to an explanation of the last twelve hours.
“I’m not going to make you talk any more about the bar, okay?” She started as Peter willed all his attention to eggs congealing in front of him. “I’m not angry with you for that Peter, I would, however, appreciate it if you could tell me about what upset you...and if you feel that way a lot.”
Peter lifted his fork, pierced a cluster of eggs and crushed them under the four prongs. As long as he didn’t look up at Pepper he could avoid embarrassing himself any more than he already had. If he smoothed things over now maybe Mr Stark wouldn’t even have to know about any of this.
“I’m sorry about before,” He mumbled, focusing on the way his eggs broke apart under his controlled force. “I guess there was just a lot going on, and I was tired, I didn’t deal with it well.”
“We don’t always have perfect responses for everything in our lives, Peter,” Pepper spoke in the tone she had the night before. The gentle coo, like he was a child, like it was easy for her to pretend he was her child. “It’s alright to be upset about things, especially after everything you’ve been through, I imagine it must be really overwhelming sometimes.”
He shook his head. The culmination of his hangover and post cry headache coming together to form a pounding behind his eyes. As much as he’d like to imagine the ease of everything just slipping out of him for Pepper to fix like she always did, he knew it couldn’t be like that anymore. He didn’t want Mr Stark involved and there was absolutely no way that would happen if Peter told the woman in front of him how he really felt. Peter wasn’t going to be the person jealous of a four-year-old, no, definitely not.
“Not really, I was just tired.” He dismisses.
“Peter, you can trust me, you know that right?” She sighs, not sure herself if the trust he had for his mentor extended to her too. “I know it’s been hard with, Tony recovering still, but you can visit - come stay with us even, whenever, we’re always here for you Pete.”
“...I know.”
“Do you?”
That caught him off guard and Peter lifted his head suddenly, leaving his teary eyes on full display. Sure, he believed she thought she meant it, but he knew what would really happen. There’d been numerous invites to the lake house since Tony had been relocated there from Wakanda, it felt like every facetime between the pair ended with the older man imploring Peter to spend a weekend upstate with the family. Peter always had homework, plans with Ned or a promised dinner with May he could excuse himself with but it was becoming obvious that the boy was avoiding the situation.
He hated to picture it. Everything would be fine at first, like the weekends he’d spend at the compound probably. By the end of the first day though, Tony would be tired, Pepper busy with Morgan and Peter would be very obviously out of place. He was sure they thought it’d be a perfect reunion for them all, but in reality, it would only turn a blinding light on how badly Peter didn’t fit anywhere anymore.
“...yes, of course, I do.” Pepper held his gaze, her expression soft and disbelieving. “I’m sorry Miss Potts but I have to get to school-”
“I called you in sick.” She spoke calmly. She knew how close Peter was teetering on the edge of a full confession, perhaps even a repeat of the night before.
“Look- no offence Miss Potts but you’re not my mum.” He said it too quickly to take it back or even process it himself before it came cascading out. “I just mean, you’re really nice Miss Potts, but we didn’t even know each other the whole blip thing and just because you have a kid now doesn’t mean, I’m not...I know you and Mr Stark are really busy with your daughter now so...just, I..”
Burying his head in his hands he let his words taper off into intelligible mumbles, hoping Pepper would ignore his whole outburst and let him escape back through the tower doors.
“Is that what you meant when you were talking with your friends last night?” Pepper's voice had lost a fraction of its control, she sounded...sad. “That you don’t fit anymore?”
The elevator was too far from the kitchen island for Peter to make a subtle escape and even if it was closer, he can’t imagine Pepper was going to let him leave like he hadn’t had an emotional breakdown, locked himself in a room he apparently hadn’t been in for five years and accused her of mothering him. So he answered.
“Yeah, I guess that’s right.”
“Peter, we love you no matter what.” She sounded almost exasperated that she even had to remind him. “I know we didn’t get to spend a lot of time together before...Thanos, but Tony told me enough about you over those five years and watching him mourn you told me everything I ever needed to know about how incredible you are.”
She smiled and reached a hand out to cradle his, pushing the plate of forgotten breakfast aside.
“I’m sorry you had to come back to everything so different, I can’t imagine how much that must have hurt. Tony loves you, so do I, and you know Morgan hasn’t stopped asking us when her big brother’s finally going to visit her.”
Big brother.
“I’m not.”
“Oh Peter, of course - you can take as long as you need to process all this, but she’d love to meet you and, in her mind you are. From all the stories Tony told her, you have been for years.”
“But I’m not,” Peter whispered, pulling his hand out from under hers. “You and Mr Stark finally got this perfect life, the kid and the house and everything, I can’t just...you don’t deserve me ruining it for you. He’s not even my dad.”
The last word came out as a strangled sob followed by a sharp intake and a wave of cries muffled behind Peter's hands.
“Oh sweetie,” Pepper’s arms were around him again, his nose pressed against her shoulder where, after the last 12 hours, the scent of her fabric softener was becoming familiar. “It’s okay, s’okay..”
They fell into an awkward embrace with him still propped up on his kitchen stool. Neither of them seemed to care. Pepper held tightly onto the boy because right now he wasn’t the man he pretended to be, he was just a boy she was determined to protect. With her free hand rubbing up and down his back and producing all the soothing noises she brought into action for Morgan's nightmares, Peter began to relax against her.
“H-he’s not my dad I-” He cried, “He’s not even my dad, I heard his heart stop and he’s not even my dad!”
Pepper couldn’t help her tears as they trickled into Peter curls. She let out a quiet cry of her own, holding him closer to her as his arms clung tighter to her sweater. To anyone who might walk into the penthouse they’d look a mess, they were a mess. A mother and son crying in each other’s arms.
. . .
Pepper was quick to push through the doors to Tony's room as soon as the doctor left them. Peter could hear her speaking softly to him from the hallway where he’d stayed frozen ever since Dr Egel had led them there.
There’d been a multitude of warnings that kept him standing, motionless as the white tile beneath him burned his eyes. The glimpse of tubes cascading from Tony like some sort of water park had only been the first. According to Dr Egel, Mr Stark was going to look quite different, but they shouldn’t be afraid. Like that would instantly remove any fear completely.
“Peter?” A call came from down the hall. “Pete what’s happening...is he...can we see him?”
He recognised Rhodey and Happy's shoes as they hurried up beside him. He didn’t need to look up to feel their anxious stares.
“He’s okay,” Peter mumbled. “Pepper’s in there..you can, they said it’s fine…”
Rhodey and Happy were gone. Through the doors, a moment before Peter had even stopped speaking.
He could hear them all now. Crying, relieved. They’re chatter and joy only paled into background noise in comparison to the loud beeping of all the machines Tony was tied up to emitted though. He wasn’t sure if they were like that for everyone else or if his enhanced hearing was zeroing in on any reassurance that Tony was alive, anything to make his brain finally catch up.
But every time one beat of his heart would taper off before rising again in the next, he was only reminded of how he’d heard it stop completely hours before on the battlefield.
It was loud and quiet at the same time.
Thanos was the main deal but all his soldiers were overwhelming. Their weapons crashed against others and all Peter could make out were shouts of threats or defeat before Thanos stood before them all and snapped his finger. And then the most deafening sound of all before the loudest as Tony gleamed and burned, too far away for Peter to do anything about it.
Half the battlefield turned to dust as Peter watched Thanos face fall until it couldn't be determined between the rumble and dirt.
Nobody spoke as they watched the dust fall around them.
Then Tony died.
Peter was crouching over him beside Pepper and Rhodey. Doctor Strange was conjuring up a portal to Wakanda which out of soon poured a group of medics, all ushering Peter and the others out the way before tending to Mr Stark.
Peter wanted to tell them to stop, just leave him. Let him rest. He heard it happen all of a sudden as they were attaching tubes and an oxygen mask to the unconscious man.
Peter had heard it himself. Through cries and commands, the sudden absence of a heartbeat.
He heard it for weeks after. He heard it there in the hallway of the hospital, over the beeping of the machine that denied his very fear of Tony’s death and proved the man was very much alive. He heard it still as he turned on his heel and ran.