Chapter Text
Peter knew he looked like crap. He could feel the ache in his body as he dragged himself into the Tower, using the entrance reserved for Level 10 access only. The last thing he needed was the staff to find him like this, the interns in R&D had become strangely protective over him ever since he’d officially become one of them. Maybe it was his age, or the fact that he would help them fix their projects, in return for the cookies that were passed around.
It wasn’t one of his days to come to the Tower. In fact, he didn’t even know if Mr Stark was in New York, but Peter couldn’t go back to his Aunt’s apartment looking like this. He’d already managed to avoid Happy after school finished, making it through the streets as quickly as possible.
The elevator was cool as he pressed his cheek to it, murmuring instructions for FRIDAY to take him up to the Penthouse. Mr Stark always kept a first aid kit under the sink, for when Peter earned bumps and bruises from the suit, so he presumed he could use it for this.
‘FRIDAY, is Mr Stark in the Tower?’ He hoarsely asked, wondering if his throat had been damaged. It felt bruised, swollen and painful as he tried to swallow, ignoring the buzzing in his pocket that would probably be the group chat.
News had to have spread by now, about what Flash had done.
‘I’m afraid not, Peter. Would you like me to contact him?’
‘No, it’s okay.’ He waved off her concern, having already told her to override Baby Protocols as soon as he stepped foot in the building. Technically, this had happened outside of the suit, so she wasn’t forced to report it to her creator.
‘Miss Potts is on floor 25, in a meeting, if you would prefer her company?’
Peter liked Miss Potts. She hadn't questioned where he’d come from, simply welcomed her into the Tower with open arms. Slowly, they’d begun to bond over their combined fondness of Mr Stark. When Pepper couldn’t get him to leave the Lab, it was Peter who would go and drag him out. When Tony needed to be at meetings, Peter would convince him to go.
When Peter needed a guardian to sign something for him, it was Pepper that would pay attention to the forms he shyly handed across.
‘I’m good.’
The door to the penthouse opened, thankfully into darkness, and Peter stumbled in the direction of the kitchen. His shirt was sticky, Peter suspected mostly with his own blood, and his head was beginning to spin. Each step was a drag, painfully aching as he tried to navigate the space with nothing more than his dwindling Spider-senses.
Clearly, he was almost unconscious, because he didn’t notice the other people present until the lights switched on suddenly.
Burning light filled the room, Peter squawking as he rose his hands to cover his sensitive eyes, grimacing when voices demanded answers. A gun being loaded, pointed at him.
‘Who the hell are you?’
‘Jesus, is that a kid?’
‘Nat, put the gun down.’
‘Why’s there a kid in the Tower?’
Peter tried to open his eyes, to put his hands out in surrender, considering he really didn’t want to take on whoever had broken in while he was seeing double. However, the first person he saw happened to be none other than Captain America.
The man that left Tony for dead.
A deep-rooted fear spiked, one that had latched on after Tony came back from Siberia. He’d been quiet for weeks, short-tempered and terrified, though he tried to hide it. Peter had followed in his shadow, never quite admitting that he didn’t want to lose another father-figure, because that would mean telling Mr Stark that he was more than just Peter’s hero.
So, when confronted with the man that gave Peter nightmares, the Spider turned around and made it to the trashcan in time to throw up. It tasted foul, of bile and blood, stomach heaving as he heard worried remarks.
‘Jesus, kid, hang on. Easy.’ The Falcon, Sam Wilson, had moved closer to him.
What were the Rogues doing in the Tower? Peter couldn’t remember much about the recent discussion about them, just that they were being placed under house arrest until the pardons were worked out. Tony had negotiated a redesigned version of the Sokovia Accords, something that had meant the others agreed to sign.
Peter knew Tony had done that for him. He wasn’t an idiot, Ross was trying to find out who he was, and now Peter had been stupid enough to walk into Captain fucking America.
‘How the hell did he get in here?’ Hawkeye asked, from his position leaning against the kitchen island.
Peter stopped throwing his guts up, wincing at the bright lights as he looked to the Falcon, who offered out a glass of water.
‘Kid, did someone hurt you? Are you hiding from someone?’ Right, he was covered in blood. Peter drained the water, the ache in his throat receding enough for him to look down at himself.
‘T’anks, Mr Wilson Falcon Sir.’ Peter bit out, then dodged around him and headed towards the sink.
The gun was raised again, by the Black Widow, even if Captain America told her to lower it.
‘You put that fucking gun down right now, or I’m kicking you out into the streets. All of you.’
The voice was filled with anger, burning bright and terrifying aggressive, the Ironman suit retreating to reveal Peter’s mentor. Tony’s gauntlet was still wrapped around his arm, pointing straight at the Black Widow, fear etched onto his features.
‘Stark…’ The Captain began, but Peter was quicker.
‘Mister Stark!’
Tony’s attention turned to him, relief, before it morphed into horror.
‘Underoos, what the hell happened to you?!’ Peter meant to move closer, instead stumbled as he reached out, but he didn’t need to worry.
Tony caught him, swearing as Peter narrowly avoided hitting the counter.
‘FRIDAY, lights down to 40%. Have Cho up here, now!’ Barked orders to the A.I. that ran the building’s cameras and security, Peter content to slump down into Tony’s arms as they hit the floor.
‘Kiddo, look at me, that’s it. Focus those bambi eyes on me.’ Peter did as told, let Tony’s fingers skirt across his cheeks to his ears, then to the back of his head, like he was searching for any lumps.
‘Kid, who did this?’
The question wasn’t who did this. It was did they do this, and Peter shook his head sharply.
‘M’good, just a little tired.’ He told his mentor, who chuckled.
‘You can sleep later, bambino. Stay with me for a little longer.’
Peter obeyed. He stayed awake, even when Dr Cho came rushing in with her med-bag, telling Tony to hold his head while she reached for his shirt.
‘Pete, buddy, did you hit your head at all?’ Helen might have asked him the question first, but Peter was more inclined to listen to Tony, who was stroking through his hair really softly.
‘Maybe? Think it was a staircase.’ Tony hissed, Helen continuing her mission of investigating his ribs.
‘Tony,’ She began, looking to the people in the room that were hovering,
‘Speak. If they blab, I’ll send them to the Raft personally.’ He growled out the last bit, like a bear, which Peter found amusing. He giggled, earning him a smile from his mentor.
‘His enhanced healing is dealing with the inflammation to his abdomen, but I suggest getting him down to med-bay so we can find some strong enough painkillers.’
Peter booped his mentor on the nose.
‘Tony, I can carry him down…’
Tony’s head snapped to Captain America, before returning to Peter when he started thrashing.
‘No, no don’t leave me w’him Mis’r Stark, not him.’ Tony’s expression shifted to something dark, before he looked back to the group.
‘Pete, we need to get you to med-bay. Would you let Barnes carry you?’
James Barnes was a person that Peter had heard a lot about. He’d been allowed to work with Princess Shuri on the blueprints for the vibranium arm, adding inputs to the mechanisms that worked within it. He’d always wanted to meet the White Wolf, mostly out of curiosity, but preferably when he wasn’t on the verge of consciousness.
‘Yeah, Mr Barnes White Wolf s’good.’ Peter told him, Tony rolling his eyes but stepping back enough for the man to walk forwards.
Peter wasn’t sure he liked being carried, but he was intrigued by the arm. He poked it, listening to the huff from the man carrying him.
‘Kid, leave the Manchurian Candidate alone.’
‘The arm’s s’cool Mist’r Stark!’
Peter unfortunately didn’t make it all the way to the med-bay, passing out as soon as the elevator began its descent.
**
Tony didn’t acknowledge the people in the room. They were waiting, studying, staring at him as he continued to hold the kid’s hand, stroking through his hair as Helen moved around.
‘I’ve given him twice the dosage we usually administer to Mr Barnes and Captain Rogers.’ Dr Cho told him, and Tony chuckled. The kid would be as high as a kite, when he woke up.
‘FRIDAY, any luck hacking the kid’s phone?’
‘It appears that Mr Leeds and Miss Jones were concerned that something happened with a teenager by the name of Eugene “Flash” Thompson.’
‘Is it illegal to kill the kid?’
‘Probably, Boss. Although I’d never tell.’
That made him smile, as did Peter stirring at that moment.
The kid’s eyes opened, pupils the size of dinnerplates.
‘Mist’r Stark!’ He never got tired of hearing the adoration in Peter’s voice, would never take it for granted again.
‘Cucciolo.’ He greeted, unable to stop himself from cupping Peter’s cheek gently. The kid turned his head into it, sighing happily.
‘M’sorry I bled over your elevator.’
‘The elevator can survive. I, however, am close to a heart attack. You’re giving me grey hairs, kiddo.’ Peter snorted, then seemed to realise he had a cannula in his arm. This was apparently the most fascinating thing that had ever happened, as he reached to prod at it.
‘You’re already old, Mister Stark.’
‘Rude. Don’t think I won’t ground you.’ Peter rolled his eyes, before his attention slid past Tony to the group behind him.
‘Oh.’
‘It’s okay, Underoos. They’re here on house arrest, after…’
‘Ross agreed to the new accords.’ Tony blinked, then schooled his expression.
‘Spiderbaby’s shouldn’t be eavesdropping.’
‘You were talking ‘bout me, Mister Stark.’ That was true, Tony had been trying to keep Ross’s attention far away from the masked-webslinger. Luckily, it had worked.
‘I won’t let him near you, Roo.’ He promised, not just talking about Ross, either. Peter’s eyes flicked to the Captain, before the hand in his squeezed.
‘Stay with me?’ He murmured, fighting sleep, and Tony chuckled.
‘Let me call Aunt Hottie first, and deal with the spectators, then I’ll be right back to your bedside. Pepper’s on her way up as well.’ That had Peter’s attention, a loopy grin spreading over his face.
‘Pep’s my favourite.’
‘No stealing my fiancée.’ Tony rose from the bedside, stooping to press a kiss to the boy’s forehead. Peter giggled, swiping lazily in his direction, before letting his eyes shut.
‘M’joking, you know you’re my favourite.’
‘Yeah, kiddo, you too.’
Tony swallowed down the emotions, turning away from the Spider-Baby to the group of Rogues in his Tower.
From almost-parent to Avenger, in a split second.