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"He shall spurn fate, scorn death, and bear
His hopes 'bove wisdom, grace, and fear.
And you all know, security
Is mortals' chiefest enemy."
- William Shakespeare “Macbeth” Act 3, Scene 5
Peter technically wasn’t even supposed to be on this mission.
“You have school.” Tony had said over the phone just a few hours earlier, the sound of the Avengers mission alarm cutting through his words. “Stay home, buddy. It’ll be fine, just stay home.”
“But Mr. Stark --”
“I love you, kiddo. When I get back, you and May can come over for dinner, okay? To make up for it. You gotta sit this one out, though, Spidey, stay home and take care of Queens.”
Before Peter could respond, to say that he loves Tony too or to continue to argue, the call gets cut short. Shoving his phone back into his pocket, the 15-year-old makes quick work of sprinting out of his school, ducking behind lockers to avoid the teachers.
Finally, he makes it to his normal alley, throwing on the Spider-Man suit and swinging at full-speed toward Stark Tower, Tony words echoing in his ears.
Stay home.
That doesn’t stop him now, however, his hand aching slightly as he clings to the dirty wall of the rundown warehouse. He’d barely managed to sneak into the Quinjet, hiding behind a stack of boxes, and praying that he doesn’t get caught.
His Parker Luck must have disappeared for a few minutes, thankfully, because the teen was able to both stay hidden and follow his team into the warehouse, clambering up the wall as silently as possible. The rest of the Avengers are now way down below, Steve’s form at the very center, with Tony to his right.
Peter watches as his father-figure shifts on his feet, crossing his arms as much as the Iron Man armour will allow.
“Karen,” Peter whispers, shifting further along the wall, stopping just behind a rusted metal pipe and peaking out. “Can you do that, uh, weird voice thing again? Make it so I can hear them?”
“ Certainly, Peter. ” His A.I say before the LED of his mask lights up, the whole warehouse turning a sharp shade of blue before focusing once again on his team.
“. . .we’re sure everyone knows the plan?” Steve’s saying, straightening up from leaning down toward the dirty floor, what looks to be a sort of map drawn in squiggly lines against the dust. "Right?"
Tony, along with the rest of the Avengers, give a nod. Peter, cursing silently because no, he doesn’t know the plan , is forced to watch from afar as Steve swipes his hand across the make-shift map and it’s gone before the spiderling can even ask Karen to zoom in.
“Alright, everyone, get in position.” Steve continues, nodding to both his left and right. “With any luck, the bad guys will still be hiding out in the upper floors and won’t even know we’ve arrived.”
“Friday’s giving the all-clear.” Tony says, his Iron Man mask snapping into place around his head. His narrowed blue stare seems to study every inch of the warehouse and Peter holds his breath, pushing himself even closer to the wall. “We’d better get a move on, though, they look to be making another patrol round, coming this way.”
As one, each pair of Avengers goes off in an opposite direction, with Natasha and Clint taking the right side, Hulk and Thor on the other. The only ones left are Steve and Tony, the Captain taking a second to rest a hand against the suit’s metal shoulder.
“You sure you got this, Stark?” Rogers asks and Peter frowns, slowly creeping his way down the wall, shimming behind a gigantic metal pipe.
“Duh,” Tony scroffs, making a shooing motion with his free hand. “Skedaddle on outta here, Capsicle, I’ll be fine.”
Steve, face set in a frown, makes his way down the short hallway to his left, stepping through a barely open doorway before slinking into the darkness beyond. Tony, stepping to follow him, is suddenly stopped by a mechanical whirl, high-pitched and grating.
Peter flinches, thankfully landing softly on the ground behind a few broken boxes, crouching slightly and covering his ears with a grimace.
“Friday, what the hell--?” Tony starts, seeming to not be able to move. The suit continues to rumble and Peter, finally gaining his footing, inches closer toward his father-figure, wanting to help in any way that he can. “Do a scan--”
Tony’s cut off, however, by the sound of a door banging open from upstairs. As many as 30 people rushed out, guns pointed straight at the still struggling billionaire, their eyes wide behind their black masks.
They shout something in a foreign language, rushing toward Tony just as the man’s suit seems to snap out of place, his helmet unlatching and drawing back into the neck of his Iron Man suit again. He’s left out in the open, dark eyes wide, and he struggles to raise his hands up above his head, palms out.
“Whoah, okay, let’s take it easy now, guys.” He says, seeming to attempt to fire a blast in the criminals directions but all his repulsor does is glow a muted blue, sparking out with a tiny whirl. “Shit, uh, can we just have a nice chat, actually?”
The masked-men don’t seem to care about talking, however, because they close in on the genius in a few paces, shoving their guns against Tony’s temples. Peter can see, through the gaps, how pale his mentor is, how much his hands shake when he attempts to fire one more blast against the closest man.
And it makes Peter angry.
Gritting his teeth, the boy flings himself out of his hiding spot, swinging up above them and narrows his eyes. His mask seems to do the same, the white getting smaller, almost a pinpoint, and that pinpoint is quickly shifted into a red when Peter sees a man hit Tony across the face with his gun.
“ Instant Kill Mode activated .” Karen’s voice whispers and Peter blinks, forcing the whites of his eyes back, forcing the anger tugging at his chest to let up, for just a second. He can't go that far, despite the rage still shaking his very core. “ Deactivating. ”
“Wow, uh --”
Tony’s still talking, taking a second to spit out a wad of blood onto the floor, before turning back toward the criminals around him. He has a cut above his already swelling right eye, his slit lip dripping more blood down his chin. As Peter watches, the scene now bathed in a hot red of rage, his father-figure grins, his own smile crimson in color, lifting up his now perfectly glowing palm. The Iron Man mask snaps suddenly back into place, the eyes seeming to narrow even more.
“Ow, you sir, you pack quite a punch there. It’s a good thing that I do too--”
“Hey!” Peter shouts, finally swinging down from the ceiling. With a muffle grunt, the spiderling slams into a criminal on the outer edge of the ring, coming to a crouched stop right next to a stunned Tony. “Get the hell away from him!”
“What the--?” Tony starts, before he’s cut off by gunshots. With a curse, the billionaire starts to blast around them, both him and Peter now back-to-back. He yells over his shoulder. “Kid, what the fuck are you doing here?”
“I thought something happened to your suit?” Peter shouts back instead of answering, barely managing to dodge a bullet as it shoots past his head, hitting the far wall with a sharp ping .
“There’s nothing wrong with my suit, just --” Tony turns around, managing to shoot down the criminal who shot at Peter, pausing for just a second to look over the boy just as Peter fires his own web, sticking two criminals together before attaching them to a wall, right next to the others. “What are you doing here?”
“Wanted to help.” Peter says, flipping over the gun of a man as he swings it toward the spiderling’s head, apparently out of bullets. He clambers up the wall, slipping down on the other side of a metal pipe, firing his webs over top.“Queens was fine, so--”
“I wasn’t worried about Queens, you bambino idiota !” Tony’s voice, despite the angry words, is clogged in fear and worry and Peter feels a hot flash of guit shoot down his spine. He swallows. “I was worried about you .”
“You don’t have to worry about me, Tony.” Peter says, before yelping in pain as a stray bullet grazes his arm, zipping past him and leaving a small trail of fire-hot burning in its wake. “I’m fine!”
“Not very convincing there, bubba.”
Tony shoots down what seems to be the last man, both him and Peter coming to a stop near the middle of the warehouse, the bodies around them. Peter tries not to stare at the ones still smoldering near his feet, instead turning toward Tony. The billionaire takes a second to pause, seeming to survey the area around them, before sighing.
Without hesitation, Tony unclasps the Iron Man helmet, his eyes alight in worry and he’s reaching out for Peter before the boy can speak.
“Let me see your arm, kiddo.”
“I told you I’m fine.” Peter says, allowing his mentor to squint down at the graze wound, his brows furrowed. “You never told me what happened to your suit?”
Tony rolls his eyes, seemingly satisfied that Peter’s arm isn’t going to fall off and reaches out for the boy’s shoulder instead, wrapping an arm around him. “That was part of a new genius plan Cap came up with. Me, as bait, with the rest of the team showing up to save my sorry ass after the bad guys got lured out.”
“Oh,” Peter blinks, reaching up with his free hand to pull his own mask off, leaning into the gentle brush of Tony’s palm against his cheek. “That’s kind of a stupid plan.”
“Yeah, well, it was supposed to go a little better than this --”
Tony gets cut off, however, by the rest of the Avengers, in various stages of disarray, finally bursting out of the doors to their left, Steve in the front. Holding up his shield, the Captain’s teeth are bared in snarl, a deep cut across his cheek dripping blood down his chin. He pauses, however, eyes wide, when he catches sight of Peter.
“Thanks for finally showing up, Rogers.” Tony scoffs, a hand on his hip. “Took you all long enough.”
“Yeah, sorry about that, Tony.” Natasha says, blowing a strand of hair away from her face. One of her eyes is already bruising, darkening to a deep purple-blue. “We had to deal with a lot more company upstairs than we planned for, took a little longer to take care of. You guys okay?”
Peter nods, a blush heating his cheeks when Tony gently ruffles his curls. “If it wasn’t for Peter here, I’d probably just be a handsome splat on the wall, huh?”
“What is he doing here?” Steve buts in, finally breaking free of the circle of heroes and making his way in-front of Peter, crossing his arms. He looks the spiderling over, his blue eyes narrowed. “I thought you told him to stay home, Tony?”
“Of course I did, Rogers.” Tony snaps, pulling Peter even closer to his side. “He just didn’t listen, like always.”
“Hmm.” Steve studies Peter for a few more seconds, before his mouth quirks up in a small smile. “Well, good work then, son. Thanks for helping out.”
“Thank you, uh, Mr. Captain America, uh, sir.” Peter stutters, face heating in a blush and he ducks his head, blushing even harder when Tony presses a proud kiss against his temple.
“Call me Steve, kid. It’s only fair for a future official member of our team.” Steve grins again, patting Peter on the shoulder before he straightens, face becoming serious. “We were able to find the stash of alien weapons, by the way, Tony. They hadn’t managed to figure out how to use them, thankfully.”
“Which proves just how dumb they all were,” Bruce says, having finally transferred down from Hulk. His clothes are tattered and he leans against Thor, the blonde supporting him with an arm around his waist, pressing a kiss against his boyfriend's cheek. “I swear, all you need to do it make sure the electrons are alined--”
“-- so the atoms can form an even stronger bond.” Peter finishes, before snapping his jaw shut, his eyes wide. “Oh, s-sorry, Dr. Banner, my bad.”
Bruce, however, just smiles. “Oh, it’s quite alright, Peter. Thank you, yes, as I was saying, it’s--”
“--Time to get back home, it’s been a long, surprising day.” Steve cuts in, all members of the team migrating as one toward the entrance to the warehouse, Peter still tucked against Tony’s side.
No one speaks as they make their way toward where the Quinjet is parked, hacking through the overgrown trees and bushes around the property. Peter, squinting in the darkness of the now-fallen night, wraps his own hand around Tony’s shirt sleeve, the billionaire having recalled the suit once outside.
“You doing okay, buddy?” Tony whispers, leaning in close. “Your arm alright?”
Peter nods, swallowing. “Y-Yeah, it’s fine, that’s not-not what’s bothering me, I don’t think.”
Tony nudges Peter’s good arm with his own. “What’s up then?”
“When I saw those men, uh attack you?” Peter starts, swallowing. Above them, the silver glow of the moon drifts through the trees, illuminating the ground in bursts of green-white. “It made me so mad, I just couldn’t think. Everything got all red and, and I accidentally activated Instant Kill Mode. For just a second.”
“Oh, bug.” Tony sighs, gently leading Peter into the open Quinjet ramp once they get closer, Bruce pausing for a second to check on Peter’s arm before both father-and-son making their way to the far seats. “It’s okay, really.”
“You’re not mad?” Peter asks, glancing up at his mentor through the artificial lights around them, watching as Tony’s eyes soften.
“No, bambi, of course I’m not mad.” He says, then holds up a finger. “About the Instant Kill thingy, not about you skipping school and sneaking on a dangerous mission and completely disobeying what I said. That I’m mad about.”
“I just wanted to help--”
“--and I want you to be safe, Peter.” Tony grabs both of Peter’s shoulders, ducking his chin until he can meet the boy’s eyes. “Any mission we have that you go on, bubba, it’s planned . I plan for you to be there, for ways to keep you safe, what to teach you and guide you on. It’s a learning experience, not just you being thrown in the heat of things.”
“Oh,” Peter swallows, blinking away sudden stinging tears and Tony gathers him close, curling his arms around the teen. Peter nuzzles underneath the billionaire’s chin. “I’m sorry, Tony. I didn’t mean to mess everything up.”
“You didn’t mess anything up, baby, and honestly? You did amazing, I’m so proud of you.” Tony whispers, brushing Peter’s curls back with a hand, his other cupping the spiderling’s chin. “Not really proud of the way you ended up here, but you held your own and you saved me - even when I didn’t need saving - and that takes a lot of guts, kid.”
“Really?” Peter looks up at his dad, eyes wide. “Wow, t-thank you.”
“Don’t thank me, pumpkin, it’s true.” Tony kisses Peter’s temple again, speaking the words against the boy’s hairline. “You’ve got a beautiful heart and a genius brain, Peter, don’t forget that.”
Peter nods instead of verbally answerings, bringing his legs up into the seat beside him and leans fully against Tony, cuddling up against his father-figure’s chest. Tony, for his part, just gathers him even closer, rocking them slowly with the motion of the jet. His voice, when he speaks, is a deep rumble in his chest, comforting against Peter’s ear.
“You remember what I said earlier, about having you and May over for dinner?”
“Uh-huh,” Peter smiles. “That sounds awesome, by the way, we should make it a weekly thing.”
“Yeah, we should.” Tony pauses for a second, adjusting Peter in his arms. “Anyways, that’s still happening, by the way.”
“That’ll be awesome--” Peter starts, his grin growing, feeling Tony brush back another stray curl. “I can’t wait!”
“And she’s going to hear all about this little stunt of yours.”
Peter huffs. “I knew there was a catch.”
“Yep, well,” Tony laughs, swiping his thumb softly across Peter’s red-tinged cheek. “If we’re going to do this co-parenting thingy, me and May gotta stay on the same wavelength, buddy.”
“Ugh,” Peter says, grimacing. His heart blooms in his chest at the words, however, and he can’t stop himself from wrapping his own arms around his mentor’s torso, nuzzling closer. “I’m gonna be so grounded, huh?”
“Oh yeah, sweet spider-baby of mine,” Tony practically coos. “Most definitely. 6-feet under, in the shit hole, however you want to say it.”
Peter sighs, tightening his grip around his father-figure and feeling Tony do the same to him. Despite the impending Aunt May-Freak Out that’s in the future, the boy can’t feel anything besides the love in his heart for the man he would have risked Insta-Kill for.
And he would do it all again, if that means that his dad comes home, safe and sound.