Work Text:
“Don’t ruin this.” Slither, Heavenly
“Peter Benjamin Parker!”
Oh, no, Peter thought to himself. Nope, he was not in the correct mindset to have a heart-to-heart with his aunt, not even a little bit. The spider-kid was sliding back out of the window to his bedroom faster than he’d slithered in to start with.
“Don’t you dare- What have I told you about using windows instead of doors, you absolute heathen! I know I raised you better than this!” May called out, her frustration evident in her voice. Peter didn’t even need to see her face to know she had her ‘we-need-to-have-a-serious-talk’ expression on.
“Yah-yeet,” he muttered, quietly, as he threw both himself and the remnants of his sanity out of his apartment building.
---
So, like, realistically, Peter knew that he couldn’t just run from his problems forever; I mean, he could try, but logistically, it would be a nightmare, especially with his enhanced metabolism. Just the thought of the number of baby-sitting hours he would have to work in order to feed himself made his head spin.
However, running and hiding until he physically couldn’t any more sounded like a pretty good plan at that moment, and, well, Peter’s never really been known for his self-control. Plus, the suit could run independently from a power source for, like, a week, and Mr. Stark really should have thought that through if he wanted Pete to check in any more often than that.
As Tony- Mr. Stark, right, can’t get too familiar, don’t get too close- flitted through his mind, Peter increased his web-slinging pace. He wasn’t even really sure where he was going, but every fiber of his being was screaming at him that he needed to be anywhere other than the space he was occupying.
Unfortunately, even he couldn’t outrun that level of despair.
Eventually, he tired himself out, ending up somewhere in the financial district. He found a nice, secluded billboard to hide behind for a few moments while he caught his breath, and checked the time, then winced. He asked Karen to send a message to May, to let her know that he was alive and fine, just needed some space.
Ugh, he was in for the lecture of a lifetime when he got back. He couldn’t believe that he’d just walked out on her. That really, truly wasn’t like him, at all. Peter Parker was many things, and, yeah, irresponsible may be one of them, but he wasn’t usually outright rude, at least not to Aunt May. He also didn’t usually just up and run away from the things that scared him.
Peter let out a snort, more fuelled by ironic despair than actual humor. No, Peter Parker wasn’t a coward, but then again, he wasn’t really Peter Parker, now, was he?
---
“Stark, where is my kid?”
Tony sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “He’s hiding out on a sky-scraper between here and Harlem. Karen has reported an increase in breathing and heart rate, but other than that, his vitals are steady, and he doesn’t have any injuries.”
“So, you can spy on him, but you can’t go get him and talk to him?” May’s exasperation was very apparent, even over the phone. “What did you even tell him that has him this freaked out?”
“I didn’t tell him anything,” which was technically true.
“Okay, let me rephrase that: why is my teenager camping out on a rooftop right now?”
Tony winced at that one. “Well, I would assume it has to do with the fact that he accidentally ran a DNA test on himself in the lab today.”
“So, what, has he found out that he’s more spider than human or something? I can see how that would freak him out, but-”
“No, no, this- it’s not a Spider-Man thing. It’s a Peter Parker thing.” And if Tony winced at using that last name- Parker- well, it’s a good thing that May couldn't see his face right then. “Look, he ran from the lab straight to your apartment. I figured that meant he wanted to talk to you about it.”
“Well he didn’t,” May deadpanned, clearly unimpressed. “And now he’s halfway across the city, and not returning my calls, and you won’t even tell me what set him off-”
“It’s not something I can tell you,” he cut her off. She had every right to be mad, and he knew that, but being snippy at him wouldn’t fix anything at that moment. “Look, the kid needs some space. He’s a teenager. Give it another half an hour. If he’s not home by then, I will personally go out and fetch him for you.”
“Fine,” she huffed, after a beat of silence. “I’m sorry for being so short with you,” she started after another brief pause. “I just, I’m used to being the only one to look after him. He’s all I have,” and these words are whispered, fragile, but more piercing than shrapnel to the heart, and Tony should know.
“I know,” he said, and to hell with it; if she could apologize, then he could, too. “And I know I didn’t, I screwed up, before, with homecoming, and I’m not as used to it as you are, but I'm really- I’m trying to look out for him, too,” and he means it.
“I know,” she echoed, and he let himself hope, just in that moment, that yeah, maybe she did.
---
Half an hour passed without word from Peter, so Tony threw on his suit and headed out to find his kid.
“Just don’t ruin this,” were the only words of encouragement he could find for himself as he stepped out into the night air.
---
“I can’t ruin this, too,” were words repeated over and over in Peter’s head, spilled from his lips, as he realized that he had yet another father figure to lose, another parent to mourn, and he really wasn’t sure if he was capable of doing it all over again.
---
“Hey, Peter,” Tony called out to him as he landed. Peter was all too aware of the lack of nicknames and jokes. He wasn’t sure if he felt resentful or relieved that Mr. Stark felt awkward enough not to joke about it.
“Hey, Mr. Stark,” he answered from his curled up position beneath the billboard. He hadn’t moved since he’d stopped to catch his breath. He figured if he couldn’t actually physically run away from the feelings, he could at least not look like an idiot swinging hysterically through the city.
Tony took a deep breath, and Peter resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “Look, I get it if you don’t want to talk to me right now, but your aunt is worried sick, and you need to get some sleep. It is a school night.”
And Peter thought he knew that the man was arrogant, thought he understood how grating the flaunting of wealth and fame could be, but this was a whole new level, even for Tony fucking Stark.
"So, what, you’ve decided now that I have super powers, I’m good enough for you to parent? Dad ?” Peter’s eyes flashed dangerously. “The most important part of my life was a lie, and none of you told me!”
Tony blinked at him, clearly caught off guard. “Okay, I guess we’re having this conversation now. Pete, I didn’t know-”
“I don’t care!” Peter shouted, and, yeah, if he had gained any control over himself after sobbing his lungs out on a rooftop for two hours, it was definitely gone again. His small frame trembled with grief and rage.
Tony hardened his gaze, pulling out every bit of iron that made up the Stark men, and made a decision. Howard Stark may have used that iron to tear down his son, but Tony Stark could re-purpose it to hold his son up. “Yes, you do care.” Peter let out another wretched sob, and Tony wished for all of the world that he could just snap his fingers and make everything right again.
Instead, he pulled the kid, his kid, close, and stroked his back in what he hoped was a comforting manner. “I know it doesn’t really make it any better,” he murmured, once Peter’s breathing evened out a bit more. “But, Roo, even before that DNA test, you were my kid in every way that counted.”
And Peter wasn’t sure if that sentence shattered him all over again or sewed every part of him back together in a way that had all of the sharp edges stabbing painfully into soft spots that he’d thought he’d managed to stow away behind impenetrable walls.
Just like the results of that paternity test, he supposed, it didn’t really matter.