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Chapter Text

Honestly, when Peter woke up to a pounding headache and a throbbing leg, strapped to a chair in a dingy, damp prison, he wasn't all that surprised.

Sure, he took a moment to huff out a confused breath after clearing his vision of spots. He took a glance around at his surroundings, only being able to conclude that he was in a dark, bland stone room with a wall of iron bars across from him. The only light he was granted came from a small window high up to his left, blocked off by more bars.

After Peter took all of this in, his small bit of surprise and confusion faded and he was left frustrated. This was not the teen's first time being kidnapped and you would think that after three instances of the same thing, he would be able to avoid the process altogether.

The first time was the most frightening one. He had been out as Spider-man, patrolling the streets of Queens until his curfew arrived, when he was ambushed and a syringe was stabbed into his neck. Those criminals seemed to be at least a bit educated when it came to his abilities, as the drug had kept him down for the count for a half hour at least. He awoke tied up in the back of a van in vibranium cuffs. After that, it didn't take long for Mr. Stark to show up to save him, stopping the van and incapacatated his kidnappers.

The other time was when Peter had been outside of the suit walking home from school. He was lured into an alley and held at gunpoint so that he would comply. When they arrived at the abandoned warehouse, the men announced that their plan was to set up a trade: Tony Stark's intern for one million dollars. Of course, Tony was quick to track down Peter and put a stop to their dumb plan.

So, finding himself once again having been kidnapped, Peter wasn't too worried. Usually when this happened, the bad guys were hardly prepared and left a billion holes in their plans. He didn't remember how he got into this situation, but he knew the most important thing was whether this had happened while he was Spider-man or not.

His mask was still on his head and he sighed with relief at the knowledge that they didn't know his identity. Most likely. His head was still aching, though he felt like it most likely wasn't a concussion. Then came the most important part.

He had been shot in the leg.

Peter's left thigh throbbed in time with his heartbeat, and he grit his teeth as he shifted in his seat to get a good look at it. Yep, it really was bleeding quite a bit.

A significant upside to this whole situation, was the fact that Peter was strapped to the chair in rope. Simple, regular rope. It would be no problem at all for the superhero to rip through his restraints and walk out of here. Unfortunately, his leg would hinder him when it came time to escape.

He was pulled out of his thoughts when he heard two sets of footsteps approaching his prison cell. Looking up, he watched as a tall man in a cliche ski-mask and a dangerous-looking woman opened up the cell.

Peter quietly cleared his throat as it was rough from disuse. "Hey, nice weather we're having, huh?" Really, Peter? That's all you got?

The lady stalked closer with the man in tow. She gave a smug grin and pulled out a long knife, before moving to stand behind Peter.

"So, do you know why you're here?" The man asked, choosing to ignore Peter's earlier comment.

Peter rolled his eyes. "That's a bit cliche, dude. You really couldn't think of anything else?"

A flash of anger crossed the man's expression and Peter felt the woman grip his shoulder from behind. "Be quiet and listen," she hissed in his ears and he recoiled as much as he could. Her breath stank.

"I was making a very important deal a week ago," the man began, and Peter watched in trepidation as the stranger's fists clenched. "And a pesky bug got in the way." He stepped closer to Peter. "I needed that money. Because of you, I was evicted! I have nothing now!"

Peter's spider sense buzzed in his ears but he was unable to dodge as he was strapped down. A fist collided with his face and the chair would have toppled over if it wasn't for the woman behind him. He couldn't help the gasp of pain as his head snapped to the side.

"And now we're gonna make you suffer," the lady said, the knife she was holding coming into view as it glinted in the moonlight.

Before Peter could retaliate with a quip of some sort, the weapon tore down into the flesh of his arm, ripping his suit. It stung sharply and the teen squeezed his eyes shut to not make a sound.

Peter didn't know exactly how to get out of this one. He didn't want to wait for Mr. Stark to show up. He knew he could get out himself; he could definitely take on these two low-level baddies.

But his leg was another matter. It really was an intense wound: blood was still pouring out of it and it aches like a bitch. It was gonna be hard to fight like this.

He found that he had no choice, though, as the man landed another punch, this time to his gut, while his partner slashed him near the other cut. Peter needed to get out of here now.

So he did.

In one swift movement, Peter tore off the ropes and as they fell to the floor, he kicked the wooden chair backwards with his good leg. The woman grunted in pain as the force of the chair knocked her against the back wall.

Surprise exploded onto the tall man's face, but he didn't hesitate to dash towards Peter. The teen dodged out of the way of his poorly timed punches, and delivered his own to the man's face, watching as he stumbled back a few steps.

Peter was quick to web up his kidnapper, smiling in satisfaction when the man squirmed against the wall futilely. A spark of his spider sense had the teen stepping to the side and missing the desperate lunge of the woman.

She advanced on him without rest, her jerky movements hard to predict. He attempted to web her as well, but she was quick and precise. Peter made to dodge another one of her attacks but she switched directions last second.

He felt his breath leave him as he glanced down at the knife now embedded in his shoulder. A sly smile crept onto the lady's face, before she too was webbed up to the wall, next to her partner.

This wasn't the teen's first stab wound. He would be fine. Everything was fine. Totally a-okay.

Peter tried to calm his breaths as he watched the blood ooze around the weapon in his arm. He looked away when a wave of nausea washed over him, and then, without any preparation, he gripped the handle of the knife and pulled it out. "Crap!"

Through gritted teeth, the boy limped over to the small window in the corner. He knew it would be easier to just walk out the exit, but his senses were telling him that there were more people that way. And he was in no condition to fight anyone else.

"Karen, call the police," Peter murmured, just now remembering her presence. He wondered if he should have relied on his AI more for the fight, but ultimately, he knew there wasn't much she could have done.

"Okay, Peter. They should arrive in 20 minutes."

Peter sighed. That would have to do. He began to climb the window and pry the bars off the wall, his shoulder and thigh aching in pain. Nonetheless, it was easy for him to shimmey out of the tight hole and begin his slow trek away from his kidnappers.

He landed on a rooftop about a block away, his body hurting all over and his breath coming in shallow gasps.

"Karen? How far am I from… uh…"

He trailed off, uncertain if he should go to his apartment or to the Tower. Lately the Tower felt like home just as much as his apartment with May did. It was nice to know he had more than just one safe place.

"Since your Aunt is currently at work, I recommend that you make your way to the Tower for treatment," Karen's calm voice informed Peter. "You have lost quite a bit of blood, and I advise you to seek medical treatment immediately."

"Y-yeah, that's… that's a good idea," Peter muttered.

He knew she was right. Even if Peter was in the right state to patch himself up, his apartment's first-aid kit wasn't equipped for this. He just wished he didn't have to face Tony right now. His mentor had a tendency to freak out when Peter was wounded, and when Tony freaked out, Peter freaked out.

Sighing in defeat (and also, maybe pain), Peter continued to web his way towards the Tower. His shoulder throbbed angrily from the stab wound, but he tried to pull through, even if his swings were slower and shorter.

"Peter, should I call Mr. Stark for you?"

The teen jolted at the voice, not realizing that he had begun to zone out. He blinked the spots out of his vision. "Uh, no. I think I can make it, Karen."

There was a pause. "Are you sure? You seem to be in great pain."

Peter hissed as he landed roughly on his injured leg, swallowing down a curse. "N-no. I'm fine."

He wasn't sure whether or not the AI responded, as the next bit of his journey became a blur. He swung from building to building, hardly thinking and instead just feeling. Mind-numbing pain encompassed him whole and his ears rang loudly.

On his next swing, Peter must have somehow forgotten to shoot another web, because the next thing he knew he was laying down on something soft and absolutely smelly. What the hell?

"-all Mr. Stark?" He vaguely heard Karen say.

"Wha-... What? Karen, where 'm I?"

The second of silence this time almost felt judgemental. "You are currently laying in a dumpster, Peter. You failed to catch yourself while swinging from a web."

Looking around, that seemed accurate. Peter could see old takeout containers around him, as well as bags upon bags of trash. He wrinkled his nose at the sharp stench.

"Wha', uh… how far…?" His mouth felt dry and his head pounded too harshly to even think straight.

Luckily Karen understood what he failed to articulate. "You are only three blocks away from Stark Tower. But I recommend that you stay put and allow help to come to you."

"No, I-" Peter shook his head, and then winced as his whole body was enveloped in a fresh wave of agony. "Ugh. 'Kay, ca' you… call M'st'r St'rk?"

In a voice that sounded much more monotone than her usual caring tone, Karen replied, "Calling 'Tin Can Dad'."

Peter snorted at the reminder of his contact name for Tony, a small smile curling on his lips even at a time like this.

It wasn't long before the familiar voice of his father figure answered from inside his suit. "Pete? Are you okay; it's an hour past your curfew."

Even though Peter knew he should be worried about being hounded for being out late, he instead found himself giggling. Peter had just escaped from his kidnappers fast enough that Karen didn't even need to alert Tony. He had done that all on his own! And Mr. Stark was thinking about curfews.

"... Kiddo? Are you okay?" His mentor asked once again. There was a hint of fear in his tone now.

"'m not… not really 'kay," Peter mumbled, wondering why it was getting harder to keep his eyes open and to move his tongue.

There was the sound of shuffling on the other end and then Tony's voice was back, laced with panic, "I'm on my way right now, okay? Just stay on the line."

Peter tried his best to listen to his mentor's words, but they grew jumbled inside his head.

"Mmh…" The trash around him was beginning to feel particularly cozy and soft. Peter wouldn't mind staying here a bit longer. It didn't even smell that bad. "'m gonna take a nap, 'kay?"

He didn't wait to hear Tony's response.

○○○

Swirling darkness crept around his mind, even as he slowly awoke again. Peter had no way of knowing how long he had been out. It could have been a minute or it could have been hours. Familiar noises of the New York streets lightly filtered through his ears as though he was underwater.

He became aware of a warm feeling on his face, his mask most likely discarded. Peter, in his half-asleep state, shifted even closer to the warmth, but groaned out when the movement caused his head to pound.

Suddenly, Peter heard a distant voice calling out. He tried his best to focus on the deep noise. "-ete? …ou ther…?"

Peter hummed in confusion, ever so slowly pushing his eyelids open. Luckily, it was dark around him, so his enhanced senses weren't too overwhelmed by the visual input.

"There you are," the voice murmured in a fond tone. Peter drifted his eyes over towards where the sound was coming from, and oh! Of course, it was Mr. Stark. He should have known. "I missed those baby browns."

Trying to form words in his sleep-muddled state, Peter slurred out, "Hi… w-wh're are we…?"

Tony snorted. "Well, currently, you're lounging in a dumpster, bud." Peter could spot the worry alight in Tony's gaze, even as his mentor tried to keep his words fairly lighthearted. "But I'm gonna get you patched up, okay?"

Peter hummed in content, leaning into the calloused palm against his cheek. He blinked drowsily up at his mentor and smiled. "'kay."

And then there were gentle hands lifting him up and disturbing the wounds that Peter had forgotten about. He whimpered in shock, sudden unwanted tears slipping down his cheeks.

"Shit," Tony muttered under his breath as Peter clung to his armor, despite the pain he was causing. "I'm sorry. You're okay, honey."

After adjusting his grip on the whining bundle of spider-kid, opting to hold him bridal style, Tony took off for the Tower. At least, Peter assumed they were heading there. This trip was common, so much so that Peter felt like he could already smell the disinfectant of the Medbay.

The teen clung tight to his father figure, burying his head against the cold metal neck of the Iron Man suit. "Hurts… ev'ryth'ng h'rts…"

"I know, I understand," Tony was quick to hush him softly, his voice warm and soothing despite the metallic tone of the suit. "You'll feel better in no time, Pete. The whole Medbay's staffed and ready."

Peter sniffed, hating how pathetic he felt as his body ached in pain, but at the same time he allowed himself to be babied and feel content in Tony's arms.

"... Stay wi' me?"

Tony's hold on him tightened slightly. "Of course I'll stay. Just rest, kiddo."

And so Peter did rest, allowing his eyes to flutter closed again. He knew he would be just fine.

Chapter Text

Peter awoke to his alarm loudly blaring like it did every morning and he flailed his arm around to turn it off. A groan escaped his lips as he sat up, the smell of burnt pancakes immediately attacking his nostrils. 

He knew May was trying to reward him for all of his studying the past few weeks, but he still found himself unenthusiastic about the prospect of pretending to like his aunt's cooking again. 

It was finally the last day of midterms week, and Peter felt his last remains of energy slowly leaving him. He slept a measly three hours last night, and every night prior this week had been similar. 

But he knew he had to finish off his week strong, so Peter sighed loudly and got prepared for the day, changing and freshening up in the bathroom. Throwing his backpack onto his shoulder, Peter dashed through the kitchen past his aunt, pretending to be late.

May was wafting the smoke from her latest ruined breakfast attempt out the window when she spotted her nephew. "Sorry, Pete. I'm not sure how edible this is…" She trailed off, biting her lip. 

Peter, feeling a rush of sympathy, called back, "May, it's fine! I've gotta go anyway." 

He made to leave, but was stopped in his tracks by May's firm call of, "Peter." 

Wincing, he turned back around and jogged up to her. "Sorry." Peter planted a quick kiss on his aunt's cheek. "Have a good day, May!" 

May chuckled and pulled him in for a quick hug. "Be good for Tony, okay? And don't worry about your tests; I know you'll do fine!" 

Peter grinned at the reminder that he would be staying at the Tower with Mr. Stark for the weekend. At least that was something to look forward to at the end of this exhausting day. 

"I will. Bye, love you!"

"Love you, too, Pete."

○○○

Because the school day was all about test taking, there wasn't a lunch period and the classes were much longer. That meant Peter hardly got any chances to speak to Ned or MJ, and it left him feeling even more worn down and sluggish. 

Today he had his Spanish, Calculus, and American History tests. The latter was the only subject he was concerned about, but even then, Peter still put hours upon hours into studying for all of his tests. The knowledge was then thoroughly jammed into Peter's brain and he found himself answering the test questions robotically. 

He was glad he thought to pack multiple protein bars in his backpack, otherwise, hunger and a lack of sleep would both have him knocked out before noon. Peter was getting better at taking care of himself, but he wouldn't have gotten this far if it weren't for Mr. Stark, May, and of course, Ned. 

By the time the last bell rang, signalling Peter's freedom, he felt his eyelids drooping and his movements significantly slowing. The teen was now determined to take a well-deserved nap as soon as he arrived home. 

After promising to hang out with Ned sometime next week to celebrate their midterms being over, Peter made his way through the crowds of high schoolers to the line of cars waiting to pick kids up. It wasn't difficult to spot Happy's car, a sleek black sedan amongst cozy minivans. 

"Hey, Happy!" Peter chirped in a tone he hoped didn't betray his exhaustion, as he slid into the back of the car. He didn't want to needlessly worry the man. 

Happy grunted in his typical grumpy fashion, and Peter couldn't help but smile slightly. The man liked to pretend he was annoyed by Peter, but the teen knew better. Someday he will finally have a conversation with him that lasts longer than three minutes. 

During the drive home, Peter willed his eyes to not close as he focused on the different sights of the streets of New York. He could rest when he got to the Tower, but he didn't want Happy to think he was sick or anything so he held off until then. 

As usual, the car was filled with silence, but this time the absence of noise was soothing and the boy fought to not succumb to sleep. He jolted in place when once again his cheek accidentally tilted to the side and tapped the cold window. Who knew staying conscious could be so difficult?

Luckily, the drive was over before he knew it, and Peter snapped to attention when Happy declared, "We're here, kid." 

"Oh," Peter mumbled. He snatched his backpack up and fumbled to open the door. "Thanks, Happy!" 

He greeted Friday in the elevator as usual, telling her about his day. Apparently, Tony was at a meeting with the other Avengers right now, but Peter could wait in the lab for him. The boy declined, deciding this would be a good time to take his nap, so he headed for the penthouse floor.

It was a relief to finally be able to change into his coziest clothes. He chose a soft, worn hoodie of Mr. Stark's that somehow still smelled like motor oil and fancy cologne. He also threw on a pair of sweats and fuzzy socks. 

Peter sighed in relief and brought the sleeves of the hoodie up to his face, breathing in and letting himself relax. He felt like he could fall asleep standing up. 

For some reason, Peter didn't want to sleep near the ground. He wanted to be high up. Maybe it was his spider instincts or maybe it was the fact that he didn't want to be disturbed. Some of the Avengers liked to prank him while he was sleeping and they could easily reach him if he was on his bed or a couch. 

Knowing his thought process didn't make that much sense, and honestly not caring, Peter shuffled over to the living room and climbed upwards with ease. The teen curled up into a warm, cozy ball in the middle of the ceiling and smiled contentedly. Finally, he could rest.

○○○

It's not that the meeting had been boring, it's just that… well, no. The meeting was boring. It began and ended with Steve debriefing the team on a mission that they had recently gone on, summarizing their most important findings. In Tony's opinion, the whole meeting was pointless. He had been there; he knows what happened. 

But other than the fact that it had been boring, another reason that Tony was subtly hurrying to get back to his penthouse, was because Peter was waiting for him. 

And honestly, Tony just wanted to see his kid. It had been a long week since they last saw each other, and yes, that wasn't much, but it certainly felt like it. With the Avemger's current mission and Peter's midterms, they had both been busy.  

"So, pizza for dinner?" Clint asked from behind him, and Tony realized that the whole team was following him into the elevator. 

"I'm down," Nat responded.

Tony decided to not question the group, as it wasn't too odd for them to invite themselves to his penthouse floor. He figured that that's what they were doing as they made no move to tell Friday to take them anywhere else. 

"Oh, movie night?" Sam grinned over at Steve and watched as the man's eyes lit up. 

"Sure. There's still a lot I need to catch up on." 

"I get to choose this time," Clint added, ignoring Nat's playful elbow to the ribs. 

"Sure, invite yourselves in," Tony muttered in false annoyance as the elevator opened and the team stalked inside. 

"Ask your kid if he wants to join us," Nat called, smirking back at him from the kitchen. 

Before, if someone called Peter 'his kid', Tony would have denied it at all costs. Now, he had accepted that the teen really was his responsibility (and maybe even his son), and instead, when someone voiced it aloud, he was now filled with warmth and adoration for the boy. 

"Yeah, why not," Tony replied, fighting a smile. 

He made his way through the living room, down the hallway, and to Peter's room. It used to be just a guest room, but as the kid stayed over after late-night lab sessions more and more, Tony had it redesigned specifically for him. 

Whenever Tony thought about the fact that the teen had his very own room in the Tower, there was a part of his heart that swelled with love. 

He knocked on the door. "Pete?" No reply. Tony waited a moment more before pushing the door open and taking in the boy's room that, at the moment, had no boy in it. 

"Peter?" He called, walking back down the hallway. 

The other members were settling into the various couches and chairs, queuing up a quick game of some sort before their movie night began. Tony scanned the area, and concluded that Peter was probably not on this floor, or he would have responded. Super hearing and all that. 

Oh, duh. "Fri, Peter's in the lab, waiting for me, right?" 

"No, Boss."

"Huh?" 

The team began to glance up, noticing that Tony was growing nervous about something. Steve, the responsible one, decided to quickly solve the problem. "Friday, where's Peter?"

"Peter is currently on the ceiling, Captain Rogers." 

Wait, what? Tony blinked a few times, but quickly the shock faded into amusement. Of course Peter would be the sort to willingly choose to sleep on the ceiling of all places when he has a perfectly good queen sized bed. 

The rest of the team seemed to be more surprised, though Tony supposed they had less experience with Peter's unpredictable antics. They only just officially met Peter (not Spider-man) a few months ago, while Tony has known him for over a year now.

"He's- what, right above us?" Sam asked, looking upwards like everyone else. It wasn't too hard to find the curled up boy, even with the high ceilings. 

"Apparently," Natasha responded, a fond smile on her lips.

Tony couldn't help the chuckle that escaped him as he moved to stand beneath the boy. "Fri, you know what to do." And his Iron Man boots quickly formed on his feet, allowing him to fly up easily to his kid. 

Peter was absolutely knocked out, his mouth open and his breaths deep and slow. The kid's curls were mussed and staticky from his sweater that engulfed his small form, reminding Tony just how young the boy was. He must have been exhausted from all of his tests this week, and Tony felt a wave of sympathy, remembering just how stressed out Peter had been.

He took a moment to smile at the adorable sight before gently rubbing his knuckles along the side of the boy's face. Peter hummed in his sleep, leaning into the touch and Tony's heart clenched with love. He was so glad he had this precious child in his life. 

Ever so carefully, Tony began to gather the boy up and attempt to pull him from the ceiling. He thought there would be more of a struggle, but at feeling his mentor's presence, Peter immediately seized his stickiness and latched onto him instead. 

As Tony descended, keeping his precious cargo in a safe hold in his arms, he watched as the team smirked at him from the living room. Rolling his eyes, Tony managed to free one of his hands just enough so that he could send the finger their way. 

"C'mon, kiddo," Tony whispered to Peter as the boy shifted in his hold. "How about some early dinner?" 

Sleep-dazed brown doe eyes blinked up at Tony and after Peter recognized him, the boy closed his eyes yet again and leaned closer with a sigh. 

"Peter, you need to eat."

"Uh huh," Peter mumbled.

Tony decided to settle for that response, disengaging his boots and carrying the bundle over to the couches where the others sat. He sat down, allowing the kid to stay close, now sitting comfortably on his lap. All it took was a glance upwards towards his companions for Steve to chuckle and nod. 

"We can order food now I guess," Steve said quietly, keeping his voice down for the tyke. "Fri? The usual, please." 

"Right away, Captain." 

Tony turned his attention back to the kid on top of him. Peter looked to have fallen asleep again, and the man decided to let him be, knowing that he had most likely worked himself too hard these past couple weeks. 

He felt himself absolutely melt when Peter began to purr softly in his sleep, the rumbling reverberating through Tony's own chest. After pressing a quick kiss to the boy's temple, Tony settled back into the cushions and allowed himself to enjoy this blissful moment with his kid.

Maybe he'll take a quick nap as well.

Chapter Text

It was nights like this that Peter wished he wasn't staying at the Tower, but was instead at his apartment. 

Don't get him wrong, he adored spending time with Mr. Stark and the Avengers. It was so much fun to build things in the lab with his mentor for hours on end, bouncing ideas back and forth and goofing around. He loved to train with the team, practice his moves, or to just laze around and play games or watch movies. 

But, right now, after waking up in the middle of the night from a vivid, terrifying nightmare, Peter would rather be at his apartment. You see, Friday had a tendency to nag when it came to Peter being in distress. And that was something the boy hated. 

He didn't want her to tell Tony every time he was scared or cut his finger. His mentor had enough to worry about. Peter was glad Tony cared for him, but that didn't mean he needed to be woken up at 2 a.m. because of a silly nightmare. 

So Peter, sitting in his bed, sweating through his pajamas and breathing laboriously, knew that Friday's next words were coming. 

"Peter, would you like for me to get Boss?" 

He shook his head swiftly, before wondering if the AI could see him in the dark. "N-no. I'm fine, Friday." 

And then, after a moment of silence, Peter tacked on, "Please." 

It almost seemed as though the AI was resigned, as she responded, speaking slowly, "Alright, Peter. But if you become more distressed, I will have to alert him." 

Peter wondered briefly how Friday even measured distress levels, but he decided not to dwell on it. He should just be happy she didn't snitch on him. "Thanks, Fri."

The boy let himself take a few minutes to breathe in and out. His heart still felt like it was going to burst out of his chest, but at least it didn't seem to be getting worse. He took in his surroundings, trying to remind himself where he was and that he was safe. Maybe that would help. Peter was at Stark Tower because he had gotten too caught up in his lab time with Tony and had to stay the night. He was sitting in the Star Wars bedspread that his mentor had gotten for him. He wasn't in the warehouse with Toomes, being crushed and left alone to die. He was at home. Safe.

Just when Peter felt like he may be making progress in calming himself down, a loud crack of thunder boomed from outside. He squeaked, jumping in shock and alarm. 

And suddenly his mind was somewhere else, a different, darker place. Peter was watching his uncle get shot, the sound of the gunshot cracking through the air the same way that the thunder had. The noises were eerily similar, and the boy reeled in fright. 

He stood on shaky legs, his breath coming in quick, hard gasps. The blood rushed to his head and he stumbled to exit his room, almost face planting the floor. 

Peter jolted as another crack of thunder sounded from outside the Tower, the building itself feeling as though it was shaking around him. Would it collapse? Would it break apart on top of him just like the warehouse did?

"F-Friday?" Peter gasped out, hurrying down the hallway to the elevator. "C-can you take me to Mr. Stark?" 

Call it instinct or super senses, but Peter just knew that Tony was not sleeping in his room. The teen was too preoccupied with his fear to care why he knew this. 

The calming tone of Friday quickly responded, "Of course, Peter. I will tell him you are on your way."

"N-no, that's fine," Peter murmured, feeling as though he was spinning. There was a part of him that felt guilty for going to bother Mr. Stark after begging Friday to not alert him earlier, but the larger part of him was too frightened, filled to the brim with panic to care. 

The elevator was quick to arrive at the lab, and Peter was surprised to find that there was only quiet, barely-there music playing. Usually Tony liked it fairly loud unless he was working with Peter. 

His father figure was turned away from him, standing up and messing with some holographic diagrams. Peter instantly felt his heart rate slow and his shoulders slightly lose their tension, but still, it wasn't enough. 

Peter padded over towards his mentor and without hesitation, he wrapped his arms tightly around him and pressed his cheek against Tony's back. 

Mr. Stark jumped in surprise. "Peter?" 

The boy considered asking how Tony knew it was him, but decided against it. Of course he knew. 

When he stayed silent, Tony tried to turn to face him and Peter stayed put, burrowing even closer. Tears left his eyes in embarrassment and he whined low in his throat. 

"Hey. Bud?" Tony pressed. "What happened?"

More silence as the boy shook in distress, fighting to stay quiet as he cried. "Pete, please let me look at you." 

Shame overcame him and Peter loosened his grip, reluctantly allowing Tony to turn around. The boy curled his arms back around his mentor, feeling Tony do the same. 

Pressing his wet face against Mr. Stark's chest, Peter sobbed. He let it all out, knowing he was safe in his father figure's arms. They were both alive and well.

"Shh," Tony hushed, leaning down to place a kiss on chocolate curls. "You're okay. I've gotcha." 

"I- I… I'm s-sorry," Peter hiccupped. 

"No, don't be." A large, comforting  hand rubbed circles against his back. "You didn't do anything wrong… Was it a nightmare?" 

Peter nodded jerkily. The tears just kept coming, and he struggled to catch his breath and speak. "Mhmm. I-... t-there was- Toomes… t-the wa-warehouse-," he choked out. 

"It's alright. Just try to breathe, Bambino." Tony took exaggerated breaths in and out like he did whenever he helped Peter when the boy was anxious. 

And Peter tried to copy his breathing, he really did, but then a bolt of thunder crackled through the sky once again. He flinched violently against Tony, squeaking embarrassingly. And then the tears came once again, this time from self-consciousness and also fear. 

"T-the-... I-I'm-" 

"Hey, there's nothing to be embarrassed about." Tony then called out quietly, "Fri, can you soundproof the lab?" 

The AI responded silently by cancelling out all noise from the outside world. The sound of raindrops and wind that had been battering the Tower ended abruptly. Peter sighed, feeling himself relax bonelessly against Tony's chest. 

"T-thanks," he whispered.

"Of course, kiddo." Tony ran a gentle hand through his disheveled hair. "You wanna explain why you got worked up? It might help." 

Peter thought about it. Usually he would share with Tony after bad nightmares or anxiety attacks. It has become increasingly easy for the boy to trust in his mentor to not judge him. But, honestly, right now he was exhausted. This had been one of the most intense panic attacks he has ever had, and all Peter wanted to do was sleep for a day straight. 

So he shook his head and nuzzled closer, breathing in the familiar scent of his father figure.

"You sure?" Tony murmured, voice soft and soothing.

"Yeah, 'm sure." 

"Okay." And then there was a moment of unsure silence as Tony obviously didn't know what exactly to do next.

Peter huffed in amusement. "You can get back to your work." 

"I don't know, kid, I-" 

Peter looked up at him, pouting tiredly. "Seriously, I don' mind. But… I wanna stay w' you." 

Chuckling softly, high eyes crinkling up, Mr. Stark ruffled Peter's curls. "Of course. Let's rest on the couch, okay? I can do my work there." 

The boy nodded in agreement. And that's how they both ended up sprawled across the rickety lab couch, Peter laying completely on top of Tony, who was messing with his diagrams silently. 

Peter hummed in content as his mentor scratched at his scalp, his hand warm against his head. The lab was dark and quiet and he was so impossibly cozy; there was no way he wouldn't fall asleep here. 

Tony seemed to be aware of the boy's sleepy state as he grinned fondly down at him and pecked him lightly on the forehead. "You comfy, honey?" 

"Mhmm."

"Alright, well I guess I'm sleeping here tonight, huh?" 

"Mhmm." 

The vibrations of Tony's chuckle warmed up Peter from the inside out and he decided that he was, in fact, glad he was spending the night at the Tower.

Chapter Text

Peter couldn't stand still. He was thrumming with excitement, rocking on his feet and wringing his hands together. The boy was finally going on his first actual mission with the Avengers. The Frickin' Avengers!!! 

Of course, it took a lot of convincing to get Mr. Stark to agree. His mentor was vehemently against sending the teenager into any sort of danger after realizing his mistake in Germany. Peter thought it was unfair that Mr. Stark took the blame for that, considering he never forced the boy to go. It seems like they will always agree to disagree when it comes to that.

But the point is, after training with the Avengers for months and proving just how competent he is, Steve agreed that Spider-man could be a helpful asset. Tony, after much arguing, finally allowed Peter to join them on this mission, on the condition that he stayed on the sidelines and focused on evac. 

And Peter didn't mind one bit. He enjoyed rescuing civilians - that was his thing. He thought it was a vital part, afterall, didn't they do everything for the people? So Peter looked forward to staying back and evacuating anyone who needed him.

So here they were, the team which consisted of Peter, Tony, Steve, Natasha, Bucky, Sam, Rhodey, Bruce, and Clint all gathered on a small jet, waiting to hop out and get to work. Steve was relaying their plan again, and Peter may or may not have zoned out from excitement and missed it. But it's fine! Steve was only repeating himself, and Peter had a good memory. 

He squeaked in surprise when he felt a hand land on his shoulder. The boy turned to see Tony raising an eyebrow at him. "You ready, kiddo?" 

"Yep!" Peter nodded, pulling his mask over his head. 

"Remember, you and Rhodey will be focusing on evac around the perimeter the whole time. You need any help, you tell us, okay?" 

Peter nodded again, his gaze darting continuously towards the commotion, wanting to get in there. "Yeah, I know." 

Tony looked like he wanted to say more, but Steve cut in, calling out to the whole team. All heads turned towards him, everyone suited up and ready to go, and Peter was reminded yet again that he was going on a mission with the actual Avengers. "Alright everyone, let's go!" 

○○○

The villain this time was some sort of rogue sorcerer, an overconfident man who wanted to prove his worth after being ghosted by Dr. Strange. Or something. Peter hadn't paid too much attention to the guy's backstory, as he wouldn't be directly dealing with him. 

In fact, the whole team would be steering clear of the sorcerer. Dr. Strange would have him under control, as he had more experience with his type. Their main focus was the rock-like creatures that the magic-user had summoned. They were wreaking havoc on the streets and even targeting civilians. 

In Peter's opinion, they did look sort of cool, with the way they rolled around reminding him of the droidekas from Star Wars. Or maybe like pill bugs. They had sharp stone teeth and occasionally part of them glowed a slight blue. 

But they also were violent and annoying as all hell, as they constantly destroyed property and terrorized civilians. Which was not cool. 

Peter swung over to a couple that was cowering behind a flipped over taxi cab. He landed just in time to throw a punch at the rock creature before it threw a large stone at them. Growling and lunging at Peter, the monster was much too enraged to properly put up a fight. The boy easily webbed it up and quickly turned away from the wiggling mass to make sure the civilians were okay.

After checking them over for any wounds, Peter escorted the couple over to the police barricade. There was a perimeter that the officers had set up and anywhere beyond that was safe ground. Peter had been evacuating people towards there for the past few hours now. 

He nodded at one of the officers and swung away, back into the danger. This routine continued on, with Peter rescuing families and reuniting lost children with their parents. There were even some people that had lost sight of their pets in the chaos, and Peter was more than happy to help them find their cats or dogs. 

Colonel Rhodes was seen helping as well, though he was usually at the other side of the perimeter. Sometimes they would cross paths and every time, Peter would show off just a bit, throwing in an extra strong kick to a rock creature or webbing them up extra carefully. 

He wanted to show just how useful he could be. If Peter got Rhodey to vouch for him, maybe he would be able to go on more missions in the future! Once, Peter even saw the man give him an impressed nod and Peter had swelled up in pride. 

Now, he was swinging through the mostly abandoned streets, keeping his eye out for anyone in danger, when Karen alerted him of a situation on a nearby bridge. Peter changed direction and headed closer, his enhanced hearing picking up the nervous crying of a young child. Peter sped up. 

When he arrived, he caught sight of a child being cornered on a small bridge, one of the rock creatures slowly rolling over, almost as though it was messing with the kid. 

Peter dropped down, standing up between the child and the creature, calling out, "Hey, pick on someone your own size!" Honestly, he could have thought of something better, considering they were almost the same size, but whatever, this thing probably couldn't understand him anyway. 

It was so caught off guard by Peter's arrival, that it didn't have time to move out of the way before the teen was shooting taser webs at it. The net-like webs held it to the ground, pulsing out electric shocks. Peter turned to make sure the kid wasn't hurt, when he caught the monster throwing out a small rock from a hole in the webbing. 

The rock wasn't big enough to actually hurt anyone, and so Peter wondered if the thing was just trying to be annoying. But he dismissed that thought, as the young boy in front of him startled as the rock landed by his feet, tripped backwards,... and then fell off the bridge and into the water below. 

Peter cursed under his breath. He had no clue just how deep this water was, but that kid was tiny and he could easily drown. Shooting a nasty glance back at the creature, Peter ran forward and jumped after the child. 

When he hit the water, every bone in Peter's body felt like it had frozen over. Damn, this water was cold. And it was the middle of autumn! At least he kind of had experience with swimming and he could see with this mask on, though the murky water still did seep through and sting his eyes. 

It wasn't difficult to spot the boy slowly sinking deeper and deeper, thrashing about. Peter latched on, glad for his super strength. It was not easy to carry something in water. Especially if you were carrying a human through water that had a decent current. 

But Peter pushed onward, Karen leading him towards the shore. He broke through the surface, gasping and wishing to take his soaked mask off. When he stepped onto the rocky shore, holding the young kid close, Karen immediately blasted his heater and he murmured out his appreciation. 

"Are you okay?" Peter asked the boy, who was coughing up water, but felt well enough to walk on his own. 

"Y-yeah," He answered, looking up at Peter with wide eyes. "Thank you, Spider-man!" 

Peter felt his heart swell. He pulled his mask up enough to breathe and smiled at the boy. "We better get you to your parents."

The boy fiddled with his hands and whispered, "Um, I live with my grandmother." 

A wave of empathy hit him. "Oh okay." Peter paused, then shrugged to himself. "Can I tell you something?"

"Uh huh," the kid responded, confused. 

"I live with my aunt." ('And sometimes my mentor/father figure Tony Stark' was left unsaid.)

A grin spread across the child's face. Peter was glad he could help out this boy who suddenly reminded him a lot of himself. He wished he had been told when he was younger that he wasn't weird for not living with his parents. Families came in so many different shapes and sizes. 

He found out that the boy's grandmother was waiting for him beyond the police's border. He stuck with him the whole time until the tyke found his guardian, hugging the worried older woman tightly. The lady thanked Peter ten times, tears in her eyes. 

The whole encounter was so satisfying, that Peter almost was able to ignore the way his whole body felt like a block of ice. Almost. 

His bones still felt like ice cubes, and his still dripping-wet suit did nothing to help with that. Sure, he had the heater on, but it wasn't able to completely dry the fabric. He moved slower than he would have liked to and his breath was strangely slow.

Peter pushed himself to continue rescuing civilians, webbing up any rock monsters he encountered. But his brain was beginning to grow hazy. It wasn't too bad though, so he kept going, his muscles aching as he swung through the air. 

Finally, after what felt like years, Steve announced that the sorcerer was stopped. The stone creatures literally crumbled to the ground, inactive, and Peter sighed in relief. He met up with Rhodey and they worked to ensure that every civilian was safe and accounted for. Then they found the others.

When Peter caught sight of the Iron Man suit, his mentor was already on his way over. The faceplate lifted to show Tony's tired face as he skimmed Peter over for injuries. 

"Are you doing alright?" 

Peter nodded wordlessly, giving a huge yawn and watching the tension leave Tony's shoulders when Rhodey confirmed Peter's condition. 

"Your kid's fine, Tones." The Colonel grinned at the teen. "He did great out there." 

An embarrassing flush spread across his cheeks, but he smiled meekly. Tony grinned as well, slinging an arm around Peter's shoulders. 

"You're soaked, kid. You can change at the Tower, and then we'll head out for dinner. Sounds good?" 

Peter hummed in agreement, resting his head on Tony's shoulder, not minding the metal one bit. Wow, he really was tired. And so cold. Hopefully he'd feel better in some dry clothes.

○○○

It turns out, he didn't feel better. Sure, the dry clothes felt nicer against his skin, but his body was still chilled and it didn't seem to let up at all. Peter's hair was almost completely dry (though his scalp was so cold, it felt as though it was still wet) as the team settled down at a table for their meal. 

They were gathering at a small homey Arab place because apparently, it was a tradition for the team to eat shawarma there after missions. The Avengers greeted the owners of the restaurant with a friendly respectfulness, and Peter got the feeling they knew each other well.

As the teen sat down next to Tony and Bruce, he tried his best to pay attention to the conversation, but it was difficult. He just couldn't clear the haze in his mind. He would catch a snippet of their conversation and then after returning to the present from spacing out, they would be talking about a completely new topic. 

At least the restaurant itself was nice. The lighting wasn't too bright and there were pleasant smells and sounds to accompany the lively chatter. Peter found himself wishing he could come here another time, when he wasn't feeling horrible. When his body didn't feel like it was being weighed down by lead, frozen into a block of ice. 

He really should stop being such a downer! He tried his best to appreciate his situation. Peter was having a post-mission celebratory meal with the Avengers! He was lucky they even let him on the mission at all. 

The sound of his fork tapping on his plate brought him back to the present, and Peter stared down at his dish, realizing he had been messing with his food, hardly eating. 

He looked up to see most of the team staring at him in concern. Tony was the one to speak up, nudging him gently in the side. "You feeling okay, bud?" 

"Huh?" Peter mumbled, blushing at the attention. "Oh yeah, just tired."

That answer seemed to satisfy some of the team, but Tony still stared at him. His mentor was used to Peter hiding injuries. "That makes sense…" He leaned in closer, whispering, "But if you're not doing good, you know you can tell me, right, kiddo?" 

Peter nodded, staring at his food until he felt Tony drop the topic with a hum, turning his attention elsewhere. And it's not like Peter was completely lying. Sure, he felt bad, but who wouldn't after falling into a lake in the middle of autumn? Peter didn't think there was much anyone could do. He would just deal with it and rest when he got back to the Tower for the night. Then he would be dropped off at his apartment tomorrow morning, have a great day in the city with May, and it would be like nothing ever happened.

At least that's what he kept trying to tell himself. But Peter was honestly getting so tired, his eyelids slowly lowering every few seconds on their own accord. It hit the teen that he hadn't been shivering. Is that why he was still cold? Did he not shiver because of the spider bite? 

This was all too much for the boy, and he didn't have the energy to worry about it for too long. All he wanted to think about was his bed at the Tower. It sounded so good right about now. 

Everyone was mostly done with their meals, with Peter desperately trying to stay awake throughout the evening. He was hit with the urge to use the bathroom, and decided that that would be a great way to move around and keep himself busy so as not to fall asleep. He leaned over and told Tony where he was going, before heading for the bathroom. 

And he was right because the walk there did wake him up a bit. But as he entered the stall and closed it behind him, he realized… It was a lot of work to stand. Peter's legs wobbled and he decided to sit instead of stand. After taking care of business, Peter made to leave the stall, but… oh, he couldn't see.

Peter blinked the dots out of his eyes and found himself lying down in the stall, his cheek pressed to the cold, dirty tile. He whined, feeling even chillier, but it was so hard to move… His eyelids were made of lead and his veins were filled with ice water. 

Where was he again?

○○○

Peter drifted, the cold, darkness ebbing and swaying around his very being. Why couldn't he see? Oh yeah, he had to open his eyes. 

An attempt was made, but his eyelids remained firmly closed. It was frustrating.  

Wait, why did he want to wake up?

Maybe he could just sleep. Sleeping was nice. Sleeping made him feel warm and cozy, right? So Peter let go, letting the darkness fully pull him in, wishing that finally he would be warm.

○○○

"...eter!"

"...ony,... wh…? Is he….?"

"...Le… ony, it's…"

There were so many voices. They sounded like they were underwater. No, he was underwater. Peter was the one under a thick layer of ice, and they were trying to break free and pull him to the surface.

It felt impossible to focus on the words. Everything seemed fuzzy, his body and his brain and his surroundings. 

How did it get like this? What was going on?

"Peter! ...lease...ke up."

The boy knew that voice. He loved that voice; it was the voice he heard on TV growing up, a voice that soothed his fears and encouraged him, a voice that reminded him of safety. 

He tried to listen because he felt like whatever that voice was saying must be important. 

"Peter…"

Yeah. That's his name.

"Wake up, please. Kiddo… you gotta wake up."

Why? Peter thought that sleeping would help. Now he had to wake up? 

Well, okay. If Tony wanted him to, then he would. Tony would never lead him astray.

○○○

When Peter finally crept back into awareness, his eyes slowly but surely blinking open, it was to a deep feeling of warmth and a ceiling covered in glowing stars. 

He was in his room at the Tower.

The teen shifted, his limbs feeling boneless and relaxed. It must have been from the warmth. He could see that he was buried beneath layers of thick blankets, smothering him in heat and pressure. He wore heavy, layered clothing that he could see after peeking down beneath the blankets. 

Peter's movements must have been fairly loud because he heard a quiet groan, and he looked to his side to see Mr. Stark sat in a chair by his bed. His mentor must have just awoken, as he was rubbing a stiff neck and blinking blearily. Then, he caught sight of Peter and sat upright, instantly alert.

"Welcome back, kid."

"Hi," Peter cleared his rough throat. He gratefully accepted a sip of water from a cup that Tony held out for him. "What happened?" 

Tony sighed, and rubbed his tired eyes. Peter instantly felt guilty, somehow knowing that he was the cause of his mentor's exhaustion. "D-did I do something?"

"It's more of what you didn't do."

Peter looked down at his lap, shifting in his bed nervously. There was a beat of silence before Tony sighed once again and moved to sit on the edge of the boy's bed. "Hey, I'm not mad, Pete." He reached to pat Peter's hand from under the blankets. "Why didn't you tell me you took a dive in a lake?" 

It all came back to Peter then, and he winced at the memories. He couldn't believe he had been that cold once. How had he managed to keep all of that pain a secret? He felt immensely glad that now he was warm and comfortable, bundled in layers of clothing and blankets.

"I swear I didn't mean to keep it from you… I thought I would be okay! I mean, I had changed and dried off…," he trailed off at Tony's intense worried gaze. "I'm sorry." 

Tony moved so that he was level with Peter, the boy sitting halfway up against the headboard, engulfed in his blankets still. His mentor wiggled his arm behind Peter's back and he couldn't help but lean against him on instinct. 

"I told you I wasn't mad, right?" Peter nodded. "I was being honest. This isn't your fault, but I want you to know that you have to tell me if you are ever not feeling well. You were… you were so out of it, kiddie. You scared me."

Peter blinked in surprise. "What?" 

Tony shook his head, holding the boy closer against his side. "Bruce said it had to do with your spider DNA. It was difficult to get you warmed up. You were in such a heavy sleep… apparently your body was trying to hibernate." 

"Hibernate?" Peter guessed that explained his sleepiness and his lack of shivering, but… what? It all sounded so weird. "Spiders do that?"

"I guess some do," Tony shrugged and looked down to make eye contact with Peter, trying for a smile. "But we got you to a warm enough temperature and, hey, you're awake now." His father figure leaned down to press a kiss to Peter's hair and the teen couldn't help but sigh in content, melting against him. "You'll be okay."

They settled into a comfortable, wonderfully warm silence. Peter felt himself dozing again as his nose pressed against Tony's chest and he jolted slightly. 

"Wait… did-did I do good?" 

Tony's voice sounded confused from above him. "What do you mean, baby?"

"Did I do good on the mission?"

A soft chuckle. "Well, Rhodey seemed to think so. And that's good enough for me. So I guess maybe you can come on some small missions in the future… on one condition."

Peter grinned, satisfied with that answer. "Yeah! What is it?"

"You have to tell me if you ever get hurt or feel unwell."

He rolled his eyes, but shrugged. "Yeah, okay." 

"Good." 

After another moment of silence, Peter murmured, "C'n I sleep n'w?" 

As a hand went to play with his curls, Peter decided he would be sleeping no matter how Tony responded. 

"Yeah, it's safe to rest now."

"'Kay."

Before he knew it, he was out and drooling against Tony's chest.

Chapter Text

Tony felt incredibly grateful to have Peter Parker in his life, but it was at times like this that he realized that patience was indeed a virtue.

He had agreed, upon May's request, to drop off and pick up Peter for his wisdom teeth removal. Since the two adults had begun co-parenting the teen, May had grown more at ease with asking Tony for favors. Sometimes he would have Peter over when it wasn't lab day (Wednesdays and Fridays) because May was working overnight. He even got calls from the boy's school sometimes when Peter was sick or struggling in a class.

So this request of May's wasn't strange at all, and Tony had actually found himself growing excited to see an adorable, loopy Peter. Not that he didn't see that side of him enough when he was in the Medbay, but in this case, there was no intense parental anxiety that accompanied an injury.

But as it turns out, Peter on pain meds, not confined to lying in a hospital bed, was a bit much. He wandered around constantly, with an attention span that was almost non existent.

Tony had been attempting to get the boy to enter the car for the past five minutes, but Peter was not having it, completely oblivious.

"Pete, how about you hop in?" He gestured to his black Audi.

Peter looked over in surprise, as though he had just noticed the car for the first time. "Wow."

"Yeah? C'mon, let's go."

The boy pointed. "'s yours? 'ooks ess-ex-esp-" He struggled to form the word around the brain fog and cotton in his mouth.

"Expensive?"

Peter nodded excitedly. "Y're rich?!"

A chuckle escaped his lips. This kid. "Yup. How about you see what the inside looks like?"

But Peter was already forgetting their conversation.

"Mm?" Peter mumbled, bending down to pick up a piece of trash from the parking lot ground.

Tony sighed and wordlessly took it from him, placed it back on down. Peter was quick to find something else to focus on.

This continued onward, until the spiderling was sitting down in an empty parking spot, clutching the vanilla milkshake that Tony had bought him prior to picking him up from the doctor. Peter's eyes were transfixed on a small, fuzzy, green caterpillar that wiggled along in front of him.

Tony thought, 'Why the hell not,' and sat down right across from him, settling in for however long it took until Peter decided he wanted to leave.

The kid continued to stare at the bug, occasionally bringing a spoonful if milkshake to his mouth and missing by a long shot. His wide eyes slowly began to droop and he shifted so that he was curled up on his side, sticky-with-milkshake cheek pressed on the asphalt and eyes still tracking the caterpillar. Peter made to poke the green bug, but he pulled back, deciding to let it be.

The tranquility of the moment hit the older man. There was a calm breeze blowing through the parking lot and he was sitting down with his kid safe in front of him, not a care in the world. Looking up at the puffy clouds in the sky, Tony let his eyes close and breathed in deeply.

Wait.

Had Peter just lied down… on the dirty parking lot ground? Tony's eyes flew open and he snapped to attention, staring down to see his charge breathing slowly, cheek to the ground, and a soft snore escaping lax lips.

Peter was fast asleep.

Tony groaned, rubbing the bridge of his nose in an attempt to keep his patience. He reached over to grab the milkshake from the boy's hand, stopping it from dripping on to the ground. Then he clasped a hand onto Peter's shoulder and shook.

"Pete, wake up."

"Mmmh," the kid hummed, easily peeking his confused eyes open. "Wha…?"

"Let's go, bud. Get off the ground." Tony began to help the boy get up, and Peter, still delirious as all hell, wobbled and swayed, yawning wide.

"We f'n'lly goin'...?"

Tony took a deep breath. This kid. After trying to get Peter into his car for who knows how long, the boy decided to act like he wanted to go the whole time?

Peter was lucky that his mentor was weak to those puppy dog eyes. Tony could never get mad at him.

He finally maneuvered Peter into the passenger seat, the kid waving goodbye towards the caterpillar after grabbing his almost empty milkshake. Tony hopped into the driver's seat to hear Peter already beginning another nonsensical ramble.

"-an' then they s'd th'nks Swider-m'n…!"

Tony nodded appeasingly as he backed out of his spot, beginning the ride to Peter and May's apartment. After a moment of silence, he looked over at the boy to see Peter giving him an expectant look.

"Oh, yeah. That's nice, kiddo."

Peter seemed satisfied with that answer, continuing to drink his milkshake, the spoon scraping the plastic sides as he neared the end of his treat.

They drove in surprising silence for the next bit of the ride, Tony asking Friday to play some music at a quiet volume. It was peaceful, Tony tapping the steering wheel to the beat of the songs as a pleasant breeze came in through the windows.

"Tony?" Peter spoke up suddenly, voice still slurred from the medicine and gauze.

"Yeah, Bambi?"

"Wh're we goin'?"

Tony thought he had told Peter earlier, but maybe the boy just forgot. "We're going to your apartment. I'll keep watch of you 'til your Aunt comes home from work." He turned to smile at the teen. "I was thinking I could cook dinner for her. Maybe you could help. Does that sound good?"

Peter was grinning wide at him, his eyes shining. "I w'nna cook fo' May!"

He struggled to contain his laugh at his cute kid. "Alright, then you can be my sous chef."

The smile that was on Peter's face morphed into a confused frown. "What's a s-so-... soup chef, dad?"

Tony froze, his heart completely stopping in his chest. 'Dad'. Peter had called him dad. The two of them had gotten so close these past six months and he did consider himself responsible for the kid. He co-parented with May, after all! And he knew Peter cared about him and sure, maybe he saw Tony as a father figure. But as his dad? Never would Tony have dared to believe that Peter would call him dad.

Of course, he loved the kid. Tony saw Peter as a son and he would have no problem with the boy calling him dad. Was it a title Peter purposefully used? He was hopped up on pain meds anyways.

What was Tony to say? Should he react? Should he bring it up later when Peter was more aware?

But right now the boy was staring at him, waiting for an answer. Tony swallowed and smiled down at the boy, hoping he hadn't been silent for too long. "It's uh, someone who helps the chef. Gathers ingredients and stuff."

Peter nodded, beaming. "Okay! I'll be y'r soup chef."

Chuckling at Peter's mistake, Tony allowed himself to settle down. He could address the whole 'dad' thing later. Right now, he had a delirious kid to take care of.

○○○

Cooking with Peter when he was on pain meds was truly an experience. The kid hardly actually helped and instead he would get sidetracked midway through whatever he was doing. Not to mention, he wanted to taste every ingredient before they were used.

The duo made a hearty soup (something that Peter could eat in his current state) and a loaf of bread on the side. Tony occasionally had to pause to change Peter's gauze out, much to the younger's annoyance. They made quick work and before long the soup was done and the bread was pulled out of the oven.

Tony covered the soup and set the temperature to low just to keep it warm, before turning to Peter. "How about you rest until May get's back? She'll be home any minute, bud."

Peter nodded. His meds were beginning to wear off and he was left achy and tired, but still slightly loopy. He trudged over to the couch and flopped down dramatically.

Took shook his head in amusement, moving to set the table. He planned to stay for dinner and then take off to the Tower. It would be nice to have a simple dinner with the Parkers, something he should be doing a lot more often.

As he was setting the last glass of water on the table, the sound of the door opening and Peter's excited gasp alerted him of May's arrival.

"May!" Peter exclaimed.

Tony turned, hearing May's fond laugh as both Parker's embraced each other.

"You missed me, Pete?"

The boy nodded, burrowing into his aunt's arms.

"Welcome home, May." Tony smiled. He approached the pair, grabbing May's bag for her and gesturing towards the kitchen. "We made dinner. The little rascal was a great help."

May seemed absolutely thrilled at the prospect of not needing to cook. They mosied over to the kitchen table and enjoyed their pleasant dinner together. It was a quiet, peaceful evening, and as Tony said his goodbyes to his kid and May for the night, he felt like his life was the best it had ever been.

And that was all because of a certain fifteen year old with puppy dog eyes and a heart of gold. A certain boy that had Tony realizing he was someone's dad now and he didn't mind one bit.

Chapter Text

Tony wasn't as dense as some people (namely Pepper and Rhodey) liked to say he was.

He knew he was sick. How could he not? He could hardly stand straight, he felt hot all over, and everything ached. But just because he was sick doesn't mean he had to be down for the count.

So of course, Tony spent the day working in his lab, blasting his music as he tinkered away and ignored Friday's incessant reminders to get some rest. She felt the need to repeatedly list his symptoms, as though he couldn't feel them.

He made sure to lock the lab door, as it would come as no surprise for either Rhodey or Pepper to burst in and attempt to drag him from his work. They didn't understand that he knew his limits and he had worked while sick enough to know when he needed small breaks.

(He may not have actually been taking those breaks this particular day, but no one needed to know that.)

Tony was blinking spots out of his vision as he stood up to retrieve a tool from across the room, when Friday spoke, startling him. "Boss, Peter has arrived at the Tower and is on his way up."

Oh, shit. Tony had completely forgotten that this was a lab day with the kid. He didn't mind hanging out with Peter, no, he loved it. He looked forward to each of their lab days. But today wasn't the best day, since he now had to pretend to be feeling well in front of the boy.

Well, Tony could act. He'd be fine. No use cancelling on the kid now.

The elevator opened a moment later, the bubbly teen entering the lab with a bright grin. "Hey, Mr. Stark!"

Tony plastered on a smile, trying to appear nonchalant as he subtly hid his tissues and fever reducers behind some pieces of machinery.

"Hey, Pete. How was school?"

He inwardly sighed in relief as the kid didn't seem to notice anything, chattering on about his classes and his conversations with Ned. Tony's fake smile soon turned real; there was something about this easy routine of theirs that put him at ease. Or maybe it was just Peter's presence.

Peter began to work on his homework and Tony returned to the project he had been building the whole day. There was an easy silence between them as they worked, a natural, calm silence that had Tony feeling drowsy. Or maybe that was just the medicine he took earlier?

The kid pulled out his web shooters and continued to work on his upgrades. Tony occasionally peaked over to see how the progress was coming along. Peter usually didn't ask for much help, though that was probably because he was smart enough to not need it. But Tony still wanted to make sure he was safe over there.

"Mr. Stark?"

He was startled out of his thoughts, blinking sluggishly and running a hand over his face. Wow, he really did feel like crap. "Yeah, bud?"

"Can you help me with this?" Peter gestured over to his notebook, most likely needing help with a new formula for web fluid.

"Of course."

Tony set down the tool in his hand and did a quick stretch in his chair, his back cracking loudly. He rolled his eyes at the small giggle Peter made at the noise.

When he went to stand up and walk towards the kid's workbench, his vision swimmed. Damn it, not now. He grit his teeth and brought a hand to clutch his head, the other holding tightly to the table to support himself. He ignored Peter's distant worried questions and instead tried his best to clear away the darkness clouding his gaze.

But it was useless, and before Tony knew it, he was falling, vision giving out completely.

○○○

Watching his mentor, Tony Stark, Iron Man, the man he had looked up to his whole life and now saw as a father, crumble to the floor was terrifying, to say the least.

Peter cried out in alarm, rushing to Tony's side too late, and wincing at the sound of the man hitting the ground.

Kneeling at his side, Peter was reminded of a similar incident that occurred with a different father figure. His blood turned to ice at that thought, and Peter had to reassure himself again and again that, no, Tony was not bleeding out. He hadn't been shot. This was Tony, not his uncle.

It took longer than he would have liked to admit to steady his breathing, but when he did, Peter directed his attention towards the ceiling.

"Friday?" He tried to stop his voice from shaking.

"Don't worry, Peter." The AI seemed to already know what Peter was going to ask. "Boss has sustained no injuries from his fall other than a few bruises."

Peter breathed a sigh of relief. He reached down to clasp Tony's limp hand. "What happened? Why did he pass out?"

"Boss has been feeling unwell all day," Friday informed him. "Luckily, his worst symptom so far has been a fever of 101.2 and, as you have seen, severe light-headedness."

What? How had Peter not noticed how sick his mentor was? Sure, he seemed a bit slower and spacey, but Peter just thought he was tired or something. "Why didn't he tell me?" He quietly wondered aloud.

But Friday believed Peter had wanted an answer. "He most likely didn't want to worry you."

Suddenly, Peter felt like he could understand how May and Tony felt when he kept his injuries from them. It usually only led to them feeling even more worried later down the line. No wonder they lectured him so often about his self-preservation skills.

"Oh," Peter mumbled, feeling guilty. "Um, what can I do to help?"

"Boss already took medicine about an hour ago, so there is no need to worry about his fever. But he now needs to rest. Also, fluids and possibly food, if he can stomach it, would be beneficial."

"Okay." Peter nodded, determined. That all sounded easy. He could help out. This was his chance to finally help Tony out the way that he usually did for him.

Peter hefted his mentor up, making sure to be gentle and not wake him. It was no problem at all to carry the man thanks to Peter's super strength. He slowly dropped Tony down on the beat-up sofa in the corner of the lab. He fetched a throw blanket and draped it across his mentor, smiling at his work. There, all comfy.

It was tricky to find any fluids in the lab that weren't dangerous for human consumption or coffee, so he made a quick trip up to the penthouse's kitchen for a bottle of water. While Peter was there, he retrieved a sleeve of saltines (the perfect sick time snack) and then brought his finds back to the lab.

Tony was beginning to stir, groaning and looking around in confusion at his current state. When he spotted Peter, the man raised an eyebrow.

Peter hurried over. "Don't get up! You have to rest." He set his supplies on the coffee table and wrung his hands, silently fretting over his mentor.

The confusion ebbed away to realization and Tony gave a groan, flopping down against the pillow behind his head and closing his eyes. "Did I… pass out?"

Detecting the frustration in Tony's tone, Peter hesitated to answer for a moment but ultimately he nodded. "Uh, yeah. Friday said you're sick."

Tony opened his eyes to fix a stern look to his mentee. "Yes. I am. Now whatever you're trying to do here-'' He gestured towards the water and saltines that Peter brought for him. "-needs to stop."

"Huh?" Peter was confused. Did his mentor really not want to be helped that badly? It seemed unfair, considering all he does for Peter.

"I'll text Happy and have him drive you home early." Tony seemed to have his mind set up.

"Wait, I-"

"Nope," Tony interrupted. "Listen, Peter, I'm sick. I shouldn't have let you in here in the first place. So you're gonna go home and let me get back to work."

Peter couldn't believe Tony was actually thinking about working in his current state. He had just passed out! "But Mr. Stark, you need to rest-"

"Stop it, kid. I'm fi-"

"No, you stop it!" And suddenly the teen couldn't take it anymore. There was a bit of him that was embarrassed at his outburst, but he kept going. "You're not fine. You literally passed out the moment you stood up! You're not taking good care of yourself."

Tony sighed. "Peter-"

"I'm not done! Why can't you just let me help you? Y-you're always helping me and keeping me safe, but the moment something happens to you, you push me away!" He felt like an indignant child, yelling at his father figure like this. "I-I just… Do you know how scary it was to see you crumble to the floor? I immediately imagined the worst… Yo-you're important to me, Tony. Important like a…"

Midway through his rant, Tony had begun to give him a soft look, as he patiently let the kid get it all out. By the end, he was sitting up, giving all of his attention to the boy. "Like a what, Pete?" He prompted.

Peter swallowed roughly, only now realizing that his eyes had grown misty. He decided to just get the words out; afterall, it's not like he hadn't already spilled his guts.

"You're important to me, like a… a-a dad."

The words were quiet and barely audible, but Peter could tell by Tony's reaction that he had heard. His mentor's lips were curled upwards into a gentle smile and his eyes shone happily. Or maybe that was just wishful thinking. Wait, why hadn't he said anything yet? Tony was being awfully silent.

"Um, I…," Peter mumbled out, not knowing whether to look at Tony or the ground. "I thought you felt the same, b-but I could have been wrong. In which case, this is a little awkward…"

He was interrupted by his mentor's chuckling, the sound warm and fond. He looked up to catch his eyes, worried and hopeful all at once.

"Sorry, kiddo. You just surprised me, that's all." He reached over to grab one of Peter's shaking hands and gently rubbed his knuckles with his thumb. Peter felt himself relax, sighing in relief. He wished he could hug Tony, but since the man was sick, this is probably the closest he could get to cuddling. "I've thought of you as my kid, my son, for so long now. And I'm so honored that such a kind, selfless, wonderful boy sees me as his dad."

Peter flushed, smiling goofily at his father figure's words. He clumsily intertwined their fingers, giggling a bit.

They both took a moment to enjoy the weight off their shoulders, playing with each other's fingers and feeling warm and content. It's not like this changed their relationship much at all, but it was still nice to get the words out and receive confirmation.

But then Peter remembered what had caused this whole moment in the first place, and the reason Tony was currently sitting on the lab's couch, his face flush and his hand abnormally warm.

"So now will you let me take care of you?"

Tony rolled his eyes and sighed. "Bud, I'm the adult here. You shouldn't be the one taking care of me."

"Well, you didn't seem to be doing the best job of taking care of yourself."

"Listen," Tony replied, sounding so tired and almost resigned. "I just don't want you to get sick."

"Okay, so I'll keep my distance, but still stay nearby!" Peter pulled his hand away from Tony's and smiled, knowing he was getting through to him. "I'll be there in case you need anything. I'll fetch supplies and keep watch to make sure you're okay. And then when Pepper comes home later, I'll be out of your hair."

There was a moment of silence.

"...You're not gonna let this go, are you?"

Peter grinned. "Nope!"

"...Fine. Okay."

The boy cheered, hopping in a little circle. He was oblivious to the soft smile Tony was throwing his way.

"Alright, now let's move upstairs. I'm not letting you rest in the lab, it's way too distracting!"

"Damn, I knew you would say that."

Peter was then at his side, gently helping him stand up as Tony grabbed the supplies. The boy was glad to see that it didn't seem as though he was going to pass out. They made brief eye contact and smiled at each other.

"How are you feeling, dad?"

Tony's eyes widened slightly, but he didn't look too surprised. He seemed to soften even more, a warm look passing over his face that Peter didn't understand.

"I'm good now, kiddo."