Chapter Text
Tony had always known he was a Guide. Even before he presented at sixteen, he knew.
Maybe it was because he always had a strong sense of empathy, but the more likely reason was because his father always reminded him of how pathetic and sensitive he was.
His father was neither a Guide nor Sentinel and had no time for people that were.
Sentinels were beings with hyper enhanced senses, some with the ability to see infrared light or hear a heartbeat of a person hundreds of feet away. It was impressive and concerning all at the same time and it was why they’ve been used in conflicts in the past. It was an invaluable skill, being able to sense your enemy before they even knew what hit them. The only issue was, Sentinels often become overwhelmed by their senses, getting overloaded frequently if they focused too much or even having a Zone Out if they focused on one sense for too long. That was why any Sentinel over level six had to have a Guide by law to anchor them, helping them when their senses become too much and acting as an emotional anchor. Zone Outs without a Guide to help bring them back often had fatal consequences for Sentinels.
It was a bittersweet day when Tony presented at sixteen, he felt the knot in his stomach settle, finally confirming what he expected for so long, but it also made his father right and he hated that.
‘I knew it.’ Howard had scoffed at the teen, offering no kind words, which wasn’t anything new.
From then on, Tony had learnt to hate the empathic side of himself, but more so, he despised himself for being exactly what his father had told him he was. Some weak, emotional Guide who would spend his whole life searching for a Sentinel who would accept him.
Unfortunately, his father was right again on one of those points. He was a terrible excuse for a Guide. Tests confirmed he was a Level 3 at best, but that suited him fine. He didn’t want to ever find a Sentinel and with a rating that low it was unlikely he could ever bond with one. He wasn’t going to waste a single moment finding anyone, and once he completed the compulsory Guide training, putting in as little effort as humanly possible, he pushed all thoughts of the stupid subcategories aside.
And he did. Tony hadn’t so much as thought about Sentinels since he made that promise, even after he was orphaned at twenty one, he repressed that part of him until one day he stopped recognising other Guides and Sentinels all together.
Of course, he’d matured a lot since then and his views on life had drastically changed, completely transforming his interests along with all of Stark Industries, but his view on Sentinels never budged.
They were a hindrance, a responsibility Tony never wanted, even now when the prospect of having his own children wasn’t a horrifying thought.
Tony prided himself having a normal, successful life and wasn’t held back by anyone, least of all by his partner who had neither classification.
Pepper never mentioned anything about him being a Guide, nor did she ask if he was ever going to look for a Sentinel or support other Guides. She knew it was a topic Tony disliked and she seemed disinterested in the whole thing, which was a reason Tony thought they suited so well.
It was times like this he missed her, sat with his head in his hands, at a loss of what to do and time running against him.
Deep down he knew he could never leave Iron Man behind, not even for Pepper, as much as he tried after destroying his suits. It was bigger than both of them, without Iron Man the world would be in danger and Tony Stark would just be another brick in the wall of people that had the capabilities to help, but refused to act on it.
He only hoped putting the Accords in place would help her see Iron Man wasn’t just an ‘obsession’ as she called it, but something that could be, and has been, used for good.
But as usual, nothing could go right, and now here he sat with thirty six hours to bring Steve, Bucky and Sam in to sign the Accords before Ross put bounties on their heads as criminals.
Tony could practically see it coming, as soon as Barnes was thrown back into the mix, Steve was a lost cause no matter how bad the super soldiers actions were.
He literally killed a king, yet there Steve went, running straight back without a second thought and abandoning his team - or at least the half that agreed with the Accords.
Steve was a guide, which surprised Tony when he found out back on S.H.I.E.L.D’s Helicarrier. The billionaire deemed him as too hyper aware to be anything but a Sentinel, but when he discovered the super serum had changed his presentation to a high level guide, it all made a bit more sense.
What made perfect sense was why James Barnes was a Sentinel. Maybe Hydra messed with that part of him too, because the man seemed even less empathetic than Tony, but there was no doubting the mans powers.
Tony had never seen Steve and Bucky together but he knew they were bonded, simply from the protective wave Steve emitted whenever his Sentinel was mentioned. It was a territory thing, but it was also more than that. The two hadn’t just imprinted, they were soul bonded - a rare type of pairing that has often been described as ‘soulmates’.
Tony didn’t have time for that cliche bullshit.
The only thing he knew about those kinds of bonds was what he had been taught in school decades ago. Apparently some bonds could be so strong it could form once the Sentinel and Guide simply laid eyes on each other, others formed on a first touch or kiss, platonic or not. Those bonds were so strong that if it was ever broken, the Sentinel and Guide would suffer terribly.
Everyone knew Steve could have jumped from the plane that day back in 1942, but the Guide inside him was already dying with the broken bond between him and Bucky.
A bond that strong, no one could come between. Even if that meant betraying your friends apparently.
That’s why it was no surprise seeing him run from Ross.
“I have an idea.” Nat said, stood staring out of the glass encased conference room. She was a particularly heartbreaking case.
As much as Tony hated the concept of Sentinels, reading her file to discover the Red Room had physically altered her genetics to make her Sentinel dormant physically upset him. He once had the courage to ask her about it, but she brushed it off, saying Sentinels were too much of a liability to be an assassin. If you can’t work alone you’re weak.
The red-head’s response sounded rehearsed and her facial expressions were dead as she spoke, making it all too clear she mourned that part of her. Tony had once looked into reversing what they’d done to her but the process was too horrifying to consider. There was a reason it was illegal to alter people's subcategories.
Tony raised an eyebrow. “Me too, where’s yours?”
Nat smirked in her usual cunning way. “Downstairs, where’s yours?”
As soon as May Parker, Spider-Man’s oddly attractive aunt, let Tony into her Queen’s apartment, something hit him.
Not physical, it wasn’t like the woman had turned around and slapped him, but the internal feeling was similar.
Before he had a chance to figure out what was throwing him off, he had a slice of date loaf thrust into his hands. He couldn’t even inform her he didn’t like being handed things, he was so taken aback he just accepted it and sat down on the couch beside her.
“He should be home any minute, he’s often back a little late. Gets distracted easily, you know how teenagers are.”
No, Tony thought. He didn't.
It was then his brain started giving him cohesive thoughts again, and every one led back to the word Sentinel.
Tony’s eyes widened momentarily. Is that what this was? Was May a Sentinel? She must be high level to have the effect she was having on Tony, but nothing about her person said Sentinel, or even Guide.
Maybe his observations were rusty since he’d actively ignored identifying peoples subcategories for years now, but he thought if a Sentinel that strong was sat in front of him, he’d know.
And then in came Mr Parker, and everything fell into place.
It wasn’t May he sensed, it was Peter.
Once the Sentinel noticed Tony next to his aunt, he froze in his ramblings, pulling his earphones out and stuttering a hello.
“It’s about time we met, you’ve been getting my emails, right?“ Tony played off coolly, managing to persuade May to give them a chance to talk in private.
“As walnut date loafs go, that wasn’t bad.” Tony said, spitting the slightly foul tasting mouthful into the bin before continuing to investigate the kids room.
“Oh what do we have here, retro tech huh? Thrift store? Salvation Army?” Tony asked, genuinely curious about the boy.
“The uh garbage actually.” The boy answered shyly. And who could blame him, a literal genius, billionaire, hero stood in his bedroom talking to him.
“You’re a dumpster diver.”
“Yeah- uh, Mr Stark-“
“Nope, me first. That’s you, right?” Tony said, casting the video as a hologram between them.
Peter’s eyes widened, crossing his arms defensively. “Um-no. what are you- what do you mean?”
“Wow look at you go.” He said, watching as the video showed Spider-Man swinging through the streets.
“That’s all on YouTube right? It’s all fake, it’s-“
Tony hummed, unlodging the latch on the ceiling and low and behold, the red and blue suit fell into view.
Before Tony could inspect it though Peter had jumped in front of him, snatching the suit away.
“So… you’re the Spider-ling.” Tony continued, trying to read the boy.
“Spider-Man.” Peter corrected, moving back to his desk whilst Tony went to pick the suit back up. “I can’t believe I was actually having a really good day, you know.”
“Who else knows? Anybody?” Tony asked, cutting off the kid’s rambles.
“No one.” Peter answered with a look that Tony could only determine as loneliness.
In classic Tony Stark way, he chose not to address the emotive topic further, instead looking at the kids web fluid. “The tensile strength of this is off the charts. Who manufactured that?” He asked, throwing the cylinder at the kid who unsurprisingly caught it with ease, not even looking up - further confirming the billionaire's beliefs.
“I did.” The Sentinel answered.
Tony was momentarily impressed before he noticed the god awful goggles attached to his suit, “Lordy, can you even see in these?” He half joked, raising them to his face and finding they must only let in about 10% of natural light.
“Yes! Yes, I can.” Peter argued, pulling the suit from Tony to once again shove it in the bottom of his wardrobe.
“I can see in those okay? It’s just… when whatever happened happened, it’s like my senses have been dialled to eleven. There’s way too much input so they- they just kind of help me focus.”
“You’re a sentinel.” Tony stated. It wasn’t a question.
Peter nodded, moving to sit on the edge of his bed. “Yeah.”
“And -“
“I have precautions in place.” Peter cut in, knowing what Tony’s next question was going to be.
Tony sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. He couldn’t help but feel concerned for the kid. “No guide, figures. Is that safe for you? What level are you?”
“Five.” Peter muttered, unconvincing.
“You’re a terrible liar.”
Peter ran a hand through his hair, uncomfortably shifting on the bed. “I was a five. And then the spider bite changed me and my senses got even worse. Or better. Depends how you look at it.”
“And you haven’t been tested since?”
“No. People would ask questions and… they’d make me get a guide.”
Tony huffed. “And for good reason. I could sense you a mile off, do you know how dangerous it is not having a Guide if you're this strong?”
“You could sense me?”
“Yes, as soon as I walked in here. At first I thought it was Aunt Hottie but-“
“She doesn’t have a sub category.”
“Exactly.”
“I-I still don’t understand. You’re a guide?”
“No. Well… yes, but low level and nothing I like to delve into. What’s your MO?” Tony quickly asked, suddenly wanting to avoid the current conversation.
“Sorry? But you said you could sense me, I’ve never, uh, had that before.”
“Maybe you just need a shower, who knows, why are you doing this? I gotta know, what’s your MO? What gets you out of that twin bed in the morning?” He asked, hoping to throw Peter off with a ton of questions.
The kid stuttered, blinking as if he was still trying to get his head around everything.
“Because… because I’ve been me my whole life. I’ve had these powers for six months and if you can do the things I can, but you don’t and then the bad things happen, they happen because of you.” Peter explained slowly and thoughtfully.
Tony leaned forward in his chair, genuinely listening to what the kid had to say. He didn’t realise the dorky dumpster diver was somehow so mature. Most kids getting these powers would probably just mess around, seeing what they could throw or crush to impress their friends, or become some incredible athlete, but this kid? He was a good kid. Tony knew that, he could almost sense it in his chest.
“So you wanna look out for the little guy. You wanna do your part, make the world a better place and all that.” Tony thought out loud, trying not to think me too, kid. You’re just like me.
Peter nodded, fiddling at the loose cotton on the cuff of his hoodie.
Instinctively, he rose wanting to be closer. “I’m gonna sit here, so you can move the leg.”
Peter nodded quickly, budging over a little.
Tony sighed, sitting down, studying the boy for a moment.
He raised his hand, putting it on Peter's shoulder and his world seemed to explode.
He felt it in the core of his chest, like millions of lost atoms coming together to form one perfect, stable, state.
He could feel the soft, worn fibres of Peter’s jumper under his fingertips, the beating of his heart with Tony’s as if they were in sync.
For the first time in his life he didn’t feel lost. He felt grounded and happy and whole, like he’d found purpose after years of wondering.
When he opened his eyes, Peter still had his eyes closed, looking like he was almost floating.
Tony couldn’t even bring himself to blink, worried for the boy in front of him.
“Peter.” He said, squeezing the kid's shoulder to snap him out of it before removing his hand and creating a mental note to not touch the kid again.
The just boy blinked, slowly and confused as if he’d just woke from a long night's sleep.
“Are you listening?” Tony quipped, trying to act like nothing happened. Because nothing did happen. It was just… it was nothing. It was everything.
“M-Mr Stark?” Peter whispered, staring wide eyed at Tony.
“Yes?”
“What… what was that?”
“What was what?” He played off even though he was on the verge of the mother of all panic attacks.
“That- when you touched my shoulder, it was like-“
“Ah that. Just an electric shock, my bad. It’s all this working in a lab, gets staticky.”
Peter shook his head. “No that’s not-“
“Have you got a passport?”
“Wh-“
“You ever been to Germany?”
Peter frowned, unable to process what was going on. “N-no.”
“Oh you’re going to love it.”
“I can’t go to Germany.”
“Why?”
“I… got homework.”
“I’m gonna pretend you didn’t say that. I’ll get Happy to pick you up tonight.”
“W-wait, Mr Stark-“
But Tony didn’t wait. He practically ran out of the apartment, saying a hurried goodbye to May and almost collapsing once he made it outside.
What the hell was that?