Chapter Text
Tony can remember the exact date and time at which Piper Parker walked into his workshop with a different energy.
It was a normal day, excessively so, Tony had slept a full 8 hours, woken up at 7 am and eaten both breakfast and lunch. Maintaining a mundane routine was turning out to be the most fulfilling thing the philanthropist had ever done. Well-rested, fed, and showered, Tony Stark settled into his workshop with a juice and his Metallica playlist.
Determined to exercise his billionaire privileges, he had marked February off in the calendar. Pepper was prohibited from dragging the businessman to any meetings for a whole month whilst the man worked on a “personal project” - mostly just trying to sort his life out. The only Stark Industries or Avenger’s work he’d have anything to do with was Piper.
She was intended to be a temporary fixture, Spider-woman could help fix the accords situation, maybe step in occasionally when things got messy, but one hundred percent kept at a distance to allow Tony to uphold his dysfunctional life style without affecting too many people. The universe, however, had other plans. Finding the kid actually made good company, the mechanic had offered her an internship, thus Wednesday and Friday nights became special.
PIper always managed to fill empty moments. She always had something to gossip or giggle about, or questions ranging from existential (“What do you think your purpose is, Mr Stark?”) to down-right ridiculous (“Would you rather be a genius chicken with no way to communicate with humans or a really stupid human with the ability to communicate with chickens?”). And somehow, despite the truckloads of trauma she’d acquired, Piper carried an air of positivity with her. If you were close, you couldn’t help but breathe it in.
Having the spider-kid in his life had actually been pretty enriching; with something to look forward to, self-care was much easier.
But on Wednesday the 9th of February, Piper shuffled into the workshop with her eyes trained on the floor. Swamped by a hoodie that definitely didn’t look like hers, she mumbled an absent “Hi” before lowering herself into her chair with an absurd amount of caution.
Tony’s first thought was that she was injured. It wouldn’t have been the first time that Piper had kept a pretty severe injury from all of the adults in her life, managing to send both Tony and Ben into a frenzy whilst maintaining a strange calmness. He was sure the kid would send him to an early grave.
Setting his screwdriver down on his workbench, Tony swivelled his char to face her, “What’s up kid?”.
Her eyes flicked up to meet his as if she’d barely registered his presence, before pulling the corners of her lips into an uneasy smile, “Nothing’s up, everything’s great.. how was your day?”.
Tony narrows his eyes, “Don’t deflect, you’re acting weird. Tell me what’s wrong”.
“Nothing’s wrong, Mr Stark, I just had a long day”. Her arms wrapped around her stomach in a self-soothing gesture, Tony could tell she wanted to lift her knees up to her chest and rock like she tends to do when she’s overwhelmed.
“Where are you hurt?”.
Piper frowns, her head tilting a little to the right, “What?”.
“Come on squirt, tell me now so we can sort it”.
“I’m not hurt”, she looks so sincere that Tony believes her for a moment, but he’s dealt with this situation too many times.
“If you won’t tell me I’ll just ask Friday”.
A silent moment passed, long enough that Tony knew she wasn’t about to give anything up. He raised an eyebrow, irritated that it had gotten to that point again. He’d hoped that they’d reached a point in their relationship where she trusted him and knew how it stressed him out when she self sabotaged over and over.
It was only when he looked away from her and started to ask Friday for a full medical report that she opened up, “Tony don’t!”.
The use of his first name shocked him enough to pause his request. It had become a running joke that Piper refused to refer to him in any way that wasn’t formal, except for in moments when she really panicked.
“I’m not hurt, I promise… I had a fight with Ben”.
She tugs on a stray curl, giving into the urge to tuck her legs up to her chest and suddenly looking very small. Sometimes Tony forgets that she’s 16, her rounded face and doe eyes form a childlike image that combined with her small frame could help her pass for much younger.
And for a moment he can’t think of anything to say. Piper’s relationship with Ben is special, they’re each other’s last surviving relatives, they’ve been through trauma and grief together. Ben is the man that raised her, and Tony has no business involving himself in it.
Desperate to fill the heavy silence, Piper elaborates, “I did something stupid and he got angry and stormed out this morning, I didn’t see him before I left for school and he hasn’t answered my texts”, Tony just sat there, “…I just hate leaving things like this”.
Tony knew about May.
He knew they’d had a fight, because Piper was keeping secrets after she became Spider-woman. They’d parted ways on bad terms, Piper had gone to school and May had headed to work. Ben was working late, so when May didn’t come home, Piper was alone. By the time Ben made it home, she was already having a meltdown, her fears confirmed when Ben received a call from the hospital. May had been shot.
Tony was shocked that Ben would leave on an argument after that, it had taken months of therapy for Piper to be able to talk about what happened to May, so whatever they argued about must have been big.
In the end, all he can think of to say is, “You okay?”.
Piper shrugs.
He should hug her. He should tell her they’ll skip the lab today and head upstairs and watch a movie with snacks and blankets. He should rub circles on her back until she falls asleep and then contact Ben so they can sort whatever it is out.
But he doesn’t, because Piper and Ben’s relationship is none of his business. He’s not her dad, he’s not even her uncle, just a glorified mentor.
The mechanic turns back to something he finds easier: tinkering. “Okay kiddo, let me know if you need anything”, he knows she won’t.
***
Piper didn’t get anything done in the four hours she sat in the lab, spending most of it with her head resting in her math book. Tony noticed, but he didn’t say anything. A tense silence smothered both of them until Friday announced Ben’s arrival in the lobby.
Tony wasn’t ready for the kid to look at him with panicked eyes, a nervous shiver working its way up her spine.
“You want me to let him in?”.
Piper looks from the door, to Tony, and back to the door again. Despite the oppressive silence, Tony can almost hear the torrent of thoughts storming through her brain, it isn’t the first time he’s seen her deer-in-headlights impression. And despite the familiarity of these tendencies, the mechanic can’t help but feel a little uneasy. Of course he’s seen the kid dealing with panic before, she’s a ball of anxiety, but it’s never been caused by Ben. This feels like something different - something deeper.
After a few more moments of a frozen spider-kid, Tony pushes his chair towards her. A flash of guilt sparks when his hand on her knee makes her jump, and he gives her what he hopes is a reassuring smile, “I’m gonna need an answer kiddo, can’t have people loitering in my lobby at 8pm”.
Eyes widening suddenly, Piper shakes her head gently, “Yeah of course, sorry, let him in, you can let him in”, she pauses as Tony waves a hand for Friday, “It’s just Ben”.
Concern flared at the last murmured comment, but there wasn’t a lot of time to address it, because within seconds Ben Parker was half-jogging, half-bounding down the stairs and into Tony’s lab with a similar look of panic on his face.
Before Tony has time to process what’s happening, Piper has burst into tears, and Ben looks like he’s not far off doing the same.
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I know it was stupid I’m sorry, I’m so stupid”, the kid presses her sweater-covered palms into her face, tears almost soaking through the fabric immediately.
“Hey! Hey no, no Pip I’m sorry”, Ben rushes forwards to kneel in front of her chair, one hand pulling her close and the other cupping her head, “It’s okay, it’ll all be okay”.
Piper continues to sob into Ben’s t-shirt as the man quietly tries to soothe her, and Tony sits there, watching.
It’s not his place to get involved, now certainly isn’t the appropriate time to ask what happened, and even if he decided to fuck what’s appropriate and ask anyway, both Parkers are sobbing and he probably wouldn’t get much of a coherent answer anyway.
Once Piper has regained a modicum of control, she lifts her face from her hands and turns to her mentor with an embarrassed smile on her face, “I’m so sorry Mr Stark”.
Tony smirks, “Don’t worry about it kiddo, it’s no water off my back”, he reaches a hand forward to ruffle her hair, “Go get some rest, I’ll see you on Friday”.
She nods, rocking to her feet with her hand clenched in the fabric of Ben’s t-shirt. Tony pretends not to notice this as she leaves, also ignoring the way that she’s still shaking as her and Ben walk up the stairs. He’s not sure if he’ll ever know exactly what that was about, but it seems like the Parkers have sorted it out between themselves.