Chapter Text
Clearing out old footage stored on his computer servers is not Tony’s idea of an ideal Saturday night. Ever since he gave up the hero schtick for a more domesticated lifestyle, though, it's starting to feel like the norm. Gone are the days of drinking until sunrise and then drinking some more. These days are more warm milk and bedtime story focused.
FRIDAY had said something like ‘low system space… yada yada yada…’, and apparently the one of the largest tech conglomerates in the world can’t just make more space on their servers.. So here he is, sitting at his workshop desk, the majority of which is cluttered with old machinery parts and the like. He would tidy the space, but having a clean workspace makes him feel like he’s being unproductive. The disassembled parts at least give the appearance of progress.
Navigating through his computer interface, Tony makes it to his archival folders. Most of the files are just old flight tests, or outtakes from DUM-E’s sporadic videoing techniques. He’s about to ‘select all’ when something catches his eye. Or rather, someone. He’s not sure why he looks. But… there’s this kid with Tony in the thumbnail. He’s never seen this kid in his life. He’s got soft brown hair and honey eyes, and although the thumbnail is paused on a blurry scene, he’s smiling like he’s just been given a new car for Christmas. And Tony’s looking at him like he’s his whole world.
He taps his fingers on his desk for a few seconds, and hits play. The scene comes to life.
“Mr Stark!” the kid exclaims. “We have to be serious! This is for my internship, remember? I have to be serious.”
“Sure, of course, kid,” Tony says, though his smile says otherwise, “my bad. Are you getting this, DUM-E?”
There’s a whirring, affirmative noise from behind the camera, and the kid’s eyes crinkle with a grin.
“He’s still the coolest thing in this room.”
Tony gasps, “Really, Pete? You’re standing in a room with Tony Stark, yet this hunk of junk is the coolest thing?”
The kid shrugs, cheeky smile growing. “Sorry, Mr Stark. You’re just not it anymore.”
Tony huffs whilst shaking his head, and looks him in the eye, faux anger on his face. With the kid still giggling behind a hand covering his face, Tony breaks, grinning as well. Within seconds he’s reached his hands around and poked the boy in the sides of the stomach, and he yelps, folding over. Tony’s laughing and so is the kid, the scene awfully domestic.
Once they’ve regained their breath, the teenager says, “Mr Stark, that was take twelve! How are we supposed to fake an internship if we can’t even take a photo?”
Tony ruffles his hair, looking at him fondly. “Don’t worry, kid. I’ll handle it. DUM-E, end recording.”
The screen resets to the thumbnail that had first caught Tony’s eye. There’s an unsettling silence in the workshop, increased only by the fact that Tony has just seen himself with someone who could practically be his son . Tony leans back in his chair, eyes fixed on the monitor.
“Fri.”
“Yes, boss.”
“Who’s this kid?”
“My servers show no recognition of his face, sir. Would you like me to scan worldwide?”
“You know it.”
A moment’s pause.
“Scan complete. A 98% match has been located in Queens, New York.”
Tony’s brow furrows. ‘Huh… okay, Fri? The match?’
“Eighteen year old Peter Parker, sir.”
Peter Parker. The name isn’t familiar in the slightest. Tony had hoped there would’ve been a sudden revelation in his mind, alarm bells sounding at the first hint of this boy’s name. But, nothing. He flicks his wrist at FRIDAY’s interface and Peter’s file enlarges. He’s enrolled at a local college, nothing too flashy. Certainly nothing that would garner much attention. A few clicks later, and he’s got Peter’s file from the college servers on his screen. And yeah, holy shit . A GPA of 3.9, involved in the college’s robotics club, and a volunteer physics tutor for high-school students. He’s every employers’ dream.
But Tony can’t figure out how this kid, an apparent nobody in the grand scheme of the world, would have gotten his attention. He watches the video another three times.
************
“Mr Stark, I can’t thank you enough. A free seminar for our college is so incredibly generous. This is a wonderful opportunity for our students.”
Tony’s not really paying attention to the grateful college dean, eyes focused much more intently on the poster board behind her, flyers for science tutoring sessions overlapped with theatre sign-up sheets and football try-out reminders.
“Yeah,” he says, distractedly, “all good. It’s all— all for the students.”
He tries to think of what Pepper would say. God, she would be so much better in this situation. But it’s fine, he’s Tony Stark, he can handle this.
The door creaks open, and someone pokes their head around the corner. There’s a gasp, and then–
“Oh my god, I’m so sorry! I thought— I mean I was supposed to be here and then— I’ll just— I’ll just wait. Outside.”
The kid’s a mess. He’s bright red, flustered, and he’s about to leave the room when Tony spins around, and worlds collide. There, standing before Tony, is Peter Parker.
An expert at pretending he doesn’t know people, Tony manages a blank face. Peter blanches. Immediately he shrinks into himself, and darts his eyes between the Dean and Tony.
“Oh, Peter, you’re right on time,” the Dean reassures, “Mr Stark and I were just finishing up.”
Tony directs a stiff smile towards the Dean. Peter is still fidgeting in the doorway, clear fight or flight instinct bubbling up through his body. A few beats pass, and then the Dean says,
“Oh! How rude of me, I apologise. Mr Stark, this is Peter Parker. One of the college’s best and brightest. Peter, I’m sure I don’t have to introduce Mr Stark to you.”
Peter exhales and shakes his head, offering a reserved smile to Tony.
“It’s an honour to meet you, sir.”
You know me, Tony thinks, and then— Do you?
“Likewise, Mr Parker,” he says instead, charisma still in full thrust. “I hope to be seeing you next week at my conference.”
Well, he thinks he’s handled that well. In fairness, he wasn’t at all prepared for this situation. He’d made this whole plan in anticipation of seeing Peter next week, maybe . Not the very day Tony arrived at the college. Peter nods.
“Uh, yeah, I’ll check it out,” he says, though his tone is completely non-committal. There’s an immediate and observable loss of energy within him; Peter’s shoulders slouching, curling in almost as if he wants to hide within himself. He turns to the dean. “I’ll just wait outside for you to finish, if that’s okay? I don’t really want to, uh, intrude more than I have. It was great to meet you, Mr Stark, really.”
Just as quick as he entered, Peter is gone, leaving Tony with even more questions than he’d had when Peter walked in. The dean huffs an amused sigh, and shakes her head.
“Nice kid,” she begins. “Smarter than most, but dead quiet all of the time. Never seen him with a single person outside of school hours. He keeps to himself, I suppose.”
Tony thinks back to the kid he saw in the archived video. Bright, bubbly and sweet as all hell. That’s not you, he thinks. That doesn’t seem right. His stomach feels heavy. And now, thanks to no one but himself, he’s got a seminar to write. And a whole lot of research to do.
*********
Tony’s googled memory-loss cures, what causes memory loss, tony stark net worth (in fairness, he’s never claimed to be a humble man), and how to remember someone you don’t ever remember meeting. There’s been nothing but strange herbal tea remedies and head massage exercises that look like they would give him more brain damage. He’s at a loss, he’s frustrated, and there’s approximately 40 hours before he’s due to speak in front of a crowd of about three-hundred tired, and sweaty college students. Sue him if he can’t feel a little mad at the world.
He’s begun a mental note of all the questions he has unanswered. How did I meet Peter Parker? Why were we faking an internship for him? Why are we so close? And why do I look just about the happiest I’ve ever been in those videos?
He’s just about close to spiralling when FRIDAY alerts him to a presence at his door. A small, bouncing silhouette appears behind his tinted glass door, and Tony’s heart pinches.
“Dad? Mommy said to tell you that dinner is ready. She also says to hurry, because, um— because she really wants to leave time for ice-cream.”
Morgan’s almost six now (God, she’s growing fast. Tony’s getting old .), and she’s the most precious thing in Tony’s life. He’d save the world for her. He’d die for her, if he had to. There’s no shortage of love in his heart for his daughter, and she knows it, and she’ll exploit that at any moment. Like father, like daughter, he supposes.
“Coming, Morguna,” he calls. “Dad’s just finishing some work. Why don’t you go tell Mom she doesn’t have to worry, there’s always time for ice-cream.”
Morgan shriek-laughs, and her giggles fade as she scurries back up the stairs to the kitchen, no doubt in her mind that she’s fooled Tony. It’s the best thing he’s heard in a good few days, spending the majority of his time in the shop, searching for answers. He turns to look at his screen, and tabs over to the video of him and Peter. He’s not watched it since the day he found it. If he’s being honest, he doesn’t really want it to be real. Because if it’s real, then he doesn’t know something. Tony hates not knowing things.
“Fri?”
With the intelligence of a software that only Tony could code, FRIDAY knows exactly what he’s asking. “Shutting all systems down, sir. Get some rest.”
“Thanks, Friday. I’ll try.”
He heads towards the door of his workshop. He doesn’t need to worry. Just a normal evening, with his family. They’ll have dinner, and dessert (at Pepper’s request, of course), and they’ll watch a movie, and go to bed, and he can pretend that there isn’t a kid out there who’s curled up in his own bed, missing Tony like a son would miss his father.