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Tony Stark had never seen Penny Parker cry.
He'd seen her upset, sure. At the ferry (which he tried not to think about too often) when he'd taken her suit, so afraid she'd get herself killed that he'd pulled the plug on the whole thing, she'd been sad. Really sad. And angry and desperate. But she hadn't cried. She'd just gone quiet, not looking at him when he'd found her some clothes he'd barely looked at and had sent her home, sans suit. And when he'd first offered her a real internship, after she'd turned down his offer to join the Avengers, she'd been…overwhelmed. Surprised. Happy. But she still hadn't cried.
It hadn't been easy, letting her into his lab. He never let people into his lab. And when he'd first gotten the idea to give her a real internship, he hadn't even planned on letting her into his personal lab. He'd planned on coming up with some kind of actual plan for her to follow…experiments she could do with other workers who would supervise her and a program for her to finish so she could get a certificate that said she'd finished the Stark Industries Internship Program (not that it was an actual thing but he was working on it) and then it would look great on her transcript.
But the first day she'd shown up at the Compound, she'd looked so…excited. And she'd smiled up at him, tentative and hopeful and she'd clasped her hands in front of her, obviously trying not to bounce on her toes. "Um…thank you again, Mr. Stark. I mean…for all this. I didn't even know you guys had a real internship program."
"Don't mention it," he'd assured her, all too aware that he'd been so wrapped up in Avengers paperwork and working on plans for his nano-suit and trying to finish the nano-suit he'd been working on for Penny that he hadn't actually finished those plans for her internship…mostly because he'd thought it was next week. Thankfully, Friday had reminded him a half hour before she'd arrived. Unfortunately, she hadn't reminded him soon enough for him to set up an entire internship schedule.
"I can't believe I actually get to see your lab!"
And, figuring he had a couple of hours to kill, he'd taken her into the lab she'd been so excited to see and he'd given her a tour. She had bounced in excitement, then, and he'd tried to look like he knew what he was doing…like this wasn't the first time a teenager had ever been in his personal lab, actually working under him. He'd managed to stretch that first tour into a two-hour affair, sure that if he just kept going over new safety rules and lab equipment she'd get bored eventually.
She never did.
At the first long pause where he'd tried to figure out what exactly should come next, she'd tentatively raised her hand, and he'd snorted, removing the sunglasses he'd kept on the whole time.
"Yeah, you in the front."
She'd grinned. "Um…so…what are we going to work on?"
When he'd been quiet, she'd hurried to go on.
"I just mean…I've never had a real internship before so…I wasn't sure…"
"I thought we'd start with your suit." The words he'd blurted out had been the first to come to mind, but in the end, it had been a good idea. And so, she'd pulled her suit out of her backpack, eager to hook it up and start learning.
The next time she'd joined him for her internship, showing up bright and early on Sunday morning, Tony had been more prepared. He'd had a whole presentation on programming AIs. She'd taken notes and everything, the two of them working until her stomach had growled angrily, interrupting him mid-sentence. She'd been horrified, eyes going wide and one hand pressing to her stomach as though that might quiet it down.
But when he'd looked at the clock, realizing it was past noon, he'd felt like an idiot. What kind of person invited a teenager to work with them and then forgot to feed them?
"I'm sorry…I can grab a protein bar from my backpack…"
"Come on, kid. I forgot about lunch. How's spaghetti sound?" he'd asked, brushing away her discomfort and trying to pretend this didn't feel all-too domestic. Sure, he'd cooked for Pepper plenty of times. But cooking for a kid…that was different. And when she'd offered to help, making a garlic butter to spread on a loaf of french bread, the two of them talking about school and her aunt May, he'd told himself that this was a totally normal internship. That she was just a kid he was mentoring.
That there was nothing more to it.
Tony Stark had never wanted to be anything close to resembling a father, and this kid didn't need a father, so…there wasn't even a reason to think that word.
Penny had showed up injured more than once, always trying to hide injuries from him. But still, no matter the cuts and bruises she'd had, she'd never cried. Not when he had to literally stitch her up. Not when he'd had to have a doctor reset her wrist when it had started to heal incorrectly. Not when she'd burned herself in the lab and had rushed over to the sink to stick her hand under hot water.
Not even while watching Coco.
Movie nights hadn't been in the internship plan. Honestly, he still had no idea how that had happened. Movie nights were something you did with family, not with your intern. She was his intern. She was a superhero…one he wanted on his team. She was brilliant. She had a superhuman strength the likes of which he'd rarely seen. She looked at him sometimes with something that looked like hope. So when she'd stayed at the Compound one Sunday night when the weather had been too bad to send her home and she'd stood awkwardly in the kitchen, looking lost and worried, like she was imposing on his life, he'd put the dishes in the dishwasher and wiped his hands on his pants like he had any idea what he was doing.
"Alright, kid. How about a movie?"
So…he guessed he did know how movie nights had happened.
It had been nearly a year since the internship had started. Six months since the movie nights had become a semi-regular thing. Tony thought he was pretty good at this whole mentor thing by now. He was used to her science-based puns and the t-shirts she wore, always grinning at him while she waited for him to laugh. He knew that she didn't really like chicken alfredo but that she'd eat it if he put it in front of her because she'd eat basically anything he made. He knew that her favorite chips were Doritos and that she liked the granola bars that had the little coconut flakes the best. He knew that providing her with energy drinks was a bad idea, but that she wouldn't drink coffee that wasn't 90% sugar and chocolate syrup.
But he didn't know what to do when she cried.
They were an hour into their lab time when he turned and saw her crying. Not loudly. In fact, if he hadn't chosen that moment to turn around, he might never have known. Silent tears ran down her cheeks, and her lips trembled as she screwed them up, shoulders shaking every so often as she fought it. She didn't want to be crying. She especially didn't want to be crying in front of him.
He wanted to turn back to his work…to give her privacy. He wanted to pretend he'd never seen her tears or the way her hands shook as she tried to take notes on what she called her 'new and improved' web formula. He wanted to excuse himself and go to the kitchen and make lunch and hope that when it came time to eat, she would have stopped crying and that they'd never have to talk about it.
That would be better than his father had ever done. Hell, his father would have backhanded him for such an emotional outburst.
But, Tony realized suddenly, he wasn't even comparable to his father. His father had never spent time with him in the lab. They'd never laughed together over science jokes, or watched Disney movies together. Hell, Tony was a better parent to a girl that wasn't even his kid than his dad had ever been to his own son. So he put his screwdriver down, as quiet as he could, and approached slowly, much like one might approach a rabid dog.
"Hey…kiddo?" he asked, making his voice as gentle as he could. It felt awkward…stilted. But he was trying.
"Sorry. I'm fine…sorry. I…I'm so sorry."
He reached her, putting a careful hand on her shoulder. "Nope. Don't be sorry. You don't have to be sorry."
"This is so stupid. I'm at work! I shouldn't…I'm so…"
"Not stupid, either." He shook his head, not wanting this kid to ever think that she had to be sorry for being upset. Not because of him. "You, uh…you want to take a break?"
"I need to finish this…"
"I hate to break it to you, kid, but this web formula is as 'improved' as it's going to get." He gave her the best smile he could manage when she looked up, her eyes red-rimmed, lips still trembling, but she tried to smile back.
"I think I can make it last longer."
"Why?"
She shrugged, trying to laugh. "Increased police response time due to staffing issues?"
He smiled, patting her shoulder, and they sat together in silence for a moment. Then, he tried again. "You, uh…you want to talk about it?"
Tony was almost certain she'd laugh in his face. Why the hell would she confide in him?
But he was wrong.
Penny dropped her eyes, shifting a little uncomfortably on her stool. "My…um…my girlfriend. MJ. Michelle. She…we had…we had this fight. Last night. I went patrolling and…and I got distracted and caught up and…I stood her up. I didn't mean to. But…it was an hour after I was supposed to meet her and my phone died and…" Penny shrugged. "This morning, she told me she didn't think it was going to work out."
Another tear ran down her cheek and she wiped it away, looking up at him like he might have the answers she was searching for. Like he might somehow know the secret to being a superhero and being a person and keeping it all in balance…as though his whole life wasn't devoted to contingency plan after contingency plan as he desperately tried to keep his own life together while also preparing for the worst possible case scenario.
She didn't ask, though. She didn't want advice. Because advice wouldn't help. So he gave her the only thing he had.
"Sometimes…all of this…being a superhero and…and having people look to you to keep them safe…sometimes, it all feels worth it." He nodded to himself. "Sometimes, it's great. Hell, kid, sometimes it's fun. But sometimes…sometimes it really fucking sucks."
She choked on a laugh, closing her eyes and, to his surprise, leaning her head on his shoulder. After a moment, he patted her on the back, leaning his head to rest on hers.
"I'm sorry, kid. Really. I am."
"Thanks, Mr. Stark."