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When Tony Stark gets a call from May Parker, it’s usually to ask about her nephew’s wellbeing. With her often working late shifts at the hospital, quite frequently she feels guilty about not spending enough time with him. Luckily for her, Tony effortlessly fills that void.
So when he’s greeted with frantic shouting and curses, something in the back of his mind tells him something might be up.
“May!” He starts welcomingly.
“Where the fuck is my kid, Stark?”
Tony freezes. “What?”
“Where is Peter? Don’t play with me!” She insists.
Tony quickly puts down his mug on his glass coffee table and stands up to better focus on the arising situation. “Woah, woah, woah, May, what are you talking about?” He asks.
A shaky breath is heard through the other end of the call. “I’m talking about my nephew who has been absent for the past four hours!”
Tony almost splutters. Why does that mean he has Peter?
“May, why would I have Peter? It’s not Lab Day nor is it the weekend.” He tries to reason with her.
“His suit is missing, Tony. I know he’s with you.” She spits out, “You have no right.”
That sends an alarm off in Tony’s head. His suit? Missing? He must be patrolling. Surely, he’s just patrolling, right? Besides his concern slowly clouding his thinking, Tony is still frustrated by the fact that May thinks he would kidnap Peter.
“May, Peter is not with me, I promise you.” He speaks slowly, “Are you sure he isn’t on patrol?”
He’s more so asking for his own benefit. It doesn’t make any sense why Peter would be in his suit other than for patrol?
“He always leaves a note.”
Silence fills the line.
“So, there’s no note?”
“No, Tony, there’s no fucking note!”
Tony winces at the volume and holds the phone away from his ear. When he thinks the outburst is over, he slowly brings it back to where it once was.
“Okay, okay,” he attempts to calm her, “May, I don’t have Peter. But if he’s in his suit that means I can track him.”
Before May can respond, Tony drops the phone down to his side to speak.
“FRIDAY, where’s Peter?” He orders.
He rolls his eyes at May’s muffled yelling through the phone. He keeps the phone at a safe distance.
“Peter’s suit is located at 28th Lexington Avenue.” FRIDAY answers.
Tony taps his arc reactor and vibranium and nanotech begin to cover his entire body, with the helmet coming last. “Send a route, FRI.”
“On it, Boss.”
Wasting no time, he makes his way over to the balcony and blasts into the sky once the opening is there.
“You hear that, May? I’m getting him now.” He says, letting a bit of sass peak through.
He can hear May sigh.
“Jesus, Tony, what the hell is he doing all the way in Lexington?
He shakes his head.
“I’m gonna find out. You wanna stay on the line?”
“No, no, just– bring him home.”
“Roger that.” He smiles, although she can’t see it, and promptly ends the call.
May was right. Lexington was a bit of a trip. Why was Peter all the way out here? He usually stays around their general area when on patrol. It was May who came up with that rule and he never breaks the rules. Why now?
Before Tony could even spot the sign, he spots the bright red and blue vigilante on the rooftop of an apartment building. And he wasn’t alone.
Right. Now he was angry. He fires up his blasters and speeds down to his whereabouts. How many times did he have to tell the kid not to wear his suit when he’s not Spiderman-ing?
As Tony got closer, he could vaguely make out the appearance of the person laying beside him. It was a girl with brown curly hair. She wore all black and was huddled into Peter’s side, pointing at the stars above them.
And Peter, wearing some cargo jacket he’d never seen before, was laughing and pointing with her!
Tony’s blood boiled. If the kid was going to treat the suit like a getaway card then he’d have to consider confiscating it again.
Nearing his landing, he could see the girl take notice of the sound of the blasters and slowly sit up and shake Peter’s shoulder, pointing to the sky, but this time not at the stars. He swiftly lands behind them and walks out of his suit with a wooden stern expression on his face. He watches as the two teenagers scramble to their feet and dust off their clothes. He also watches as Peter pulls her closer and whispers something in her ear, to which she nods and sheepishly walks past to reach the ladder back inside.
Now that she was gone;
“What the hell were you thinking?” Tony starts.
Peter drags his hands down his face and drops his head low, shaking it. If it wasn’t under these circumstances, Tony wouldn’t have hesitated to kneel beneath him and ask him what was wrong.
“No words? That’s okay, you can save them for Aunt May.” Without warning, Tony steps back into the suit and speeds into the sky, snatching Peter on the way.
The whole way home, there wasn’t a peep out of the teen. Tony had planned to scold him the entire time but he was more than confident May’d have enough fight in her for the both of them. Besides, they don’t know what really happened yet. He didn’t want to risk being angered by something worrisome.
Approaching their apartment’s balcony, Tony slows down and rather forcefully lets Peter onto the ground. He tries not to wince as he watches him groan and stumble. Without further ado, Tony slides open the back door and catches sight of May, who is in the kitchen and rubbing her temples.
“Found him.” Tony announces.
The voice catches May off guard and she whips her head to look at the culprit. You can almost see the relief on her face when her eyes land on Peter, though it’s quickly replaced with fury.
“Where the hell have you been?” She stomps over.
Tony steps out the way and takes a seat on their couch. Not his home, not his place. He leans forward and intertwines his fingers together, attentively placing his chin to rest. As May yells, he focuses on Peter and the way his eyes flick lazily from one focal point to another. It causes him to raise an eyebrow. Peter continues to shrink in on himself and tighten his arms around his stomach, clenching his eyes shut as if he’s in some type of pain.
Tony has to remind himself, again, that it’s not his place. But watching the boy supposedly suffer like that is silently killing him inside. He decides to listen to what May is saying instead.
“Do you have any idea how worried I’ve been? I called three police stations,” She barks, putting the emphasis on ‘three’, “Three!”
Christ . Tony thinks. If he had known that he wouldn’t have been so quick to judge her stress on the situation.
“I called school to see if you stayed behind for some reason!” She keeps going, her voice breaking a little, “I called Ned!”
And then me. He smirks. But wait, when is Ned not included in Peter’s Spiderman escapades?
His eyebrow stays raised.
“You can’t just leave without giving me a heads up!” She says, “Not after– Not after Ben.” May quiets down and slowly takes a seat next to Tony, covering her nose and mouth.
Suddenly, the atmosphere in the room had shifted from heated to desolate.
After a few deep breaths, May looks back up at Peter and finally studies his face (as opposed to just yelling at it). She shakes her head in disappointment with her eyebrows knitted and mouth slightly agape. The look on her face reads betrayal.
Peter, on the other hand, hadn’t gathered a single word the woman had spoken. He sways left and right, trying to keep his balance and blinks harshly at them both. Tony faintly squints his eyes in hopes of figuring out what was up with the boy. He hadn’t been his normal self since he’d found him. And then it hit him.
And then it hit May, not five seconds after.
“Are you high?” She asks in an interrogating tone.
Tony unravels his pose and leans back in disbelief. It all made sense now; the dizziness, the body language, the distinct exhausted aspect of his face. He was absolutely fucking baked.
Now it was Tony’s turn to shake his head. “Jesus Christ, Peter.”
“W-What?” He stuttered.
May stands up and places her hands on her hips. “Are you high?” She repeats with more grill.
The billionaire waits for his answer. The suspense between Peter staring and responding is cruel. May glares into his eyes.
“Sorry?” He finally manages. He tilts his head slightly and sticks his chin out further so as to say ‘I didn’t quite catch that.’
which isn’t helping his case.
“Oh my god,” May throws her hands in the air loosely and lets them hit her thighs as she turns around and walks away.
“No, no, I’m not, May,” Peter tries, ultimately catching on to what she was asking.
He follows her back into the kitchen and attempts to reason with her. And from the living room, Tony’s world is being turned upside down. Peter? Peter Parker? Peter who gets straight A’s? Peter who went dumpster diving for clothes? Peter who asks for Lego each Christmas? Well, he sure as hell won’t be getting any this year.
He just can’t wrap his head around it. Peter who’d tried to get out of going to Germany by saying he had homework to do? There’s no way this kid had been doing weed! Tony used to make bets! That’s how confident he’d been in Peter’s good behaviour!
He can’t imagine it. He can’t imagine that face, that precious, innocent face, being handed a joint and taking it.
“Look in a mirror, Peter! Your pupils are ginormous!” He hears from the kitchen.
At that, he sits up and gets off the sofa, making his way to join them. When he’s close enough, he grabs Peter’s chin and forces him to look at him. He examines his eyes and stands corrected. May was right.
“Kid..” He whispers.
As he looks into his eyes, he can’t see anything but the boy he cherishes. The boy he adores. The one who had swung into his life and made his mark. The one who had changed him for the better.
May puts her hands up in surrender, “I can’t deal with this right now. Peter, go pack. You’re going to Tony’s.”
“What?” The two boys say in unison.
“You heard me. Go pack.” She insists.
Tony splutters, “Wh- Don’t make him my problem!”
“Tony, please,” She begs, “I can’t take this right now. Just, please. I’ll come deal with him tomorrow.”
He pauses his protests and stares at her for a moment. He really doesn’t wanna deal with the kid right now. He’d gotten the hang of teenagers, but intoxicated teenagers are a whole new level he doesn’t think he can pass.
But the look on May’s face makes him uninterested in declining her request.
So he turns to Peter, who is still glued on the spot.
“Go pack.”
He’d never seen someone run so fast.
The ride back to the tower was as painfully awkward as the ride to the apartment. Since he used his suit to retrieve Peter, there was no car to get back. So here he was, again.
The kid felt so limp in his arms, it scared him. He was afraid of his bag being let go of mid-flight, but every time he checked to see if Peter was still awake, he was met with an idle ‘mhm.’, so he took his chances.
“Open the doors, FRI.”
Eventually, they make it. Tony drops him on the ground equally as hard as before and doesn’t wait for him as he walks inside.
“You don’t have to drop me that hard.” Peter speaks.
“And you don’t have to do drugs.”
Peter leans on the doorframe for support, “‘S barely a drug,” He mumbles.
Tony turns to him, “Sorry, what was that?”
The boy avoids eye contact and looks down at his hands, starting to fiddle with them.
Tony lets his steel expression falter. He steps closer to him and sighs. Peter looks up, his eyes brown and wide, and Tony almost forgets why he’s even mad in the first place.
He shoves a hand in the boy’s curls and ruffles them around a bit before pushing his head in the direction of the couch, saying, “Go sit.”
He himself makes his way into the kitchen and grabs a fresh glass from out of the cupboard, gingerly holding it under the tap as water trickles into it. FUCK . He didn’t know what to do. Since when did he sign up for this? He recalls the day he’d met Peter Parker, so skittish and timid. That’s when he knew things were about to change.
He recalls the way he hesitantly placed his hand on his shoulder, and the way Peter didn’t flinch, but flushed. And in Germany, each time Tony had caught him mid-air or helped him back up after a particularly heavy hit, the way his eyes gleamed at the man in admiration and pride. That’s when he knew Peter was something else.
Now, he stares at the boy, completely detached from reality, sinking into his couch, and wonders; Is this somehow my fault?
And he knew back then, Peter wasn’t someone he was going to be able to get rid of easily. But now he knows he’d sooner cut off his right arm before letting him go.
That newfound correlation bubbles inside him, making his skin go cold. The numbness almost makes him forget he’s holding a glass.
“Shit,” He mutters, quickly realising that it’s overflowing and promptly turns off the tap.
He tips out the extra water and wipes the glass relatively dry. He has to hold in a sigh while walking over to Peter, setting the glass on the table in front of him.
“Drink.” He tells him.
He watches Peter sluggishly bring his gaze to him and then to the water. He struggles to even lift the glass himself and Tony has to rest his hands atop of the teen’s and warily guide the object to his lips.
He takes three gulps before pulling back and letting Tony set it back on the table. But before the man can retreat his hands back to his lap, Peter anxiously grabs hold of them.
He pulls Tony closer so he can rest his forehead on his shoulder, letting out an exasperated breath.
Tony doesn’t move, afraid that if he does it’ll trigger some kind of nervous breakdown. He knows that Peter feels terrible, but what he can’t figure out is if it’s because he disappointed May or if his head is just spinning too much to comprehend (he’s also never this touchy).
“Who was that girl?” He asks.
Regardless of the fact, he still needs to face some type of consequence. And it seems May has left Tony in charge of that decision. Damnit, she knows he gets soft when Peter acts like this. How could he possibly muster up a punishment for this precious boy?
His frantic thinking allows Peter to leave the question graciously unanswered,
“Alright, that’s enough,” He says, gently lifting Peter off him and holding him steady by the shoulders, “We need to talk.”
Peter opens his heavy eyes back up again and only stares.
“I know you probably won’t remember any of this tomorrow, but…” He trails off, “I need to know why you did it.”
Peter shakes his head, “Did what?”
“Don’t do that, Pete.”
Peter half-snickers, “I’m just kidding.”
Something fury-like curses through his veins. “Well, don’t kid!” He exclaims, “This isn’t a joke! What you’ve done is illegal and I have no idea why you would’ve–”
“Oh, like you’ve never broken the law,” Peter tests.
Tony spots mid sentence and gapes at him. ‘Are you serious?’ His face radiates.
“I just–” He starts again. “I want to know why.”
This time, Peter doesn’t speak. Instead, he avoids Tony’s eyes and tries to swallow the lump in his throat. He wishes it was May scolding him. She was easier to predict.
Maybe it was because he cared about Tony’s approval more. Maybe because he felt like he’d worked for their relationship and didn’t want that bond breaking so easily. Or maybe he was just scared, scared that Tony would hate him.
He knows if he said that out loud, the man would be the first to prove him wrong.
So he opts for a more subtle approach, “There is no why.”
Tony almost sighs again. This shouldn’t be this hard.
“Wh- So you just rolled a couple of blunts and off you went?” He asks, “Is that it?”
“No,” Peter screws his eyes shut, “I’m saying that it isn’t something you need to worry about.”
“But that’s all I do, Peter!” Tony shouts again, standing up, “All I do is worry! Constantly, about you! ”
The volume raise causes Peter to shoot his eyes right back open. He watches the man’s chest rise and fall heavily, a faint feeling of guilt tingling in his chest.
“Is that why you came?”
Tony pinches the bridge of his nose, “I came because your aunt called me with half her marbles lost,”
The teen crosses his arms and leans back into the couch, “So, it was an obligation.”
Tony is taken back. “What?” He pauses, “No– She called me because she knows I care. She knows I know how to find you.”
It might’ve been a lie but the point still stands.
Peter continues to stare, trying not to let a twinge of delight show when he hears that.
“Do you know why I know how to find you?” Tony kneels down, “Because I track your suit. Because I want to be in your corner if you need me.”
The boy shakes his head, his mouth slightly quivering.
Tony nods, “Because I want you to be safe out there, and I want to know if anything happens to you.”
Peter pulls his knees up to his chin and buries his face in his arms. “No, no, you’re–”
“Lying?” Tony finishes for him. He leans back a bit and his face contorts into that of something hurt, “Why do you always think that?”
Peter doesn’t respond, but his shoulders begin to shake.
“Peter,” Tony says more gently, “Please,” and tries to pry his arms off of each other and free his head.
And when you’re high there’s not much control over your actions, so Peter lets him. When his face is revealed, Tony sees the faint stain of a tear on his cheek and the next ones brewing quickly in his eyes, making him just that more unbearable to look at.
Tony cups Peter’s face with one hand and brushes his thumb over his wet cheek
Tony tries to smile, but it ends up pressing his mouth into a thin line. “I need you to tell me where you got it from.”
Peter is quick to shake his head, “I’m not gonna do it again,” He promises, “I just felt–”
He stops. Tony thinks he’s trying to gather the words.
Peter covers his mouth and gags, and Tony realises he’s gathering something else in his mouth.
“Fuck.” He speeds back into the kitchen and grabs the bin from under the sink, shoving it in Peter’s face when he reaches the floor again.
As soon as it’s placed, Peter throws up the remainder of his stomach. He doesn’t feel a hand on his back.
He doesn’t let it bother him
.
“Fuck, Peter.”
Peter coughs and spits into the bin, ensuring that every last bit of vomit is out, but there’s no telling if it’ll happen again.
Tony keeps the bin nearby just in case.
“You’re so grounded.” Tony adds tiredly.
Peter brings his head out of the bin and glares at him. “You’re not my dad.” He bites.
Tony doesn’t know what happened, but something in him switched.
“You’re right. I'm not.” He agrees harshly, “Your dad is dead and I’m stuck here picking up the pieces.”
Hurt flashes on Peter’s face but it’s quickly replaced with anger. There have only been two times Tony had seen Peter truly angry.
The first instance was directed at Captain America back in Germany. Whenever Peter got close enough, he would jump on Steve and curse him out until he was pulled off by someone on their team. Tony later found out that Peter felt more enraged at Steve’s actions than Tony himself. He had said he didn’t like how Steve looked at him. Tony didn’t sleep that night.
The second was at school last year. A kid at Peter’s school, Flash, had been spreading rumours about them being in a sexual relationship, rather than an intern-mentor one. Tony hadn’t appreciated the fact that the kid doubted Peter’s academic qualification, but Peter was more focused on the way Flash made Tony out to be a predator.
Both times, it had been Tony at the heart of Peter’s protectiveness. Now, Tony wasn’t so sure he had a place there anymore.
“What?” Peter says slowly.
Tony gulped, “You heard me. Do you think this is what he wanted for you?” he asks, “To get high off your ass every night?”
“Fuck you, it was just this once!”
“You think he sacrificed everything for this?” Tony exclaims.
“Well maybe you shoulda’ trained me harder!” Peter fights back.
Tony scoffs, “I hardly want you to break.”
Peter stands up, balls his hands into tight fists and yells, “I’m not weak!”
It quiets the room. Tony stares, confused.
“I’m not weak,” He pants, sitting back down again.
He fears he’s crossed a line.
Tony sits back down with him. “Kid,” He starts, but it doesn’t have the effect he wants it to.
He feels his heart break into two as he sees another tear fall from the blessed, winsome face that is Peter Benjamin Parker.
He needs him to know he loves him. But how do you convey that without actually saying it?
“Bambino,” He starts again, this time with more tenderness in his tone, “Look at me, please.”
Peter does as he’s told, not having the energy to disobey anymore. Even if he did, that nickname circles too much warmth in his chest. He prays the fondness in his voice is real.
“I hate fighting with you,” Peter whispers.
“Me too, kiddo,” Tony wetly laughs, “Me too.”
He brings his hands up to the teen’s face and holds it with all the delicacy in the world. He realises now, intoxicated teenagers may be a different breed, but intoxicated Peter was the same. Just with a little more sentiment.
And Tony could work with sentiment. “Peter–”
Peter speaks, “I’m just not as strong as you guys!”
The man is caught off guard, but gives him the space to continue.
“I can’t kill aliens, I can’t— I can’t do magic,” He rambles, “I don’t have a mystical hammer to carry around. I don't– I don’t do anything, Mr. Stark!”
Tony listens to what he’s saying, absolutely dumbfounded. He feels a pool of regret swirl in the pit of his stomach.
“Last week an old lady was hospitalised because of me!” He cries, “And a woman was mugged and shot in broad daylight!”
Tony attempts to comfort him, “Kid, you know you can’t save everyo–”
“She bled out right in front of me!”
He didn’t know what to say. He knew this job had its negatives. Hell, he’s had his fair share, everyone knows that. But Peter was so young, so motivated. He didn’t deserve to be under this pressure. Even so, he was never going to get out of this unscathed.
“And there was this family and this car and–”
Tony took his wrists and held them tight.
“I’m not a good person, M’st’r Stark.”
Tears are flowing at rapid paces and each one that falls sends electrical shocks through Tony’s body, begging him to do something. Anything.
“MJ said that doing, y'know, would help,” He explains, “I was desperate so I tried it.”
Tony was confused. “Help what?” He asks, “Make you a good person?”
Peter shakes his head, “Help me stop thinking about it.”
He could swear his lungs stopped working. Yet, he chokes out a response.
“Did it?” He questions.
Peter shakes his head again, this time lip and body shaking with it too.
Tony half-gasps as Peter crumbles into tears, swiftly leaning forward and catching the boy in his arms as he tips toward him. He holds the sobbing teen close to him, dragging his hands up and down his back, tangling in his hair, anything to distract him from the audible daggers.
He whispers sweet nothings into the boy’s ear, trying to still the heartache that racks his whole frame. He tells him it’s okay. He tells him he is fine. He tells him to let it all out. He wants to tell him he’ll hold his sorrow to the light, and bring it back to him as a bundle of bliss. He wants to tell him he’ll protect him, no matter what. Not even if he’s bad.
“Pete, listen to me, you are the best person I know.” He declares, “I’ve done a lot of things I’m not proud of, but choosing you was the greatest decision I ever made.”
Peter’s sobs don’t stop, but they stabilise.
“You are so brave,” He adds, “Sometimes a little too brave for my liking.”
He hears Peter’s moisty chuckle.
“I am so proud of you,” He vocalises, “In so many ways.”
He pulls Peter’s head off of his shoulder and cradles his face fondly, his endearing eyes now vaguely returning to their original, authentic state.
“You are not a bad person, Peter.” Tony utters.
Peter sniffles, holding into another sob. Tony wants to think it’s a happy one, but considering the circumstances, the chances are slim.
He breathes, “Do you hear me?”
Peter nods.
Tony lets out a shaky breath he didn’t know he was holding and pulls the boy back into his embrace, leaving a long, loving kiss in his hair.
He thinks back to 2012, the Stark Expo, and little Peter standing directly in danger’s line of sight. The way he’d saved him, then just left him there. It’s a miracle the boy found his way back to him. Tony never would’ve guessed.
It’s also a miracle the boy had saved him too. Not from villainous robots, but from himself. A few years ago, Tony would’ve contentedly given up the second things got too hard. But now he has Peter. Now he has reason. Tony never would’ve guessed that either.
“I’m sorry for what I said.”
He feels Peter’s cries steadily come to somewhat of a halt, but his arms are still wrapped around him desperately and his hands clinging to his jacket. His breaths become full and hopeless, leaving a sour, wretched taste in Tony’s mouth.
“But, you’re still grounded.”
Peter wetly laughs and forces himself out of the hug to wipe his face and rid it of the stickiness coating it. A few tears still fall, but Tony would be lying if he said it wasn’t the same for him.
Peter pulls his sleeves over his fingers and warily swallows his saliva. “Is Aunt May mad?” he asks.
This sweet boy . “I think she’s worried mostly.” He notes, “She loves you. She just wants you safe.”
Peter nods understandingly, moving his gaze to the floor. After a moment of silence, he speaks again.
“What about you?” He asks.
“What about me? Am I mad?” Tony repeats questioningly, then replying almost instantly, “No. Shocked, maybe, but never mad.”
Peter makes a small sound of annoyance. “No.. Do you love me?”
The question almost knocks the wind out of the man. Does he love Peter? Shouldn’t it be obvious? He’s thought about saying it before, but everytime he tries his throat closes up and he ends up choking out some corny joke. But he wants him to know, he does.
Of course I love you. Tony pretends to think about it. “..I want you safe.”
The smile on Peter lightens up his entire face. You can practically see the blood rushing to it. He tilts his head just enough to lean it on the couch and responds.
“I want you safe too, Mr. Stark.”
There's mutual knowing between the two. Tony smirks back and pats his knee, discreetly using it to push himself onto his feet. “Alright, come on,” He says, “Past your bedtime, spider baby.”
Peter whines, reluctantly standing up with him. “I don’t have a bedtime.” He drags out the ‘e’.
Tony barks out a laugh, “Tonight you do, greenie.”
The teen huffs at the name and starts walking in the direction of his room. Tony watches him drag his feet and yawn as he turns the corner into the hallway. He can’t help but snort. “G’night, Pete!” He yells out.
A faint ‘goodnight’ is heard in response.
This kid
. Tony thinks. He can’t wait for the day he can sign co-parenting papers.