Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The first think Peter is aware of when he wakes up is that the fire alarm is blaring. The second thing Peter is aware of is the fact that the building is on fire. It takes less than a second for him to get out of bed, after that.

His first fully fledged thought is of May. He shouts her name instinctively, not waiting for a response before barging into her room, grabbing her and hurrying down the stairs.
“It’s alright May, you’re safe now.” He says more than once as he heaves her down the fire escape, aware but not acknowledging the fact she’s yet to regain consciousness.

The moment they’re safely on the ground, Peter looks up to assess the damage, lying may gently on the ground. He screams her name once, twice, finding instant relief when he feels a pulse – weak, but there. He shouts her name again, rubs her sternum in any attempt to rouse her and tyring his best not to think too much as he does so. When there’s still no reaction, he stands, rapidly pulls his phone from his pocket and dials 9-1-1. Running a hand through his hair and ignoring the way it shakes, he gives a name, address and May’s condition.

He’s hardly aware of the conversation and can’t quite hear what the dispatcher says on the other side of the line. So caught up is he the pounding of his own chest. So, he doesn’t hear the click of the phone, though a quick glance away from May confirms the line’s inactivity.

“Come on May, you’re okay” Peter says quietly, completely unsure how to proceed as he waits. “We can get new stuff,” he continues, hoping she can hear him. Hoping somehow his voice will bring some semblance of comfort. “Nothing in that apartment is irreplaceable.” His voice, wet and hoarse, struggles to continue, but he does none-the-less. “Seriously, the only thing I can’t replace is you. I love you, May.” Her lack of reaction alarms Peter even more – even in spite of not expecting one – but he stays stoic by her side, brought away only by a paramedic’s gentle guidance.

He can’t quite help himself, looking over his shoulder to see May, see the way the paramedic’s frantically move around her – his view to obscured to properly make out her condition. Or whether it’s changed.

As is protocol, the paramedic softly introduces himself through Peter’s panic.
“I’m Mike. Alright if I make sure you’re okay?” He asks, leaving Peter room only to nod, distracted still at the scene taking place behind him. He’s so caught up in doing so he doesn’t even realise that the man is checking his heart until the cold metal causes him to flinch.

“Is she, um.” He hesitates, unsure of whether he should be asking. Or whether he wants to know. “Is she going to be okay?” He says eventually, and the man smiles, small, but genuine.
“We’re doing everything we can, and she seems generally healthy,” Mike says, “of course smoke inhalation and burns are tricky things, and the doctors will be able to make a better determination of her condition.” He finishes and Peter nods again, unable to do anything else through his haze. Thankfully, Mike hasn’t finished, managing in his gentle tone to at least some what calm Peter’s nerves, if only for a second.

“You seem to be in good health. Is there anyone you can call to pick you up from the hospital, son?” He asks. “Given you’re a minor, you’ll need someone to look after you while your aunts in the hospital.”
Peter, after coming up short for an embarrassingly long second, thinks of Tony.

It’s well past 1 in the morning when Tony finally starts thinking about going to bed. He’d been trying to get better, trying to manage a sleep routine that Pepper couldn’t argue with. He had already been willing to accept this night as a failure, so when the phone starts ringing his first thought is that it’s her, awake and aware he has not yet joined her.

So, when FRIDAY announces that its Peter ringing, his instinct is to panic.
“What’s wrong?” He says, by way of hello.

“Remember when you told me not to wake you up unless the building was on fire?”
“The building is on fire?” Tony yells back, any sign of dreariness now replaced with concern.

“Well, not technically, just the apartment” Peter follows up unhelpfully and Tony is left trying to read the silence between his quivering voice. “Is everyone okay?” He prompts when he realises Peter is waiting for him to ask.

“Not exactly. They’re um, taking May to hospital. You know, the paramedics. Which is actually why I’m ringing. See I’m a minor – but you know that – anyway I need someone to come and get me and look after me. Not that I need looking after or anything. Or expect you to look after me. We’re really not that close. You know what, never mind.” The kid finishes lamely, and Tony would smile at the kid’s anxiety if it weren’t causing his own heart rate to increase.

“Which hospital,” he says, even as a sense of dread that he’s in way over his head settles deep in his chest. “Presbyterian” Peter says as Tony looks around the lab trying to locate his wallet. And then, “thank you, Mr Stark.” He goes to rebut this, insist the boy call him Tony but the phone cuts to static and he realises there are probably more pressing things on his mind.

When he looks under the table and his wallet isn't there, frustration gets the best of him “Fuck me,” he mutters, practically running up the stairs and into his room, hoping its sitting on the bedside table.

He tries to be quiet so as not to wake Pepper, but between his growing anxiety, his trying to be quick, and the fact that he really hasn’t had enough sleep in the past 24 hours, he fails miserably.

“Tones? What’s going on?” He hears from the other side of the bed, and he tries his best to condense the limited information he was given into a sentence. “Fire at the kids place, getting him from the hospital, can’t find my wallet.” He says, and Pepper sits up no sign of sleep left in her voice.

“Wallets on the kitchen table.” Pepper says, following up with not unreasonable questions about what exactly had happened. But he must be reaching the end of his tether because he shouts in response, regret instantly washing over him.

“I’m sorry I just, I don’t know if I can look after a kid, Pep. You know, like an actual kid.” She smiles, and using what he still believes to be magic, calms him with a simple kiss. “You boys get something to eat on your way back, I’ll fix up the guest room.” And, as he’s nearly out the door, she adds, “it’ll be okay, Tony. Now go!”

He smiles back at her, love clouding his mind for just a second before leaving the room. Deciding not to wake Happy, or drag him into this mess, he gets in his least flashy car and starts to drive in complete silence.

As soon as they arrive at the hospital, May is whisked away to be tested, leaving Peter alone as he waits for Mr Stark. How he should fill this time, he has no idea. Yet, after being left for only a second he sees a lady walking towards, it seems, him.

“Mr Parker,” she says, looking over her clipboard for the first time since he noticed her.
“Peter,” he responds, more out of habit then anything.
“Of course, Peter.” She looks down again, discomfort clear even to him. “So, it says here that May is your guardian.” She pauses again and Peter wonders how long she’s been doing this job to still struggle with awkward conversations. “Is there anyone else that could look after you, or should I start the paperwork to put you temporarily in a group home?”

“No!” Peter says, louder than intended, and then, “My uh, the person I called should be here soon.” As if to prove this, Peter hears Mr Stark asking after him at the front desk, though realises this is only because of his enhanced hearing. Regardless, the women continues.

“And they understand they’d be taking over temporary guardianship of you, legally.”
“Yes,” Peter lies, guilt at doing so subsiding to desperation. Plus, with Mr Stark fast approaching, it’s not like he’s just going to leave him here. Peter can tell the moment he enters the room, as Belinda – he thinks she said her name was – visibly pales.

“You uh, you must be Mr Parker’s, sorry, Peter’s guardian.” Tony nods, suave as ever and holds out his hand for her to shake. “Call me Tony” he says casually, and Belinda immediately starts going over the paperwork. Peter tries to listen but is distracted by the noise ricocheting in the hospital halls.

He watches Mr Stark sign something, though he can only guess at what, and then Belinda walks away, leaving him alone with the man for the firs time since he arrived.
“So, how’s your aunt, kid?” Tony asks in the silence, trying desperately to put on a brave face for the boy.

“They uh, took her for some tests, said she wouldn’t wake up for at least a couple of hours. Said I should try and get some sleep, I guess.” Tony processes this, nodding, before taking the advice Pepper had given him barely an hour before.

“Well how about we go get some food, and then head back to the tower.” He suggests, looking down at his hands. “Oh, I brought a banana,” he adds – having grabbed it of the kitchen bench – causing the kid to smile for the first time since he arrived.
“You brought me a- thank you, Mr Stark.” Peter says, graciously accepting and following him to the car, which Tony beings to drive to a diner he’d frequented in college, which he knows to be open all night.

When they pull up, Tony jumps out of the car and gestures for Peter to follow, holding the door open for Peter.

“Tony!” Melissa calls out the second he steps into the store which had not changed in nearly 3 decades. Over the years she had become somewhat of a mother figure to him, often finding him in various states of hangover or high. Or at his lowest points, more depressed than he’d like to admit.

“Long time no see,” he calls back, sitting at a booth in the empty restaurant as her eyes settle on Peter. “Who’s this?” She queries with a gentle tone, and Tony hesitates for a moment. “This is Peter, I’m looking after him for a while, his aunt is, out of town.” He says, lying only to save Peter from any complicated explanation.

“Why don’t you have a look at the menu while I run to the bathroom really quick,” Tony says, allowing Peter a moment to himself – and reliving himself which, if he’s honest, he’s needed to do since he left the tower.

Once alone, Tony makes a mental list of things he needs to do in the morning to look after the kid. After some thought, he comes up with three main priorities. First, make the kid as comfortable as possible. Second, assess the damage to Peter and May’s apartment, and third, see May at the hospital.

Having a solid plan helps Tony’s anxiety to settle to its baseline from before Peter’s call, and he feels as though he can do this. Maybe. Yet, with the adrenaline fading, his lack of sleep is starting to catch up with him and he’s astounded by just how quickly exhaustion starts to set in.

“So, kid, what do you want to eat?” He asks, returning to Peter.
“I’m fine, Mr Stark” is Peter’s response, and Tony can’t help but protest.
“I can hear your stomach growling form over here, Spidey. Now do you want the waffles or the eggs.”
“Waffles, please.” The boy mumbles and Tony repeats this to Melissa, adding an encouragement to “keep the coffee coming, please!” With that out of the way, Tony tries to keep the mood light.

“So, what’re your plans for winter break?” He asks, enjoying the way the kids face lights up at the question. But it falls when realisation hits almost as quickly. “may and I were going to do some stuff together, she had a couple of days off, but I guess now our plans have changed.”

Tony feels so bad for the kid. But unsure what he could say to make him feel better, he’s glad when the arrival of coffee and waffles provide a simple change of conversation.

“So, I was thinking we could work on the Spidey suit. Might even light you have a look at a new version of Mr Iron Man himself, if you want.” Tony says in a ploy to brighten the kid’s mood.

“That’d be awesome Mr Stark!” He starts excitement clear and abundant. And then, “I mean you don’t have to babysit me or anything, I have, you know, homework and stuff.” He finishes weakly and Tony smiles.

“First, I want to work with you kid, plus, you can’t just do homework for the next two weeks.”
“I guess not.” Peter says, stuffing his face with waffles as Tony sips his coffee. “And, probably should be getting some proper internship hours in if you know what I mean.” Peter nods, mouth still full and Tony is grateful to notice that the anxiety he had felt not an hour earlier was all but gone.

When they finish, Tony pays the bill and Peter thanks him profusely. “Seriously, kid, don’t worry about it.” He says genuinely and the two leave in amicable silence. Tony’s only been driving for 10 minutes when he hears the kid snoring softly beside him. He turns down the radio to allow the kid to get some much needed rest.

As the arrive back at the tower, Tony has no choice but to wake the boy, who rises without complaint. Moving silently into the elevator and up to the penthouse, Tony watches as Peter sways on his feet.

“Here, kid, there’s clean PJs on the vanity, and clothes for the morning. Now get some sleep.” Tony says gratefulness for Pepper his only thought as he closes the door to give the boy some privacy.

In an attempt to head his own advice, Tony returns to his room, collapsing into the bed Pepper was once again asleep in. He falls asleep almost instantly, which hadn’t happened in nearly as long as he could remember.

Chapter Text

When Peter drags himself, still exhausted, out of bed in the morning he is surprised to see not Tony but Pepper standing in the kitchen, quietly brewing a cup of coffee. Not particularly wanting to be alone with the woman who he’d only met – properly – once, he turns back to the guest room but is stopped by her calm voice beckoning for him to stay.

“Morning, Peter. Would you like a cup of coffee?” She asks and he nearly laughs at just how serene her voice is. Instead, he nods politely, sitting at the island bench as she pours a mug and places it in front of him.

“I thought you might be awake early, and I wanted to be up if you were.” She says by way of explanation, “though I tend to sleep later when my schedule allows it.” Laughing, she adds “which is never.” This causes Peter himself to laugh, which is how Tony finds the two.

“What’s so funny?” He asks, though he is pleased rather than irritated at their lack of a response. “Okay, well I thought we could have some breakfast and then head back over to the hospital?” When Peter nods, he continues. “Why don’t you go change into the clothes on the dresser while I get started on some eggs?” He instructs, and Peter duly complies.

“You seem to be getting on well with him,” Pepper comments the moment Peter leaves the room. “Well, it’s only been 12 hours. And he’s a good kid, plus it’s not like we’ve never spent time together, what with the lab and Spiderman.” Tony responds, smiling unconsciously. “Well, I think he’s good for you.” She adds, and before Tony can interrogate her on what exactly she means, the kid comes wandering back into the room.

The old button up Tony had grabbed for him extends well beyond his fingertips, and the pants he’d thought would fit have been rolled at the bottom, held up precariously by the belt Tony had left just in case but that turned out to be more than necessary.

“So that doesn’t work.” He laughs as the boy stands awkwardly, and Peter shakes his head, hair brushing in front of his eyes as his cheeks turn pink.

“Well, I guess we’re going clothes shopping after the hospital.” He suggests, and peter nods his consent. With nothing left to say, the two bid Pepper goodbye and set out on the now familiar path back to the hospital.

“So uh, Pete” Tony starts once he’s comfortably riding the highway. “I just want you to know that May, she might not be awake and alert just yet.”
“I know, Mr Stark” Peter dutifully responds, and Tony is happy the boy seems to be taking this in his stride. In as much is possible.

“And we might not be able to stay too long, she’ll probably need lots of rest and what not.” He continues.
“I know,” Peter says again this time louder. And then quietly “I’m not a baby.”
“I know that.” Tony says, finding frustration slowly rising. “I just don’t want you to have unrealistic expectations.”

Seemingly Peter’s own frustration is getting the best of him, as he responds. “I don’t okay, I’m Spiderman, I know how this stuff goes, I’m not an idiot.” Tony finds himself biting his tongue in an attempt to keep the conversation civil.

“Pete, I’m just trying to look after you.” “Well, I don’t need your help, stop babying me.” Peter responds quick, and after muttering a “fine,” under his breath the two settle into silence.

Tony for his part is shocked at the attitude and aggression coming from the boy. While he’d known he probably wouldn’t want to hear about May in such a negative light, he hadn’t expected such a hostile reaction.

Realizing saying anything else would only serve to make the conversation worse, Tony drives in silence, the only noise between them the radio playing some song he’s never heard.

By the time they arrive at the hospital, Peter’s head is starting to thump insistently and he’s not sure whether it’s from exhaustion or guilt, but he’d really like it to go away.

He perks up momentarily at the thought of seeing May, but Tony’s earlier reminder quickly foils his enthusiasm. Unsure how best to find her, but stubbornly refusing help, he starts towards the reception desk.

But Mr Stark beats him to the question. “We’re looking for May Parker, this here is her nephew.” He says naturally, and Peter is grateful even despite his reluctance to admit it. The two go through mindless administration papers, though Peter is distracted by the multitude of people sitting in the waiting room.

Brought out of his stupor by Mr Starks quiet call, the two begin to walk in what he assumes to be the direction of May’s room. “The nurse at the front there just took my information,” he says. “When we’re not here she’ll let me know if May’s condition changes any so we can stay informed. Sound good?

And Peter honestly does not mean to snap at him again, but he doesn’t quite know what’s wrong with him as he tries and fails to control his emotion. “Sure, whatever, how much further?” He asks. Thankfully, the man seems to take his aggression in his stride.

“This one here.” He offers helpfully and Peter feels his heart rate increase the second he looks at her. She looks worse than she had, somehow. Still unconscious she lies unmoving, covered in, from what he can tell, harsh and severe looking burns.

He hardly even knows where to look, feels his hands shaking but doesn’t give them enough energy to even try to stop them. “I,” he starts, but doesn’t know what he was going to say, or really, who he was talking to, se he stops.

“We don’t have to stay,” Tony says, pointedly looking anywhere but at May. “No, I” Peter says in response, but is stopped by what he assumes to be a doctor entering the room.

“You must be family” he says to Peter and Tony. “Yeah,” Peter manages through the growing lump in his throat. “Well, I can offer you an update on her condition.” He says, looking down at the clipboard and around at various machines.

“Your aunt’s condition is critical, but stable.” The doctor – John – starts. “She has third degree burns covering roughly 17% of her body, and first and second degree burns bring that number up to around 30%.”

“Okay,” Peter says to himself more than anyone else. “We currently have her in an induced coma, but if she remains stable, she should be awake in little more than 24 hours.” “Okay,” Peter says again, thankful more than he has ever been that this seems like good news.

“However,” Dr John continues, and his heart drops. “Burns of this caliber are significant, and she’ll likely require extensive treatment, though we’ll have an idea of exact timelines when she wakes up.”

Peter unsure what exactly do to or say, nods again. “In the meantime, you’re welcome to stay as long as you like.” He finishes and Peter bids him a quiet goodbye before returning his energy to May.

“We can stay as long as you want, kid.” He says into the now quiet room, and Peter mutters a quick thanks before moving closer to May. He says nothing, but watches as she lies completely still. He tries not to compare it to how he carried her unmoving form down the stairs. Tries not to think about her complete stillness even as the paramedics poked and prodded her.

After what could have been 5 minutes or closer to an hour – Peter really isn’t sure – he’s more than ready to leave the stifling room. “I’m uh, ready to go, if that’s okay” he says to Mr Stark, who simply stands and leads the way out of the room.

When Mr Stark puts the radio on the second the two climb into the car, Peter feels a harsh sting of regret at his earlier shortness wash over him.

“I’m sorry, you know, for being annoying before.” He says, fiddling with the nob that quiets the radio. “I just, I was so scared about seeing May and I didn’t really want to think that she obviously wasn’t okay.” He pauses, and Tony lets the two sit in silence. “I know you were just trying to help. I just; I don’t know. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, kid.” Tony says in response, grateful both for the apology and the insight into Peter’s headspace. “I know you’re pretty stressed out at the moment, and I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m not so good with the whole touchy feely shtick.” He says, deciding to meet honesty with honesty.

Peter laughs. “But hey, we’re both trying and that’s all we can really do, isn’t it kid?” He asks, turning the corner with ease. It’s at this point Peter looks out the window.
“Mr Stark, where are we going?”

“Kid, please call me Tony. And I thought we’d go past your apartment and see if there’s any clothes you could salvage. But if you don’t want to, we can just go shopping.” Tony offers and feels something akin to pride when Peter agrees to go back, though he’s not quite sure where the feeling comes from.

Choosing not to dwell on it – or any potential implications – however, Tony decides instead to make small talk with the kid.

“So, Pete, when do you go back to school?” He asks, unaware of how long break was. “Tuesday.” He responds quickly. “Why Tuesday? Why not, you know, Monday?” “Monday’s a staff day,” Peter explains and Tony smiles at the domesticity of the conversation.

“Well, we’re here.” Tony says, announcing the obvious as the two get out of the car and Peter starts towards the door, keys in hand. Standing slightly behind, he checks his phone for the first time since Peter called last night, finding two missed calls from Rhodey.

“Pete!” He calls out in front of him, “I gotta make a phone call, let me know when your ready to go.” Clicking the call back number on his StarkPhone, he adds “or if you need anything,” before heading back out the door.

“Rhodes, what’s going on?” He asks casually. “Nothing much,” the man responds, “I found your credit card, by the way.” He adds and Tony pats his pocket, not even having realised it was gone. “What’s new with you?” He asks Tony; despite having seen the man only a day prior. Then again, Rhodey always was more insightful than most.

“I kind of, have guardianship over a 15-year-old boy.” Tony says, ripping of the Band-Aid in a strategy he hopes will be most effective. “You WHAT?” he hears yelled back so loud he has to pull the phone from his face.

“Yeah,” he tries nonchalantly, “you remember Peter?” He asks, trying to summarise the last 16 hours into one sentence. “I guess you’re doing the right thing,” Rhodey says in an attempt, Peter realises, to comfort him.

“Yeah, Pete doesn’t really have anyone but his aunt, so I guess I’ll do while she recovers.” He laughs, but it’s strained and clearly unnatural. “Anyway, I better make sure he’s okay, still on for Friday though?” He asks and when he hears Rhodey signal the affirmative he hangs up the phone.

It really hits him for the first time when peter steps over the threshold into his apartment. All his and May’s stuff was gone. It wasn’t like they had had much to begin with, but it had been theirs, and it had been hard earned.

Less than 24 hours after that reality, Peter was relying on Mr Stark to feed him, shelter him, buy him new clothes. God, he was going to need new clothes, and anxiety starts to rise in his chest. He never should have called Mr Stark in the first place. It’s not like the man owed him anything and even if he did it wasn’t right for Peter to just expect him to look after him.

Plus, now he was putting the man out and Peter was certain he was a busy man and couldn’t just put his life on hold while Peter moped around like a dead weight. Pressure rising in his head causes him to sit on the mostly ruined ground as he thinks around in circles.

He was in too deep now to just back out. He’d forced Mr Stark to sign papers that meant he was legally looking after him. He couldn’t believe Peter had let himself be that needy, let himself be so dependent on the man who really, he’s not even that close too.

He’s really starting to panic now, his heart racing as he takes in his complete and utter failure – even in keeping the apartment safe – and he tries and fails to take a deep breath.

“Come on,” he butters under his breath as his shaking hands pull at his shirt. But it doesn’t work. Somewhere in the back of his mind he’s aware that he’s hyperventilating. He’s trying, he really is, but it’s not working and no matter what he does he can’t breathe. Why can’t he breathe?

He doesn’t hear Tony enter the room, doesn’t register him swearing at the sight of peter and kneeling down in front of him, presumably to help. Instead, Peter is stuck with his head absolutely pounding and tears spilling freely from his eyes as he desperately tries – but fails – to get his panic under control.

“Come on kid, deep breaths with me now,” Tony says, ignoring the way his own voice shakes with uncertainty. “You’re okay, just copy me, okay?” He takes a deep, exaggerated breath. “In for four, just like that, now hold for four, good now out for four.” Tony instructs, calling upon what his own therapy had taught him. Though he doesn’t think he’s ever been in the right headspace to do so before.

Peter, Tony realises, is still quite panicked and it takes more than one failed breath to finally return to a normal rhythm. But eventually, with Tony’s gentle guidance, Peter manages to breathe on his own, hands trembling less severely than they had been minutes earlier.

“So kid” He starts when he’s pretty sure Peter won’t panic again at the questions. “What happened here?” He asks, utterly out of his depth. Both in comforting the boy and of whether he’s crossing some sort of line in asking for the boys’ inner thoughts.

Before he can think about it to much, though, Peter answers weakly, and Tony has to strain to hear him. “I just, I don’t want to put you out, Mr Stark.” And that, well, that was pretty much the last thing Tony had expected to hear.

“Huh?” He says, ever-so-eloquently, but thankfully Peter continues. “I know I’m a lot of work and you don’t have to. You have your own life.” And if Tony’s being honest, he has no idea what Peter is talking about. But damn it if he’s going to let him have a panic attack without making sure he’s okay.

And if he’s feeling increasingly like he can’t handle this and maybe the kid would be better off with someone else, well that’s his business. “Kid, it’s okay. I’m glad you trusted me.” He says after a second to long, accidentally having left the kid hanging as he got lost in his thoughts.

When he sees Peter’s face twitch into a minuscule smile, he feels more confident that the boy might be okay – at least for a little while – and decides to change the subject. Lest they wallow in negativity.

“Did you grab everything you wanted, Pete?” He asks standing, the crouched position putting strain on his back. Not that he’d ever admit that to anyone.

“No, I uh, I stayed here.” He says lamely but Tony takes it in his stride. “Well, do you want to go see if there’s anything in your room you want, and then we can go get some lunch.” Tony suggests, and Peter scurries off in response.

The second Peter enters his bedroom he is grateful for the time he spent in the kitchen, which somewhat prepared him for the state of the apartment. The pain still hit him hard, however, and he has to hold back tears at the sight.

His bed had, after he left it, fallen from one of it’s post and collapsed under its own weight. His books, which he’ll admit he never really read anyway, had been burned to an unrecognizable state. Being, he’d like to think, very brave, he turns to the other corner of the room, this time letting his tears fall. The photos of his mum and dad, of Ben, have burned in the fire. The plastic frames had almost completely melted through.

Deciding moving quickly might be the best way to get through this, Peter grabs his somehow still salvageable backpack from beside the door. Picking up his laptop, which instantly breaks at the hinge, he gives up and leaves essentially empty handed.

There’s nothing he’d really want anyway. Not anymore. Anything he could take would only serve as sad reminders of what he’d lost and what he somehow continued to lose.

But, walking out the door, which catches uneven on its hinge, he sees Tony leaning haphazardly against the frame, and think that maybe, just maybe, this could be okay. Even if it’s not yet.

Chapter Text

Peter doesn’t think he’s ever been this tired in his entire life. Which is really saying something, given his abysmal sleeping habits even at the best of times. But with a glance at Mr Stark, who looks just as bad off, he gives himself a break. It’s not like he’s had much time to sleep anyway.

He’s not lost in thought long, however, as Tony speaks words to the empty car. “So, dinner and then tomorrow some clothes shopping?” He asks, looking pointedly – but not aggressively – at Peter’s empty backpack.

“If that’s okay, Mr Stark.” He responds, anxiety from having the man spend money on him niggling uncomfortably in the back of his mind. “Course it’s okay, kid.” He says in response, and Peter is able to quiet his mind, at least for the moment.

“What do you want to eat?” He asks, half expecting the half-hearted “I don’t care response” that Peter reliably mumbles. He’s not sure when he became so attuned to the kids’ habits and anxieties, but reason that anyone spending time with Peter can see the nervous energy he carries.

“Pizza or burgers?” He tries instead, startling at Peter’s yell of “oo pizza!” He laughs, because clearly the kid did care what they ate, though it would apparently kill him to say so. Instead of voicing his frustration, he replies with an easy “sounds good,” turning on the blinker and pulling into the pizza place he and Pepper frequented.

Arriving not five minutes later, Tony steps effortlessly from the car, assuming Peter to be close behind. He slips a menu in front of him, fiddling with the QR code on the table, mindlessly choosing a pizza and some diet coke, and trying not to think about his eating habits as of late.

Instead of asking Peter what he wants only to get some nonchalant answer, he simply passes him the phone, instructing him to pick whatever he wanted. Food now surely on its way, Tony starts a conversation he hopes will bring up Peter’s mood, at least temporarily.

“So, I was thinking Pete,” he starts, “how bout after we go buy you some shirts and whatever you get started on that holiday homework.” At this, he expects Peter’s face to fall, so he continues steadfast. “I figured the quicker you get it done, the quicker we can move on to more interesting things.”

At Peters confusion, he adds, “maybe to do with Spiders, if you know what I mean.” He laughs as the kids’ eyes go wide, and a smile spreads across his face for what Tony swears could be the first time.

With Tony’s goal of cheering the kid up all but accomplished, and pizza being set down in front of them, both are content to sit in amicable silence as they eat.

Once peacefully driving home, it occurs to Tony just how much time he’s spent behind a wheel in the past two days without Happy and is surprised to find he doesn’t mind it much. It’s been a long time since he’s had any excuse to drive, and he’s missed it more than he realised.

When the morning sun rises, Tony finds himself working somewhat on autopilot as he drives the two to the shopping mall, not quite aware of the trip until its over. “There’s a park there,” Peter comments, and Tony is snapped back to reality by the domesticity of it. Grabbing sunglasses and a cap in a feeble attempt to disguise himself for the boy’s sake, Tony steps into the cold New York Street.

“Where to first, Pete?” He asks, hoping he’ll take the question as permission to lead the way.

“Well, May and I normally get our clothes from Target so I guess we should start there.” Peter says without thinking much of it, starting towards the store. Peter finds himself surprisingly familiar with its layout and navigates the two to the men’s section with ease.

Grabbing a shirt with a corny science pun on it, Peter checks the size before putting it in the basket Mr Stark grabbed when they walked in. Deciding he probably needs two t-shirts, Peter settles for a plain white one, figuring it will go with whatever pants he grabs.

Walking stubbornly past the button-down shirts, because why would he need one of those, he’s stopped by Mr Stark. Peter’s not sure when he started talking on the phone but becomes quickly aware when he’s stopped not by the man’s voice but by a wildly waving hand directed towards the shirts.

“What?” He asks, “I have all the tops I need,” he says, prompting the man to excuse himself from the call, frustrated. “Get a button down as well kid.” “But I don’t need one,” he responds feebly, genuinely confused at the man’s insistence.

“Just. What about this? Size small?” And Peter just nods, because clearly, it’s important to Tony and he’s not about to argue with him again and well, he is a size small. Tony, distracted once again by his phone, leaves Peter silently walking the store.

Peter decides he could live with only two pairs of pants. Really, it’s only two less than he’s used to, and he can live with doing an extra load of laundry every once in a while. He grabs the navy jeans from the discount rack, and a slightly more expensive pair of wide legs.

This time he’s less surprised when Tony grabs some beige chino’s and throws them in the basket. He still puts up a weak argument but resigns to the pants without much fight.

“Come on let’s get you a jacket,” Tony prompts as he starts towards the checkout. Peter already has a jacket, one of the few salvageable things from their apartment, and it’s ridiculous to have two jackets, so he shakes his head.

“Kid, we live in New York. You live in Queens. You need a jacket.” Tony says, pulling away from the phone. “I have one, in my backpack.” Peter replies, and Tony seems to accept this, though he can see the frustration on his face.

With Tony once again distracted by what he assumes to be a business call, Peter stands, awkwardly looking down. Doing so prompts him to remember his shoes which were both his only pair and in desperate need of replacement. The left had a hole in the big toe from where he’d dropped chemicals in the lab about a month ago, and he’d been putting band aids on his ankles to stop them from blistering for nearly double that time.

Tony, who has started toward the checkout, must sense Peter’s hesitation. Having at some point hung up his phone, his focus settles on Peter, who in turn feels incredibly uncomfortable. “Something wrong?” He asks, “need something else?” And Peter is decidedly not going to ask his mentor and the man he’s looked up to since he was 3 to buy him new shoes. He just isn’t.

But Tony must have some sort of psychic ability, because after pausing for only a second, he sees the cause of Peter’s most recent anxiety. “Is that tape, keeping the toe on that shoe kid?” He asks, and Peter feels his face flush a crimson red. If he’s honest, he had forgotten the tape was even there; but it was, and Tony had seen, and he was so embarrassed.

“Uh, yeah, it is.” He says, hoping despite his hearts insistent pounding that the man suggest they get new ones. He knew what he wanted, had looked on his laptop when the toe hold started to become a problem and found a 20-dollar pair that he figured he could afford in the new year. If he got Christmas money.

So Peter tries to separate the idea that he’s only here because May is in hospital with the fact that he’s finally getting new shoes, and allows his happiness to overtake what he sees as greed. And on further interrogation of the thought, guilt.

When they arrive at the shoe section of the store, Peter instantly grabs those which he’d seen online, making sure they’re his size before dropping them in the basket. But his embarrassment somehow increases tenfold when he sees Tony’s disapproving scowl. “No offense Pete, but are you sure you want grandma slip-ons?” “Well, they’re the cheapest ones.” He says, quick to defend his choice but evidently choosing the wrong strategy. “I don’t care how much they are, what about these?” He holds up silver shoes, which in response to the movement light up. “Okay, maybe not,” he says with humour laced tone, and then, “I know kid, why don’t we go to the converse store, get you some nice new high tops.”

 And Peter just can’t say no. Not only because the man won’t take it for an answer, but also because Ned got green High Tops for his birthday, and Peter is obsessed. So, reluctant as he is at the idea of Tony spending more money, Peter puts the cheap slip-ons back on the counter.

Following Tony in silence, Peter is instantly enthralled by just how much choice there is for runners – seriously, who would want shiny yellow ones – and goes to try on plain black high tops, because he’s always been interested in classics.

Tony is having a better time than he thought he would. Shopping with Peter turns out to be different than he thought it would, the boy’s anxiety over money Tony won’t even miss almost endearing. Thought Tony has to admit it’s causing discomfort to settle in his chest. He’s not sure how he’d never managed to notice the kids’ clothes were practically falling apart. Or that clearly, he couldn’t or wouldn’t spend the money to replace them.

Regardless, Tony silently vows to pay more attention to what the kid needs. Because despite Peter’s near constant nattering, it was becoming increasingly clear that there were some things he held close to his chest.

Which Tony supposed was normal. But still concerning. He knew he wasn’t the best of mentors; knew he was in over his head. But it was to late for that concern, and the kid is important to him apparently, so he’s going to do better. Or, at the very least, he’s going to try.

Thoughts cut off by his ringing phone, Tony hurries to pull the device from his pocket. Normally, he’d let it ring out if it weren’t Pepper or Rhodey. But with him being, essentially, May’s emergency contact and the boy seemingly content looking at shoes, he answers politely.

“Tony S, speaking,” he says, attempting at the last minute not to draw attention to himself or Peter. He’s thankfully successful, and able to pin his attention on his phone rather than his surrounds.

“Hi Mr Stark.” A male voice starts. “I just wanted to let you know that May Parker has been taken into surgery. The positioning of her burn wounds means that to have the best chance for eventual recovery and movement, she needs skin grafts.”

Tony hums his understanding, and the man continues. “The procedure should take around two hours, and then a fortnight to heal. However, you’re welcome to visit her from tomorrow. Though she may be unconscious for large periods of time in the short term.” He finishes, and with Tony thanking him, the phone call is finished.

Tony moves to pay for the shoes Peter has been ogling since he started talking. Deciding finally that it was probably best the two head back to the tower, to rest if not to sleep, Tony fixes his cap and starts towards where they’d parked the car.

He fills Peter in on the nurse’s information, driving mindlessly as he pays more attention to the boy than the road. He notices his idiosyncrasies where he didn’t even 30 hours prior. Notices the increased intensity of his bouncing leg as the news processes. But he doesn’t comment.

He’s grateful for the solemness with which Peter takes the new information, though he suspects it’s an attempt to impress him, rather than from any genuine feeling of calm. “Maybe we can go see her tomorrow, if that’s okay?” He says, nerves shaking his voice. “That way she can rest after her surgery.” Peter finishes, and Tony agrees, impressed by the boy’s logical train of thought in the face of what must be challenging emotion.

They’re back at the tower quickly, and Tony is contempt filling in paperwork Pepper sent him while Peter watches Star Wars in the background. When he hears Peter’s breathing even out, Tony pulls a blanket over him. He wonders not for the first time where he found the instinct to comfort or care.

Though he doesn’t dwell on the thought, knowing it will bring him no good. Instead, he goes back to his busywork, something he’s sure Pepper will appreciate him finally doing. And if he does it wrong in his distracted haze – and admitted exhaustion – that’s for him to know.

He wonders vaguely how May does this all the time. He’s had the boy for three days and he’s the most tired he’s ever been. Knowing it was only Monday, and he was sure to have the boy at least for anther couple of weeks, he drifts into a restless sleep.

Chapter Text

Pepper's not surprised when Tony doesn’t come to bed. She is, however, surprised to find him asleep on the couch, Peter lying practically on top of him. It’s clear they were halfway through something when they fell asleep, the TV still playing quietly and Tony’s laptop burning a hole in his pants.

Deciding it best to wake her fiancé – but to try and let Peter sleep – Pepper gently shakes Tony’s shoulder. Waking up in a spluttered cough, Tony alerts Peter in turn, expression matching shades of embarrassed.

“I’m, bathroom, bye.” Peter says, scurrying away without further explanation.
“So, good night?” She asks mischievously, and Tony laughs his agreeance.

“Pancakes, Pep?” He asks, moving to the kitchen as he runs a hand through his hair. She nods, and he starts grabbing ingredients, eyes unconsciously landing at the door of the guest room.

“You seem to be getting on well with Peter.” Pepper starts, and it’s not a question but Tony feels an incessant need to provide some sort of answer. “He’s a good kid. Easy to like. Though I wish he’d talk to me more. I can’t get any grasp on how he’s feeling about May. Though I’m sure it’s you know, bad.” He finishes, trailing off lamely.

Pepper, ever the wise and logical head in their relationship responds without hesitation. “He’ll open up when he’s ready. Besides it’s normal – but unhealthy” She adds, glaring pointedly at him, “to try and ignore when bad things happen.” Tony laughs, because what else is he meant to do.

He leans into kids Pepper, though their intimate moment is interrupted by Peter re-entering the room. Tony wouldn’t have even noticed his presence if it weren’t for his exclamation of “shit, not that, crap, sorry.” Tony, only a little awkwardly, pulls away and grabs a third plate for Peter, who sits dutifully at the bench.

“Are we, uh, going to see May today?” He asks quietly and Tony wishes he could take the boys anxiety as his own. “If that’s what you want, we can go as soon as we’ve eaten.” Tony says, sliding a pancake easily onto Peter’s place. “By the way, your clothes are in the guest room if you want to, you know, freshen up.” He adds, winking at the kid and looking pointedly at the couch, where the blanket remains askew on the floorboards.

With Tony already having called Happy to drive them to the hospital, it takes less than 20 minutes for them to be on their way.

“Mr Stark?” Peter asks as Tony listlessly runs a conversation though his head. “I’m uh, I’m scared.” He finishes shakily and Tony does not know how to respond to that but damn him if he’s not going to try.

“I know you are, kid,” He starts, thoughts running rapidly through his head as he searches for any form of comfort. God knows Howard didn’t set any sort of example. “But the doctor said May was in a good place. And she’s so strong. It might take some time for her to be in A+ condition, but she will be.”

Peter hiccups, and a turn of Tony’s head tells him he’s crying. “I, I miss her so much, Mr. Tony. And it’s only been like, three days, what am I. I don’t. I can’t.” Peter blurts out and if honesty was Tony’s policy, he’d admit that he’s starting to panic. But it’s not, so he instead focuses his energy on comforting the now sobbing teenager.

“Hey, Pete,” he says, awkwardly linking his arm around the young boys back. “You’re okay.” He adds, and every instinct is screaming at him to stop because what is he doing. But the boy leans in. And that’s all the reassurance he needs to know he’s doing the right thing. Or at least trying to.

Peter cries into Tony’s shoulder, but he finds he doesn’t care. If he can make Peter feel any better, he will, and clearly the boy just needs to cry, needs to let out some emotion.

The stay unmoving until Happy pulls up at the hospital, and Tony wouldn’t have realised if it weren’t for the man opening the door, Tony nearly falling from the car in turn. Peter fights the release at first, and Tony hears a whine escape from under his breath but doesn’t comment. Reluctantly getting out of the car himself, Peter follows Tony into the hospital.

Tony follows the path to May’s room and tries not to look too taken aback by just how sick May looks. Thankfully, Peter doesn’t seem to notice, focused instead on rushing to her side.

Peter doesn’t quite know hot to act. For all the pain and death that seems to follow him around, he’s never really spent much time in a hospital, and he fins he absolutely hates it. Even beside May, who looking at fills him with guilt and fear. But with the machines humming constantly and the low but clearly there nattering of people in the background, he feels like he’s exploding.

 Even without enhanced senses, he doesn’t know how people could stand to be here longer than five minutes, because he can barely stand it. He wants to leave and be gone. But he won’t because May would never leave him, so he won’t leave her.

And the, as if he’s not feeling overwhelmed as it is, Doctor John, who clearly was in charge of May’s ongoing care, walked into the room.

“Mr Parker, Mr Stark. He greets and both hum greetings in response. “Given May’s grafts seem to be taking well so far, I thought we should start discussing what her long-term needs will look like.” Peter nods eagerly, desperate to hear anything about May’s future.

“We’ll continue to monitor her closely for the next 4-6 days to make sure there’s no further complication with the grafts.” “Okay,” Peter says, and John continues. “After that, she’ll need rehabilitation care to help her reintegrate into daily life.” Peter feels Tony place a comforting hand on his shoulder and allows himself to lean into the touch.

“We should have a better idea of her specific needs once the grafts have healed more, but expect it to be a long process, given the size and positioning of her injuries.” Dr John smiles and Peter appreciates his attempt at kindness even despite his less than good news.

“In the meantime, there’s not much to do but wait. She should be awake soon, if you want to talk to her.” He finishes, leaving the three alone once more.

Peter opts to stay standing next to May but feels rather than sees Tony move away and into the seat in the room. He stands, brushing a hand nervously over her hair as she lays unmoving. He tries not to think about the fact that he hasn’t seen her move in days, because he doesn’t want to cry. Again.

He’s not quite sure how much time has passed, but eventually May opens her eyes, and peter can’t help the tears that spring to his eyes. “Hi May,” he whispers, and then, “I love you.”

“I love you too.” She says, Peter’s tears spilling awkwardly onto her hospital gown. “I’m so sorry,” he says, unprompted and unsure where exactly the thought came from. “I should’ve look after you.” He finishes and waits, though he’s not sure for what.

“Pete, honey,” she smiles, but it turns quickly to a grimace. “It’s not your fault, you got me out, you did all you could.” And Peter says nothing, the lump in his throat preventing words from coming out. “Plus, I’m okay, see?” She says and forces her face into a smile, a wet laugh escaping Peter’s lips.

“You don’t need to worry about me.” She finishes, Peter nodding in spite of himself. “And” she adds, with a look in the direction of Mr Stark, “it seems you’ve got people who care for you looking out for you. You know, while I’m having fun in the hospital.” Peter laughs again, and really, Peter may list it as a reason he loves her. Her ability to make anything okay, at least for a little while.

So, he kisses her on the head and promises to be back tomorrow. And that is all he says. Because, guilty as it may make him feel, he can’t bring himself to keep looking at her. What he’s looking at isn’t May, it’s some disfigured unnatural form. He hates himself for thinking it, but he does.

“Pete,” Tony says in the car. “How ‘bout when we get back, we have a look at that Spidey suit?” He feels Peter’s energy lift instantly. “You haven’t been out in a while, and I’ve got a couple of upgrades you might like.” Agreeing easily, Tony tries to remember what he actually has in the lab, and what he might need to order to perfect the suit.

When they arrive, Peter practically bolts from the car. Tony doesn’t stop him, instead smiles at the boy’s clear excitement. “Kid!” He calls from a few feet behind, “food first, then lab.” Peter’s speed instantly slows to a regular person pace, though Tony can feel his energy from the way he’s bouncing on his toes.

“So, Mr Stark.”
“Tony, kid.”
“Sorry, Tony.” The interruption clearly causing Peter to lose his train of thought, as there’s a noticeable pause before continuing to speak.
“What do you think we could do to the suit?” He asks eventually.

“Well,” Tony starts, Peter’s energised nature becoming almost infectious. “I was thinking we could add some sort of woolen liner. Retractable maybe.” Peter looks confused, so he expands more. “I know you get cold when you’re out patrolling, and I think it’s high time we do something about that.” He finishes, surprised when the boy’s emotion is replaced with apprehension.

“Problem, kid?” He asks, when Peter doesn’t speak. “No, I just, don’t know how much I’m gonna patrol this winter.” He says and Tony is surprises by his nonchalant tone.

“What’re you talking about. I thought you love patrolling?” He asks. “I do, it’s just, with May and school, I don’t know how much time I’m going to have.” He’s almost embarrassed by the kid’s embarrassment. Deciding to tackle the most obvious issue first, he asks “what do you mean, me?”

And from the way Peter freezes except for a hand running nervously through his hair, it seems he wasn’t even fully aware he’d said it. “Nothing just, May’s normally at work a lot, but you’re well, you probably want me around more.” He says, and well, he’s not wrong, Tony does like having him around.

“Well, I like it when you’re here.” He says the increasingly familiar sensation of being in over his head rising again. “But I want you to do the things you like as well.” He finishes, proud of the sensibility with which he responded to the boy.

“Okay well, maybe when May’s a little more stable. Not stable, just, you know.” And Tony can’t help but placate him. “It’s okay, Pete.” “Just, maybe once May’s in the rehab Dr John was talking about, I’ll go patrolling again. I want to be around in case she needs me.”

And Peter is so mature despite his age that it saddens Tony, because he knows it’s born of having to grow up too quickly. It’s not fair because he’s only 15 and God, when Tony was fifteen, he was smart, but he was also an idiot. Which is normal, he reasons, and Tony finds himself desperately wanting Peter to have normal.

Thoughts interrupted by his cell buzzing in his pocket, he nods his assent at Peter, pointing at the bread and hoping he gets the message before answering the call.

“Hey Rhodes, what’s up?” He greets, not having spoken to the man since he first picked Peter up. “Just wanted to check in, see how you and Peter are getting on.” He says simply. There’s a reason the man is his best friend. His ability, ever since Tony was a teenager, to know when he needs help and when he just needs someone by his side.

“We’re good,” he says eventually. “it’s hard, May’s really not well. But he’s handling it like a champ.” He’s honestly surprised when Rhodey casually remarks, “you seem proud, Tones.”

“I’m not, well I am, but he’s not mine to be proud of, you know.” He says and Tony can hear the smirk in his reply. “I’m glad the two of you are getting on so well.” And then “by the way, I have something for you, is it okay if I come over for dinner tomorrow?”

Tony laughs, because even at his most genuine, Rhodey is always thinking about at least three different things. Not unlike himself, he reasons, adding a quick, “sure” to placate him before hanging up the phone.

Realising he should probably warn the kid before having Rhodey over, Tony knocks gently on the door of what is now Peter’s room. The kid had dismissed himself there while waiting for Tony, and he opens it when he hears Peter’s agreement.

"What’re you doing, Pete?” He asks, though it’s plainly obvious from the two textbooks and paper in front of him. “Just some homework and talking to Ned.” He answers, pointing at his phone. Tony sees Ned visibly pale and decides to scare him just a little bit more.

“Hi, Ted, is it?” Nice to meet you.” He says, purposely getting his name wrong and watching as the boy’s mouth opens and closes without any words coming out. “Well, I’ll leave you two to it. Pete, just wanted to let you know that Rhodes is coming over tomorrow.” He goes to leave, before remembering to add, “and when you’re finished, how bout we get started in the lab.”

Tony leaves the two boys chattering excitedly about both him and Rhodey, hearing Ned screech something crazy about the lab, before deciding to check out the work he’s been ignoring since Friday.

The third time Peter says Mr Starks name he looks up, and Peter realises he doesn’t quite know what to say next. “I had a question, but I’m not really sure if you’re the one to ask?” He says, and that in itself wasn’t intended as a question, but it comes out as one, nonetheless.

“Sure,” Tony says, putting down his tweezers and looking at Peter. “Well, Ned and I were going to have a sleepover at my place on Thursday. But you know, with everything, I forgot to tell him and now I feel bad for cancelling.”

Peter can see the way Tony’s looking at him like a child as he talks, and he cuts himself off, profoundly embarrassed. Thankfully, Tony is kind, saying “I don’t see why not, as long as his parents say it’s okay.” And Peter is so excited he literally jumps in place.

“Why don’t you sit down, kid.” Tony says, and Peter does, equally excited to work in the lab. “I got this wool from Pepper, grab the suit and we can take your measurements from it.” He instructs, and peter does, tripping over his own feet as he races to the elevator, nearly falling face first onto the cold tile.

Walking back into the lab not five minutes later, it occurs to Peter that if they’re going to take his measurements it will probably be easier from his body than the suit. Feeling suddenly self-conscious, he slows his walk and tries to convince himself that it’s okay, and that Mr Stark isn’t going to care if his height or weight have changed some. He’s fifteen, it’s normal.

So, when Mr Stark holds up the tape measure, Peter is proud of the way he stands without complaint. He goes to say the numbers out loud, but Peter cuts him off. “I, uh, don’t want to know, if that’s okay.” He says, and even despite his rambling he thinks May would be proud of the way he’s standing up for what he wants. Or, if he’s honest, what he needs.

Tony simply hums his okay, not commenting further and Peter practically feels the anxiety runs from his shoulders, relaxing for the first time since the thought occurred.

With that out of the way, it’s easy to get lost in their work. Leaving the lab only when Pepper calls for dinner, Peter is surprised by the comfort he’s found in the man. Sure, they spoke frequently before everything had fallen apart, and he looked forward to their lab days, but it was different. And Peter is so happy to have found it.

A feeling of guilt, and then shame, washes over him at the thought, because he’s only here because May is hurt. But he tries to separate the two, because he can have good without bad, and this feeling is undeniably good.

Chapter Text

He’s setting the table for dinner with Mr Rhodes when Mr Stark comes into the room, unabashedly laughing. “Kid, you know it doesn’t have to be perfect, right?” And Peter nods because he does know, but it’s giving him something to do – so he doesn’t stop.

“I was thinking after dinner we could watch a movie?” He says to Mr Stark, asking for permission more than anything. “If Rhodey wants to, sure kid.” He replies, which is really all Peter needs to hear.

“I was thinking we could order ice cream from that place you like.” Tony says and Peter nods, because as if he’d argue with ice cream.

Tony breaks the silence the moment Peter becomes comfortable in it. “There’s still a couple of hours until Ned gets here, what do you want to do?” If he’s honest, Peter would admit he wants to visit May, but he’s not sure if he’s allowed to because they saw her yesterday and maybe she needs to rest. Thankfully, before he can spiral much more, Tony interrupts him, seeing the anxiety evident on his face.

“We can go visit your aunt If you want, but we can’t stay that long cause we’ll have to beat Ned back to the tower.” Peter nods once, running to his room to grab his phone before moving out the front.

“Maybe we can take the Cadillac?” Tony suggests.” Peter doesn’t really know what that means, but it sounds awesome, so he nods. When he sees the car, the man is already starting the engine. He finds himself rambling about just how cool it is. “This is the best car ever Mr Stark. I can’t believe you don’t take this everywhere!” He exclaims, much to Tony’s amusement.

“I wanted to, but Pepper wouldn’t let me.” He says playfully, moving the subject away from his fiancé. “How’s the homework coming kid?” He asks and Peter stays stubbornly silent. He’d done all he could with his textbooks but to write his English paper and submit his chemistry questions he needed a laptop. And his sat broken in the apartment.

“I uh, my computer is broken so I’m kind of at a standstill.” He says eventually when Tony looks over at him, confused.

“In the fire?” He asks and Peter’s continued silence confirms his suspicion. “Well, we’ll have to do something about that.” Tony comments, nonchalant. Peter is grateful for the ease with which he accepts the expensive device to be broken.

“Maybe I’ll get you to test the new laptop we’re working on.” Tony says more to himself than Peter. “I don’t want to break it,” he responds, to which he scoffs, adding “I trust you, kid,” making sure there’s no confusion between what he says and what he means.

“Now that’s out of the way, let’s go say hi to Aunt Hottie.” He says, the nickname familiar but seldom used in the previous week, the topic always too serious for Tony’s comfort.

Deciding to give the kid some privacy with May, Tony tells Peter to meet him outside when he’s ready and moves to the waiting room.

The message comes in the form of an email, unassuming among the many he’s left unread. The only reason he even sees it is the unknown address, which has somehow made its way into his inbox in spite of his sophisticated filters.

Upon further inspection, he realises it’s from the police department, who had him copied into communication in regard to the Parker’s apartment. On clicking the PDF, titled simply the date of the fire – Friday 7 February – he is met with a detailed report.

He tries to skim it, eager to garner the main points without having to read the long, wordy document. However, when he sees the word arson, unassuming on the page, he slows down, sure he’s misunderstood.

Outlining both that the fire spread to quickly to be accidental, and that it’s unlikely it would affect only the Parker’s without interference, Tony becomes increasingly aware of the problem.

When he scrolls to the bottom of the document, a heading that reads possible motive catches his attention, and he takes care to read every word. When he comes across, ‘high profile relationship with Mr Antony Stark,’ at the bottom of the list, he feels his chest tighten instantly and had to put his phone down to try and quell it before it takes over.

But, with the words ricocheting around his skull, he’s unable to think about anything but that he put Peter in danger. Guilt washes over him, settling deep and dangerous in his chest. He’s aware, somewhere on the periphery, that this is just a panic attack, but he can’t convince himself to believe it.

His heart is pounding loud enough to be heard in his hears. He can’t breathe, though he’s trying. The only solid thought amongst the panic is that it’s all his fault, but he can’t focus long enough to do anything about it. His hands are shaking something crazy, and he can’t remember when he last took his anxiety medication, but it clearly wasn’t recently enough because he’s so profoundly afraid.

He tries to take a deep breath, but he’s unsuccessful, only making him panic more. He has to do something, but when tries to pull his phone from his pocket to call, he doesn’t even know who, his taught muscles drop it to the ground.

The harsh noise only serves to increase his anxiety, and what was bad becomes worse, his whole body practically giving up. He can’t see anything in front of him, vision swimming in what must be tears. He closes his eyes, more terrified than he has been in years.

He manages to grab his phone through the blind panic, hits Rhodey’s number and hopes to a God he doesn’t believe in that he answers. The man is the only one that’s ever gotten him through episodes like this, and he doesn’t know what he’s going to do if the phone rings out.

“Tony?” He asks when met with silence, too busy trying to see past the panic buzzing in his head.

“Can’t breathe, please.” He manages between gasps and Rhodey understands instantly, having over the years become somewhat accustomed to these conversations. He starts guiding Tony through his anxiety, practiced calm kicking in as an instinct. Tony can’t do anything at first, chest somehow tightening more.

“I’m dying.” He says and it sounds breathy and weak even to him, but he can’t help it, he really is. “You’re not.” Rhodey replies easily, “it just feels like you are.” Tony has no choice but to believe him.

Eventually he manages a deep breath, though it takes him multiple tries to take two in a row. With Rhodey’s guidance, his breathing eventually settles to an even rhythm. Thanking the man profusely, Tony fixes his shirt he’d at some point skewed in his panicked haze and promises against his better judgement to talk to the man when he comes over that night.

Peter walks out of May’s hospital room only a minute after he hangs up the phone. He’s glad that the boy hadn’t been around for his attack, more still when he is able to plaster on a smile that must be convincing, even though it feels unnatural and fake.

“You’re sweating,” Peter comments when Tony makes no effort to start a conversation, still somewhat lost in thought. He wipes his brow, unaware but not surprised that he’d visibly sweat in his panic. “It was hot in the hallway,” he says lamely after a second to long. Peter, bless him, seems to accept this and moves on.

The Thai food had just arrived at the tower, and Peter thought he was doing a good job at playing it cool, thank you very much. He still couldn’t quite believe that he was having dinner with the War Machine, but he’s trying not to make a big deal out of it.

Plus, so far Pepper and Tony have carried most of the conversation, so it was easy enough to hide his nervousness with silence. Mr Rhodes is nice, offering genuine condolences for May, and asking question about school – of which he’s more than happy to answer.

But as the night grows longer still, and the conversation drifts towards business, Peter finds his tiredness harder and harder to ignore. Reasoning that he still hasn’t caught up on the sleep he lost, he dismisses himself early.  He calls Ned once he’s in his room, trying unsuccessfully to calm his friend about coming to the tower. He knows Ned is obsessed with Iron Man, and while he sympathises, he doesn’t particularly want him embarrassing him in front of the man, Tony would never let him live it down.

Saying goodnight to the boy not long later, Peter goes to clean his teeth, enhanced sense cluing him into the tense conversation between Tony and Mr Rhodes. While he can’t quite make out the words, the concern in Tony’s voice is abundant. But he doesn’t want to eavesdrop. So, he moves from the bathroom quickly back to his room, glad when the close of the door blocks out the remnants of the conversation he could otherwise pick up.

Tony knew this conversation was coming. He’d tried his best to avoid it. Even used Peter as a distraction for the man. But yet, here he was. He’s just grateful that he waited until the boy went to sleep. Guilty as he felt about endangering him, and then excluding him from the conversation, he doesn’t know if he can handle facing Peter about this.

Tony is looking at Pepper when Rhodey starts talking. And she doesn’t know what’s about to happen, but he’s hoping anyway to find sympathy in her eyes.

“Tones, what happened today?” He asks eventually, simple and to the point, like he always is. Pepper hums her confusion, but Tony ignores her, words spinning though his head but none sounding quite right.

“Was just a panic attack.” He tries, knowing before it even comes out of his mouth that it’s not going to work.

“What, when?” Pepper asks and Tony looks at her, shame rushing through him as he stays silent. Realising his stubbornness to discuss this, Rhodey talks instead. “Well, I think it had something to do with the fire at the Parkers,” he comments with fake nonchalance, and Tony goes rigid.

Pepper questions Rhodey now, but is once again ignored, by Rhodey because he’s about to answer her questions, and by Tony because he doesn’t think he could speak if he wanted to.

“See someone sent me that report yesterday, I wanted to beat them to telling you.” He says, pulling out his phone, “but I don’t think I did, given your, emotional response.” He finishes and it’s not the most eloquent or sensitive – Rhodey never is – but it gets the point across.

Tony looks up at Rhodey and nods once, words still too hard a task. He watches as Pepper reads the report, the look of horror crossing her face in a similar way to his, he’s sure. Thankfully, that’s where her reaction ends, and she reaches to place a comforting arm on his bicep.

“Did you take your medication this morning babe?” She asks simply and he has no choice to shake his head. “Not for a couple days.” He admits, because what good would lying do. “But really, I’m okay now.” He adds and it’s true, he’s feeling more stable. Safe surrounded by his friends, his family.

“I have some leads.” Rhodey says when the moment has passed. “It’ll be my priority, at least until something actually important comes up.” He says smirking. And Tony, once again, is speechless. Thought this time form gratitude, not fear.

“Thank you.” He says simply, words eventually forming in his mind. “And for what it’s worth, this isn’t your fault, Tony.” Tony nods reluctantly, his typical demeanour coming back as his anxiety dissipates once more. “I know, it’s the arsonists,” he tries, smiling. “Plus, who could be mad at little old me.” And it’s not funny, really, but Pepper laughs anyway. He knows it’s only her trying to encourage his confidence – something he normally holds in spades – but he appreciates it, nonetheless.

Rhodey leaves not long later, it being a weeknight and the man having, as he likes to remind Tony, an actual job. Tony is sure to demonstrate his gratitude in every way he knows how, which admittedly is little more than a pat on the back on the way out the door.

Tony’s bravado leads him to think he might get to bed without Pepper’s inquiry. But the woman is a force, and he loves her, so he talks to her. It’ll occur to him only later that it’s more for his benefit than hers, but in the moment even thinking about that which had sent him spiraling feels like a personal affront.

Having used what Tony can only assume to be magic, Pepper somehow understands that he really doesn’t want to talk about his feelings. “Bed now, talk tomorrow.” She says, compromising.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.” He says by way of response. “I’m just glad you talked to someone.” She says easily, emotional intelligence coming easier to her than it ever will to him.

He wishes, in the back of his mind, that he went to her. But – he reasons in the private of his own mind – it’s easier to go to Rhodes. Rhodes who has been by his side since he was 14 and seen the best and worst of him in a way even Pepper hasn’t. There’s a part of him that wants to protect her from that, unfair as it may be. But he loves her, and everything he knows tells him people do stupid things in the name of love.

Tony’s sleep is, as should come as no surprise, restless at best. But lying beside Pepper and listening to the hum of her steady breath, he’s confident he can get through this. And with her help, he think he might just get Peter through it as well.