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Every time he laughed too joyous or sat too long in the Avenger’s Tower, Peter wanted to pinch himself to make sure it wasn't all just one long tooth-rottenly sweet dream.
Sometimes he would lightly scratch his wrists until light red dots appeared on the surface of his skin, just to ground himself and to remind his mind that it was all real.
These six months were the realest thing he has experienced in a while.
Tony Stark casually sitting in his apartment, the crazy impulsive trip to Germany, the prolonged lab nights that became more and more frequent; how Tony became more and more relaxed around him; his shoulders weren’t too stiff anymore, he smiled with his genuine smile and not only with his mouth, his whole face softened when Peter was around him.
His humor, which to the most part remained the same, nevertheless changed its tone, from flat sarcasm and constant mockery, that could hurt those who didn't know the real Tony, to warm smiles, soft nudging in the ribs, and occasional affections like ruffling his hair. Peter kept these moments in the palace of his mind and cherished them like the best world treasure.
For a long time Peter tried to exactly pinpoint the moment where he felt their relationship morphed into something more.
His mind flickered to the two latest injuries sustained on the patrols.
Overall, no one could say that Tony didn’t care about the kid. During these six months of constant patrols, Peter began to notice that Tony was paying more and more attention to him, and his anxiety about Peter grew exponentially. Slowly but steadily. As his aunt May used to say, “Rome wasn't built in two days.”
At first, he thought Tony had more important things to do (like, to manage to company, for example) and didn't have time to fuss over and heal some random teenager's wounds.
Until he almost drowned in lake (for the second time) and upon waking up he saw a ghostly pale face of his mentor near his bed in MedBay.
In general, Peter deserved a medal for his caution, because when he found out that Tony does care, he made it his business to hurt himself as little as possible to not upset the man.
So the fact that in months he only got some burns and a few sprains and bruises here and there was simply fantastic. His personal record.
But everything good eventually comes to the end.
Peter wasn't to blame for the fact that drug dealers exchange was taking place right next to his nose, and well, he couldn't just walk by, right? Right??
His spider senses were screaming at him danger danger danger.
Peter landed on one of the roofs of Queens, slowly crouching to the edge.
There were four men standing below, all dressed in semi-professional clothing, talking quietly about something, and if it weren't for Peter's super hearing, he would have thought it was just some boring business deal (if it weren't taking place in an abandoned area).
“How much is in there?”
“30.”
“We agreed on 60.”
The man, who was standing with his arms folded, moved closer.
The other two automatically began rummaging through their pockets.
Guns? Or maybe it was just some gum, Peter should stop being so judgy.
“Money first, then the rest.”
Then there was silence, as if the men were communicating through the eyes, without words.
Still not saying so much as sound, one of the guys walked over to the trunk and opened it, revealing dozens of suitcases.
Squinting, Peter could make out a symbol on each of them that was unfamiliar to him. It wasn’t good.
When the other guy closed the trunk, Peter decided that this was the moment to reveal his amazing presence.
He was confident that he could easily snatch the guns in a few maneuvers and web the guys against the wall.
He had all the cards on his side: silence, the element of surprise, a multi-million dollar suit, and superhuman strength.
But as he limped toward the workshop, clutching his lower abdomen with both hands, he thought that maybe he had miscalculated something…but what exactly…
If Karen could have laughed, she would do that, because a numerous bullet wounds is not “a simple miscalculation”…
For the first time since owning Karen, Peter was glad she couldn’t laugh.
As to his amazing Parker Luck, FRIDAY was down for scheduled system maintenance. Wonderful, Peter thought sarcastically. Just when he tried to be a responsible human being.
As he approached the workshop, he was struck by an unfamiliar before silence. Without chatter, without “Peter, I have to tell Mr. Stark.” Hm. He didn’t like the world without FRIDAY or Karen in it.
The door automatically opened in front of him, and Peter recognized Stark's figure through his blurred vision.
Unlike the messy hair, that was a usual feature on Mr.Stark, the man standing near the table had a surprisingly well-styled hair and... a jacket? He stood above the holograms and paid no attention to the voices around him.
If Peter had been in better shape, he would have noticed that Tony wasn't alone in the workshop. If he hadn't been shot multiple times and wasn't now fighting sleepiness, he would have noticed Mrs. Potts standing next to Tony in a beautifully tailored chocolate-colored dress. Mmm, chocolate... Peter wouldn't have said no to some chocolate right now.
Neither of the adults had noticed him yet, and Peter took advantage of this to make himself look more presentable. But it didn't work very well because the laws of gravity don’t apply to you when you are literally bleeding like a burst balloon.
Peter stopped when a sudden wave of nausea hit him.
“Promise u won't be mad,” apparently that's not the best words to start a conversation with.
***
Peter's words flew into Tony’s ear and flew right out of it. Somewhere in his subconscious, something was screaming at him that something was utterly wrong, but he was so distracted by what Pepper was saying that he didn't even pay attention to his ki- intern.
“Did I forget to cancel our—” sighing and removing his glasses, Tony glanced at Peter and his heart almost stopped.
Behind him, as if in slow motion, he heard Pepper scream.
All the blood drained from his face, and he vaguely understood another scream he heard, which he later realized was his own, and ran to the child.
“I-I promise it's not even that bad,” Peter sweared, audibly making an effort not to slur his words.
“Kid, what the fuck?” Tony gasped. Is it just him, or is there too little oxygen in this room?
All he can see is blood, blood, blood.
Blood that’s too good blends in with Spider-Man's suit and is barely noticeable in the dim light, but there is so much of it, a pool of blood behind him, dark red blood dripping clearly onto the snow-white linoleum in front of him. Blood is everywhere. Behind him, in front of him, near the doors, on the door handle, frighteningly dripping down. It’s near the elevator, it’s in his mouth.
Terrifyingly, Tony thought: no child should bleed this much.
As soon as Tony and Pepper started running towards Peter, his knees buckled and he fell to his knees with a soft thud, pressing his hands even harder against the wound.
“Hey, hey, you're okay, kid, just breathe, breathe, please.”
Tony is on one side of him, Pepper on the other.
Their eyes are so scared. Peter felt scared too.
“Pete, what happened?”
This is the first time Tony has called him Pete. Not Underloos, not Parker, not Spiderling. Something about this moment felt intimate. If only it weren't ruined by the liters of blood flowing out of him.
He is being carried somewhere, but not very far away, the world starts spinning nonetheless. Seconds after that he blinks and realises that he is looking straight into the eyes of his mentor. Wow. Tony must have put his head on his lap. Feel’..nice. Even his thoughts are now slurred.
In the background, he hears Tony giving instructions to FRIDAY. Probably asking her to assess Peter's injuries. Probably calling Dr. Cho. Peter has seen her once, but has never been seriously injured enough to be her patient. Cool, he smiled to himself.
“Will I see Dr. Cho?”
“Pete, yes. Yes, of course—”
“Nice.”
Upon hearing about Peter's injuries, namely a concussion, 2 broken ribs, and two bullets in his stomach, Tony felt nausea in the pit of his own stomach.
He wanted it to just be a bad dream so bad.
He wanted to wake up and realize that Peter was sleeping somewhere far away in his apartment in Queens with his aunt, and not lying on the cold floor of his workshop. His hair was messy with sweat and blood, his suit was torn away at the place where the bullets went through and his eyes could barely distinguish between reality and feverish-dreams.
Tony was fully alert, wearing a jacket that must have costed tens of thousands of dollars, snow-white and black, now was purely red, soaked in so much blood, no one would be able to wash it off.
It was an openly terrifying picture. A 15-year-old boy was lying on his knees, bleeding profusely.
He always fought every trauma with humor and the frightening times asked for frightening humor.
“Kid, if you have a crush on Cho, you could have just asked and I could have introduced you two, there was no need to bleed on my linoleum for this,” Tony replied with a bitter smile.
Peter snorted but abruptly stopped and started coughing. And then there was silence.
The kid was never silent. He even talked in his sleep. Before meeting Peter, silence had brought him comfort. Now silence was a stranger, a stranger, who always brought bad news with herself.
“Pete, Pete, come on. Answer me, kid,” Tony pleaded, his eyes frantic.
Peter remained silent. Tony wanted to shake him by the shoulders, and if he knew it wouldn't make things worse, he would have done so. The kid looked even younger than he already was. His face was splattered with drops of blood. Tony wiped it from the child's face with his sleeve.
“Pete, please come on, if you wake up now, I'll let you fly in my Mark 42, you'd want that, right?”
Only three minutes had passed, but for Tony it felt like an eternity.
When a team of doctors led by Cho and a distraught Pepper (and when did she leave?) finally burst into the workshop, Tony felt like he had aged twenty years.
After that, a lot has changed. Peter remembered little from that night, but he remembered the always reserved Pepper Potts looking at him with the horror of the universe assembled in her wavy blue eyes.
He remembered the smell of the motor oil and phantom hands anxiously running through his curls. He remembered waking up in the medical bay, with Pepper and Tony next to him, still wearing the same suits, red eyes and and the tremor in their arms.
After that, Tony started calling him Pete more often, hugging him more often, and asking for daily patrol reports via text message. During their lab time, Pepper began to visit more often, which was strange, because she had never visited before, and Peter had only seen her photo on Stark's phone wallpaper. But now it was almost a weekly occurrence. Pepper was not like Tony when she hugged him; she held him tightly against her chest, giving him a half-hug.
Sometimes Peter could see Tony looking at them and scoffing. Totally jealous, Peter always thought.
If, according to the stories, Pepper and Tony Stark were serious business people (well, dUh, they’re multibillionaires), who didn't let anyone get close to them, but now they were so close that they were half hugging (!!), Peter thought they made a big damn progress.
But this, this was different. It would be the first time (except for the situation with the Medbay) that Peter would be overnighting at the Mr. Stark’s place. It would be incredible!
The only thing that worried him were his seizures. Namely, the fact that his medication was becoming less and less effective. Before the spider bite, Peter could go more than a month without a single seizure, but now they were becoming more and more frequent. He didn't dare tell May about it, because she would immediately take him to the doctor, but he knew that the ordinary medication didn’t work on him anymore.
This thought was in his head 24/7, each day it became more and more prominent, almost crashing him to spill it. But today he decided to put it in the back of his mind and just enjoy the evening, especially after Tony has hinted that the Avengers might drop by.
Peter was thrilled. He didn't like choosing sides. Of course, if he had to choose again, he would still choose Tony’s, but he didn't want to choose. It felt like choosing between two parents.
***
Peter was ready to just swing to the tower, but before he could message Mr.Stark about it, he received a clear message:
Happy will pick you up at 6 p.m. underoos
Well, okay , Peter thought, plopping back on the bed and turning the YouTube video back on.
At exactly 6 p.m., Peter stood quietly on the street near his house, fidgeting with his arms, impatiently waiting for the car. May was having some kind of girls' night out with her friends, so she happily pushed him out of the house with everything he needed.
“Don't forget to take your medicine,” May shouted from the window.
Peter flinched, not expecting this. He turned to May and gave her two nervous thumbs up.
A few minutes later, the familiar car pulled up to his yard.
Without hesitation, Peter opened the car door wide and, as usual, immediately started chatting with his bro (aka how he referred to Happy in his mind).
“Happy, you won't believe what happened at school today,” Peter said cheerfully to his “best friend” as his senses stirred. He stopped mid-sentence.
Without even turning around, he knew who was sitting right next to him.
Immediately, a bubble of worry and excitement grew inside his body.
“Oh my god, Mr. Stark, you shouldn't have-,” Peter said, stuttering a little as he sat down in the warm car seat, looking at Mr.Stark and despite his anxiety, instantly relaxing. His mentor's presence always weirdly calmed him down.
“Hush, hush, hush,” Tony said to him, while Happy just grunted (probably glad that for the first time he didn't have to listen to these stories alone), starting the car and driving away from the area, “you know I don't do anything I don't want to do.”
Tony must have sensed the intimacy of the moment. He sensed how awkward it would be for Peter to sit next to the Avengers for the first time, and what a milestone it was... that this was their first evening together.
Although he calmed down, Peter's energy hadn't gone anywhere. So when Tony casually put his arm around his seat and asked, “What happened today?”, Peter jumped at the chance and started telling him about what had happened at school.
After that, he didn't even notice how they ended up at the Tower.
“Mr. Stark?” Peter shifted from foot to foot.
“Hmm?” Tony asked, stopping humming the melody, but not yet turning his full attention to Peter, as he was writing a message. Probably to Pepper. Or Rhodey.
“Should I tell him that I'm Spider-Man?” Peter asked curiously.
In that moment, Tony stiffened. But only for a second. The next, he looked at Peter with a gaze that Peter couldn't read. He realised that he sometimes he had trouble reading people's faces.
Carefully, Tony put his phone in his pocket, turned around, and put both hands on Peter's shoulders, squeezing them. Comforting. Grounding.
“You don't have to say or do anything that makes you uncomfortable. If you're not comfortable telling them, don't.”
Peter breathed a sigh of relief. Of course, he wanted to show off his strength or spar with Captain America, but the thought of telling them about it today felt almost too overwhelming. He couldn't bear it right now.
“I also asked Rhodes and Bruce not to tell anyone.”
Peter blinked.
Oh
He completely forgot that they know.
“Thank you, Mr. Stark,” Peter's shoulders slumped with an obvious relief.
“Always, kiddo.”
***
The gravity of the moment descended on him as they rode up in the elevator in silence.
Panic stirred within him once again, Peter looked at Tony with wide eyes and just wanted to frantically ask to go back down to Stark's floor.
“Hey, you can do this, they're just a bunch of normal people.” Mr. Stark put his hand on Peter's back. “Besides, you've already met them.”
At the first words, Peter wanted to hysterically laugh and ask Tony: normal people?!?! What does he mean by normal?!?!
But he was afraid he would stutter so he just stopped at puffing childishly.
“It's not like I'm in a mask trying to play with Captain's shield again.”
Tony chuckled and softly ruffled his hair.
“Well, you could wear a mask, but it would be hard to eat popcorn. Or pizza. Or drink some soda.”
“I can make it work,” Peter sweared, but Tony snorted, shaking his head, immediately refusing to even listen to Peter’s suggestion.
His genius-ness goes unappreciated in this house.
But finally elevator stopped and the doors opened.
That's it. There's no way out.
***
In fact, considering everything that had happened, Peter had held up very, very well.
He almost choked on his saliva when he saw Thor, almost tripped over Natasha's feet and fell flat on the floor, almost oinked at Tony's joke, and almost lost consciousness while shaking Steve's hand.
If it weren't for Tony's strong presence and his eagle eyes that almost never left his side, he would have definitely passed out at some point.
Someone has clapped their hands.
“Okay, okay, stop overwhelming my child, let's choose what to watch.”
For a second, everyone froze in silence, Tony himself seemed to have fallen into a small midlife crisis.
The only one who remained oblivious to the situation was Peter.
Natasha bit her lip until it almost bled, trying not to joke about it. She even had to shut up an indignant Barton, because it looked like this is an uncharted territory, the new topic for Tony, so they'll wait until he's ready to talk about it.
She gave herself three months, after which she'll joke about it.
“I suggest «Some Like It Hot»,” Steve replied genuinely, lightening the mood.
Laughter erupted from all sides.
Peter opened his eyes, hurrying to answer.
“Omg, I LOVE that movie.”
Tony stared at him in a mocking manner.
“Wow, you're betraying Star Wars and you're not even blushing,” he said melodramatically.
“Mr. Stark, you know it's different,” Peter rolled his eyes, but a big smile beamed on his face. Hmm, he thought. For those who have never spent the night together, they get along surprisingly well.
“I see we're in the old-bummers club,” Clint rolled his eyes, "my daughter recommended this awesome series to me, called «Stranger things». I watched the first episode and what can I say, it's really addictive.”
Peter looked at him in awe.
"You know about «Stranger things»? It's one of my favorite series! It's so cool and so so totally mega worth a watch!!
Tony Stark loudly clapped his hands again.
"Then it's decided! We are watching your «Weird Things».
“«Stranger things», Mr.Stark.”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever.”
***
When Nat invited him to sit next to her, Peter thought he was imagining things. But when Tony scoffed and squeezed Peter's shoulder harder, jokingly saying, “This little guy is mine, find yourself another intern,” Peter realized that there was no better place for him to be.
He found himself holding an enormous bowl of popcorn, and when Peter looked at Tony (who apparently,at some point, put it in his hands) in surprise, Tony simply pointed to his own portion.
"You're growing, kid, you need to eat more than all of us together multiplied by 7.”
Nat raised an eyebrow at this but didn't comment.
Tony narrowed his eyes, wondering if she understood who he was. Tony hoped not. Although they were slowly rebuilding their relationship and a lot had happened in those months, he understood that it would take more time to regain what they had. But as Pepper said to him,
“Maybe you shouldn't try to rebuild something old, something that wasn’t working. But maybe you could try to create something new?” Simple words that were carrying the wisdom Tony so desperately needed to hear. He still can't forgive, can't leave it behind.
And there was Peter now.
Tony wanted to get closer to Peter. In those soft curls and sincere, open eyes layed a whole world that Tony so wanted to know. After Germany, Tony was broken. He spent the first few months in a fog, existing rather than living. Even then, in the fog of his mind, he realized Peter's potential, but his brain was too clouded by trauma, trauma, and more trauma... between nightmares about his parents and Rhodes' rehabilitation, he had no time for anything else except checking whether Peter was alive or not.
Only after recovering did he learn from Happy that the child wouldn't stop talking about him, and with a heavy heart, Tony invited him to his lab. Under any other circumstances, Tony would have immediately offered him training and hours in the lab.
But given the circumstances he had, he couldn't do that. But remembering the film Peter had shown him while he was lying in bed, remembering that the child was barely 15 and was already willing to sacrifice himself for Tony Stark, all these facts outweighed Tony's desires or unwillingness.
Fortunately, Peter seemed not to notice his mentor's frequently changing mood, or perhaps he was too polite to say or to show it. Tony doesn't know which option he likes better. But even during their first meeting, Tony realized that for the first time in a while, he felt in control, felt like he wasn't ruining someone's life.
Although it was so easy to do, one wrong move and he could have broke Peter, could have traumatised him. It's a good thing he didn't think about it at the time, because anxiety would have clouded his mind so much that if it weren't for his rational brain, he might have never gotten to know such a miracle named Peter Parker.
With each meeting, Tony felt lighter and lighter.
Eventually, he was able to smile more often and joke about things other than the poisonous jokes that were hurting people to to their core. He was able to reconnect with the people he had tried to push away during his recovery, and life was beautiful.
Until one evening, while preparing for a party, a spider covered in blood stumbled into his workshop, not understanding where he was or what was going on. But most importantly, he came to him.
That day, Tony realized how much he wanted to get to know the boy. At first, to Tony, he was just another superhero, another genius in biochemistry and engineering. But as he learned more and more about him, piecing together the puzzle of Peter Parker's personality, Stark realized that his interest was not just scientific. Add to that a boy covered in blood, and you get tachycardia and a midlife crisis over four cups of coffee at the Medbay while waiting for the said child to wake up.
At that exact moment, Tony clearly understood why relatives were not allowed in the operating room or even nearby. Seeing your child get hurt and not being able to do anything is not for parents. It is for doctors who are trained and almost mechanically repair what was broken.
***
While watching the first episode, Peter developed a tactic. Every five to ten minutes of the episode, he would move one cm closer to Tony until Tony noticed with surprise that he was hugging Peter.
The plan was as reliable as a Chinese watch.
That didn't stop Peter from trying anyway.
Even though they were now on they “we are hugging” phase, he was still very awkward and didn’t know how to exactly ask for them. So the plan was almost perfect.
The first time, Peter tried to reassure himself that Tony wouldn't notice anything. He saw Tony staring intently at the screen, which calmed him down.
Repeating the mantra “pull yourself together, you wimp” in his head, Peter “stirred” himself closer to Stark.
Checking that Tony hadn't noticed anything, he relaxed on the couch, feeling his mentor's shoulder next to his. For the next 3-5 minutes, he could relax.
After about 5 minutes, Peter tried the same thing again. The result was positive; the subject didn't notice.
For the next five minutes, Peter relaxed, watching his favorite TV series, until he decided to try again.
But this time, his plan (oh, how shocking) has failed him.
“Oh come on Pete, stop fidgeting,” Tony said exasperatedly, and Peter's heart jumped out of his chest until Tony's arm wrapped around him and literally pulled Peter toward him. Peter froze in this position, but seeing no intention on man's part to move, he simply settled his head more comfortably against Stark's neck and sighed contentedly. Such familiar smell enveloped him, and the last threads of his tense nerves seemed to relax completely.
If this was a dream, Peter didn’t want to wake up.
***
At some point, somewhere above his ear, Peter heard Tony ask for others to be more quiet. Nat layed on the couch with her legs thrown over Bruce. Thor sat, staring intently at the TV, whispering questions to Sam, whose face showed that if he get a few more questions from Thor then he would explode.
Peter was barely focused on the show, only occasionally opening his eyes and trying to follow the plot, but the warm blanket around him (and how it got there?) and the warmth of the body next to him, lulled him to sleep.
Listen, Peter is not stupid, he knew that some scenes were kinda intense in Stranger Things and could have caused him to seize. Ned, who is so wonderful, the most amazing best friend in the whole world, wrote down in his notebook all the scenes from the first season that could cause him to seize.
At his own risk, Peter watched the first episode, and the scene did not cause him any problems. Delighted, he continued watching and got to episode 3, where the problems began. Not to say it was the worst seizure of his life, it didn't even make the top 30, but waking up on the floor with a foggy brain, not understanding where he was or who was next to him, was not his favorite activity.
That to say, he didn't expect them to get past the first episode, and the fact that they had already passed it, said a lot. At some point, Peter lost track of which episode he was on. The fact that he periodically fell asleep didn't help his case.
He could still hear Nat and Clint talking about something, Sam and Thor arguing about something, and he felt fine.
He didn't realize when he woke up again and continued watching the episode. Steve and Nancy have always been among his favorite characters. So when Nancy appeared on screen, he wasn't as alert as he should have been. He realized what was in the scene too late.
Too late, his brain screamed.
Every time this happened, Peter secretly hoped that it would pass him by. This time, he begged any gods he could think of, to let it pass him by.
But years of experience had taught him that no matter how hard you pray, epilepsy remains deaf.
***
When Peter began to feel nauseous and he got the creeping sensation that he was about to vomit, he knew what was coming. Panic overwhelmed him. He didn't know what to do, shout “I have epilepsy” across the living room? The feeling grew stronger and Peter began to gag.
“Hey, Pete, are you okay?” From somewhere in the distance, he realizes that the movie has stopped and Tony is looking at him, his concern unmistakably flickering in his eyes.
“Shit, wait kid—” Thinking he's about to throw up, Stark ordered someone to bring a bin as quickly as possible.
Peter shaked his head, wanted to say something, to calm Tony down.
He tried to put his arm on Tony but it..it didn’t listen to him. Shaking, he realised that it has gone numb..fuck, oh fuck.
“Mr. St’rk, I-“ but before he can say anything else, his body began to go limp and his world plunged into darkness.
***
Tony Stark was not a man who was easily frightened. Dozens of attacks on him as a child, three months in Afghanistan, the death of his parents... Tony had seen a lot during hundreds of missions as an Avenger. He had seen more blood than any other person. Hydra, serial killers, criminals who didn't give a damn about the lives of ordinary people, portals with monsters... But to really scare him, Tony could count such events on the fingers of both hands and still have six fingers left.
But after what he saw today, he had five fingers left.
As he saw a kid almost gagging, he sat up, every inch of viscous relaxation gone instantly.
“Clint, bin, fast-„ but he’s being cut of because suddenly Peter’s left arm started twitching. He wanted to take the kid’s arm into his and calm him down. What happened next was mostly a blur.
“Mr. St’rk..I,”
“Pete, hey, kid, it’s oka-“
Peter’s eyes rolled lifelessly up into his head and his body started seizing.
Somewhere far away, Tony heard his own scream.
Helplessly, not knowing what to do, he just moved his hands to kid’s back and tried to help him ease into a lying position.
“You’re alright you’re alright you’re alright,” he whispered the mantra he, oh so wants to believe himself.
Bruce is already kneeling down near them.
“Any allergies?” urgently asked Bruce, taking his phone out of pocket and timering seizure but then cursing and remembering about FRIDAY.
“No” Tony was sure of it.
“Does he have epilepsy?” question Tony also viciously denied.
“Friday, how long has he been down?” Bruce asked, concentrating on kid’s pulse.
“1 minute and 3 seconds.”
Tony inhaled sharply. Peter was still convulsing.
“How can we help?” Clint responded from behind.
He didn't come closer than a few meters, respecting the child's privacy at such a vulnerable moment, but his concern and willingness to help were clearly visible on his face and in his movements.
“We can't move him while he's having a seizure.”
“So what should we do? Just wait?” Tony stared at him in shock. How could anyone watch a child convulsing and just…wait?
“We can’t do anything else, Tony. Friday, give me his vitals.”
“Pulse over 160, increased tachycardia. Oxygen saturation 95 and dropping. Blood pressure 160/100 mmhg and increasing.”
“Can u give him something?” Steve asked stressfully behind Tony’s back.
“We need to wait..”
Tony wanted to scream.
“Medication is given when the seizure lasts longer than 3 minutes, Tony.” Bruce answered, clearly stressed himself.
“Bruce,” almost growled Tony,“If u don’t give him the medication right now..”
“It stops-”
“I-“
“Tony, the seizure is stopping.”
Without finishing his previous sentence, Tony immediately shifted his gaze to his side, where the child's convulsions had begun to subside.
Slowly, too slowly for Tony's liking, Peter stopped and was now laying still. So unusual for a kid.
Making sure Peter's body had stopped moving, he pulled Peter down so the kid was lying with his head in Tony's lap.
Steve's hand fell on Tony's shoulder, but he didn't notice anything beside him except the kid lying on the floor.
“What now?” Tony whispered, completely confused, his trembling hands softly carding through Peter's sweaty curls.
“Now... wait,” Bruce said, “do we need a stretcher?”
Tony just nodded. They sat in a complete silence for around two minutes.
“FRIDAY—”
He felt a motion. Looking down he saw that a kid started to move, he was now curled up with his face pressed into Tony's stomach. If it weren’t for this moment, Tony would totally die from the fondness that was trying to build its way into his heart. But it was not the moment.
“FRIDAY, get us-“
“No ne’d for th’ Medb’y,” slurred Peter, barely opening his eyes.
“Kid, you just had a seizure, of course you need to go to the fucking Medbay.”
“Two bucks for cursing.”
“This doesn't count. I'm allowed to curse after something like that.”
“Peter, how are you?” Bruce asked gently but professionally, interrupting their argument and entering Peter's field of vision.
“Sleepy.”
“Okay, tell me how you've been feeling lately?”
Peter looked at him funny.
“Normal?” he mumbled, turning over and pressing his head closer to the man's chest and Tony subconsciously started to run his hand through the kid’s hair again.
“Did you eat well the last couple of days?”
“Of course I did.”
“Have you slept well the last couple of days?”
“Y-yeah.”
“Peter, don't lie.”
“Maybe not super well, but just like always, you know.”
Someone behind them whistled. Probably Clint.
“Well that might be the reason you just had a seizure. But we won’t know for sure what has caused it until we run some tests.”
At that moment, the elevator doors opened and two nurses in gowns and with a gurney entered the living room.
When Tony put his hands around his neck and with his other hand grabbed his knees to lift him up, Peter began almost violently slamming...at least as hard as he could after being so tired.
Tony's heart was breaking.
“Kid, it will be fast, just some tests. We just really need to find out what's wrong.”
“You don't need to do the tests, it's not my first seizure.”
Everyone in the room went still.
It seemed as if everything around Tony had stopped.
Bruce, the only one who wasn't shocked by the news, just nodded.
“Seventy percent of people experience one or two seizures in their lifetime. It happens when you don't get enough sleep or have an sugar imbalance, but we still need to run some tests, just to be safe...”
“No, I mean, I don’t need them because I kinda know why I had it...”
“Have you been to the doctor?” Bruce asked in surprise, looking at Tony.
Tony was still standing there in shock, silent. It seemed like he couldn’t process the information that was given to him.
Peter nodded.
“Technically, I was... like 10 years ago.”
Tony and Bruce looked at him blankly.
“I have epilepsy.”
This wasn't what the Avengers expected. This wasn't what Tony expected.
“What?”
The word is knocked out of him like a punch.
Tony felt his hands go cold. His heart clenched even harder that it did those minutes ago. He could taste the panic in his mouth, the kid’s words echoing in his ears.
What. The. Fuck.
“Why.didn't.you.tell.me?” the words sharp like a blade of one of Nat’s knives, but he can’t bare himself to soften it. He’s scared.
“I didn't know how to bring it up.” Peter asked sheepishly, not looking at his mentor.
“Kid, you don't pick a moment for something like that, you just talk about it. What if you started convulsing while you were in the air, huh? What if you couldn't grab onto another building in time and just started falling?”
“Well, but... that didn't happen…”
“But it could have!” Tony yelled, almost shaking, because how could he not understand? Peter’s a genius.
Tony looked at the exhausted child, his eyes were looking at him with a glimps of tears in them. He forced himself to calm down.
Too many horrible but realistic situations that could have happened flashed through his mind. But he needed to calm down, for the child’s sake.
This kid would be the death of him.
“But you still need to go to the Medbay!”
“Mr. Stark!”
“Tony,” Bruce put his hand on his shoulder. The first one to make a sound, except from Tony or Peter. Tony even forgot the other ones were still there.
"If he’s on the medication and he doesn’t feel another aura coming up, he doesn't need 24/7 supervision in the Medbay. You are taking medication, right?”
“Well, how can I put it... 50/50?”
“Peter.” stirred word through the gritted teeth.
Peter looks at Tony and he saw it. The horror. The inexplicable emotions on his mentor’s face. The deathly silence that almost like a pleading screams:
Please don’t lie. How can I keep you safe if you’re lying?
“It's just that after the spider bite, my medication stopped working so well... but it's not like I have frequent seizures, only when the light is like throbbing.”
Tony heard some exhales from the behind. Peter, realising what he had just said, eyes wildly open.
“Photosensitive epilepsy...” whispered Bruce.
“Well, in that case, you'd better spend some time in the Medbay.” Tony said, not caring about identity reveal after that incident.
“Mr. Stark, please.”
Apparently, Peter was scared more of his mentor forcing him to stay in Medbay, rather than Avengers knowing about his reveal. Or maybe he was too tired to show any reaction.
“Bruce...?”
Bruce took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes tiredly.
“I don't think it would hurt him.”
Tony exhaled deeply.
“Okay,” he said, but added, “only on the condition: in the morning, you come with me and Bruce to the Medbay immediately. No fuss, no “Mr.Stark, I’m okay.” and we run all the necessary tests.”
“I promise.” Peter sweared, finally yawning.
“Okay, then, Bruce, tomorrow you're coming with me to the lab, and we'll talk about developing some new medication for the spiderbaby.”
“I'm not a baby.”
“Uh-huh, uh-huh,” Stark nodded to himself.
The room fell completely silent, but this time it’s because everyone breathed a sigh of relief.
Nat and Clint returned to their seats. Bruce got up from his knees and sat down next to them on the sofa.
Steve was still nearby, his hand had disappeared from Tony's shoulder long ago.
“Well, I think we should all wrap things up. It's been an interesting day, much more an interesting evening, but I think we've had enough excitement for one night.”
“Peter, the son of Stark; it's been a pleasure spending time with you,” Thor replied, proudly.
“Yeah, we should have movie nights more often. I can't wait to find out what happens next,” Clint said dreamily.
“Don't you dare google spoilers,” Nat threatened, pointing her finger at him.
Clint raised his hands, as if silently promising that he wouldn't.
“Don't worry, Nat, I don't think Clint even knows where the start button is on a computer, let alone how to google something.”
“I'm sorry, I know where the start button is, thank you very much.”
Everyone laughed, except Peter, who was already on the verge of sleep.
Tony exhaled, returning to reality, and stroked Peter's hair one more time.
“Well, little spider, wish the Avengers good night, because little tired spiders need to sleep.”
“Mr. Stark, I'm not...”
Tony easily lifted the child into his arms and carried him bridal style toward the rooms. He could have given Peter a room on his floor. To be honest, that was his plan, but after this incident, he decided it would be better to stay close to Bruce in case something happened to Peter.
Amidst the boy's grumbling, which quickly turned into comfortable sighs, Tony carried him to the room. It was a standard Tower room, but Tony felt that it would not remain like that for long. A few more visits from Peter here, and Tony would have to ask Pepper to order some decorations.
Carefully lowering the boy, he watched as he settled in and finally found a comfortable position and layed down.
Tony is standing next to his bed, his face calm, but eyes full of concern.
What should he do with this child?
He got no answer to his silent question, so with a sigh he smoothed Peter's hair again, and Peter leaned into the touch.
“You can’t do this to me like this, underoos. I feel like I've aged 20 years overnight.”
“Not old.”
Tony rolled his eyes.
“I didn't say I’m old, I just said that I have aged. There's a difference.”
“Okay, boomer.”
Despite the awfulness of the situation, Tony snorted.
The initial plan in his mind was to go out and wish all the Avengers good night, then come back to Peter's room and sit all night in the chair next to his bed, to make sure it didn't happen again.
But as soon as he moved an inch away from the bed, Peter reached over and tugged on Tony's arm.
“Can you stay, please?”
Tony's eyebrows rised without him noticing. Not because he was shocked by Peter's plea itself, but because of the honesty of his question. Normally, Peter would never have asked him this; he was too shy, too scared to ruin the thin string between them.
Normally, Tony would have waved him off and made an uncomfortable joke, but the fatigue and fear of this evening had almost overwhelmed him today, and he'd be damned if he said no to him.
Rationally thinking, sleeping with Peter was the best decision. If something would happen to the child, Tony would feel it immediately. Yes, it’s the only reason why.
“Of course, kiddo.”
Trying to believe what he was saying to himself, Tony smiled softly and began to take off his shoes.
He layed down carefully at the very edge of the bed as not to disturb Peter's personal space. But apparently Peter didn't know what personal space was because the kid cuddled against him almost immediately.
As soon as Tony's head touched the pillow, Peter's leg swung over his torso, his arm fell on his chest, and Peter's head settled deep into Tony's neck.
Tony laughed to himself. Peter will be so embarrassed tomorrow.
“You are very soft, like a pillow.”
“Are you hinting that I've gotten fat?”
“No, but you’re very comfortable. Safe.”
Tony lingered on those words a little longer. This child felt safe around him.
Safe
The word he used in his childhood, meaning only one person. Jarvice. Tony knew that Peter's inner circle was small, and just being there was a huge privilege. But to be the person with whom Peter felt safe...
His heart ached, but this time not from pain or suffering, but from tenderness that spread through his heart like honey.
“Good Night, Mr Stark.”
“Sleep tight, kiddo.“
And maybe tomorrow Tony would realize and fully process everything that has happened today, all those times he could have lost Peter. Maybe that's why he would have a panic attack. Maybe tomorrow Peter would tear out his hair because he was so stupid and he embarrassed himself so much around his favourite person.
But all these possibilities don't exist in this moment, because in this moment, here and now, there is only Tony and Peter, the kid laying in the arms of a man, who would sell everything he has, just for this child to be safe and happy. Nothing could have happened to disrupt this order of things, at least for now.