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Peter Parker was living a lie.
Everything was going good. That was, until, Aunt May had died, and Mr. Stark narrowly escaped death. The man had lost an arm, and was now living with a prosthetic. But he was alive. And, as he put it, he had a beautiful wife and an amazing daughter, and of course, Peter himself.
When his mentor had told him that Peter was a part of what made his life better, he had to leave early to take a little breather, because Peter could never imagine making somebody’s life better. All he did was make it worse for everyone involved.
MJ and Ned had gone through so much because of him.
He had let Uncle Ben die.
May had died, and even before that, they struggled so much with money, both due to Peter’s enhancements, and just in general, after Ben had died.
Peter couldn’t imagine being a source of happiness for somebody. Despite May assuring him that he wasn’t a burden, Peter still told himself that it was all on him. Uncle Ben wouldn’t have died if he hadn’t frozen up.
But, alas, that was all over now, because every single person Peter loved was dead.
Only Mr. Stark was left, and he had recently escaped death, and lost an arm. For a man whose life is engineering, it’d be an absolute nightmare, but he was simply glad to live. Which, by the way, Peter would never understand. Why would somebody try to hang onto life? Who would be glad? The world was a shit place. In his opinion, it was better to escape sooner than later. But these were all the thoughts he would never verbalize.
Months slipped by quicker than Peter expected as he kept up the lie, the pretense, every bit of it fraying day by day, chipping to reveal the truth, slowly yet surely.
He wore the suit almost always. He had a few pieces of clothing, but winter had started, and it was unbearable to sleep on the ground without a blanket. He was grateful, thankful, for the fact Mr. Stark had put a heater in his suit.
As the city reached minus temperatures, it was the only way Peter could even survive.
Tony was lounging on the couch, up in the penthouse, watching some Disney movie with Morgan (who had passed out promptly five minutes into the movie) and Pepper, who was replying to work emails from her phone.
“Boss,” FRIDAY interrupted, quiet, as to not wake Morgan. “It appears that the Spider-Man suit’s heaters have malfunctioned.”
Tony sat up, gently pushing Morgan off onto the couch.
“How? That’s impossible, I made sure there were failsafes,” he scoffed.
“The suit’s heaters have been in use for over 80 hours, which is above the maximum usage time,” FRIDAY explained. “That’s why they malfunctioned. They turned off, so Peter saw no harm.”
“Wait,” Pepper glanced up at Tony. “Over eighty hours? Why would he be wearing the suit for that long?”
“I… don’t know,” Tony frowned. “I should find him.”
“When was the last time you talked to him?” Pepper questioned.
“...4 months ago?” Tony tried weakly.
“Go,” she ordered.
-
Peter felt the cold, burning his skin. He was shivering like crazy, and if he wasn’t mistaken, he was pretty sure he was experiencing the first symptoms of hypothermia.
“Well,” he heard Mr. Stark, voice muffled by the suit. “I didn’t expect to see this today.”
He shot up to see Iron Man, standing next to him. He scrambled back.
“Mr. Stark!”
“Hey. So, what’s this about your suit’s heaters, and why are you sleeping on the ground in some alley?” Mr. Stark stepped out of the suit and tilted his head in question.
“Long story,” Peter chuckled nervously.
“I’ve got time.”
“My aunt’s dead,” Peter said, numb. He said it like a fact, not something that he lost sleep over, cried so much over. “I’ve been working jobs here and there, but being 16, I can’t do much.”
“Wait, wait, wait. Why didn’t I know about any of this?” Mr. Stark looked furious and horrified.
“You nearly died,” Peter informed him.
“Yeah, thanks, not like I don’t do that every other Thursday,” the man retorted.
“It was serious this time.”
“Thanks for the observation,” Mr. Stark glared, “but I don’t think that’s the matter here. My question is, how did you last so long while homeless and never telling me?!”
“You have Morgan, we’re not as close as we used to be. You have a family now, Mr. Stark.”
“Yeah, and you’re a part of it!” he snapped.
Peter froze.
Mr. Stark sighed. “Come on, kid.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize,” Mr. Stark huffed. “You’re coming with me to the tower.”
“But- but Pepper, and Morgan-” Peter protested.
“They both love you, and know I do too, so there’s no problem here besides your stupid beliefs. Jesus, I mean, how can somebody so smart be so dumb?!” Mr. Stark scoffed.
“Are you telling me, or yourself, sir?” Peter challenged.
“I may be a hypocrite, but I’m loud and proud about it. Sass me all you want, you better get used to your new home,” Mr. Stark smirked.
Peter sighed.
“Now, come on.”
Mr. Stark picked him up with ease, carrying him as he took off the ground, albeit gently.
“Thank you,” Peter murmured, leaning against the chest of the Iron Man suit, finally comfortable enough to close his eyes despite the cold feeling like thousands of needles poking into his skin.
Because he was safe.
And he would never be this cold again.
Ever again.