Chapter Text
A booming dreadful sound nearly knocked Peter Parker off his feet.
The large hotel he was in felt like it was shaking- but of course, no other soul in the building knew something was happening.
His spider sense was kicking in, and boy did he have an unlucky way of attracting these things.
He’d needed just a little break from the back breaking work of being Spider-Man.
Not a very long one! Aunt may decided to visit her friend from college and stay in a hotel for the weekend, and Peter just tagged along.
But instead of being in suspense for the twist at the end of a great movie… he’s being suspended (haha) 480ft in the air from some freak with purple suspenders.
The villain drops him swiftly, and the wind is knocked from Peters lungs. His eyes well up a little bit as he fumbles to shoot a web to catch himself.
He does, the recoil bruising his ankle, and swings himself back towards this new foe.
The man’s name is Byoke? Peter isn’t totally sure what he said, since his deep raspy voice folded into a chuckle before he finished.
Guess there’s no need for introductions?
The depressing boom hits him once again, just seconds before the villain jumps onto him, blasting him across the rooftop.
This time he catches himself by skidding his feet against the floor until the bottoms of his shoes rip off into dust.
The smell of burning plastic causes Peter to look down, before he realizes that his sneakers are on fire now.
He’s not in the special suit Tony Stark gave him, but rather the one he had made when he first patrolled because he didn’t think he’d need it.
He needed it.
Oh boy he needed it so so badly.
He stomps around to prevent the oxygen from completing the combustion around his feet, and Byoke(?) tilts his head at the boy, pursing his lips together into a sick grin.
Peter webs his shoes down to stop them from burning his skin any further. He can feel it peeling off his muscles.
It burns, his flesh is softer now, and even though he’s stronger than the average human, he’s not sure just how much he can really handle.
If anything, with his heightened senses, he’s probably feeling worse right now than he should. The sticky webbing seems to have contained it, but the flames still feel very present.
His breathing has become hitched, and he has to blink to wipe the dust from the smoke out of his eyes.
The man in purple ducks in to kick the boy- and begins to pirouette instead.
The strength of his legs causes a large wind as Spider-Man tries very hard to web him. His legs seem to be his strength, but when he aimed there they just flew right back at him.
He succeeded in webbing the top of the man, but the wind sets the webbing on his feet on fire again.
In fact, this time, the floor below him sets on fire too, and collapses beneath him.
He crashes against the broken concrete, definitely damaging some tendons in the process.
His suit is ripping by the butt now, but he regardless jumps up to see if anyone is here who needs saving from the disaster.
The villain continues to hijak the helicopter he was trying to before, and Peter quickens his pace.
His voice cries out, desperately trying to locate anyone with his senses, but his voice is torn from the screaming he did earlier with the fire on his shoes.
He dumped them on the roof and is now walking through the debris barefooted. Every step against the floor is freezing, which is numbing his feet from the heat. He really hopes he won’t have to amputate them after this.
The screaming does make its way to what seems to be a middle-aged woman. Her hair is blonde- or was before the dust contaminated it beyond repair.
She seems to be wedged beneath a part of the caved roof, and Peter rushes over to help her.
“I’m coming your way Ma’am!” He chokes out.
As he’s running, a large copper wire wedges itself underneath his toenail, causing it to rip the nail and some of his skin off.
shoot.
Why is it that Spider-Man always gets the strange and awful injuries. Other heros? They break bones, or loose limbs. Or they get really cool battle scars- and get a sick metal arm!
Oh but let’s give that Spider-Man fellow a good rip on the skin of his big toe! And let’s hope it gets infected.
He thinks these things, but in reality he’s distracting himself from the pain. He wedges his fingers underneath the block covering the voice, and lifts gently.
He turns a bit as he’s doing so, to get a better angle and throw it away. He rushes to the woman, just as he thought. She most definitely has some kind of head injury, and her hair is soaked in blood.
He gets her to remain conscious, and talks to her while he rips the sleeve of his costume. He uses it to wrap her injury and keep pressure on it to allow a clot to form.
Webs would be too harsh on her head, and a huge pain to get out, so it’s the old fashioned way for now.
“Come on Platelets, don’t fail me now.” He whispers, staking this very real woman’s life on high-school biology knowledge.
The helicopter above him begins to whir, but Spider-Man does not leave the woman, and he does not chase the villain.
He stays where he is, and prays that someone else can fight the villain off for him.
someone does.
The blades stop over the only intact part of the roof- large metal boots land, and the deep chuckle rings once again. Something loud is fired, and Spider-Man now knows who he’s dealing with.
Another set of boots follow, and a hiss emits from above. Peter can hear that there are now three people on the destroyed roof above him.
One is Byoke, another is Rescue- pepper Potts’ suit of iron to help those in need, and the one man he doesn’t want to see right now- Iron man.
”There’s someone down there, Pep. Why don’t you get them, and I’ll talk to the kid.” The boy overhears him say.
No response from Resuce, only the descending of the two suits. Rescue grabs the Woman- whose name is Mary- and flies away quickly. The second, suit of armour, stays.
Peter gathers himself enough to stand before his mentor. Eyes darting around the room, mostly locking onto the floor.
“Hey. You okay?” Peter nods. His voice shaking a little.
”So,” he begins, “what’s the report, rookie?”
His voice is dry and blank. His suit doesn’t move, and he doesn’t wait for an answer.
”Because you gave me your word,” his voice is heavier now, “that you would bring that suit with you everywhere.”
He still doesn’t move. Peter taps into the silence to explain- when Tony suddenly starts up again.
”Well-“
“-No. Zip it. I’m not asking you, I’m telling you. You messed up kid.”
“But only one person got hurt! I don’t think your fancy suit would have helped that much!” He retorts, breathing heavy already.
”Oh no? Because you’re wrong.”
”what?”
”oh yeah! Two people got hurt today. That’s double your guess. And you are lucky it was only that many.”
”Who? Why didn’t Pepper take them too? Do they need immediate attention?”
”oh they do. But not of the medical kind. You need psychological aid after the stunt you pulled here.” His metal fingers pointed right at Peter, lightly tapping him on the chest.
”You collapsed a building and set it on fire! Do you understand how much money that costs?”
Now his suit was animated, “And just look at the state of you! Think of what would have happened, had anyone been in their right mind to see you, your little game of pretending you’re invincible would have been over! And maybe,” he paused, “that would have been for the best.” He picked his foot up, and then placed it back down where it was.
“You only care about publicity! If you really cared, you would be here and not playing pretend in the Dominican!”
He got out of his suit, air hissing from the density difference, and stood in front of Peter, still towering over him.
The man had eye bags longer than the drop on a rollercoaster. He was breathing stiffly, but wasn’t finished apparently.
”I may have let your little ego get too big. Remember kid, you have a lot left to learn.”
”I fought Captian America! And the scary evil guy with the awesome metal arm. I am so able to handle bad guys.”
The man flinched, and hardened his gaze on Peter. This time, he didn’t take a deep breath before speaking.
”He was going easy on you. If he really wanted to destroy you, he would have.”
Peter frowned, he hoped Tony couldn’t see the tears behind his eyes poking their way through.
”So what? I was wrong to try and use my powers for good?” He couldn’t bring himself to ask if he was ever going to be enough.
He already knew the answer.
”No, kid you did fine.” This time Peter could hear the air entering and exiting his lungs through and around the capillaries.
“I was wrong to recruit a 14year old kid. It’s my fault. You aren’t ready for this.”
“I’m 15.”
“And I’m getting impatient! Let’s go. Back to Queens right now.”
”but my Aunt’s here-“
”Don’t care! Go.”
He pointed with so much anger that Peter knew it was really time to listen up and do it well.
Tony did have a habit of losing his patience, but it does really hurt his ego. And Tony sounded final tonight.
He hoped he was wrong.
They didn’t go back to queens. In fact, Peter didn’t go home for a while. Lucky for the both of them it was summer, so he could afford to be away, but he still fidgeted the whole time.
He wished he had homework to complete, so he could take his mind off of whatever he was supposed to be doing here. He’s been waiting, mostly.
He was put in a room, a rather nice room, with a bed and a lady who would come every day and dress the wounds on his feet.
He had a design in the room, a rather nice design, with posters of science heroes he loved, including a signed one of Dr. Bruce Banner.
And he had a feeling, a rather awful feeling, that the next time he saw Tony, it would be the last.
He was told upon arrival to not leave the room, and so far that’s pretty clear with meals that are delivered like DoorDash right to his bed.
It would be very cool, if the alternative wasn’t eating meals with real life avengers every day.
Tonight it was liver and beef stew. The stew was a little chunky, and Peter didn’t know anyone who liked liver, but he knew better than to not eat what was given to him.
He picked up a cube of liver with his fork, before he’s saved by the rattling of the door.
Enters Natasha Romanoff, A.K.A Black Widow. She walks across the carpet in a fairly average outfit- a sweater and jeans.
The sweater says I <3 Iron Man on it, which Peter chuckles at.
”Hey Kid, how’re you feeling?” She asks, her voice full of much more empathy than the last person he spoke to.
”I’m feeling great! My voice came back in no time at all, Ma’am.”
”Thats’s good. Tony was worried about you.” She rubs the top of his hair, which drops his shoulders.
”Oh.. so then I guess you’re here to tell me the news.”
She perked up. “What news? I must have missed that memo.”
“He’s going to drop me as his student.”
”is he? Because I was told to specifically give you a little bit of time, and then come and hang out with you so you wouldn’t be alone while Tony’s busy.”
Peter scrunched his face a little. “What? That doesn’t sound right to you?” She asked.
”well, no, not really. He’s not the caring type. I thought maybe he’d want me gone or something.” He tensed up again, and bit his lip, looking down hard at his chest.
”Why would you think that?” “it doesn’t matter.” He lifted his head to her again. “I’m sorry, but I don’t want to talk about this anymore.” He grinned weakly.
“Okay.” She kept quiet for a while, but Peter wasn't used to quiet. He was having a difficult time eating when she suddenly said;
“What’re you eating?”
Peter looked up, and nearly dropped his fork. “Liver and beef stew I think.”
She giggled and pretended to be disgusted. She elbowed him on, but his bushy eyebrows gave him away again.
”You didn’t have this?”
“Well, the chef made the stew for all of us, to which we all got burgers instead. But liver? Gross.”
“Ive had liver every day Ive been here! I thought you guys just really liked it.” He scratched his head.
She laughed again, and her shoulders stretched as she did so. “Nope! Maybe this is how he gets back at you for burning a building with your feet.”
“Oh, you heard about that..?” He wiggles his toes the smallest amount he could, and takes the most interest in his eyelashes all of a sudden.
“I did.” She smiled. “Do you wanna go grab burgers with us? My treat.” She dangles car keys between his eyes. Peter looks past her, down at the door to the room. It’s shut. The windows are drawn and he already has his meal. “It can be our little secret.” He smiles.
[they get burgers, and bonding time]
Vision turned to Peter. “Why are you upset?” He tenses. “What? I’m not upset. Who said anything about me being upset?”
“Nobody said anything. I can just tell. It’s a part of my programming for Mr. Stark.” Peter imagined himself jumping out of the joint and leaving.
“Oh yeah. You two are like buddies, huh?” He said, sliding into his seat. “Not buddies,” He continued, “Mr. Stark created me. I know everything about him. There is no need for recreational conversation- that is, unless he so pleases.”
“Right. Same thing.” Peter waited, and then took the opportunity of silence. “If you really know everything about him, what does he think about me?”
He sat up a little, placing his elbow on the table closest to the A.I. “You aren’t going to like what the answer Is. For closer accuracy, you would be more successful asking him yourself.”
“I don’t want to do that. Go ahead, I can take it.” Deep down, Peter thinks he knows.
Natasha gives him a nod, and turns her head away.
“Well, he believes that you need protection, and that you are a danger to yourself more often than not. He keeps a close eye on you for your safety… and the safety of others.”
Okay, maybe that wasn’t exactly what he’d had in mind. “Oh.” Was all he could manage. “I am sorry, Peter. I knew you wouldn’t want to hear it.”
Peter got up, at first using the bathroom as an excuse, but suddenly feeling sick to his stomach when a gust of wind rolled in a fancy black car.
“Oh there he is now. Peter, I really would suggest asking him yourself-“
“What are you doing here?” He whispers towards Natasha, holding a large cup of coffee. “I told you two to watch him, and not let him out of the house.”
Nat looked back at Peter, quirked an eyebrow, and took the coffee from him.
“Yeah but the kid was about to make a real break for it. I figured you’d want us to keep an eye on him.”
He turned around, and pressed a smile into the lines in his face. Clapping his now free hands together once, he sat down next to Peter.
“So! Burgers, huh?” He grabs a french fry from Peter’s plate, while Visions food grows cold.
“Speaking of food Mr. Stark, what was the whole liver thing about? You’re not trying to coax me into a science experiment where I only eat one food until I become it like that one really old 90’s movie- are you? Because liver would not be my first choice, no offence Mr. Stark.”
“Nope.” He says, patting Peter’s shoulder. “I just thought I’d get you nice and strong.” Tony then shook Peter.
“I don’t know, Mr. Stark, I think I’m pretty strong already.” He says, fixing his hair.
“Don’t argue and eat your burger kid.” He says, fiddling with the wrapping with the words “Burger King” plastered on the front.
Peter obliges, and he takes another bite. The burger is very warm, and he’s secretly glad he was told to, as to not miss it.
Tony gobbles up Vision’s burger like it was his all along.
They get back to the tower, and Tony has his eyes shut the entire elevator ride. When the ding reaches to the top of the elevator, he wraps his arm around Peter and pulls him through the corridors.
“Listen Spider-boy…”
“Spider-man.”
“Right. Listen, I have a couple of guests- one in particular whom I do not think you would like to be acquainted with- coming tonight. Also, your no mask,” he says, gesturing to Peter’s face.
“Equals no reason to be in the Avengers tower. Huge security issue, I’m sure you understand.”
They pass a corner to find a little bar under some stairs. It was closest to Peter’s room in terms of what Peter actually had seen of the tower. Tony let go of him and put some distance between them. He fixed his blue tie momentarily.
“So, drink some orange juice- no alcohol- and um, what’s the thing you kids call it nowadays? Chillax?” He slides the palm of his hand down and outwards.
“Nope. I don’t like it. Doesn’t feel right.” He says, shaking it and returning it to his pocket.
“Just stay out of trouble for a while, got it?” He turns and leaves. Peter’s hands become heavy, and he keeps them very still as he walks.
He wonders how long this will take, and if it will be especially short because of Mr. Stark’s unfavourable opinion of him.
He sits down, and chooses a peach juice. Peter doesn’t really like peach juice that much. Every sip is much too tangy, and bitter.. and sweet.
The bartender isn’t a human, no. It’s a robot. But not one nearly as smart as vision is. This one is a dispenser. Peter’s sure Mr. Stark knows just what he had ordered on some program of his.
Peter punches in instructions to the robot; fill a cup with boiling water, drain it. Fill it again, and this time add a teabag, drain it again. Fill the cup, add the tea, add the foam, a little vanilla and done. He punched in for 20 drinks of this kind, and got up out of his chair.
He rushed out of the tower, down the stairs, panting the whole way with exhilaration.
His hand slid just above the railing, never even touching it. He shoved the door with his shoulder. The light tickled his eyes even though he was just here.
He ran to catch a taxi. The driver asked him where he was going, and like the cheesy romance-comedies he wanted to just say “home” and fall asleep. But he thought better of it.
“Can you take me to xxxx address in Queens?”
“That’s a long way. What were you doing near the old Avengers tower?”
“Just visiting a friend.”
The car rolled out into drive, and the man in the purple hat checked his rear view mirror a couple times too many.
———-