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Tony Stark wasn’t really sure what he was expecting when he showed up on the Parkers’ doorstep, telling Spider-Man’s guardian his tale about a September Foundation grant her nephew had won. Confusion, perhaps. Maybe a little starstruck babbling. Excitement? Just the general reaction to Iron Man, or something close to it. At worst, maybe indifference.
Nothing could have prepared him for what he actually got.
Outright hostility.
May Parker had invited him inside, but only after she said, “You’ve got to be shitting me. That’s the line you’re going with?”
As far as he could tell, May Parker did not know about her nephew’s extracurricular activities. The kid hid his costume. He hid his powers. Never once had Tony seen any proof at all he had let May or anyone in on that secret.
But somehow, May could see right through Tony’s lie?
He wasn’t sure how much he could even share with this woman, without Mr. Parker himself there yet to lead.
“I’m not sure I know what you mean,” Tony said, plastering on a blinding smile. “Mr. Parker has shown an advanced aptitude for science, and his application was selected out of thousands of high schoolers from throughout the city. They thought sending me to share the news would be fun.”
May stepped back, making space for Tony to step in through the doorway. She motioned, with a roll of her eye, for Tony to do so.
“Why on earth do you want to speak to him now?” May asked flatly. “And why lie about it? You want to speak to him. Fine. He’s a big boy, I’ll let him speak to you, but why are you lying to me about it? Did you think I didn’t know who you were?”
“I try not to assume people know who I am,” Tony said lightly, keeping his smile on his face. He was well-practiced at fake smiles.
Clearly, Mrs. Parker had something against him. Without the ability to dig into her history, he couldn’t even begin to guess what. He mentally flipped through all the reasons people normally had. Weapons? Sokovia? A building he’d accidentally dropped on someone’s Prius? The inability to stop every crime that happens?
None of those really seemed to fit…
Because nothing explained why May immediately knew he’d want to speak to Peter. And yet allow it, despite hating him?
“You’re unbelievable,” May huffed. “He’ll be home any minute. Might as well sit.”
“Thank you,” Tony said as he stepped over and sat on one of the couches. He looked around, taking in the small apartment. There wasn’t much money in the apartment, if Tony had to guess, but there was absolutely no shortage of books. Bookshelves lined every wall, each one so full that books were stacked and shoved in at odd angles. Picture frames sat precariously in front of the books, squeezed onto whatever shelf space remained. Each photo showed the Parker family throughout the years.
Overall, the apartment seemed very cozy. And the Parker family looked like a happy family, from the outside.
“This is a lovely place you have,” Tony said, still looking around.
May scoffed. “We don’t have to make small talk.”
“Alright then,” Tony said, his smile tight.
The sooner this kid got back, the better.
Thankfully, Mr. Parker did step through the door not even a full minute later.
“Mr. Parker,” Tony greeted, when he stepped through the door and immediately spotted Tony sitting on the couch. “Just the man I wanted to see.”
Peter’s eyes darted to May, something like bewilderment flashing across his face before he turned to Tony “Um, okay… why?” He asked slowly.
“You’ve been getting my emails, right?” Tony asked, plastering on his bending smile again. He just needed this kid to play along.
As far as Tony could tell, Spider-Man was smart. Quick on his feet.
So Tony was not, at all, expecting Peter to scowl at him and say, “No,” flatly.
“You sure?” Tony asked. “About the September Foundation?”
“You have never once contacted me in my entire life,” Peter deadpanned,
Which, of course, was true. But why on earth would this kid not just assume Iron Man came to his door because he was Spider-Man…
Tony looked at him imploringly, and was about to open his mouth to hint a little harder, when May spoke up.
“Peter, I have no clue what this whole charade is about, but I think he wants to speak to you privately. Is that something you want to do?”
May’s tone was flat, with an underlying rage to it. Tony cut his eyes over to her briefly, then looked back at the kid. Was she angry at the kid for Tony being there?
Peter was staring right at May, and Tony could just tell an entire conversation was passing between the two of them.
So maybe not. It was just Tony she was pissed at, then. It was good to know the kid at least had a good relationship with her… even if she made no sense at all to Tony.
“Fine,” Peter finally said. He took a deep breath, then glared directly at Tony as he said, “I’ll give you five minutes, then you have to leave.”
“Alright,” Tony said, pushing himself to his feet. “I can work with that.” Maybe once he told the kid he knew about Spider-Man, this nonsense would end.
Tony followed the kid into a small bedroom. He stepped inside and found it to be tidy, something Tony’s own bedroom never was when he was Peter’s age, but it was quite cluttered. Over on a desk, Peter had all sorts of devices stacked up neatly. Old computers, DVD players, and an Xbox. The kid was clearly a dumpster diver and built his own electronics from the components.
“Nice, love the retro vibes,” Tony said, stepping closer to the desk to look closer. He pointed at the Frankenstein computer. “You build this yourself?”
Peter shut the bedroom door behind himself, then leaned back against it, crossing his arms. “What do you want?” he asked flatly.
“Alright,” Tony said as he turned around to face the kid. He pulled his phone out and pulled up the kid’s YouTube channel. “Quick question of the rhetorical variety, that’s you, right?”
Peter looked at the screen, and actual fear flashed across his face. He quickly schooled his expression and said, just as flatly, “No.”
“Uh, yes. It’s absolutely you,” Tony said with a smirk. He started walking around the tiny room, looking for any hidden compartments where he might hide his suit. The room was so small, there wasn’t really any spot. Except the attic access door right in the center of the ceiling. “What do you call yourself? Spider-ling? Spider-Boy? Spider…”
Tony grabbed a broom from against the wall and used it to push up the door.
And, of course, the suit fell right down.
“Spider-Man,” Peter mumbled as he crossed his arms tighter and just glared as Tony took the suit.
“So does Aunt Angry out there know about this?” Tony asked, as he looked at the suit. It was primitive, to say the least.
This kid was going to be ecstatic when he saw what Tony made for him, he was sure.
“No,” Peter said firmly. “And she won’t know”
Tony smirked again. “Why not? She seems lovely.”
Peter scowled fiercely at him, clearly offended. Tony would definitely have to rein back the aunt bashing if he wanted this kid on his side.
“It’s because she’d freak out,” Peter nearly spat. “I know she’d understand me having powers, but she’d freak out about the Spider-Man thing. I don’t want her to worry.”
Tony nodded. He’d figured the kid wouldn’t tell his guardian because there was no way she’d allow it. Tony barely wanted to allow it, and he had no responsibility to this kid. The mere thought of a literal child doing this sort of work was terrifying.
But Tony also knew from experience being told to stop wasn’t going to work.
He looked down at the goggles in his hands, then held them up to his eyes. They block out almost everything. There were, like, pinpricks in them where a tiny bit of light was coming through. “Good grief, can you even see in these?” he asked. He’d have to modify the mask on the new suit if this was something the kid needed.
“Yes,” Peter snapped, as he stepped over and snatched the suit from Tony’s hands and shoved it into his closet.
“Those are basically blindfolds,” Tony said.
Peter ignored him completely and demanded, “Why are you here? What do you want?”
Tony took a breath and looked around. He turned the desk chair around and sat down, then motioned for the kid to sit, too.
Peter didn’t. He stayed right by the door, arms tightly crossed, scowl plastered on his face.
“Alright,” Tony sighed. “I want to know why you do this. What makes you tick.”
“Why is that any of your business?” Peter asked.
Tony let out an exasperated breath. “Wow, you’re a pain. I thought you were a friendly neighborhood Spider-Man.”
Then again, Peter was fourteen years old. Maybe he was just behaving like a teenager.
“Well, you aren’t the neighborhood, are you?” Peter said dryly. “And if I’m too annoying, you can go. No one invited you.”
“No kid, I didn’t say that,” Tony said tightly. All people were annoying, in Tony’s opinion. It didn’t mean they weren’t worth putting up with. “I don’t get this hostility, though. Your aunt hates me, too.”
“Wow, gee, I wonder why,” Peter mumbled. He shifted from one foot to the other, then glared at Tony again. “So what is it you want?”
“To know why you are Spider-Man,” Tony said slowly, stressing each word. He’d already answered this question. “I know you aren’t slow, kid. I’ve seen your test results.”
Peter somehow looked more offended at that as he snapped, “Why the hell have you seen my test scores? What, you can look at my grades but can’t fucking call me?”
“Watch it,” Tony said warningly. He wasn’t about to get into a shouting match with a fourteen-year-old.
“If you don’t like my attitude, you are free to leave,” Peter said in mock cheerfulness. He stepped to the side, as if giving Tony full access to the closed door.
“Wow, you’re a tough cookie,” Tony said, rubbing a hand across his face. “Okay, let me just come right out and say it. I’m looking for recruits for the Avengers.”
“So you really are just here for Spider-Man,” Peter said, his voice almost devoid of all emotion. “You’re only interested in me because I have powers.”
“Yes,” Tony said, exasperated. “What other reason could there be? We already established my grant thing was bogus. I noticed you because you’re Spider-Man. I am here because you are Spider-Man. That’s how these things work.”
Hurt flashed across Peter’s face, but it vanished as quickly as it appeared. Tony didn’t even have time to figure out what he’d done before a careful blank look took over. “Do you even know who I am?” Peter asked slowly, looking off to Tony’s left, not actually at him.
“Yes, you are Spider-Man,” Tony replied, just as slowly. “Kid, what the hell is going on right now? I came here to meet you, the kid behind the mask, and figure out why you’re doing what you’re doing. See if you’d be a good fit for the Avengers. So tell me: why do you do all this? Stop cars from hitting pedestrians, help little old ladies with their groceries, stop muggings…”
Peter hesitated for a long moment, but finally said, tightly, “Because I can.” He leaned back up against the door, and looked up at the attic access door as he continued, “It’s the right thing to do. I have these powers, it’s on me to use them responsibly. If I don’t do it, no one will.”
Tony tilted his head and replayed the kid's words a few times in his head.
Most kids Peter’s age would use their newfound powers to get rich and famous. Play sports. Impress girls. Or guys. Whatever.
But despite this kid’s prickly nature, he used his powers for good.
Anonymously.
“Is that all? Are we done?” Peter asked.
“No,” Tony said, plastering a smile back on his face. “I need your help.”
“You need my help,” Peter deadpanned, shooting Tony an incredulous look.
“Yep. Do you have a passport?”
“What?” Peter asked, clearly thrown. “No.”
“Mm, that’s fine,” Tony hummed. He waved a hand through the air. “Little hiccup, but we can work with that. Ever been to Germany?”
Peter blinked a few times, then furrowed his brow. “Germany? No.”
“Well, good news, you’ll go now,” Tony said. “I need you to come with me to Germany.”
“Why?” Peter demanded, his face slipping back into the scowl.
“We’re trying to talk some sense into Captain America and his buddies. We need more bodies on our side.”
Peter blinked at him again, as that same carefully blank expression settled back on his face. “I can’t go to Germany with you.”
“Why not?”
“I have… homework,” Peter said lamely.
Tony rolled his eyes. “You did not just say that.”
“I don’t think I actually need a reason,” Peter said. “I think I can just say no. Also, taking minors outside the country is called kidnapping, so…”
“Kid, why are you so hostile?” Tony asked. He honestly did not understand where the hell this was all coming from. “I thought you’d jump at an opportunity like this. This is the Avengers we’re talking about here.”
“Good for you, I don’t care.”
“You don’t care about the Avengers,” Tony said flatly.
“I don’t care enough to work with you.”
“Well, good news,” Tony said as he got to his feet. “I’m too damn busy to babysit, so you won’t have to talk to me much. Maybe you and Nat will get along. Fellow spider and all that.”
Peter kept his body blocking the door as he said, “I can’t go. My aunt won’t let me.”
Tony waved a dismissive hand. “I have a whole cover story ready. It’s an internship fair for high schoolers with an aptitude for science. I’ll give you documentation of an internship with Stark Industries and everything.”
“Right, and so you think she’ll just let you take me to a foreign country because of that.”
“We don’t have to tell her it’s to Germany. We can say it’s in D.C.”
“You want me to lie to my aunt?” Peter asked incredulously.
With another roll of his eyes, Tony said, “You’re already lying to her, kid.”
Peter’s jaw tightened.
“We can always go ask her,” Tony said. They could see if she’d allow Peter to go to Germany with him, and if she said no, then he could figure out another approach. He reached for the doorknob, even though Peter was still leaning against the door.
“Ask her what?” Peter asked darkly, scowling fiercely at Tony, still blocking the door.
Tony retracted his hand and crossed his own arms. “If you can participate in the internship fair. Maybe see how she feels about the Avengers.”
Peter narrowed his eyes. “Are you threatening to tell her if I don’t come with you?”
“No,” Tony said evenly. “I’m simply trying to convince you to come.”
For a long moment, Peter simply stared at Tony. Big, brown eyes boring straight into Tony’s soul. Tony had no idea what Peter was searching for so hard in Tony’s face, but he tried his best to seem genuine and trustworthy.
This entire mess was bigger than both of them. It was bigger than everything. Having a team like the Avengers was vital for the protection of the Earth.
“Fine,” Peter finally said. He stepped forward, closer to Tony, but reached down and turned the doorknob himself. “You’re right. I should tell her.”
“Wait, kid,” Tony said quickly, reaching out to grab the kid’s arm and stop him.
But Peter dodged and slipped out of the room so fast Tony barely registered the movement.
“We can talk about this,” he whispered harshly, hoping May did not hear him. “I was bluffing.” He was not going to tell her about Spider-Man. There had never been any chance of that.
Peter didn’t seem to care, because he strode out of the room, getting May’s attention instantly.
She looked at him warily, eyes flitting between him and Tony, who was still standing frozen, just inside Peter’s room.
“May, I have something to tell you,” Peter said. His voice shook, but he still somehow sounded extremely confident as he came up to the back of the couch, where May was sitting.
“Okay,” May said gently, her eyes still darting between Tony and Peter. “You can tell me anything, Pete, you know this.”
“Yeah,” Peter said, his breath leaving him in a rush. He took a deep breath, then squared his shoulders and said, “I’m enhanced.”
May blinked. “You’re… what? What does that mean?”
“It—I have powers,” Peter stammered. “You remember the spider bite?”
Tony stayed right where he was, almost rooted to the spot.
“Yes,” May said slowly. “The spider bite that almost killed you?”
“Yeah, uh, well, it mutated my DNA, and now I have powers.”
May looked extremely lost, her face a mix of confusion and concern as her eyes settled over on Tony. Likely wondering what Tony had to do with any of this.
Hopefully he wasn’t about to be accused of causing a spider to bite Peter.
Tony also wanted to know so much more about this spider bite, but he definitely needed to earn this kid’s trust first.
If that was even possible.
“Mr. Stark—” Peter said with so much vitriol, Tony physically recoiled.
He’d never heard his name be used as an insult like that.
“—found out and is trying to recruit me to help with whatever the heck is happening with the Avengers.”
“No,” May roared, jumping to her feet. She grabbed Peter’s arm and pulled him around the couch, where she shoved him behind her body, as if physically protecting him from Tony. “You stay away from him.”
Peter looked just as surprised as Tony felt, as shock flashed across his face.
Tony threw both hands up. “I am clearly missing something here,” he said. “Or you misunderstood what I was saying—”
“No,” Peter cut in sharply. “I told you I didn’t want to go with you. You’re the one who threatened to tell May if I didn’t relent.”
“I didn’t threaten that,” Tony shot back, pointing a finger at Peter. “I suggested we should ask her opinion about the travel, I did not—”
“Fuck you,” Peter cut in again.
May patted Peter’s arm, from where she was still standing in front of him. “Let me handle this,” she whispered to him, before pointing a finger at Tony and snapping, “You get out of my house.”
“I was never going to force him to go,” Tony said, still holding his hands up placatingly. “I was hoping to convince him, because this is a just cause, and he does good work. I thought he’d want to help keep the Avengers together.”
“You can’t just do this to me,” Peter said. His voice caught on the final word, and Tony couldn’t help but snap his attention to Peter’s face. “It’s not fair to me. I’m your—” he cut himself off.
“Peter,” Tony tried. He had no clue what the hell was going on. Why Peter looked so… crushed.
“You can’t do this,” Peter whispered.
“Honey,” May said softly. She twisted and wrapped her arms around Peter, pulling him tightly to her chest. “It’s okay. I love you so much, dear.”
Tony watched as May pressed a gentle kiss into Peter’s hair, and Peter absolutely melted into her embrace.
And it really hit him, then. That this kid was fourteen years old.
He was Spider-Man. He was stronger than any human Tony had ever met, probably including Steve. He was so good right down to his core. Selfless and kind.
And yet, he was fourteen and… scared. Of Tony.
Tony didn’t have a single clue why.
“I told you to leave,” May snapped at Tony. “What even is this? How did you find out he had powers? I didn’t even know.”
Peter shifted in her hold and buried his face into her shoulder.
Tony frowned. “Spider-Man is turning heads. I followed the trail.”
“Spider-Man?” May whispered into Peter’s ear. Peter’s shoulders stiffened, so May ran a hand up and down his back and said, “We’ll talk about it later.”
“You,” she said, pointing at Tony again, “get out.”
“I think there’s been some sort of misunderstanding here,” Tony tried. He had no clue what the hell just happened, but he had a feeling he needed to understand this.
“I said get out,” May snapped. “You didn’t care fifteen years ago, nor did you care six years ago. You don’t get to waltz in here the second you figure out you can use him somehow. You have no rights.”
“Rights?” Tony asked. “Rights to what?”
He definitely needed to understand this.
“Get the fuck out of my apartment,” May nearly shouted. “And stay away from my child. If I find out you’ve gone behind my back and contacted him, I will take you to court.”
“Take me to court?” Tony echoed. He’d never in his life felt this thrown. “For…?”
May scowled. “You made your choice already. Leave.”
“Alright,” Tony said, putting his hands back up as he started to cross the living room, toward the door. “Leaving.”
“Don’t come back here,” May said darkly.
Tony didn’t even turn around to see her still holding Peter tight.
Out in the hall, Tony stopped at the top of the steps and rubbed at his temples. “FRIDAY,” he said into his earpiece, “What the hell just happened?”
“May Parker threatened legal action if you contact Peter Parker again,” FRIDAY replied.
“Yeah, okay, but why?” he asked. “Why are they both acting like I should have contacted him way sooner if I wanted to talk to him? What was she talking about?”
Why did they both seem to think Tony knew Peter? And had chosen not to talk to him fourteen years ago…?
Tony’s stomach clenched.
He had an intense feeling he didn’t want to know the answer to that question.
‘I’m your—’ Peter had started…
“I’m not sure,” FRIDAY replied.
With a deep sigh, Tony finally started down the stairs. “Okay. Pull everything you can find about Peter Parker.”
“On it, Boss.”
He had much bigger fish to fry at the moment. This was going to have to wait.
“Put it in the Spidey folder, and remind me to look at it once I figure out this Avengers nonsense.”
“Of course. I’ll create the reminder.”
Tony sighed again as he reached the bottom of the stairs.
This was not, at all, how he thought this afternoon would go.
Tony did his best to put the hurt look on Peter’s face out of his mind as he drove back to the tower, empty-handed.
- - -
Figuring out this Avengers nonsense ended up taking Tony more than a month.
The airport talk hadn’t gone well, nor had his various confrontations afterward. Then he’d spent some time in the hospital… spent more time helping Rhodey with his PT.
Tony sighed as he finally sat down in his workshop after that hellish month. He had some leg braces to continue working on, and a million other things piling up on his to-do list.
Then a notification from FRIDAY popped up on his screen, reminding him to look through the Spidey folder.
Peter.
In the end, he’d been glad he didn’t end up bringing the kid. He could have gotten him killed. Rhodey was paralyzed, and he was a grown adult with so much more protection than the spider-suit Tony had designed for the kid.
Peter sticking to cats in trees in Queens was the best.
“Should I look at the files?” Tony asked FRIDAY, as he just stared at the unopened folder on the screen in front of him.
“You should, Boss,” FRIDAY replied. “You will wish you’d looked sooner if you do not.”
That familiar twist in his stomach intensified as he shut his eyes.
Every single time his thoughts had drifted to Peter in the past month, he’d felt slightly ill. Anxious.
“Okay,” he sighed. “Show me the highlights.”
Tony sat back and just watched as FRIDAY built the picture for him, showing him one file after another.
The more he saw, the harder it became to breathe.
Peter’s biological mother was Mary Fitzpatrick.
Tony didn’t even need FRIDAY to show him school records for him to remember her.
She was the PhD candidate at Columbia he’d spent a few weeks with… about fifteen years ago.
That information alone was enough to make him want to stop. To scream.
Richard Parker, whose name Peter had, adopted him. After his biological father signed away his rights.
Because apparently his biological father had acknowledged paternity before signing away his rights…
His rights.
But Tony didn’t understand how. He’d never signed anything. He’d never—
A large sum of money came out of his accounts… almost fifteen years ago. Tagged for Peter Parker.
Authorized by… Obadiah Stane.
Tony just stared at that name on the screen for a long, long time.
“What the fuck,” he finally breathed out.
- - -
It took a week for Tony to work up the nerve.
He kept tabs on Spider-Man, watching social media for any mention of him. Watching him on city cameras whenever he could.
Tony had expected to get back and discover Spider-Man had retired, but there he was, still out there in his sweat-suit.
He definitely had more normal hours, now. Tony would bet May had put in place a lot of rules, now that she knew.
It terrified Tony that he was out there in just sweats.
He couldn’t imagine how May felt. May, who actually knew him.
Who… actually loved him.
Like Tony should—
Tony shook his head as he focused on climbing the stairs up to the Parker apartment, while Peter should still be at decathlon practice.
He had the spider-case in his hands. He’d spent the previous week tweaking it, adding more features. Fiddling with the goggles, to try and mimic what the kid had invented for himself. He wrote a handbook for Peter, so he could make his own adjustments to the eyesight. To the fit.
Tony hesitated at the door, then gently knocked. He heard May shout from inside, “One second,” then the door swung open.
She was smiling brightly as the door opened, and it lasted for a good three seconds.
Until she actually registered who was standing in front of her. Then her face turned murderous.
Tony held a hand up. “Look, I know. Please, just hear me out.”
May scowled and snapped, “I thought I told you—”
Tony cut in with, “Peter’s not here, right?”
“No,” she said slowly, suspiciously, as she narrowed her eyes. “He is not.”
“Can we chat? Just me and you.”
She shook her head. “I have nothing to say to you.”
Tony held up the case in his hand and said, “I have something for Peter.”
“He doesn’t want anything from you,” May scoffed.
“I know,” Tony said solemnly. If Tony were in Peter’s shoes, he’d also not want anything from Tony.
But that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to try.
“You might want this for him,” Tony said, tapping on the case with his free hand.
May eyed the case.
“It’s to help keep him safe.”
“Safe,” she said flatly.
“Yes. While he’s….” Tony looked up and down the hallway he was standing in. “You know.”
She clenched her jaw, giving Tony a furious look, before finally stepping back and letting him inside. She shut the door behind him and walked over to the little sitting area and sat down on the couch.
“Well, out with it,” she demanded.
Tony sighed, but walked over and set the case down on the coffee table in front of her. He opened it up, and pushed it toward her so she could look at the spider-suit herself.
May’s face softened for a blink, before her righteous fury took over again.
“What’s the catch here?” she demanded.
“There’s not a catch,” Tony said, as he sat down in an armchair catty-corner from where she was sitting. “I made this for him before I even came out here and met him. I just knew… Spider-Man is a teenager. He needs more support and protection than a sweatshirt. I’ve made some tweaks to it over the past week.”
May reached out and gently set a hand on the suit.
“It’s knife resistant,” Tony offered. “It’s not bulletproof, but I’m working on figuring that out.”
“He’s not supposed to mess with people with guns,” May said. “It’s one of the rules. If he sees a gun, he runs the other way.”
Tony nodded. “Good. But, uh, sometimes they sneak up on you. I want him to be protected just in case.”
May picked up the suit and started inspecting it up close.
“There’s a GPS built in,” Tony said. He tapped on a USB stick in the case. “The tracking software is there. You can put it on your phone, your computer, whatever. You’ll be able to see where he is at all times.”
“And I assume you can, as well,” May said flatly.
“Yes,” Tony said slowly. “I won’t—I’m not going to stalk him. Or follow him around. I won’t even look unless there’s an emergency.”
“And I’m supposed to just trust that.”
Tony took a measured breath. “It has an AI built into it. It will help him research things, find things. It will also determine if he’s gotten in over his head, and will reach out for help.”
“Reach out to whom,” she asked darkly.
“Me,” Tony admitted. “I’ll get a notification. But so will you, it will reach out to us simultaneously. Any alert I get, you will also get a copy of.”
“No,” May said, as she set the suit back in the case. “Nope. You’re not—”
“May,” Tony cut in, “Please. I’m Iron Man. I can have a suit get to him anywhere in this city within three minutes, no matter where I am in the world. My AI can and will do that, even if I’m out of contact. It’s not about—it’s not about me. It’s about Peter.”
May clenched her jaw. “You told him,” she started quietly. Angrily. “You told him you only care about him now because he has powers. I will not subject him to you.”
Tony shut his eyes.
‘You're only interested in me because I have powers,’ Peter had said.
And Tony had replied, ‘Yes.’
He hadn't meant Peter. He'd meant Spider-Man. He'd been answering the question in his own head instead of the one Peter had actually asked.
How many times had the kid replayed that conversation over the past month?
"I..." Tony scrubbed a hand across his face. "I didn't realize,” he said roughly. “I didn't know I was supposed to care about him before."
"Oh," May said. It wasn't really a word. It was a short, disbelieving laugh. The kind people made when they were so angry they were on the verge of losing their minds.
Tony's stomach clenched. "No, wait," he said quickly. "Please let me explain. I had no clue I had a son."
“You signed away your rights,” May exclaimed. “You signed papers saying you wanted nothing to do with him. You created a massive trust fund for him as a hush fund for us.” She jumped to her feet and started pacing. “Then, then when Mary and Richard died, you declined custody again. So you take that lie and shove it right up—”
“May,” Tony interjected. “Let me explain. Just. Hear me out.”
She paused in her pacing and threw her hands out as if saying, ‘Well? Talk.’
“My parents died when I was seventeen, right?” he started.
She shook her head, like she didn’t understand why Tony would even bring that up, but said, “Okay,” flatly.
“Obadiah Stane was made my guardian and power of attorney,” he continued. “He kept the power of attorney long after I turned eighteen, to run my company while I was still in school and such.”
And because, frankly, Tony hadn’t cared about the damn company. Or about running it.
It had been way easier to just let Obie deal with it.
“Mhm,” May said, crossing her arms and just glaring at Tony.
“He kept that right up until a few years ago, when he died.”
“When you killed him, you mean,” May said.
“Okay, well… yes,” Tony said slowly, rubbing a hand across his jaw. “That is a way you can frame it, I suppose. He kind of started it by paying to have me kidnapped and executed in Afghanistan.”
May stilled.
“He was power hungry, and I never noticed because I was so caught up in my own bullshit I didn’t really care what was happening to the company.”
“What does this have to do with Peter?” May asked tightly.
“Obadiah controlled all the information that got to me,” Tony said. “He filtered all communication outside my little bubble. I didn’t get any emails he didn’t forward on to me. No texts. No calls. Nothing.”
May’s shoulders dropped, and she looked at Tony searchingly.
“I didn’t hear anything about Peter,” Tony said, his voice a little pleading. “Not a single word. I had my AI go through all his files. She compiled everything.” Tony pointed to the second USB stick in the case. “I put it all on that for you. You can look over it for yourself.”
“You signed—” May started.
“No,” Tony cut in. “Stane signed my name. He had my power of attorney.”
“Why?” May asked as she walked back over to her seat and sat down. She picked up the USB stick and turned it over in her hands. “Why would he do that?”
Tony sat back and sighed. “I can’t know for sure, but he was power hungry. He knew I would want to be involved. I’d write a child into my will. I’d leave everything to a child.” Tony paused, and took a second to steady his voice.
“I might even get my shit together and start caring about my legacy,” he said quietly. “My parents died when I was young, and even before that… I didn’t have a good relationship with them.” Tony clenched his hands into fists, to try and stop the shaking.
His voice, however, he lost control of. Because when he said the next sentence, his voice wobbled. “I knew what it felt like to be abandoned. I would have never—” He stopped when his voice caught.
Tears welled in his eyes, and he blinked rapidly, trying in vain to clear them.
“I didn’t start paying attention to him because he has powers,” he whispered, his voice raspy. “I noticed someone I thought was a random child because he had powers. I—I am sorry for what I implied by telling him that.”
Tony swiped a hand at his face. He swallowed thickly, then looked up at May.
“I understand that, that it’s too late. I can’t just walk into his life. I hurt him. But.” Tony leaned forward and tapped on the case. “Please. This is a dangerous gig he’s doing. I know you know that. Just, please, let me protect him. Even if it’s from a distance. I won’t talk to him if he doesn’t want me to.”
May was quiet for a long moment, as she just looked down at the USB stick still in her hands.
Finally, she closed her fist around it and looked up at Tony. “Give me your number.”
Tony paused. He blinked two, three times, then started patting at his pockets. He pulled a pen from his blazer, then looked around frantically for something to write on.
May pushed a notebook from the table over toward him, so Tony grabbed it and started scribbling.
“This is my personal phone,” he said, as he jotted down his cell number. He added a few more numbers and explained, “This one is Pepper’s, and this one here is Happy’s.”
“Who?” May asked as she leaned over to look at what Tony was writing.
“Happy Hogan, my bodyguard. He always knows how to get me.”
May picked up the notebook and heaved a heavy breath. She stared down at the writing, then finally looked up at Tony. “I’m not promising you anything.”
“I know, I know,” Tony said quickly.
“Stay away from him,” she said firmly. “I will give him this. All of this.” She motioned at the suit and both USB drives. “And it’ll be up to him what he does.”
Tony nodded quickly. He swallowed and focused all his energy on not tearing up again. “Thank you.”
May nodded, then gave him a critical look. “Tony, if he lets you in, and then you drop him…”
“I won’t,” Tony promised. “I swear it to you. I will not. I don’t, I don’t let go of people easily. Call Pepper and ask her if you want. Or Happy. I can give you anyone's number. Anyone in my life you want to talk to.”
May huffed. “No. Just, I was just warning you. I will never forgive you if you hurt him again.”
“I understand,” Tony said firmly.
“He’ll be home soon. You should leave.”
“Okay,” Tony said, pushing himself to his feet. He looked one last time at the suit, then around at the pictures of Peter scattered all around the apartment.
For the first time, he felt like maybe… one day, there will be pictures of Peter around his apartment, too.
“Thank you, May,” he said, his chest tight.
He couldn’t mess this up.
May’s face softened as she said, “Goodbye, Tony.”
- - -
It took five weeks. It was so long that Tony stopped agonizing over it every day.
He knew it would happen, or it wouldn’t. He had no control over that.
Peter had been using the suit, at least. So there’s that. Tony had been behaving himself and not checking his baby monitor footage, nor his tracker. He read the report Karen sent him every night, and read the kid was doing good work.
He was such a great kid, honestly.
It was five weeks into this when Tony’s phone started ringing while he was in the workshop, working on Rhodey’s leg braces. He’d started wearing them, finally, but had some minor complaints Tony needed to hammer out. He was so focused on his work, he didn’t even look at the phone as he told FRIDAY to answer it.
“Hello?” he said idly, as he leaned forward and soldered a loose connection on the braces.
On the other end of the line, Tony could hear an intake of breath before a young voice said, “Um. Hey.”
Tony stilled, his grip on the soldering iron loosening so much it fell to the table.
“Peter?” he asked.
“Yeah,” Peter replied.
“Hey, hi,” Tony stammered. “How’s… how are you?”
“Fine,” Peter said. “Uh, May said I should call you.”
Tony swallowed. “Yeah, yeah. I’m glad you did. You, uh, you always can.”
“Okay,” Peter replied.
“I’ve been wanting to say something to you,” Tony said before he could chicken out.
He’d been rehearsing what he’d say if Peter did call him for weeks.
Peter’s voice was nervous, but he said, “Uh, okay.”
“I’ve been trying to come up with the right words for weeks,” Tony continued. “I… don’t think there are right words.”
Tony paused, but Peter remained silent on the other side. The only proof Tony had that he was still there was the very faint breath he could hear Peter take.
“But, I’m sorry, Peter,” Tony said, letting his breath out in a rush. It felt like months of tension and anxiety were flowing out of him all at once. “For, for everything. I’m so sorry, kid.”
“Okay,” Peter finally said, after a few tense seconds. “Uh, thanks.”
“Yeah,” Tony exhaled.
“And, uh, thanks for answering,” Peter added, his voice a touch smaller.
“Yeah, of course,” Tony said. “Always.”
Peter took a deep breath, then said, “Okay, well. I’m gonna go…”
“Alright,” Tony said, nodding his head. “I’ll, uh, talk to you again sometime…?”
“Yeah,” Peter said, almost like a sigh. A second later, the line clicked.
Tony stared down at his phone, at the unknown number on his screen. Slowly, he reached down and tapped Create New Contact.
Peter, he typed in, one letter at a time. His finger hovered over the last name, but it felt… wrong.
Pepper wasn’t in as Pepper Potts.
Rhodey wasn’t in as James Rhodes.
Happy wasn’t even in as Harold Hogan.
So Peter was sufficient, he decided, as he hit save.
The new contact page popped up, and Tony reached down without even thinking and tapped Add to Favorites.
“FRIDAY,” Tony said, as he just stared at Peter’s name on his phone. “Next time this kid calls me, make sure I answer it.” He didn’t want to miss his call for any reason.
“Of course, Boss.”
Tony sat there for what felt like forever. Finally, he picked his phone up again and opened his textline with Pepper.
The kid called me, he texted.
They’d talked about this almost every day since Tony found out. He’d been agonizing over whether this moment would ever come.
And now that it had?
For the first time in weeks, the crushing weight in his chest eased, replaced by something... light. Fragile.
Hope, maybe.
Peter hadn’t forgiven him. Hadn’t even invited him into his life, or promised to build anything with him.
But he had said they would talk again. And that was far more than Tony deserved.
A second later, Tony’s phone started ringing, and he looked down to see Pepper’s name on the screen. He ghosted a smile as he hit answer.
“Tony,” she exclaimed, before he could speak, “Was it good?”
“It was great,” Tony said as he sat back in his chair. “He just wanted to say hi. But he did.”
“I’m so happy for you, honey,” Pepper said.
And strangely, that’s what made tears prick at Tony’s eyes.
“Yeah,” he said. “Me, too.”
He couldn’t wait to talk to Peter again. But he would wait. He’d give him the space he needed.
For the first time since Tony had met Peter, he could see it. There was a path forward.