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“You were reckless,” Tony’s voice was sharp. Sharper than Peter expected. After all, the man before him didn’t have a reason to care. Peter wasn’t someone Tony knew. He wasn’t even an Avenger.
“I handled it.”
Tony made a sound similar to a laugh. It was short noise; didn’t last more than a few seconds because, apparently, it wasn’t that funny. “You should buy a dictionary because your definition of handling it needs some brushing up on. Not only did you get shot and hospitalized - Metzger is dead and Grey got away.”
Peter’s heartbeat grew faster. He could hear it pounding just like he could hear the cooing of pigeons, a woman telling an employee she didn’t mustard on her hot dog, the squeaking of brake pads. Which, whoever that was, they needed to replace their break pads before it fucked up the rotors.
He had known Metzger was dead. Whether or not, Jean had been the one to do it though? He didn’t know. Peter had been planning to look into his autopsy report but everything had been hectic since-
“You’ve done really good work lately. Even I know that. This though? You screwed the pooch. You should have contacted the Avengers-“
A bark of a laugh filled the air. It took a moment for Peter to realize it was his own voice laughing. The lady at hot dog standing was shuffling through her purse. Something was hitting agansit the loose change. The noise was familiar. Probably foundation powder that was being hit or maybe-
“What’s so funny, Spiderman?” He was pissed. Peter could hear it in Tony’s voice.
“You said that without the hyphen,” the words popped out of his unbidden. He had a habit of that these last few years. Maybe it was because he was so tired of people repeating the same old mistakes instead of taking the opportunity the change. Maybe the lack of filter came from how little he slept between Spider-Man and his jobs. Or, Peter’s least favorite option in this self reflection quiz, it was because quipping made a conversation longer.
The Iron Man suit shifted - it made Peter think of a gif of video of ink stain being played backwards - before withdrawing back. Tony’s face came into view. Peter was abruptly glad for his mask. Tony couldn’t see Peter’s eyes darting back and forth, taking in every inch. Grey didn’t litter Tony’s hair - his hair was mostly grey. Peter’s mouth twisted. (The employee at the hot dog stand was counting back the change to a customer. A dog was barking at a cat. A key was being put in a doorknob and then twisted. Someone was coughing.) Tony hadn’t been that grey in the latest cover of Time Magazine. He wondered if Tony had partially dyed his hair or if it was photo editing.
Peter didn’t ask.
(There were a lot of things Peter didn’t ask Tony about. Years ago, Happy would have been happy to find out Peter could, in fact, keep his mouth shut. Peter knew though Happy wouldn’t appreciate it now if he knew all the context.)
“Tiyana Metzger had to explain to her daughters why their father will never come back home this week and you’re trying and failing to crack a joke.”
Peter’s stomach twisted. It took a moment before he trusted himself to speak. If Tony wanted to play that game, they could play. Peter’s lips twisted then. He shouldn’t have thought that. This wasn’t a game. This was people’s lives. “Jean Grey wasn’t told that her sister was murdered. She never got a body to bury which is less than the Metzger’s family has.”
Peter did feel bad that Metzger was dead. But at same time, he could understand Jean. Not all the way - he wouldn’t have gotten so many people killed, he never would he have ruined people’s lives without a care like Jean had in her rage, and Peter wouldn’t have encouraged someone touch a person like Jean had suggested he do to MJ - Peter understood wanting to kill the person who took the last of your family from you. He had wanted to see the life leave Norman Osborn’s eyes. Still did some days. The thing was Norman Osborn wasn’t here for Peter to try and murder again. Only Peter was left.
And Peter didn’t get to die.
Tony exhaled. The older man’s heart was beating faster. Peter abruptly wondered how much Tony had known about this situation before he had hauled his ass out of retirement to come tell Peter he had fucked up.
He had spent weeks, months, and even years thinking about what it would be like to see Tony again. Of course, nothing he had imagined had prepared for this. But, really, what was he expecting? Peter had never been good enough for Tony’s standards besides that brief period of time where Tony had asked him to join the Avengers.
(‘That was a test, right?’ That had been how he had brushed it off that day. Only later he turned on his phone and seen the news articles about the press conference at Stark Industries. It was then that he realized Tony had lied about it being a test. Peter had wondered if it was because Tony hadn’t expected Peter to reject the offer or if was to keep him from feeling guilty about leaving Tony high and dry when it came to the room full of reporters. But that, like so many other things, was a question Peter would never ask him.)
“Sara Grey’s death was unfortunate. It was handled wrong - I can admit to that.” Tony said the words like he was putting thought into it instead of blurting them out. Was it because he thought Spider-Man was too soft or because he-
“But that doesn’t mean Jean Grey’s actions get washed away. Metzger was murdered. So were the men and women who bombed at Damage Control center that Grey drove a tank into.” Tony paused. Peter opened his mouth but didn’t get a chance to speak. Tony didn’t give him one. “I really thought you would know better than to think this is a game of tit for tat. An eye for an eye really isn’t a philosophy a friendly neighborhood Spiderman should have.”
There were words in the back of his throat. Peter opened his mouth. He couldn’t get them out and wasn’t that funny? Spider-Man was known for not being able to keep his mouth shut and here he was: as mute as a corpse.
“Nothing to say?”
It was a kick in the ass he needed. Peter forced himself to speak despite how much it hurt. (The words stung like a knife cutting into skin and someone peeling back the skin.) “You don’t know me.”
Because being a friendly was different than being a doormat. Peter couldn’t blame Tony for not getting that though.
A lot of people didn’t. Even Frank, who had seen aspects of Spider-Man that most people didn’t get to see, couldn’t fully wrap his head around it.
……Well that and the neighborhood was New York. Really, did people think he was always going to stay-
Tony’s lips thinned. The skin under his eyes had always been dark. Now though? His eyebags were worse. Peter wondered if it was from this mess. He wondered if Tony had really been retired after all. (Shouldn’t he look better - not worse - after stepping down from the Avengers?) “I was the one who recruited you years ago. Just because I don’t send you a Christmas card doesn’t mean you get to pretend we don’t know each other.”
“I wouldn’t want one.”
“What?” Tony sounded almost startled.
Peter made a face. “I don’t celebrate it.”
It wasn’t just because he was Jewish. Peter wasn’t going to explain that though. Tony didn’t know him.
“Don’t tell me you’re planning to break and enter into all the houses of Whoville.”
“When did you watch the Grinch?” Peter couldn’t keep the incredulousness out of his voice. He had referenced the movie years ago and Tony had stared at him blankly. Peter had then realized Tony hadn’t ever seen the movie which had blown his mind because even Peter had seen it.
“……What rock do you live under?” Tony asked.
“Patrick’s,” Peter said, voice dripping with sarcasm.
Tony’s eyebrows drew together but he didn’t ask who Patrick was. “I have a daughter.”
Morgan Stark. Peter had only met her once. It had been at Tony’s funeral. She had been small. Brown hair like Tony’s. They hadn’t really talked - she had stayed close to Pepper and had hidden behind her mother when Pepper had spoken to him during the funeral - but he knew from Happy that she was a genius like her father.
“I’m not big with keeping up with tabloids.”
“The Daily Bugle turn you off of them?” Tony sounded genuinely curious. His voice had softened. It probably helped they were talking about something other than Damage Control. After all, the Department of Damage Control was something Tony had helped found.
“That and male podcasts,” Peter muttered. It was more than a quip than the truth. Peter didn’t like male podcasts because of the way they often spoke about women. James Jonah Jameson said horrible things about Spider-Man but there was, ironically, a lot of topics Peter agreed with his boss about.
Tony laughed. The sound made Peter feel warm. (He couldn’t remember the last time he had seen someone he was close to actually laugh. Yes, Ned laughed in his TikToks but watching those wasn’t the same thing as being in the same room as Ned.) He wanted to relax. Peter didn’t allow himself to.
Just because he had gotten Tony to laugh at one of his jokes didn’t change the fact he was here about Jean and Damage Control. As much as he wanted this moment to last, it wouldn’t.
It was like a bandaid. Better to rip it off than fuck around in pulling it off.
Or, as Frank would say, stop pussyfooting around, Daffodil.
“I’m not going to help you arrest Jean.”
Tony’s relaxed expression evaporated. He shot Peter a withering look. If Peter was younger, he might have stepped back. But Peter wasn’t younger. So he stood where he was and he didn’t backtrack.
“Everyone talks about how much you run your mouth. No one talks about how arrogant you are.” Tony told him, voice sharp once more. Peter tensed. His mouth twisted. Even if Tony had somehow missed it - he knew F.R.I.D.A.Y. wouldn’t. (Was it still F.R.I.D.A.Y. that Tony used?) “I don’t need your help in arresting Grey.”
“Then why are you here?” Peter asked instead of pointing out that Tony had needed him for Germany years ago. Captain America would be a lot easier to handle than Jean Grey. Surely, Tony knew that?
Tony was silent for a minute. That didn’t mean it was silent for Peter right now. He could hear the hot dogs sizzling as they were cooked, a man was listening to an episode of Magnus Archives as he jogged, there was a dog pissing on something, and, inside a car, someone was playing TV on the Radio.
“Since you’re not listening to reason? A heads up….not that you’ll listen to that either.” If Peter didn’t know better, he would have thought Tony was bitter.
“You gave it,” Peter told him. He jerked his head. It was a silent ‘get out of my face.’ He had wasted enough time on this conversation. “Now go home. You said it yourself. You’ve got a daughter.” Peter didn’t say Tony should be with her but Tony could notice what Peter was implying.
Tony’s eyes narrowed. “Stick to the ground, Spider-Man. It’ll keep you from being arrested.”
Peter shook his head. He raised his arm out. Twip. His web had landed on the skyscraper. Peter curled his fingers around the web and swung off the building.
It wasn’t like Tony was expecting at a goodbye after that conversation.
Apparently, Tony was done with the conversation because he didn’t follow Peter.
Peter let out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding.