Chapter Text
Tony was in his suit before the alert went off. He saw Peter come home, watched as his drunken aunt cornered him, and felt white-hot rage surge through him as she beat his kid. As a last-minute thought, he called another suit to follow. It was unlikely that May would go quietly, and he had no intention of calling the police so they could mess things up and pussyfoot around the issue.
Within five minutes, he’d gone from Manhattan to the Parkers apartment. Since he was already in the suit, he decided against taking the stairs and instead chose to make his presence known in typical Stark fashion. So, he and the Mark Five flew straight threw May’s bedroom window - which he didn’t feel guilty about what so ever. May had the nerve to look offended as Tony’s metal assistant restrained her, pulling her arms behind her back rougher than was strictly necessary and kept her pressed face-first against the wall.
As much as Tony didn’t want to, he bypassed the woman who’d caused his kid so much grief, only taking a second to order the suit to return to the Tower with May and wait in room A-One. He’d deal with her later. Right now, he needed to be there for Peter.
Hesitantly, he approached the injured teen and knelt in front of him. The poor kid was huddled in the corner, shaking violently and crying silently. Tony froze when he realized how much blood was on the floor; the top of Peter’s jeans just below his hip was soaked in the red liquid. Keeping his movements slow and his hands visible, Tony continued to approach him, stopping short when Peter whimpered and tried to push himself farther into the corner, away from him.
“Hey, bud… it’s o-okay.” He held his hands out in a gesture of surrender in hopes of calming the kid’s nerves which were very clearly shot. “It's Tony,” he lifted the faceplate to prove his point, forcing a strained smile, “I’m here to take you home. That sound good?”
Peter stared at the mechanic wearily, tears steadily pouring down his cheeks. It was clear he recognized Tony, but the clouded, distant look in his eyes worried him. After a few moments, the young vigilante nodded but remained in his spot on the dirty, red-stained floor. When it became clear he wasn’t going to move, Tony scooted closer and opened his arms. His knees would be aching tomorrow, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care.
“It’ll be alright, bambino, I won’t hurt you.”
Peter didn’t need any more prompting, and within a second, Tony had his arms full of a crying teenager.
Tony didn’t want to carry Peter in the Iron Man suit, with its cold, hard exterior that he felt would provide very little comfort. Still, it was the fastest way to get back to the Tower, and the billionaire was anything but patient, especially when it came to getting his son what he needed. He lifted the suit’s faceplate as he flew to get a better look at the tiny, frail, injured hero in his arms.
The smaller wounds looked like they were healing rather quickly despite Peter’s malnourished state. Some of the shallow cuts were already sealed, the new skin pink and fresh. But blood continued to slowly drip from his hip, the jagged shard of glass still embedded inside. Removing it would’ve only caused the wound to bleed more so the mechanic elected to leave it be for now.
“Hey, Underoos. You gotta stay awake for me, ‘kay.” He held the teen securely to his chest, weary of his injuries but unwilling to forfeit the comfort Peter desperately needed. “You’re safe, bud, everything’s going to be okay. Please stay awake.” Reassurance after reassurance left his lips as he desperately tried to give the boy some relief as well as calm himself. “You’re safe, you’re safe, I’m here.”
Peter laid his head on Tony’s shoulder; his arms wrapped tightly around his neck. He used his sticking powers on instinct to ensure he wouldn’t fall, even though he knew Tony would never let that happen. But it was also to make sure his mentor wouldn’t leave.
It might have been childish considering they were hundreds of feet in the air traveling at who knows how many miles an hour, but he felt safe with the Avenger, the man he’d looked up to since he was just a little boy. And, not just because Tony was a superhero or a billionaire or a genius, but because he stood up for what was right despite the challenges he faced or the backlash he got in return. Because under the metal suit of armor, he was just a man who never let that stop him.
As he touched down on the landing pad Peter’s eyes fluttered shut. The suit had barely disassembled from his body before he tore off through the tower. FRIDAY - bless her intuitiveness - had notified Bruce and Helen only seconds after the SSC alarm alerted them Peter was in danger.
“Boss, Dr. Banner, and Dr. Cho are set up and ready in the medical wing. They would like you to bring Peter to his room.” FRIDAY informed her creator as the elevator descended.
“Thanks, FRI,” Tony didn’t take his eyes off Peter, one hand cradling his head like you would a baby’s, “tell ‘em we’ll be down in a few seconds.”
The elevator opened up in the medical wing, an entire floor dedicated to being a hospital space. Hero work was dangerous, and more often than not, someone got hurt. Whether it was fixing a broken bone, needing stitches, or just grabbing an ice pack, it was comforting to have the supplies and equipment needed. Not to mention doctors who were very qualified and knew exactly what to do.
Bruce was waiting for them with a gurney and a team of nurses. Despite knowing Peter would be safe and well taken care of, Tony was reluctant to let go of the child in his arms.
“We’ll take care of him, Tony. Don’t worry.” Bruce prompted, gently transferring Peter from Tony’s arms to the gurney that was immediately whisked away. “You can wait outside of his room, and I’ll keep you updated on his condition.” He squeezed his friend’s shoulder in reassurance before dashing off to help Helen.
After a few minutes of just standing there, staring off at the wall, Tony made his way to the waiting area just outside of Peter’s room. He collapsed onto one of the chairs since his trembling legs threatened to give out on him at any second.
He hated that Peter had his own personal room in the med bay. The kid was incredibly skilled when it came to being Spider-Man, but he was so loyal and selfless that he often got hurt protecting the team or civilians. He would willingly give himself to save others, which made Tony so proud but also hurt him so much.
Peter’s metabolism doesn’t allow any sedatives or pain meds to work, so he’s had to go through stitches, bone setting, and removing bullets or, in cases of him being stabbed, knives with nothing to ease the pain. It destroyed everyone so much to hear him crying or begging for them to stop hurting him.
Helen, Shuri, and Bruce were working to make a sedative for him. Even if it didn’t last long, it would be better than nothing.
But, on the other hand, he was grateful a room was dedicated just to him. It provided privacy and was more comfortable than the standard hospital room. Peter’s bed, for instance, was larger than the average hospital bed because when he’s tired or in pain, Peter becomes an octopus in his search for comfort. He will latch onto one of his teammates - usually Tony - and won’t let go. His spider instincts kick in, and he uses his sticking powers so the human turned teddy bear quite literally can’t get him off. It was super cute if he was honest. The team thought so too, though few of them admitted it, and Sam often teased him for it.
“Tony,” Clint called as he and Natasha sprinted down the hallway to join the billionaire, “what happened? FRIDAY said you and Peter were here.”
“I… he’ s-he’s-“ Tony stammered incoherently, his thoughts a jumbled mess in his head.
“Where’s Peter?” Bucky snapped. “What the hell happened?” The ex-assassin, along with Steve and Rhodey, barreled down the hall, much like the two spies previously had. Rhodey was slower than the others, his leg braces clicking as he did his best to hurry.
FRIDAY had informed the team of Peter’s condition and his aunt being in one of their primary interrogation rooms, A-One. Tony ignored everyone in favor of staring at his hands, which were coated in blood, Peter’s blood.
“All of ya,” Rhodey snapped, catching the flustered heroes’ attention, “sit down and shut the hell up.” The group did as they were told and moved to various chairs around the room. “It’s okay, Tones?” Rhodey attempted to console him, gently rubbing his best friends back, “you got Pete here, and you know Bruce and Helen are more than capable. We’ll take care of everything else.”
He shared a brief nod with Natasha, who had a devilish smile on her face. She rose from her chair with such grace and poise, her eyes cold and dark. Everyone else followed her lead, faces stoic, and fists clenched.
“How are you feeling, Tones?” Rhodey asked once they were alone.
“What do you think?” Tony scuffed. “My kid’s unconscious and bloody because his aunt enjoyed using him as a punching bag.”
He didn’t mean to be snippy or rude, but he was so angry. Angry at May for being so ignorant and cruel, angry at the world for putting such a sweet, perfect kid through so much pain. But above all, he was angry at himself for not noticing sooner and doing something to stop the abuse, to save Peter.
Nearly an hour passed in tense silence. The only sound being Tony’s quiet sobs and FRIDAY’s occasional updates. Rhodey only stepped out once to speak to Clint and Steve.
“I don’t mean to shove this on you, man,” Rhodey sighed heavily and ran a hand down his face as he sat back down beside his best friend, “but you need to go down to the police station and get those adoption papers signed. It didn’t take long for May to cave.” Tony scuffed in response. “Putting it lightly, the team ripped her a new one. They had to take turns switching out so they wouldn’t deck her.” He paused before continuing, “Natasha and Clint are already at the Queens police station along with your lawyer. May’s there too… she’s agreed to give you full custody. They only need your signature.”
“I-“ Tony’s voice broke, “I can’t just leave him here.” He did not want Peter to wake up and be utterly alone in a hospital room.
They’d made that mistake once before when Peter had passed out from the pain of four gunshot wounds. No pain meds worked on him, so he woke up to an uncomfortable amount of pain and completely lost it when a nurse he didn’t recognize came to check on him.
“Bruce and I will be here.” Rhodey assured him. “Fly down in the suite, sign the adoption papers, then come right back. Natasha insisted she’d stay at the station and make sure ‘you know who’ is taken care of.”
Out of all the things he wanted to do right now, leaving Peter was not one of them. But it’d make the transition much easier if he signed the papers now. And he was optimistic he could make it back before Peter woke up. “Okay.” Shakily, he got to his feet, took a deep breath, and nodded. “I’ll be right back.”
Natasha, Clint, and Mr. Murdock, Tony’s lawyer, were waiting in the sheriff’s office.
May was seated in the corner of the room; her hands cuffed to the armrests. The woman looked terrified. Her entire body trembled, and her hands shook uncontrollably. She kept shooting worried looks in Natasha’s direction but would jerk her head away the moment the spy glanced her way. Tony felt nothing but satisfaction at the woman’s obvious discomfort.
“Hello, Mr. Stark.” The young woman with long red hair and badge on her chest stood from behind her desk. “My name is Ms. Gordon, chief of police.” They shook hands briefly before she directed his attention towards the forms spread out across her desk. “Mr. Murdock has filled me in on the basics of the situation and Mrs. Parker,” she gestured to the woman cowering in the corner, “has confessed to her acts of child abuse and neglect of her nephew Peter Parker.” She must have noticed the billionaire tense and was quick to continue. “I assure you that no one other than myself and anyone in this room knows of your intent on adopting, and I have no intention of spreading the word. So, your secret is safe with me.”
“Thank you.” Tony’s shoulders sagged in relief. “What about-“ he nodded towards the cuffed woman.
“She is going to be kept in solitary until she is sentenced. Once we have a verdict, I will personally make sure no information is leaked.”
Once again, Tony nodded and expressed his thanks, genuinely grateful for Ms. Gordon’s professionalism and support. He moved over and sat beside his Mr. Murdock, who instructed him on what to sign.
“Sign here to gain full custody and here to acknowledge that you are willing to take full responsibility for a minor.” He placed the last form in front of the billionaire, “one last signature is required for adoption. You have already been approved to house a child, and with Mr. Parker’s previous guardian being unfit to care for him, you immediately gain legal and adoptive rights of Peter Benjamin Parker.”
A rush of satisfaction, excitement, and relief washed over Tony as he sighed his name one final time. It was done.
Mr. Murdock shook the billionaire’s hand, “congratulations, Mr. Stark, you are now a father.”
Peter awoke to a dull throbbing pain emanating from his hip. The gauze was wrapped taut around his shoulder and lower abdomen with thicker bandages covering his throbbing hip. A heart monitor was attached to his finger, and an IV was stuck in the back of his left hand. There wasn’t any blood, just a soft white blanket, beige walls, and the low steady beeping of machinery. The room, which he recognized as his own in the med bay, didn’t scream sterile hospital, which he was immensely grateful for. He tried to shift into a comfier position but found himself unable to because of the body lying next to him.
Tony was completely out, snoring softly against Peter’s uninjured shoulder, one hand clinging to his hospital gown. Not wanting to disrupt his mentor’s much-needed sleep, he just settled back down. The contact was comforting, and he accepted it eagerly.
“Kак ты себя чувствуешь, дорогой?” (How do you feel, sweetheart) Natasha whispered from her seat beside the bed. There was nothing but love and concern in her voice. She ran her fingers through his now clean curls.
“Намного лучше.” (Much better) The motion was soothing, and he leaned into her touch.
“That’s good.” Her voice cracked, and her lower lip began trembling; the tears followed right after. “Мне очень жаль, мой милый ребенок." (I’m sorry, my sweet child) For the first time in years, the ever stoic spy allowed herself to break down. “I can’t have children,” she whimpered, gently taking Peter’s small hand in her own. “Having children was never a goal of mine,” she shook her head, “but then you swung, quite literally, into our lives. You’re my little boy, Pete. Ты мой малыш, паучок.” (You’re my baby Spider)
“You know… I can’t have kids either,” he said, squeezing her hand as they made eye contact, “My body, everything about me… is completely radioactive. So, I can’t have kids, it just wouldn’t work.” He explained softly, matching Natasha’s voice level. “But I would never bring a kid into this life, biological or not. Too dangerous… you know. I mean, you drink a cup of tea, and all of a sudden you’re paralyzed.” Natasha giggled at that, ruffling Peter’s curls as he smiled. “And ya know what?”
She pursed her lips and looked at him curiously. “What?”
“Я рад, что ты моя мамочка-паучиха.” (I’m glad I have you as my momma spider)
Natasha didn’t say anything. No words could describe how thankful and loved she felt. She just pulled Peter into her chest and held him in a loose hug, slowly running her fingers through his fluffy hair. The two spider-themed Avengers held each other as they cried tears of joy. They only released each other when Tony began to stir.
“Увидимсяпозже,мой малыш-паучок.” (I’ll see you later, my baby spider) Natasha whispered as she got up to leave, placing a soft kiss to Peter’s temple. Peter closed his eyes, a smile gracing his lips.
“Окей, мамочка." (Okay, momma)
Tony became fully conscious just moments after Natasha’s exit. He wasn’t groggy or sloppy in his movements, like most sleep-deprived people would be. He shot up upon seeing Peter awake and coherent.
“Hey, Underoos. How are you feeling?” Parental instincts took over as he made sure Peter wasn’t uncomfortable in any way. He began rambling nervously, unsure of exactly what to do. “Does anything hurt? Are you hungry or warm enough?” He sat up and looked the teen up and down urgently, “you want water? I can get another pillow or-“
“Tony.” Peter laughed. “I’m fine. My hip is a little sore, but other than that… I’m okay.”
The billionaire let out a relieved sigh, his shoulders sagging. “Good! That-that’s good. I uh… I um want you to know that-that you’re staying here. Okay? You don’t gotta worry about your aunt anymore. I’m going to take care of you, along with the rest of your insane aunts and uncles.”
“Okay.” Peter’s voice grew thick with tears, exhaustion pulling him down as the realization that he was now safe settled over him. “Thank you. Really, Tony… I-I can’t tell you how mu-much this means to me.”
“No need to thank me, kiddo.”
He helped lay Peter back down and pulled the cotton blanket up to his chin. “I’d do anything for you.” He caressed Peter’s face in his calloused hands, rubbing his thumbs across the smooth skin beneath his beautiful brown eyes. “I love you, bambino… so much.”
Peter leaned into the comforting touch, his eyes falling shut as sleep drew him in. But before he allowed himself to succumb to sleep altogether, he grabbed Tony’s hand and mumbled out a quiet ‘stay’. And of course, the older average obliged. Carefully, so as not to jostle the injured teen, he laid back against the mattress and draped his arm over the boy’s thin chest. Without a second thought, Peter tucked himself against his father figure’s chest, listening to his heartbeat and clinging tightly to the worn AC/DC shirt.
“I love you, Peter. You’ll always be safe with me.” Tony affirmed, placing a kiss to the brown curls tickling his chin. Peter hummed and snuggled impossibly closer in response, a smile on his lips as he finally allowed himself to rest.