Chapter Text
CHAPTER NOTES
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This chapter contains scene dividers by finem00 and the last wonderful piece of art for this story created by shoyzz-art.
As soon as the program on the stick loaded, Tony could see it was picking up on signatures, starting to list all the active bots inside Peter’s body. There were a lot. His stomach twisted just a little more with every line that got added to the list. It was more than the 30 he had suspected at the beginning. Thankfully, the list stopped after the 53rd entry.
“What happens when we shut them off?” May asked, looking between him and Helen. She was sitting by Peter’s bed, her hand grasping his tightly. “Will they just … stay inside him?”
“I would assume,” Helen answered, “that his body will slowly start to get rid of the bots, breaking them down over time.”
Tony looked at his laptop screen and then back at Peter’s bed. “I wouldn’t be so sure. He had a fever when his body first realized that something was off, but it went away. These things managed to convince his immune system that they were supposed to be there. It won’t break them down.” He sighed. “But once they’re deactivated, we can think about what to do next. There shouldn’t be any harm in them staying where they are. I can change the activation code and nobody will be able to switch them on again. It’s an interim solution, but it should work.”
Helen nodded.
Tony looked at May. “I think that’s all of them,” he said. May nodded at him, her fingers squeezing Peter’s hand. Tony clicked ‘Deactivate’ and a small window popped up, asking for the deactivation code. While Tony entered it, he felt nausea crawl up his throat, a fear that they didn’t have the right code, that Ramsey had tricked them, that he was possibly making things worse … he clicked ‘Enter’.
The status of the bots changed, switching over to ‘Deactivated’ one after another. They remained silent while it happened, staring at Peter as if the mere deactivation would cause him to open his eyes.
It wasn’t that easy.
“I’ll feed this program to FRIDAY,” Tony said. “Let her run diagnostics on whether it actually worked.”
Helen nodded. “Okay, so we wait until that happens. If he stabilizes any further, we will get him out of the coma and then we need to see what kind of damage the brain hemorrhage left behind.”
May looked at her. “How bad do you think it is?”
“Hard to say,” Helen answered. “He’s got that healing factor but he’s weak, so recovery will still take a while.”
“But he’ll be okay,” May said. “Right?”
Helen pressed her lips together. “The brain’s a complicated thing. I can’t make any promises, May.”
May looked at Tony and reached over to take his hand.
Tony and May didn’t move from Peter’s room the whole night, taking turns napping on the recliner, though neither of them were able to rest properly. FRIDAY was able to confirm that the bots in Peter’s system were deactivated in the early hours of the morning and Helen decided to let Peter come out of the coma, starting to gradually wean him off the medication.
Throughout the day, the Avengers came to visit – either alone or in pairs – sitting with Tony and May and keeping up conversation while they waited for Peter to wake. Time passed faster with the distraction of them coming around and Tony was glad for it. Waiting for Peter to wake up was harder than he had thought. He felt like time was crawling by and with every minute, he felt his anxiety rise. He’d looked up brain hemorrhages on his phone while they had waited, every link he clicked leading to another, even scarier scenario. He’d stopped himself after a while, but the knowledge remained, burnt into his mind, the possibility of Peter losing the ability to remember things, to recognize people, to understand speech, the risk of his personality changing … it was too much to think about, too hard to even consider.
And the guilt, the guilt was still sitting heavy on Tony’s chest, the knowledge that this wouldn’t have happened if he hadn’t given Ross the specs …
“Hey, baby.” May’s soft voice brought him out of his thoughts and he lifted his head, looking at her leaning closer to the bed, her hand cupping Peter’s cheek. “Hey, baby,” she repeated and there were tears in her voice.
Tony hurried around the bed to look at him, finding Peter awake and blinking at them in confusion. His jaw moved around the tube in his throat and Tony noticed an increase in Peter’s heartbeat, the monitor beeping just a little bit faster. “It’s okay,” he said. “It’s just the respirator.”
Peter’s eyes drooped closed again, his expression going slack. May kept stroking her thumb over his cheek, making soothing noises whenever Peter’s eyebrows twitched together until he calmed and fell back asleep.
Peter woke up several more times during the evening and night, becoming more and more lucid each time, though he fell back asleep quickly.
May was taking a nap and Tony was answering a message from Pepper when he felt a tentative touch on his arm. He turned his head and saw Peter looking back at him. “Hey, buddy,” he said, putting his phone aside to turn to face him, taking Peter’s hand in a gentle grip. During the last few times he had woken up and become more lucid, they’d noticed that the touch seemed to calm him.
In the afternoon sun streaming through the window, Peter looked exhausted and pale, dark shadows under his eyes, but something was different about the way he looked at Tony, as if he was for the first time really there. The ventilator pushed air into his lungs and Peter’s eyes widened, his other hand coming up to touch the place where the tube rested on his lips.
“It’s okay,” Tony said gently. “Helen said they might remove it tonight. You won’t have to deal with it much longer.”
Peter’s hand fell onto his chest. He stared at Tony with wide, dark eyes and raised his hand to the tube again. There was no sign in his gaze that he’d understood Tony’s previous words, just a frightened look.
Tony felt a heavy weight settle on his chest, dread curling in his stomach. “Did you understand me?” he asked, but he didn’t give Peter the chance to indicate an answer. “It’s okay, they’re going to remove it soon.”
Peter’s hand dropped again and his fingers in Tony’s hand twitched. Tony squeezed them gently. He huffed a relieved laugh when Peter squeezed back shakily.
“There you are,” he said. He felt heat burn in his eyes and blinked the tears away before they could fall. “You made it, kid,” he said softly.
3 days later
“What is that?” Clint asked in disgust, peeking at the green goo that was simmering on the stove.
Scott nudged him aside none too gently, using a wooden spoon to stir. “Broccoli soup.”
“Broccoli soup?” Clint echoed and pulled a face. “Why do you hate us, man?”
Scott glared at him. “This happens to be one of my top ten dishes.”
“Why are you making soup? It’s summer.”
“Well, we had broccoli,” Scott answered.
“Like that’s a reason,” Clint grumbled and grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge. He looked at the others, who were scattered around the communal area. “Dinner sucks, who wants to order pizza?”
“Hey!” Scott protested.
Rhodey, sitting at the dining table, barely looked up from the screen of his laptop. “Freeze it. We’ll eat it when we get desperate enough.”
Scott put his hands on his hips, huffing a breath. “I slaved away in the kitchen for hours. And you won’t eat it?”
Sam pulled a face, momentarily distracted from whatever reality show he was watching with Natasha and Steve. “Come on, Scott, you actually would rather eat that than pizza?”
Scott grumbled a no and turned off the stove.
“Great,” Clint said, taking out his phone. “I’ll order in.”
May seemed to take pity on Scott. “I think the broccoli soup was a great idea. We could tell Peter that’s his dinner. Tease him a bit.”
Clint couldn’t help but grin at that. “You have the best ideas, May.”
Natasha chuckled. “Don’t be cruel. He just got out of hospital.”
Steve looked around. “Where is he anyway?”
May laughed. “Where do you think?”
“Okay,” Mr. Stark said, double-checking the wiring in the web-shooter and pushing the small container holding the tiny screws a little closer to Peter. “Good job, you can close it up.”
Peter shifted in his wheelchair, leaning over to try and pick one of the screws up, but his hand shook so badly that he withdrew it with a noise of frustration, cradling it against his chest until the shakes started to subside.
“It’s okay,” Mr. Stark said. “Take your time.” He took a sip of coffee. “Or take an out, whatever you prefer.”
Peter considered taking him up on his offer. He’d been down in the lab with Mr. Stark for over two hours, taking a web-shooter apart and exchanging some of the wires. He was by now pretty sure that the work wasn’t actually necessary, the wires were all fine, and had come to the conclusion that Mr. Stark was trying to train his fine motor skills. He was good about it, letting Peter decide every step of the way whether Mr. Stark should take over and complete some of the harder tasks. It was still frustrating, though, considering that having steady hands had been one of his strengths even before the spider bite. Now, his right hand was far from steady, tremors making it difficult for him to do things which had come naturally to him before the bots. His legs were just as affected. Walking wasn’t an option for him at the moment. Not without support. Helen had told him that his body would recover, eventually, and he knew that he was actually quite lucky to have come out the other side relatively unscathed.
Matt hadn’t.
Peter felt a stab of grief at the thought … and guilt, too. Matt had died because Peter had gotten infected and Peter had gotten infected out of stupidity.
Mr. Stark’s hand landed on his shoulder, shaking him gently. “Are you spiraling again?” he asked softly.
Peter swallowed. “Yeah,” he admitted.
Mr. Stark’s hand squeezed his shoulder. “Stop it.”
Peter looked up at him and Mr. Stark smiled sadly, pushing the container with screws closer. Peter tried to pick up one of them again and succeeded, though his hand shook as he moved it to cling to the magnetic screwdriver. He managed to screw it in, though, his shoulders relaxing in relief when it was done, even though it had taken much longer than it would have just a few days ago. Mr. Stark kept watching him the entire time, his face neutral. Sometimes, Peter was able to catch him looking sad or angry, but he kept those emotions hidden away carefully most of the time.
Peter had the suspicion that Mr. Stark was spiraling, too.
“Hey guys,” Rhodey said, poking his head through the doorway. “Clint’s ordering pizza, so dinner’s in half an hour or so.”
“Perfect,” Mr. Stark answered. “We’ll be done by then.”
Peter busied himself picking up the second screw, but his hand cramped again and he pushed away from the workstation. “I want an out.”
“Okay,” Mr. Stark said.
Peter liked that he didn’t try to pressure him into doing things. It made for a nice change from his physical therapy. He’d had the first session this morning and the therapist was friendly but unrelenting, and even though Peter knew that it was kind of her job, he still felt exhausted and frustrated afterwards. Rhodey, who’d had his session before Peter and had stayed to keep him company, was the only one who knew he felt that way, though. Peter didn’t want to worry May or bother Mr. Stark. He knew that the both of them were ecstatic about his progress over the last couple of days. He didn’t want to drag them down. It had helped to talk to Rhodey about it, though.
Mr. Stark put the rest of the screws in and looked at Peter, his brow furrowing. “You okay?”
Peter nodded. “My hand’s just tired.”
“We’re done for the day anyway,” Mr. Stark said, smiling. “And we probably won’t have time tomorrow with Lila’s birthday party and the barbeque.”
Peter rubbed his wrist. “I’m going home the day after tomorrow.”
“I know,” Mr. Stark answered. “You’ll have to bring your suit next time you come around.” He took the handles of Peter’s wheelchair, pushing him towards the freight elevator at the far end of the room. It was a bit of a detour to get upstairs, but Peter wasn’t strong enough for the stairs yet and after the awkward embarrassment of having Steve carry him down when he’d come here for the first time after his release the day before, Peter preferred it.
“Yeah,” he answered non-committedly, not sure what else to say. Peter didn’t really want to go back to New York, but May had to return to work and he also didn’t want to leave her so shortly after everything that had happened. Besides, Mr. Stark had mentioned that Miss. Potts would be back from her business trip soon and he didn’t want to be in the way.
The freight elevator let them out at the side of the house and Tony pushed Peter around the corner to reach the entrance door.
“There you are,” May said when they reached the communal area.
“What’s that smell?” Mr. Stark asked, letting go of the wheelchair handles to look into the pot on the stove.
“Broccoli soup,” Scott said grumpily. “Don’t comment on it.” With that, he held his head up high and walked over to the dining room table to sit.
May crouched down by the wheelchair and brushed one hand through Peter’s hair. “Are you okay, honey?” she asked. “You look sad.”
Peter shook his head. “I’m fine,” he answered.
“You sure?”
He nodded, forcing a smile.
Her hand cupped his cheek, her thumb brushing just under his eye. “If you say so.”
May leaned back in her chair, soaking in the sun bathing the terrace in a warm light and breathing in the fresh air and the smell of barbeque. Clint’s older kids Lila and Cooper were chasing around the grass with Scott’s daughter Cassie in tow, playing some variation of catch that May didn’t quite understand, while Clint was holding his little son Nathan who was busy doing a toddler puzzle with Natasha.
May was sad that she had to return to New York tomorrow. The Compound was surrounded by woods and mountains and Sam had mentioned that there were some trails nearby that allowed gorgeous views. She didn’t get out of the city nearly enough. The last time they’d had a proper family vacation – her, Peter and Ben – they’d gone to Fahnestock State Park for a couple of days when Peter had been ten. But they needed her back at work, so they had to leave.
Or at least May did.
She looked towards the parasol, under which Clint’s wife Laura had taken refuge from the sun with Scott. Next to them, May found Tony and Peter sitting close to each other and looking at something on Tony’s tablet. Peter had seemed quiet and pensive since dinner the night before, clearly mulling something over. May knew that it wouldn’t do to push him to talk. Peter was someone who needed to think about some things himself, work out all the angles, before he opened up. Sometimes, he didn’t open up at all, him switching back to his normal behavior the only indication that he’d worked his problems out himself.
This time, May had a suspicion what was wrong, though.
“You can take the boys out of the workshop but you can’t take the workshop out of the boys,” Rhodey said, settling into the chair next to her.
May chuckled. “Seems that way.” She knew that, if Peter was able to walk steadily, he would probably be running around with Clint’s kids and Cassie. Peter had a talent to connect with kids, sometimes babysitting their neighbors’ twins when both of them had to work at the same time.
“Did you know there was a bet going on that Peter is actually Tony’s biological son when he first arrived here?”
May laughed. “Really?”
Rhodey grinned. “Yeah. I mean, you gotta look at it this way: Tony was always alright with kids. You know, little fans walking up to him, wanting a picture, that kind of stuff. But he never spent time with kids. And suddenly, he announces out of the blue that there’s a kid staying at the Compound for a week.”
“Didn’t know he kept Peter that much of a secret.”
“I knew he was going to New York on a regular basis. I always assumed he was meeting up with Spider-Man.”
“You weren’t wrong.” She sighed, looking back at Tony and Peter. “You know, when I told people that Peter got an internship with Tony, they told me to turn it down.”
Rhodey looked at her in surprise. “They did?”
“I wasn’t sure myself whether I should allow it,” she said. “Peter’s a sensitive age, he didn’t have a guy in his life to look up to and as much as I hate it, there are things he probably doesn’t want to talk about with me. I wasn’t sure whether it was the best idea to let him spend time with a guy who spent most of his twenties and thirties chasing models and drinking alcohol.” She looked at Peter. “But it was a tremendous opportunity,” she said. “So I allowed it.” She raised her eyebrows. “Then I found out that Peter wasn’t doing an actual internship but spent the time he always claimed he was with Tony jumping off buildings and swinging through the streets.”
Rhodey chuckled. “Must have been quite the shock.”
“I wanted to kill him,” May said. “I thought that all he cared about was Spider-Man.”
“I don’t blame you,” Rhodey said. “That was probably the reason he got into touch with Peter.” He paused, looking towards them, engrossed in whatever they were looking at. Tony had put one arm around Peter’s shoulders so they could huddle closer together. “It’s not just that anymore, though, and I think that’s a good thing … for both of them.”
“Yeah,” May answered thoughtfully. “It is.”
Steve was in the kitchen putting left-overs in Tupperware boxes, when Tony entered. “The kids demand ice cream,” he said, “and by kids I mean Clint, Scott and Sam.”
Steve chuckled while Tony got the tub out of the freezer and set it out to thaw a little. There was a pause during which Tony switched on the coffee machine and placed a mug under the nozzle and Steve wrangled Tupperware into the full fridge.
“I was thinking,” Tony said then, “of sending Vis a message, see whether he and Wanda would like to come back.”
Steve paused, looking at him in surprise. “I thought you were out of contact.”
“We are,” Tony answered. “His transponder’s off but I can send him messages.” He sipped his coffee. “We should see that we get the team back together,” he continued. “Prepare for when the amendments are dealt with. Think about … what we want to do as a team from now on. How we want to work together.”
“We,” Steve said, raising his eyebrows in question.
“We,” Tony confirmed. He shrugged. “I might not put on the suit again but … it’s not a hard no anymore.”
Steve closed the fridge and crossed his arms. “Glad to hear that.”
“And when the team is back together, when the amendments are done, when we think about recruiting, maybe … you could check in with T’Challa. Check up on Barnes. See … whether he might want to join as well.”
Steve was caught by surprise. “Tony, you don’t have to-”
“Maybe,” Tony said quickly. “Haven’t made up my mind yet.” He looked at Steve. “I’ll think about it some more.”
“That’s okay,” Steve answered. He swallowed, hesitating before he asked, “Why the change of heart?”
“I told Ross that Peter’s an Avenger.”
Steve frowned quizzically. “Okay.”
Tony sighed and admitted, “He knows Peter’s Spider-Man. And he more or less told me that the DODC will recruit him as soon as he’s old enough so I …”
“You want to protect him.”
Tony nodded, sipping on his coffee. “I mean, technically, Peter is an Avenger,” he said. “I offered. Just because he turned me down doesn’t mean-”
“He turned you down?” Steve asked in disbelief, laughing.
Tony rolled his eyes. “Yes, I’m sore about it. Don’t laugh.”
Steve seemed to have trouble stifling his laughter and an amused grin remained on his face.
“He made a mature choice,” Tony said. “Of wanting to wait until he’s old enough. I respect that.”
“But you’re still sore.”
“Of course I’m sore,” Tony answered, exasperated. “It’s the Avengers. Don’t all kids these days want to be one?”
Steve shrugged. “You got a special kid there.”
“Yeah,” Tony said with a sigh. “I know.”
May joined them, smiling at Steve in greeting before she turned to Tony. “Can we talk?”
He frowned. “Sure.” He figured that May wanted some privacy and with the terrace door open and everyone flitting in and out of the house, the communal area wasn’t exactly the right place. “My office?”
She nodded and followed him down the corridor.
“What can I do for you?” Tony asked and closed the door, gesturing to the two chairs by the window.
May settled into one of them, sparing a glance at the group on the terrace and the kids running around before she looked at him. “Do you think you might be able to keep Peter for another week?”
“Another week?” Tony asked.
“Only if you want to,” May said quickly. “It’s just … the two of you didn’t really get to spend the week together like you planned and I think he’s pretty disappointed that we’re leaving tomorrow.”
“I thought you would want him home,” Tony said carefully, trying not to show how much he wanted to agree.
“I want him home,” May answered. “But I’ll be working and his friends are on vacation. He’s bound to be home alone all day except for his PT appointments and I don’t want that. I can’t take any more vacation, either. I think this is actually the best solution.” She looked at him. “If it’s okay with you.”
“Yes,” Tony said. “Of course.”
May smiled. “Great.”
Tony nodded.
May got up and headed for the door.
“May,” Tony said, stopping her in her tracks.
She turned around to him.
“I may …” He swallowed. “Maybe I’ll take him to the movies sometime or … to the mall or maybe on one of the trails if he feels up for it. Just … you know … to get out of the Compound for a little while.”
May pressed her lips together. “I think he would like that.”
“Thank you,” he said, hesitating for a long moment before he added, “I am actually glad you asked, I … wasn’t going to, I didn’t want to impose, I just … this … means a lot.”
May looked at him, her expression melting into a smile, then she came back and wrapped him into a hug. “Thank you.”
Peter gripped the parallel bars tight and pulled himself out of the chair, biting his lip when his left leg started to tremble. He walked forward despite that, using the parallel bars to support himself. It was exhausting and it took a long while, the silence in the gym only interrupted by his unsteady steps, but Peter was able to get from one side to the other, slumping a little when he’d reached it.
He had never thought that walking ten steps could be so difficult.
Then he realized that the wheelchair was still where he’d left it, all the way back at the other end of the parallel bars. “Crap.”
“That’s why you shouldn’t be doing this alone,” May said behind him.
Peter ducked his head. “Crap,” he repeated.
“Busted,” May answered as she pushed the wheelchair over to him and pulled the brakes. She helped him sit down and then braced her hands on the armrests of his chair to lean in close. “You had PT today already. Don’t overdo it.”
“I didn’t manage to do this during PT,” Peter answered. “I thought I could give it another try.”
“Rhodey is going to be disappointed that his PT buddy went off on his own.”
Peter cracked a smile. “But I managed.”
May smiled as well and leaned in to press a kiss to his forehead. “You managed.” She crouched down in front of the chair. “We’ll have you jumping off buildings again in no time.” She took a breath, her expression turning serious. “Peter, I talked to Tony a couple of minutes ago and we agreed that you should stay here a little longer.”
Peter stared at her. “Stay?”
“Yes. Instead of going back home with me tomorrow,” she answered.
“So you’d be going back to New York alone?” he asked.
May nodded. “For a week,” she added.
Peter bit his lip, undecided. It wasn’t that he wasn’t happy at the prospect of staying at the Compound longer. The problem was that he didn’t want May to go back to New York alone. He knew that she’d been scared and that she still worried about him. The distance wouldn’t be easy on her.
She noticed his hesitation. “Listen, baby, I’ll be working anyway. I don’t want you to roam the apartment all day alone. I know Ned is still on vacation with his family. You would have company here. And you could spend more time with Tony.” She frowned. “Except of course if you really don’t want to stay-”
“I want to stay,” Peter said quickly. “I just … don’t want you to be alone.”
May’s expression melted. She leaned in to pull him into a hug. “I’ll be fine,” she said.
It was long after Clint’s family had left, late in the evening when the air was turning just a little bit colder and the wind picked up a bit to brush through the trees. Peter found Mr. Stark perched on one of the recliners outside, sipping on a beer.
“Hey,” he said, moving the chair over the threshold with a push of the wheels.
Mr. Stark reached out to slow the momentum and pulled Peter a little closer. “Hey.”
“May told me earlier,” Peter said. “About staying longer.”
Mr. Stark’s eyes caught his. “I hope it’s okay with you.”
“With me?” Peter asked. “I hope it’s okay with you. I know that Miss. Potts is coming home soon and you’re busy with the Avengers and with working on equipment.”
Mr. Stark shrugged. “I’m always busy working on equipment and there’s no rush. I’m asking Happy to bring your suit back when he takes May home tomorrow and we can work on that as well. And concerning Pepper,” Mr. Stark added, “she wanted to meet you anyway.”
“She did?” Peter asked, his eyes widening. “That’s so awesome.”
Mr. Stark frowned. “Careful, you almost sound more enthusiastic about spending time with her than about spending time with me.”
“Well …,” Peter answered teasingly, drawing the word out.
Mr. Stark gasped. “You wound me.”
“She is amazing, though, Mr. Stark. She’s the CEO of a major tech company and everyone said she wouldn’t be able to do it but now, she’s totally doing it, and she’s doing a lot for underprivileged kids and she’s just funny and … amazing.”
“Careful, Casanova,” Mr. Stark said with a grin. “Your crush is showing.”
Peter felt his cheeks flush in embarrassment. “My friend MJ thinks she’s really cool.”
“Well, maybe I can arrange for your friend MJ to meet Pepper one day as well. And me. ‘Cause, you know, certified superhero here.”
Peter grimaced.
“What’s that face?” Mr. Stark asked, frowning.
“MJ’s kinda … not so into you.”
Mr. Stark raised his eyebrows.
“Because of the weapons division.”
“Which I shut down.”
“Which is why she doesn’t hate you. She just … disapproves.”
Mr. Stark huffed a laugh. “She sounds like a real charmer.”
“She is,” Peter answered and felt his cheeks flush even more. He quickly averted his eyes, when he caught Mr. Stark’s grin widen.
“Oh, I see,” he drawled.
“What?”
“Nothing. I just don’t think I need to be worried about you coming between me and Pepper.”
Peter shrugged and looked towards the forest. “If you’re really fine with me staying, Mr. Stark, I’d love to.”
“Glad to hear it.”
Peter smiled at him. “And we can totally work on my suit. I’ve got loads of ideas.”
“I’d like to hear them,” Mr. Stark answered. He seemed to hesitate for a moment before he added, “And I was thinking … maybe the two of us can catch a movie sometime this week.”
“A movie?” Peter asked, confused.
“Or have dinner. Go window shopping at the mall. Whatever you kids do to have fun these days.”
Peter kneaded his hands nervously. He had never really spent time with Mr. Stark outside of Spider-Man stuff. The only exception had been playing on the PS4 a few days ago and even then, they’d discussed his grades and extracurricular activities and MIT. “That sounds cool, Mr. Stark.”
“Of course it does,” he answered. “It was my idea.” He smiled at Peter, something soft and relaxed in his expression. “So,” he said, “wanna give me a preview on those update ideas you have?”
Peter grinned. “How much time do you have?”
Mr. Stark leaned back in his chair. “As long as you need, kid.”
END
April 2020