Chapter Text
“Uh.” Tony’s footsteps stuttered to a stop after looking up from his tablet and seeing a brown haired gangle of limbs slumped over one of the work tables. “Kid?”
The slouched shoulders shrugged sleepily, more muscle memory than a true reaction, and a muffled voice mumbled incoherently as the boy roused.
“What are you doing here, bud?”
Tired eyes blinked up at him, then widened frantically as the kid froze in space.
“M-Mr. Stark! Oh my gosh, it’s morning- I can’t believe I fell asleep!” His hands flew up to grip his hair.
“Jesus, Pete, you were here the whole night? I told you to take off when Pep called me away for the SI earnings call.”
“I know, I was going to! I just- I was so close to a breakthrough for my web fluid 5.0 that I just… I figured you wouldn’t notice- uh, mind if I stuck around to keep working on it, and then it was really late and I must have put my head down for a minute-”
“Alright, alright, calm down. You’re not in trouble- well, not with me at least. Probably another story with Aunt Hottie.” Peter’s face pinched into a frown at the nickname.
“Mr. Stark, no.” He admonished. Then his eyes dropped to the work table in front of him and the teen started hurriedly shuffling his notes that were spread across the surface into a messy pile. “And, uh, what she doesn’t know doesn’t hurt her, right? She’s been pulling some double shifts at the hospital for some overtime so, so, I would have just been home working on it anyway. So this is, like, same difference, you know?” The kid’s rambling tapered off, shoulders tense, as he started stuffing his notes and pencils back into this backpack, pointedly not looking up at his mentor.
Huh, May was pulling double shifts? Were… she and the kid struggling? How often was Peter coming home to an empty house after patrol? He didn’t blame May: if she was doing it, she had to be doing it for Peter… but Tony realized in that moment how little he knew about the struggles of a single income blue collar parent. Other than the spider-suit, the kid had always been very hesitant to accept generosity from Tony, waving away his offers with a smile, so he’d never really gotten the sense that they were in a bad way… But then again, Peter was the walking personification of humility and self-sacrifice; maybe he shouldn’t have been surprised. Tony watched Peter clean his work station with a clouded expression.
“You hungry?” he finally blurted. Peter jumped and stared at him, eyes wide.
“Um-”
“Course you are. I was about to meet Rhodey for breakfast, why don’t you come along?”
“Uhhh,” Peter blanched. “With… with War Machine? I-I don’t want to intrude-”
“Nonsense. Rhodey’s been dying to see you again anyway, you barely got to talk the first time.” Tony strolled past the kid to his own work station further into the lab and set his tablet down. Peter’s eyes followed him, narrowing with confusion.
“Me? Why? I’m just some ki-” The vigilante paled. “Wait, does he know who I am?!”
“No, kid, relax.” Tony rolled his eyes and swiped the design he’d been working on from his tablet to the 3D display above his work table, casually tapping through data transfer protocols until the new shoulder piece was visualized in a holographic that he tapped to expand. “Well, not yet at least.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Peter squeaked.
Tony turned to the younger hero, leaning against the table on one arm with an eyebrow raised, his goatee twitching like he was trying to hide a smirk.
“I don’t exactly take internships from highschoolers on the regular, Underoos. Rhodey’s known me since I was doing keg stands at MIT, he’s seen my full evolution, let’s call it, from playboy douchebag to Earth’s mightiest hero-”
“That’s actually Thor, probably.” Peter muttered, but shut up at Tony’s sharp glare.
“-and you’re a- you’re a whole new evolutionary period… era… phase… whatever, you get the metaphor. Point is, he’s not taking you at face-value.”
Peter’s packed and zipped schoolbag now sat on top of his workstation where he hugged it to his chest nervously, peering over it at the billionaire.
“Is he- he doesn’t believe you? That I’m your intern?” Tony glanced away from adjusting a calculation in the 3D alloy composition table to shoot him a deadpan look.
“He knows me too well, kid. I’ve never had an intern, never wanted one. Then you just appear from out of nowhere? His running theory is that you’re some illegitimate child from a past fling that was sprung on me.” Peter erupted into spluttering coughs and a stammered mess of consonants.
“Wh-wh- tha- no- he can’t- that’s- that’s crazy.” The teen’s anxious laughter was high pitched and thin. Tony just shrugged.
“What’s crazier, that my past caught up with me or that my soft spoken intern is Spider-Man?” Peter swallowed thickly and looked away. Tony sighed. “I’ve been deflecting but I haven’t really confirmed or denied because if I deny it, then he’ll move onto the next theory. Rhodey’s smart, he’s quite literally a rocket scientist, and he’ll eventually put two and two together.”
Trying to act casual as he played with some settings on the 3D design, Tony watched Peter frown at the floor. “You can trust Rhodey, you know.” He continued, tone nonchalant, but sure. Peter looked up at him, expression vulnerable. “There’s no one I trust more, besides Pep and Happy, who already know about you.”
“I- I know, Mr. Stark. Colonel Rhodes is a good person, and he stood by you when no one else did, so it’s not that I wouldn’t trust him with it, I just…” He looked down at his hands where they had started picking at an old robotics team patch he’d used to cover a rip in the canvas of his backpack. The teen vigilante sighed deeply and looked off to the side, then back to his mentor.
“Can I think about it?”
“‘Course.” Tony nodded and turned off the display, clapping his hands together. “In the meantime, whether you're coming as my illegitimate offspring or personal intern, Rhodey can tell you’re important to me and wants to get to know you.” Peter flushed hotly at that, ducking his head. Tony sniffed, tamping down his smile. “We’re just hopping over to 55th, it’s one of Rhodey’s favorite bistros. Whaddaya say, kid?”
Peter’s stomach chose that moment to grumble. He blushed again, but his small smile was genuine. The kind of ego-less, grateful smile Tony wouldn’t have even known how to fake at his age. The kid was too pure sometimes.
“Okay. Thanks a lot, Mr. Stark. Breakfast sounds great.”
Happy pulled them up to the bistro on 55th, the sleek Audi sliding to a gentle stop outside the front doors. Peter gazed out the tinted window with wide eyes. He’d driven through this part of Midtown Manhattan before, but he and his aunt and uncle had never stopped to eat at any of the places in the area, considering the number of dollar signs next to the names on the map. 55th was a narrow street nearing the south side of Central Park, and as such the restaurants on the block had put extra effort into adding a greener touch. Tables spilled out onto the sidewalks bordered by chic cedar terraces covered in purple and white flowering vines that crawled over the latticed wood. Each table had a crisp white linen tablecloth and small bud vase of fresh flowers garnishing the top. The front doors were glass and shining gold. Peter had never dined anywhere so nice in his life. The Queens native self consciously looked down at his Midtown Tech tee and jeans and felt terribly underdressed. He pulled his olive jacket lapels closed over his shirt, wondering helplessly if that would look better.
“So, the kid gets to go to breakfast now, huh?” Happy grumbled. Peter looked up, stricken. His eyes darted from Happy’s in the rearview mirror to Tony’s.
“Should I- should I not-” Tony held up a hand and frowned, brows furrowed behind his tinted glasses as he glared at his head of security.
“No, no, you’re fine, Pete. Real cute Hap, like the kid wasn’t a ball of nerves as it was. I’d invite you, but someone’s gotta park the car, and oh that’s right, you’re on duty.” Happy huffed and got out of the idling car to open Tony’s door.
“Damn right. I’ll be nearby, boss. Let me know when you and the kid are ready for pick up, I’ll be close by.” The billionaire rolled his eyes good naturedly and got out of the car, straightening his suit jacket sleeves casually.
“C’mon kid, Rhodey’s already here.” He called over his shoulder, already walking towards the glass doors.
“Okay.” Peter breathed, shuffling out of the car after his mentor. Happy shut the door behind him and got back into the driver’s seat, slamming the door and pulling away without so much as a “have a nice breakfast”. Man, Peter thought, Happy’s name really was ironic…
Hurrying after Tony, Peter tried to make himself smaller as he walked through the gilded doorway and peered around with interest: the interior of the restaurant was bright with natural light, warm wood, creamy marble and gold accents setting the tone. Colonel Rhodes was standing by the host’s counter reading his phone, dressed in casual slacks under his leg braces, a button down and black bomber jacket. He managed to look respectable yet comfortable, compared to Tony’s sleek textured gray blazer that screamed style and wealth. Peter glanced down at his worn knockoff Adidas and idly wished that his super power was turning invisible. Tony jogged up to his friend.
“Platypus! I know I’m a little late but it was worth it: look who tagged along.” Rhodey looked up from whatever he’d been reading, a sardonic look already in place ready to berate Tony, but his eyes immediately slid off his best friend to the apprehensive looking teenager trailing behind him. Trying to hide his surprise the Colonel only balked for a moment before he dragged his gaze from the kid back to his long time friend and scowled.
“You’re always late, Tones.” Softening his features, Rhodey tried to put on a disarming smile for the kid who had glanced up from his shoes to the war hero. “Hey kid, Peter, right?” The boy nodded eagerly, eyes beaming with admiration.
“Y-yeah! Really great to meet you again, Mr. War Machine, sir.” The Colonel chuckled.
“You can just call me Rhodey.”
“O-okay.” The kid's voice cracked nervously on the word and he blushed furiously. Rhodey smothered a smile while Tony outright laughed.
“Alright let’s put the poor kid out of his misery, we’re starving. Where’re we sitting, honeybear?”
Rhodey jerked a thumb at the hostess. “You tell me. Seems like we had a secluded spot inside toward the back, but it only seats two. To be honest, I’ve been cooped up all week, and the weather’s surprisingly nice. Outside?” Tony made eye contact with the hostess over the counter and held up 3 fingers, then motioned to the tables outside. Hurrying around the counter with a small stack of menus, the young woman with caramel skin and long dark hair smiled at them as she motioned to lead them outside.
“Of course, Mr. Stark. We’ve been expecting you, we reserved tables both indoors and outdoors just in case, I have the perfect spot for you… three.” She glanced sideways at Peter, her eyes traveling down to his worn sneakers and back up to his slightly wrinkled printed tee. Peter tensed, shoving his hands in his jacket pockets and pulling the outer layer closed over his chest as he trailed after the two men who had immediately launched into catching up as they walked.
Breakfast with two actual super-heroes who he’d idolized since he was a kid, at the fanciest place he’d ever eaten? What was his life? Suddenly anxious, the teen prayed he didn’t accidentally say or do something stupid. Tony had said Rhodey wanted to meet him… he didn’t want to embarrass his mentor - he had to make a good impression! Knowing how much his mouth ran when he was nervous, maybe he should just try to say as little as possible? Yeah, that would work. Just.. just keep it cool, Parker. Oh man, he didn’t know if he was cut out for this…
After being sat at an elegant table near the terraced edge of the outdoor dining area, the two men had immediately ordered coffees, and an OJ for Peter. When the waiter had come back, they’d placed their orders (Peter nervously choosing the least expensive thing he could find, only for Tony to order extra sides for him) and passed the time with small talk, the two old friends ribbing each other until their food arrived. When it did, Peter couldn’t help the excited smile that split his face when he saw the epic feast being placed in front of them.
“Whoa, awesome.” He'd exhaled before digging in with gusto, the adults chuckling and following his example, with the conversation eventually picking back up naturally as they ate.
During a lull in the chatter, Rhodey looked up from his corned beef hash to glance at Tony briefly, eyes communicating more than words, before his gaze darted back to the mop of brown hair quietly shoveling a piece of toast into his mouth. The kid had barely spoken during the meal, watching with interest as Rhodey and Tony talked, despite each of them occasionally trying to include him with a “Right, kid?” or a “What do you think, Pete?”. The teen had smiled and politely engaged each time, laughing at the right moments of a story, then fallen back into contented silence as he ate. Something about the increasing tension in Tony’s shoulders told him this wasn’t the kid’s usual MO, though. Maybe the kid was just intimidated? He was War Machine after all, and it was only his second time meeting the boy. If he really was Tony’s son, like he suspected, Rhodey wanted to get to know him. Maybe he’d have to draw him out…
“So, Peter, you’re 15 right? You go to high school around here?”
Peter’s eyes widened and shared a brief look with Tony before the teen swallowed his toast hurriedly, nodding.
“Y-yeah. Yeah. Um, I go to Midtown Tech, in Queens.” Rhodey’s eyebrows rose, impressed. Though, if this was Tony’s kid, he shouldn’t be surprised.
“Midtown School of Science and Technology? That’s a great school, mainly for little geniuses if I recall. Nice job.” The boy’s blush and smile were both genuine.
“Thanks Colonel Rhodes, it really is a great school. I enjoy the classes and I met my best friends there.”
“Aw that’s sweet. I met my best friend in school too. Actually, he was about your age when I met him; he was a little punk at the time.” Rhodey glanced at the genius billionaire playboy philanthropist. “He definitely stood out in a room full of college kids.”
“Don’t remind me.” Tony groaned. Rhodey smirked at his friend, then looked back at Peter innocently.
“So how did you end up with an internship at Stark Industries? I thought they only offered internships to college students?” Tony rolled his eyes exaggeratedly at how obvious Rhodey was being.
“I-”
“We don’t, usually.” Tony jumped in before Peter could stutter out whatever half-assed lie he was concocting in his head. “But we made an exception for Peter.”
“That smart, huh?” Peter blushed even harder and shoved a forkful of eggs into his mouth.
“Oh absolutely. You remember the September Foundation, the grant for high schoolers. He applied for it but when I saw his application I had to meet him, and well, here we are.”
“And you personally review grant applications now?” Rhodey asked, sarcastically. Tony narrowed his eyes at him in a way that said ‘I know what you’re trying to do’.
“One or two sometimes. I pulled him out of the stack. It was fate, what can I tell ya.” Rhodey shot him a deadpan look.
“Fate, huh.” He turned back to Peter, who had been glancing between the two men with wide eyes as if he was watching a tennis match. “So what made you want to apply to Stark Industries in the first place, then?”
At this, the kid visibly lit up and he started gesticulating, the most animated Rhodey had seen him the whole meal.
“Oh, I’ve been a fan of Mr. Stark’s ever since I was a little kid! My parents were both scientists, but they died when I was 6, and I just remember wanting to know everything about every scientist there was, and then a year later Mr. Stark invented the Iron Man suit and the arc reactor technology and it was all over the news. It was so cool, I wanted to know everything about how it worked. I had to beg my aunt and uncle to take me to the Stark Expo when I was eight, but I finally convinced them and it was so amazing. I mean, except for the part when all the Hammer drones went crazy and attacked everyone, but before that it was awesome, there was so much tech to look at!”
Peter pointed his fork casually at his mentor. “That’s actually the first time I met you, Mr. Stark! I feel really dumb admitting this because it’s embarrassing that I owned a plastic Iron man mask and repulsors, but I was eight, okay.” With a sharp noise of surprise, Tony coughed mid-sip into his water glass. “I don’t remember exactly what happened, I think you saved my life! I just remember getting to see the Iron Man armor up close, and you were like ‘Nice work, kid.’ ” Peter excitedly imitated Iron Man’s voice, “and it was the coolest thing ever.”
Tony was still coughing, bent over the side of the table. Rhodey leaned across and patted his back. “You alright, man?”
“Yeah, yep. Just a minor heart attack, remembered something, no biggie,” he wheezed. At Peter’s immediate worried response the engineer threw his hands up “Figurative heart attack, I’m fine, kid, water just went down the wrong way.”
“If you’re sure, Mr. Stark...” He asked worriedly. The man just nodded and waved him on.
“Um, anyway,” Peter continued awkwardly, “I stayed interested in STEM so I ended up at Midtown Tech, and when the, uh, September Foundation came around, and… yeah. I know there’s a ton I can learn from Mr. Stark. I just feel really lucky to have been, um, chosen, you know?”
There was a beat of silence as Rhodey stared at the mini-Tony in front of him, then at his friend, then back at the kid. Peter had said his parents had died when he was 6… His mom and a step-dad maybe? Or foster parents? Or maybe not Tony’s kid at all? It didn’t even really matter anymore; Rhodey was starting to see that blood or not, this was so clearly Tony’s kid… both of them were terrible liars.
“Wow.” The ex-pilot said, finally. He turned to Tony, a teasing glint in his eyes. “So, what, you managed to find your biggest fan and hired them on the spot to follow you around and boost your ego? Like you need it.” He smirked at Peter. “Follow this guy around long enough, kid, and the hero-worship will wear off. Trust me.”
“Hey! Stop trying to sway my intern, get your own groupie!” Rhodey just shook his head.
“So what do you actually do as this jackass’s intern, Peter?” Peter looked at Tony with something akin to panic.
“Uhhhh, well, um, you know. Coffee? P-paperwork… and stuff? And we do lab days a couple times a week where we work on different engineering projects, um, mechanical or biochemical depending on the project…”
“Sounds like some pretty advanced stuff.”
Tony smiled proudly, eyes warm as they regarded the teen. “Yep, he’s a certifiable genius. Kid could probably place out of high school if he wanted, but I’ve been there, I think he’s making the right choice.”
“I’m right here, Mr. Stark.” The kid grumbled good naturedly, and Rhodey couldn’t help his double take. The interaction was so endearingly domestic… Tony used to be allergic to shit like this. He never thought he’d see the day…
“Well, that’s really great kid. If you’re as smart as Tony says you are, I’m sure you’re getting a lot out of the internship. This guy, sunburn of a personality aside, has a lot to teach a kid willing to learn.” Rhodey drew himself up a little. “Tony’s not the only MIT graduate at the table, you know, maybe we can work on something together next time I bank some leave.” The kid nearly choked on a piece of bacon.
“Whooa, really?” Peter managed around his full mouth, too excited to be polite. “You’d want to do that?” Rhodey grinned and shrugged. For Tony’s kid, essentially his nephew? Hell yes.
Just as the colonel opened his mouth to continue, Peter’s hair suddenly stood on end and he whipped his head around to the street behind them, hackles raised. His senses were screaming at him:
DANGERDANGERDANGERDANGER
“Pete?” Recognizing the reaction, Tony stilled, coffee mug halfway to his mouth. The enhanced teen heard an engine roar in the distance and his eyes widened. “You ok-”
“Everyone GET DOWN!” He cried, cutting off his mentor and jolting into action. Standing sharply he flipped their metal breakfast table on its side, ripping it out of the concrete it had been bolted to as plates and glasses crashed loudly to the ground.
“What the-” Rhodey yelped along with other bistro guests who cried out in surprise around him but the sound was rushing closer and Peter had already grabbed the two heroes by their jackets and shoved them down behind the metal table, crouching over them protectively.
A split second later, the roar of a motorcycle thundered toward them, then the heart stopping, booming rat-tat-tat-tat-tat of automatic rifle fire. The motorcycle screeched to a halt. People were screaming and running and bullets were pinging off their metal table, deafening, and the rifle was firing and firing until there were 3 clicks, then the motorcycle screeched again as rubber tires tore against asphalt, speeding the vehicle away down 55th. It was over in seconds.
Twin repeating exclamations of “Holy shit” from the two men huddled behind the table had been peppered throughout the rain of gunfire, but now that the shooting had stopped, a pregnant silence reigned. There was a collective inhale… then screams and crying started filling the air.
Suddenly Peter was being pushed up and away from the men he’d thrown himself over, hands shoving at his shoulders. His ears were ringing with the echo of bullets on metal, drowning out muffled voices and the staccato beating of Tony’s heart.
“-eter. Pete!” The man’s voice abruptly broke through his daze as Tony surged up, stumbling slightly, eyes wide and wild behind his tinted glasses as he immediately reached for the young vigilante.
“Jesus, answer me, kid! Are you OK?” Calloused hands were pushing him back then down into a recently abandoned chair, frantically patting him down before the hands came up to cup his face firmly. Tony pulled the boy’s gaze up to meet his. “Peter!”
Rhodey, who had just managed to get back on his feet, staggered over to them, putting a hand on his friend's shoulder and leaning into him. “Tony, he looks okay, calm down.”
Coming out of his stupor, Peter finally met Tony’s panicked eyes. The man was pale, his breathing labored. The boy nodded shakily. “I-I’m okay, Mr. Stark.”
The screech of tires on asphalt had them all jumping, hearts lodged in their throats. It was Happy, pulling up in the black Audi with a stricken expression as he nearly leapt from the driver’s seat.
“Boss.” The ex-boxer called anxiously as he started rushing around the car. “Shit, are you guys okay? Anybody injured?”
Tony took a moment looking from Happy back to Peter, getting his breathing under control, then his arms dropped and he stumbled back, leaning into Rhodey as much as his friend was leaning into him. His head swiveled to take in the chaos around them. “Christ,” He hissed. “This is my fault.”
“Don’t do that, man.” Rhodey shook his head. “This wasn’t-”
~~LOOOKOOOOUUUUUTTT~~
Peter’s senses screamed again, a bolt of pain flashing through his head, his whole body lighting up like an electric fence. Time slowed down. There was a tall figure in a motorcycle helmet, on foot now, who had snuck back to the scene and was rushing toward them, arm raised with a silencer pistol aimed right at Tony Stark’s chest. His eyes widened.
“NO!”
Reacting on instinct, Peter was instantly on his feet and throwing himself at the men just as two shots went off in quick succession; the dense PFT PFT of bullets hitting flesh rent the air. Surprised cries rang out from all sides followed by an angry yell and a crash as Happy, who had caught sight of the assailant just after Peter had, bodily tackled the gunman to the ground, knocking the pistol out of his hands.
While Happy struggled with their attacker, the two men and teenager had stumbled a few feet from where Peter had shouldered them out of the way. Losing his balance the vigilante had fallen gracelessly against Tony, arms flailing around the man’s shoulders, who instinctively wrapped his own arms around the boy’s midsection to hold him up, barely keeping his feet under him. Any other time it would have looked like a hug, but the soft groan of pain and Peter’s hands weakly scrabbling to keep their grip on his shoulders ruined the image. Tony could feel a warm wetness starting to spread against his shirt and his blood turned to ice.
Peter had been hit.
“No. No.” He whispered, not daring to look down at the boy who was gripping him tightly.
This-this couldn’t be happening.
Peter’s body started to sag in his grip and the boy’s arms slid up to wrap around Tony’s neck as his legs started to give out, trying to hold himself up against the man.
“M-Mr. Stark…” Peter slurred against his shoulder. “I- I don’t- I don’t-”
“I’ve got you. I’ve got you, kid.” Tony’s arms tightened around him, numb shock starting to give way to horror. His breath started coming short.
This couldn’t be happening. Not Peter. Please, please not Peter.
“Rhodey.” Tony called, voice wobbling with growing panic. “Rhodey, help me. Help me, he’s-”
The colonel was just getting up from where he’d been thrown by Peter’s shove and and saw his friend looking at him over the boy’s shoulder, expression taut with unbridled terror. At first he didn’t understand, Tony was hugging the kid to him, but from the back nothing looked wrong. Then he saw a drip, looked down and saw splashes of dark red dotting the sidewalk beneath them. Tony took a stumbling step back, the teen sagging in his grip.
“Oh god. Shit. Shit, I got you.” Rhodey rushed up to his feet and to his friend’s side, taking hold of the slight figure in his grip to help Tony gently lower Peter to the ground. When the boy was pulled away from Tony, it revealed both of their chests soaked with blood and two dark, oozing holes in Peter’s left side, just above his heart. Tony choked on a ragged breath and Rhodey’s mind shorted. Oh god, if the kid… this will kill Tony. The kid’s face was ashen as he blinked up at them in confusion.
“Whazz’it… M’fine. I’m- m’fine, r-really. Did s-somebody get’im?” Peter mumbled looking between them as they both laid him back against the concrete. The military man immediately tore his jacket off and wadded it up, pressing it firmly against the wounds to try and staunch the bleeding, trying to ignore the soft grunt of pain from the boy. He glanced across the kid’s body at Stark, who was frozen, hands trembling as he stared down at his injured mentee.
“Tony.” The colonel barked. His friend jumped, wide eyes darting up. “Wake up man, you can’t lose it right now.” Rhodey jerked his head down to the kid on the ground. “He needs you.”
Suddenly a figure was rushing up to them and dropping to a crouch beside the billionaire.
“Boss.” Happy said, urgently. The larger man did a double take and quickly took in Tony’s blood soaked dress shirt and blazer then the gory wad of cloth Rhodey was pressing to the kid’s chest. He paled. “Boss, are you-”
“I’m fine.” The mechanic choked out quickly. Taking in a shuddering breath Tony quickly shook his head, tearing himself out of the dark spiral he’d nearly lost himself in. Looking down he tapped his watch with shaking fingers, calling his Mark XLVII suit. “The guy-?”
“Knocked out and cuffed, he's locked in the back of the car. Police and emergency crews should be here any minute.”
“H-ey Happy.” Peter chirped weakly, trying to sound cheerful. Happy’s brows furrowed worriedly.
“Hey, kid. You gotta stop doing my job for me, alright? You’re gonna put me out on the street.”
“Wha- pshhhh, nooo. Y-you’re the best.. body…guard.” The teen slurred, voice getting fainter as he talked. His eyes slipped closed, face going lax, and Tony straightened with a spike of fear.
“Nonono. Kid? Kid! Peter!” He reached down and frantically shook the teen. “Wake up, kiddo. You- you can’t do this to me, Pete!” A firm tap on his face had the boy startling awake, eyes unfocused and half-lidded.
“Ngh. Mr. S-Stark?” Peter stuttered, teeth starting to chatter from the blood loss. He looked up at the goateed man above him, disoriented. “Wha-” The fog cleared enough for the kid to take in his mentor’s blood drenched shirt and his eyes widened in panic. To Rhodey’s surprise the kid shot up into a sitting position. “Mr. Stark, ohmygod you’re bleeding! We have to- agh!” The teen was cut off by a sharp cry of pain as the movement jostled the bullets buried in his chest.
“Peter!” All three men cried out at once. Tony’s hands were immediately pressing him back down, heart pounding wildly in his chest, while the kid struggled against him, expression frantic. His hands were wet with the kid’s blood and he wanted to be sick. No, no, no, no.
“Goddammit, Pete, lay down.” Tony grit out desperately, terror making his voice harsh. “It’s not mine, it’s yours, you self sacrificing-” The billionaire bumped Rhodey aside, grabbing the wadded up jacket that had fallen away and pushing it forcefully back against the bullet wound as he pushed the kid back down, his other hand cradling the boy’s head.
“O-oh.” Collapsing back against the concrete, the adrenaline left Peter as quickly as it had come. “But y’r ok’y?” He murmured to the distraught man above him weakly, still needing to know.
Tony’s expression twisted with guilt and fear and pride. “Yeah, kid. I’m okay. We’re okay. Thanks to you.”
Rhodey looked up at him, two fingers pressed to the kid’s neck to monitor his pulse. “We’re gonna address that at some point, right? You know. The precognition, and the super strength?” The ex-pilot glanced meaningfully behind them at the cast iron table that had previously been bolted to the concrete, now torn and warped on its side, the concrete broken and cracked like putty beneath it.
“Izz’a secr’t.” Peter mumbled, squinting up at Rhodey with a weak smirk. “L-like tha’ r’lly old m’vie, Mulan.”
“Oh my god. It’s the Spider-kid.” Rhodey looked up at the billionaire in astonishment. Tony, who was too crazed with worry at the moment to deal with this, opened his mouth to retort-
Abruptly, Peter let out a cry, his back arching in pain. “Ah! Agh! Unnnngh.” The teen gasped, eyes clenching closed tightly as he squirmed, each involuntary movement making the pain worse.
“Pete?!” Tony immediately lifted up the wad of jacket, glancing at the wound to see if something had changed, but it was just as bloody as before. Confused, he looked back up at the kid who was groaning with pain. Panic spiked across his veins until he was shaking with it. He felt like he was cracking open. “K-kid, talk to me, what’s wrong. Peter? C’mon, you gotta talk to me so I can help you.” The kid’s anguished grimace cut through him utterly. Tony’s face crumpled, eyes watering. “My suit’s almost here, bud, we’re gonna get you to the Med Bay before you know it, okay? Okay?” He could hear the near-sobbing wobble in his voice and didn’t even fucking care, his kid was in agony and there was nothing he could do about it.
“Tony!” Peter gasped, the boy’s hands reaching up to clutch at his shirt and oh god, something was wrong, something was so wrong, because Peter was strung like a bow, and in pain and was calling him Tony. The engineer tossed a panic stricken look to Rhodey across from him.
“Wh-what do I do? What do I do?” He hissed, but Rhodey looked just as lost and terrified as he did. Instead of answering, the colonel just took one of the kid’s hands in his, but the boy immediately ripped it out of his grip.
“D-don’t.” The kid grit out through clenched teeth, tears leaking from the corners of his eyes. “D’n wanna h-hurt you.” He managed to catch his breath between battles against the pain. “T-Tony. H-healing, the bullets are.. still in, I can feel it… It’s trying-” He let out a shuddering breath and eyes rolling back he promptly passed out, face falling to the side against Tony’s hand that still cupped the back of his head.
“Oh god.” Tony breathed, jaw tight with dawning horror.
“What, what is it?” Rhodey asked. There was a distant, familiar roar slowly drawing closer.
“The kid’s got a healing factor, I think it’s trying to heal around the bullets, every move...”
“Jesus.” Rhodey breathed, looking back down at Peter.
“Fuck! Fuck! We gotta-”
At that moment, there was a loud clang as the Iron Man suit landed heavily behind Tony, cracking the concrete beneath it. The suit's owner breathed a loud sigh of relief and let Rhodey take over before scrambling up to his feet. He looked down at his watch as the suit opened for him with familiar clicks and whirs. It had felt like an eternity but looking at the time it had only been a little over 3 minutes since he’d called his suit, maybe 7 since the kid had been shot. Emergency crews should be here any minute to help lock down the scene and help any other injured civilians. Hurriedly, he stepped inside his suit and as soon as his faceplace clanked down FRIDAY booted up, assessing the boy on the ground and the scene around them.
“Peter Parker has lost over a liter of blood, boss, he’ll go into hypovolemic shock soon.”
The words sent lightning bolts of terror shooting through him until there were spots in his vision. His heart felt like it was going to beat out of his chest. Swallowing thickly he looked down.
“I’m getting him to the Med Bay.” He said through his Iron Man suit. “Step back.”
Bending down, he scooped the unconscious boy into his arms, arms and legs flopping limply as he lifted him. Rhodey immediately stepped in to better position the kid in his grip, tucking arms in and pushing the kid’s head up from where it had fallen back until it rested safely against Iron Man’s shoulder. Blood was smeared against the kid’s cheek from where Tony had tapped him earlier, it stood out starkly against his too-pale skin, and the colonel grimaced.
“Thanks, honeybear.” Tony murmured, his grip tightening around the boy. Then he shot up into the sky towards the Tower.
In the distance, Rhodey could hear sirens wailing as they got closer. He looked over at Happy who stood there, stunned, still staring at the spot in the sky where his boss and Peter had disappeared.
“Tony’s gonna lose it if that kid dies.” The head of security said, matter of factly.
Rhodey slumped into the remaining upright chair on the sidewalk, watching as police cruisers and ambulances pulled up to the scene.
“No kidding.” He sighed. He’d never seen his friend more frenzied in his life. Secret love child or superhero mentee or both, it was painfully obvious how much Tony loved the kid. Seeing him hold the bloody teenager, eyes wide with terror, was like watching the mechanic hold his own bleeding heart in his hands. Tony had already been through so fucking much. After everything, he’d finally proposed to Pepper, he’d finally opened himself up to this kid when he’d never in a million years thought he could be a father… and if the kid died, like this , Rhodey knew the man would blame himself. This would kill him. And knowing some of Tony’s darker tendencies, maybe literally. Rhodey shook his head and looked down at his blood stained hands. Peter’s blood…
“Let’s just give our statements and get the hell outta here.”
Happy nodded grimly.
It took longer than Rhodey had hoped to work with the police and emergency crews. As much as he’d wanted to rush back to the Tower to check on Tony and the kid, there had been other civilians injured in the drive-by shooting and Tony would want to know they’d been taken care of. Thankfully, it looked like there were no fatalities, but the EMTs were swarming the place checking on the outdoor diners and restaurant staff.
Happy, meanwhile, had given his statement to the police and begun interrogating staff, trying to suss out who had given Tony’s position away for the clearly planned attempt on his life. Rhodey was pushing it down under his well practiced calm but the attack had shaken him. People had tried to kill Tony before, plenty of times - he’d even been declared dead once - but this one had been close… If it hadn’t been for Peter’s supernatural reflexes, and the lucky chance that the kid had been brought along, Rhodey feels certain they would have succeeded.
By the time he’d given his statement to the officers, been checked over by the EMTs and finally deemed free to go, Happy was still fuming, making notes as he spoke to patrons and employees. The head of security had waved him on, insisting that Rhodey check on his boss and the kid, and to let him do his damn job. For his part, the he was just as ready to leave the horrible scene of his friend’s attempted murder.
By the time he’d made it back to the Tower and jogged into the Med Bay’s lobby, Tony was out of the Iron Man armor, sitting hunched over himself in one of the chairs in the empty waiting room.
“Tones…” Rhodey broke the fragile silence hesitantly and the mechanic’s head shot up. His eyes were red rimmed as he took in his friend’s arrival. “Is he…?”
“In surgery.” Tony croaked, leg starting to bounce impatiently as he bowed his head into his threaded hands again. The Air Forceman made his way over and dropped carefully into the seat beside the man, bracing a hand on his rumpled gray blazer.
Jesus, Tony looked like absolute shit. The entire front of his shirt and blazer were still stained with Peter’s blood, now a dried, rusty-brown. It looked like the man had tried to wash his hands but blood still smeared up one of his wrists and stained the beds of his nails. His clothes were disheveled and his hair wild, probably from running his hands through it. But his face… it spoke more volumes than anything. It was drawn and tight with worry, brow creased and mouth a thin line where he pressed it into his clasped hands, propped up by his elbows on his knees.
Rhodey just watched him, palm firm on his shoulder, squeezing gently every few minutes to let him know he was there. When Tony still didn’t say anything after a while, he finally dared to ask the burning question.
“Is… Is the kid gonna be okay?”
Tony expelled a harsh breath and closed his eyes, scrubbing his hands up and down his face.
“They don’t know. They don’t fucking know, Rhodey.” The billionaire burst up from the seat and started running his shaking hands through his hair again as he paced. “My doctors, the best in the world, don’t fucking know.”
“Tony.” Rhodey admonished, eyes following the trembling mess of a man. “I’m sure they’re doing everything they can.”
“What if it’s not enough, huh? What if-”
“C’mon man, don’t go there. Kid’s tough, he’s Spider-Man, he’s got a healing factor, you said so yourself. If anyone can pull through two GSWs to the chest, it’s him.”
Tony turned on him then, eyes wide and furious. “He got shot for me, Rhodey,” his finger stabbed himself in the arc reactor, “for me. Like, like I’m worth taking a bullet for. Shit, Rhodes, that kid… that kid is worth everything and I’m fucking poison.” The mechanic’s voice rose with growing hysteria. “This- this is my fault. I destroy everything I touch. It shoulda been me, it shoulda been me!” He was rambling now, furious and frenzied and afraid, pulling at his hair then pressing his palms into his eyes.
Taken aback by the darkening spiral, Rhodey realized his friend was starting to hyperventilate and shot up from his seat worriedly. Shit, Tony was having a panic attack. He quickly reached Tony before the engineer could trip over himself in his self-deprecating mania, corralling him forcibly back to one of the chairs. The man was struggling against him weakly but Rhodey managed to push him down and grip both shoulders firmly, crouching in front of him.
“Breathe, Tony. You gotta breathe man. In and out. With me. C’mon, Tones. Listen to my voice, listen to me, c’mon.”
When Tony pulled his hands away, tears, real actual tears, were trailing tracks down the man’s face. He sucked in a ragged breath, and puffed it out quickly, hand clawing at his chest like he could reach in and squeeze his own heart.
“I-I can’t-” He choked, eyes clenching closed. “I can’t- Peter, he’s-” Rhodey’s heart constricted in his chest and he prayed to a god he didn’t know if he really believed in that the kid was pulling through in that OR.
“I know, Tony. I got you, man. The kid’s gonna make it. He’s strong. It isn’t over till it’s over, right? They’re in there fighting for him, Tones. And what’s gonna happen when he comes out okay and you’ve worried yourself into an early grave, huh? The kid needs you. Deep breaths, c’mon, Tony, think about where you need to be when he’s out of surgery, okay?”
Tony was nodding along stiltedly as Rhodey talked, listening and trying to focus on the tumble of words, trying not to think about the smell of blood that soaked him, or the memory of Peter’s lifeless body in his arms. Peter had been shivering as they flew, the kid’s face pale and sweaty, brown curls matted to his forehead where it rested against the metal of his armored shoulder, despite the cold. Then, just before they’d landed, he’d abruptly released a soft breath and gone utterly still (oh god no too still too still). FRIDAY's voice had been muffled in his ear about hypovolemia, not breathing, no heartbeat, noheartbeatnoheartbeatnoheartbeat-
He’d staggered his landing, stuttering and panicky, and quickly transferred Peter to the Med Bay staff, who immediately swarmed around him. They were shouting and running his gurney into another room, calling barked instructions for coding and preparing paddles and then the door had shut behind them, leaving Tony alone - alonealonealone - in the empty lobby until one of the nurses had come out to let him know the boy had been resuscitated, and they were taking the bullets out and transfusing blood and they didn’t know, couldn’t promise, they didn’t know-
“TONY.” His body swayed with the force of Rhodey’s hands shaking his shoulders roughly. He sucked in a gasping breath.
“Oh god.” He whispered brokenly, dropping his face into his palms. He shrugged Rhodey’s hands off his shoulders and bent forward to lean on his knees as he came back to himself. “I don’t know how this happened.” He groaned through grit teeth.
“What?” His friend questioned, thrown off by the man’s 180. “How what happened?”
“Th-the kid. He’s just… he was just supposed to be my, ugh, my mentee, protégé, whatever. Fucking, just… just a kid I was looking out for, Rhodes. Nothing major. Same thing anyone would do. Then- then he started coming over for lab days. And we got him an actual internship. And- and he just… wormed his way in. And now I think I would kill everyone in this fucking city and then myself if anything happened to him.” The mechanic blew out a shaky breath, face pressed into his hands. “What the fuck.”
Rhodey couldn’t help himself. He smiled. This wasn’t funny, the kid was on death’s door and Tony was dissolving into human shambles before his eyes, but… his friend had just admitted to basically loving this kid. He didn’t even care anymore if it was actually Tony’s secret kid or not because it didn’t matter. He so obviously loved him like one.
“Tones, as horrible as this situation is, this is actually a huge step for you-”
The engineer scoffed and shot him an offended look. “Shut up, asshole.”
“It is. I’m proud of you, man. And when - when, not if - the kid makes it out of this, you’re gonna introduce us properly, cause I want my nephew to know he’s got ‘cool Uncle Rhodey’ to hang out with when you’re annoying him.”
“Oh my god.” Tony grumbled, swiping his palm across his eyes tiredly. “I can’t believe you. He- he’s not actually my kid.”
“What, you in denial? Huh, sourpatch?” Rhodey quipped, throwing one of Tony’s favorite nicknames for him back in his face.
Tony’s incredulous retort was cut off as a doctor in black scrubs opened the door into the Med Bay’s lobby. The mechanic and military man jumped to their feet, bodies rigid.
“Mr. Stark,” the doctor greeted him evenly. She was tall, middle aged, and pretty, with intelligent hazel eyes set in dark brown skin, hair pulled back into a low ponytail at the nape of her neck. She walked up to the men.
“How is he? Is- is he…?” Tony asked impatiently. The doctor pressed a small, tired smile at him, her eyes kind.
“He’s going to be fine, Mr. Stark. It was close, but his healing factor is remarkable, if challenging for a surgeon. We had to reopen the wounds a few times to reach the bullets and shrapnel, but as soon as they were out, it was like he was off to the races. Once the arteries were stitched, he started healing before our eyes. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
Rhodey and Tony breathed out ragged, relieved sighs, the latter sagging against his friend. The doctor waited patiently for them to take in the news. The Med Bay team had all signed strict NDAs so Tony wasn’t concerned about the revelation of Peter’s enhanced healing, yet something about the woman’s stature made him think there was still something to worry about. He reached for his left wrist, clenching tightly, holding it against his chest.
“But? Is there a ‘but’?”
“Not to do with his condition, sir, he's out of the woods, I promise. However, I do want to make some recommendations should anything like this happen again.”
He felt an instinctive sinking feeling. Something had gone wrong. “Like what?”
“Like a new anesthetic. We didn’t realize the extent of Mr. Parker’s enhancements at first - he metabolized normal anesthesia too fast to be put under. We then tried using the specialized formula created for Captain America, which is the only reason we were able to complete as much as we did, but he woke up before we could fully finish. It was… challenging to hold him still, to say the least.”
“Oh god, Pete…” Tony blanched and looked aside at Rhodey, whose expression was equally grim. Peter would never hurt someone on purpose, but drugged and confused and in pain… he could only imagine the chaos in that room. The kid could bend steel with his bare hands, it’d be like a rhino in a china shop. “Are the staff OK?”
“We’re all fine, a few bumps and bruises; as soon as he realized who we were he tried his best to calm down. But… some equipment was destroyed, and the operating table will need to be replaced. He, ah, dented it.”
“Christ.” Tony mumbled, aching for the kid. Rhodey whistled beside him.
“That can all be avoided next time if we have the proper anesthesia to administer. And painkillers. I’d imagine at the metabolic rate he’s demonstrating, he likely burns through medications at a similar rate. We’ll do what we can, but now that he’s stabilized, with as little as we know about him I’d like to err on the side of caution so that we don’t run the risk of overdosing.”
Tony nodded, dragging a hand through his hair in frustration. “Bruce helped me synthesize the anesthesia and painkillers for Cap, but he’s…” Tony growled and closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’ll figure it out.” He looked back up at the doctor. “Can we see him?”
“Yes of course. He’s been moved into one of the recovery rooms and is still receiving the last of the blood transfusions. We had to restore four pints of B .”
“B .” Tony repeated, memorizing it.
“He’s been dropping in and out of consciousness. If he’s sleeping, please try not to wake him, he needs the rest.” She looked pointedly at the billionaire who just glared back at her. She shook her head. “Alright, come this way.”
The two men followed tensely as the doctor led them through the double doors and down a hallway into the recovery wing. She pushed open one of the first doors on her left to reveal a single bed set against a large window, soft afternoon light streaming through into the otherwise unlit room.
On the bed was a slight figure tucked under the hospital-white bed sheets. Peter’s head was turned to the side, facing the doorway, eyes closed and an oxygen cannula tucked under his nose. A blood bag and IV drip hung beside him connected to a tall pole, the lines snaking down where one connected to the inside of his left elbow, the other to the top of his left hand. An oxygen sensor was attached to his finger and readings of heart rate, blood pressure, O2 saturation and other stats displayed on a high tech screen beside the bed.
Tony stood frozen in the doorway, watching the boy’s chest slowly rise and fall with each breath, even as his own caught painfully in his throat. He thought he heard someone speaking but it was drowned out by the roaring in his ears. Jesus, the kid… the kid was alive… He’d believed the doctor, but seeing it with his own two eyes… The mechanic felt like he could pass out with the relief that flooded him, turning his legs to jelly.
He must have nearly, because suddenly Rhodey was manhandling him into one of the chairs besides Peter’s bed.
“Jesus, Tones, help me out here.” The colonel grunted, dumping Tony down into the seat. “He’s alright, look at him, he’s okay.”
“I know.” Tony croaked roughly. “I know.” He felt Rhodey pat his shoulder comfortingly, but all he could see was the kid. Pale and injured and alive.
As if triggered by the sound of his voice, the teen’s eyes fluttered, a small groan emitting from the bed. Tony was immediately by his side, pulling the chair with him. He leaned on the hospital bed and reached up to sweep a lock of hair away that had fallen over the boy’s eyes, missing how Rhodey and the doctor shared a look at the gesture.
“M’zzer Stark?” Peter mumbled, eyes squinting open tiredly, immediately landing on the goateed man in front of him.
“Hey, Pete, I’m here.” He gave the kid a half smile, who returned it weakly. “How you feeling?”
“Mmmm. Okay. Feel… fuzzy.” Tony couldn’t help his muted chuckle.
“I bet. They’ve got you on the good stuff. You in any pain?”
Peter’s half-lidded eyes drooped closed and his brows furrowed, like he was considering it, then they pried open again. His pupils were dilated wide.
“I think so? But s’okay. Jussst… itchy. Sleepy.” He slurred.
“Because you’re healing, Peter.” The doctor stepped up from behind Tony then and he watched the boy’s eyes pan up to try and focus on her face. “I’ll ask you not to remove the bandage until a nurse comes in later to change it, no matter how itchy it feels, okay? And try to go back to sleep.” The boy frowned up at her.
“You poked me.” He mumbled grumpily. The doctor just smiled, her eyes crinkling at the edges in amusement.
“I was removing shrapnel from your left clavicle. A bit more than a poke, but yes. I bet you’re feeling better now though.”
“Mmhmm. ‘S okay.” He murmured, eyes slipping closed again. Suddenly they snapped open with a small gasp and Peter’s right hand flailed out to clutch at his mentor beside him. Tony grabbed it immediately, panic spiking. “M’zzer Stark, y-you’re ‘kay, right? I don- I don’t r’member… There-there was a guy-” The teen rambled feverishly and Tony deflated heavily with relief, quickly reaching up with the hand that wasn’t clutched in Peter’s to press his palm against the kid’s forehead. It was cool to the touch, the kid was just loopy from the drugs. He left his hand there without thinking too much about it.
“I’m fine, Pete.” He assured, lips twitching to the side in an amused, if exhausted, smile. “I’m here, Rhodey’s here, we’re all fine, and Happy got the guy. Just- just go to sleep, alright? I’ll see you when you wake up.”
“Mmm’kay. C-cool, cool. Sleep…” And then with another incoherent mumble, the kid was out. Tony dropped his hand slowly and watched as the teen’s breathing evened out, the engineer’s shoulders sagging with relief. He was gonna be okay…
Tony heard a quiet cough, and when he turned, he saw that Rhodey and the doctor were both watching… him. He clamped down on any embarrassment and scowled. “What?”
His friend just smiled knowingly and shrugged.
“Nothing, man. Nothing at all.”
When Peter woke up for the second time, he felt far more lucid. Like ice water had been poured over him, he abruptly remembered the shooting and diving for his mentor… then blood and fear. He had much blurrier memories of harsh, cold wind snapping at his skin… a bright light overhead with looming, faceless figures and pain… then a warmer if equally blurry memory of Mr. Stark’s voice… a palm on his forehead, feeling safe. He wasn’t quite sure how much of his foggy memory was real or imagined, but as he blinked his heavy eyelids open to narrow slits and peered around the dark room, he figured he must have been dreaming the last part, because the room was empty and quiet.
There was a soft beeping every minute or so to his left, and he could hear the rushing of water in pipes in the walls, the hum of holo screens and the whirring of near and distant machines. He’d been to the Tower’s Med Bay before and immediately recognized where he was on waking, if only because the sounds of said machines were so uniquely StarkTech. He was grateful the lights were off as he acclimated, and a quick glance at the window indicated night… Geez, he and Mr. Stark and Colonel Rhodes had gone out for breakfast, how long had he been out?
As his senses continued waking, more sounds trickled in, and he realized he could hear hushed voices in the hallway outside his room’s closed door.
“I just… I just hate the waiting.” May… that was May’s voice, whispered and worried.
“Too bad I haven’t cracked time travel yet…” Came Mr. Stark’s derisive baritone. A breathy exhale. “Listen, Dr. Bhasin is confident he’s going to make a full recovery and she’s one of the best surgeons in the damn world. She says he could be up and about as early as tomorrow morning.”
His mentor’s voice sounded even and strong, despite the odd edge to it… He- he must be okay, then. Peter had a fuzzy memory, more emotion than images, of a deep encompassing fear for the man. The thought made his heart rate jump.
“May… I’m so sor-” The billionaire’s low voice continued.
“If you apologize one more time, Tony Stark, I’m kicking you out of your own building.” May cut him off with a hissed whisper. “Someone tried to kill you. You weren’t being Iron Man, you were just going out to breakfast. It was unconscionable what that man did-”
Oh god. Oh god, that was right. Someone… someone had tried to shoot Mr. Stark… twice. He’d only brought Peter along at the last minute… If Peter hadn’t accidentally fallen asleep in the lab, if he hadn’t been there, Mr. Stark would be- He could have been-
Suddenly the machine beside him let out a loud, blaring alarm as Peter’s heart rate skyrocketed.
Startling violently at the sound, Peter shot up, ignoring the flare of pain in his chest, and flailed for the machine that glared 126 BPS in angry red text on the display. He reached and tapped different colored icons, trying desperately to shut it off before it could bother the adults outside his room.
Just as he’d given up on trying to turn off the alarm and instead started pulling off the electrode pads stuck to his chest, the door to his room banged open. May and Tony rushed in with matching expressions of panic.
“FRI, lights 30%!”
Peter squinted and lifted a hand to shield his eyes at the sudden illumination. Seeing him awake, sitting up, his half-detached heart monitors in his hand, all three of them froze.
“Um, h-hi.” Peter greeted with a sheepish smile.
“Peter, baby!” May cried, rushing to his side, immediately touching a hand to his arm, her other sweeping his hair from his forehead.
Tony, for his part, stood stock still where he’d rushed into the room, eyes wide and bloodshot, staring at the teenager like he was a ghost. At the worried glance the boy tossed over his aunt's shoulder at him, the engineer wrenched himself out of his stupor, jaw snapping shut and clenching tightly before his expression smoothed into something unreadable. Averting his gaze to the machine beside Peter’s bed, Tony skirted around the room to address the monitor’s alarm, shutting it off and clicking through the most recent readings, refusing to look back at the kid.
Peter watched the man, heart still in his throat over the earlier revelation, but quickly dragged his eyes back to his aunt who was now sitting on his bed beside his hip, taking his face in her palms. Her eyes were glassy and exhausted, cheeks flushed.
“Oh honey, you’re awake. Thank god. They said you’d be okay but it was so hard to believe it until I got to see your baby browns myself.”
“Hi Aunt May.” Peter said, dropping his gaze guiltily. At a light nudge from her hands cupping his face, he looked back up to find her smiling at him, eyes watery but so full of love. “I’m, uh, I’m sorry for worrying you. But I’m okay, really! I feel fine.” Her expression immediately dropped, tone disapproving.
“You are not fine, mister. They just changed your bandages an hour ago and you’re mostly closed up but internally there is a lot of damage that still needs healing, so you are not going to overdo it, capiche?”
Peter nodded vigorously, thoroughly chastised. “Yeah. Yep. Got it.” May’s emotional smile widened.
“Peter Benjamin Parker. I am- I am so furious with you, and scared and exasperated, but not surprised. Because you have the heart of a hero, baby - Ben would be so, so proud.”
Peter's face flushed hot with embarrassment at how quickly his eyes welled with tears at her words. He struggled to reign his emotions in, trying desperately not to cry like a baby in front of his mentor and idol. But… but she’d said Ben would be proud of him, and after everything he’d done, it meant so, so much. He sniffled and shook his head.
“Y-you’re not mad at me? I dunno, I- I thought you’d yell at me more, tell me how stupid I was…”
She squeezed his face gently where her hands cupped his cheeks, and her eyes turned to Italian steel. “Oh, you better believe I’m gonna do some yelling, I am still fully freaking out here, okay? But you just woke up, and as much as you scared me to death Peter, I know that nothing I say would have changed what you decided to do.”
Her eyes slid across the room to land on Tony, who was keeping his attention on the biometric monitor, avoiding her gaze. She knew who Peter had nearly died for, and why. And especially after Ben… She looked back to her nephew, schooling her expression back to stern. “So I’m taking it easy on you, buster - for now. You just wait till you’re all healed up.”
Peter sighed and hung his head. “That’s fair,” he grumbled. He peered up at her through his lashes. “I’m sorry for scaring you.” He whispered. May’s face creased in sympathy and she bent forward to kiss him on each cheek gently. Then her eyes darted from Peter to Tony, then back.
“I’m gonna get you some water, okay honey? I’ll be back in a little bit.” Confused for a moment, Peter looked across the room at the small jug of water and waiting cups, then back to May, then his eyes skipped over to the mechanic who stood tensely, back turned, head bowed.
“O-kay. Thanks, May.” His aunt dropped her hands to his forearm and squeezed gently, lending him her support. Then she rose and quietly slipped out.
Silence filled the room.
In the same motion, Tony and Peter glanced at each other, freezing when their eyes met. After a long, tense moment, Tony released the heavy breath he’d been holding.
“Hey, kid.”
“H-hey, Mr. Stark.”
The mechanic had changed from the sleek suit Peter had seen him in that morning to a faded band tee layered over a long sleeve shirt and simple jeans… but even freshly showered and shaved, he managed to look disheveled and exhausted. Gingerly, Tony sat on the edge of the bed and plucked the disconnected electrodes out of Peter’s hands, pulling aside the hospital gown on the right and left to reapply them to his chest. Leaning back to the machine, Tony pressed a green ‘restart’ icon and the gentle beeping of the biometric monitor resumed.
“Um, what time is it?” Peter asked softly, a little unnerved by his mentor’s uncharacteristic silence. Tony turned back to him, a contemplative look on his face.
“A little after 11pm. You’ve been doing a pretty solid Sleeping Beauty impression since around 1.”
Peter just nodded mutely and looked down at his hands. He could hear his mentor’s heartbeat racing in his chest, but the man showed none of his internal stress on his face. In fact, if anything… based on the tension in his shoulders, carefully blank face and the chilly conversation, it almost seemed like Mr. Stark was… mad at him. The man seemed to be struggling with what he wanted to say, so to fill the silence, Peter reflexively started rambling.
“Thank you. Um, for bringing me here, and, um you know, letting me use your Med Bay. I mean, I think it was you, it’s hard to remember exactly what happened, but I think I remember, um-”
“Kid.” Tony interrupted curtly, crossing his arms and burying his face in one of his hands. Peter shut his mouth with a clack and tried to sit up a little straighter, but it pulled at his stitches and he suddenly felt a little dizzy. He swayed where he sat and the mechanic’s face quickly morphed into tight worry as he reached out to gently steady the boy. Pulling a few pillows up to create a pile behind the kid, he helped lower Peter back against it, who sighed gratefully. The man’s mouth twitched as he stared down at him before looking off to the side.
“You don’t have to thank me, Pete. Especially for that. You shouldn’t be thanking me. You-” Tony cut himself off sharply, closing his eyes and exhaling roughly through his nose; his right hand unconsciously clutched his left wrist, gripping it so tightly in his lap that his knuckles turned white. Finally he looked back up and twisted to face the teen, pulling one of his legs up on the bed. He worked his jaw a few times, then finally spoke.
“Pete, you saved my life, our lives. It was brave and selfless and I should thank you…” The carefully blank mask he’d been maintaining broke, a tumultuous range of emotions playing out across his expressive face until it settled on outrage, “but you almost died and, and jesus... kid, I’m not grateful, I’m fucking LIVID.” Tony grit out through clenched teeth, trying not to shout. Peter could feel the anxious fury radiating off the man and he shrank back into the pile of pillows at the intensity of it. Suddenly the mechanic burst up from the bed and started pacing, pressing his palms into his eye sockets. He’d had far too much time to think and fester during the 10 hours Peter had been asleep; all his worry and guilt had collapsed on itself like a neutron star, now a white hot ball of wrath in his gut.
"But-!"
“Stop! God, I am so- I am so pissed." He seethed. "I am so beyond the realm of pissed that I eclipsed it all the way to fucking giddy and came back full circle twice.” The man rounded on him, gaze icy and hard. “I cannot fucking believe you did that.”
Peter felt a swell of indignant rebellion at the words, unsurprised at the outburst. “There it is, I was wondering when we’d get to this part.” Peter grumbled with a huff, then he crossed his arms at the man. “And what, I should have just let you get shot? Let Colonel Rhodes get shot?"
“N- YES! Yes, you should have let me get shot if it meant NOT throwing yourself in front a fucking bullet Peter!” The man bellowed, finally losing whatever lid he’d managed to keep on his temper till now.
“But you would have died!” Peter protested desperately. “I have crazy durability, Mr. Stark, and enhanced healing, you don’t. It was the right call, and you know it!”
“Ohhh, the right call, now, huh?”
Peter gripped his hair in frustration. “It would have killed you!”
“It almost killed YOU, Peter! It did, for about 30 seconds. You hearing me? I flew you back here, bleeding out on death’s door and then you fucking knocked. OK? I was terrified out of my goddamn mind the entire time and now you’re just- you’re fine I guess and I’m still so fucking terrified and I’m just- I’m furious.” Stark ranted, losing himself to his spiraling hysteria. “And I have no right to be mad at you, but I am, alright?” Tony’s rage was now edged with anguish. “Just, just please, promise me you’ll never do that again.”
“Wha- no!”
“God dammit, promise me, Peter.” The billionaire hissed but Peter just leaned forward, scowling.
“No, I won't! How could you ask me to after-” Angry tears started burning in the kid’s red rimmed eyes as he panted through his fervent words. "I already let my Uncle die, Mr. Stark, I can’t- There’s no way I’m just going to stand there and let someone- someone kill you.'' He threw his arms wide for emphasis then abruptly curled in on himself with an aborted cry of pain when the movement pulled violently at his wound.
Tony rushed to sit back on the bed and clamped the boy’s arms down against his sides, stopping his flailing. “Okay okay,” the mechanic breathed frantically, “Jesus, Joan of Arc, calm down. Calm down.”
“No, I won’t calm down, not until you listen to me.” Peter’s pleading eyes bored into his, desperately willing the man to understand.
When an overwrought tear spilled over onto the kid’s cheek, Tony’s heart skipped. God this kid… he had a guilt complex big enough to rival his own. Match that with his misplaced hero worship and an unshakeable moral code and he knew there was nothing he could say that would change the kid’s mind. Peter had wormed his way into Tony’s life, somehow rooted in a field he’d thought was barren, and holy shit, he’d nearly lost him…
Tony pulled the boy against him in a rough hug. Peter hiccuped heaving breaths into his shoulder, too worked up to process his surprise.
“I’m listening, kid.” Tony sighed. One of his hands moved up to cup the back of the kid’s head where it pressed into his shoulder. “I’m listening. I’m sorry, I didn’t want to- Shit, I always make things worse- ”
“That’s not true.” Peter refuted, his arms coming up to grip fistfuls of the back of the man’s shirt. He buried his face in the mechanic’s shoulder, a faint blend of laundry detergent, coffee, motor oil and aftershave creating a familiar smell he’d come to associate with his mentor. He’d nearly lost this, again, and here they were, fighting like idiots.
“Kid… the idea that you’d sacrifice yourself for me - ever - it kills me. I don't- I’m not…” Tony trailed off, not wanting to burden Peter with his self-deprecating bullshit but not sure how to make the kid understand that he wasn’t worth it, not when it was Peter’s life on the line.
“I know.” Peter mumbled into the cotton tee, as if he knew what the troubled man had been trying unsuccessfully to say. “Too bad. I don’t regret it.”
Tony dropped his cheek against the top of the boy’s head. He guessed they’d come to a truce, neither getting what they wanted. For Tony, letting out his panicked energy during his rant had at least left him drained and strangely calm. He pulled away from the kid and looked at him, taking in his red puffy eyes and resolute expression.
“May wasn’t kidding when she said you were stubborn.” Peter gave a weak laugh and Tony shifted back on the side of the bed, brushing off his shirt as if wiping away the embarrassing sentimental moment. “Rhodey wanted me to tell you thanks, by the way, for the whole Hero’s Sacrifice thing. He stayed with you too most of the day. Just left to get some shut eye about an hour ago.”
“O-oh, um, that was cool of him.” Peter replied awkwardly. There was a heavy silence, then he peered up at the man. “I guess he knows now?”
Tony shrugged. “It was kind of unavoidable, kid, but you can trust him, I promise.”
Peter nodded contemplatively, looking down at his hands where they tangled in the hospital blanket. “I know. You even said this morning that he was gonna figure it out eventually, so I guess, at least that’s one less thing to worry about now.”
“That's the spirit.” Tony deadpanned, but his half-smile dropped at Peter’s serious expression.
“Did- did they catch the motorcycle guy?”
“Yeah.” Tony shrugged casually and looked away. “Turns out it was a hired gun; we’re still figuring out who bankrolled it. In the meantime, the ones who tipped ‘em off are in the can too. Always a gamble, putting a reservation under my name. A particularly nice table’s been worth the target on my back a few times though.” He mused. Instead of the morbid joke eliciting a laugh, the kid sucked in a horrified breath.
“It was… a- a hit? On you?” Peter’s question was simultaneously incredulous and fearful. Tony’s features softened when they met the worried expression of his protégé.
“Not the first, probably won’t be the last. I mean, look who you're talking to… Comes with the territory, kid.”
“Of being Iron Man?”
“Of being Tony Stark. Not everyone’s a fan, Pete. It’s only when other people get hurt, like this, that it gets to me.” The kid had paled at the revelation but nodded slowly. He’d known Mr. Stark had enemies, both as Iron Man and as the business man, but experiencing the reality of it was something else.
“But don’t worry about that, we’ve got people who'll take care of it.” A pause. “Namely my security team and the police.” He quickly amended, remembering the last time he wasn’t clear with Peter about who exactly was taking care of what. Peter nodded slowly but looked troubled anyway. He was also starting to look tired, sagging back against the pile of pillows behind him. Tony figured he’d try one last time.
“I don’t suppose I can make you promise never to step in front of a bullet again.”
Peter shook his head. “Not if it would save someone… especially if it’s you.”
Tony sighed dramatically and buried his face in his hands.
“Can I come back to the Tower next weekend?” The teen asked, changing the topic abruptly like they hadn’t just been talking about litieral life and death. “May’s gonna be out all weekend redoing her certifications and it’s boring when she’s not around, and all my web stuff is here… I wanted to keep tinkering with my 5.0 formula… If that’s okay?”
The billionaire just stared. Peter’d gotten shot, nearly died, because of his proximity to him and he just… wanted to come right back for more? The kid was either incredibly brave or incredibly stupid. Maybe both. He deflated.
“Sure, Pete."
"Awesome."
"But we probably won’t be doing any public appearances for a while.”
“Yeah. Yeah.” Peter agreed hurriedly, nodding and closing his eyes as he shifted down into the pillows, already starting to drop off. “Totally. Outside’s... overrated. Who needs it? I got… you…” His voice trailed off as his eyes dropped closed. He was out.
Tony stood carefully, taking care not to jostle the bed, and paused to contemplate the sleeping teen vigilante. He was still terrified… maybe more so now than he was before. But… he couldn’t help the swell of warmth in his chest that seemed to make it all worth it. Walking out, he manually eased the lights back off on his way. Once in the empty hallway, he pressed his back against the closed door and dropped his head back against it with a soft thunk.
“Yeah, Pete,” He murmured quietly, “you got me.”