Archive of Our Own ^beta

Fire and smoke filled his nostrils as he stood up from the wreckage. Metal pieces of the plane were spread out across the beach. The taste of blood was hot on his lips. His ears rang as the fiery feeling of pain pressed down on his skull. He didn’t care if he was hurt. He didn’t care if his entire career as an arms dealer was over. He just wanted Spider-Man. And he wanted him dead. 

         Grunting and cringing under the weight of his wings, Toomes slowly lifted the heavy arsenal off the sand and scanned the wreckage for any sign of the red-hooded brat. His visuals in his helmet glitched in a green haze, the smoke clouding his vision.

He couldn’t believe he let his own daughter go on a date with him. The first time he saw him standing at his front door, he thought he was just some nervous sap of a young man sick with love over his daughter. But when he realized he was more than that, knowing everything that was going to happen, he’d wished he had pulled that gun on him in the car and ended it right there. 

         The visuals cleared and that’s when he spotted him; a red figure stumbling around the wreckage just a few yards ahead of him. He seemed disoriented and unaware of his surroundings. He took advantage of that and gritted his teeth, plunging the buttons to his wing controls and shot up awkwardly in the sky. Sputtering on his wings, sparks flying from it’s hinges, Toomes dived straight for the unmasked hero, seeing the look of shock on his face before he pounced on him full force. Spider-Man was jostled forward and Toomes landed just a few feet away from him. He stumbled back on the ground, nearly falling over as his wings gawkily glided, spewing fire of white and blue as Toomes strained to stand up under the heavy weight. He struggled to stay balanced, his wings ticking in movement and multiple warning signs flickered onto the screen. Toomes pushed those aside and turned his attention towards Spider-Man. 

Peter Parker stood just a few feet in front of him, a look of terror growing on his face. Toomes briefly noted that he looked a lot more like a vulnerable teenager than he did before. But then he remembered what that “ teenager” did to him, to his family, and how his family was going to have to suffer because of him. 

Clenching his metal clad fists, he stood up straighter and smiled smugly under the green-eyed helmet. 

“ Hey Pedro.” 

  Peter’s eyes widened for a moment before Toomes fired up his boosters as much as he could and flew straight at the boy. Peter reacted quickly and ducked, rolling away just as Toomes flew right above him. He stopped in midair, wings sparking blue in every direction. Not wanting to give up a fight, Toomes turned again when the teenager used his annoying web shooters and shot a web at one of his wings. He missed and Toomes took the opportunity to quickly pounce on him, clamping down his metal claws on his boots hard on his chest, pinning him down to the ground. Peter yelled in pain as Toomes didn’t hesitate to punch the kid over and over in the face, releasing all his rage on the boy. When the kid caught one of his fists in mid-air, Toomes struggled to let go and immediately lifted Spider-Man into the air. He tried kicking that kid’s iron grip from his hand when Peter pried his talons apart and fell towards the ground.

He vaguely hoped that he would die on impact, but Peter quickly shot out a web, bumping into some wreckage before shooting up towards him again. He saw red as the kid kicked him in the face then landed on top of him as Toomes tossed the spider-brat around and spun him before dropping him to the ground. Peter landed hard and Toomes didn’t waste a second and pounced on top of him, banging him against the ground several times making sure he was out for the count. 

After several bouts, Toomes finally released him and let Peter land limply onto the ground. He hovered over him like a bird over it’s prey when Peter Parker slowly turned himself over, not hiding his pure exhaustion. Toomes dove one of his wing tips into Peter’s hood, lifting him off the ground, bloodied and weak. 

Peter didn’t respond. His eyes were puffy and half-closed and his spider-outfit was covered in sand and ashes. Blood sprouted across his chest as he struggled to breathe as he dangled there. Toomes stared at him a moment through his helmet, wondering how he should end this nuisance he came to know as Spider-Man. He thought about strangling him, but when he looked at Peter once more, he couldn’t help but think how he much younger he looked and that he was still the young teenager he really was. It was easy to drop a building on him when he had his mask on. He knew that he couldn’t have a teenager interfering with his business. Interfering with his life. But now, seeing him face-to-face, Toomes started to feel like he couldn’t got through with it again. That same feeling, that same sick feeling he got in his gut that he hated so much started to nag at him, and he faltered in his place. He didn’t want to kill him, but he knew that if he lived, he would turn him in, and then his family’s future would be ruined.   

Toomes brought Peter’s injured form closer to himself, psyching himself up to finish the job, when he spotted one of the crates from the plane just a few feet ahead. The crate was in tact and spilling out shiny new arc reactors, just beaconing for him to take it. 

“ Bingo.” 

Dropping the teenager like a rag doll to the ground, Toomes took off his damaged helmet and carelessly tossed it to the side. Wiping his sweaty brow, he smiled and punched the controls on his suit, gliding hungrily towards his prize. He grasped onto it with his boot claws and lifted the heavy crate, his damaged wing boosters giving all they got. Toomes carried the heavy load off the ground, his wings sputtering and wheezing, raining sparks across the wreckage. He heard a faint voice from behind telling him his wings were going to explode, but he didn’t listen, and continued on flying towards his destination. He felt a tug and some resistance from behind and he stopped, letting a groan escape from his lips. 

“ Stop!” 

He turned around to see Spider-Man, still standing, a web latched onto his precious cargo. Toomes rolled his eyes, smiling to himself. This kid just won’t give up.

“ Time to go home Pete.” 

   “ I’m trying to save you!”

Peter held strong to the crate, his bloodied face scrunching with what little strength he had left. Toomes had to admit, this kid had heart. But he had to go and support his family. He didn’t have time to waste with annoying enhanced teenagers trying to be a hero. Cutting off the remaining web with his wing, he sent Peter toppling back to the ground and Toomes turned to fly away. Sparks showered over the fire ridden wreckage as he reached a higher altitude, his controls suddenly becoming harder to control. Toomes started to realize something was wrong, when wings convulsed and screeched as a faint whirring sounded from his engines until it grew and suddenly burst and fire spewed in every direction. 

Toomes felt himself falling from the sky, his metal wings dragging him down with them. He quickly unbuckled his restraints and beat his wings to the ground right after the crate. Pain banged against his body and he held his breathe as his witnessed life’s work about to crush him. His wings fell in slow motion and his life flashed before his eyes. He wondered if it was all really worth it, when a sticky substance clung to his side and he was flung out of the way just as the wings crashed in his place. Toomes landed hard, dark spots dancing in his vision. He rolled across the sand, fire and darkness spinning in every direction. A crash sounded in the distance and then an explosion burst in his eardrums. Heat seared at his skin, as he rolled to a stop, blue and white flashing before his eyes, and the world faded into darkness… 

——————————————————————————————————————————

Ringing pulsed in his ears as the distant sounds filtered in around him. Toomes dimly felt the ground beneath him as he groaned and he slid his hand across the sand. The taste of sand and ash clung thickly to his mouth, and he coughed harshly as he pushed himself up. He twisted himself into a sitting position, his leg throbbing pain as he gasped and propped himself up, noticing his left leg was bent an awkward position. He braced his ribs with his other hand and vaguely noticed the spiderweb still hanging from his side, groaning in discomfort as his head spun in stabbing pain. Light fluttered blurringly before him and he blinked several times, wiping off the crusty grains from his eyes to see clearly the image that was before him. 

The ruins of his once prospering empire was strewn all across the beach. The mangled heap of the advanced wing suit was consumed in flames and the exploded remnants of the arc reactors shattered into lifeless pieces of glass scattered around his feet. All that he ever worked for was gone. The life he wanted was gone. His family’s life was nothing more than back into the sewer from once they came. 

Toomes grunted as he stood up on his twisted leg. He stood there, taking in the desolation before him, his eyes blank in shock. He stood there, balling a fist and gritting his teeth into an unshakable anger until he couldn’t stand it anymore and cried out in anguish, hitting himself in the shin. There was only one person responsible for this. 

Ripping off the annoying spiderweb from his ribs, he looked around, and feverishly saw Peter’s limp form lying motionless in the sand. Dragging his throbbing leg towards him, he cursed under his breathe, remembering all the things that Spider-Man had ever done to him.

Hungrily hovering over his face, Toomes looked down upon Peter’s young bloodied body with a menacing snarl under his tongue as he yelled, 

   “ Look at what you’ve done!! You’ve ruined me! You’ve ruined everything!! What did I say about not getting involved here?! Huh?! Didn’t I tell you not to mess with my business again??! Huh?!!” 

  Peter just laid there, motionless. He didn’t move except for several uneven, hitched breaths, coughing in response.

“ Hey!” 

He nudged Peter’s limp body with his boot, his body flipping carelessly onto his back. His eyes were swollen shut and his lip bled as his face blossomed with red and purple bruises on his cheeks. He knelt awkwardly to the ground, growling in frustration as he turned his face towards himself and swatted his cheek several times.

“ Hey! Can you hear me?!” 

When he didn’t respond, he released his chin, letting his head roll lifelessly to the side. Toomes knelt there, unsure of what to do. His plan for choking him to death earlier crossed his mind, but for some reason it didn’t have the same appeal as it did before. He started to have that same sickening feeling blossom in his gut, and he pondered what he should do next as he knelt down by the downed Spiderman. Peter barely moved, breathing shallow breathes as his chest slowly rose and fell with each action. His red and blue hoodie-outfit was smeared in sand and ash, cuts from his claws clear on the dark red spots staining the faded spider-symbol. His eyes roved towards his web shooters, and one of them had a stray strand of web sticking out. It splayed out across his body, wound around him loosely like he’d rolled himself in it. Toomes fingered the strand of web that clung to his arm, then realized what he had done.  

Wiping his sweaty face, Toomes stared widely down at the young hero, his hero, and immediately balled his hand into a fist into the ground and said, 

“ I’m such an idiot.” 

Peter suddenly gasped and sputtered, convulsing as he coughing dryly into the air. Toomes immediately became alert, watching as Peter’s blood shot, red eyes fluttered open and slowly rove across the sky. His head moved sluggishly and he flicked his wrists over his ribs before turning weakly towards Toomes, his eyes suddenly growing wide. Toomes looked calmly at Peter, offering him a blank expression as Peter gaped at him, gulping several times before croaking in a very small, painfully young, voice,

“ Are… are you going to kill me??” 

Taken back by this, Toomes rubbed his chin thoughtfully then stared grimly down at the sand.

“ I probably should,” he said, more to himself.  

Peter smacked his lips, tasting the copper dripping down them, and his eyes watered as he pleaded in a shuttering gasp,

“ Don’t… please… please don’t.” 

Toomes looked down at Peter and met his moist, brown eyes. They squeezed out tears every time he blinked, the drops rolling steadily down his bruised cheeks. His body was shaking in pure terror, his breathes hitched as sweat glistened on his forehead. This wasn’t the same strong, vigilante he had fought before. This was a kid. And he was terrified. 

Something punched in his gut as he looked down at Peter and he reconsidered all of his options. If he let him live, he knew that meant possibly life in prison. Never going to see his family again, never going to see his daughter grow up and graduate. But then, he also couldn’t live with the thought that Peter Parker was the one who saved his daughter’s life, then his life, and then killing that same person, a kid no less, when he was the only one who didn’t do anything wrong. 

Toomes stared down at the ground, avoiding Peter’s pleading eyes, absently winding the stray web around his thumbs. When he started this business, he knew that he had to do some dirty work, and that he was not really going to enjoy it. It was easy knowing that they weren’t children, but that same time, that same feeling kept haunting him and every time he did all that he could to stuff that feeling down, reminding himself it was for a good cause. The fact that an enhanced super human teenage boy dressed in a red spandex costume, who so happened to fall in love with his daughter, was the one who stopped him told him how much his luck was worth. Yes, he might’ve destroyed his business. Yes his family life maybe ruined. But still, he was done running from it. He wasn’t going to ignore that feeling anymore. 

Toomes looked down at Peter with clear blue eyes and said in a low, mild voice, 

“ I’m not going to kill you.” 

Peter sighed and his body relaxed, sagging in relief as he lightly coughed into the sand. He gratefully took several deep breathes then lolled weakly on the ground.  

Toomes stood awkwardly up on his legs, his gaze turning toward the city. Then he turned and looked upon the young hero one last time and said, 

“ Take care of Liz for me, Pete. She deserves you better than I do.”

Peter sagged weakly in his spot, staring helplessly at Toomes as he limped towards the city. Fires licked lazily along the beach as Toomes slowly dragged his legs one step at a time. He knew that he would have to live his life on the run, change his name, maybe even wear a different face. But at least he wouldn’t go to jail, knowing his family would be devastated. His mind wandered briefly to the thought of maybe not leaving the kid alone like that, but he pushed it out of the way, assuring himself that the Feds would take care of him. As he pushed his bum leg forward, he heard a gasp and he quickly turned behind him. 

Peter was grasping his neck, his throat tight as his mouth opened and closed like he was trying to say something. His face morphed into a frantic expression, shaking as small wheezes escaped from his lungs. Whether it was a parental instinct or something else entirely, Toomes immediately responded and quickly and painfully fell back down beside Peter. He turned him quickly on his side so he could breathe, and Peter gasped and coughed as Toomes gently patted his back, saying, 

“ It’s okay, just breathe, okay? That’s it.” 

Peter kept on coughing and Toomes placed a hand on his shoulder to stabilize.

“ That’s it, that it. You’re doing good.”  

Peter’s coughing finally started to slow, and he gasped until he wearily rolled back onto his back, gurgling in his throat as red splattered across the ground. Toomes sighed gratefully until he spotted the dribble of red traveling down his chin. He turned his face towards him to get a better look and he gulped at what he was saw. 

Blood. That’s not good. 

Toomes wiped his mouth anxiously and wondered what he should do. He used a bandana from his pocket to wipe off the blood dripping from Peter’s chin. Peter stirred feverishly, his face smeared with dirt and blood. He glistened with sweat as his hue appeared sickeningly pale under the ash. Toomes cupped his hand under the boy’s neck and scanned the rest of his body, concerned that he had internal injuries. Then, sliding his hand under his back and moving his legs onto his lap, he carefully lifted him up out of the sand and placed his head softly against his shoulder. Peter sagged weakly against his body, his disheveled, sand-coated locks tickling Toome’s cheeks, making the situation all too real for him. He pushed back the offending curls as the guilt rose within him, and he staved off the vomit in his throat. 

What have I done?

Peter moaned under his touch and shook violently as his breathes came in weakly shutters. His young body shivered and spasmed as he hacked into his chest, and Toomes wondered how long he had to live. 

As Toomes sat there holding his adversary, he realized he was running out of options. He couldn’t just leave him, but he couldn’t stay there either. He knew the feds were coming. He could practically hear their sirens and the familiar click of a gun coming for him. He had to get out of there and hightail it before he got caught. He looked out towards the city, it’s bright lights beaconing to him. His eyes roved the beach for any sign of an option and toyed with the idea that maybe the feds would arrive in time to take the boy to a hospital. But what if that was hours? Peter didn’t have hours. 

Toomes quickly racked his brain and mediated between two options: Either stay and take care of Peter and most likely get caught and sent to prison the rest of his life. Or… leave him there and fend for himself, hoping that the Feds would arrive soon to save the boy. But he knew that second option was a slim chance for the kid. Toomes couldn’t bear the thought of leaving Spider-Man, a kid, to die alone. Not after he just saved his life. 

He looked down at the curly brown head, knowing what he had to do. Holding tightly to the bundle of red and blue as he coughed into his shoulder, he softly whispered in his ear, 

“ Hey, I’m going to help you. You hear me? I’m going to help you, I’m going to drop you off to the nearest hospital and then I’ll be on my way. Okay? You got that Peter? Do you trust me?” 

Peter stopped, breathing heavily then leaned limply onto his shoulder, his head lifting into a slow nod. Toomes was baffled for a moment that he trusted him so easily. After all that he had done to him, all the times he tried to kill him, he trusted him. He trusted him with his life. Suddenly, the weight that he was about to carry felt heavier than before, and he looked down at the young hero and squeezed his arms assuredly. 

He gathered Peter’s red-clad boots to his chest then rose on one shaky knee at a time. He gritted his teeth as he swallowed down bile, grunting from the excruciating pain shooting up his leg, and lifted the wiped out hero, settling him comfortably in his arms. Peter’s head lolled carelessly onto his shoulder, tickling his neck hairs as he blew shallow breathes. Toomes slowly but surely forced his heavy boots across the sand, setting his jaw as he set out across the fire riddled beach.  

“ Come on, Spider-Man. Let’s get you home.” 

—————————————————————————————————————————

Twenty minutes after Happy had sent the cargo plane out to its destination, Tony Stark and himself were having a drink in the lounge. The lounge was now empty save for several boxes and a sofa as well as some drinks Tony managed to leave behind. Happy sat on the sofa, holding his glass all while listening dutifully to his boss. He knew Tony had been a little frustrated lately with the kid when he came back from his trip in India when he had disobeyed some of Tony’s code of super-hero-safety-conduct. But when he’d lost sight of him in D.C. and he couldn’t track him anywhere from there, he called Tony and then later ended up hearing about the ferry the kid accidentally caused to fall apart, he didn’t blame Tony for being this upset. Heck, he was bit upset himself being the head of security and here letting a fifteen-year-old kid hack a multi-million dollar suit and go around sneaking behind his back. It was definitely bruising his pride. 

Tony gripped tightly to his champagne glass, pacing back and forth on the floor in his greasy AC/DC shirt as he ranted on. 

“ I mean, I told him! I told him, ‘ Don’t do what I would do, and definitely not something I wouldn’t do.’ He was supposed to stay in that one little gray area of safety where he can be his own friendly neighborhood Spider-Man. Out of harms way, or at least any harm that could damage him for life. But does he listen to me? No! Instead, he goes to stop an massive weapons exchange on board a ferry, endangering dozens of lives all while getting his butt kicked by this flying freak he keeps calling the “ Vulture”, allowing the ferry to literally break apart and I have to be the one to swoop in and save him, making sure nobody else dies on his account. If it weren’t for me, I swear that he wouldn’t even be alive today to finish middle school.” 

“ High school. He’s in high school,” Happy corrected from his seat. 

“ Well whatever, he’s still in school!” Tony countered flippantly, “ And now, he had to make me take his suit to make sure that he stays alive! He just had to make me do that!” 

“ Wait, what?! You took the kid’s suit?” Happy asked, alarmed.

“ Yes, Happy! I took the kid’s suit!” Tony answered hotly. 

“ What? Why?!” 

“ Because I thought it would teach him a lesson!! Okay?! I thought that by taking the kid’s suit, he would have to accept the fact that life isn’t just something he can just throw away, like one of those disposable Kleenex’s! Life isn’t like that! And yet he acts like nothing could possibly hurt him or kill him, risking his life until something really bad happens! I wanted to show the kid that he wasn’t ready, and I….” 

Tony sank down onto one of the bar stools, pinching his nose as he bore a look of defeat. Happy stared quietly at his boss, worried for a moment that he might have a stroke. After a few moments of silence, Tony sighed and breathed in a much lower, milder voice,

“ I just wished I never brought him to Germany, then maybe none of this would’ve happened.” 

Tony took a gulp from his glass and Happy stayed silent for a few moments before speaking up and saying, 

“ Do you really regret bringing him along?” 

Bringing out an exasperated sigh, Tony rubbed his tired face and stared ahead for a minute, pondering the question, before coming around with a sobered expression, 

“ Well, maybe not. I don’t know. I just don’t want the kid to get hurt, you know? He’s just a kid. He’s fifteen. If anything, he shouldn’t have to be doing any of this.”

“ But he is,” Happy pointed out. 

Tony sighed and replied, “ I don’t know, Happy. Maybe I shouldn’t have gone down that road. Maybe I pushed it a little too far. I just can’t stop seeing myself when he gave me that look, that look I swore I gave my dad when he told me that I was good for nothing. I just can’t seem to break the pattern.”

Happy sat thoughtfully as he gazed at his boss. They had been friends for so long and he knew almost all of Tony’s ups and downs. He probably knew his boss better than he knew himself. Of all the things he was afraid of, he knew it was becoming Howard Stark. And that fear, as of recently, was becoming more of a reality ever since the kid entered into their lives. Tony was afraid that he’d turn out like him and mess up, so he tries not to get too attached, even though he likes him very much and he won’t admit it. Even he was growing fond off the kid, and he admitted that he liked having him around.

“ Tony,” Happy began carefully,” Maybe… you should trust the kid more? You know, he’s more than just a regular kid.” 

“ I know that, I know. And I probably should. You’re right. It’s just I can’t stand to…” 

Tony stopped mid-sentence when he spotted a red orange light glint in the corner of his eye. A pulsing orange glow streaked slowly across the window. Tony moved to get up from his stool and tentatively stepped towards the phenomenon. Happy waited for his boss to finish when he saw it too then slowly got up with him. Both of them stepped cautiously towards the window, glued to the spectacle in the distance. A plane was going down just above Coney Island, a crashing fire ball as it disappeared below the buildings. The descent sent a chill down their spines, and the silence that followed was deafening to their ears. Tony didn’t even realize that he was not breathing. 

“ Happy… did you say the plane took off just twenty minutes ago, right?” Tony asked, his gaze fixed on the window. 

“ Uh… yes sir I did,” he replied.  

“ And have you been tracking it?” 

“ Uh, up to a few minutes ago,” Happy stated, suddenly tense. 

“ Check the plane’s status and see if it’s still in the air,” Tony requested all while staying glued to the window as if the plane would reappear any minute. 

Happy immediately strode over to his laptop, flipping the screen on and typing quickly into the keys until he stopped and looked over the results. 

“ It’s still in the air, I don’t see how it couldn’t be,” he spoke up from the counter.  

Tony kept staring at the sky where the plane was, unable to keep back a horrible feeling inside his gut. A dozen scenarios started playing in his mind, and he started to feel like something really bad had happened. 

The kid said that guy he was tracking down was stealing technology. 

            What if he was… 

He didn’t even want to finish that thought. Tony turned towards Happy, finding his face bearing the same look. 

“ Happy, I’ve got a bad feeling…” 

—————————————————————————————————————————

Toomes stumbled wearily through the maze of fire and ashes, coughing from the smoke hanging heavily in the air. Dragging his twisted leg from under him, he wheezed as he gasped from the burning pain, dripping sweat as he slid one booted foot in front of the other. His legs shook miserably from under the weight, his biceps stretched to the limits( man, how much did this kid exercise?) and adjusted the injured boy in his arms. He started to regret his decision as he stumbled over his feet, but he held fast, making sure he wouldn’t hurt the young hero ever again. 

As Toomes slothfully made his way across the fire-filled beach, Peter laid perfectly still in his arms. His ragged breathes blew lightly into his neck, his mouth moved slightly as he made an occasional moan, sinking into a pain-induced sleep. He made some gurgling noises which disturbed Toomes greatly, and he wondered if he was even aware of him half the time. He still couldn’t believe that he was the same guy who fought him on the ferry and the same kid who lay bloodied in his arms, who’s far younger than his alter-ego suggests. He just couldn’t reconcile the two in his mind, but right now he had only one thought: 

Get to the hospital. Ditch the Feds. 

The saying circled in his head so many times that it soon became a mantra every time his legs wanted to give out. The hospital was only several more miles from the beach, and all he had to do was get there. Once he did, then he could ditch the kid and everything would be easy going from there. 

Toomes kept a sturdy hand on the small muscular body and his mind wandered to how they ended up there in the first place. Sure, this wasn’t at all how he imagined this night to go. All he thought was to go drop off his daughter and her date to that dance, then go and pull off that Stark job and get paid, not end up crashing on a beach on a plane fighting Spider-Man, who is just a kid who also happens to be his daughter’s boyfriend. How ironic fate chooses his luck. Toomes laughed at the mere thought of it. Of course, he knew in the back of his mind that he would be back, and that he and the Spider would have a run in together, and sure enough, his prediction came true. The way it happened though he did not expect, and falling into the secret of his identity changed everything. Except now he had to save his life, and hopefully he would be able to in time to catch the bus so he could disappear. 

Toomes carefully navigated around another piece of burning garbage, his biceps taut as he carried the boy across the wreckage. Peter jostled slightly and he moaned and Toomes gently comforted him,

“ We’re almost there, Pete. We’re almost there. Just hang in there.”

Peter didn’t respond, and he strode forward painfully when a sudden whirring echoed in his ears. He looked up to the sky and saw a white trail of smoke speeding rapidly towards them. Before he knew it, a flash of red and gold landed, Iron Man appearing through the cloud as he raised his repulsers at him.  

Toomes froze in his place, startled, holding fast to Peter. Iron Man glared through his helmet, orange light gleaming off the rigid metal. 

“ Put. My. Kid. Down. Now.” 

Toomes glanced between Peter and Iron Man, his eyebrows bent in a furrow. 

“ He’s your kid? I thought he was May Parkers?” Toomes found himself asking.   

“ No, no! He’s not mine. He’s just…agh! You’ve got about five seconds before I cream that bald head of yours off the face of the earth! Just put the kid down, or I’ll release my wrath!” 

Glancing down at Peter resting uncomfortably against his shoulder, Toomes obeyed, carefully lowering him to the ground. His bent his aching knees, his leg screaming in pain as he grunted and moved it underneath him and gently set the boy down. His elbow briefly grazing the hilt of his pistol as his hand brushed against Peter’s sweaty curls. He let his head loll softly onto the sand, a quiet moan escaping his lips as his body weighed down to the earth. 

           A pure instinct took over Toomes and he drew his gun before he knew what he was doing and placed it directly into Peter’s curls. 

Tony stopped short, his repulser faltered and his helmet lifted up, revealing a face bent in an emotion he thought he’d never see on Tony Stark: fear. 

“ Please.. please don’t hurt him,” he pleaded, his desperate tone somewhat pleasing in Toome’s ears. His intense desperation almost sounded parental. Almost like a father. 

            “ You want the kid? You have to agree to my terms,” Toomes demanded before he could hesitate. 

“ What terms?” Tony asked, terrified.  

The sick feeling Toomes felt in his stomach vanished and was quickly replaced with a familiar sense of confidence, and he sat straighter before Tony Stark as he demanded in a bolder tone, 

“ I’ll give him to you on one condition: That you’d erase all knowledge of my theft of your technology, and that you’d give me a payment of a million dollars .” 

“ And why would I do that?” Tony asked, annoyed. 

“ To pay for everything you did to my family, for everything you put us through. And if you don’t, I’ll…” 

Toomes looked down at Peter, and considered what kind of a threat he’d pose toTony Stark. He didn’t want to hurt Peter. He’d already hurt him enough. The kid could barely even move let alone defend himself. Yet the desperation of not going to jail and never seeing his family again burned deeply in his heart. He would never let go of Stark paying for all the suffering that he had put him and his family through. He remembered vividly the day Tony Stark ruined his future. 

“ You’d what?” 

Stark’s voice almost sounded scared of what he might say. His face took on a look of dread and horror as he eyed the gun that was pointed to his kid’s face. He realized that Stark was summoning all his will just to stay where he was. His body was drawn as tight as a draw string, resisting the urge to rush over and scoop up his kid, taking him away to safety. His arms longed to hold his boy as he struggled to curb that deep, primal instinct to protect. He understood that.  

Toomes pushed down all remaining sympathy down for Tony Stark and he glared as he finished in a menacing tone, 

“ If you don’t give me what I want, I’ll take what you love away from you.” 

For some reason, those words coming from his mouth didn’t seem right. Bile just rose on his tongue, and he swallowed it down, pondering what he just said. If anyone else had said that to him about his daughter, he would’ve stopped at nothing to save his daughter. But in this case, he would be helpless. And Tony Stark was helpless. 

Tony didn’t move at first, his repulser frozen in place, aimed at his head. Toomes wondered if it was even possible for him to love anyone besides himself when after a couple of seconds the repulser lowered, it’s bluish glow quietly dimming down.

“ Alright, I’ll… I’ll give you the information. Just… just don’t hurt the kid and we’ll all be good, okay?” 

Toomes smiled smugly, suddenly filled with a sense of power as he kneeled over the sleeping teenager.  

“ You’d better be sure your offer is good.” 

“ Yes!! Yes! I’ll make sure that all the details are arranged, just…just don’t hurt him. Now give me the kid so I can take care of him, please.” 

Toomes stared at Stark and considered his request. He sensed his hesitation and his hand remained firmly on the trigger.

“ I’ll return Peter after I get my assurances. Not before.” 

“ But he could be dying as we speak!! Come on! Have some sense!!” Tony reasoned desperately, “ He needs to go to a hospital right now, and there’s no hospital in Queens or anywhere else in New York that has the kind of medicine or facilities that he needs. Please just let me take him! I’ll give you my PIN number if it will make you happy! Anything, just please don’t leave Peter in some warehouse to die. Our deal won’t be valid if he’s dead!” 

Toomes stared at Tony and suddenly realized his flaw. In his right mind, he knew there was no other way Stark could hand him the money without writing him a check or a digital transfer to some off shore account, and definitely not on some forsaken beach. Yet he wondered if he was really playing up the whole thing. If Stark was just stalling and that there was a way to get him his money and he was not telling him. All he knew was that he couldn’t get his assurances without turning over Peter. And he knew he couldn’t do that, because Stark would instantly bring down the Feds on him and terminate their whole deal. 

“ You don’t think I won’t do it? Huh? You don’t think I won’t pull this trigger right now?” Toomes threatened questioningly. 

“ No! That’s not what I meant!” 

“ Because I will !! You hear me?! I will pull this trigger until you give me what I want!” He shouted, pushing the gun deeper into Peter’s skull. Peter cried out in pain, and he immediately cringed, releasing some of the pressure. 

“ NO! DON’T! Don’t do it please!” Tony begged, waving his arms frantically in front of him. 

“ This isn’t a game, Stark. I know how you people play it up, taking advantage of us “ little guys” out there, well I’m done playing games Stark!” Toomes raged. Coughing broke through their feud and Toomes automatically turned Peter on his side as he convulsed and started spitting up blood across the sand.  

“ Believe me! If there was any other way, I’d get you the money, but all my accounts are locked up in a systematic grid and triple secured by our security protocol. I can’t get to them unless I have my head of security bring up all the passwords and authorizations, and that will take hours! Peter doesn’t have hours! Please believe me when I tell you, there is no other way! I can’t even write you a check if I wanted to!” 

Toomes bit his tongue, realizing then that there was no way out. The taste of copper burned sharply in his mouth as he gripped the gun tightly, feverishly looking down at Peter. A cold sweat traveled down his neck as he pressed the mouth of the gun firmly against the boy’s temple, his other hand pressing against his shoulder. His hands shook on the hilt as he saw blood pooling from the curly brown head. The red and brown curls blowing dimly against the wind as a white, young face stared ahead, Stark’s keening echoing in his mind. The image seared in his brain. 

“ No. Don’t you dare,” Tony rasped. 

Bile shot up in his mouth and the aching in his gut squeezed hard, a suffocating hand clenching his stomach. Toomes saw his daughter and the horrible images he had conceived when he had heard about the incident. How he had imagined her dangling helplessly in that elevator shaft all while Spider-Man, the kid he held a gun to, holding her and her very life in his hands by just the strand of his web. 

Toomes sucked air, his gun shaking in his grasp. Sweat trickled down the hilt as his wet thumb grazed over the trigger. His bullet was ready and cocked, and the man gritted his teeth, flooding himself with memories of what Stark did to him. And then he braced himself for the shot, waiting for the inevitable bang to sound in his ears, when he stopped, crying out and   immediately staggered onto his feet, throwing the offensive weapon to the ground. 

Toomes stood there, shaking before Stark, heaving as he squeezed his fists to his side. Tony just stood there, his face in a look of utter shock. Toomes caught his breathe as he uttered breathlessly, 

“ He’s yours. He’s yours Stark. Take him. Go.” 

Tony looked at him warily, his face screaming unbelief. Toomes swallowed thickly then repeated heavily, 

“ He’s yours Stark. He needs you more than I do.” 

Tony stared at him like he had gone out of his mind, then he found himself asking, 

“ Why?”

Toomes met his gaze, looking down at himself, then casually answered, “ Let’s just say it’s a father’s respect. From one father to another.” 

Tony didn’t miss the choice word “ father’ as well as the knowing glint in Toomes’ eye. He didn’t know what to make of it and just stood there like an idiot, not sure of what to do. Toomes sighed, a look of sincerity meeting Stark’s questioning eyes. 

“ I have a daughter, and I understand. I just hope you remember that, Stark,” he went on vaguely as he glanced soberly down at Peter. Tony stared at the young boy lying on the ground, and realized what he was saying. Tony swallowed the bile that lingered inside his mouth and he released some of the tension in his shoulders, lifting his repulser as his voice steeled in renewed confidence, 

“ Alright, back away from him. Nice and slow.” 

Toomes reluctantly lifted his hands then slowly and limply started to back up. Tony stepped forward and Toomes backed away from Stark simultaneously just as the Feds showed up and came out of nowhere, shouting and tackling the Vulture to the ground. His hands were yanked behind his back, cuffed as he grunted and was pulled up by one of the agents and  roughly led away from the beach. The men started escorting him towards one of the black cars when he glanced briefly at Tony and Peter, smiling knowing they were going to be okay. He slipped into the backseat then let the car door slam on his freedom and the car drove away, leaving the millionaire and the teenager. 

Tony fell to his knees as he suddenly lost the strength to stand. He skidded next to Peter, his arc reactor thumping a mile a minute.

“ Peter? Peter?” 

His heart palpitated dangerously in his chest, his arc reactor feeling like it was going to explode. Fingers hovered anxiously over Peter, taking note of the blood and bruises that littered all over his body. Blood. Blood was everywhere. It streamed down his mouth, it came out of his ears. It was everywhere. Stark gagged and grasped for his heart and blinked back the spots in his eyes. He took a shuttering gasp then laid a metal hand tentatively onto Peter’s chest. 

“ F.R.I.D.A.Y.?” Tony rasped raggedly.

“ Vitals unstable. Detecting severe lacerations and multiple fractures particularly in the upper chest area, as well as possible pulmonary contusions in lungs and hemorrhaging. A mild concussion was sustained and heart rate is 110 beats per minute. Immediate medical attention is advised.” 

“ Tell Happy to bring the chopper here, pronto,” Tony ordered tightly, on the edge of a panic attack.

“ Yes Boss.” 

Tony sucked in a stagnant breathe, trying to keep himself together. He shed the suit and slowly gathered Peter into his arms, his suit standing sentry on the beach. Peter whimpered quietly as he laid his head softly into his lap, his body resting across his thighs. His eyes fluttered half open as he blinked, looking wearily up at Mr. Stark. Tony placed a sweaty hand onto his cheek, unable to keep the tension from his voice and said, 

“ Peter? Can you hear me bud?” 

Peter’s eyes were glazed and he blinked sluggishly several times before sputtering and gasping, his face contorting in pain. Tony held firmly to Peter as he practically coughed up a lung until he collapsed on his lap, his head lolling to the side. Red dribbled down his chin and he sniffed as blood oozed from his nose, a wet cough bubbling in his throat. Tony gasped and aggressively ripped at his shirt, tearing a piece off and immediately began wiping off the cool blood from his nose. As Tony worked, he revealed more and more of the young face he came to know and love, cleaning off the dirt and grime from his cheeks. He tossed the dirtied rag, soaked in red, to the side as soon as he was finished, then fervently held to Peter. 

“ Oh kid, what did he do to you?” Tony grieved, remorse melding across his face. A hand tentatively hovered over his cheek as he placed a calloused palm against the fragile face.

Peter blinked sluggishly then stared at his mentor with pooling brown eyes. Tony met them and saw those same eyes staring back at him at the Hudson, holding back tears while he told him that he wanted him to be better. The image stuck in his mind and his stomach clenched as Tony gagged and tried hard not to relive that horrible moment.

“ What if someone had died tonight? Different story right? Cause that’s on you. And if you died, I feel like that’s on me.” 

“ I just wanted to be like you.” 

“ And I wanted you to be better.” 

Peter coughed hoarsely, bringing him back to the present. He stared with wide eyes as he came around, and said with a slurred tongue, 

“ msr s’ark?” 

Tony sighed, his heart almost breaking at the sound of his small, broken voice and replied, 

“ Yes, bud, I’m here. I’m here.” 

Peter smacked his bloodied lips and mumbled quietly, 

“ where’sthevul’ tur?”

“ Oh he’s gone kid. It’s alright. It’s all over. He’s in custody now. He can’t hurt you anymore. I promise,” Tony assured, caressing his cheek. 

“ okay,” Peter breathed. His lungs had sharp stabbing knives every time he rasped, sucking in pain, heaving wearily against the heavy weight of his chest. Fire and ice burned and ached all across his body, sapping his energy and seeping into exhaustion. He swam through a fog, his head pounding against the ringing in his ears as he slowly glazed over, Mr. Stark’s face rippling before his eyes. Wetness coated the walls of his throat as he gurgled thickly and breathed several wretched coughs, the taste of wet copper and sand coating his tongue. His mind screamed at him to rest, a drugging sleep sucking at his thoughts, and he slowly tilted his sloshing head to take a nap, when Tony tilted his chin back towards himself and said, 

“ No, no. None of that, young man. You need to stay awake, you hear me? You need to stay with me.” 

Peter, disappointed, nodded wearily then settled for resting his sweaty curls against Tony’s thigh, his foggy eyes half-mast. Exhaling wearily, Tony wished for that helicopter to get there and wondered what was taking so long. 

He held Peter, frantically staving off another panic attack as he wondered how long he could stand this when he heard a faint whisper say,

“ ‘m sorry.”

“ What?” Tony asked, looking down confused at the the dirtied bundle. 

Peter swallowed thickly and said,“ ’m sorry.”

“ Sorry for what kid?” Tony asked, his voice suddenly soft with concern. 

Peter avoided his gaze, his eyes moist in the light. 

“ sorry ‘bout evrything. sorry ‘bout hackingthesuit. sorry about goin’after the vulture. I failed, msr s’ark. ’m notta good spiderman. I’m sorry.. I…” 

Peter started to cough when Tony held firmly to his face and said,

“ Hey, hey. No, no. It’s not your fault. Shh.” He immediately starts drying the tears that were falling down Peter’s cheeks. Peter sniffed, meeting his mentor’s eyes, guilt written all over his young face. 

“  I’m sorry that I took away the suit. I knew… I… I knew should’ve done better than that. I should’ve known that you are more than capable to handle the big one, pal. And you didn’t fail. You got the guy. If it weren’t for you, we wouldn’t have been able to catch him. And let me tell you something, you are the bravest, most smartest kid I ever met, and I am proud of you. I am very proud of you. You jumped right into the fight even if all you had was a…a hand-me-down onesie with a homemade stash of sticky playdough with swim goggles, and you won. You did it, and no matter what, you are always going to be Spider-Man, and there’s no changing that. Nothing.” 

Tony met the teenager’s eyes, gleaming with sincerity as Peter stared up at him with wide, glistening eyes, speechless. He laid there completely still for a moment and then without warning his face melted into a mess of sobs, his chest quivering as he cried big wet tears. 

“ Oh Peter, come here. Come here.” 

Tony gently lifted Peter’s back and he leaned him against his shirt as he cried and placed a firm hand behind the nape of his neck, rocking him back and forth. 

            “ Shhh, shhh. It’s okay. You’re okay. Shh. You’re alright. Everything’s okay. You’re okay. Shhh. You’re gonna be okay. Shhhh.” 

            Tony kept rocking the dirtied bundle, holding him close as he cried large wet drops onto his shoulder. Peter shook with every sob, hiccuping and coughing as he mumbled against his mentor’s chest. 

            The millionaire struggled to keep his own emotions at bay as his eyes brimmed with a fresh bout of tears. He briefly took in the bloodied patches that blossomed under the boy’s hoodie, and he felt his heart burst under the thought that none of this would’ve happened if he hadn’t gotten angry with him at the ferry. As he rocked him back and forth, he realized what a terrible mentor he was. He didn’t just take away his suit and his pride. He stripped away his protection. This was all his fault. 

A stray tear escaped down his grizzled cheek, and Tony squeezed Peter’s bloodied hoodie tight, clutching his head and whispered deeply into his curls, tears streaming down his face. 

“ Oh Peter, I’m sorry. I’m sososossosso sorry.”  

           He fiercely stroked through his curls as they rocked, and they stayed that way for a good few minutes. Peter’s steady cries softened until they were nothing more than mere sniffles and several wet hiccups. Tony held Peter a little while longer, basking in sweet silence as he tenderly carded through his hair.  

As their emotions started to wind down, he began to think that maybe the Vulture-guy was right. Sure, he was no Clint Barton. He could certainly never settle down and have kids, even if he wanted to. He couldn’t bring himself to bring up the topic when( or if) he ever got married to Pepper. But this whole dad thing was never really his gig. He would always go from one young buck to the next, giving them a brief “ awe-inspiring” word of wisdom and then send them on their way to fend for their own futures. He didn’t even think twice about what would happen to them afterwards. Many of his young interns were just college students eager to get a degree, most not even caring as much about the research as they did the money. 

           And then comes along this young teenager, a bright spark so full of ideas and he hadn’t  even begun to reach his full potential. No money to his name yet set on just being a good person and being a friendly neighborhood Spider-Man, ready and willing to risk his life to save another. No other person stood out to him more than he did, and that’s what caught his attention back in Germany. He never thought he would be the one to become a father figure, but then the idea started to appeal to him the more he got to know the kid.. It was only when he started to realize he was getting too attached that he pushed him away, struggling with the memories of Howard Stark’s parenting, and he kept him at an arm’s distance. And then, burying that feeling under a lot of anxiety and frustration, he did the one thing he feared he was going to do and unleashed it all on the kid. If he could go back in time and take back that one moment, he would. 

But if that Vulture guy, the guy who almost killed his kid( he still couldn’t stand the thought of him) saw that he could be a good dad, then he might as well see it too. Sure he wasn’t perfect, but still, at least he was no Howard Stark. 

Peter whimpered into his shoulder, pulling him back from his muse, and he gently adjusted the weary boy. He let him recline laxly into the crook of his arm, allowing him to rest. He cradled the boy as Peter moaned wearily, fluttering his eyes as they steadily glossed over. He slipped into a painful sleep, exhausted from the whole ordeal, and snuggled weakly into his shoulder. Tony looked on him with fondness, and pulled him close as he was lulled to sleep. Tony sat in silence for a few moments, his thoughts wandering to the idea that maybe it was okay to get close to the kid. In a way, he was already like a father figure to Peter, and he knew that the kid needed that more than anyone. He realized then how much he’d actually cared about him, and how he regarded him more like a son than a vigilante in training. He realized how attached he got to the boy, and that no one could ever have the same place in his heart as Peter. As he gently fondled the boy, he traced his finger along his cheek, making circles as he spoke in a quiet, light voice,  

“ You know what I was thinking? I was thinking you and I should get a cheeseburger  sometime? Huh? Maybe get to know each other better. And then maybe you could come by and hang out with me in my lab sometime. That would be fun right? What do you say to that?” 

Peter moaned in response, shifting ever so slightly on his lap. Tony sighed in fondness, then leaned down to place a kiss on his head and he ruffled his fluffy curls. Maybe he would be a good father… someday. And then maybe, maybe one day he’d consider having one of those munchkins of his own. Someday. 

When the distant sound of a chopper echoed in his ear, Tony sagged in relief as he turned towards the welcoming sound, The light beamed like a beacon towards them and whooshed overhead as the whirring of the helicopter descended upon them. The wind immediately picked up around them, the grey hairs on Tony’s head blowing as the helicopter lowered to the ground. It’s beating blades swirled up the sand until it’s landing gear touched down and Happy quickly emerged from the cockpit.

“ Tony? What’s going on?” He called out, worry spreading across his face.  

“ Happy, get Helen on the line. Tell her it’s an emergency and get the Medbay ready in the Tower,” Tony commanded as he carefully gathered up Peter’s legs and hoisted him up off the ground.  

“ Is that…is that Peter? Is he alright? What happened?! Tony…” 

“ I’ll explain later. Right now he needs help. Get her on the horn and go as fast as you can,” Tony ordered as he carried the injured boy. 

“ Alright, alright, the Medbay should still be stocked, but I’ll double check,” Happy responded, suddenly serious, “ Get in.” 

Happy pulled out his phone and climbed back into the chopper. Tony handled Peter carefully and strode steadily towards the helicopter. Peter stayed silent, blowing lightly into his neck. 

“ You’re gonna be okay. I know you will. You’re not alone. I’ve got you. I’ve got you now,” Tony assured, more to himself than anybody. 

As he lifted the precious bundle into the chopper, Tony for once was convinced that everything was going to be alright, and that he and Peter would be just fine… 

——————————————————————————————————————————

The beep from the prison door sounded and the automatic locks clicked as the doors slid aside, the guards allowing Toomes into the visitation area. It wasn’t the same old home he was used to, but still, he was alive.  

“ Look who it is! Who knew we’d end up at the same summer camp.” 

Toomes looked up at the voice and recognized Mac Gargan, a previous customer from his demolished business. The two men walked opposite of each other and met in the middle of the hallway. The men regarded each other, Toomes warily looking over his old acquaintance. He noticed the new scar that graced across the man’s face, clearly a souvenir from the ferry. Gargan guessed his expression and said in an assuring tone,

“ Relax. This? It’s not on you. It’s on our little… spider friend.” 

Toomes remained silent, clearly guessing where this was going. Gargan looked at him perniciously and stepped a little closer, a gleam in his eye. 

“ I’ve got some boys on the outside who would love to meet him. You know take a picture, slice his throat. Put his head in the dryer. And I heard a rumor….” 

Toomes held a breathe.  

“ ….that you know who he is.” 

Toomes stared at Gargan, contemplating his offer, then smugly smirked to himself. If Gargan had given him that offer a week ago, he would’ve taken it, saying, “ Give Spider-Man the works”. But after Coney Island, and everything that happened, he couldn’t turn his back on the kid that saved his life. He wouldn’t even be alive today if it weren’t for Peter Parker. He couldn’t betray him now. 

Toomes hummed to himself as he maintained his cool stare at Gargan then said in a low, direct voice, 

“ If I knew who he was, he’d already be dead.” 

Gargan stared at him, trying to see through his facet. Before he could press him any further, a guard called from down the hall,  

“ Toomes, your family’s here.” 

Taking his cue, Toomes casually walked past Gargan, not giving him a second glance. Gargan looked at him one second longer before turning back down the hallway, wary and suspicious. 

Toomes smiled at his little secret. He may have landed in the tank, and he may have lost his freedom and he lost his business. But at least he did one thing right. That spider-kid was still alive, and he was grateful that he had saved him. He had no regrets, and he’ll go on to protect his daughter by keeping the masked hero safe and unknown. Sure, he maybe be no more than just a naive fifteen year old with crazy superpowers who’s got a lot to learn about the real world, but he’s still saving people, and maybe even someone he cares about. 

As Toomes steps into the room, he thought about how his family would never know what occurred that night. Maybe one day that good deed will pay off, but for now he was just grateful he was alive, and that he would get to see his family for more day… 

——————————————————————————————————————————