Chapter Text
Peter finds his dad sitting on the couch in their living room, watching some dumb black-and-white western sitcom. Peter, while liking a little bit of everything on TV (except for reality shows, ‘cause ew ), he really didn’t understand the appeal his dad saw in the old, badly filmed and uncolored shows. To him, they were all the same: a game of cops and robbers except they all were dressed up as cowboys and were blandly colored like their plot. If Peter wanted that, he’d dress up as a cowboy, go to some New York fair with a blindfold on, and join a game of cops and robbers or sharks and minnows.
But right now, he needs to talk to his dad, and he wants to bring it up in a way that won’t hurt his feelings, make him sad or make him mad.
Ned says he’s a people pleaser. MJ says he’s a doormat.
“Hey, dad,” he says, sitting on the couch next to him. “what’re you watching?”
He opens his mouth to explain but when he turns to Peter his expression changes. “Pete, you hate westerns.”
Peter shrugs. “I know. I just wanted to know.”
His dad frowns. “Something on your mind?”
“No.”
The older man grins. “You’re a terrible liar.”
Peter sighs. “Oh.”
His dad pats his shoulder, then pulls him close. “You can talk to me about anything. You know that.”
“I know.” Peter sighs again. “I just . . . didn’t want to upset you.”
His dad reaches for the remote with his other arm to pause the TV and Peter snuggles into his shoulder. It’s silent for a few minutes, so Peter assumes his dad isn’t going to be the one to start the conversation.
“Why do you hate Tony Stark so much?”
His dad sighs. “I don’t hate him. I just . . . we’re rivals. It’s a business endeavor.”
“Business rivals? How come?”
“Where’s this coming from? You’ve never shown any interest in the business before.”
“Well, I mean . . . I was just thinking, you know? You said I’m supposed to inherit Parker Tech one day, like you said. And I’m supposed to have a business class next year. I thought it’d be cool to learn about it before.”
“Right.” his dad nods. “Well, I don’t hate Tony Stark, per se. We’re business rivals. And I feel horrible about his son because I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you. Losing your mom killed me enough.”
“But you didn’t do anything, Dad.”
“No, but as a father, I can still feel sorry for him.”
Peter thinks about it for a second. “Yeah,” he says eventually. “I’m just tired of people assuming I’m the lost Stark kid.”
His dad stiffens. “People do that?”
“Yeah, ‘cause our names are the same. And birthdays. And plenty of people have brown hair and brown eyes.”
“You are certainly right about that.”
It’s quiet again for a minute. Then two. “Do I look like Mom?”
His dad frowns, turns to look down at him. “What?”
“I just . . . I don’t really have any pictures of her. I was just wondering.”
His dad hums in thought. “I always thought you were the perfect mix of both of us.” he says eventually. “But I’d love you even if you didn’t because you’re my son.”
Peter smiles, feeling much better. “Thanks, Dad.” he replies. “I guess you’re right. I’m too much like you for the rumors to be right.”
His dad chuckles. “That you are, Pete. That you are.”
“So have you been abducted? Do we need to call the police?” his friend gasps. “Iron Man and the Avengers?”
Peter chuckles even while exasperated. “ No , Ned.” he says. “I talked to Dad.”
“You talked to your Dad,” Ned says disbelievingly. “about Tony Stark ?”
“He doesn’t hate him. They’re business rivals.”
“Same thing.” Ned shrugs. “I don’t know how jobs work.”
“I mean, my dad feels bad for him, yeah. He lost his son. But he doesn’t hate him.”
“I think you’re just gullible.” Ned replies. “I mean, he wouldn’t just straight up tell you if you’re Tony Stark’s kid.”
“Ned–”
“I’m just saying.”
“Tony Stark’s kid is gone, okay?” Peter stops rummaging through his locker for a second. “It’s not me. Everything is just . . . a coincidence, and I’m not Stark’s kid. It’s just a rumor and fake news.”
“Woah, what crawled up your butt and died?”
“Sorry–I’m sorry.” Peter sighs, shoulders sagging as he turns back to his locker. “Just–I hear about this a lot, you know? Always have. People say the similarities are too, uh . . .”
“The same?”
“Yeah, for lack of a better word.” Peter agrees. “This conspiracy, it’s just . . . it’s followed me around forever, and sometimes I wish it’d just go away.”
“Yeah,” Ned sighs. “I get it, man. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. Not your fault. I think everyone gets invested eventually.” he says, then remembers the Instagram account he’d stumbled across the other day. “Oh. I meant to ask you something.”
“Sure, dude. What is it?”
Peter opens his small, cracked phone to the account he’d found. “Why do you and MJ follow this account?”
“Like you said, everyone gets invested.” Ned explains. “You usually aren’t big on conspiracies–I’m guessing I just learned the reason–so I just never told you about it. Why?”
He bites his lip and shakes his head, turning away again. “No reason.”
“No, you’ve got that look in your eyes. Just tell me.”
Peter sighs for what feels like the millionth time that week already. “Promise me you won’t get too excited?”
“ . . . uh, sure.”
“Guess that’s the best I’m getting.” Peter mutters, scrolling on the account until he finds the picture from the other night and shows Ned. “You see this?”
“Yeah. It’s a picture of a pool.”
“What–no! The date .”
“Oh. Oh! Yeah. Malibu Mansion 2003. Why?”
“Somehow, I have this picture. Dated the same and everything. It’s not Dad’s handwriting–I always assumed it was Mom’s.”
“Why would your mom be in Malibu?” Ned frowns. “Or in a mansion?”
Peter sighs. Again . “I don’t know , Ned.”
“I’m just saying: it’s weird, man.”
“Well, Dad debunked the rumors. So it isn’t me. Okay?” Peter replies. “And if you want to keep believing it or keeping up with it, whatever. I can’t stop you. Just not around me. Please?”
Ned hesitates, but nods. “Yeah. Sure, dude.” he pauses. “So, have you asked MJ out yet?”
“What a turn of events.” Peter laughs. “No, I haven’t.”
“Dude! You better ask her to that dance before Brad does! Or I’ll do it for you.”
“Would you?” Peter asks hopefully and Ned frowns at him. “Either way, Brad isn’t after MJ.”
“Uh, yeah, he is.”
“Brad has plenty of girls to choose from. They’re all after him.”
“And he’s after MJ.”
“No, he’s not .”
“Yes, he is .”
The bell rings and thankfully cuts off their conversation. Peter wasn’t sure what he was going to say next. He closes his locker and starts walking the opposite way Ned does, but stops in his tracks and stares.
Because standing in the lobby, having just walked in the door, is a suited-up Tony Stark staring right back at him.