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Part 1 of Family Bond
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2021-01-22
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2021-05-07
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The Ties That Bind Us

Summary:

Peter Parker is ordinary high school student, living alone in apartment in Queens. He doesn’t see his parents very often due to their work. However, his life turns upside-down when Tony Stark, the most feared and powerful man in New York, gives an order to kidnap him to use him as leverage against his parents to get one of his people back. Parker luck strikes in the worst possible moments, events from the past surface and secrets are revealed, changing everybody’s lives.

 Now Tony needs to learn how to be a dad. What will Peter do once he learns the truth of his true parentage?

 

[Complete]

🚧 currently under construction 🚧
(some light editing to catch errors)

Number of edited chapters - 14

Notes:

Alright, this story wouldn’t leave my mind until I wrote it down, so here I am. I’m really excited about this (and one certain tag I'll add later) and I hope you’ll enjoy this little story. Thank you for reading and see you next Friday.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Chapter Text

With one last pull, the blinds closed, cutting off the sunlight from the outside, plunging the room into dimness. A pity, really. It was a nice summer day after all. Though Tony didn’t understand why the blinds were closed in the first place; the compound was practically impossible to get into. There was no way somebody would be able to sneak here, especially past Friday or Happy. And even if by some miracle someone did, the unfortunate person wouldn’t be able to leave. Not on their own… or in one piece.

Maybe the team just liked the theatrics.

Tony sat at the head of the table, as the head of Stark family should. To his right sat Rhodey, his right hand and best friend, Clint and Natasha. To his left sat Steve, Bucky and Sam. Pepper, the face of the official business, his tech company, was not present today. For this meeting, she was not needed, which she was happy about.

“Alright, let’s begin,” Tony clasped his hands together. This was one of the rare occasions he was taking the meeting seriously. Or at least was trying to. He nodded to Rhodey.

“Stane was caught by Shield,” he said, not beating around the bush. He opened his folder, pulling out various papers and photographs. He moved two of those forward for others to see. One was taken as Stane was being shoved in cuffs in the back of a car. The other one was a bit blurry, but Stane sitting behind bars was recognizable. “My sources told me he hasn’t said a word. Yet.”

“And if he knows what’s good for him, it will stay that way,” Bucky muttered under his breath.

Over the years since Howard died, Tony began to distance himself from the man, bit by bit. Tony was nothing like his father. Stane ignored that. Howard took over the little gang that was started by Tony’s grandfather and transformed it into something bigger. But Tony accomplished something both of the men could only dream about. The whole city was his. If Tony was to rule the same way his father did, they would have never got to the top.

If it wasn’t for the fact that Stane had some important intel and secrets that would get all of them in prison, Tony would’ve left him to Shield.

Two more photos were placed on the table; this time of a man and a woman. “Richard and Mary Parker. Married couple and the ones handling Stane. They’re right below Fury.”

The pictures were passed around, some members of Tony’s inner circle burning the faces into their minds.

“Stane is set to be transported to the Raft in less than three weeks, where he will be held and questioned further. Needless to say, it will be next to impossible to get him out once he’s there.” Rhodey placed plans of the high security prison next to the pictures. He was right. Even with inside help, the chance of escaping from there are slim.

“So, what’s the plan?” Natasha crossed her arms over her chest. “Do we break him out of the Shield facility before they send him away?”

“Wouldn’t that blow the cover of out moles?” Steve asked.

“Do we have something on the Parkers?” Bucky joined in.

Clint shook his head. “Everything that there is to know about them is already known. Nothing useful, really.”

Tony rolled his eyes. “Come on, let the guy speak.” Truth be told, even the head of the most famous crime family himself was curious what Rhodey found out. He didn’t exactly share, but he promised whatever he found will be useful. Tony didn’t like not knowing things in his own house. This wouldn’t fly if it was anyone else.

The room fell silent, the only sound filling it was rustling of the papers. Rhodey pulled out one last photograph and placed it on top of the plans, near the pictures of the agents.

This one caught everyone’s attention. They leaned forward in to see better, confusion reflecting on their faces. It was a picture of a teenage boy with brown curly hair and brown eyes. There was a resemblance.

“Rhodey, you clever bastard,” Tony grinned as the pieces clicked together.

The right-hand man briefly returned the grin before putting on more serious face again. “It turns out there was one thing unknown about them.”

Tony could see how the pieces clicked in others’ minds too.

“This is Peter Parker. Their son.”

The statement cemented the suspicion.

“Oh, man, how did you find this?” Sam asked in awe as he grinned.

“It was by accident, actually,” Rhodey admitted. “His existence is, or was, very well hidden. They’re not in contact very often and they rarely see each other in person. Since he was little, Peter was staying with his aunt and uncle until they died in a car crash one and a half years ago. Since then, he lives alone in apartment in Queens.”

Clint’s head tilted to the side. “Hold on, by accident, you mean that someone overheard them talking about him or something?”

Rhodey inhaled and placed his hands on the table. “Basically? Yes.”

“Idiots,” Tony gave the pictures of two agents kind of disgusted look as he rolled his eyes, though he can’t complain. Their slip-up will serve Tony well.

His remark was met with series of nods.

“Apparently, they were supposed to go visit him later this week. One of our moles overheard them talking with Fury about postponing the visit because of the whole Stane situation. They didn’t seem very bothered, but that’s beside the point. The boy attends Midtown School of Science and Technology.”

School reports and other various lists were passed around. Tony had to admit, the boy was smart. All straight A’s, their Decathlon team won the nationals... Not to mention he looked naïve and innocent, exact opposite of his parents. He wondered if the teen knew what his parents were doing.

Rhodey pulled out last stacks of papers and passed it to others. “I went ahead and took a courtesy of tracking his routine. Despite being summer break, Midtown offers various courses, morning or afternoon, for its students for extra credit. The last course ends this Thursday to allow the students at least some break. Peter attends this course. There’s a maid coming to his apartment every Monday and Thursday as well to clean the place. The route he takes home is on the paper.”

“Nobody would suspect police officer to be the one to follow a kid, eh, officer Rhodes?” Sam teased from the other side.

This is why Rhodey was Tony’s right hand. To gather this amount of information in such short timespan took skill.

Natasha put down the paper with information about Peter. “We could use him as a leverage against Parkers to get Stane back.”

All eyes turned to Tony.

“So, we kidnap the kid,” Tony said matter-of-factly, “it can’t be that hard. How old is he anyway? Twelve?”

“He’ll be fifteen soon, actually,” Rhodey added.

“Never mind. Barnes, when would be the best time to retrieve the kid?” Tony turned to the man with metal arm.

“Hold on, a kid?” Steve jumped in just as Bucky opened his mouth, a rare look of discomfort on his face. “Are we really going to drag a kid into this? Isn’t that low even for us?”

Tony had to fight back a snort. Steve had no problem with beating someone to death with his own hands, yet he was uncomfortable at the involvement of the boy. The man was old-school. “Don’t worry, no harm will come to him if you do your job correctly and he behaves,” Tony said before nodding to Bucky to continue.

“Thursday after school, best in his apartment.” Bucky’s eyes roamed around the tiny picture of Peter on the paper, clearly taken by security camera, walking from school with another boy and a girl. “It’s risky to do it in public.”

“Fine by me,” Tony said without missing a beat. “You and Barton are in charge of getting the kid. Bring him to the lake house. Rogers and Romanov, you will keep an eye on him there.”

Sam’s eyebrows furrowed. “Are you really going to put one of our strongest guys and best assassins to babysit some kid? I think we can just get him a juice box, lock him up somewhere and he’ll be fine.”

“Wilson, did you even read what was on the paper?” Tony moved his eyes to the man. “The kid’s attending one of the best high schools and by the looks of it, he’s passing with ease. For Christ’s sake, he’s even taking extra courses!” his arms flew up. “He’s smart. It would be best not to underestimate him.”

“Alright, jeez, don’t get your panties in a twist,” Sam grumbled under his breath.

“My underwear is worth more than your whole attire. You take two paychecks. Seriously, get some decent clothes.” Chuckles filled the room, making Sam pout at the table.

"Just because it's not tailored with gold threads to fit my ass doesn't mean it's not decent," he grumbled, making the team ooh at the roast. 

“But back to the point. You two,” Tony pointed to Bucky and Clint, “make a plan. Get what you need and if you need anything else, let me know. And you two,” he said to Steve and Natasha, “you can go get the house ready. And Wilson, you go back undercover. I know we have moles in Shield, but I prefer to have extra pair of eyes I trust out there.”

Tony took ahold of Peter’s picture, studying the boy’s face. This will be interesting. “I believe three days is enough for all of you to prepare. Dismissed.”

The people rose from their chairs and put away the papers they received. Rhodey reached for the scattered papers to put them back in the folder. Before he could take the two remaining photos away, Tony took the one of the woman and held it next to the boy’s.

Strange. Something about the woman seemed familiar. It wasn’t like Tony didn’t know her face or who she was. But now, looking closer… His eyes narrowed slightly, as if trying to intimidate the picture into giving him the answer. He gave up not too long after. Maybe she just resembled someone from his wild years, before he settled down with Pepper. Yes, he’d met plenty of women before. That must be it.

Tony took one last glance at Peter’s face, then put down the photos and stretched his limbs with low groan.

“You’ll ruin you suit,” Rhodey joked.

The joke was met with eye-roll. “Honeybear, I paid hefty sum for this suit. I would be very disappointed if the quality was something less than top-notch. And I would have the tailor’s head.”

Rhodey laughed. “I wouldn’t expect any less. Do you want to get some coffee? I’ve got some other things that could be of interest.”

Ah, coffee, Tony’s weakness. Rhodey knew he would never decline that offer. And something of interest? Even better! “Sure,” he said before irritation took control of his face. The room was still dim. “And somebody open the damn blinds!” he called out after the retreating group.

Chapter 2

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

“Ah, freedom,” Ned sighed upon exiting the school building. It was five in the afternoon, the sun not beating down on the city without a mercy as much as before. The heat didn’t stop the boy from expressing happiness. “Now we have the rest of the summer to enjoy.”

“Yeah,” Peter nodded, playing with the strap of his backpack over his shoulder. “But these extra credits were worth it.”

“Whatever. Well, I’ve got a plane to catch. See you, losers.”

“Bye, MJ,” the boys said in union as MJ got in the car in the parking lot. They watched the car start, taking their friend to the airport.

Peter winced as he put on the other strap. And when he thought he was having good week… Flash decided to be a jerk again, shoving Peter roughly against the edge of the lockers. Pain shot from Peter’s shoulder at any bigger movement. The reaction didn’t go unnoticed.

Worry pulled at Ned’s face. “Dude, you should tell someone about this. He can’t keep getting away with it.”

There was a police car parked at the side of the street, the officer inside on the phone.

“Ned, you know I can’t do that. What if he’s going to pick on someone else? Someone that won’t be able to handle it?” When Ned gave his best friend an unimpressed look, Peter began to ramble again. “Look, it’s not that big of the deal. Once I’m home, I’m going to put some ice on it. Seriously, it doesn’t even hurt that much anymore.”

“Uh-huh.”

The officer watched the boys walk past the car and went down the stairs to the subway station that will be taking them to Queens. “He entered the station,” he said to the radio.

“Good. Pull back, let the others handle the rest,” came a reply.

The train came to a stop, two tides of people clashing as they traveled to their destinations. This train wasn’t as full as the earlier ones, but there were still plenty of people. The boys found empty seats and began to chat again.

“Man, it’s going to be lonely without you and MJ,” Peter complained. Ned was leaving tomorrow with his family for a vacation in Florida. MJ was flying to California for some activist meeting. “When are you leaving tomorrow?”

“Five in the morning,” Ned whined. “I’ll have to go to sleep early, but I doubt I will be able to fall asleep. What I’m sorry the most about is I’ll miss your birthday. We’ll have to do a Star Wars marathon once we’re back.”

Peter hid the sadness at the thought. With having the whole apartment for themselves, the sleepovers were the best. No one told them what to do, they had no curfew, and they could eat all the unhealthy food they wanted.

“It’s no big deal,” Peter said instead. “Besides, my parents will come home, so I won’t be all alone. And there’s also Mrs. Davis.”

“How long will they be staying?” Ned asked.

“I don’t know. But they will arrive on Sunday.”

The almost one-hour ride went by fast as the two constantly talked. Ned’s stop came first, interrupting the boy from explaining some movie theory to Peter. “That’s my stop. Well, see you at the end of the holiday.”

In split second, Peter made his decision. “Wait,” he said and got up as well, “I’ll go with you.”

“Are you sure? Do you want to walk another forty minutes to your home when you can be there in ten?” Ned asked as they walked on the platform.

“Yeah. Besides, I don’t have much of a choice now,” Peter shrugged, pointing to the now-closed door. The train moved once again, disappearing into the dark tunnel.

“He got off a stop early. There will be a delay. Be prepared,” a dark-skinned man with sunglasses on the train mumbled, seemingly to himself.

The boys arrived in front of Ned’s apartment building, but they had yet to part their ways. Both of them stood in front of the entrance, deep in the conversation. The current topic was too interesting to just stop.

Ned’s phone buzzed and he fished it out of his pocket. His eyes widened when they landed on the time and the text message from his mom.

“Dude, we literally lost track of time. My mom’s wondering where I am. We still have to pack some things.”

“Really?” Peter asked in disbelief. The time sure flies when you have a good time. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to keep you late.”

“Nah, it’s not a big deal.” The two boys did they complicated handshake, then Ned was backing towards the entrance door. “Next time we will be able to do this will be in a few weeks.”

“Enjoy the beach,” Peter waved his goodbye.

“Enjoy the visit,” Ned waved back and disappeared into the building.

Peter stared at the entrance for a few seconds before heading to his own home. He purposefully took longer route, not in a hurry at all. Why would anyone hurry to an empty apartment? If he at least had a pet, that would be different thing.

As he walked, the uncomfortable feeling in his stomach that had plagued him for a whole week began to return. He and Ned called it his sixth sense, MJ sometimes called it sparkling anxiety. Whatever the name for it was, it was rarely wrong. Something is about to happen.

He stopped by at Delmar’s, grabbing himself something for dinner. It was a little after eight when Peter’s keys opened the door, the sight of familiar spacious interior greeting him. He missed the old, tiny apartment where he grew up with Ben and May. It was by no means messy, it was lived in. But this one was too empty. The faint smell of cleaning products hung in the air, a proof of Mrs. Davis’ visit. Peter closed the door behind him, unaware of two people hiding in the supply closet, watching his every movement through narrow slits.

Peter dumped his things on the kitchen chair, wincing and hissing as he removed the strap from his injured shoulder. “Damn you, Flash,” he muttered. Well, at least it didn’t hurt as much as before. “Hm?” two things caught his attention. There was a note stuck to the fridge and the answering machine was blinking. He went for the note first.

“Peter, my daughter had an accident today and I’m going to stay with her until her husband returns from work trip. I’ll be back in a week, two at most. I got enough food to last you that long, but you’ll probably have to get some perishable food later yourself. I left a piece of cake for you in the fridge.

-Mrs. Davis”

Peter opened the fridge, and truth to Mrs. Davis’ words, there was a piece of deliciously looking cake sitting on a plate, waiting for him. Cheering, he took the cake out and put it on the table. He debated whether he should eat the sandwich or the cake first as he made his way to the answering machine. 

“Hello, Peter,” his mom’s voice filled the room, getting the attention of the two uninvited guests as well. “I’m sorry to tell you, but our leave got moved. There was an… unforeseen development here and we’re needed.”

Peter’s heart sank. Was this what his sixth sense was trying to tell him? “I’m sorry. We’ll make it up to you once it’s over, I promise,” his mom said, but Peter knew she wasn’t really sorry. He would have heard it in her voice.

“Of course,” he grumbled, hiding his hurt feelings behind indifference, “what else was to be expected? There’s always something.” Parker luck at its finest.

He looked at the cake, all his appetite leaving him. Sighing, he took the sandwich out of his bag and put in inside the fridge, along with the cake.

He went to his room to get some clean clothes and headed to the shower. Once the sound of running water could be heard, Clint spoke.

“He didn’t eat the cake.”

“Don’t worry, we still have plan B. We just have to wait a little,” Bucky replied.

“Yeah, I know. But it would be easier if he just ate it.”

The cake was a perfect opportunity. The maid left it there for the boy, so Clint took the chance and added a little bit of sedatives there, sure of the fact that Peter would eat it. Who could resist a cake like that? He put some of it in other things as well, just in case. Turns out it was all for nothing. The voicemail ruined that plan.

They were lucky the closet was big enough to hide both of them comfortably there. He didn’t know which rooms the teen would enter, but he was certain he wouldn’t look here, since there was no need to clean anything else.

The water stopped and soon after, Peter left the bathroom, changed into clean clothes and hair damp. He sighed in relief the cold shower brought to his aching shoulder. There would be no need to take something for the pain, which he was glad for.

The sun already set, the sky a shade different over the horizon. Peter watched as the last, dim light got swallowed by darkness, his mind turning over the fact that he will be alone for the rest of the summer.

His phone rang, displaying Ned’s face twisted in a grimace on the screen. “Hey, man,” Peter answered, hoping that he sounded natural. “Packed already?”

“Yeah. Just wanted to check on you before I go to bed. How’s your shoulder?”

A smile pulled at Peter’s lips involuntarily. He had such good friends. “It feels better. I took cold shower, which helped. It won’t hurt as long as I won’t put pressure on it.”

“That’s good. I won’t call you in the morning since I don’t want to wake you up, and there’s no phone rule for this vacation. Something about family bonding.”

Peter’s mood fell a little again. “Tough luck.”

Ned hummed. A distant voice could be heard, but the words were unrecognizable. “Mom says lights out. I’m gonna go.”

“It’s okay. I’m going to bed early too. Watch out for the gators.”

“Bye.”

The call ended. Since Peter had nothing left to do and he was not in the mood to watch some random YouTube videos or tinker with old electronics and spare parts that were stored in a box next to his table, he crawled into the bed. Surprisingly, it didn’t take him too long to fall asleep.

 

He wasn’t sure how much time has passed, but something made him wake up. He opened his bleary eyes, and thought he didn’t see anything in the darkness, he swore he could hear quiet hissing. Rubbing his eyes, he switched on the lamp on his bedside table. There was greenish mist hanging in the air. A rolling can stopped and released more.

Peter’s stomach clenched when he realized the mist was all around him and that he’s inhaling it. He threw his blanket off in haste and shot to his feet, only for them to tangle in the blanket and give under him at the same time.

The wind was knocked out of his lungs, the organ instinctively sucking the air back in. If only his head didn’t land near the second can still releasing the gas... 

He tried to get up, but his limbs refused to listen. Instead, they moved with difficulty that definitely wasn’t normal, even in his sleepy state. His brain was becoming fuzzy too. Vaguely, Peter was aware of his door being fully opened and two pairs of footsteps coming closer.

A pair of hands gently turned Peter on his back. He was met with the sight of a man in a mask, the second man with matching one hovering in the doorway.

Something similar to oxygen mask was pressed over his mouth and nose. Whatever was in there, it was making the fuzziness worse. Peter put all his remaining strength into moving his hands to pry the mask off. To his distress, all he was able to do was to weakly grip the man’s hands.

“Shh,” the man said, “it’s okay. Don’t fight it. Go to sleep.”

If the words were meant to be comforting, it accomplished exact opposite. Fear spiked inside of Peter’s body, making his heart beat faster, and in the process, breathing faster. It was quickly replaced by sleepiness. Peter’s grip slipped from the man’s hands, rapidly losing the battle for his consciousness.

The man’s unmoving mask was the last thing he saw before his eyelids slid shut and everything went black.

Notes:

Alright, two things:
First, I decided to post on every other Tuesday too. I’m on that creative high with this story and I’ve pre-written enough material to last me for several weeks. Maybe I’ll change it to every Tuesday if I manage to keep up the rate I write right now, but I’ll see. (What are you gonna do, stop me?)
Second, I changed Peter’s age (from fifteen to fourteen) for, *ahem*, later plot reasons. That’s all. Thank you for all the wonderful support the first chapter received. See you on Tuesday!

Chapter 3

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

For good measure, Clint held the mask over the unconscious boy’s face for another minute. In that time, Bucky opened the window to let the gas out and gathered the empty cans to hide the evidence.

Clint’s eyes landed on the blanket tangling the teen’s feet. He strapped the mask on Peter’s face and went to untangle the thing. Luck was on their side. If the boy’s feet didn’t catch in it, he would’ve ran out of the room and there would be more struggle. Clint wrapped the limp body into the blanket.

“Let’s go,” Bucky said, holding out a backpack to Clint. The backpack was in Peter’s closet, always ready to leave to last-minute sleepovers at Ned’s place.

Clint swung the backpack over his shoulder. Bucky bent down, placing his arms under Peter’s back and knees, lifting him with ease. “Hm?”

“What?” Clint asked.

“He’s lighter than expected,” Bucky replied. It was true. Wrapped like a burrito, Peter looked even smaller than he normally seemed. Bucky shifted him in his arms, so the curly head would rest against his shoulder. He gave Clint unimpressed look when the man approached to make sure the mask didn’t slip. “Hasn’t he had enough?”

“There’s not much left in it anyway. It’s just extra safety measure. And the others won’t have to deal with him for a little longer,” Clint explained. On one hand, it was true. On the other hand, he would also spare the boy of several hours of sure fear and confusion. Small mercy.

Bucky wasn’t the one for arguments. He preferred to get the job done, and as long as it was safe, he saw no problem.

They covered the rest of their tracks as they left the apartment. Clint led the way, his gun drawn out in case some unlucky passerby would cross their way. No accidental witnesses, as per the protocol.

A car was parked in dark alley next to the building, waiting for them. Clint opened the back door and Bucky placed the boy inside.  The two entered as well, the engine roared to life and the car moved on the empty road. Rhodey made sure they wouldn’t run into any trouble for the rest of their journey.

The car disappeared into the night.

 

Consciousness came slowly to Peter. His head was fuzzy, and the sleep was trying to pull him back under. His body refused to move. After a moment, the sleepiness won in its endeavor to keep ahold of him.

 

The second time Peter began to wake up, he was made aware one thing. He felt parched, not to mention the headache that grew stronger by seconds. Taking a deep inhale, then exhale, he managed to get one of his eyes open by a fraction. Everything was blurry. Closing the eye, Peter turned on his right side and brought his hands fisted into his blanket to his face.

If his mouth didn’t feel like a desert, he would try to go back to sleep. He was still so tired, and the bed felt so… different? What?

Peter rubbed his eyes to get rid of the blurriness. After several unsuccessful attempts, it finally went away, although he still had difficulty to open them fully. Why did he feel like something is missing from his memory?

The first thing he noticed was the window. This one was in the middle of the wall opposite of his bed. In his room, his bed was next to the window. Did he fell asleep in different room or did he sleepwalk? But then again, the only room with bed was his parents’ unused one.

No, not his parents’ bed, he thought when he moved his leg backwards and hit the wall. His sixth sense clawed at his stomach again. Or was it the nausea caused by sitting up too quickly. Something in between?

What was wrong with him? He didn’t remember the last time he woke up feeling like this. Did he get somehow sick? Peter squeezed his eyes shut with a groan, opening them once the worst of the nausea passed, looked around and froze.

This wasn’t his room, nor any room in his apartment. Sure, the blanket was his, but this wasn’t his room!

Ever so slowly, Peter swung his legs over the edge of the bed, each of his move careful to not set off the nausea again. He stumbled here and there when his legs threatened to give under him, but he managed to walk to the window without toppling over.

There was a jungle outside. Not like the city jungle he was used to see for his whole life. This was a literal jungle! Or… forest. This was wrong. He’s not supposed to be here. Where even was here?!

The sun shone over the tall trees, casting shadows and light reflecting on the lake’s surface. Peter could tell it was well into afternoon, but there were definitely at least five hours until it was dark.

Dark…

The memories crashed into him like a train – he was at home, watching as it got dark, Ned called, and he went to bed. Then there was hissing, greenish mist and two men. One of them pressed something over his face, then there was fear, then nothing.

Next beat of his heart was painful. He had to to get out. He had to run.

Peter spun around, wild eyes searching for the door, not hesitating a second to dash towards it. His body collided with something hard, loud thump filling the space. The floor. Ah, yes. He forgot about the nausea.

Panic choked him, making it difficult for Peter to catch his breath. His vision tunneled, making him feel like passing out.

Peter barely heard the sound of the door being opened. “Oh no,” came a man’s voice.

There was a fleeting, hesitant touch on his shoulders before it set with reassuring firmness, grounding Peter from spiraling further. “Come on, breathe. In, out. In, out. That’s it.”

The man kept talking to him until Peter got his breathing under control, his vision returned to normal and all what was left were slight tremors. The hands disappeared. Peter planted his hands underneath him and pushed himself up, so he wouldn’t be face to face with the floor.

Peter lifted his gaze, his brown eyes meeting the blue ones of big man looking down at him. The tremors stopped and his next breath caught in his throat. It was only a second later that Peter jumped to his feet and stumbled backwards, putting some distance between them. His back hit something, a table most likely. The tremors returned.

The man got up as well, outstretching his hand as if trying to placate wild animal. “Hey, it’s okay. You don’t have to—” he took a step closer, which was a mistake.

“Don’t!” Peter cried out, his hand feeling the table as he took a step back.

“Alright, alright,” the man said, taking a step back too. “Just… calm down.”

“Who are you? Where am I? What do you want from me?”

“I’m Steve, you don’t need to know, and for the last one – from you? Nothing besides not causing problems.”

Steve saw the boy was scared out of his mind. Even if he wouldn’t see the look in his eyes, there was no way to not hear his shaky inhales. He could tell he was barely holding it together. It was understandable – even some of the most seasoned people from their, uhm… business, were losing their composure when kidnapped. And Peter was just a boy.

“Why am I here?” Peter asked again. The answers he received didn’t clear anything all that much, making him more uneasy.

Steve debated whether to tell him. He decided against it. Maybe later. The boy looked like he was about to fall right back on the floor any second. The small wave of his body confirmed it. The remains of the sleeping gas had to still mess with Peter’s head.

“Why don’t you take a seat? You’re pale and I bet your head must hurt. Here,” Steve said, pulling out a blister pack full of round, white pills, and popped one out on the windowsill. Best not to approach the already distressed boy. “The glass is in the bathroom over there,” he pointed to the door Peter previously thought was the exit.

Only now Peter noticed another door on the other side of the room behind Steve, slightly ajar. Where Peter’s legs faced when he was on the bed. That must be the exit.

Peter’s eyes moved back to the man. “What’s that?”

“Pain medication.”

Steve walked back to the door, not breaking eye contact. “Your backpack is over there,” he pointed to the chair nearby. “I’ll be back later with some food for you.” With that, the door closed, followed by audible click of a lock.

Peter stayed in place for several moments, the tremors disappearing at last. He took a step towards the windowsill, minding his every move, as if he was walking on ice that threatened to break under him. He kept shooting glances at the locked door, half-expecting Steve or the men from before barging in. Nothing happened.

The pill sat there innocently. Instead of touching it, Peter lowered his face to its level. Steve popped right from the packing, not touching it. Was it really pain medication? Peter didn’t see what was written on the packing. What if he lied and the people who took him are trying to drug him again? Yeah, Peter’s not taking that chance. He was good with water only.

Which brought the second point. Steve said the glass was in the bathroom. Peter opened the door, revealing, surprisingly, the bathroom. There was a toilet, a shower, a sink and above it, a mirror with a shelf attached to it, two glasses and a comb sitting there. One held an unopened toothbrush and toothpaste, the other one was empty.

Just in case, Peter washed the empty cup, filled in and greedily drank the liquid. After a refill, he focused on his reflection. Wow. His face was really pale. It had almost sickly shade. His hair was sticking into every direction, like every time he woke up. Well, at least that remained normal.

Peter peeked into the cabinet under the sink. Towels, soaps, shampoos… the usual hygiene products.

Peter refilled the glass again and took it with him back to the room. Sitting down on the chair, he reached for the backpack. He recognized it as the one he used to take to Ned’s. All he needed for a sleepover was here – spare clothes, a pair of sneakers because Mrs. Leeds hated seeing anyone barefoot in her apartment, that broken electric toothbrush he forgot to put in the box with other parts…

“Come on, Parker, think,” Peter said to himself, taking a deep breath to get rid of the lingering confusion. It turned out that now he will have the opportunity to use the knowledge he’s gained from his 2AM YouTube binges about various topics. He’d never thought he would need what he learned about kidnappings, but now he was glad he watched those videos.

First – the first minutes of it were already over, so, onto the motive. The most common reason was money. Why would they want money from his parents? Sure, as scientists, they made enough money to live comfortably, but not like they could afford an apartment in Manhattan. Political reason? He doubted that. Personal revenge? As far as he knew, he didn’t do anything to warrant a kidnapping. Maybe it had something to do with his parents and their research?

Dread filled Peter. Will they kill him?

Second – observe your surroundings, don’t fight or make things difficult for the kidnappers. Keep calm. Peter snorted. Fat chance of that.

It looked like he would have to wait for rescue. Except… his parents didn't know where he was. Neither did Ned and MJ, or Mrs. Davis. For all they knew, Peter was still in his apartment. None of these people knew he was gone. Which meant the help wasn't coming any time soon.

Peter took another sip. He’ll have to do this on his own.

Notes:

Another chapter, let’s go! I have tumblr now too (though it’s a side blog and I’m trying to figure out how it works). I tried to do that fancy link here, but it seems like no matter what I do, it just won’t work (I’ve tried). So, I’m just gonna copy the link here:

http://winter-turtle.tumblr.com

Chapter 4

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

His chance came a few hours later. 

After he was done with changing into fresh clothes, Peter scanned the area from the window. There was no way of opening it, as the handle was removed. The scenery remained the same – trees, lake, and he caught a glimpse of a road. Then he pressed his ear against the door to listen to the sounds in the house. He had to strain his ears to hear anything, which meant he was probably somewhere upstairs. But sometimes he’d caught the sound of footsteps or soft clattering from what he assumed was the kitchen.

By the sound of it, Steve was the only one here.

If Peter’s plan worked, he would get out of here today. God, he hoped it would work. He just hoped he would find some town before it got dark. It was difficult to think too much as his head still hurt, and as it turned out, drinking that much water that quickly was a mistake. He felt his stomach flipping, but all he could do was to breathe through the nausea.

He couldn’t afford to wait.

The backpack was left on the same spot where it was placed. It would be better if there wouldn’t be anything unnecessarily hindering his movement. And it would make it look like he was still in the room. The bathroom door was left slightly open, light switched on to make it look like he was in there, which made sense. The bathroom didn’t have any window.

Now, Peter was crouched in the corner next to the door with his half-assed plan, occasionally rubbing his temples to get rid of the pain and still breathing through the nausea. The pill remained on the windowsill.

Footsteps were approaching. Peter shot to his feet, pressing himself against the wall as much as he could. He held his breath when three knocks could be heard and the lock clicked. The door opened, hiding Peter from the sight.

There was silence and Peter worried that the man saw right through his plan. He didn’t want to think what would happen if he got caught.

“Peter?” Steve called out, stepping into the room.

Peter listened to the cautious steps, not moving an inch.

Steve saw the light coming from the bathroom, stepping closer. “I’ve brought you dinner.”

Peter peeked over the edge of the door, seeing Steve placing a bowl on the table, his eyes directed to the bathroom door.

“I hope you’ll like it.”

Yeah, no. Peter watched as Steve took a step towards the bathroom, seemingly concerned at the lack of response.

Steady, steady. Any time now.

“Peter? You okay?” Steve called out again, hint of worry in his voice. The lack of response was concerning. He hoped the boy didn’t pass out in there. “I’m opening the door!”

There! Peter left his hiding spot at the same time Steve fully opened the bathroom door. It took Steve a second to process that the bathroom was empty. A bang of the other door made him turn.

“Hey, no!”

Peter’s eyes fell on the stairwell leading down. There was no time to check if the key was still in the hole and he wasn’t sure he would be able to lock it in time. The best he could do was run and not look back. He took two stairs at the time, eyes franticly searching for the exit. By some miracle, he managed to run without losing his balance.

“Door, door, door,” Peter repeated in his mind. He heard Steve running after him.

“Nat!”

There! Peter spotted the exit when his feet left the stairs. Run, run. Almost there, freedom withing the reach… He outstretched his arm towards the handle.

Peter saw a blur of something red and black from the corner of his eye. That something collided with his body a second later, sending him sprawling on the ground with a cry. In the blink of an eye, his wrists were pinned down and there was something digging into his back and shoulder. His injured shoulder. Peter bit back another cry of pain while he tried to shake off the person holding him down.

Steve came to a stop.

“I believe Rogers told you not to cause problems,” a woman’s voice came from above him, leveled and danger seeping into it.

Peter kept struggling, trying to at least shake the woman off of his shoulder. The woman tsked, irritated with his struggles. She kneeled on the ground next to him, removing herself from the injured spot. The relief was short-lived though. Peter was yanked up into sitting position and arm was wrapped around his throat.

“Let me g—” his protests were cut off by the woman’s forearm pressing on his airway. Not enough to suffocate him, but enough to make it uncomfortable. All he could do was kick his legs and try to pull the arm away, all uselessly.

“But you know what? I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt. Our colleagues gave you the good stuff, and I’m sure that it’s still in your system, messing with your body. Which means your head as well. I’d like to believe that you don’t know what you’re doing right now. It’s difficult to think clearly, isn’t it?”

Peter saw a lock of red hair fall next to his face. His heartbeat sped up. His struggles were proven to be fruitless. The chokehold was impossible to escape.

“Because let me tell you what would happen if you did this on purpose.”

“Nat.”

“It might not seem like it but being unrestrained here is a privilege. You might be just a child, but don’t think we won’t take measurements to keep you still.”

“Natasha.”

“First, it wouldn’t be so bad. We could handcuff you and you would be allowed to stretch your legs for a few minutes a day. And if you keep causing trouble, we will have to take more drastic measures. We’ve still got that gas. Say, you wouldn’t want that, would you?”

“Romanov, let him go. I think he gets it.”

“Do you understand?” Natasha whispered in Peter’s ear. Peter gave her weak, shaky nod, still unable to speak. Thick lump formed in his throat. The discomfort didn’t stop him from stubbornly thrashing around.

Natasha sighed. Plan B it is then. “Good. Remember that.” Her hold shifted, now pressing on the sides of the boy’s neck. Peter’s eyes closed in seconds, head slumped forward as much as Natasha’s arm would allow. She released the hold, propping Peter’s body up.

Natasha turned her head to look at Steve. His jaw was set, and lips pressed in thin line. “Let’s get him upstairs,” she said.

Steve bent down and lifted the unconscious teen on his shoulder. He walked up the stairs, Natasha following close behind.

“Tony wants to speak with us. 10PM.”

“Was it necessary?” Steve asked, ignoring the statement.

“You saw how he was. Do you think he would come quietly? Besides, he’ll be up in less than thirty seconds.”

The first thing Peter felt was something digging into his stomach. Then he realized he was being carried. “—it safe? It wasn’t that long since he woke up,” he heard Steve say.

“He’ll be alright, don’t worry.” She noticed Peter twitch, soon followed by weak groan. “See? He’s already waking up. Twenty-two seconds.”

Peter opened his eyes, which were met with grey fabric of Steve’s shirt. Slightly turning his head, he noticed they already left the stairs and were walking towards the room he escaped from. Steve walked into the room, lowering Peter on the bed. Natasha stayed standing in the doorway. Once Peter was seated, Steve took several steps back, as to not make him panic again. Peter scooted closer towards the wall, covering his throat with his hand. What the hell was that? When did he black out?

Steve looked around, noticing the pill on the windowsill. “You didn’t take the medicine. Why is that?”

Peter’s eyes were full of discomfort and fear as they moved from Steve to the windowsill to Natasha and back to Steve. He was now pressed against the wall.

“Answer the question,” Natasha said, softening her voice. It would be only more trouble for them if they scared the kid more.

Peter took quiet breath. “Don’t,” he whispered, his voice rasping. He cleared his throat before trying again. “Don’t trust it.”

“Smart,” she joked.

“Nat!” Steve scolded the woman who gave him a smirk in return. He turned back to Peter. “It’s really just medicine to ease your headache. I promise it’s not anything else.” Peter still looked unconvinced. Steve sighed. “Anyway, here’s dinner,” he pointed to the bowl on the table, “eat it while it’s warm. And slowly, so you won’t get sick. And,” he waved to the door, “don’t do that again. Understood?”

From the corner of his eye, Peter glanced at Natasha. The look she gave him was oddly soft, a stark contrast with the tone she used before. It still sent small shiver down his spine, which he managed to suppress.

“Yes.”

“Good,” Steve nodded and exited the room along with Natasha. The lock clicked, imprisoning Peter once again.

Peter bent over, hugging himself tight. He failed. There were two of them. What now? Hundreds of thoughts raced through his mind, making his head hurt again.

He decided to check out the content of the bowl instead. There was an oatmeal with nicely arranged blueberries and pieces of banana on the top. Peter had to admit, it looked good. His stomach constricted, but not from nausea. This was hunger. All of the hesitation he felt towards eating the meal was shoved away when he remembered that the last thing he ate was lunch at school. That was… many hours ago. More than twenty-four hours. More than a whole day.

Peter decided to risk it. He sat down, took the spoon from the bowl and carefully put the oatmeal in his mouth. It was good. He ate slowly, as Steve recommended. The man seemed like he didn’t want to hurt him, but Peter couldn’t be sure about anything in this place. And he was sick of the nausea. He took another spoonful.

 

“I still think it was pretty harsh.”

Natasha swallowed her own oatmeal. “Look, I don’t like this any more than you do. None of us do. I know he’s a kid, but we can’t afford to be lenient just because of his age. He managed to outsmart you. This will make things easier for all of us. If he behaves, we won’t have to do anything we don’t like. We get Stane back and he’ll be home before he knows it.”

“Yeah,” Steve sighed. “But in my defense, he looked like he was ready to fall over when I left him.” Silence fell over the room, broken only by the sound of spoons hitting the ceramic bowls. They finished eating at the same time.

“Though, I have to say, I’m almost impressed,” Natasha said, pushing a stray lock behind her ear. “We had grown up people that cried in these situations. For a kid, he held up pretty good. Who would’ve thought he would have it in him to attempt something like this?”

Steve returned her smirk. “You know, I was thinking the same thing.”

Natasha let out amused hum before she pushed the chair away and gathered the empty bowls. “Well, let’s clean this up so we will have some time to spare before the call.”

“Not a detailed word to Tony about what happened?” Steve asked, taking the dishes from Natasha and putting them in the sink.

“Only a vague mention,” Natasha confirmed.

Knowing Tony, he wouldn’t pry. He didn’t particularly care about the hostages they held, unless they had some wanted or interesting information. Which the boy didn’t have.

Natasha snickered from beside him. “What?”

“You look ridiculous in that apron.”

“You’re just jealous I look better in it than you.”

Notes:

We reached 100 kudos! Thank you all so much!

Headcanon that Steve cooks healthy for the team. I think I spent too much time on researching how chokeholds work, but oh well. It wouldn’t be the weirdest thing I googled. Now official, I'll be updating twice a week, every week. This wouldn't be possible without your support.

Chapter 5

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

“Did they receive the package?”

Steve and Natasha sat in front of a screen, Tony and Rhodey’s faces looking at them from the other side. The call began the second the clock struck ten. Punctuality was important in the business.

“According to our moles, Parkers had strange look on their faces and they seemed to be in a rush,” Rhodey said. “Those two, Fury and few others locked themselves in soundproof room. Before that, one of them overheard Mary saying that ‘he wasn’t picking up’ to her husband. It’s safe to assume they did. We’ll have more information when Sam arrives, as he is higher up the chain than others.”

“I wish I could see that look on their faces,” Tony said.

The package in question contained several pictures of Peter and simple letter. Some pictures were taken from across the street, some were taken inside of the apartment, in his own bed before he was kidnapped. The rest was taken when Clint and Bucky arrived at the lake house in the early morning. That one was easy to stage. Peter, still unconscious, was placed on a chair, his arms and legs tied to make it look believable. It was weird to take those, but oh well. Once they had good enough pictures, the teen was taken to the room where he later woke up.

The letter contained a simple message. You know what we want.

“So, it’s a matter of time before we get Stane back,” Steve concluded.

“We believe so,” Rhodey replied.

Tony looked bored. He had the look that clearly said that he would rather be in his lab, tinkering with new inventions. “How’s the kid, anyway?” he asked out of something that resembled courtesy, eager to get this over with.

There was motionless, soundless understanding between Steve and Natasha. It came up.

“There was a little accident after he woke up, but nothing too serious. It was taken care of,” Natasha said.

It wasn’t Tony but Rhodey who asked further. “What did he do?”

“He tried to run. Understandable, since he was confused with the drugs and scared out of his mind. He didn’t make it to the door,” it was Steve’s turn to reply.

“Did you tell him anything? About why he is there?” Rhodey didn’t let up, making sure. He knew they were competent, and he wasn’t trying to discredit them. He just finished long shift at the station, the way he speaks to his subordinates seeping in. God, he needed some sleep. Lucky for him, his leave is getting close and he’ll be able to spend a few days at the compound.

“No.”

This time, Tony replied. “Good. Keep it that way. The next time he tries to run, you know what to do.”

Steve snorted. “I don’t think he will try it again. Nat gave him quite a scare.” The woman looked proud at that. Even Tony smirked.

“Alright. I’ll go bring you more fresh supplies in a few days,” Rhodey informed the two. “And… I believe that’s everything. I can finally get some sleep.”

“Oh, good. I’m going to lab then,” Tony said while getting up.

“Nuh-uh, you’re going to bed too!”

“But platypus—”

“No. Just because Pepper is staying at the penthouse today—”

Tony’s protests and Rhodey’s arguments were stopped by the cut of the connection.

Steve glanced at the clock on the wall. When has it gotten so late? He was glad that the plan was, so far, proceeding as intended. He didn’t want to think about what would come if it turned out to be useless.

Natasha got up from her chair and stretched, breaking Steve from his musing.

“I should probably go get the dishes from Peter’s room.”

“Want me to guard the door in case he, although I doubt that, tries to bolt again?”

Steve shrugged. “Feel free.”

When Steve opened the door, it was plunged the darkness, the only light coming from the hallway behind him. The man tensed, half-expecting something to happen. That was until he heard soft, almost inaudible breathing. On the bed was a lump, the blanket on top of it rising and falling in steady rhythm. Steve took a step closer to the bed, letting in more light. Peter was lying on his side, facing the wall. One of his hands was hidden under his pillow, the other one clutching a fistful of the blanket over his chest.

Steve crept across the room towards the table, taking the bowl into his hands. He felt relief wash over him upon seeing it almost empty. At least the teen wasn’t going on a hunger strike. When he turned back to the door, his eyes slid to the windowsill, landing on the small pill. He took it in his other hand, sighing and shaking his head.

Well, at least he ate. Small victories.

The shadows shifted as Natasha peeked into the room.

“He’s sleeping,” Steve whispered, lifting his finger to his lips.

Natasha silently cooed. “He looks like a baby in that position.” Yeah, she would hate it if she was forced to hurt him.

“Let’s hit the hay too. It’s late,” Steve said and locked the door.

 

Peter woke up slowly to bright room. He let his eyes lazily roam around the space, then he sighed. So the last day wasn’t some weird dream after all, huh? Parker luck.

He noticed the bowl was missing. A shudder ran over his body at the idea that someone was in the room while he was sleeping. Still, the thought helped him to shake off some of the morning grumpiness. Though, he should probably get used to it. After all, he’d been handled by those two unknown men that took him from his apartment, and then Steve and Natasha. Not to mention there could be others.

Peter didn’t know how much time he spent sitting on the bed, staring at the opposite wall. Or what time it was. A clock would be useful here.

Three knocks, the door unlocked and Peter tensed, his hands curling into fists. Steve walked inside, carrying a plate.

“Ah, good. You’re awake.”

“Y-yeah,” Peter stuttered, not really knowing how to answer to that.

“Hm.” Steve acknowledged, placing the plate on the table. “How are you feeling?”

Smalltalk? Really? What is he supposed to answer to that?! “Oh, yeah, to be honest, I’m not doing so hot with being kidnapped from my own bed but okay?” Peter assumed that answer wouldn’t be appreciated. Best to play it safe for the time being.

“Uhm, good? My… my head doesn’t hurt anymore, if that’s what you…” he trailed off.

The atmosphere was turning tense and both of them could tell. Avoiding eye contact didn’t help much either.

“Well, I’m… going to leave this here,” Steve’s moves were a bit choppy as he pointed to the plate and walked to the door.

Peter snapped back to present. “Oh, yeah. Uh, thank you. For yesterday’s dinner too.” Despite the situation he was in, Peter remembered his manners. Uncle Ben and aunt May didn’t raise some ill-mannered brat after all.

Steve looked slightly taken back at that. The man managed to give a nod in return and left the room.

Today’s breakfast was grilled sandwich with ham and cheese. The good look matched the taste. Peter wondered which one of his two – was kidnappers the correct term when they’re only holding him here? Probably yes – cooked here. From his experience, it could be either of them. Aunt May was the kind of person that managed to burn clear water. Uncle Ben took care of the cooking, before…

Peter shook his head to get rid of the thoughts. They wouldn’t do him any good here. He needed to focus if he’s to escape this place.

The sandwich disappeared and Peter’s stomach got full. “Now, let’s do this one more time,” he said to himself. He went over the content of his backpack. To his dismay, nothing extra seemed to appear. There were still his clothes, the sneakers were next to the bed, on the bottom was the broken electric toothbrush…

Wait. Bottom. His backpack had double bottom. Not in the right sense, but it was reinforced so it wouldn’t accidentally tear, since the real bottom was kind of thin. But not thin enough to…

Peter shot a look at the door, making sure no one was watching him. He reached the bottom and moved the sturdy tablet as much as it would allow. Next intake of breath was shaky. Several tiny, flat tools Ned had given him as a present last year were lying there. Peter thought he would never use those, as he had proper ones at home. He’ll have to thank his friend when he’s out of this place. Two screwdrivers, tweezers… Hopeful laugh bubbled in Peter’s chest. Of course, they wouldn’t find it; you wouldn’t notice it was there if you already didn’t know, not to mention it was difficult to pull away the second bottom.

Lockpicking was out of questions for him. Peter shot a glance at the broken toothbrush. If he remembered correctly, it was fully charged when he got it. Yeah, he could work with this. But not here, and not now. He stuffed the things back, making it look like nothing was amiss in the first place.

Next thing: shower. It was summer after all.

The shower was also a place where some of the best ideas were born. Peter did just that. A plan was born, but he couldn’t rush it. He would observe and play by their rules, keeping his head down. And once he’s out, he’ll go straight to the nearest police station since these people knew where he lived. That would be the first place they would wait for him.

The showed didn’t take longer than five minutes. God, it was good to think straight again, without anything messing with his head. He felt like himself.

Peter opened the bathroom door and promptly froze in the doorway. Natasha was sitting on his bed, arms and legs crossed. Her gaze bore into Peter’s. Though Peter couldn’t sense hostile intention, his legs began to shake. He felt like she could see right through him, reading his mind. For a moment, a fear that his plan was discovered shot through him. But that couldn’t be.

Could it?

Natasha stood up, picking up several books she was shielding from Peter’s view and placing them on the table. “Here. Steve picked out some books for you so you won’t get bored.”

Peter felt the fear ease, though not by much. Yesterday’s memory was still fresh in his mind. Natasha kept looking at him for a few more seconds before she took the empty plate and began to leave.

“T-thank you,” Peter forced himself to call out after her, albeit his voice lacked its usual volume.

“You’re welcome,” she replied, and the door locked.

Peter let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. His legs threatened to give under him, so he plopped down on the chair. He turned his attention to the books in an attempt to calm down. There were five of them in total.

“Come on, I’m not MJ,” he muttered as he looked at the first three titles. Peter wasn’t much of a fan of classic works. Was Steve just old soul or was this all he could find here? All hope left him until he moved the fourth book away, which he could somehow enjoy, to look at the last one. Now this was interesting.

The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy

Now this will do. The book was in great shape, as if it hasn’t been opened yet. Peter glanced out of the window, then back at the book. Well, he didn’t have much to do right now, so why not? He opened the book and began to read.

 

“You were right,” Natasha told Steve when she entered the kitchen.

“Isn’t it bizarre? I mean – after everything, he still manages to say ‘thank you’ to us?”

“I would say it’s a nice change of pace. We’re so used to people screaming and cussing us out in these situations. I think it’s adorable. Shows how innocent he is.”

“I guess so.”

Notes:

Look at that adorable little shit, already worming his way into peoples’ hearts without even trying.

 

Those double bottom backpacks are cool, though I only found loose coins in that space when I used to wear one to school. And grilled sandwiches? They’re gift from heaven. If there’s ever a week without me eating at least one, assume I was replaced by an impostor. Thank you for coming to my ted talk and thank you for reading! Feedback is always appreciated.

Chapter 6

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Rhodey was a very busy man. Juggling two jobs as the right hand of Tony Stark and the chief of police was no easy task. He was the one responsible for hiding all the evidence from law enforcements about his best friend’s illegal activities. He was also the one bringing Tony information from within, so the man could plan his next step or to dispose of someone.

That was it. He knew about everything that happened in New York.

That’s why he found it a little strange that there was no report of a certain missing teen yet.

Parkers knew. Everybody knew that Parkers knew. They didn’t file a missing person report and from what Sam reported, Shield wasn’t doing anything about the situation yet either. Rhodey was expecting some form of action from at least one side.

Shield had suspicion there was someone in the police department who had ties to Tony. Shield didn’t know it was Rhodey. Perhaps that was the reason there was no report? It was possible.

The man rubbed his eyes before looking at the clock on the wall of his office. Five more minutes until his shift was over. Then he will be off to drive for a couple of hours to deliver supplies to the lake house. He’ll check on the situation and be off to the compound.

Three minutes. Two minutes. One minute. Some of his subordinates wished him pleasant rest of the day and to enjoy his leave. Sinking into his car seat with a groan, Rhodey turned on the license plate tracking system, courtesy of Tony. The device was scanning license plates of cars driving behind him and matching names to them, the system flagging the plate in case the system found something suspicious.

One less thing to worry about, though he will stay vigilant. He sighed. Better to get this over with.

 

Peter spent the last few days reading, observing and lastly, working. He’s read The Hitchhiker’s Guide twice. There was no questioning nor torture. Meals came in three times a day, and except Steve and occasionally Natasha coming in to collect the dishes, Peter was left alone. That was the time when he closed himself in the bathroom, working in approximately fifteen-minute intervals several times a day. His little project was always hidden behind the towels below the sink.

It was starting to get lonely with no one to talk to. The two adults downstairs didn’t count – Steve was awkwardly casual and Natasha was… well, scary. The silence was becoming unbearable. So, he did the only logical thing. Peter talked to his own reflection in the mirror, quoted vines, scenes from movies and equations under his breath. He kept his voice low and door cracked open as he counted his days here.

He went to sleep on Thursday and woke up here on Friday. Now was Tuesday. At least he thought so. The day he would make his escape. When Steve brought him lunch earlier, he also told Peter he will be taking the laundry basket to do the laundry.

Peter waited. Sitting on his bed, he kept shooting glances at his pillow, or more like what was hiding under the pillow. His heart raced and his body was tense. He was tense every time someone walked in the room, so it won’t look out of the ordinary. Plus, it wouldn’t be the first time they would catch him staring off into the space.

Still, Peter couldn’t help but flinch when Steve walked in.

“Everything in the laundry basket?”

“Yes.”

The man nodded and went to retrieve the basket. With shaky hands, Peter reached under the pillow and pulled out what was once electric toothbrush. The way Steve acted reminded Peter of Ben a little. That’s why Peter was sorry about what he was about to do.

Unsuspecting Steve walked out, carrying the basket in one hand. Before he could make it to the table, electric crack was heard, followed by his cry of pain, a thud and heavy breathing.

“I’m sorry,” Peter’s silent voice shook as he took several steps back. The noise Steve made would be enough to alert Natasha, who was sure to come barging in any second. Peter covered the improvised stun gun with his hand, making himself look like he didn’t know what was happening. He had still two shots left.

His prediction came true. Peter made sure to keep his eyes on the man to not raise any suspicion as Natasha rushed in, ready to fight.

The scene in front of her surprised her, but she didn’t allow herself to reflect it on her face. Steve was on the ground, panting and groaning and Peter was standing on the side, shaking at the sight. What the hell happened? She took a step towards Steve.

A mistake she had no idea she just made.

“Wa-watch out!” Steve gritted through his teeth.

Natasha spun around, ready to pacify any threat. She struck Peter’s side at the same time as the stun gun made contact. She fell to her knees.

Peter took only a second to compose himself and regain his balance. “I’m sorry,” he said again. “I’m really so sorry.” With that, he spun around and bolted towards the exit.

“What was that?” Natasha was the first one to speak, her voice strained.

“I don’t know,” Steve replied as he began to stand up. “But we have to get him before he runs too far.”

 

Between the forest and the lake, Peter chose the middle path. Which was literally the road. His feet pounded against the asphalt, lungs burning, greedy for the fresh air. “This sucks. I swear, once this is over, I’ll take up running,” he wheezed. Peter knew he shouldn’t, but he kept throwing glances over his shoulder. It never ended well in movies, as the characters always tripped and that was their demise. Although the road was smooth, with how his life turned out to be, combined with Parker luck, one could never know.

A sound of a car approaching reached his ears. Relief flooded Peter’s body when he reached a turn and saw it approach. The car slowed down before Peter could get the driver’s attention.

He should’ve realized something was wrong.

The man got out and the first thing Peter noticed was that the man was dressed in police uniform.

“Hey, hey, hey. What’s wrong?” the officer asked.

Peter tried to catch his breath, glancing back with wild eyes. “P-please, you’ve got to help me. I-I’ve been kidnapped and there are people after me and I don’t know why!” Adrenaline began to fade, leaving room for panic to take over Peter.

A steady hand fell on his shoulder. The officer looked into his eyes. “Hey, it’s okay. You’re okay. Everything’s fine now.”

“Please, help me,” Peter nearly sobbed. He couldn’t bring himself to look the man in the eye. What a pathetic sight he must be?

“I will, don’t worry.”

“Thank you,” Peter breathed out, closing his eyes briefly. He was safe. Or so he thought.

There was pounding of feet coming from behind, followed by shout. Peter turned around, his heart skipping a beat. They’ve caught up.

“Rhodey! Catch him!” Steve called out, Natasha running next to him.

Confusion shot through Peter for a second, trying to figure out at who they were shouting to – until he spotted the name on the officer’s uniform. Rhodes. Peter’s eyes widened with fear, too slow to move from the man that grabbed him, spun him around and wrapped his arm around him, the other one already holding handcuffs hanging on his belt.

Peter trashed in the grip, desperately trying to break free. One of his hands refused to close into fist. The taser. He still had one shot left, though way weaker than the first two. Peter put it against the officer’s thigh and pressed the button. The grip weakened and Peter slipped out, dropping the taser in the process.

The road was a no-go. Peter turned to the right and ran into the forest, hoping the trees would provide cover for him.

“Damn it,” Natasha cursed under her breath as they got to Rhodey, who was doubled over, pressing his palms against his knees and groaning.

“What the hell? How did he get his hands on a taser?” he asked.

“No idea, but we need to go after him before he gets too far or lost,” Steve repeated the words from before, already moving towards the tree line.

The forest went slightly downhill, making it easier for them to track their runaway. The skid marks Peter’s shoes left behind on the ground were prominent. That was until the ground leveled into forest path. The decline continued on the other side.

“This would be easier if Friday was here,” Rhodey muttered, looking around for any sign of the teen.

“He couldn’t have gotten too far. From what we saw, he doesn’t run that fast,” Natasha said.

“Peter?” Steve’s voice boomed through the area. “Peter, come out. Nothing will happen to you, I promise. There will be no consequences to this if you come out now.”

The only answer they received was the sound of the birds chirping above.

“Do we split out?”

“That’s probably the best course of action.”

Silence followed.

Unbeknown to them, the trio was standing right above him. There was a hole in the slope below the road where Peter was curling into a ball to make himself look as small as possible, hidden by a bush. His palms pressed against his mouth to muffle any sound he could make. His lungs burned, but he couldn’t afford take in full breath just yet.

He heard as the people above moved. His sixth sense kept him rooted to his hiding spot, telling him not to move yet. So, he didn’t.

The softest of sighs followed by crack of dry stick made him flinch. Someone slid down the short slope and kept walking down. Peter caught a glimpse of red hair before it disappeared.

He allowed himself to breathe slowly, quietly. What now? His home and the police station were both out of question. Where would he go now?

Peter shook his head. First thing first, he had to get out of here. He was essentially a sitting duck right now. If he was to guess, the two men went the opposite directions of the path. He saw Natasha walk down left. Should he return to the road above or run deeper into the forest? Hm. He’ll compromise.

Hesitantly, Peter stood up on shaky legs, setting direction to down right. He managed to make about five steps when a feminine voice made him freeze.

“Did you really think you could get away?”

No. How did she get behind him? Peter didn’t hear her return! He aborted the move to turn around, choosing to break into a sprint instead.

“Oh no, you don’t,” Natasha hissed and went after him.

The woman was quickly gaining on him. It was as if there were no roots sticking out of the ground, trying to trip her. Peter, on the other hand, had to watch his every step. A branch snapped somewhere above him. There was Steve, running along the path above.

And that’s when Parker luck struck again.

The split-second Peter took his eyes of the ground, his foot stepped on a root covered in leaves and wet moss and slipped. A hand made an attempt to grab him, but it was too late. Peter cried out as he rolled down the hill, feeling every stone and root hit his body. A sharp pain exploded on his forehead and then there was nothing.

 

Tony was having a good day. There was a successful deal, useful intel obtained, and a mole caught in the lower ranks. Alright, the last one was a bit annoying, but nothing that couldn’t be easily solved.

That was until Rhodey called.

“What do you mean injured?! And how did he even get away?”

“Look man, I’ll tell you everything later. Just get either Cho or Strange ready.”

Tony could hear Steve talking in the background, presumably to the kid. “Fine,” he said and hung up. Gosh, the kid was a trouble. That wouldn't fly here.

 

Steve was sitting in the backseat, Peter’s head in his lap and a bandage pressed against his forehead to stop the bleeding.

“Come on, son, wake up. Wake up, open your eyes.”

One of Peter’s brown eyes opened by a crack, not really seeing anything. “No, leave m’lone. ‘m sleeping,” he slurred before his eye close again.

“If there wasn’t a possibility he could be dying, this would be hilarious. Reminds me of Tony when he’s cranky in the morning,” Rhodey laughed nervously.

Natasha stepped on the gas, making the car go faster. The scared look in Peter’s eyes – familiar eyes for some reason – as he fell refused to leave her mind.

She should have caught him.

Notes:

Run, Forre- I mean Peter, run! Oh,never mind...

I have no idea if you can really make stun gun out of electric toothbrush, but if Michael Reeves can make scream-powered microwave and a Roomba that yells when it hits something, I think it would be within realm of possibility. And this is fanfiction, so...

Thank you for reading and all the support!

Chapter 7

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

“Wait, how old? Stark, I’m a surgeon, not a pediatrician.”

“Wait, who’s keeping you on a payroll? Oh, that’s right. Me!” Tony snapped back at the man. “Look, I just need you to make sure that the kid will live, that’s all.”

The two men walked down the hallways of the compound towards the med-bay where Steve will be bringing the kid any minute now. With Cho away in Korea, Tony had to call in Strange. The man was arrogant, but also incredibly skilled. After all, he was the reason Tony was still among the living. The scar on his chest was a proof of that.

“Technically, it’s Ms. Potts, not you.”

Tony rolled his eyes. This was a never-ending battle for the last word. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever.”

They arrived to the med-bay, Stephen preparing the room for the arrival of his patient. The room was equipped better than some of the most lucrative hospitals.  About a minute later, three sets of hurried footsteps could be heard running towards them.

Rhodey was the first one to enter, pushing the door open, allowing Steve to walk in with unconscious teenager in his arms. Natasha remained hovering in the doorway.

“Put him on the bed and tell me how he got like this. And keep it short,” Stephen ordered.

This is the first time Tony saw Peter in person. Although it was hard to compare his face to the picture because of the clearly hastily wrapped bandages covering his whole forehead, going a little over his eyes as well. There was a red smudge bellow the bandage, presumably where the blood was wiped from. Little bit of red began to seep through. 

The kid looked even smaller than he imagined. Somehow, it felt like he didn’t belong on that bed... and for a moment, Tony saw himself as a child, rubbing his own bandaged head because he wasn’t fast enough to dodge…

A grimace flashed across Tony’s face as he swiftly cut off that train of thoughts. That was… odd.

“He,” Steve gesticulated, trying to find the right word, “fell and rolled down the slope in the forest. He’s regained consciousness once, though not for longer than a few seconds.”

“Strange, do your wizard thing.”

“Alright,” Stephen clasped his hands together and rounded on the people behind him. “Everybody out.” He took a penlight out of his pocket.

“Are you seriously kicking me out of my own med-bay?”

Stephen looked at Tony. “Am I telling you how to run your crime empire? No. So, out. Now!”

“Come on, man. We’ll be in the way anyway. It’s not like the kid is going anywhere,” Rhodey placed his hand on Tony’s shoulder, pulling his friend away.

“Yeah, you’re right. Besides, we have to discuss a certain topic,” Tony replied, narrowing his eyes at Steve and Natasha. The door to med-bay closed behind them. There was small bloodstain on Steve’s shirt. Tony decided to hold the conversation until they get somewhere more private. Luckily, his lab wasn't that far.

“Spill,” Tony demanded once the door closed behind them. “How did he even get past you two? He’s tiny! He looks like he would have trouble lifting a bucket filled with water!”

Natasha stepped forward, placing small device on one of the worktables without a word.

“What is that?” Tony eyed the thing up and down, not understanding what it has to do with anything. “Is- is that a handle of electric toothbrush?” What the hell?

“This is how he got past us. We don’t know when or how he did this, but he managed to turn it into some kind of taser. It was strong enough to get us on the ground, giving him time to run. Luckily, Rhodey was there to slow him down.”

Tony picked up the device, pressing the button. Nothing happened. His hand reached for a screwdriver.

“It got you on the ground? Sure, it hurt when he tased me, but not enough to do that,” Rhodey said.

“Huh.”

Three pairs of eyes turned to Tony, who managed to take the lid off and was inspecting the inside. Tony knew how the inside of the toothbrush was supposed to look like from the time he messed around with his own, and it wasn’t supposed to look like this. The whole thing barely held together, but the man saw what the kid had done there.

“Not too bad,” he smirked, nodding his head in approval. He was right. Kid was smart. The others gave him strange looks. “He made a working taser with seemingly no tools. But he had to have something…” His head snapped up. “Okay, the kid got the better of you. This time, you’re forgiven – but just because we all underestimated what he can do. Go back to the lake house, find out what you missed, clean up like he never set his foot in there and come back. He’ll be staying here from now on. And you," he pointed to Steve," change your shirt!”

The two left, leaving Tony and Rhodey alone. Their gazes were drawn to the device.

“So, you’re basically saying the kid’s a genius,” Rhodey said, poking at the thing. “Almost like someone else I know.”

“The hell? You’re comparing me to a kid?”

Rhodey couldn’t help but laugh at his friend’s horrified expression.

 

Peter’s eyes opened to white, sterile room. Something about the environment made him irritated. Or was it the action of waking up in unknown place? Where did that come from?

“Welcome back to the land of the living.”

Peter searched for the source of the flat voice. Turning his head to the side, he spotted a man, a doctor, sitting at a table and reading something on a tablet. Finally, the man’s eyes met his and he walked over to the bed Peter was lying on.

Peter rubbed his hand across his face, feeling the thing wrapped around his head. A bandage? Why did he have a bandage on his head? Pushing himself upward, Peter looked around the room. Did he have some kind of accident? Have Ben and May been notified he’s here? “Why am I in the hospital?”

Light shone into his eyes, making Peter flinch. Just as it appeared, it disappeared, leaving blind spots in its wake. Peter blinked to get rid of them.

“What’s your name?” the doctor asked, ignoring Peter’s question.

Name? His name... Oh, yeah! “I’m Peter. Peter Parker.”

“How are you feeling? Any nausea? Pain?”

“Uh, no? Why? What happened?” This was a strange doctor. Weren’t doctors supposed to introduce themselves?

“What is the last thing you remember?”

“Last thing I remember…” Peter repeated the question to himself. He looked down on his legs covered with thin blanket. What did he remember? His face lit up in recognition. “The school ended, I put my things in my locker and went outside to wait for my aunt and uncle to pick me up. We’re going to see a movie in the evening.”

Peter’s smile slipped from his face at the look the doctor gave him.

Stephen mentally groaned. When he was done with the examination, he studied the boy’s file while he waited for him to wake up, to know what he was dealing with. From what he read, his aunt and uncle were dead.

“Mr. doctor?”

Okay, Stephen will attempt to break it to him gently, just because of those innocent eyes. “That was more than a year ago. They’re gone.”

Welp, at least he tried. He never said he was good at it.

Puzzled expression took over Peter’s face. Gone? Like, they’ve gone home? But more than a year? “What? I’ve been here for more than a year? I-I don’t… I don’t…” There was something amiss. Like a chunk of his memory was missing. Then it hit him like a lightning out of clear sky. The events of past year and half… and the events of past days.

Images flashed through his mind, both older and recent. The parking lot where he waited for Ben and May, the odd looks people in that foster home were giving him, moving out of their apartment, the new apartment – so empty, the green mist, all those people he didn’t know…

Peter gripped his elbows, leaning forward to ease the pain in his chest. His eyes burned. They’ve got him again. He failed to escape.

“No, no, no,” he murmured under his breath with no break, his voice breaking. “Ben, May.” What now? Peter’s mind was in overdrive, caught between fight or flight. He wanted to flee. He needed to flee. If he stayed here, the walls would close in on him and—

There were hands firmly grasping his shoulders, giving Peter’s body slight shake. “Snap out of that.”

Peter tired, he really did. But… he couldn’t. He had to get out of here.

“I don’t think that will be possible right now,” Strange said.

Did he say that last part out loud?

Stephen sighed. He let go of Peter’s shoulders and went for a cabinet on the opposite wall. His eyes found the clear vial he was looking for, unwrapped the syringe and prepared a dose. He turned back around, seeing that the boy was about to topple over on the ground. By some miracle, Peter didn’t get a concussion during the fall. Stephen wouldn’t let him get one now.

In three strides, he crossed the distance and pushed Peter down on the bed, holding his arm down and injecting him with the substance. The prick of the needle seemed to do the trick.

“Ow!” Peter yelped, covering the hurting spot whit his other hand. “What was that?” he asked with unease at the sight of the syringe and the strange feeling that was spreading through his body. He felt his heart slowing down to its normal rhythm.

“Just a little relaxant to keep you calm. Your limbs might feel a little numb for about fifteen minutes, which is a normal side-effect, but otherwise, it’s harmless,” Stephen said as he disposed of the syringe. “Now,” he turned back to Peter, “the good thing is that you had no serious injury, but don’t attempt anything like that again any time soon. Something is telling me the others won’t appreciate it.”

Peter watched the man walk to the table and put his thing in his bag. “Please, let me go,” he pleaded, looking upward to prevent the tears from falling. Though Peter knew the answer he was about to receive.

Stephen swung the strap of the bag over his shoulder and walked to the bed, something silver in his hand reflecting the light from the lamp above. With one swift movement, he snapped one cuff around the boy’s wrist, the other one around the side frame of the bed. He saw as the realization dawned on Peter, who began to pull at the handcuffs.

“Sorry, orders from the top. My job here is done.” Damn, the kid looked like kicked puppy, Stephen thought before he sighed. “Look, I’m going to tell you this: don’t make this harder for yourself. Play by their rules and you’ll be fine.” Probably, but that went unsaid. “They clearly want you alive. I wouldn’t be here otherwise.” With that, he turned around and left.

Now, to find Stark. There could be two places where he could be; his lab or his office – that’s where he always found him. So, lab first.  He saw the other man, Barnes, walk in there as well, but the man didn’t see him. He opened the door and held out his hand before retreating once again. This time, he noticed Strange. They exchanged curt nods before going their separate ways again.

Stephen didn’t bother to knock. “Good news for you lunatics, the boy is better than expected and will live. The bad news, the stress will probably do him in.”

“Lunatics?!” Tony called out, offended.

“Really?” Rhodey asked, his brow creasing. “There was quite a lot of blood.”

“Human body is extremely resilient, yet fragile. That was just from a cut on his forehead, it looked worse than it was. His body shut down because of the shock. Otherwise, no concussion, nothing broken, just a couple of bruises.”

“What did you mean by your second statement?” Tony raised his chin, seemingly ignoring what was being said.

Stephen rolled his eyes. This was starting to get annoying. “When he woke up, he had a brief episode of amnesia. His brain transported him to safer times, which means he got to relive everything that happened since then. His body responded with panic attack. The stress he’s experienced is not good for him. I’m not a psychologist or psychiatrist but I can say this: if you want him relatively well, don’t stress him out too much. I’ll be going now. I’ll send you complete report when I get home.” Stephen didn’t wait for the answer, spun on his heel and left.

“Asshole,” Tony said to the spot the doctor was previously standing. “Platypus, remind me why keep him around?”

Rhodey was getting tired. All he wanted was a peaceful leave. “Because Stephen Strange is the best surgeon in New York and you wouldn’t settle for anything less.”

“Uh-huh,” Tony nodded to himself, then shrugged and grabbed the device from the table and plastic bag Natasha brought him when they came back. “Well, I guess it’s the time to have a chat with the kid.”

“Tones, you sure? Strange said not to stress him.”

“He said too much,” Tony made air quotes, “I’ll just have a little chat with him. He got my attention, so he’s got to deal with it and I’m about to satisfy my curiosity.”

Rhodey sighed but followed. “This won’t end well.”

Notes:

Hello darkness my old friend. New semester began again.
But let’s play a game called “What will author do about school?”
A) Author will study throughout the year and do her schoolwork reasonably
B) Like a reasonable adult, author will leave everything for the last minute because diamonds are made under pressure, and she will keep writing whenever she wants to because... just because, I have no excuse

Place your bets in the comments

Thank you all for continuous support!

Chapter 8

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Peter was getting desperate. The tears stopped flowing a few minutes ago, but what made him restless was the fact that he couldn’t feel… anything, really. He knew he should be scared, terrified and hyperventilating, but the thing the doctor gave him made that impossible. And then there was the numbness. It was weird mix of feeling and not feeling anything. He had no idea how strong he was pulling against the handcuffs, but a mark began to appear when the cuff dug into his wrist.

The digital clock on the wall was the only thing that brought him any sort of comfort. Peter assumed it was meant for other people here when they wake up, so they wouldn’t be confused.

Tuesday, August 3rd, 8:15PM.

So, he was right about how much time he’s spent in captivity. 

Peter swung his legs over the edge of bed, his eyes searching for anything that could help him get out of the handcuffs. Time to utilize his random YouTube knowledge again. “Okay, so if I tighten them as much as possible and then- no that’s for zip ties… pin. I need a pin or something,” he muttered to himself.

Of course, there was nothing. It wasn’t like they would leave anything that would help him escape within his reach. And Peter didn’t particularly feel like dislocating his wrist; not to mention he had no idea how to do that. Peter ran his free hand through his hair, feeling the edge of the bandage. He most likely blew his last chance to escape.

At this point, Peter would rather take a shot at living on that snake island near Brazil. He was pretty sure he would have bigger chance at surviving there than here.

In last desperate attempt, Peter wrapped his free hand around the cuffed one and pulled with what he assumed was his full strength. This time, he felt something. The numbness must be fading.

The door opened without a warning, making Peter jump a little. There was no use trying to stand up and get away. He might as well face the people head-on.

A man in expensive looking suit and a goatee strolled in like he was owning the place, which in Peter’s opinion was possible. Though he couldn’t wrap his head around the reason why he was wearing sunglasses indoors, not to mention at this hour. The other man walked right behind the first one. This one Peter recognized as that police officer from before, except he’s changed from his uniform into more casual clothes.

Tony saw the boy flinch as he stopped his endeavors to free his hand. That seemed to be the only display of fear until he’s gotten a better look on Peter’s face. The way he tensed, how his jaw set, the small furrow around his eyes… he was afraid. Good.

“Morning, sleeping beauty. Slept well after that little stunt you pulled?” Tony took off his glasses and put them in his pocket. Peter responded by pressing his arms closer to his torso. “What, cat got your tongue?” Tony tilted his head to the side in mock curiosity, ignoring everybody’s advices and requests to not be too harsh.

“Why am I here?” Peter asked. On one side, he was glad that he managed to keep his voice from shaking. On the other side, he didn’t really understand why he asked that question, since any previous inquiry about "why" weren't very helpful. It was the first thing that crossed his mind. Still, he thought it was due time that he received some damn answers.

“You know,” Tony began, ignoring Peter’s question, “I don’t understand why you ran. Sure, I admit that waking up in a different place than where you fell asleep might be a bit confusing, but nothing you can’t get used to. I know I’m used to it,” he shrugged. Yes, it was different when it’s alcohol induced and it’s your best friend that is dragging your ass home, but that was beside the point.

“But a nice bed, bathroom, the view from the window and three meals a day? That’s on par with at least three-star hotel.”

“I would rate the experience zero stars on Trivago, then,” Peter replied and mentally screamed at himself to shut his mouth before he got himself in more trouble.

Tony seemed to be stunned for a second and Rhodey made a weird choking sound, covering it by coughing before resuming straight face. His lips remained strangely pursed though.

Something bounced off the mattress and landed next to Peter. The man was also holding up clear plastic bag with his tools. So, they found them. He looked to the side, not wanting to look at the reminder of his failure.

“You made this?”

Peter refused to answer or to acknowledge the man. There were footsteps and fingers roughly gripped his jaw, turning his head to look at the man. Everything about Tony screamed danger. Especially the cold look in his eyes. “I don’t like it when people ignore me.”

“Yes,” Peter yelped, and the fingers disappeared, along with the cold look. Yet Peter felt small under the man’s gaze.

Tony reached for nearby chair and sat opposite to Peter. “That’s more like it.” He made sure the boy would catch a glimpse of the gun tucked at his side, before he put on more causal tone. “I must say, I’m impressed. Though I should probably expect that from someone attending one of the best schools in New York.”

The knowledge that these people knew things about him made Peter’s skin crawl. He barely suppressed a shudder.

“But know this,” Tony leaned froward, placing his forearms on his knees, “I won’t tolerate anything like this again. There will be harsher consequences next time.”

It was almost unnoticeable, but Tony wouldn’t be alive today if he hadn’t learned to see the slightest shifts in body language. The kid raised his chin.

“Like what?” Peter asked, the fear in his voice poorly concealed.

Tony had to admit, the kid was acting brave, which was impressive. Or he was being reckless. Both options were possible. “Today you’re lucky and you’ll be going to bed without dinner, but just because I don’t need Strange breathing down my neck about not listening to him. But I’m pretty sure Natasha would like to remind you if you already forgot.”

The boy shifted in discomfort at the reminder of the woman and what she said to him. Peter didn’t mind his punishment too much, especially considering he didn’t feel like he could keep anything down after this encounter. He reminded himself it could be worse. One does not simply underestimate Parker luck.

“And as for the reason why you’re here,” Tony said, pushing himself up and began to pace the length of the room, “your parents took away something of mine. Something I want back here. Right now, you’re more useful to me alive than dead. Don’t make me reconsider that,” he said like he was talking about the weather.

It was annoying that Parkers were taking their time. Come on, it’s been five days since they found out their kid was missing. 

“What?” Peter asked, the threat flying over his head for now. So, another of his guesses was kind of right? This had to do something with his parents. “If this is about their research, then I know nothing about it, I swear,” Peter raised his hands in surrender, only for his cuffed one to jerk back, the chain rattling.

Now was Tony’s turn to be confused. “Research?” Then it dawned on him. Tony wanted to laugh. The kid really had no idea what his parents were doing.

Peter’s heartbeat picked up. Why was the man confused? What if- what if there was a mix-up?! Was Peter mistaken for someone else? Somehow, the possibility of it being so made him feel relieved and uneasy at the same time. Because if there was a mix-up… Peter felt like he had outlived his usefulness.

“Your parents are Richard and Mary Parker, correct?”

“Yeah, they’re scientists.” Oh god, oh god, oh god – what now? There was no way out of this.

Tony caught Rhodey’s eye. They both reached the same conclusion. Rhodey tired to convey through his eyes to let it go. But when did Tony listen to reason?

“Sorry to tell you this, but they’re not,” Tony said, not sounding apologetic at all. “Yeah, they’re actually agents in this secret organization called Shield. From the look on your face, I guess they didn’t tell you. Oh well,” he shrugged, “everyone has some dirty little secret.”

Peter swore the world stopped spinning. No, that couldn’t be true. “Y-you’re lying,” he said weakly. The man just had to be attempting to get under his skin. “You’re lying!” he repeated louder. There was a plea in his voice; a plea that begged the man to admit he was lying, to start laughing at Peter for falling for it. Peter had science in his blood! That’s what he wanted to do since he could remember. They had to be…

“Kid, I might be many things, but I’m not a liar.” He got around on technicalities.

And with that, Peter’s world shook to its core. There was something about the words that rang true. Peter knew about… The reason he was… He wouldn’t put it above his parents to lie to him. Still, it didn’t make it hurt any less. Peter stared at the floor, his jaw clenched. He was sure he started trembling at some point.

“Welp, I gotta go. I’ve got some other business to attend to,” Tony walked towards the door. “Rhodey, show the kid to the room? And those,” he pointed to the handcuffs, “stay on until you get there. Because shame on you for running.”

Rhodey shot Tony scolding look but nodded, moving towards Peter while he was taking out the key from his pocket.

“And remember,” he said to Peter, “you behave, I get back what’s mine and your parents can come to pick you up and have nice family reunion with hugs and all.”

“Good luck with that,” Peter mumbled under his breath.

“What was that?” Tony looked over his shoulder from the doorway. “I didn’t catch that.”

Tony didn’t catch that, but Rhodey did. Something was definitely wrong here.

“Nothing,” Peter said louder.

Tony kept looking at kid’s slumped shoulders for exactly three seconds before he left the room, squashing the seed of guilt that began to bloom in his chest for some reason. Why was he feeling bad? There was no reason for him to feel bad, he’s done this countless of times before! Maybe because the kid was small?

Rhodey unlocked the cuff chaining Peter to the bed and gently placed it around Peter’s free wrist. It made the boy feel like a criminal, despite being the only one innocent here. “Let’s go,” Rhodey said softly and pulled Peter to his feet, placing his hand on his back and steered him from the room.

Peter kept quiet for the whole journey from the med-bay to his new cell, not bothering to try to remember how many hallways and turns they took.

Tony took different hallways to his and Pepper’s bedroom. He was supposed to go and stay at the penthouse with her, but with the situation being as it was, she came here instead. A thud followed by soft curse caused Tony to snap his head towards the vent. There was only one person that could be making noises up there.

“That you, Katniss?”

At the mention of the nickname, Clint spoke, all gleeful. “Ooh, Stark got snark from a kid.”

Tony could hear the grin on the man’s face. “Didn’t your parents teach you it’s impolite to listen in on other people’s conversations?” For a moment Tony wondered why he built the vents big enough for Clint to crawl through.

“Yeah, but I saw Strange leaving and I got curious. I must say, the thing with going to bed without dinner? Very dad-like move. I approve. But the kid’s comment? Priceless. It was hilarious until the end, you were a little harsh, I feel kinda bad. You had to tell him?”

“Don’t you have anything better to do than bother me?” Tony rolled his eyes.

“Oh, yeah. I’m definitely on my way to tell others what hilarious display they missed.”

“Get out of here!” Tony snapped, looking for something he could throw at the vent and hopefully, the shaft would break and hit Clint in the face. He was met with cackling that grew quiet as Clint crawled away. Tony didn’t doubt he was going to follow through what he said.

He sighed, not really able to do anything about it. He’s sure there will be teasing in the morning. Finally, his bedroom door appeared in front of him. He pushed it open and sight of Pepper sitting at the desk with laptop in front of her greeted him.

“Hey, love.”

“Hey, Tony.”

“I’ve missed you so much. Where were you for the whole day?” he bent down and nuzzled a furry head. He got a lick on his cheek in response. “Were you with Happy outside all this time?”

Pepper rolled her eyes. “Nice to know you love Friday more than me.”

“Nonsense,” Tony said as he was giving belly-rubs to the German shepherd sprawled on her back. “I love both of my girls equally.”

Pepper hummed. “Where were you?”

Tony stood up and went to hug his fiancée. “Kid’s trouble. Had to deal with that,” he mumbled into her hair. “But what’s with that?” he asked looking at the laptop. “I thought we agreed to leave work out of this bedroom.”

“Was it good idea to show him your face?”

“No worries. When the time comes, we’ve got something to make him forget, then drop him off back home. He won’t remember a thing,” Tony reassured, kissing her on her cheek.

Pepper hummed, then made disgusted face. “Ew, no. First Friday licks you and now you kiss me? Go wash your face,” she shrugged Tony’s arms from her shoulders and slapped away his attempted advance.

“Fierce but sweet. Exactly how I love my girls,” Tony winked, gave her a quick peck on her lips and went to wash up.

Notes:

Boo, Tony. Boo.

This chapter was brought to you during my online class. Also, fun fact – I had no idea that August 3rd actually falls on Tuesday this year. Imagine my surprise when I checked out of curiosity. Funny coincidence. And I'm still not done laying down all puzzle pieces, but it will all be worth it when it falls in place.

Things are about to go down in next chapter. See ya!

Chapter 9

Notes:

Me: So, you came up with this one scene.
My brain: Yup.
Me: That’s kinda messed up.
My brain: I can come up with worse!
Me: I know. Please don’t.

(Dark Tony being dark Tony)

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

This room was slightly different than the one at the lake house, which was a surprise. It was bigger and there was a closet. Peter was half-expecting to be thrown in some basement this time, maybe an attic if they were feeling fancy. Like before, the window was no good. The clothes he was currently wearing also weren’t his.

After Rhodey dropped Peter off in the room and removed the handcuffs, he pointed to the fresh clothes on the chair. So, Peter walked to the bathroom, examined the bruises decorating his body and took a shower to get rid of the forest dirt before he changed. Mindful of the bandage on his head, of course.

And now he was here, sitting on the bed with his back pressed against the wall and his chin resting on his knees. His fingers played with the edge of his blanket. He was grateful they brought it here – he would hate to lose it. It even pained him to leave it behind during his escape. Sometimes, when he closed his eyes, he could pretend it still smelled like the old apartment.

Like home.

His parents lied to him. It could be because they wanted to protect him, and it would've made sense if Peter hadn’t overheard a part of a conversation he wasn’t supposed to hear long time ago. But that left a whole new question about where his science skills came from.

Peter’s tired brain didn’t register the door opening.

“You look terrible,” Steve said, a hint of concern seeping into his voice.

“Thanks, it’s the lack of sleep,” Peter replied without thinking or looking at the man. Honestly, he was surprised that after what happened yesterday, Steve would still come to bring him food. Peter also had no idea how he looked. He didn’t move from his spot once he sat down.

“You didn’t sleep for the whole night?”

“Would you sleep if you found out your parents had been lying to you about what they were actually doing?” Peter snapped without meaning to. He was cranky when he was tired. But he hoped the short snappy answers would make Steve get the memo that he wanted to be alone.

Steve raised his hands in placating manner. “Hey, it’s okay. So, Tony told you?”

“Who’s Tony?”

“Suit, goatee, sunglasses?” Steve offered before his forehead furrowed. “Wait, you don’t know who Tony Stark is?”

Should he? Judging from Steve’s reaction, he probably should. He didn’t recognize the face, but the name sounded somewhat familiar. Where did he hear it? Oh well. “Sorry, but no.”

“Oh. Well, you should know that he’s a force to be reckoned with. He was pretty mad. I assume that won’t help to improve our rating?” Steve said in an attempt to lighten up the atmosphere.

“Sorry. And I’m sorry for tasing you, too,” Peter offered and fell silent.

It must have finally catch up with Steve that Peter wouldn’t talk. “Hey, I know it’s difficult for you, but it will be over before you know it.” With that, he left.

Peter didn’t eat the breakfast or the lunch. Ben and May taught him to never waste food and Peter felt bad about it, but this was his little way to show his resistance. When asked about it, he simply replied he wasn’t hungry. By the time the dinner rolled around and it remained untouched as well, they must’ve realized something was wrong, considering that Peter had nothing to eat since lunch yesterday.

 

“P-please, you don’t have to do this. I-I can- I can help you with anything you ask, just please—”

Tony tuned out the pleas of the man, the mole, tied down to a chair. What a pathetic sight, really. He had an obviously broken nose, cuts covered exposed skin and there was a hole above his knee where a knife was sticking out a few hours prior.

“No thanks, we already have everything we need,” Tony said nonchalantly, took out his gun and shot, spraying the white tiles in red. Ugh, despite the silencer, it was still loud in the closed space. He turned to Bucky standing in the corner who was cleaning his knife. “Take out the garbage.” Good thing the tiles were easy to clean.

Bucky nodded and Tony left to his next destination. Imagine his surprise when reluctant Steve came up to him this morning and told him that the kid didn’t as much as touch his food yesterday. Another good thing was that Tony managed to blow off some anger already. Now it was just a minor annoyance.

He kept wondering about the Parkers – particularly about the boy’s mother.

Mary was a common name. He met a lot of women named Mary. But Mary Parker? The name Mary Parker didn’t spark any memory.

Why wouldn’t that nagging feeling just let him go? Maybe it was because the kid was now here, in the same building? 

There was something missing and Tony wouldn’t find peace until he found out what it was.

Tapping of paws caught his attention. “Hey, girl,” Tony patted Friday’s head, “you want to go with me? Yeah?” Friday wagged her tail, happy to accompany her owner. “Let’s go, then.”

Tony unlocked the door and raised single brow at the position the kid was in. His back was on the bed, but his legs were stretched up against the wall. “Interesting choice, but don’t ruin my wall.” And there it was. On the table, untouched breakfast. He heard the kid move on the bed. He turned around to say something but stopped when he was Peter carefully reaching out his hand towards Friday.

Friday gave his hand a sniff, then lick and pressed her head against Peter’s palm. Tiny smile pulled at Peter’s lips as he petted her, some of the tension in his back melting away. The scene radiated odd domesticity, but Friday was like that. She was really sweet dog overall, except when she saw a weapon drawn by someone she wasn't familiar with. But it was still odd, since she was wary of strangers.

Tony pulled the chair from the table and set it opposite of the bed, mimicking the scene from med-bay. “You didn’t eat your breakfast. Or anything else yesterday.”

Just like that, the tension in Peter’s back returned. “’m not hungry,” he muttered.

“All right, first of all you need to stop mumbling, I’m tired of straining my ears to hear you. Second of all, we both know that’s bullshit. And kids your age have to eat, or are you content with your height? You’re not going to hit that growth spurt like this.”

Peter blushed. “I am growing!” he protested. “I just take a little longer because I was born a month early, that’s all” he added in small voice.

Friday slipped from under Peter’s hand and walked over to Tony. She jumped up on his leg and sniffed his neck before Tony shooed her away. Returning to Peter, she jumped up on the bed, pressing her nose against the boy’s cheek and neck. Her tail started to wag.

“Hey, stop,” Peter giggled as he tried to avoid the wet nose.

Huh, so Friday took a liking to the kid. First time she liked someone that quickly. By the looks of it, the kid liked her too.

“Yeah, right,” Tony said, making it look like he wasn’t buying it. But it would explain why the kid was so small. “Look, if you’re doing this as some show of defiance, I advise you to drop it while I’m asking nicely.”

There it was, that subtle show of defiance. “What if I won’t?”

Okay, time to change tactics. “Hm, let’s see,” Tony tapped his chin, pretending to think. “What was that other boy’s name? Fred? Ted?” A smile spread across Tony’s face when he saw the color drain from Peter’s face. “Oh, that’s right! It was Ned! And that girl? Michelle, right? You are classmates and friends. One on a vacation, the other one on activists convention. Quite admirable of her.” He switched to more carefree demeanor. “Would be a shame if anything happened to either of them.”

“Leave them out of this! Whatever this is,” Peter said in horrified, pleading voice. The bravado he was trying to show fell like a house of cards. If it was just him, then fine! But… He couldn’t allow these people to hurt his friends.

“That depends on your behavior from now on.”

Peter lowered his eyes in defeat.

“Or you know what? Let’s settle this right now. Friday,” Tony’s expression turned serious, whistled and the dog jumped down and sat at Tony’s side. With practiced ease, Tony pulled out his gun and threw it at Peter.

Peter jumped up, tripping over his feet to avoid the gun landing on his lap. What the hell? That’s got to be dangerous!

Tony stood up and went to pick up the gun. “Here’s the deal. Take this, shoot me and you can go, free of consequences,” he said as he advanced towards the teen that was backing away. “Pretty sweet deal if I say so myself.”

Peter’s breath hitched when his back hit the wall. He had nowhere to run.

“Come on, take it.”

“No,” Peter’s voice shook.

Tony ignored the protests, grabbed Peter’s arm, forced the gun into his hand and let go. Peter gripped the handle in fear of the gun slipping out of his hand and accidentally going off. Friday let out low growl.

“Friday, hush,” Tony said and she stopped. He turned his whole attention on the teen that was holding the gun at arm’s length, as if the metal was scorching hot. “Go ahead. Shoot.”

“No!”

Peter’s heart beat painfully in his chest when Tony grabbed the hand holding the weapon and began to move it towards his own chest. Peter struggled, but the man was stronger and towering over him. He slipped Peter’s finger over the trigger.

“One pull and it’s over. It’s either me or you.”

“Please, no, Mr. Stark, stop. Stop! Please!” Peter tired to move, but he couldn’t.

“On three,” Tony went on, smiling. “One, two… three.”

Peter screwed his eyes shut and jerked his head to the side as Tony moved Peter’s finger. There was a click followed by silence. No deafening bang, no splay of blood. Peter’s whole body shook. Single tear slid down his cheek.

A chuckle grew into full blown laugh, making Peter squint one eye open. Tony’s shoulders shook as he took a step back, pulling the gun from Peter’s grasp. He was glad to let it go.

Tony pointed the gun upwards and pulled the trigger several times, every time with the same result. “Safety’s on, kiddo,” and it was unloaded, “oh, you should see your face!” he laughed. “You thought I would actually do that? Or that I would shoot here? Come on, what are we? Hydra?”

Throwing his arm around Peter’s shoulders, ignoring how the boy flinched, Tony guided him to the table. He grabbed the chair and made Peter sit. “Eat. I won’t leave until the bowl’s empty,” he said and plopped down on the bed.

Friday approached the boy and lied down at his feet. “That was not funny,” Peter said once his heart slowed down to more natural pace, but his voice still heavily shook. The content of bowl made him feel queasy despite looking delicious, but Peter took the spoon nonetheless. The sooner he was done with it, the sooner the man would leave.

“So, Peter, tell me about yourself,” Tony said casually, as if he just didn’t traumatize the boy.

“Why? Don’t you already know everything?” Peter asked hesitantly.

“Eh, not exactly. I’m curious. Based on your school, I guess you like science?”

Peter worked through the bowl, answering Tony’s questions just enough to satisfy him. Somehow, the conversation steered towards his parents. “But mom had to do some scientific work before. I’ve read her paper,” Peter said. He read one that was available. He was told the rest was classified.

“Oh really? What topic?” Tony’s brow raised, interested.

“Nanotechnology in medical use.”

“There is no paper like that under that name.”

“By Mary Fitzpatrick,” Peter clarified.

The name caught Tony’s attention. “Fitzpatrick?”

“Yeah. Her maiden name. That was the only paper under that name. The rest—" Peter cut himself off. Yeah, the rest… probably didn’t exist.

Mary. Fitzpatrick. Yeah, that sparked some memory. Tony recalled the photo from the meeting. “Does she—”

“I’m done,” Peter cut him off and put the spoon down in finality. “You can go.”

Tony pushed himself up. “Kicking me out?” He received no response. Peter hung his head and clenched his fists. Tony gave him awkward pat on the back, making the boy flinch again as he took the bowl. “Remember what we talked about. Friday.” The dog got up and followed Tony out of the room.

The missing piece finally fell in place. And if he remembered correctly, Tony met Mary Fitzpatrick in the past. About fifteen years ago? Tony had a vague recollection of some New Year party. A party. Fifteen years ago. They did-

Tony abruptly stopped in his tracks, making Friday look at him in worry.

How old was the kid again?

No, no, that couldn’t be right. That was a coincidence, and he could remember the years wrong.

But the feeling in his stomach wouldn’t go away. His eyes slid to the bowl in his hand. Well, there was genetic material. Okay, he would check, but just to get rid of the feeling. 

The vacant med-bay was equipped with everything, he made sure of that. So, he did everything needed and to pass the time, he went to put together the timeline of the events. It added up, but still, it meant nothing. It could still be a coincidence.

The tablet beeped, telling Tony it was done and the results were ready. He reached for the tablet, opening the report. Surely, there was no way-

Oh.

Oh no.

Notes:

Ladies and gentlemen, it’s here.
*yeets chapter and runs away*

Chapter 10

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

“Tony?” Rhodey called out as he followed Friday down the hallway. “Tones, are you in there?”

Nobody saw the man since morning. Bucky was the last one with him before he went to see the kid. Then Friday appeared and began pulling Rhodey’s pant leg and softly barking, clearly wanting him to follow her. She led him towards the med-bay, where she slipped into the room.

“Tones?” he called out again, quieter as he pushed the door open. His best friend was sitting on the bed, his back facing Rhodey. He wasn’t moving. “Hey, man. There you are. Lunch is done, you’re the only one that didn’t eat yet.”

Friday sat in front of Tony, making huffing noises. The lack of response was concerning.

“Tony, what’s wrong? Are you injured or something?” he asked, stepping in Tony’s line of vision.

His shoulders were slumped, face blank as he kept staring ahead at the blank wall. It was like he wasn’t aware that someone was in the room with him.

“Are you having existential crisis? Should I call somebody? Pepper?”

“I have a kid,” Tony said, his lips barely moving.

“What? Can you repeat that? I didn’t hear that.”

Tony wordlessly passed him the tablet he held in his hands. “Man, you’re scaring me,” Rhodey threw worried look at him before he turned on the device. There was a graph he didn’t understand, but the words on top and bottom made up for that. His eyes bulged.

Paternity test. 99.99% match.

“O-oh. Oh, okay. Is… is this yours?”

“I have a kid,” Tony repeated more coherently, his voice losing some of the flatness.

“Uh, congratulations?” Oh dear. His brain was short-circuiting, just like Tony’s. “So, who-who’s the kid. I mean… is it a boy or a girl? How old? Where are they?”

Silence stretched over the room. “Upstairs, locked in the room.”

Rhodey felt like someone dumped a bucket of icy water on him. “Hold on. You mean,” he paused, “Peter?!”

“I have a kid,” Tony repeated again, this time disbelief and distress seeping into his voice.

Rhodey needed to sit or else he was gonna fall down. He plopped down next to Tony, mirroring the man’s posture and expression. The two of them just sat there, staring off into space. Friday looked between them, letting out a sound that could be translated as very annoyed come on!

“So, this happened. Are you sure, though?”

“I double-checked. Everything matches up.”

“Wow. A whole-ass kid. How is that even possible?”

“I think I traumatized my kid just now.”

That seemed to snap Rhodey out of his state. “You what?” Tony turned his head away slightly, making Rhodey suspicious. “Tony, what did you do?” No response. “Tony,” Rhodey said in his ‘fess up tone. He knew whatever comes from his friend’s mouth, it won’t be good.

Tony grimaced. “Oh God, I’m just like Howard.”

“What? No, no,” Rhodey patted him on the back in placating manner. He knew all about Tony’s fear of turning out like his father. “Look, you’re shocked, I’m too, so I think the best thing we can do right now is to call a meeting and we’ll figure out the things from there. More heads and all that. Sounds good?”

“I guess,” he shrugged, still dazed.

Rhodey pulled out his phone and sent a text to others to be in meeting room in five minutes. “All right. Pull yourself together and then you’ll explain everything to us.”

The pulling-yourself-together didn’t work as much as Rhodey thought it would, since he had to literally drag the man through the hallways, supporting his weight so he wouldn’t topple over. Kind of like the old times, except it had nothing to do with alcohol this time. Or maybe it did…

By the time the two, accompanied by Friday carrying the tablet, stumbled into the room, everyone was already present. Tony’s state raised some concern among the team.

“Woah, is he okay?” Clint asked.

“Yes and no,” Rhodey grunted as he plopped Tony’s ass on the chair. “There’s been a… development.

“What development?” Bucky asked.

“You see—”

“I have a kid.”

It was like someone dropped live grenade into the room. The words were heavy with haze but managed to shut the everyone up. Some looked shocked, some tried to hide the shock, unsuccessfully. There was no denying the wide-eyed looks.

Clint was the first one to break the silence. “Wait, what?”

Friday took it as a cue to rest her front paws on the table and dropped the tablet in front of him. Clint made a face while he wiped off the saliva. He pressed the button, the screen came to life, showing the results of the DNA test. He gaped, then laughed, shoved the tablet into Natasha’s hands and walked over to Tony.

“You’re a father! Congrats and welcome to the club,” he gripped Tony’s shoulders and shook him around.

The action seemed to snap Tony out of the state. “Hey, hands off the suit!” he slapped Clint’s hands away. “Shoo!”

Natasha passed the tablet to Steve and Bucky. “Who’s the child?” Steve asked and all eyes turned to Tony.

“Eh, you see…” Tony began reluctantly.

“It’s Peter,” Rhodey said quickly, like ripping off a band-aid.

For the second time, stunned silence followed. Unsure glances were thrown around, everybody searching for answers they didn’t have.

“Let me get this straight,” Bucky began carefully. “You,” he pointed at Tony, “gave order to kidnap the kid that now turned out to be… your kid,” he pointed to general direction of Peter’s room. “I’m confused.”

“You know, that actually makes sense. I knew his eyes looked familiar, I just couldn’t place from where,” Natasha shrugged. “He’s smart, as he proved with that taser, not a morning person, can be snarky from what Clint told us and if Tony let his hair grow out, it would curl like his too. The only difference is that he’s got manners. That can’t be said about you.”

“Is that the reason he looked all shaken when I brought him lunch?” Steve asked.

“No, that might be completely separate incident,” Rhodey said before Tony could get anything out of his mouth. The two men narrowed their eyes at each other. “Which he should better start explaining. But let’s start from the beginning.”

“Are you all ganging up on me? I’m your boss. This is my building,” Tony uselessly protested. The team was unimpressed. “Ugh, fine. Remember the meeting last Monday? When Rhodey pulled out those photos? The woman looked vaguely familiar, but I couldn’t place from where, as the name didn’t ring any bells. But give her blue eye contacts, dye her hair blonde and use her maiden name, which is Fitzpatrick... The kid let that name slip in the conversation we had.”

“Fitzpatrick? I thought she died in a plane crash,” Natasha said. And she was right. Agent Fitzpatrick, should have died in April of 2001.

“Well, we all thought so, but apparently she survived,” Tony shrugged.

“Double identity,” Natasha concluded. It was the most possible scenario. Nobody knew nothing about Mary Parker except the year she joined Shield, already married. Mary Fitzpatrick joined the organization three years earlier.

“And how do you know her?” Clint asked.

Tony sighed. “She was sent to get some information from me fifteen years ago. We met at a New Year party and knew each other for about a week. And… it was in my wild years and you know how I was back then. Frankly, it was one my life’s best fuc—”

“Okay, we don’t need to hear the details,” Steve raised his hands, a look of discomfort on his face.

Natasha fake gasped. “Steve, he almost said bad word.”

“You all won’t let that go, huh?”

“No, and you know why?” Tony interjected. “It’s because of your handwriting that that old delivery guy butchered my name!”

“Uh, guys? Back on track?” Bucky said, effectively preventing an argument between the two.

“Yeah, right. It happened only once and I was careful as always, but,” Tony gestured vaguely, “I guess something must have failed. After that, Happy blew her cover and she left with nothing useful.”

“Isn’t he going to be fifteen this month? Timeline doesn’t add up,” Steve said.

“He was born one month early.”

“Oh. Forget I said anything.”

“So, Peter doesn’t know he’s your son? What about his parents? Or, well, mother,” Clint asked, trying to make the situation clear.

“He doesn’t.” Tony’s eyes widened once the words left his mouth. “At least I hope he doesn’t. That would make this whole situation a lot more awkward.”

“Peter doesn’t,” Steve assured. “He didn’t know who you were until I told him. You probably didn’t introduce yourself when you two met. I can’t speak for other Parkers, though.”

Tony was about to say something in that overexaggerated outrage of his, but Rhodey cut him off once again. “Now with that out of the way, would you care to elaborate on that ‘I think I traumatized him’ comment? Because I think it’s important to know so we know how to proceed about this whole situation.” Whatever it was, Rhodey hoped it wasn’t too bad and the kid wouldn’t have nightmares for months to follow.

Tony was stared down by everybody. Hell, he felt like even Friday was staring him down!

“Okay, but in my defense, I wasn’t aware of the circumstances back then.”

“Spill.”

“As you know, he ate nothing yesterday.”

“Uh-huh.”

“So, after I left Barnes I went to his room for a little chat.”

“Oh no.”

“Shh! Let him speak.”

“And I might have threatened his friends’ lives to ensure his compliance and also might have thrown and then shoved a gun in his hands and tell him to shoot me if he wants it to end.” Tony didn’t meet anyone’s eyes. The ceiling looked pretty interesting in his opinion. “And I might have taken it a step further and grabbed his hand and pointed the gun at myself… and made him pull the trigger. I’m not saying I did any of those things. Just that I might have.”

“Jesus Christ, that kid’s gotta be messed up after that.”

“And I thought what I did was bad.”

“Tones, that was dangerous!”

“It was unloaded, and the safety was on!” Tony defended himself. “I think it was pretty obvious that it was only pretend. We don’t hurt kids! Besides, he didn’t want to do it. He held the gun like it was about to explode. Do you have any idea how many people wouldn’t hesitate to pull the trigger if given the chance?”

Clint frowned. “That doesn’t make it better! It might be obvious to you, but the kid’s never been in this kind of environment before. To him it wasn’t obvious, he probably thought you were serious.”

“But hey, we can give him that amnesia thingy and everything will be fine!” Tony proposed.

“No, we cannot,” Natasha shook her head.

“And why is that?”

She rolled her eyes. “Because he’s too young for that. It could even kill him. Which you would have known if you read the paper in the box.”

Okay, that’s one plan out of the window. “He likes Friday, and she likes him. Maybe we can use her as a therapy dog?” Tony offered. “Why are you all focusing on this all of the sudden?”

“Tony’s right, we have more important questions to discuss. Like if or when we’re going to tell him.”

Upon Steve’s suggestions, the team spent almost two hours debating pros and cons of telling Peter, going through many possible scenarios and the danger the knowledge posed to Peter. There was also question of Tony’s enemies. Many knew not to mess with him, but every so often, someone got cocky. That, of course, lead to their deaths.

The Black Order was completely wiped out, Ten Rings as well, Hydra’s been driven out of New York, but one could never be too careful with them. Bucky subconsciously held his metal arm while discussing them. There were several small groups and gangs that were not posing any threat to any of them. They knew to stay out of Tony’s way if they wanted to stay in business. 

At last, something that resembled a plan was born, with Clint as main coordinator and Friday one of key players. Step one: gain Peter’s trust and make themselves look as non-threatening as possible. Tony had to take responsibility and apologize for what he did earlier. If Peter responded well and if the time was right, Tony would tell him about his true parentage. Clint assured Tony that he would feel it when the right time came.

The rest of the plan after that was based on Peter’s reaction. The plan would be put to motion today when the dinner time came.

The meeting ended with Clint walking over to Tony, telling him all about the joys of fatherhood, Tony objecting that teenagers were difficult to deal with and Clint countering with telling him that at least he didn’t have to change the diapers.

“And your clothes.”

“What about them?”

“You’ve got to change your attire! You need to look the part. I think you could fit in some of mine—”

“Not a chance.”

The banter went back and forth until Natasha pointed out the time. If they wanted to be done with preparations with time to spare, they needed to move.

Bucky stared at the table, nodding to himself. There was a show on TV similar to this that he, Sam and Clint used to watch for some reason. “Tony Stark… you are the father.”

“Don’t you mean Stank?” Rhodey teased.

“Honeybear, I’ll kill you.”

Clint raised his hand. “I call dibs on the role of main uncle!”

Notes:

What a blast was the last chapter! You guys are amazing! If happiness could make people float, I would be in space already. If it could make things bloom, the whole house would look like a jungle. I went to sleep with my cheeks hurting because I kept smiling for the whole time. I'm so thankful for every single one of you.

Anyway, stage one of this fic is complete. You can only guess what lies ahead. And to give you a little teaser for next chapter…

How do you guys like awkward dinners?

Chapter 11

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Steve’s arrival signaled it was dinner time, but Peter couldn’t help but notice the lack of plate in his hands. The little calmness he managed to regain since morning was flung right out of the window.

“Come on, dinner’s ready,” Steve nodded to the hallway behind him. “You’re eating with us.” He watched as Peter slightly pulled himself away.

“Uh, if this is about yesterday, the-then I won’t do that again. I’ll eat, I promise.”

Steve let out soundless sigh. Of course, Peter would be fearful after such an experience. How did one coax a child into coming and without possibly making everything worse?

“No, no, it’s got nothing to do with that. We just thought you would like to get away from the same four walls for a little while. So, what do you say?”

Peter felt like he had no choice in the matter, despite Steve giving him friendly smile. He got up from the chair and awkwardly walked to the man. He was half-expecting that a pair of handcuffs would be snapped on his wrists. The bruise on his wrist he caused to himself began to fade, along with the rest. To Peter’s surprise, Steve walked out, motioning for him to follow.

The place was huge. Peter kept glancing around and rubbing the hem of his shirt between his fingers; an old habit he thought he outgrew already. There was no use in trying to escape from here, he would just get lost and make everything worse. Not to mention his friends’ lives were on the line. He’ll have to endure it. For them.

Steve’s voice broke Peter from his thoughts. “The doctor said if the cut on your forehead heals nicely, we can replace the bandage with one of those big, sticky band aids. We can check that after the dinner, what do you say? No more whole roll wrapped around your head.”

Peter’s stomach flipped. Not because he was glad the bandage will be gone, he got used to the feeling and didn’t know it was there most of the time. No, it was because in order to change it, they would have to get close. He didn’t have a problem with people getting close until today.

“Y-yeah, okay.” Because what else he could say?

The way Peter shifted in discomfort didn’t escape Steve’s eye. He honestly felt bad.

Giant space stretched in front of the two. The whole floor was bigger than Peter’s apartment! And there were actually several floors of this? Yeah, the escape was definitely impossible. People he’s never seen were sitting on nearby couches, stopping their debate once they noticed their presence. He also saw Natasha, Rhodey and Tony, now in casual outfit as well, a non-threatening one, milling around in the kitchen. On instinct, Peter stiffed.

“Hello, Peter,” one of the men stood up and walked towards him. Peter had to suppress the urge to take a step back. He felt like he knew that voice from somewhere. “How’s your shoulder feeling?”

It clicked together. The remark helped to jog his memory. “You were in the apartment,” Peter whispered, this time actually taking a step back. The voice wasn’t distorted by mask, but there was no denying it. This was the man that put him to sleep.

Clint momentarily froze but didn’t let it show. He wasn’t expecting Peter to remember it that easily. “I was. Sorry about that, you weren’t supposed to be awake for that,” he said sheepishly. “So, shoulder. Is it better? You didn’t aggravate it during that fall, did you?”

Peter was confused at the concern radiating from the man’s eyes. Because… why? It made no sense. “Uh, no? It… healed.”

“Good. I’m Clint, by the way.”

“I’m Peter,” he replied without thinking. “But I guess you already knew that.” Stupid manners.

Clint laughed. “Yes. I know it sounds a bit scary.”

Yeah, no shit was what flashed through Peter’s mind.

“That’s Bucky, by the way,” he pointed to the man with metal arm in an attempt to steer the conversation in different direction. Clint leaned in closer, lowering his voice. “I know he looks scary, but he’s actually a big softie. You don’t have that from me, though.”

Peter was unsure how to reply to that, so he just offered curt nod. He couldn’t help himself; his eyes shifted to Bucky curiously – specifically the arm. It moved like normal, flesh one. He wanted to get closer look on the mechanism behind it, but just walking up to the man and observe would be rude. And he remembered his position.

Tony never took his eyes of the boy. Wow, this kid was really his son. Whole living, breathing being. He’d never imagined himself in the role of a father for a very obvious reason - fear of turning out exactly like his own father. Maybe one day, with Pepper… And yet he still somehow managed to become a father without knowing.

First time Tony held a gun, he was five. First time he shot out of one was when he was six and was forced to shoot the first person at eleven. He wasn’t very affected since he grew up in this environment, to him, it was natural. A second nature, like breathing. But Peter grew up leading different lifestyle.

He was still unsure of what to do. Should he really tell him? Maybe he could just… observe from afar? He already messed up once, he didn’t want to repeat that. But he needed to make this right. Somehow.

“Okay, everybody sit down. Dinner’s ready,” Rhodey said as he put last pot on the table. Friday, who was taking a nap on her bed in the corner, perked up at the word ‘dinner’. She walked over to the table and sat on the floor next to where Peter was seated.

Some of the tension fell from the boy’s shoulders, a thing noticeable to everybody in the room. A plate was placed in front of Peter. “Thank you.” When others began to eat, one of Peter’s hands reached for the spoon, the other one disappeared under the table and petted the furry head.

“Uhm, this is so good,” Clint all but moaned, “I mean, I love takeout too, but man, I missed your cooking.”

Natasha noticed Peter throwing glances at her, as if he wanted to say something. “Something on your mind?” she asked casually.

Peter’s grip on the spoon tightened. “I just wanted to say sorry. For tasing you.” He could have asked Steve to rely the apology to her, but he preferred to do it in person. Even though she was scaring him. “You too,” he glanced at Rhodey, then lowered his gaze to the plate.

“All forgiven and forgotten,” she replied with a hint of a smile that turned into a smirk addressed to Tony when she was sure Peter wasn’t looking. See? Told you, it said. “I’m sorry too. I should’ve caught you. I mean before you fell,” she added when Peter’s lips pressed into thin line.

Nobody anticipated the atmosphere to be so thick you could cut it with a knife. The silence was suffocating.

Bucky was the first to break it. "I took out the trash.”

The looks everybody sent him. They all understood the implication. But Peter…

The silence was becoming unbearable for Peter. So, when they all looked at the other man -  Peter was pretty sure he was in his apartment too - he felt like they were waiting for some form of reaction from him. He needed to say something. “That’s nice. I try to help Mrs. Davis with cleaning too, so she doesn’t have that much work to do when she comes over.” Really, was it that unusual for that man to help with housework to grant such reaction?

To their relief, the implication went right over his head.

“That’s very nice of you,” Bucky said, and silence overtook the room once again.

Steve cleared his throat, throwing a look at Tony.

“Your turn. Apologize.”

“No. Not now, I’m not ready!”

“I believe Tony wanted to say something to you, Peter,” Steve said out loud.

“You’re dead, Rogers.”

Peter’s hand stilled under the table. Friday left him and it felt like betrayal. He threw tentative glances at the man. It seemed like forever and a few minutes ago at the same time since the whole gun situation. Before today, he only saw those on TV or when police officers walked by on the street. Today he was forced to hold one.

Tony took a deep breath. Better to get this over with and get rid of the guilty feeling that was present since he learned the news. “Right, uhm. I’m sorry for forcing you into uncomfortable situation earlier today. I went overboard, forgetting that you are just a child. I… didn’t mean it. So, yeah. I’m really, truly sorry.” How bizarre. Tony Stark, the most powerful man in New York, giving a sincere apology to someone.

Peter was pretty sure someone up there hated him. What kind of horrible thing he’d done in past life to deserve this?

He got an apology.

He couldn’t believe his ears. Wait, he should probably reply. “It’s… okay?” Smooth, Parker. Smooth. From what he caught from his peripheral vision, nobody believed him either. Gosh, was it too much to ask for earth to split open and swallow him whole? Friday returned, dropped something on his lap and looked up at him.

Peter looked at her, then on the thing she brought. It was some weird square made out of soft fabric, with stuffed smiling monkey head in the middle. Something you would find in baby’s crib.

“That’s one of her favorites,” Rhodey commented.

Tony noticed that the kid looked like he would love to bolt out of here. He threw helpless glances at the team.

Cue Clint to the rescue. “So, Peter, what do you like to do? I assume science?” He asked follow-up questions about robotics club and all the parts in the box next to his desk.

Peter got to explain his little projects – keeping his answers as short as he could, which went against his nature – but could tell that the adults present had almost no idea what he’s been taking about.

That was until Tony spoke up, advising use of different circuit board that operated on higher frequency. “Come on, I own tech company. You can’t expect me to not know anything about it.”

“He spends every second of his free time holed up in his lab. Sometimes we have to literally drag him out of there in entourage of protests,” Rhodey teased.

“Ouch, Honeybear. Ouch.”

Clint shot Tony a look, telling him now was his chance to lay foundation for their bond. So, Tony talked, asked, dragging Peter into a conversation. From what others observed and told him, the kid was actually a chatterbox. It was painfully obvious he was holding himself back.

But Tony was impressed. Even from those short answers, it was clear Peter was smart. There weren’t many people capable of keeping up with him in this field. Yet the kid managed that without breaking a sweat. Warm feeling began to spread through his chest, growing like a tree from tiny seed. Was that… pride? Yeah, it could be. It was obvious from who the kid got the brains.

“Nerds,” Clint drawled as he began to collect the dishes, along with others.

Peter looked around, realizing the dinner was over. He put his dished on a pile. “Can—" he cut himself off and began anew. “Do you need help with the dishes?” he asked. Peter always washed the dishes after himself. Who knew what kind of life would bloom his sink if he let it all to Mrs. Davis, and he always helped with cleaning when he still lived with Ben and May. One of the perks of mostly living alone, Peter assumed, was that you learn how to take care of yourself.

“It’s okay, you carry on… about that techy stuff you were talking about,” Clint took the dishes and walked to the kitchen. He dumped the dishes into the sink as pots were loaded into dishwasher. Could they have somebody to clean after them? Yes, they could. But dining and then cleaning together became a form of bonding activity for them.

They observed the two from the kitchen.

“They really are father and son,” Bucky said. The similarities were undeniable.

“You can’t deny that,” Steve replied while he dried his hands.

Natasha leaned forward on the counter. “But Peter’s still nervous. This battle is not over.” She paused. “Do my eyes deceive me, or am I seeing Tony smiling?” Her eyes were, indeed, not deceiving her. Tony was smiling in approval at Peter.

“It’s working,” Clint stage whispered. “He’s transforming. Do you think I should try again to persuade him to look the part? I think my chances have increased.”

 

“Are you really sure about this?”

“Yeah, yeah, just go!”

Tony found himself in front of Peter’s door. Okay. He could do this. He prepared an actual apology speech this time. He glanced at the things he was holding. He was assured that would help as well. He took a deep breath and unlocked the door.

He found Peter sitting on the bed, a bandage already changed from when Steve went to drop him off. He watched as Peter shifted in discomfort, clutching the blanket.

Okay, Stark, just like you practiced.

“Hi, Peter,” he plastered a smile on his face, inwardly wincing on how strained he sounded.

“Hi?” Peter replied, unsure of what to make of him.

And just like that, everything he wanted to say sizzled out of his head. Shit! The silence dragged on and he realized he had to say something, fast.

“I’ve brought you something,” he said and placed the things he was holding on the table.

“Thank you,” Peter said, but it came out more like a question.

Another beat of silence. “The dinner was… enjoyable,” Tony said, shifting on his feet.

“Yeah.”

Awkward tension filled the room, neither of them knowing what to do. Yeah, they weren't going to make more progress today.

“Okay. I’m… going then.”

Peter got up after Tony left, looking at the table. In front of him laid a plate with cookies and a glass of milk. Warm milk. What was he, a baby?

Only one thought was present in his head.

“What the hell?”

 

When Tony arrived back to others, he made a show to place his hand on the wall for support.

“How did it go?” Rhodey asked. But before Tony could open his mouth, Pepper's voice came from behind him.

“Hey, sorry I’m late. I got held up at work and the traffic was terrible,” she walked to Tony, pressing quick kiss on his cheek. “Anything interesting happened today? I saw the meeting was called.”

Oh shit. He forgot to tell Pepper.

“Well…” He spilled. He just hoped that…

“Anthony Edward Stark!” Oh no. Here came the scolding of his life. “You did what!?”

 

Notes:

I randomly reread one of the chapters and found a mistake (it's fixed now). Whoops. English is my second language (or third? Does it count as third if you kinda picked up another language by default since birth because it’s so similar to your own? Eh, I’m gonna say English is my second.) So, if you see a mistake that slipped past editing, sorry.

I hope you enjoyed this. And don’t forget to drink water. (and maybe leave a comment. I love those...)

Chapter 12

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

There was a sound. Strange sound. Like knocking but… through water. Peter buried most his face in the pillow without opening his eyes to block it out.

“Peter, wake up.”

Peter made a sound in the back of his throat and hid his whole face to escape the noise and light.

“Come on, wake up. Breakfast is on the table.”

“No.” Peter’s protests were muffled by the pillow. “Too early.” There was silence and Peter thought he made Steve leave, already drifting back to sleep.

“You leave me no choice then. Friday.”

The mattress dipped in several places around the teen and wet nose pressed against his neck, nudging Peter’s face up. Few licks had the desired effect. Peter attempted to hide under the blanket. Friday didn’t let him and successfully managed to roll him off the bed.

“Okay, okay. I’m up. I’m up,” Peter pushed himself upwards after his sleepy pleas were no help to stop the dog. He had to admit, being woken up like this wasn’t so bad. Well, except the fall. But that didn’t erase the usual crankiness after waking up or the question why he was woken up so early in the morning. And according to his bleary eyes and biological clock, it was early.

“Mornin’ Mr. Rogers,” Peter greeted the man, wondering how he could be awake at this time. That should be illegal in his humble opinion. Friday jumped off the bed and began to pull Peter’s pant leg. “Yeah, I know,” he sighed while getting up.

“She really likes you. That doesn’t happen very often, you should be honored,” Steve joked, but it was true. It was probably because there were many people with bad intentions in the business and dogs were known to sense bad people, so…

Peter hummed. “I should get changed.”

“No need. We eat breakfast in pajamas on some days.”

Peter didn’t need to be told twice. Maybe he could go back to sleep after breakfast. “Why aren’t you in yours?”

“I went for a run with her.” Steve almost let out a laugh at the face Peter was making at him, his eyes barely opened. Why would you do something like that so early? “Then I took a shower and made breakfast.”

“At what time did you wake up?”

“Around five. Early bird gets the worm.”

“And early worm gets eaten. Good morning,” Peter greeted other occupants when they entered the room, relieved that everybody was indeed in their pajamas. Clint and Bucky were already eating, choking on the food at Peter’s comment.

A woman that looked familiar was sitting next to Natasha at the counter, both of them with mugs in their hands. The familiar woman was looking him up and down, giving him small smile. Without thinking, Peter gave her a tiny one as well while he was blinking his eyes to get rid of some of the blurriness and holy shit, was that Pepper Potts?

“Wow. Someone’s not a morning person, huh?” Clint asked.

“There was a reason why I took afternoon courses.”

“Fair.”

“And here comes another not-morning person,” Bucky said as a very sleepy Tony Stark walked into the room, looking like he just rolled out of the bed.

Tony shot the man nasty look. “Don’t talk to me unless you have coffee.” A mug was pressed into his hands. “You’re a lifesaver, Pep,” he kissed her cheek.

“I know. You should be glad that I’m even giving you one.”

Tony froze at her tone. “I’m sorry. Please, don’t yell at me again,” he rushed out, almost curling in on himself.

So, Peter’s eyes were not deceiving him. It was Pepper Pots, CEO of SI, which stood for… Stark Industries. A company that used to make weapons and now is focusing on green energy, technological and some medical research among other things. The products were always high quality.

The man’s last name was Stark. He said he owned tech company. Peter’s tired brain connected the dots. He wondered if Ms. Potts knew what kind of people she’s hanging out with. But given his presence here, she probably did. By the looks of it, the two were close.

Getting an internship at SI was like a dream for most of college students. Oh. Well, it appeared like Peter will have to look for work opportunities elsewhere once he’s done with high school… and all of this mess.

If he was more awake, he would definitely freak out. At this point, a purple polar bear riding a unicycle while juggling chainsaws could make an appearance and he wouldn't have cared less. He just wanted to sleep!

“They really look alike, don’t they?”

“The resemblance is uncanny,” Pepper replied, not taking her eyes off of her fiancé and the boy. Peter’s hair stood in every direction, rivaling Tony’s bedhead. He basically looked like the man’s mini-me. They even moved in similar fashion and synchronized their yawns. Her mind wandered back to yesterday’s conversation… after the yell-down of the century and Tony looking on the ground in shame.

“So, you have a child. And you knew…”

“Since this morning.”

There were quite a handful of claims that Tony was a father to some child. The reason was mostly money. The claims were easily dismissed with a quick DNA test, but Tony even double-checked this one and it still came out positive. With Tony’s past, she knew there was a possibility of a child. Pepper had accepted that, along with everything about Tony.

Tony told her everything from the beginning, even told her how smart the kid was. And after another round of deserved scolding for what he did, Pepper made up her mind. “I want to meet him.” And that was how the pajama breakfast day was moved from Saturday to this morning.

“An apple doesn’t fall far away from the tree. He looks like a good kid.”

“He is,” Natasha nodded. “But stubborn too. He made up his mind about escaping on first day and went through with it. Twice.”

Pepper chuckled. “Yeah, that’s definitely Tony’s trait.” A conversation at the table caught her attention.

“I don’t understand how you wake up for school then.”

“A student in bed will remain in bed until acted upon by a large enough panic. Newton’s lesser known fourth law. So, yeah. The realization of being late for school kinda makes me move,” Peter mumbled, resting his head on his hand. What would happen if he let his head bang on the table and fell asleep right here?

“Coffee is the key to wake up properly.”

“Have you seen yourself in the mirror?” And he just insulted the man that threatened him. Again, he didn’t care.

“Don’t get snarky with me. And you’re the one to talk. I’m pretty sure your hair defies the laws of gravity.”

Pepper glanced at the time. She had a meeting at ten and if she wanted to make it on time, she needed to move. She would love to watch the interaction of the two to get more detailed picture of how they interact.

Will this situation make Tony overcome his fears?

 

Peter was deep in thought. He'd tried to think about what happened at the dinner, but fell asleep after he ate the cookies, the stress catching up to him. He thought it was only a one-time thing, as a part of the apology. That was until it repeated at breakfast and lunch. No matter how much he thought about it, Peter couldn’t find a reason for them to do this.

From the day he woke up in that lake house, there was a routine. Routine was safe and now the routine was gone. One moment he's mostly left alone, the other one they talk to him like Peter wasn’t a hostage held here against his will.

He couldn’t wrap his head around why they were being nice so much to him all of a sudden. Was it some form of manipulation? Mind games? His random internet knowledge supplied the words Stockholm syndrome.

But on the other side, they were relatively nice to him from the beginning. He got food regularly, had privacy, was left unrestrained and even provided with entertainment, not to mention that aside from the threats and being without the dinner one time, there were no repercussions for his failed escape attempts. Peter was pretty sure that this was not how hostages were normally treated.

Two knocks on the door made his head turn. Both Steve and Natasha knocked three times. Who was this?

Tony stood in the doorway, watching as the kid watched him, still wary, but not cowering in fear anymore. He still remained unsure whether he should tell him about their connection or not. Stark men were made of iron and Tony felt like he was at full capacity with people he let close.

“We’re going on a little field trip,” Tony said, an unvoiced order to follow him understood as Peter got up.

“Where to?”

“You’ll see.”

They walked through the maze of corridors until they reached specific door. Tony entered the code, pushed it open and revealed his lab. If the words were no good…

“Woah.”

Tony watched as Peter looked around the space with awe written all over his face. Understandable, since school labs were nothing compared to this one. All kinds of the latest equipment, some modified by the man himself were placed around the room, and those were only the visible ones. The drawers hid some gems as well.

“Pretty cool, huh?”

“Yeah,” Peter breathed out. Still looking around, he took a step further into the lab.

Bingo!

“Come over here,” Tony motioned to one of the tables. He waited for the boy to approach and look at the lone object placed on top of the table.

Peter’s head tilted slightly to the side on its own before he looked up at Mr. Stark, not understanding why his taser was here. He thought it was tossed into recycle bin after he left the med-bay.

“You see, you got me thinking,” Tony began, pointing to the thing. “This is pretty good idea. Without the brush, the body of this specific toothbrush fits in the hand and can be nicely concealed. And you made it into a taser powerful enough to put someone of Steve’s size on the ground. True, there were several flaws from what I heard..”

Tony glanced at the boy, seeing that he waited for him to get to the point. “But if done correctly and all of the bugs removed, this could be manufactured and help innocent ladies protect themselves when walking the streets.”

“Yeah,” Peter said slowly. Something pulled at his T-shirt from behind, making him yelp and jump. He saw a metallic arm retreating, followed by a series of beeps. “What?” A robot. How did it sneak up on him?

“No, Dum-E, leave the kid alone. Go back to your corner. Just don’t make too much of a mess or I’ll turn you into scrap metal.” It was a threat Tony used often, but never went through with it. The robot beeped again. “I don’t care! Go!”

Peter watched as the robot left. What did he just witness?

“So, what do you say?” Tony resumed speaking as if nothing happened. “Do you want to try and redo it?”

Peter was skeptic. “Are you sure you just don’t want to use it as a weapon for your illegal activities?”

“Did you forget I own a tech company? That is legit business. I might do some questionable things on the side, but we don’t kill civilians.” Unless they happen to stumble on something they weren’t supposed to see. “Doesn’t mean that other people out there share the same sentiment.”

Brief pause, then Tony continued. “You proved that you’re smart. I’m letting you play around in my ultra-modern lab and if something good can come out of it, then why not to go through with it?” New York can be dangerous. Everyone knew that.

Peter didn’t have to say anything before Tony knew he won. The gleam in the kid’s eyes told him everything he needed to know. 

“Okay.”

“Great. Most of the needed tools are in the drawers there, the rest is over there, and some spare parts are in those cabinets,” he pointed to the wall lined with regals and storage spaces. “Just don’t test it on me when you’re done.” He retreated to his own table and pulled out his latest project.

For the following hours, Tony kept glancing at the kid when he was sure it was safe. Which was most of the time, since the boy looked like a toddler in candy shop. At some point, he relaxed and stopped hiding the utter delight on his face as he dug through the parts. It was enough to make Tony smile a little. He knew that what he had here was better than some scraps from old electronics Peter had at home.

His phone started ringing. “Love of my life?”

“Trying to sweettalk me into not being mad at you for what you did?”

“…maybe?”

Pepper let out amused huff. “I’m home. Everybody’s ready for dinner, so, up you get.”

The call ended. “She hung up on me,” Tony huffed. “Well, playtime’s over. We’ve been summoned.”

“Oh.”

Yeah, Tony could tell the kid was reluctant to leave and he didn’t blame him. If he was in such an amazing lab for the first time in his life, he wouldn’t want to leave either.

“I know, but if we’re late, Pepper will yell at me and she’s scary when she’s yelling. We can… come back here sometimes and you can finish it.”

The smile Peter gave him did something to Tony’s chest. “Thank you, Mr. Stark.”

The lab door closed behind them and they headed back upstairs. The ringtone from before could be heard again before Tony accepted yet another call.

“The dinner is ready and Pepper’s here, so get your ass over here. Also, you wouldn’t happen to have the kid with you, would you?”

Tony rolled his eyes and kept them pointed at the ceiling. “Actually, Rhodey, I would. Pep told me and we’re already on the way.”

Big, opened window on the wall in front of them caught Peter’s attention. It was closed when they went to the lab. For some reason, his sixth sense made him feel uneasy.

Sudden ray of light hit Peter’s eyes. He tried to locate what could be the cause of the reflection. He spotted a person on the roof of the opposite building handling something long. “What?” he mumbled to himself. Mr. Stark, still on the phone and looking at the ceiling, didn’t seem to notice the person up there yet. The light reflected again. Peter recognized what was going on when the person took a stance.

That was gun. Very long gun. And it was aiming right at them through the opened window, tiny red dot appearing and disappearing on Tony’s chest. The man still didn’t notice.

“Mr. Stark?” Peter said, earning himself a glance. His sixth sense flared. “Mr. Stark, watch out!” Peter yelled and shoved the man out of the way.

A shot rang out.

Notes:

Sorry not sorry for the cliffhanger.

And now, I’ll proceed with asking myself every four hours whether it’s Tuesday yet. Bye~

Chapter 13

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

“Mr. Stark, watch out!”

Tony was thrown off balance as something collided with his body. Landing on the ground, a bullet swished past his head. With the lifestyle he's been leading, it took him exactly a millisecond to realize what was going on.

“Tony? Tony! What’s happening?” came from the phone that slipped from his grasp. “We heard gunshot.”

Tony ignored his friends calls. His instincts kicked in, he was about to roll into safety… but he stopped himself.

Because he wasn’t alone.

With one hand, Tony grabbed the phone and swiftly threw himself over his son’s upper body, shielding and dragging him away as another bullet buried into the floor above their heads, too close for Tony’s liking. With the shot, he felt Peter flinch. He also felt that he was trying to stand up.

“Come on, cooperate with me here a little, move! Head down, butt too,” he told Peter, who weakly nodded, got his arms under himself and began crawling to the same direction. Tony put the phone closer to his face. “We’ve got a shooter on the roof. We are on third floor.”

The bullets kept raining down on them, the kid flinching and yelping every time. The only thing protecting them was the angle between the shooter and the window. All they needed to do was to crawl a little further and then they would be out of range. “That’s it, you’re doing great. Just like that. Keep it up,” he kept muttering words of encouragement.

Tony reached for the handle of nearby door. “Don’t stand up. Any higher and you get hit, crawl.” He saw Peter nod.

“We’re on our way.”

Tony didn’t bother to reply, instead he turned to the trembling boy that huddled himself in the corner once they got to safety. He had to make a choice - stay and protect, or leave and protect? If he stayed, he could essentially turn into a sitting duck, putting them both in danger. If he left, that would take the attention of the attacker solely on him. Both of those could easily backfire, he was aware.

Tony made the decision.

“Okay, listen up. You stay here and don’t leave until some of us come get you.” For all he knew, there could be more people going after him, but Peter didn’t need to know that. “The windows are bulletproof but stay away from them.” As if to prove the point, a bullet hit the window, leaving a spiderweb crack when Tony crawled on all fours towards nearby table and pulled a gun from underneath it.

Peter’s heart hammered in his ribcage, picking up the speed even more when he saw the man move back towards the door. “Wait, you can’t go back there, that’s dangerous!” Straight up insane. A death wish, he wanted to add.

“This is not the first time I’ve been shot at, kid. Stay in that corner and don’t. Move,” Tony said, got into low crouch and sprinted out of the room, shutting the door behind him with so much force Peter couldn’t help but flinch again. The gun from outside fired shot after shot. Peter felt sick. The only comfort was that he heard the sound of running after the crack silenced.

But now he was alone.

Peter curled into as small ball as he could, like he was trying to become one with the wall. It was safe here, he reminded himself. To his right was the wall with windows, to his left the wall with the door. He looked around the room, noticing that this was some kind of storage room. There was a lone desk with a chair and metal drawers lining the wall opposite the two windows.

The commotion outside went on. He drew in shaky breath, the situation sinking in. Someone just tried to kill Mr. Stark. Someone shot at him. At them! Both of them!  Who knew if Peter would be the next target if the attacker succeeded.

His mind took him back in time when he and Ben used to crawl around the apartment like soldiers on their stomachs. Back then it was just an innocent game. This was real.

More shots and then silence.

 

“Got him!” Clint called out, satisfied. With Natasha and Bucky on one side and Steve, Rhodey and Tony on the other distracting the sniper, he managed to get a clear shot.

“Keep your eyes open, there could be more lurking around,” Natasha replied while she walked towards the spot where the body laid, her eyes scanning the area. Bucky watched her back, both of them assessing the situation. The assailant had nowhere to hide up here. He messed up from the beginning. Most definitely an amateur. A hole was drilled between his unseeing, half-lidded eyes, a sign there was no need to check for pulse.

He was dead. 

Shouts came from below, signaling that Happy and his men were on the case already. They could leave the rest to them.

“Let’s head back inside.”

“Oh, Tony,” Pepper walked over to the man when he entered the dining room. “Are you okay? You’re—”

“Yeah, I’m fine, don’t worry,” he cut her off, giving her quick hug and kiss.

Happy was the last one to arrive. “What the hell was that?” he asked Tony.

“Someone wanted my head,” he shrugged like it was happening every other day.

Rhodey frowned. “How did the guy managed to shoot at you? I thought all the windows were bulletproof.”

“They are. One of the windows was opened for some reason. And unless the person set it up all beforehand and risked being spotted by someone, there had to be at least two.” They found one mole here recently. Maybe that’s what made others act. “Put the whole area on lockdown. Nobody enters or leaves.”

Happy took in all the information. “I’ll check the systems. If there are two, we will find the other one.” Taking into consideration that not many people had access to this part of the building, there were only so many people that could’ve opened that window.

“Go.”

Rhodey was the first one to speak. “That was a close one.”

Tony snorted. “Tell me about it. I was on the phone with you, distracted, and the next thing I know is that we’re being shot at. If the kid hadn’t pushed me out of the way—” he froze. He forgot. Shit. Others seemed to catch on too. “The kid!” Tony yelled, already rushing back to the room where he left Peter. He could tell the team was following.

“Please, tell me he’s alright,” Steve’s voice came from behind him.

“He was when I left him.”

A rare look of worry crossed Natasha's face. “Let’s hope it stayed that way.”

“Why did you leave him alone in the first place?!”

“To take the attention off him!”

Please, don’t let there be two, please, don’t let there be two… With the possibility of multiple attackers… the thought of the kid getting hurt made his chest feel weird. Especially if he would be the reason for that. The door hiding the boy came in view and Tony picked up the pace.

“Uh, Tones, wait. You have a bit of b—”

Tony ignored his best friend as he pushed the door open, scanning the room. Relived sigh escaped past his lips when his eyes landed on the boy, curled exactly where Tony told him to be. “Thank God you’re okay.”

Peter’s head shot up, breath caught in his throat, but relaxed right after when Tony appeared in the doorway. Peter got up on his shaky feet, using the wall for support. Mr. Stark was alive. That was good. He didn’t think he would be able to live with the knowledge that another person died because of him. Yeah, the foster people and the police told him in wasn’t his fault, but he knew. Because it happened when they’d gone to pick him up from school, then to the mall, then to see the movie.

He watched the man step further into the room, throwing glances at him and at the crack in the glass. Yeah, Peter was okay. But…

“But you’re not!” Peter squeaked. The man gave him confused look. With shaky hands, Peter pointed to his shoulder. “You’re bleeding! Uh, we-we need to stop the bleeding. Okay. Uhm, a rag… or something. You have guns hidden around, so you should have first-aid kits hidden around too, right? And… water… maybe? God, I don’t know!”

Tony slid his gaze from the fretting boy that seemingly couldn’t decide whether he should step closer to him or ran out of the room for help to the shoulder the teen pointed at. There was a tiny rip on the sleeve, the fabric around the rip coated in red. Huh. He didn’t even feel that. When did that happen? Come to think of it, both Pepper and Rhodey were trying to tell him something. He moved his arm to get better look.

“Don’t move it!” Peter choked out and actually took a step closer. His back was facing the door now, not noticing the others peeking into the room. “Worry about yourself, not me!”

“I can do both. I’m good at multitasking,” Tony said without thinking. “It’s just a scratch. Look, it even stopped bleeding already. No need for a surgery,” he joked. He allowed Peter to lean in closer to inspect the wound. He expected the boy to calm down.

He should have known better.

“Yeah, but you still could’ve died! I noticed this flash of light and there was someone on the roof and you were distracted and—”

Okay, he was most definitely a chatterbox. Tony didn’t think Peter ever said that much in his presence. Tony’s eyes darted between his distressed kid in front of him and the group watching them from the doorway.

“—and I’m so sorry I pushed you, but—”

Tony raised his arms, not sure what to do with them. Should he place them on Peter’s shoulders to stop him from moving so wildly? Or should he tap his face lightly to snap him out of it?

Clint waved his hand to get his attention. The kid kept on rambling, not noticing Tony looking over his head.“ Hug him,” Clint mouthed. The movement of his lips was accompanied by overexaggerated air-hugging. “Hug him,” he mouthed again.

Tony shot him a glare. No, we’re not there yet. Others shot him one as well. Do it! He was outnumbered.

“Here goes nothing,” the man thought and wrapped his arms around his son’s shoulders, pulling him close. Tony placed his chin on top of Peter’s head, one of his hands finding its way to the brown curls on the back of his head. The kid stiffened and fell silent. Tony took it as a chance to speak.

“I’m alive, see? You saved my life. I’m talking to you right now because you acted. You could’ve chosen to do nothing, yet you acted anyway,” Tony spoke softly.

Peter froze when Mr. Stark pulled him close, but the man's heartbeat was making him relax. When was the last time someone hugged him like this? Back when Ben and May were still alive? Yeah, that seemed about right. It was the fateful morning he left for school. His parents… weren’t very… affectionate people. At least not with him.

“I’m not mad that you shoved me,” Tony continued, “I’m glad that you did it. Otherwise, I would be in a—” he cut himself off. The kid didn’t need a description of what could have been.

The last of the tension washed away from Peter’s body with deep exhale. He knew he shouldn’t do the next thing, but he couldn’t help himself. He knew it was supposed to be wrong, but it felt somehow right. Maybe it was just the stress taking over, who knew? Leaning into the hug, Peter wrapped his own arms around Tony’s torso. Sheesh, how desperate, how touch starved he was to accept any kind of physical affection from this man?

“I owe you my life. In return, you can ask for anything you want. I don’t like being indebted to people,” Tony offered. The hug felt nice. And somehow, it felt like this kid that was more than half-a-head shorter than him belonged in his arms. He didn’t want to let go.

“Anything?” Peter asked in small voice.

“Except letting you go right now, of course.”

Oh. Well, it was worth a shot. Well... since that wasn’t an option, he could get a bit selfish. “Lab time tomorrow?”

Chuckle bubbled in Tony’s chest. “Really? You can ask for anything in the world and you ask for this? You’re an odd one, but okay. Lab time tomorrow.”

“Thank you.”

Geez, this kid. Tony didn’t notice when soft smile appeared on his face. He did, however, notice that Pepper had her hand over her heart and soft look in her eyes. And then there were others, grinning at him like they were a bunch of preschoolers. Tony was sure that if Sam was here, he would be giving him shit-eating grin too. Tony glared. Rhodey began to quietly usher them out of the room so they wouldn’t startle Peter.

Tony blinked at him in gratitude and patted the teen’s shoulder twice. Peter understood the non-verbal gesture and let go at the same time as Tony did. He’d never admit it, but he missed the contact already. “Alright, the moment of sentiment is over. Let’s go eat, I’m starving.” He ignored the look Pepper threw at him over her shoulder.

Tony threw his arm over Peter’s shoulders, pleased that the teen didn’t flinch or froze, and led him out of the room. That was progress.

Peter tripped a little upon seeing the people in the hallway. They definitely heard the whole exchange. Including his rambling. His cheeks dusted pink in embarrassment. Luckily, nobody teased him for it.

“What you did was brave,” Steve praised as the group walked toward the dining room.

Peter lowered his head shyly, tiny smile pulling on his lips as Tony squeezed his shoulder again. He was just doing the right thing.

The adrenaline wore off. And then it hit him. He could have died. He could have died! Holy shit, that was crazy! He needed to sit down, before he- Yeah, with no adrenaline in his body anymore, his knees buckled and he began to fall forward.

Under different circumstances, Peter would find it funny that one moment everything’s normal, and the next one he’s falling over like a plank, the cheerful chatter around him abruptly changing into panicked calling of his name before he could faceplant into the ground and darkness took him.

Okay, maybe he did find the abrupt chaos a little bit funny, but nobody would ever know.

Notes:

Okay, no serious injury in this one, but who’s saying that something won’t come up in the future? ;)

Every single one of you is appreciated! I love you guys so much!

Chapter 14

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

“What are you reading?” Clint asked, not waiting for an answer as he yanked the tablet from Tony’s hands.

It was few minutes past eleven. Peter was taken to his room an hour and half ago, with Friday’s usual entourage, where a small surprise was waiting for him. When the boy saw the doggy door installed to his room, he didn’t understand at first, but, though he tried to hide it, his face lit up when Tony explained that since Friday liked him, she could come and visit him any time she felt like it.

And since Tony returned, he hadn’t let go of the tablet.

“Is,” Clint's face twisted in confusion looked from the screen to the very annoyed man, “is this Wiki-How?” Clint plopped on the couch between Bucky and Steve. The two leaned in to see the screen as well. “How to be a good parent. How to deal with teenagers as a single parent. How to bond with your teenage son,” he read out loud as he switched between the open tabs. “Really? You’re reading Wiki-How articles on how to be a parent when you could just ask me? A master in the field?”

“He’s that desperate,” Natasha teased.

Tony retrieved the tablet with a scoff and returned to his seat.

“Does this mean we’re keeping him?” Bucky’s head tilted slightly to the side. All eyes turned to Tony.

“You’re making it sound like he’s stray cat or something.” Tony ran his hand through his hair. “I- yes. Or maybe? I don’t know,” he sighed in frustration, throwing his head back. “I mean, have you seen him? Despite what I did to him, he saved my life and then practically melted into the hug.”

“And then collapsed,” Clint quipped. 

“And almost have us a heart attack,” Rhodey added as well. 

Pepper sat down next to him, placing her hand on his knee. Tony placed his own hand over hers. “Take a deep breath. It will be all right, we’ll figure it out.” She gave her fiancé a kind smile. The way he behaved around the boy… it suited him when he showed his soft side.

“Today, we came this close to death,” Tony raised his other hand, fingers barely touching for emphasis. “I can’t explain, but the thought of something happening to him creates this… weird feeling in my chest.”

“That’s worry. Parental worry,” Clint supplied.

“Can you make it go away?”

“Nope.”

Damn. “He could ask for anything and he asked for lab time! Like, come on! I just,” Tony gestured vaguely with his hands before resting his back against the couch. “He doesn’t have a bad bone in his body. He’s too kind and innocent for this world. Our world. You know how things work here.”

“So, you’re still deciding whether to tell him or not?” Rhodey asked.

“I don’t know,” Tony admitted. “I feel like I could protect him the best and put him in danger the most at the same time. And from the way he reacted around guns so far, which was my fault, I admit, self-defense is out of the way.” His head met the back of the couch. This was a long day. Maybe he’ll go to bed in reasonable time today.

“Actually,” Bucky began hesitantly, turning all the attention on him. “I might have just the idea,” he finished with knowing smile.

 

“Here.”

Peter caught a bundle of clothes, looking at Steve with confused eyes.

“Put it on and come out when you’re done,” he said and closed the door.

Peter stood in silence for a brief moment. “Do you know what this is about?” he asked Friday who was currently making her way towards him, sniffing the bundle. She gave him her perfectly mastered head-tilt of confusion. “I guess that means no.”

To be honest, he was expecting Mr. Stark to come and take him to the lab. But... why was he given gym clothes? That made no sense.

Wait... 

Peter knew he’d said he’ll take up running after this was all over, but he really hoped they won’t make him. No, that wouldn’t make any sense either; they had no idea he said that. He sighed. “Well, better not to keep him waiting.” Peter reached for the bottom of his shirt to pull it over his head before he stopped and turned to the dog watching him. “Do you mind?” Friday blinked at him. “Okay,” Peter gathered the clothes and went to the bathroom.

After he changed, Steve led him to vast room lined with various equipment. Peter recognized the purpose of the room immediately.

No.

No.

“No, not the gym,” his voice was on the edge of whine. Why? This was torture. What did he do to deserve this? That was his least favorite subject in school, mostly because he wasn’t the most athletic of his classmates, but also because of…

“What’s wrong with gym?” Bucky walked over, dressed for exercise as well.

“Please, tell me we won’t be playing dodgeball.” The game on its own wasn’t that bad; but add Flash and his goons on the opposite team and you have a recipe for disaster.

Bucky laughed and patted him on the shoulder. “No, no dodgeball. The events from yesterday got us thinking, and we reached a conclusion that you could benefit from some self-defense lessons,” he explained as he led the teen further into the open space. “It’s a useful skill to have.”

And there goes another thing on the list of weirdness of Peter’s whole predicament. He was pretty sure you don’t teach your hostages how to fight. But… yeah, Peter’s not the most threatening or dangerous individual over here – with or without the skills to defend himself. No matter how much he thought about it, he couldn’t wrap his head around it.

And boy, did he think about everything yesterday. The last thing he remembered was that the floor was approaching quite fast towards his face, there were some panicked shouting too, and the next thing he knew, he found himself lying on the couch with several worried faces hovering over him, silently watching his every move.

“Uhm?” he asked, which seemed to snap the adults out of their state.

“Are you okay? Did you hurt yourself? You didn’t bang your head, did you? I didn’t notice if you did, I was too busy catching you,” Mr. Stark talked without taking a break for breathing.

They had dinner after that, everyone constantly watched him like he was some fragile thing that was about to break, asked him if he was feeling alright and if he needed anything. His glass was refilled right after Peter set it down. It almost felt like they were… babying him, like a bunch of mother hens. Ms. Potts even petted his hair and gave him kind smile. Peter liked that gesture if he was being honest. She even shooed away a man that was studying him with narrowed eyes. Happy, she called him.

In Peter’s opinion, the man didn’t live up to his name.

But one thought crossed his mind once he was alone. What if he wasn’t developing Stockholm syndrome, but they were developing the opposite of Stockholm syndrome. He knew there was a name for that but couldn’t remember.

Would that logically explain some things? Perhaps. If that was the case, his chances of being set free increased. But what did he do to gain their sympathy?

Maybe Peter should just give up on trying to make sense of things and stop thinking altogether.

“Al-right?” Peter drawled, pretty sure his face will remain twisted with confusion once he’ll be out of here.

“All right!” Bucky exclaimed, ignoring Peter’s confusion. “First, warm-up.”

Peter found it awkward, exercising with the two men, but went along with it. It wasn’t as bad as his classes in school. It actually went easier when he was told how to do things correctly. After that, they went over some basic stances and moves. Peter watched as Bucky and Steve demonstrated short fight, looking like they were dancing.

“Okay, I get it, I’m weak. No need to flex on me like that,” Peter thought.

And then came Peter’s turn to put the theory to practice.

And of course, Natasha chose that moment to walk in as well. “Okay, show me what you got.”

Was she looking at him? Peter checked both his sides to make sure she wasn’t addressing one of the men in case they were standing behind him. There was no one. “Me?” he pointed to his chest.

“Who else?”

Yeah, not a chance. “No, thank you.”

“No what?”

“I’m not gonna fight you.”

Natasha took a step forward. “Why? Because I’m a woman?”

Peter’s brows furrowed. “No, because you’re scary!” Wasn’t that obvious? Natasha looked like she meant business and wouldn’t hold back. She could shake hands with MJ.

“You know, he’s got a point,” Steve chuckled.

“Then you’ll take his place,” Natasha shrugged and Steve’s smile froze.

“What?”

“You heard me. I didn’t get here just to walk back without some exercise. And you’ll put up better fight than a begginer. Barnes can handle him alone.”

Steve sighed as he walked towards her, head hung low. 

“Now watch. You can learn something from them.”

Peter gaped at the speed Natasha moved around. Yes, Steve had physical advantage, but Natasha was more agile and was successfully using his own strength against him. When it was Steve and Bucky, it was more strength against strength. “How can she move like that?”

Bucky shrugged. “Let’s get to our own practice, shall we?”

And that’s how was another half an hour spent. The two pairs were fighting, one more leniently, the other one more furiously. Yet Natasha somehow still managed to watch Peter’s moves and correcting his mistakes before Bucky could.

 

Tony had no idea what the hell he had walked into. Well, training, obviously, but he wasn’t expecting to see Peter with his arms wrapped around Barnes’ torso, straining to pick the man up for some reason. Natasha and Steve were sipping on cooled water in the corner, watching Peter’s efforts in amusement and giving occasional shout of encouragement.

“Put your back into it!”

“You can do it!"

Bucky glanced down with a chuckle. “You’re adorable.”

“Not. Adorable.” Peter, still straining, glanced up to give the man brief angry look, but judging by the widening of Bucky’s smile, he guessed he failed miserably.

“Like a puppy,” Bucky patted top of the boy’s head. “Don’t worry, I’ll protect you.”

“What are they doing?” Tony asked the resting duo, not taking his eyes off the scene.

“For extra motivation, Bucky offered Peter that he can take a closer look at his arm if he manages to pick him up. That’s another thing you two share – Peter has that look in his eyes when he’s curious about a piece of technology,” Steve said.

“They’ve been at it for several minutes already. Frankly, it’s fun to watch. He’s really determined,” Natasha nodded to herself with a smile.

Peter shifted his feet, planting them firmly on the mat. “Not! Adorable!” Grunting Peter put all of his remaining strength into the attempt. It was now or never. He felt Bucky’s weight shift, accompanied by surprised sound coming from his mouth. He did it!

Unfortunately, he didn’t have much time to celebrate before his strength ran out, and together with unbalanced Bucky toppled on the mat.

Panting, Peter turned himself on his stomach. “I’m okay.”

“Good job. You win,” Bucky sat up. “You know, Steve used to be like you when he was your age – like a twig with no real strength or muscle. He was a 90-pound asthmatic and look at him now. That can be rectified with some training once you hit that growth sprout.” Steve threw him dirty look. Bucky smirked at him.

“Asthma bros,” Peter mumbled against the mat. 

“Wait, you’ve got asthma?” Bucky asked.

Peter waved his hand without looking up. “It’s been a while. I think it’s gone now.”

Bucky was sure others heard too, but he made mental note to remind Tony to get an emergency inhaler. Just in case. “Now, up you get. Your da—” the three threw him panicked looks, making him change the word in last moment, “y time for lab is here, I believe.” Bucky raised his arms in surrender at the looks he got. Crisis averted. Even if the sentence was wrong.

“Ugh, not up. Let me become one with this mat,” came Peter’s muffled response.

Natasha spoke loudly just enough for the two men next to her to hear. “Drama queen like his father.”

“You broke him!” Tony pointed to the teen with his whole hand, loud enough for everybody. “We were supposed to have fun time in lab! But I guess if you’re too tired…”

Clint mentioned this trick, but said it mostly worked on smaller kids. Looks like it worked on certain teenagers too. Peter seemed to only now notice his presence. He propped himself up on his forearms, looking eager.

“I think I caught second wind,” he said, still sounding a little winded.

“Good,” Tony clapped his hands together, "but lunch first. Go change. Steve, you’re relieved from cooking duty, I already ordered take-out. You have about twenty minutes before it arrives.”

 

With Peter’s decision from earlier, he decided not to think about how Mr. Stark knew his favorite Thai food. No, Peter decided to focus on assembling the parts in front of him. Almost done.

Tony grew more agitated by second. No matter what he did, he couldn’t seem to reach that damned wire! His hand couldn’t fit through the opening, but… Peter’s hand could. Before he could raise his hand and call the kid over, Peter spoke.

“I’m done.” For emphasis, electric crack followed the statement.

“Great, I’ll take a look at it in a second. Could you come over here for a moment?” He waited for the boy to walk over, the taser thankfully left on the table. “Do you see that red wire?” Tony asked, pointing to the offending wire. Peter nodded. “I need to connect it to that part, but I can’t reach it. But you could.”

Peter accepted the offered tool from Tony’s hand and easily got the work done.

“Thanks, kiddo. Let’s take a look at that little invention of yours.”

The kid really did have his brains. With proper tools, the taser actually looked decent. Tony pressed the button several times, proving that it also worked. “Yeah, this is great! You’ve got bright future ahead of you.” Maybe he’ll let Peter help with the AI he was working on, the one that would offer the best security imaginable. He didn't want a repeat of yesterday. 

As it turned out, someone had messed with security systems before the attack. Someone on the inside, as Happy put it. But even if the person managed to make shambles of the biometric scans, sooner or later, the culprit will be caught and will regret the day they were born.

Peter tried to pretend to shrug off the praise but failed miserably. The whole situation held such domesticity, it put Tony at ease. It felt right.

And Clint’s words rang out in his mind. “Go with the flow. If it feels right, do it.”

“What?” Peter asked and Tony realized he’s been staring. The time felt right. But why was his heart hammering in his chest so much?

“I have to tell you something.”

“Okay?” Peter’s heart leaped with hope. Were they going to let him go?

Peter was looking at him expectantly with those innocent brown eyes, Tony’s eyes, not suspecting there’s an equivalent of bomb about to be dropped on him. Tony took steadying breath and opened his mouth.

“I am your father.”

Notes:

Boom, another bomb dropped.

The opposite of Stockholm syndrome is called Lima syndrome and those Wiki-How articles are real. I had a good chuckle reading them, considering I'm not a single parent and I don't have teenage son either. Knowledge is fun. And I’ve got a surprise for you next week. See ya!

Chapter 15

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Okay. What?!

Was Mr. Stark quoting Star Wars or something? That was first thought that crossed Peter’s mind.

Peter snapped himself out of his shocked state, yet to say a word to break the silence that fell over the room. He noticed that the man was looking at him intently. Peter wanted to laugh, just to break the tension, but the look on the man’s face… It was serious. Something told him he wasn’t joking.

Another thought that crossed Peter’s mind was: Oh no, he went crazy with reverse Stockholm syndrome. That wasn’t good, no good at all. Because if he did…

“Wha- what?” Peter’s voice shook. He didn’t mean for it to shake. He didn’t mean for his hands to shake either.

That was it. The cat was out of the bag. Tony swore he could see the kid’s brain screech to a halt. Honestly, he couldn’t blame him. “I am your father,” Tony repeated, the word sounding strange even to his own ears. “I know how it sounds—”

“No,” Peter cut him off, “that’s not true. You’re lying. Why are you saying that?” He took in shaky breath. The worst thing about it was that the man sounded… genuine. No, this wasn’t true. It couldn’t be.

Otherwise… everything might just make sense.

“I thought that we already got out of the way that I’m not a liar,” Tony said carefully, softly, as if to not scare the boy.

Peter scoffed. “Do you think this is funny?”

Okay, whatever reaction was Tony expecting, it wasn’t the outburst of anger. He didn’t have a chance to reply.

“Because let me tell you, it’s not. It wasn’t funny the first time with the gun either. Or is this some form of mind game? What, you make all this effort to… to… to be nice to me, to make me trust you and then you do this?” Tears began to sting in his eyes. What had come over him? “Is it funny to you, huh? I have a father.” Peter choked on the word, almost pleading. Despite the relationship with his parents being as it was, and the fact that Ben was more of a father to him, Peter had a father. Right?

Right?

No, he was lying. He was definitely lying just to mess with his head.

Tony ignored how his heart jumped when Peter admitted he trusted him. “I know it sounds crazy and believe me, I was shocked too when I found out, but I swear I’m telling the truth. That whole gun thing was a mistake and I regret that, I do, really.” He racked his brain for something to say to defuse the situation. Damn it, he shouldn’t have gone with Clint’s advice. He should have thought this through more. But he dropped the ball and now he has to deal with the consequences.

“I… I double-checked, and have the test results still saved,” no, wait, those could be falsified. By the looks of it, Peter thought of the same thing. “But we can do the test now, to show you that I’m telling the truth. You will be present through the whole process and you can check all of the equipment beforehand, so you know it wasn’t tampered with.”

He watched as Peter clenched his jaw to prevent it from shaking. Then he gulped, blinked away the tears and took several deep breaths to regain his composure. “Fine.” From the tone of his voice, it was evident he went along with it only to reaffirm what he believed was the truth.

Peter’s heart was racing. He was unable to process a mere implication of that claim. He didn’t understand what Mr. Stark could achieve from claiming him as his son. The answer was: nothing. And that’s what was scaring him the most.

Tony placed his hand on Peter’s small shoulder and led him out of the lab towards the med-bay. He couldn’t help but notice how stiff Peter was under his touch. Again. Guilt clawed at his chest. He didn’t mean to distress the kid anymore, yet it was exactly what he was doing right now. But he needed to go through with this, if only to give the kid some sense of closure. If Tony left this opened…

From the corner of his eye, Tony noticed Rhodey exit one of the storage rooms. He turned his head to look at him fully, and at Rhodey’s questioning look, he nodded at Peter. A look of understanding crossed his face and he sent Tony encouraging nod and smile. Fingers crossed. Tony tried to reciprocate the smile. Whether he succeeded or not, he didn’t know.

Sooner than any of the two wanted, they got to their destination. Tony took out the needed things and laid them out for Peter to examine. The boy gave a tiny nod when he found no sign of manipulation, motioning for Tony to proceed.

Taking a lancet pen in one hand, Tony pricked his finger, drawing blood and wiping it on marked area. This was better than using saliva. He exchanged the needle and wordlessly passed the pen to Peter.

Right. His turn. Peter repeated the moves and once both of the samples were put to processing, he went to sit on the chair in the corner. All he could do was wait. With each second, his anxiety only grew.

Tony sat down on the opposite side of the room. He watched Peter rub the hem of his shirt, his eyes trained on the table’s surface. He decided to pass the time, at least for the kid. It was a good thing he remembered to return the tablet back here without erasing his findings. He placed it in front of Peter, which earned him curious gaze.

“Here’s everything I managed to find. Just thought you might want to look through it,” he said, voice still gentle and returned to his spot. The results of the test will be sent directly into the device. He saw Peter throw him one last glance before picking the tablet and looking over the data. There were the two previous test results, photo of his mother in disguise next to her normal look, the timeline Tony scribbled on there to help him place the events better, his notes and questions written next to certain events.

Tony started to get nervous too. He guessed that Peter’s initial reaction was to be… expected. He would probably do the same, except maybe he would be relieved that he wasn’t Howard’s son. But what will Peter do once he learned that everything he knew was a lie?

The tablet dinged. The results were ready. After brief hesitation, Peter’s hand tapped the screen, displaying the inevitable truth. Tony watched with held breath as various emotions flashed over the boy’s face, finally setting into the last one. Acceptance.

Peter set the tablet down, covering his eyes with one hand. “How long did you know?” he whispered, but his defeated voice rang loud in the silent med-bay. He couldn’t believe it. As much as he wanted to scream, to deny it, he knew he couldn’t fight this concrete proof.

“When you mentioned your mother’s maiden name. I knew her face looked familiar, but I couldn’t place from where. Then it clicked together and I… had to check,” Tony explained, looking in his son’s form.

“How is that possible? I don’t understand!” Peter said, refusing to initiate eye contact.

Under any other circumstances and with any other person, Tony would love to get sarcastic. When a man and a woman love each other very much… Except that wasn’t true. It was a one-night stand and the protection failed. But this was his kid. He deserved to know the truth.

“She was sent to collect information on me. One thing led to another and… something failed along the way. An accident.”

“Well, it’s good thing that nothing changed then!”

Tony’s mouth hung open. “Wait, what?” He was taken aback by the look in Peter’s eyes. Anger, sadness, frustration. What was Peter talking about?

That child was a mistake. That’s what I overheard the man I called my father say about me. And now it explains so much! I know you’re not supposed to eavesdrop on other people’s conversation, but the old apartment had thin walls!”

Peter stood up and paced “his” half of the room in frustration. “Why they almost never came to visit. And when they did, why they never looked at me the way other parents look at their kids. Why they gave me to uncle Ben and aunt May to raise since birth, to people that apparently weren’t even my biological family! Do you think they knew?” Peter turned to Tony. “Do you think they knew the kid they were raising as their own was not related to them by blood?”

Peter didn’t understand why he was yelling. It felt like something broke in him, like a dam filled with pent-up emotions. Maybe he was sick of pretending, of lying that everything was fine. Sick of lying to Ned. Sick of lying to MJ.

Sick of lying to himself.

“Family doesn’t always have to be blood related,” Tony interjected with raised arms, making Peter stop the pacing. “I mean- have you seen that bunch upstairs? I bet your aunt and uncle loved you and that’s what matters.” Tony didn’t know that for sure, but the words had the desired effect.

“It doesn’t erase the fact that I was – that I am a mistake,” Peter resumed his pacing, running his hand through his hair.

“Don’t say that.”

“Oh, sorry. Is inconvenience better?” Next words spoken were shaky. “When mom found out she was pregnant, it was already too late to do anything about it. I went on undetected. She had no complications, no nausea, nothing. And then it was too late. Apparently, you couldn’t tell she was pregnant until she was in her seventh month.”

And suddenly it all made sense to Tony. Why Mary kept the child. A stone fell from his heart when he realized Peter wasn’t angry only with him. He was angry with his parents too. It didn’t mean he wasn’t bothered by the things Peter was saying.

“The first thing they did when this mistake was born? Got it out of their sight! Ben and May wanted kids, surely they’ll look after him! But then,” Peter turned to face Tony, tears shimmering in his eyes, his voice breaking on next words, “they were gone. It took them ten days to come pick me up from that foster family I was placed into.”

The words kept spiling. He knew he should stop talking, but he couldn’t.

“They stayed with me for two weeks, never hugging me once, or telling me everything would be okay. The usual stuff. Instead, they found new apartment for me to stay, moved all the things there and then left again! Just so they wouldn’t look at the mistake anymore. They don’t care. And they were right!”

“That’s enough!”

Tony didn’t mean to yell. Regret flooded him when he saw Peter flinch. But some of the words hit too close to home even for him. Howard… he wanted a heir. Someone who would continue the family business. But that was all. He didn’t see Tony as a child that needed to be loved. In his eyes, Tony was a tool and nothing else. At least he had his mom until he was an adult, but Peter… for the past one and a half years, he had nobody.

Well, that was about to change.

In a few long strides, Tony marched over to his son, who took scared step back.

“Don’t you ever talk about yourself like that!” Tears were fully falling from Peter’s eyes, sliding down his cheeks. Tony got ahold of his face and wiped them away with his thumbs. “What happened, happened. There’s nothing that can be done about it. But none of it was your fault. You didn’t ask for any of this. If anything, the only people at fault I see here are Richard and Mary for acting the way they did. Hell, I guess even I’m at fault! If only I knew…”

Tony let go of the teary face and pulled Peter in his arms. “If only I knew about you sooner... You are not a mistake to me. You are a wonderful kid. You are so smart and brave and kind. Your aunt and uncle did amazing job raising you. I can only wish that I was in your life from the beginning.” Even if he wasn’t at his best back in those days.

Peter’s knees buckled as fresh wave of tears fell from his eyes. Tony lowered both of them down, pulling fully sobbing Peter impossibly close. Just like Maria used to do it, Tony ran his hand through the mop of brown curls in comforting manner.

“What do you want from me?” Peter choked out. This was all too much. It was getting difficult to draw in full breath.

Tony was stunned. What did he want from Peter? Sure, at first he wanted him to comply and not to cause problems so he can be used as a bargain chip. But now? What did he want from him?

Luckily, he was saved from answering by Peter’s desperate attempts to breathe. He hugged him tighter and murmured silent reassurances into his hair as he gently rocked their bodies from side to side. It took about two minutes for Peter’s breathing to somewhat normalize.

“I want to go back to my room. I need to think about this. Alone.”

It broke Tony’s heart to see him like this. It was a lot to unpack and he didn’t want to leave him alone. But the best he could do was to honor his wish. He ignored the tearstains on his shirt as he led Peter to his room.

Peter didn’t spare a single glance in Tony’s direction when they arrived. With a sigh, Tony closed the door, not locking it. As he turned around, he was met face to face with Friday, those dark eyes looking at him. He bent down and scratched her behind her ears, which granted him affectionate lick in return.

“Listen,” he said quietly so Peter wouldn’t hear, “if you go in there and work your magic, I’ll get you the best steak New York has to offer. Deal?”

Friday blinked up at him before walking into the room. Her tail was hesitantly wagging as she approached the teary-eyed teen. She jumped on the bed and placed her head on his lap, looking up at him.

“Did you know about this?” Peter asked, sniffing. “I guess you did. From the first time we met.” New wave of tears fell from Peter’s eyes as he hugged the dog close.

With faraway look on his face, Tony pushed himself off of the wall and walked towards the common room.

Notes:

God, I’m a monster! Somebody take this child from my arms!

But here's some ✨angst✨

Anyway, you might have noticed that the chapter count’s been decided. I was supposed be finished with first drafts earlier, but every time I’m nearing the end of my stories, I put off finishing them for as long as I can because I don’t want it to end.
I’ve already planned another projects for this fandom, but I wanted to ask you this – among the others that will come, would you like short stories taking place after the end of this one? (none of this is the surprise I mentioned, that will come soon.)

Love you all and see you soon.

Chapter 16

Notes:

Surprise! Instead of two updates, you get three this week! (because it's my birthday and since I can't properly celebrate, I decided to... well, throw a "party" here) So, here - take this virtual cake🍰 and enjoy.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

The atmosphere in the common room was somber. Rhodey told them that Tony told Peter. The smiles everyone wore froze when Tony walked in, looking drained. And by the time Tony finished retelling how it went and what he learned, the tearstains on his shirt evaporated. “It was like triple speed-run of five stages of grief,” Tony rubbed his face. “I messed it up. I should’ve waited, given him more time…God, I’m so dumb.”

And now, they were here, sitting in silence. Nobody wanted to address the elephant in the room, but they knew they had to. The time was slowly but surely running out.

“I guess that now we know the reason behind the lack of action from their side,” Steve said quietly.

“One would think they would at least care a little,” Tony practically spat.

“You weren’t in that apartment, Tony,” Clint said. “The only lived-in room was his. There were no pictures except maybe one with his aunt and uncle. It was so empty.” As a family man, Clint was used to things lying around, whether it was here or over at his farm. Bucky only nodded in agreement.

“It all falls into place,” Rhodey said. “There was no report of him missing and to my knowledge, there still isn’t one. Yes, there could be a possibility that they are planning something, but… And then there was this whole ‘good luck with that’ comment.”

“What comment now?”

“The thing he muttered when you were leaving the med-bay. When you said his parents can come pick him up,” Rhodey shook his head. “He probably had a feeling, or knew they weren’t coming.”

Natasha glanced out of the window. The night sky was thick with clouds. A storm was brewing. “That’s messed up.”

“What do we do now?”

 

Clint knew what to do. Or more like what needed to be done. Or, well, said. He was currently crawling through the vents towards specific room. He hoped Peter would be awake already. Breakfast will be served later this morning since Tony wanted to be the one to make it, so that gives him plenty of time.

Peter was lying on his side, running his hand through Friday’s fur. The night’s storm matched with the one raging inside of him. Now he felt just… numb. Like after Ben and May – because you can’t get hurt when you feel nothing, right? He was grateful that Friday stayed by his side the whole time.

“Peter. Hey!”

Peter shot up, looking around the empty room. “God? Am I going crazy?” He would have though he imagined the voice, but suppressed snickering proved that he didn’t. Friday sat up as well and barked at the ceiling.

“No, no. I’m up here. Higher,” the voice navigated, “in the vent.”

“What? Mr. Barton?” Peter asked when his eyes landed on the tiny hatch. He couldn’t see him. “Why are you in the vent? How did you get up there in the first place?” The cycle of crazy just kept on going, huh…

“Let me tell you, it’s growing increasingly difficult, but I’ve got one entrance that even Tony doesn’t know about. Don’t tell him, though.” An odd sound was coming from up there. “Hold on, let me just…” The hatch came undone, revealing Clint’s face.

“How long were you up there?” Peter asked. Was he being watched from up there?

“I just arrived. Don’t worry, I don’t visit bedrooms and co. You can’t get out through these.” When he saw Peter breathe out in relief, his face softened. “How are you holding up?”

So, he knew. It was safe to assume everybody knew. Peter shifted on the mattress, letting his back rest against the wall. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” Clint prompted gently.

“I don’t know what to think anymore,” Peter said, wrapping his arm around the dog seated on his lap. He was pretty sure it was at least a year since Friday fitted into someone’s lap comfortably. She didn’t seem to care. “I mean – one moment… one moment I am a son of Richard and Mary Parker, and the other one I find out that I’ve been lied to my whole life and my biological father is a…”

“Mob boss?”

Peter nodded. “I don’t even properly know what that means. Or what you guys do. I just know it’s… bad,” Peter admitted.

“Yeah,” Clint sighed. “Though, there are worse. I know what I’m about to say next will sound weird, but you are actually lucky it was us that figured out your existence.”

Peter found that hard to believe. “Like this… Hydra or what was it called?”

“That’s one example, yes. You see, not everyone in our world has a certain moral code. Majority of families do, but Hydra wouldn’t hesitate to kill anyone. Not even a child.” Clint watched as the implication sunk in. True, Stark family did bad things, but by doing so, they kept worse things from happening. “You don’t have to worry about them. Last time they tried something, it didn’t end well for them.” Still, keep an eye on them.

“There used to be more groups. I don’t know if you remember since you were little at the time, but there was a spike of violence in the streets, like, around ten years ago?”

Yeah, Peter had some vague recollection of that. He remembered Ben picking up May from work when she worked late shifts and that the trips to the playground got more sporadic.

“That was because there was this one group called Ten Rings. They fought everyone they could with no regards of where they were or who was around. They almost got your da- I mean Tony, too. He’s got a reminder of that day he almost died on his chest, over his heart. But you know what happens when you poke a tiger with a stick. Ten Rings is no more.”

Peter, sighed. Yeah, he guessed that would make sense. “All my life I thought that science was flowing through my veins. Now I don’t know where I’m supposed to belong. I mean, is it expected of me to do the same? To be a… criminal? No offence.”

Clint chuckled. “None taken. And no, I knew Tony for quite some time. He would never force you into our world. We chose this. You didn’t. And don’t have to.” Clint watched as Peter’s lips pressed into thin line. Time to change tactics.  “I have three kids on my own, you know?” That seemed to get the boy’s attention. “The oldest wants to be professional football player, the middle one wants to be ballerina and the youngest one, well, his current objective is to get used to the potty. And that’s okay! Because you kids are supposed to be your own people, not your parents.”

Peter was silent for a moment. “Okay, Mr. Barton. I’ll think about it. Thanks.”

And that was his cue to go. But before he left… “Call me Clint.”

“Okay, Mr. Clint.”

Clint shook his head in amusement. This kid. But hey! A point for him. He was the first one that was addressed by his name! “Alright. Come upstairs for breakfast in about half an hour? If we’re lucky, it won’t be burnt. I believe the door is unlocked. Friday will make sure you don’t get lost,” he joked as closed the hatch and crawled away.

Peter didn’t bother to tell the man that he had no idea when thirty minutes pass, as there still wasn’t any clock. He looked down into dark eyes watching him. “What do I do?”

 

“Come on, man. We’re hungry!”

“At this point, I won’t make it to my afternoon meeting,” Pepper teased. “Are you sure you don’t want any help?”

“Guys,” Steve poked his head into the room where the team was seated, waiting for breakfast from increasingly frustrated Tony who insisted he didn’t need help and would do this alone. “Where’s Peter?”

“What do you mean ‘where’s Peter’”? Natasha asked.

“I mean that he wasn’t in his room when I came for him.”

Clint checked the time. “I told him to come up for breakfast. Did he get lost? He had Friday with him.”

Tony spun around, flour flying off the tightly clutched spoon. “What if he ran?” That seemed to get everyone on alert. Well, everyone except Rhodey. Dark moving spot outside caught his attention, making him walk to the window.

“If that’s the case, he couldn’t have gotten far,” Bucky said, already on his feet.

“He didn’t,” Rhodey said, not taking his eyes from the scene outside.

“How could you know that?”

When Rhodey didn’t make any move to answer, they walked over to him to see what he was looking at. Friday was running back and forth, chasing a tennis ball that was being thrown. Tilting heir heads down, they saw the person throwing the ball.

Peter.

“How did he get outside?”

“Well, his door was unlocked and if I were to guess, I would say Friday. She didn’t have her morning run with Steve after all.”

“I’ll go get him,” Tony said. “You can finish the batter until we get back, but nothing else! You hear me?” he called out over his shoulder, wiping the flour off his hands and T-shirt.

He made quick way downstairs, slowing down when his shoes stepped on the grass. Peter must have noticed Friday’s reaction of his arrival, but the teen didn’t turn around to acknowledge him. Instead, he threw the ball once again.

Tony walked closer. “You could have run,” he stated.

“No, I couldn’t and you know that. Sorry if I made you worry. I just think better out in fresh air. It was getting suffocating inside.” Last time Peter was outside, he was running for his life. And he hit his head. This was nice. The air carried the remnants of night’s rain and the sun reflected on quickly evaporating water droplets on the grass.

“You sure do say sorry a lot.”

“Sorry.”

“How did you end up out here anyway?” Tony asked, already suspecting the answer.

“Friday,” Peter said as if it explained everything. He decided to elaborate. “After Mr. Clint left, we went to the dining room. Or, at least, I tried. Friday pulled and pushed me in different direction and then we reached the exit. When I wanted to turn around, she started barking at me. So, to not cause alarm, I followed her here, where she got the ball.”

“She’s very smart dog,” Tony smiled. He watched as Peter did the same.

“Yeah. She’s awesome.”

They stood side to side now, both looking ahead. This time, Friday pushed the ball into Tony’s hand. When he threw it and she brough it back, she switched to Peter again.

“Have you thought about the situation?”

“I did.”

Tony’s hands curled into fists before he forced them to open. “What’s the verdict?”

Peter let the silence hung in the air for a little. Should he go through with it? But then again, what did he have to lose? There was no reason to not be civil about this. Friday looked up at him, giving him confidence. “I decided to give you a chance,” he said, looking at the man.

Tony felt relief wash over him, but he sensed there was a ‘but’ coming.

“But,” yep, called it, “I have one question and one condition.”

“Okay, shoot.” That might have been wrong thing to say, based on the brief awkwardness setting over them. “I mean… ask away.”

“Will you force me into this… illegal stuff?” Peter was well aware what Clint said. He just needed to hear it from Tony himself.

“What? No! Of course not!” Was this what Peter’s been worried about? God no. The kid didn’t have single bad bone in his body. Tony didn’t want to taint that. When he was young, he swore to himself he would never be like Howard. He will make the man turn over in his grave so much it would make wind turbine jealous. “You have my word.”

Peter blinked at the sincerity of the reaction. This was too raw to be faked. “Okay. Just making sure.”

“And the condition?”

“In the end, it’s my choice. If I decide that I want nothing to do with you, you leave me alone. My friends too.”

“Condition accepted,” Tony said without missing a beat. He got a chance to fight. He’s not going to waste it. “But I thought we got out of the way that I wouldn’t hurt your friends.”

Peter just shrugged, then his brow rose and tiny smirk appeared when he glanced at Tony’s T-shirt. “Flour?”

Ah, so he wasn’t as successful at wiping it off as he thought. “We’re having pancakes. Well, I’m making pancakes, so we better hurry or there won’t be an end to their complaining.” Tony wrapped his arm around Peter’s shoulder, surprised that the boy leaned into the hug. Looking up, he noticed the team watching them and silently cheering on him. Well-pointed sharp look was enough to send them scattering like some schoolkids.

Back in the kitchen, Peter sat on the stool at the kitchen counter and Tony went to the stove. “All right, pancakes coming right up!”

“Finally,” Clint grumbled, but sent a wink Peter’s way, which earned him shy smile.

“Yeah. Peter will need all the energy for today’s self-defense lesson,” Steve said.

“Again?” Peter whined.

Tony chose to tease the kid instead of snapping back at them. “You’re right. And he won’t grow if he won’t eat.” He grinned at the glare Peter sent at him.

“I might be small, but…” Peter’s nose scrunched and eyes moved over Tony’s shoulder, “I don’t think pancakes are supposed to burn.” At Tony’s confused look, Peter pointed to the stove with wide eyes. “Fire!”

Tony spun around, noticing small flame dancing on the pan. “Shit!” he yelled and quickly moved the pan away, fanning out the flame while others laughed in the background.

“And this is why you leave cooking to Steve!” Bucky called out from the couch. “How can you even start a fire without smelling it?”

“You just have to make up for Wilson’s absence, don’t you?” At Tony’s harsh sigh, Peter shook his head with smile and slid off the stool. “May I?” he asked, already taking the pan from Tony’s hands.

“You know how to cook?” Pepper asked.

Peter shrugged. “Yeah, but like, four meals.” He purposefully left out the part where he accidentally almost set the kitchen that looked like after bombardment on fire. He helped Mrs. Davis to clean the mess and then she taught him. “Perks of living alone, I guess. Cooking, budgeting… You learn to take care of yourself.” He didn’t notice the angry looks – that weren’t meant for him – all adults shared. “Besides, you can’t satisfy midnight cravings if you don’t know how to make these.”

Tony walked over, looking at nicely done pancake. “Huh. Great job,” he praised and ruffled his son’s hair.

Peter wouldn’t admit it out loud, but the praise was nice. Looks like maybe he made the right choice after all.

 

In a certain part of New York, in a dimly lit room with white smoke hanging in the air, a man seated on a small couch observed other people present. One of his henchmen leaned down, whispering in his ear. The man’s blue eyes sparkled.

“Oh, does he now?” he asked with predatory smile. “Well, it would be a shame if we didn’t use that to our advantage, wouldn’t it?”

Notes:

New player enters the stage. Who are you, mysterious blue-eyed man?

Chapter 17

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

“I don’t know man. They’re not really doing anything as far as I know. They always lock themselves up in that soundproof room with Hill and Fury when discussing that matter. So far, the planned transport is proceeding as scheduled.”

Tony sighed at the piece of info from Sam. They had time until Saturday and then it will be impossible to get Stane out. There are several more options on how to force Parkers to move, but Tony didn’t want to involve Peter in those and break the already fragile trust.

He was toying with one more idea that could be used as last resort. He never liked the man that much, as after his parents’ deaths, Stane was always “Howard would or wouldn’t do it like this. Howard would deal with those rivals differently. Howard this, Howard that…” And Tony didn’t care, simply choosing to shove the responsibilities to him. At least until the whole Ten Rings thing. Tony could tell that Obie was disgruntled when he took the control again.

For a second, he wondered why he was even doing this, but then he remembered what was drilled into his head since he was a child. Family comes first. And Obadiah was family, wasn’t he? He was Howard’s loyal right hand. But sometimes, something about him just rubbed Tony the wrong way. He had this… look in his eyes that appeared and disappeared in a flash.

This was turning into giant bother. “Did he confess to anything? Spilled any secrets?”

“Not yet. He knows you’re planning on getting him out. But I can’t promise it’ll stay that way once he’s on the Raft. People over there have their ways to get what they want.” For a moment, neither of them spoke. Sam broke the serious tension with shaking his head and barking out disbelieved laugh. “Damn, I still can’t believe you have a kid. And that it’s that kid. It’s crazy.”

Tony rolled his eyes. “Yeah, you mentioned that the last time we called too.”

“Does he call you father, dad or daddy?” Sam’s shoulders shook with suppressed laughter.

Tony stared, unimpressed. “Alright, I’m hanging up now.”

“No, wait, I’m kidding, I’m kidding,” Sam took a second to compose himself before he continued. “As of now, Parkers don’t know that you know. Any time it’s brought up, there’s this sign of annoyance on their faces.”

“Anything else?”

“Yeah. I don’t think it’s that long until they figure out that agent Smith is doppelganger and that the real one is long dead.”

That was Sam’s cover. They took the advantage of the two men’s similarities and with some photostatic veil and gloves, the two were indistinguishable. Stage what looked like an attack and voila. You have an agent with partial amnesia to cover for things he couldn’t possibly know. The attackers were, of course, never caught.

“Okay. Get out of there at the first sign that they might be after you. Send a message if anything new comes up.” Tony ended the call, his face reflecting on the black screen. With a groan coming from his throat, he rubbed his face.

Soft huff made him look down. He scratched the spot behind Friday’s ear, just like she liked it. “No worries, I remember our deal. Best steak for my wonderful girl.” Tony smiled and got up. “Thanks for being with Peter, but let’s check on him so the others won’t run him into the ground. I think he’ll appreciate us pulling him out of the gym.”

Tony walked in just as Peter’s back hit the mat, Natasha towering over him.

“Legs more apart and then shift your weight as you extend your arm. Again.”

Peter whined. “Can’t I go back to Mr. Barnes?”

“No.”

“Aw.”

“Don’t worry, you’re doing great!” Bucky called out from where he was holding punching bag for Steve. After he was done going over a set of new moves, Natasha took over, leaving no room for arguments. “If you manage to land a single hit on her, you know you are on good track.”

Bucky had experience with training novices slowly, thanks to Steve before he hit the growth spurt. Kids in their neighborhood in Brooklyn were assholes, always picking on Steve. Steve being reckless didn’t help the case much either. Natasha, on the other hand, preferred more… direct approach. Though she still went easy on the teen.

“You heard him,” Natasha offered her hand, helping Peter up. “I’ll give you a break if you manage to stay on your feet.”

Peter got into the stance that was drilled into him in his short time here and waited for Natasha to charge at him. In spur of a moment, Peter decided to use different move Bucky taught him. He ducked under Natasha’s arm, crouching and outstretching his leg in an attempt to trip her. He slowly stood up and gawked at the woman that effortlessly flipped over him.

But! “Hey, I’m still stan—”

The smile on his face froze when Natasha closed the distance between them, kicking Peter’s feet from underneath him. To soften his fall, she grabbed the teen’s arm, letting go once his back hit the mat.

Peter let his head fall back. “Never mind.”

“Ha,” Clint smirked at Natasha, “he almost got you. Good job, Pete.”

“Thanks, Mr. Clint.”

“How come you use his first name while the rest of us is still stuck at last names?” Rhodey asked. Clint opened his arms and shrugged with satisfied smile.

“Yeah, almost,” she nodded at Peter and grinned. “Unfortunately, almost doesn’t count. Again.”

Peter was pretty sure she was enjoying throwing him on the ground. This wasn’t fun at all! The fact that hesitation made him freeze from time to time didn’t help either. The memories were still sort of fresh in his mind.

“But I have to admit, it surprised me. You are impulsive. I assume it was the same in that hallway?”

“A guy pushes someone out of the bullet’s way and suddenly I’m impulsive?” Peter muttered. “It was… an instinct.”

“So, impulsive by default,” she glanced over her shoulder, “like certain someone standing over there.”

“I choose to take that as a compliment,” Tony replied. “And technically, Peter managed to stay on his feet. You didn’t specify after how many lunges.” Peter gave him grateful look. Tony winked back at him.

“You want to give it a go, Stark?” Natasha challenged.

“Uh, excuse me, I just finished business call and I’m still in my suit. Tempting offer, but I’ll have to refuse.”

Rhodey stretched his back, groaning. “Great. Now we have two people with recklessness in their blood. Three, if you count Steve.”

“Hey!”

“Alright,” Tony clapped twice, “let’s wrap this up.” He motioned for Peter to come over. When the boy was within the reach, Tony placed one hand below Peter’s chin, the other one reaching for his forehead. He pretended he didn’t notice the way he fought off the reaction to stiffen. “As per doctor’s orders, we can get that band aid off today. There we go, much better,” he said as he peeled it off, throwing it in the trash can in the corner. “Not a trace of any cut.”

Peter’s hand went to his forehead once Tony’s left his face, rubbing over the spot. There was a bit of a glue that came off because of the sweat, but overall, the skin felt smooth.

“Now, I have the rest of the day off. What do you say to a movie? But you all need to shower first.”

“Whose turn is to pick?” Steve asked, putting the punching bag to its space.

“Let the kid pick,” Tony said.

Peter’s head tilted to the side. “I can pick?”

“That’s what I said.”

It didn’t take long for the boy to choose. With increasingly widening smile, he looked up at Tony. “Have you ever seen Star Wars?”

 

“No, Luke. I am your father.”

“This is the exact line you used when you told me,” Peter pointed at the screen while suppressing a yawn. The physical activity was more draining than he thought. And if you add his lack of sleep, the task of holding his head upright became almost impossible. He leaned his head on the couch.

The sky turned dark a while ago. After the team sat down, they put on New Hope first, followed by dinner where Peter admitted what was going on inside his head these past few days.

 

“I wasn’t sure if I was going crazy or all of you were going crazy. Or both.”

“Why would you think we were going crazy?”

“The sudden one-eighty you all did? When I had no idea why?” Peter left out the part when he thought what a douche-y move it was.

“Ooh… oh, I see how that must’ve look like to you now. Whoops.”

“Yeah. Whoops.

“Sorry.”

Tony looked genuinely sorry. Peter will take it for now.

 

Then they put on Empire Strikes Back. Pepper was sitting next to Tony, who sat next to Peter, who sat next to Friday.

“Really, Tony?” Rhodey looked over at his best friend with amused expression. “You pulled Vader on him?”

“You’re lucky there weren’t any reactor shafts,” Bucky jabbed at him as well. Both he and Rhodey received nasty glare in return.

“At least he didn’t cut my hand off,” Peter said, quieter. His eyes began to fall shut on their own. Friday’s head on his lap didn’t help much either. She had calming presence, making Peter feel safe.

“But why would he do that if he wanted Luke to join him?” Steve asked, dragging others into a debate about the scene.

Tony was pulled from his musing about Peter feeling the same as Luke when felt something land on his shoulder. Peter. His eyes were closed, soft breaths escaping past his slightly parted lips. Tony felt a rush of protectiveness fill his heart. In that moment, he swore that he would do anything to protect this kid. His son. He didn’t realize when his face took on the gentleness.

“Hey!” Natasha quietly hissed at the group of arguing men on another couch, jerking her head to where the father-son duo was sitting.

They shut their mouths, peeking over to look at the scene. Cooing, Clint whipped out his phone and turned on the camera.

“Barton, don’t you dare! I’ll hunt you down, I swear!” Tony hissed at the man, about to get up.

Pepper lightly hit her fiancé’s arm. “Don’t move, you’ll wake him up!” she whisper-shouted at him. Tony threw her exasperated look but complied. However, it didn’t stop him from throwing nasty look at retreating Clint.

“That one’s going on the wall.”

The credits rolled. Bucky reached for the remote to turn the movie off.

“Underoos,” Tony kept his voice low as he gently shook the boy awake. “The movie’s over. Time for bed.”

“Hm,” came Peter’s weak reply as his eyes opened by a crack.

“You good to go on your own or should I carry you?” Tony asked. To some, it might sound as a joke, but he was serious. He was really willing to carry him.

“I’m good,” he mumbled. Friday removed herself from his lap when Peter stood up. “G’night.”

“Good night,” a chorus followed him out of the room.

A beat of silence. “I hope he doesn’t pass out in the hallway.”

The team was left wondering how was it possible that a kid could grow on them in such a short time span?

Rhodey was the first to speak. “I reserve the main uncle position.”

That got a reaction out of Clint. “Hey, no fair! I called dibs on that position first! And by the way, did you forget that I’m the only one who he’s using first name with?”

“Yeah, but he’s still using Mr. And I’m Tony’s best friend and right hand. He wants to go to MIT and guess who, besides Tony, went to MIT before changing carriers? We connect through that. Naturally, the position falls to me.”

“But I had the most fun with him while training,” Bucky chimed in. “I basically taught him all he knows before Natasha stole him from me.”

“If we go by that logic, then I knew him the longest. Just saying,” Steve shrugged.

Natasha slid into space previously occupied by Peter, observing the growing argument, while chewing on some popcorn.

“What are they doing?” Pepper asked, confused and concerned at the same time.

“They’re arguing about who is going to be the kid’s main uncle and who gets second chair,” Natasha replied. “Popcorn?”

“Shouldn’t we stop them before it escalates? They look like they’re about to fight.”

“No,” Tony shook his head as he looked at the bickering men, taking some popcorn from the offered bowl. “This is far too entertaining to watch.” Nice to see Peter had the effect on everybody.

“Agreed.”

“Fine, then I’ll take on the position of an aunt,” Clint pouted, crossing his arms over his chest.

At that, Natasha shoved the bowl in Tony’s hands, rose to her feet and marched over to join the fray. “What did you say, Barton?”

“You’re already aunt to three kids!”

“And you have three kids!”

“This is better that some comedy,” Tony chuckled to himself. He was debating whether he should add more gasoline to the fire. He knew he had his position secured and nobody could take that away from him. But his mind took him elsewhere. For some reason, Peter sometimes looked… sad throughout the day. He wondered what the reason for that was. Was he still coming to terms with the news?

“Wait,” Rhodey said, leaving the argument. “Pepper, what’s tomorrow’s date?”

“August 10th,” she replied, not understanding where he was going with it.

“And Tony,” he turned to the man, the others falling silent, “do you remember when Peter birthday is?”

Tony thought about that for a few seconds. Yeah, he saw it on Peter’s school reports and stuff. “Uh, August te—”

He felt like smacking his forehead. How could he forget? His eyes widened, voice picking up volume.

“August 10th!”

Notes:

Let The Uncle Games begin! May the odds ever be in your favor.

Thank you all for beautiful birthday wishes. I had a wonderful day. Also, The Falcon and The Winter Soldier drops today! It feels like I can celebrate two days in a row!

Much love and good vibes to all of you and have a nice weekend.

Chapter 18

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

“Pep, cancel every company meeting there is tomorrow, the data transfer from old and unused company computers doesn't need your supervision. Rhodey, you cancel every meeting or call here.” Tony stood up straight, his presence of authority falling over the room.

“Rogers, you call the bakery on sixth street. We need a cake for tomorrow, no strawberries." He hoped Peter wasn’t allergic to anything. “Do it now. They worked for us before, they will make it on time. You’ll be the one picking it up as well.”

“What flavor?” Steve asked.

Tony paused at that. “The usual. Uh, present. Okay, uhm, a car! No, he’s not old enough to drive. Or… a house. Yeah. Nice summer house on the beach in Malibu.”

“Whoa, wait a minute,” Rhodey interrupted. “House in Malibu?”

“Yeah, you’re right. That’s lame. A private island would be way better,” Tony nodded to himself.

“What? No!”

“Tony,” Pepper said gently, “I think what Rhodey’s trying to say that maybe you should tone it down a little. We wouldn’t want to overwhelm him. Better to stick to something… smaller.”

Overwhelm him? Why would that be- ooh. Right, Tony forgot that Peter wasn’t used to… luxury. He let out long groan. “I don’t even know what smaller thing he might like.”

“I might help with that,” Clint raised his hand. When he received a nod to continue, he pointed to the TV. “The movies. He had a Star Wars poster in his room and a Lego model of one of those ships. Going with that is a safe bet. And T-shirts with puns, he wears those.”

Yeah, that made sense. “Fine. You’re in a charge of getting the present. Unlimited budget. Pick anything you see fit. You mess up, you’re dead.” The threat slipped, but Clint was used to it, so he shrugged it off.

Okay, that was a cake, a present… what else? Friday. “Romanov, I need you to go to that fancy steak house on the other side of the city and get the best steak for Friday. Hell, get her two. She deserves it.” At the raised brow from the woman and confused looks from the rest of the team, he rolled his eyes in exasperation. “It’s thanks to her that the kid gave me a chance. I made a deal with her and she upheld her end of it. Don’t question why I make deals with my dog.”

Natasha shrugged. In her whole time here, she experienced far stranger things. “Okay.”

“What about me?” Bucky asked.

“You, Barnes, are gonna make the kid cash out his prize. Go to the lab, keep him busy while we get everything ready.” Bucky nodded. Time to spend with Peter can give him an advantage over others. “All right. If you have business in the city, you leave first thing after breakfast and be back before two. The rest of us will take care of decorations. That is all,” Tony said and plopped back in his seat with a puff.

Shit, shit, shit. How could he forget? Was that the reason Peter looked sad? If it wasn’t for Rhodey reminding him, he would accidentally do another thing like Howard. On Tony’s birthday, his mom used to make him small cake and give him some little gift. His father on the other hand? Tony was lucky if he got passing ‘happy birthday’ wish.

Sure, the circumstances right now might not be ideal, but he will be damned if his kid won’t have nice birthday. Especially considering that since the death of his aunt and uncle, Peter probably had no one to celebrate the day with. And that were only birthdays. Tony didn’t want to think about other holidays Peter had to spend alone.

“Well, that was fast,” Rhodey commented. “But hey, I’m not turning down free cake.”

 

Peter woke up slowly, his eyes meeting the ones of Friday. He gave her small smile and petted her head. There was no trace of the usual morning grumpiness, which meant he slept long enough. The day started nicely.

“Morning,” he greeted her and she gave him her dog smile in return. “You wouldn’t happen to know what time it is, would you?” he mumbled.

Peter’s smile fell a little when he remembered what day was today. He’s officially fifteen. This was his second birthday without Ben and May. Without everybody actually. Ned was gone and his parents… they made an appearance for exactly five birthday parties, but only briefly.

He concluded he wouldn’t tell anyone here. Why should he burden them with that? If he was home, he would get himself a piece of cake or a cupcake, watch a movie and then some tinkering. And here? He’ll simply… spend time with others, see how things progress.

Mr. Stark was trying, that much was obvious, but Peter didn’t want to get his hopes up for nothing. He needed to be careful. Otherwise, he might hurt himself when, or if, the abandonment comes.

Friday quietly woofed, snapping Peter from his thoughts, bent down and reemerged with silver bowl in her mouth. Peter’s brows furrowed. This wasn’t here when he went to sleep. She let out low noise and took a step towards the door, her eyes never leaving Peter’s.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m coming.” He couldn’t help but to shake his head at her antics.

When they arrived in the kitchen, Peter was surprised to find only three people there. Mr. Stark, Ms. Potts and Mr. Barnes. Huh. Where is everybody?

“Oh, I was wondering where that went,” Tony walked over and took the bowl from Friday’s mouth. “You, Miss, made quite a mess when you dumped everything from this bowl,” he scolded, but was met with a look that clearly said she had no regrets.

“Where are the others?” Peter asked, looking around.

“They had some work to do in the city,” Pepper replied, sipping on her coffee. “Rhodey is somewhere here, running around.”

Peter glanced at the clock on the wall, noting that they let him sleep in. It was a pity, really. Less people = less noise to distract him from his thoughts.

Tony flashed Peter worried look when he noticed the kid tried to hide his sadness. He wanted to say something, but that would ruin the surprise. He noticed Rhodey walking in, box in his hands. Tony shot him a look and waved his arm at him. Rhodey quickly hid behind the wall just as Peter turned around to see what he was waving at.

“Mosquitoes,” he blurted with a shrug at Peter’s puzzled look, completely ignoring the fact that there was no way for one of those blood suckers to get in. “Breakfast is on the table,” he redirected Peter’s attention to the table and its single occupant.

Rhodey’s head briefly peeked in, retreating when Tony shot him get-away-from-here look.

Bucky slid filled plate Peter’s way. He glanced at Tony, who gave him go-ahead nod. “So, Peter, what do you say we take a look at the arm after breakfast?”

The boy perked up at that. “Really?”

“You earned it,” Bucky replied, smiling softly.

“Wow, thanks, Mr. Barnes.”

“It’s Bucky.”

“Okay, Mr. Bucky.”

“Jeez, drop the Mr., would you?”

“I’ll try.”

Tony ignored the stinging feeling that he was still stuck at Mr. Stark. “You can do that in my lab. I’ll let you in, but don’t blow it up. Peter, you’re in charge when you’re down there.”

“I can look after myself,” Bucky protested.

“Yeah, but I don’t trust you in my lab. He knows the drill.”

 

Peter couldn’t help but look with wide eyes at the metal prosthetic. He still couldn’t believe he was allowed to take a look at the inside mechanics. He even managed to find a loose bolt that threatened to fall off.

He didn’t need to know that Bucky asked Tony to loosen it beforehand.

“How is it?” Peter asked.

Bucky clenched and unclenched his fist. “Much better. I was having a little difficulty moving that finger for a while now. I’m glad you caught that before it could cause more problems.”

Peter nodded with proud smile – that he tried and failed to hide – and went to put the outer part back on. He saw everything there was to see without taking it apart completely and possibly risk damaging it. He didn’t want that, as he already felt a bit bad about gaping.

“Hey, Mr. Bucky?” Peter asked without taking his eyes off the metal as he worked.

“Yes?”

“If you don’t mind me asking,” Peter hesitated, his voice softening. “How did this happen?” Gosh, he hoped he didn’t offend him.

Bucky let out a soft sigh, his eyes moving to the ceiling. “In one word – Hydra. I’ll spare you the details.” The kid had already enough on his plate.

Ah, there was that name again. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. Besides,” he grinned at Peter, “it’s pretty useful. Now I can punch holes in the walls and not feel a thing. And I don’t have to use mittens when taking a tray of cookies out of the oven,” he laughed.

The tension broke and Peter quietly laughed. “Cookies?”

“Yeah. Like those Tony brought you earlier?”

Peter gawked. “You made those?”

“Just like my ma used to make them. Did you like them?”

“They were delicious!”

Another point for Bucky. Take that, Barton!

He glanced at the time. They haven’t left since they came here, and the lunch was eaten here too. It was almost time. He shot a text to Steve whether it was clear to come up yet. The positive reply came at the same time as Peter set down the screwdriver with satisfied “Done!”.

“Let’s head upstairs. The others are back.”

So far, the day went pretty well for Peter. He had fun in the lab. But with his hands not being occupied anymore, his mind began to wander again. Bucky picking up his pace near the common room made him stop while he watched the man jog the rest of the way. Okay? That wasn’t weird at all… Peter rounded the corner and-

“Surprise!”

Peter jumped at the chorus of voices. He blinked several times as the shock passed, taking in the scene in front of him. Decorations were hanging from the ceiling, the people standing underneath them in semi-circle. All kinds of snacks were on the table, but what stood out the most was the cake. One big and a few smaller wrapped boxes were laid down on the floor. Friday even had a party hat on her head, a courtesy of Clint.

The noise died down. The smiles plastered on everybody’s faces turned nervous when Peter didn’t move an inch. Suddenly, his hand flew to his mouth, muffled ‘oh my God’ escaping as he rapidly blinked.

Tony closed the distance when he saw the reaction. “Hey, what’s wrong? You don’t like it? Is it the cake?” he asked gently with eyes full of worry. Did he upset him? He didn’t mean to upset him.

“What?”  Peter looked up at him, tears no longer threatening to fall. “No, no. It’s not that. It’s just… I… I wasn’t expecting this. Thank you. I guess it’s just a little overwhelming, that’s all…” He really wasn’t expecting him to remember, or to know for that matter. It almost looked like he was a part of a family. It felt nice, but… the thoughts from before returned.

In the end, everyone just leaves.

He needed air. “Can I… can I go outside for a minute? I need to… yeah.”

“Uh, sure,” Tony said, throwing unsure glances back at the rest of the team. “You can go for a walk. Just don’t get too close to the fence or the second part of the building.”

“I won’t. Thank you.”

When Peter was out of sight, Tony’s gaze locked with Friday’s. He motioned to the hallway with his head. Friday understood. She walked out of the room and followed the boy.

Once outside, Peter took deep breath. That was… something. “Now I probably came off as rude, don’t you think?” he turned to the dog at his side that managed to shake off the hat. Friday ran off before she returned with her tennis ball in her mouth. “Wanna play fetch?” he asked with little smile as Friday smacked her paws on the ground, arching her back and wagging her tail. “Okay.”

Peter played fetch with her only once so far, but it did wonders for him. He felt he was already calming down. He could return in a few minutes and apologize for acting the way he did. Throwing the ball, Peter didn’t notice when they got halfway to the fence. He should turn back.

“Okay, one last throw,” he said and threw the ball with all his might, Friday sprinting after it. Peter turned around, heading back to the building knowing Friday will catch up with him in no time. That was until he heard her yelp in pain. Spinning around, he saw her licking her paw.

“Oh no, did you step on a bee or something?” Peter frowned. He crouched down, gently taking the paw in his hands. “Huh?” he brought his hand up, squinting at the needle between his fingers. Who would let this thing lying around?

Friday got to her feet and staggered a little. Peter reached his hand to her. “Are you okay?” he asked gently but flinched back when she began to bark at him. “Hey,” he shot to his feet, still talking in placating manner, “Fri, it’s just me. You know me.” Friday barked more aggressively, some of her growls dying half-way down.

Peter outstretched his arms in front of him and took small steps backwards until his back hit something solid. He didn’t have time to turn around and look what it was before funny-smelling cloth was pressed over his mouth and nose, silencing any noise he could make while the other arm wrapped around him, stopping his trashing.

Only then he realized that she wasn’t barking at him. She was barking at the person behind him.

 

“Was it too much? Or was it something I did? What if it really was the cake? Or the presents?” Tony asked, pacing the room.

“He’s just overwhelmed, give him time,” Clint assured, patting Tony’s shoulder.

The commotion outside made Tony’s head snap to the window. There was no reason for Friday to bark like crazy. Unless something happened.

His eyes scanned the area and he felt his heart stop when he saw Peter, slumped over in an unknown man’s hold. Friday fell.

“Peter!” he yelled and ran before he knew it, vaguely aware of others following close behind. His head was turning wildly in every direction, desperate to spot his kid. He stopped at Friday’s side. She was breathing, but there was no sign of anyone else.

Peter was gone.

 

“Tony, I get it, but you have to calm down,” Steve said, placing his hands on Tony’s arms to stop him from pacing. The action earned him rough shove.

“No, Rogers, I won’t calm down!” Tony snapped. “Someone took my kid right from under our noses, from a place that was supposed to be secure!” The first attack was an inside job and Happy was close to discovering who was responsible for that. But this was different.

He didn’t care about the dead guards or the part of the fence that was clearly leveled with the ground by a car. He just wanted to know where his son was. The only comfort he got right now was that Friday will be fine once the sedatives wear off. That, and Pepper’s embrace when he managed to sit still for a minute.

Tony still felt like he should be outside, looking for Peter too. Waiting while Rhodey and Natasha were looking through traffic cams for anything useful just wasn’t enough!

“We have every pair of eyes in the city looking. We’ll find him,” Clint said in an attempt to reassure, but he couldn’t hide the worry completely. This was every parent’s worst nightmare.

“Then why didn’t they find him yet?!” Tony yelled, throwing his hand up in the air. He was about to say something else, but the ringing of his phone stopped him. Without looking at the caller’s ID or realizing it was his work phone, he accepted the video call.

“Hello, Tony.”

The smug face of the man made him seethe. He had a feeling this was the last piece of puzzle.

“What do you want, Beck?”

Notes:

Kidnapped while being kidnapped and on his birthday? This boy's got the worst luck ever!

Chapter 19

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

With a quick swipe, Tony broadcasted the video on the laptop for others to see.

“Is this how you greet your old friend?” Beck pouted mockingly. “I’m hurt, Tony. I’m hurt,” he placed his hand over his heart.

“I’ll ask you again before I hang up since I have more important things to do,” Tony snapped. “What. Do. You. Want.”

It’s been years since the two men last talked. Even if they somehow happened to be at the same event, Tony would do everything in his power to avoid the psycho. How could he hang out with him in the first place when he was younger was beyond him. Maybe as an act of rebellion against Howard? He did many things just to piss off the man after all.

Thankfully, with the support of others, Tony managed to turn his life for the better.

“Oh, really? This late?”

“What’s going on in that drugged up brain of yours? You took too much or something and finally went crazy?”

Beck was the one running drug deals in the city. In his words, he was giving people what they wanted to see. Tony allowed that under two conditions. One – they won’t cause too much of a mess on the streets. Two – Beck won’t run his other business in New York. People might call him a monster or some other nickname, but human trafficking was a big no for him. He didn’t need that in his city. Say what you want, but Tony never touched a single woman that way without her consent.

Beck had the nerve to chuckle. “I know you’re busy. I also know you are looking for a certain someone.”

Tony’s jaw set and eyes slightly narrowed. He was quick to hide it behind a mask of indifference. “Get to the point already.”

“I must say, Tony, I never would have guessed you were the parental type.”

“So, you have him.”

“Indeed, I have,” Beck admitted, his smile widening. “And you are probably wondering what I want from you.”

“Would save us both a lot of time if you’d already spill,” Tony rolled his eyes, but couldn’t help the dread that was pooling in his stomach. Beck was one of the people he never wanted near Peter.

“I want to make a deal with you,” he lifted his chin and crossed his arms over his chest. “You see, my profits never recovered from the time you banned half of my business from New York. My clients have to travel to surrounding states to have their fun. So, here’s the offer,” he made a dramatic pause, “you let me run both of my businesses here freely, and I’ll return your son to you safe and unharmed. No buts, no exceptions, no catches. And besides,” Beck cocked his head to the side, “out of sight, out of mind. You won’t even know it’s happening.”

Tony’s blood boiled. He was also aware of the tension coming from where others were gathered. None of the emotions he felt made their way to the surface, though it was close. He felt disgusted with himself for acting like this, but he couldn’t let Beck gain more leverage against him.

“I want proof of life,” he stated.

“Excuse me?”

“You’re excused. You heard me,” Tony shrugged. “How am I supposed to know you’re not pulling my leg?”

Beck seemed to debate with himself before he grinned like Cheshire cat again. “All right. As you wish. Janice!” he yelled at someone off screen and waved his hand.

Tony’s breath caught in his throat when a man walked over, dragging Peter with him. Someone in the room hissed and honestly? Tony felt the same. Peter was swaying on his feet, eyes unfocused, handcuffs around his wrists and a piece of duct tape over his mouth. If it wasn’t for the other man gripping his arm, the boy would have most definitely fallen over by now.

“Isn’t he just adorable when he’s so weak and helpless like this?” Beck cooed, ruffling Peter’s hair.

“What the fuck have you done to him?” he seethed. Any person who actually met Tony in person knows that when he used that tone, you better get the hell away from him before you end up with a hole between your eyes.

But Beck, the cocky bastard, felt nice and safe thanks to the distance between them. “Oh, don’t worry. We just gave him something to loosen his tongue a little, see if he drops something useful. But no, he just kept talking and talking… none of it made sense and it got annoying real quick. So we gave him some more to shut him up.”

Tony’s trigger finger twitched when Beck grabbed Peter’s chin and ripped the duct tape off. Peter let out small ow, the pain clearing some of the confusion from his face.

“Petey, look! Who is it?” Beck said as if he was speaking to a toddler, pointing to the screen.

Peter blinked several times, his gaze following to where Beck’s finger was pointing. Suddenly, loopy smile appeared on his face when he spotted Tony. “Hey, Mr. Stark! Look! I went on a trip!” he slurred some of the words, but he looked proud.

“Oh, you’re tripping, alright,” Tony couldn’t help but mutter. Kid’s eyes looked like owl’s as he glanced around the room before they half closed again. 

“We’re in D.C. The White House looks nice in the dark! We had nationals here. And we won!”

Beck threw his arm around Peter’s shoulders, pulling him close. “Well, aren’t you smart?”

And like a flip of a switch, Peter’s happy face contorted into suspicious one. “Who are you?”

Tony was about to open his mouth, but Beck beat him to it. “You see, the higher dosage has a side effect. Violent mood swings. It’s still annoying, but less so.”

“I don’t know you,” Peter kept talking to himself. “Stranger danger, stranger danger.” At Peter’s attempts to pull away from the man, Beck gripped his shoulder tighter, digging his fingers in his flesh and getting pained sound out of the boy.

“Get your hands off him,” Tony said through gritted teeth.

“I could fight you!” Peter exclaimed.

“Seriously,” Beck continued as if nothing happened, “it’s hard to believe that this scrawny thing is your kid, not much to be proud of. But I guess I can see the resemblance in behavior. And you know what? Entertain me,” he said and motioned for the man who previously gripped Peter’s arm to uncuff him. “Show me what you can do.” He stepped aside, letting the guard stand against Peter.

“Okay,” Peter nodded to himself and looked down. “Right, right, left, left,” he said while moving his feet into a stance he practiced. He blinked several times to clear his vision, then nodded again and looked at the guard. “Okay. You can charge at me now.”

The guard shrugged but came charging with a wide swing nonetheless. Tony tensed, anticipating the blow. To his and everyone else’s surprise, Peter crouched down and kicked out his leg, making the man stumble and fall flat on his face.

Both sides were stunned. The attacker was expecting he would simply slap the kid and be over with. He definitely wasn’t expecting that.

The rapid change of position caused the boy to fall on his butt. “Holy moly, that actually worked,” Peter muttered to himself before he stood up, swaying but not falling down, and grinned proudly at the camera. “Did you see that?!”

Beck scowled at the teen that dared to ridicule his people and, by extension, him. The guard stood up, marched over and slapped Peter across the face, making him fall down.

“What was that for?” Peter whined after he realized what happened.

Beck clicked his tongue and jerked his hand to the direction Peter was brought from. “Take- take him away. Lock him up and up the dosage,” he muttered.

“You said unharmed!”

“Oh, come on, he’ll just be taking a little nap. He can take it,” Beck brushed off the outburst. “Now, I’ll give you time to decide until tomorrow noon. When making the decision, keep in mind Petey’s wellbeing. Do the right choice and you can come and pick him up. Or we’ll drop him off at your place, whatever suits you best.”

Peter laughed just as he disappeared out of the reach of the camera. “He won’t come,” his voice took on saddened tone. “Nobody ever comes.” The bang of a door severed the connection with Tony.

“Weight your options – people you’ve never met and will never see or your own blood. Remember, Stark. Tomorrow. I’ll have a contract prepared. If not,” he shrugged, pursing his lips a little, “I have a few clients that would like to have some fun with him. But know this – you try something and the kid gets it.” Beck stared intently in Tony’s eyes before he went to shut down the call. “Janice!” he yelled and his image disappeared from the screens.

Nobody moved. They all quietly fumed. Tony growled and went to march out of the room.

“Wait, where are you going?” Rhodey asked, following him.

“To get my kid. Quentin Beck just signed his death certificate. He’s a damn fool if he thinks I’ll play by his rules. His tactics might work on others, but not on me! Let go of me!” Tony said, shaking off Steve’s hold. The man was voice of reason, but right now, Tony wished he would leave him alone.

“Tony, wait,” Pepper stood in front of him, worry pulling on her face. “You don’t even know where he is.”

“Peter said D.C.”

“But can you actually believe his words?” Clint challenged. “Look, man, I get you. I understand how you feel, but you have to understand too! You saw how he looked around that room. He was definitely seeing things that weren’t there.”

“Unless…” Natasha said in a tone that told everyone that she thought of something. She looked up at the occupants of the room. “Think about it. He was drugged out of his mind as Clint already pointed out to you. His brain could have mixed it up. And I probably know with what.”

“Well, if you know something, then spill it already!” Tony raised his voice. He was losing his cool.

“Beck has a mansion, around hundred miles from here. A house that is white and has a round balcony. I believe Peter saw that balcony from the other building Beck uses for deals and such.”

“Can you…?” Steve asked, tentatively.

Natasha nodded. “I know a person on the inside. I can ask for confirmation.” She narrowed her eyes at Tony as she stood up, shutting him up before he could snap at her again. The whole situation made her uneasy too but losing her composure wouldn’t help any of them at all. She stepped out of the room, her phone already in her hand.

“When you think about it,” Bucky said to break the silence, “the way Beck spoke, they had him for several hours for all of that to happen. You can’t get to D.C. that fast unless you go by plane. And even then, add the time it takes to get to and from the airport. The math doesn’t add up.”

Tony couldn’t take it anymore. He needed an output for the pent-up anger. With all his strength, he punched the wall. The action left him panting heavily and a bit of skin over his knuckles broke, but he felt somewhat better. He withed that wall was Beck’s face.

“Tony,” Pepper said softly and wrapped her arms around Tony’s torso. One of her hands reached to the back of his head and began to run her fingers through his hair. Tony rested his forehead on her shoulder. “Don’t worry, you’ll get him back. We’ll get him back,” she whispered.

“Damn right we will,” Tony replied. “And I will burn down everything and everyone standing in my way.” That was a promise.

“Nobody ever comes.”

Tony tried to block out the sentence and everything that had something to do with it. The pure resignation in Peter’s voice, the way his head and shoulders definitely fell, even though he couldn’t see it. He knew where to look for the culprits. He despised Richard and Mary with passion even more.

“He’s there,” Natasha walked back with serious expression. “My contact confirmed they brought in some teenage boy around four in the afternoon. From what they could see – curly brown hair and clothes matched with what Peter was wearing.”

That was all Tony needed to hear.

“No, Tony, you can’t just march in there like this,” Rhodey gripped Tony’s arm and dragged him towards the couch. “We need a plan.” When that didn’t help, Rhodey went for a spot that was sure to work. He made Tony look at him, making sure he was paying attention. “Think of Peter. If you just walk in there like this, you’ll get both of you killed!”

The sentence worked like a charm.

Tony took deep breath, counted to eight and exhaled, forcing himself to calm down as much as he could, even if he hated it. “All right.” Shadow of determination fell over his face. “Everyone to meeting room. Get Happy up here. Rogers, get that computer. Romanov, you show us on the map where that mansion is. And someone go check on Friday.”

No one got much sleep that night. They worked efficiently to make a plan to attack. Where their men were supposed to stand, studying the layout of the place…

They knew they had to succeed. The stakes were too high.

“Suit up.”

The morning arrived and Tony stood in front of the small army of trusted people that were going with them. Some were sent over from allied families that had kids to help that helped with search as well, all vouched for by their employers. Tony knew there will be more questions once the dust settles, that he won’t be able to keep this under wraps for too long, but he can deal with that once Peter is safe with him. He had his suit on with a bulletproof vest underneath. The look on his face promised revenge.

The car ride was tense. When they stopped where they wouldn’t be spotted, Tony was flanked from both sides by his team, his little army behind him. just to be a little extra, he had a table and a chair brought out, his fingers dancing across the keyboard as he disabled Beck’s security, which was child’s play.

“Shoot anything that belongs in this place and moves. You can kill anyone standing in your way, gun in their hand or not, but I want Beck alive.” He didn’t need to turn around to know his men understood. With one thought present in his head, Tony led the men towards the house.

Quentin Beck, this is your end.

 

Notes:

So, this came to me as giant surprise, but this work was nominated in Irondad Creators Awards 2021. I had no idea something like this existed, but to the person that deemed this fic worthy of the nomination – thank you. From the bottom of my heart, thank you so much. This made my whole week and I can’t stop smiling. I love you, random internet stranger. I love all of you. I have the best following an author can wish for.

(but let's talk about the chapter)

Chapter 20

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

The best way to summarize the atmosphere was a calm before storm.

Tony was almost disappointed. They’ve already gotten so far without needing to kill anyone. Beck’s security lacked greatly. Honestly, Tony wondered how it was even possible that nobody sneaked in here yet and finished the drug lord off.

Well, first time for everything.

The building where Peter was being held came in view. They still had the element of surprise on their side. Once Tony’s men are spotted, it all starts. He didn’t care. Let the fire rain.

Tony glanced around, checking if everyone on his side is ready – Happy’s group will storm the other building. He received confirming nods. “Hang on, kiddo. I’m coming,” he thought. With a wave of his hand, the group advanced, Tony and the rest of his team were in the middle. Still nothing.

The first shots rang out when the men in the front rounded the corner and came face to face with two of the guards standing at the entrance. Beck’s men fell, but more were sure to come, attracted like a moths to a flame. But there was still time until they mobilize. Tony narrowed his eyes. Let them come.

They swept in like a wave, taking the people inside by surprise. The men along with several members of the team split up, each focusing on their given task. Steve with small group was sent to find Beck. They sent him specifically because neither of the others would be able to hold back and not kill him on the spot. But nobody said he couldn’t rough him up a little. Clint perched himself up on the balcony, sniping anyone that tried to enter the building and didn’t belong with Stark bunch.

The race has begun.

Rhodey, standing at Tony’s side, reached into his pocket and took out sealed bag. Inside was a piece of sheet from Peter’s bed. Tony took it out, crouched and outreached his hand. “Find him, girl,” he said seriously.

Friday sniffed the piece of fabric, then sniffed the air. Her ears perked up as she began to bark like crazy. She took off running down one of the hallways, Bucky and Natasha right behind her. Tony and Rhodey went after them, knowing that they won’t be able to keep up with them, but the least they could do was to provide some cover from behind in case someone tried to sneak up on the two assassins and the dog.

 

“What the hell is going on?” Beck growled as he shoved one man aside to look at the screens.

“Sir, we’re under attack,” the man said fearfully.

Beck scanned the screens, his  blue eyes narrowing when he spotted familiar face. So, Stark thought he could just waltz in like that without repercussions. He’s about to prove him wrong.

“Oh, Tony, if only you would do what I asked you to. Now you’re making me kill a child. It’s your own fault your son has to die,” he said in mock sadness before his face turned stone-cold as he turned to another man standing behind him. “Go. You know what to do.”

The man nodded, took the things he needed and walked out through the door on the right. Stark wants a war? So be it.

Now with that out of the way… “Janice?” he called out, receiving no answer. Huh. Where’d she gone? “Janice!” Where was his damn assistant when he needed her? Beck took the door on the right, only for the exit to be blocked by blond man and a few more right behind him. Beck glanced over the man’s shoulder and… oh, there she was! On the ground and unmoving.

“You messed with the wrong family,” Steve said coldly before punching Beck in the face with enough force to send his sprawling on the floor.

 

Natasha and Bucky watched as Friday jumped at the door, scratching and pulling the handle before running inside. There! She found him. But the fact that the door was unlocked was worrying. The two glanced at each other and picked up the pace.

Barking and growling was soon followed by pained yell and string of curses. The voice was way too deep to be Peter’s.

The room was cold and dark, decorated with various stains, both of them knowing from practice where each one came from. They saw Friday with her teeth sunken in man’s arm, the same man that dragged Peter into the room during the call, then slapped him and dragged him away again. At his feet was Peter, lying motionlessly on his stomach, his face pressing against the floor.

Not wasting a moment, Bucky threw one of his knives with deadly accuracy right into the man’s neck. Even if they’d leave him be, there was no surviving that. But Natasha decided to finish the job. She snapped his neck, yanked the knife out as she sent the man’s body to the opposite corner of the room like a bag of trash.

“Here,” she said coolly, handing the bloodied knife back to its owner.

Friday’s quiet huffs filled the room while she nudged Peter’s face with her own. His eyes fluttered open, filling with confusion.

“Friday?” he rasped weakly. Peter was cold. He never did well in the cold. The cold reminded him of empty parking lot in front of the school and waiting for people that will never come. Was this another illusion? Was Friday really here? She felt real, but Peter knew that something was wrong, even if he didn’t know what exactly. He just knew that he couldn’t trust most of the – although blurry – things he saw.

Natasha clicked her tongue when she noticed a syringe sticking out of Peter’s arm, half of the substance still in there. Friday must’ve grabbed the man before he got it all in. She pulled it out and threw it aside, then pocketed the vial with the rest of the same substance that lied nearby.

One of Peter’s hands was chained to an old rusting pipe. “I’ll look for the key,” Bucky said and went to the cooling body.

Natasha gently turned Peter on his back. Friday didn’t stop her attempts to make him get up. “Peter, can you hear me?” she asked while she cupped his face to get a better look at him. With weak moan, Peter’s eyes found hers, but it was like he was looking straight through her.

“Found it!” Bucky exclaimed before muttering, “scum,” and giving the body last kick. A shiver ran through Peter’s body at the same time as the cuff released him. “Wait,” Bucky said, taking off his jacket, placing it under Peter before picking him up. The fact that he was like a ragdoll concerned them. “Cover us?”

Natasha nodded, her guns drawn.

 

“Tony.”

Tony’s running faltered at Steve’s voice in his ear. “Yeah?” Steve had that coldness in his voice that appeared rarely. Others must have heard it too through their shared channel.

“We’ve got him. We’re heading to the lounge.”

There was a faint sound of struggle in the background followed by a grunt. So, they caught that bastard.

“We’ll be right there. But we still haven’t found—”

“Stark, go. Barnes and I are heading there too. We’ve got him,” came Natasha’s voice. Before Tony could ask more, she shut off her end.

A hand landed on Tony’s shoulder, squeezing. “Come on, man. They’ve got him,” Rhodey looked at him in reassurance.

Tony felt a wave of relief wash over him. They’ve got him. Peter was safe. However, the calmness remained for about five seconds before a flame lit up in his chest with renewed anger. “Yeah. Let’s go,” he said through gritted teeth. He’s got a scum to deal with.

Corner of his lips quirked up in satisfaction when the first sight that greeted him was Steve punching Beck in the face. Tony walked over, the people parting in front of him to make room. He wasn’t usually doing this, but he’ll make an exception this one time. His hands curled into fists, each of them switching in connecting with Beck’s face. The way he grunted and his whipped to the side was satisfying. This felt way better that that wall.

“Bold of you to come here,” Beck had the audacity to talk back. “You might have gotten in, but you won’t be walking out of here alive.” He let out crazed chuckle.

“All levels clear,” came from a walkie-talkie attached to Rhodey’s belt. That was Happy’s voice.

“Clint?”

“All clear here too.”

Tony’s face was full of smugness. “You were saying?” He smiled wider at Beck’s glare. “Honestly, how stupid can you be? You drug my dog, you drug my kid and you think you will live to see next sunset? Think again.”

“Too bad you were too late,” Beck smiled at him. “I must say, I’m impressed you managed to hide him for that long. Unfortunately, it wasn’t enough to protect him. How sad, even if there wasn’t much to be proud of—"

He didn’t get to finish the sentence as the words turned into screams and straining against the bonds. Tony’s face turned to stone as he let go of the button, cutting off the electricity and leaving Beck panting. “Thank you for volunteering for testing out the taser my son built out of electric toothbrush. He built it out of electric toothbrush with almost no tools the first time. There’s plenty to be proud of.”

“Your son is dead and it’s your fault!” Beck laughed.

For a moment, Tony didn’t think. He took out his gun, a click was heard and he aimed at Beck’s head.

“Stark!”

Tony glanced over his shoulder, lowering his gun when his eyes landed on Bucky.

“Not now. Not with him here,” he glanced down at Peter who began to look around as he gained more awareness.

Tony put the gun away. Peter’s eyes met his. With his own eyes, Tony motioned for Rhodey and a few others to step in his place to shield Beck from Peter’s view as he walked over to check on the boy.

“Hey kiddo,” he said softly. “You’re okay now.” He received tiniest nod in response.

“Even if he’s still alive, do you think the damage hasn’t been already done?” Beck yelled. “Everyone will know! You won’t be able to keep this under wraps like you did until now!”

“Give him here,” Tony reached for his son when he let out quiet whimper at the yelling. He held him even closer when Peter instinctively leaned into his warmth, Bucky adjusting the jacket around his frame. Why was the kid so cold?

Natasha took out the vial from her pocket and held it out for Tony to see. “They wanted to overdose him with this,” she spoke quietly. “By the time we got there, the trash managed to give him half of a full syringe. If it wasn’t for Friday, everything would be in his body.” She put the vial in one of Tony’s pocket. “Go. He needs treatment. We’ll take care of this.”

Tony turned to Rhodey, his body angled so that Peter couldn’t see most of the things. “You heard that, Honeybear? They’ve got drugs in here. I’m pretty sure you know some people that would like to know about this. Drugs are very bad after all. And as for you,” he turned to Beck, “I didn’t know about him until like a week ago. But it’s not like you’ll live to tell that to anyone,” he spat out.

“So, kid’s a bastard then? What, past mistakes came to haunt you?” Beck laughed. He had no time to react before Bucky took out his knife and plunged the blade into his arm. His scream was cut off by Natasha’s punch to his face, followed by Steve hitting his stomach.

“He’s not a mistake,” Tony’s voice was leveled. “He’s mine.”

If Bucky’s look could kill, Beck would drop dead on the spot. “You mess with one of us, you mess with all of us.”

“Make an example out of him.” To make it slow and painful went unsaid, but they knew. With that, Tony spun around and motioned for Clint on the balcony to follow him. Both of the men wished to finish the job, or at least to help, but they’ve got different priority. Knife buddies and Steve would be enough.

“Wait,” Clint said, run up to Beck, punched him and ran back. At Tony’s questioning look, he simply shrugged. “I wanted to get my turn.”

Clint drove while Tony sat in the back, never letting go of his son. He gently rocked him back and forth, murmuring silent reassurances.

“You came.”

Tony almost flinched at the quiet voice. He looked down and saw Peter lift his gaze to meet his eyes, his first action in the ten minutes they were in the car. He gave the boy reassuring smile. “Of course I came. I will never ever let anyone take you away from me again.” There was a brief pause. “How are you feeling?”

“Hungry,” Peter mumbled.

Tony nodded to himself. “Okay. What do you want to eat when we arrive? Anything you want.”

The boy seemed deep in thought before he decided. “Cheeseburger,” he said and Tony along with Clint couldn’t stop their snickering. Yeah, he really was his son.

“Fine. Cheeseburger it is.”

Peter let out a sound of acknowledgement. “Where are we going?” he asked as his eyes began to droop again.

“We’re going home.”

“No,” Peter protested weakly. “Not home. ‘s so empty. And lonely. Not even a pet there.”

“No, we’re not going to that apartment. We’re going to the compound. It’s not lonely there.”

“Keep him talking,” Clint glanced at them through rearview mirror. He didn’t need to be told to go fast. He – well, Tony – paid for the whole speedometer, so he’s gonna use the whole speedometer. Good thing there weren’t as many cars – thank you Rhodey for closing some roads – but any faster and the car would take off like a plane. Normally, he would drive responsibly with a child in a car, but when he imagined his own child in Peter’s place…

“Okay,” he replied and hugged Peter closer, placing his chin on the boy’s head. “Uh, what kind of pet do you want? I’m pretty sure we can arrange something.”

Peter let out another thoughtful hum. “Maybe a cat? No, Friday’s a dog, that wouldn’t probably work. A gecko? Geckos are cool, they can climb walls and stick to things and stuff. But not spiders. Spiders are creepy.”

“You have time to decide, no rush.”

“I don’t feel so good,” Peter sighed.

“I know, buddy. I know.”

“I’m sorry.”

“This again?” Tony chuckled nervously. “You have nothing to be sorry for. This wasn’t your fault in any shape or form, you hear?”

No response. “Peter?” His eyes were shut and his breaths were slow. “Peter?” Tony raised his voice. Still nothing. “Come on, kid, answer me!” he shook him, to no avail. He pressed two fingers against his neck and felt his stomach drop.

“What’s happening?” Clint asked, concerned.

“His pulse is slowing down… oh God, no. Kid, no, don’t do this to me. Please. Open your eyes, talk to me, anything!”

Clint’s grip on the steering wheel turned vice-like. “Hang on, both of you, we’re almost there. Ten more minutes.”

He hoped it will be enough.

Notes:

Bye Beck! You won't be missed.

Okay, before you throw me off a cliff for the cliffhanger, I just had to end it here, alright? But to pass the time until Friday - may I interest you in a oneshot I posted yesterday? We all love Irondad, that's why we're all here... but what about villain Irondad and hero Spiderson? Would that be enough as a peace offering?

Or you know what? You can't throw me off a cliff if I yeet myself off it first! HA! TAKE THAT, READERS! YOU'LL NEVER GET ME ALIVE!

Chapter 21

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

Tony abruptly stood up from a chair in front of the med-bay. He paced the width of the hallway, his hands running through his hair in frustration. This was taking too long. Why was it taking that long? The worry and fear clawed at his chest. He was growing restless.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

The quiet ticking was getting on his nerves. It reminded him of those agonizing moments in the car. With every minute of the ride, Peter’s pulse was growing weaker and weaker. No matter how much Tony pleaded with the boy, he didn’t open his eyes. He was so still and pale.

Tick. Tock.

What the world had come to. Him, Tony Stark, the most powerful man in New York, pleading.

Tick. Tock.

Low growl escaped Tony’s mouth. If it wasn’t for the fact that Peter was behind that door, Tony would have shot at that damn clock to shut it up. But he couldn’t risk startling Strange. Not with his son’s life on the line.

They arrived a little under ten-minute mark. Just a millisecond after the car came to halt, Clint basically launched himself out of it and opened the door for Tony. Both of them knew they couldn’t waste a single second. Strange was waiting for them in front of the med-bay, along with Pepper and some nurse that worked as medic for personnel in the other wing.

Strange assured Tony that she’s there only to assist him, pass some things around and that he will be the one taking care of Peter. After quick explaining of what happened and taking out the vial with the drug, Tony literally had to be dragged out of the room by Clint. Something about Tony being too distracting and being in the way.

Pepper held him in her arms, gently running her hand through Tony’s hair. It helped a little, but not much. She was worried too.

Tick. Tock.

“Damn it!” Tony gritted out through his teeth. The anger was bubbling inside of him once again. He should have finished Beck off himself. There was no way the team was done with him yet. But he couldn’t just up and go over there. No, this was all his fault. He should have gotten rid of that bastard long time ago. All of this could be avoided if he did.

He was itching for a drink.

“Shh!” Clint shushed, “keep it down. They need to work in silence.”

With harsh sigh, Tony plopped down on the chair – like he did countless times in those hours they’d spent here already. “What do you suggest then?” Tony snapped, but kept his voice down. “It’s been hours, Barton. Hours! And nobody told us anything about the state he’s in!” Tony straightened his back. “I’m gonna ask.”

“No, you won’t,” Clint grabbed his boss’ arm before he could stand up. “Just let them work. I know you’re worried, but there’s nothing you can do right now about that. All you can do is trust in Strange’s abilities.”

All fight left Tony with next exhale. Elbows on his knees, he hid his face into his palms. Clint was right. “This is all my fault.”

“What? Tony, that’s not true,” Pepper said.

“Boss, I know that you love to blame yourself for everything, but right now, you should take your own words that you said to Peter to heart. This wasn’t your fault.”

“You- but it—” at the harsh looks Tony received, he lowered his voice, “but it was. Just look at the history of people that got involved with me – Pepper almost got hurt, Happy actually got hurt and almost died, hell, even you got almost killed. All of you got hurt because of me. And now Peter…”

“Don’t let what that maniac told you to get under your skin,” Clint frowned. “Once this is over—"

Tony scoffed. “You think Peter will want to have anything to do with me after all this?”

“So you want to send him back to his “parents”? Or to be more precise, to that empty apartment? To live on his own again?” Tony’s silence was enough of an answer.

Pepper took over from there. “Do you remember what you said after the shooting?” she asked softly.

“No.”

“You said that you feel like you could protect him the best and put him in danger the most.”

“And I put him in danger—”

“But you also protected him!” she cut him off sternly. “You rushed in there and saved him. Like you did for me those years ago,” she cupped Tony’s face and smiled. “If anything, I think you’ll be amazing father. You’ve already proved it. You’ll do great.”

Tony blinked several times. “You know, I just realized that I never talked properly about this with you. It involves you too. God, I’m so stupid.”

Pepper laughed. “Yes. And we will talk, but there will be time for that later. When Peter’s better.” She knew there was no use in having this conversation with distraught Tony. “For now, you’ll have to realize that a child’s arrival will change things around here.” She gave him another smile. “I’ll bring you two something to eat,” she said, got up and left.

“There’ll be a lot of cleaning up to do in near future,” Tony sighed and buried his face in his hands.

Clint didn’t remember the last time he saw Tony this distraught, but he understood how he felt. “You know,” he began slowly, “this reminds me of that time I was in the hospital waiting room similar to this one, waiting for Cooper to get out of the surgery.”

He saw Tony’s body slightly shift, indicating that he was listening. “He’d complained of stomachache. At that time, this stomach bug was going around, so we thought it was that. Just a bug. But then it got worse and worse, and he was in so much pain he could barely move. So, we rushed him to a hospital. Turns out his appendix ruptured. They took him to surgery right away.”

Tony’s shoulders sagged a little. He welcomed the distraction.

“I think I’ve never been so scared in my life before. Not when my car was getting shot at. Not when I was staring down the loaded gun. Those moments were one of the worst. I felt hopeless. Then they told us he was gonna be okay. That just comes with kids. They are your world, and you would do anything for them. You worry. That’s what comes with parenthood.”

“Does it really never go away?” Tony asked after a brief pause.

Clint chuckled. “God, no. It will be always present – whether it’s just scrapped knee when they are little, flu or something else. But…” his gaze slid from the door to Tony, “you’ll learn to live with it. You do your best to prepare them for life, you teach them how to look out for themselves… then the feeling will lessen, but it will never go away completely.” Clint smiled to himself. “That’s kinda the hard part of parenthood. But in the end, it’s all worth it.”

“Yeah. I guess so.” But to think that Peter had to learn how to look out for himself without any guide from adults that were supposed to love him…

“Peter will be fine. He’s got your genes and look at you. After all these attempts on your life you still refuse to kick the bucket,” Clint joked. It earned him a slap on his arm, but seeing Tony crack the tiniest of smiles was worth it.

“Oh, shut up.”

Clint gave him a shove back. “What? It’s true and you know it.”

Some of the tension left the room, making it a little easier to breathe. Comfortable silence fell over them. Tony didn’t even mind the ticking. But that clock is going away anyway. It will be replaced by digital one, like the one inside the med-bay.

The door opened, making Tony shot to his feet. The nurse walked out, giving him curt nod as she passed them. Tony knew they started to bring in men that were injured during the rescue, so it was all hands on deck.

Stephen stood in the doorway, motioning for him to enter. Tony clenched his hands to stop them from shaking as he entered the room. Clint remained hovering in the doorway, not wanting to intrude but needing to make sure Peter was fine so he could let others know.

Tony’s next inhale was shaky. Peter was laid on the bed, dressed in hospital gown with oxygen mask over his face that was fogging with his every exhale and IV connected to his arm. He closed his eyes when he heard one particular sound. The steady beeping of heart monitor. He’d never thought he would hear sound so comforting. Because that was Peter’s heart, beating steadily.

“How is he?” Tony asked, hiding all of his emotions behind a mask. He was successful only partially.

“It was a touch and go for a while—”

“What? What do you mean touch and go?” Tony hissed.

 “Mainly because it took it some time for the medicine to reverse the effects of the drugs,” Strange continued, ignoring the interruption. “He was dehydrated, but not injured in any other way. He’s young. He’ll recover.”

Rushed clicking of heels could be heard coming from the hallway. Tony didn’t need to turn around to know that Pepper was now standing in the doorway next to Clint.

Stephen continued. “I did all that could be done, the rest is up to Peter. He will be asleep for some time so that his body can flush out the rest of the drugs. I’ll remain here to keep an eye on him, change the IV bags and monitor his vitals.”

Tony kept making tiny nods, stopping when his eyes that were looking everywhere else but at the doctor landed on Peter. “Okay.” The relief Tony felt… it was like he could take proper deep breath since yesterday. Was it really just twenty-four hours? It felt like forever.

Taking several steps closer, Tony was standing above the boy, studying his face. Peter looked so peaceful, like he was only taking a nap, not being forced into one. At least there were no bruises on his face.

Nobody said anything. Stephen watched Tony’s gaze fixed on the boy. He felt like he should leave now to give him some privacy. The display was so unlike of Tony Stark he came to know over the years he worked for him.

“Doctor Strange, would you like a cup of coffee and join us for a lunch? Pepper asked, providing the perfect opportunity to leave.

“Thank you, Ms. Potts. I would love to,” Stephen replied.

“Strange,” Tony called out before the other man could walk away. His back was facing the group and his head slightly lowered. When he heard Stephen stop, he spoke in hushed tone. “Thanks.”

“Okay, who are you and what have you done with Tony Stark?” Stephen asked, half-joking but still taken aback. “The real Stark never said thank you.”

“Get out of here before I change my mind,” Tony grumbled.

Stephen chuckled. “That’s more like it. And… you’re welcome.” Who would have thought that a single child could have such effect on seasoned mobster? So, the ruthless man did have a heart after all. Funny how things can change in one week.

Tony felt gentle hand land on his shoulder when the room emptied. “Do you want to go upstairs to eat with us?” Pepper asked.

“No. I’ll stay here. He needs me.”

Pepper hummed. “Okay,” she gently kissed him on the cheek while holding him in side-hug.

Tony looked at Pepper when she took one of his hands and made him hold a plate. Oh, right. She went to get the food for Clint and him.

“But you need to eat, so, here. I’ll bring you some coffee too.”

“You’re the best.”

She squeezed his hand before she left, gently closing the door behind her. Once again, the only sound that could be heard was the steady beeping of the heart monitor.

Tony sighed, placed the plate on the bedside table next to the bed and went to retrieve the chair from the corner. Before he sat down, Tony pulled the blanket that was covering half of Peter’s body to just below his shoulders. He remembered how cold Peter was. He didn’t want him to be cold. Should he cover him up to his neck? Or get an extra blanket? He knew there were more blankets in the cabinet.

Sitting down, Tony took ahold of Peter’s hand. Hesitantly at first, as if the boy would break or dissipate at the touch. But none of that happened. He gently gripped the hand, closing his eyes at the warmth.

“I’m sorry this happened. This is my fault,” Tony spoke quietly. He knew it will take some time for Peter to wake up, but it felt like he would disturb his son if he spoke too loudly. With his free hand, Tony reached over and brushed some of the curls from Peter’s eyes. The curls he got from his father, just like his eyes and several other features.

There was that flash of seeing himself in the boy when Steve carried him in here for the first time, but how come he didn’t notice the striking resemblance at the first sight?

“But you did so well, and I couldn’t be prouder. You’re a fighter, I can tell. You will get through this. And I will be there every for step of the way. I’ll make sure you’ll never have to be alone again, I promise.”

His stomach growled and that was when Tony remembered that the last time he ate was early in the morning. Since he didn’t even sleep for more that one hour, the team threatened to leave him behind if he didn’t get at least something inside of him, so he took a few bites to satisfy them. With the adrenaline fading, he could feel the fatigue set in.

Tony glanced at the sandwich and remembered that Peter said he was hungry too before he fell unconscious. His gaze slid to the IV bag. Well, Peter was getting everything he needed from that. Tony should eat too.

His eyes began to droop by the time he finished. There couldn’t be possibly any harm in closing his eyes for a bit. Tony run his thumb over Peter’s hand as he placed his other arm on the bed and lowered his head in the crook of his elbow. Yeah, he’ll close his eyes for a few minutes.

“Don’t worry, Pete, no rush for you to wake up. You can take all the time you want. I’ll be here.”

Notes:

Some Tony self-blaming for you. Next up - fluff.

(holy shit, have you guys seen ep.3 of TFATWS? I can't even- 🤣certain scenes had me dying of laughter)

Chapter 22

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Okay, it turned out Peter was really taking his time to wake up. It’s been a little over thirty-five hours since Tony sat down on the chair. He kept his promise of not leaving Peter’s side. Tony busied himself with writing codes for his AI and dealing with phone calls that congratulated him on his son. Some people… misunderstood and sent diapers and a teddy bears as a gift. He even planned an operation to bust Stane from Shield facility during the transport. Yes, it will cost him bigger half of his moles, but what other option he had?

Strange came and went as he changed the empty bags and checked Peter’s vitals. He even placed a bucket under the bed that was within Tony’s reach. Something about possibly needing it later.

The rest of the team came to visit several times a day, either as a group, in pairs or alone, offering to stay with Peter while Tony got proper sleep in a proper bed. Tony refused every time despite his back killing him. Sure, he could have another hospital bed brought in here, but he didn’t want to risk Peter waking up and be met with that sight. Based on how he reacted to Tony and the graze from the bullet, the reaction wouldn’t be pretty.

Tony felt satisfaction when Bucky, Natasha and Steve showed him a picture after they were done with Beck – it’s been a while they got to make what they dubbed as pincushion.

The message was sent. And hey, they even made it to the news. Well, not exactly since the law enforcements had no idea, but the world traveled in their circles. Enough evidence was found to start massive arrests of Beck’s associates and his clients.

Tony wasn’t surprised when he learned that some politicians were arrested as well for seeking out other services Beck provided. Sick people the bunch of them, really. That’s probably why there was so much evidence lying around. Beck was counting on his buddies in high positions to cover for him.

Beck’s empire fell. It left a power vacuum behind and fights were sure to break out if there was no one in charge. Luckily, Tony knew just the people. The Maximoff family, as Tony’s trusty allies, will take over. It might be a big jump for them, as they were smaller family, but Tony was willing to help them with staying in control. Besides, their twins were around Peter’s age if he remembered correctly. Maybe they could be friends? And T’Challa had a sister too, right? From what Tony knew about Peter, he had only two friends at school. He could use some more.

It was almost evening. Another bag was changed, the oxygen mask was replaced with nasal cannula and Friday was shooed out of the room by irritated Strange. She came to check on Peter as well. She even went as far as jumping on the bed, carefully, of course, and resting her head on Peter’s chest.

Tony tried to get her down, but she actually let out quiet bark, mindful to not disturb Peter when Tony started to push her away. He actually placed his hand over his chest in offence when she did that. But she earned herself another steak for saving Peter.

Now it was just the two of them again.

“You know, the other day you asked me what I wanted from you,” Tony began, breaking the silence. “I was thinking about it, unable to wrap my head around it. Then all this mess went down… and I think I finally figured it out.”

Tony held Peter’s hand in both of his. “Let me tell you a story from my life. Ever since I was little, I was told that Stark men are made of iron. That having feelings was a weakness. Yeah, my father wasn’t very good at the whole parent thing. I wonder why mom stayed with him. So, I shut everyone out. The only friend I had was Rhodey. We met in school and he’s a saint for putting up with me back then.”

Smile pulled at Tony’s lips when he remembered all the shenanigans they pulled back then.

“Then came Happy as my bodyguard and Pepper as my assistant in the company. And I had no idea how, but suddenly I had three people in my heart. I thought that, okay, not bad. I mean, my old man had to feel something towards my mom and there was his friend…”

Tony scrunched his nose. He’s not going to talk about that now.

“But then came more and more people and now we’re a family. It was an alien feeling… to let people close, to love them. But don’t tell I said that – not even Natasha, because she would tell Steve, Steve would tell Bucky, Bucky would tell Sam and he would broadcast it to everyone. They would never let me live that down.”

He rested his cheek against the hands as he stared ahead. “And then you came. I was scared that I would mess up even more than I already did, that my heart was already at full capacity, but you somehow squeezed right in.”

And it feels right.

“So, all I want from you is to be happy. The protection, the love – leave that to me. I’ll do everything in my power to be the best dad to you that I can be. I just hope you don’t mind sharing the space with others.”

“Like a pizza.”

The mumbled sentence made Tony snap his head to look at Peter’s face. His eyes were closed. Was it his imagination?

“What?” he asked and felt his heart flutter when he got a mumbled response.

“Like a pizza. Each of us is a slice. Together we make whole pizza, and you are the box.”

One of Peter’s eyes cracked open and Tony felt like he could cry. He was pretty sure he made a sound between laugh and a sob. But he didn’t care.

Peter blinked several times, then his eyes curiously roamed around the room before his gaze landed on Tony. It was obvious the kid was pretty out of it.

“Hey, Pete,” Tony said softly. He reached over to the wall and pressed the call button to alert Strange.

“Hello.”

Peter’s head lolled to the side. Small frown appeared on his face when he noticed the IV sticking out of his arm.

“Hey, no, no, no,” Tony said as he stopped Peter from pulling the needle out. However, that didn’t stop Peter. When Tony let go of his hand, Peter reached for the thing again. “No touchy. That has to stay in.”

“Dad,” Peter let out pitiful whine and moved his hand again, this time towards his face, reaching for the cannula.

Tony’s heart skipped a beat before he snapped back from the euphoria. “That has to stay in too.” Peter let out defeated huff. “How are you feeling?”

“Ugh,” Peter replied.

“That’s understandable. We gotta stop doing this whole waking up in a med-bay thing. Twice in a little over a week. You set up a record here.”

Silly smile spread across Peter’s face. “Yay! I win.”

Tony chuckled. “No,” he shook his head.

Strange walked in, followed by entourage of the whole team that remained near the doorway.

“Hello, Peter.”

Peter looked intently at the group before he turned to Tony again with serious expression. “Whole pizza’s here.”

The comment earned a few laughs. Peter not understanding what was funny, copied the behavior after a few seconds.

“What does that mean?”

“Nothing! Kid’s higher than a kite,” Tony quickly responded.

Tony caught Pepper’s look. He couldn’t help but notice the tightness around her eyes and lips. Something was bothering her. At his questioning gaze, she mouthed ‘later’.

The truth was… she found something she was pretty sure she shouldn’t have. Then she met Happy who found the person behind the shooting. And the thing that Pepper found solidified everything.

“Are we having a sleepover?” Peter asked when the laughter died down. “Let’s play Twister!”

“Maybe later,” Stephen replied. “How are you feeling?”

“Hm,” Peter pretended to be deep in thought. “Dad asked the same thing, you know?” Several gasps could be heard. And then Peter went completely off tracks. “El Tratado de Versalles fue el más importante de los tratados de paz que pusieron fin a la Primera Guerra Mundial. El Tratado puso fin al estado de guerra entre—”

“Is that… Spanish?” Steve asked.

“Treaty of Versailles?” Rhodey followed.

Stephen sighed. “Okay, Peter, I understand that the history is interesting, but let’s get back to more important things right now.”

“Okay.”

There was that word again. Dad. Tony’s heart filled with joy. He felt like he could burst from happiness. He completely tuned out the questions Strange asked. He only snapped back to attention when Peter suddenly stopped talking. His eyes widened by fraction and he took deep, shuddering breath.

“Peter?”

“I-I…” his mouth barely moved. “Dad, I don’t feel so good.”

Yeah, the bucket will be put to good use. Peter managed to roll himself on the side, Tony quickly placing the bucket in front of him. Peter shoved his face inside.

“Oh, buddy. Let it all out. That’s it,” Tony rubbed soothing circles on Peter’s back. “You think you’re done?” Tony asked and when he got weak nod in response, he lowered the bucket and held the cup to Peter’s lips. “Slowly.” Peter flushed his mouth several times before he took tiny sips. After that, he practically collapsed back down on the bed.

When Tony looked up, he was met with fond looks. Yeah, he kinda forgot he wasn’t alone in the room. Better to make things right before they decide to tease him about it. “Rhodey, you’ve got the most experience out of everyone here,” he grinned as he held out the bucket towards him. “Be a dear and get rid of this.” Tony gave his best friend a smile that left no room for arguing.

Rhodey reluctantly walked over and took the bucket. “Great, now I took care of second generation of Starks. I’m honored, really. I believe I deserve two points for this,” he grumbled under his breath, which earned him teasing laughs as he passed the rest of the team. “Maybe I’ll take care of third generation too if I’m lucky.”

Stephen’s voice cut through the room. “I want him to stay here overnight at least. If his results are good in the morning you can move him upstairs on the condition that he will take it easy and you’ll keep an eye on him.”

“Thank you, Mr. doctor,” Peter said.

“You’re welcome. Stark, are you sure he is yours? I mean – he’s so unlike you. He’s got manners.”

“Hey, Mr. doctor?” Peter said before Tony could butt in. “What’s your… specialty?”

Despite the strange wording, Stephen understood. “I’m a surgeon.”

“Hm. So you stab people to life,” Peter concluded. “Did you stab me to life too?”

“No. But I stabbed your father to life before.”

“You also never told me your name, you know?”

“It’s Strange.”

“Yeah. I know! Aren’t doctors supposed to introduce themselves?”

“I take it back. He’s yours.”

“Damn right he is.”

Natasha gasped. “Steve, a bad word. And in a presence of a child.”

Steve looked up to the ceiling in exasperation. An argument was about to break out. Tony was ready to add fuel to the fire when something touched his hand. He looked down to see Peter lacing their fingers and dragging their joined hands towards his chest. Peter turned to his side again, trapping Tony’s whole forearm between his own arm and under his chin. He let out giant yawn.

“Tired?”

“Mm.”

“That’s okay. You can go to sleep. I’ll be right here.” Tony cleared his throat, shutting the argument down. A pity, it could be amusing. But his kid comes first.

Peter let out content sigh as his eyes began do close. “You’re way nicer that the other dad. Thank you.” He played with their fingers for a few moments, oblivious to Tony’s sadness that Peter felt like he had to thank him for being good father. That didn’t last long. “You are my dad… you’re my dad! Boggie woogie woogie,” he muttered and his eyes closed.

Confused Tony turned his head to face others. “What does that mean?” he whispered.

“That was a vine,” Clint replied.

Tony looked at him, not understanding what a plant had to do with that.

“I’ll explain later.”

“All right, everybody out. Let the patient rest,” Stephen said, ushering them outside.

“Wait!” Tony whisper-shouted. “I need to talk to Pepper, privately. Could some of you take my place for a few minutes?”

The group debated briefly (read - played rock-paper-scissors) and, in the end, Steve emerged victorious. Tony slipped from Peter’s grasp, being immediately replaced by new arm. Peter shuffled in his sleep as he adjusted his hold on new arm before finally setting in.

“So, what’s the cause of the frown?” Tony asked once they were far enough from the room. Pepper wordlessly passed him her tablet. Tony raised one brow at her but turned his gaze to the opened document. He scanned the pages, fury growing inside of him with every word he read.

That bastard.

“Tones? What’s wrong?” Rhodey walked over with clean bucket in hand. Just a few minutes before he was all soft and gentle, and now he looked like he was ready to murder somebody.

“Get Happy. Assembly in an hour. I want everybody there,” he gritted out before he turned to Pepper. “Would you mind staying with Peter for a while?”

 

“Gentlemen,” Tony’s voice boomed in the big hall full of men, all unarmed. “Now, let’s not waste any more time and get to the point.” Tony casually strolled in front of the crowd, smiling and letting his intimidating aura fall over them.

“As you might know, there’s been an attempt on my life recently. And the person would’ve succeeded if it wasn’t for my son. Yes, some of you already know about him, but that’s beside the point.” Tony watched the crowd shift, but nobody spoke.

“Well,” he clasped his hands together, “imagine my surprise when I found out who wanted me dead.” The easy-going smile was replaced by cold expression. “The people I took in when they had nothing, the very mouths I fed turned on me. I don’t appreciate that.”

Clapping twice, the double door behind him opened and six people tied to the chairs were dragged in. They looked a little (a lot) worse for wear. Tony let the crowd soak in the sight.

“You all know whose men these are. There were two more, but they did the smart thing and spilled everything, so I granted them quick end. As of now, that man’s name won’t be spoken under this roof ever.

A revolver was placed in Tony’s hand. “Let’s play a game of good old Russian roulette. But let’s spice it up, change the rules a bit.” Tony opened the barrel and took out a single bullet. “I’m feeling merciful, so five of you will be granted quick death and our lucky winner will undergo a treatment from our Kinfe buddies. Wow, two pincushions in such a short span of time. So lucky.”

Tony removed the safety. Bang. Bang. Bang. Click. Bang. Bang.

“Keep this in mind,” he addressed the crowd, “in case you think about trying something.” The screams of unlucky winner faded as he was dragged to the basement. “I’m extending my mercy even more!” Tony smiled. “If some of you are doing something behind my back, you have time to run because I’ll know by the end of next week.” He gave the crowd one last look. “That is all.”

“What now?” Rhodey asked when they were alone in the hallway.

“Get Wilson on the line.”

Notes:

You can imagine Beck's torture as the trio screaming "Don't touch the child!" (the same way as the monsters in Underpants parody) at him while they made a pincushion out of him. And even though I don't speak Spanish, I found it hilarious when I saw a FMA shot where the dog randomly recited the Wikipedia article on the treaty of Versailles.

I hope you enjoyed my lame attempts at humor. Have a nice day.

Chapter 23

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

“Where’s dad?”

The sleep-heavy whisper made Pepper turn. Peter’s drowsy eyes were scanning the room before they landed on her again.

Pepper’s face softened. She gave the boy kind smile, mindful to keep her voice low. “He’ll be right back, he just needed to take care of something real quick.” The answer seemed to satisfy him as he gave tired nod in return. “Do you feel better?”

Peter blinked twice. “I… don’t know. Jus’ want to… sleep, I guess.”

“Then close your eyes,” Pepper said, but Peter seemed to have different plans. He kept staring at Pepper with small thoughtful frown. Pepper leaned closer, her head cocking to the side slightly. “Something on your mind?”

Peter looked thoughtful for a few seconds before he decided to speak. “Are you my mom now?”

It was Pepper’s turn to blink in confusion. “W-what?”

“He’s my dad. And you have a ring on your finger,” Peter explained, misinterpreting the reaction. “So, does that mean you’re my new mom?”

Something in Pepper’s chest shifted. It felt like warmth and surge of protectiveness coiled around her heart. The reason? The vulnerability in Peter’s voice. Pepper swallowed the lump in her throat that threatened to choke her. “I-I… yes, of course. If you want me to, that is,” she quickly added.

“I do,” Peter smiled, his eyelids lowering in content when Pepper began to run her fingers through his hair. “You’re cool. MJ says you’re cool too.”

“Thank you. Why don’t you go back to sleep? You’ll feel better in the morning.”

Peter let his eyes slid shut. “’kay. ‘night.”

“Goodnight,” Pepper whispered, even though she knew the boy didn’t hear. But she kept running her fingers through the curls.

“It’s not every day you see Pepper Potts stammer.”

Tony was leaning on the doorway, his arms crossed and soft smile on his face. Pepper’s shock wore off as fast as it appeared.

“How long have you been standing there?”

“Long enough,” he shrugged and sat down next to her. “I guess we talk now.”

“Yes, we do.”

“Are you really okay with this?”

Pepper sighed and glanced at the sleeping boy. She knew both of them were in too deep. “I’ve never imagined myself as a mother yet, but if something… I’m happy it’s him.” She leaned her head on Tony’s shoulder. “I just hope I’ll do good job.”

Tony kissed her hair. “You’ll do great.”

“Same as you. It suits you – being soft like this. It did you good.”

“Don’t go saying that around,” Tony chuckled. “I’ve got a reputation of a heartless man to uphold.”

“Hm. That might be true, but the proof that Tony Stark has a heart is right here.” Comfortable silence briefly hung in the air. “But he can’t stay here.” She felt Tony tense. “That came out poorly, let me rephrase it.” She looked in Tony’s eyes before continuing. “He can’t stay here in the compound. You do your business here. Peter will eventually have to leave that room and I know you want to keep him safe, but... He’s got no personal belongings here except the blanket and his backpack with clothes.”

Tony opened his mouth, but Pepper didn’t allow him to speak. “I know what you’re going to say. Tony, even if you get him things, this place is secluded from the city where he has friends and school. He needs freedom. A golden cage is still a cage.”

Yeah, he saw the point. Tony thought back to his childhood – he didn’t have much freedom. The mistakes won’t be repeated. “So, he gets a nice room in the tower. We get him… uh…” he glanced helplessly at his fiancé who smiled in return.

“Leave it to me. Next thing – this is still technically a kidnapping. Even if,” she paused, bitter anger bubbling in her stomach, “even if the Parkers probably left him here for dead, we need to cover our bases.”

Tony scrunched his nose. “Can we please deal with that after the whole Stane situation? I swear I’ll deal with it once I get the confirmation from Sam.”

Pepper sighed harshly but didn’t press. “Okay. Now we discuss the rules.”

 

“So, there will be no lingering aftereffects?” Tony asked.

“From physical aspect? No. From mental? It would probably be smart to get him a therapist.”

Ha, jokes on Strange! He had no idea Peter’s already getting a therapist. Yeah… it would be funny if Tony wasn’t one of the reasons for Peter needing a therapist. But Peter didn’t know about that yet. Tony had to call Bruce.

It was kind of funny story – despite Bruce’s insistence that he wasn’t a therapist, Tony kept making impromptu sessions with him since the man was discreet. At one point Bruce gave up, told himself might as well and now he’s got another degree in psychology.

“Thank you, doctor Strange,” Peter mumbled as he rubbed his eyes. God, he was tired. But he was also tired of the white walls here.

Peter had no idea of he was seeing things, but he could swear he saw the man give him tiny, genuine smile. “You’re welcome. I must say – you were probably one of my best patients, even thought this isn’t my field, as I, you know, stab people to life,” he smirked, which earned him embarrassed groan from the teen.

Peter didn’t remember much of what he’d said or done when he woke up yesterday. Which kind of scared him. He was sure there will be some level of teasing once he steps in the common room.

But what he did remember was waking up in unfamiliar room, surrounded by strangers. He was sitting opposite of a man with blue eyes and a beard, a woman standing little further behind him. The man seemed friendly at first, but that façade quickly dropped when he began asking questions Peter couldn’t answer. Then there was a sting, then another sting and after that everything became muddled.

Peter could swear he heard a dog barking. Then he felt himself being carried, passed around, then he felt warm. And safe.

You came.

Stephen gathered his things, stepping towards the door. “I’ll be on my way. I have a surgery scheduled for tomorrow, so… save your emergencies for another time,” he said and left.

Tony turned to Peter. “Ready to go?” Peter let out long exhale. “I can carry you if you don’t feel up to walking,” he offered with playful expression. And like before, he meant it.

“Mr. Stark,” Peter whined, “that would be embarrassing.”

Tony hid the hurt behind a mask. They were back to Mr. Stark. He should have expected it, given the situation. But that didn’t stop it from hurting any less. Time was the key. Pressuring Peter into something would have the opposite effect.

“Woah!” Tony got ahold of Peter’s shoulders before Peter could make out with the doorway. “Okay, no, I get it’s a nice door, but no hugging.” He threw his arm around his shoulders, guiding him towards the common room. Tony rubbed Peter’s arm when the kid leaned into the touch.

Warm. Safe.

“Ah, there he is!” Clint exclaimed in excitement.

Peter looked up, giving the people present small wave and tired smile.

“How are you feeling?” Steve asked. The table was set.

“Whoever said ‘Say no to drugs’ was right. This sucks big time,” Peter admitted. “Trying drugs wasn’t on my bucket list.”

Natasha smirked. “So you won’t be touching any of that ever again?”

“Damn right I won’t,” Peter plopped on his, well he made it his, seat. He tilted his head when Bucky nudged Steve with his elbow. The latter looked like he knew what was about to come, praying to whoever was up there to give him strength. The rest was grinning too.

“Steve, bad word.”

“Yeah, Steve doesn’t like that kind of a talk,” Pepper smiled as she placed full plate in front of Peter. She gently combed her fingers through Peter’s curls, making the boy lean into the touch.

“I would expect that line from Nat, but you Pepper?”

“Who do you think she got it from?” Natasha stole the plate from Steve’s hands and went to sit down.

 

“What are you doing?” Tony asked Peter when all of the food was eaten. Following others’ lead, Peter began to put dirty dishes on a pile before standing up.

Peter turned around, head tilting. “Helping.”

“Yeah, no,” Tony took the dishes from his hands. “You heard our good doctor. You are resting, whether you like it or not. You still look tired. Or have you already forgotten that you almost made out with the doorway?”

“But I’m okay now!” Peter protested. He ignored the way his cheeks definitely flushed when the earlier incident was mentioned.

“Wait, he did what now?” Clint chuckled.

“He almost walked into the doorway,” Tony replied and grinned when Peter narrowed his eyes at him. The betrayal.

“Eh, it wouldn’t be the worst thing he’d done,” Natasha shrugged.

Oh no. What happened during those moments he couldn’t remember? “What did I do?” he asked fearfully.

“Let’s see… “

Peter was mortified. He hid his face in his hands, drawing out long groan. “Oh no.” He didn’t want to know what giving Rhodey war flashbacks of the time when he was taking care of intoxicated Tony during their time attending MIT meant.

As per Tony’s request, nobody mentioned the D-word. And only he and Pepper knew about the M-word.

“I think it was adorable,” Pepper stepped closer and wrapped her arms around Peter. “Funny, but adorable.”

“Okay,” Peter said once he composed himself. “Can I still help? At least with something?”

“Who does this remind me of?” Rhodey threw knowing look at Tony, who in return rolled his eyes.

“Shut up,” Tony muttered. “And no. You go sit down on the couch right now or I’m carrying you there myself. Don’t think I won’t do it.”

Peter knew he was serious. So, he did the only logical thing. He moved towards the L-shaped couch and was about to sit in the corner to get comfy… until hurried tapping of paws carried from the hallway.

“Hey, Fri- oof!”

All air rushed from Peter’s lungs when the dog collided with his body at full speed, sending him sprawling on the couch. Friday wagged her tail like crazy, not letting up her attempts to lick Peter’s covered face.

“Hey, I’m okay,” Peter tired to shake the overexcited dog off of him. “I’m all good now.”

“You should have seen her earlier,” Tony called out from the table as he helped to carry the rest of the dishes away. “She made herself quite comfy at your side in med-bay. It was hilarious to see Strange trying to get her off the bed and leave. He succeeded, but I think Fri let him have that victory. Fri, be gentle with the baby.”

Friday hopped off the couch, giving Peter a chance to sit up. “I’m not a baby,” he grumbled. Just as his back hit the corner of the couch, she dropped the toy Rhodey said was her favorite on his lap. He wrapped his arms around her, burying his hands in her fur. “You were there, weren’t you?” he whispered. “In that house. You saved me from something worse, right? Thank you. You also tried to protect me from that man that took me. I’m sorry I thought you were barking at me.”

Peter’s eyes began to droop. Yeah, he was told he would get tired throughout the day, but he wasn’t expecting the energy he’s gained so far to leave him so quickly. It wasn’t even ten!

Two people sat down, one at each side of him. To his right sat his da- he meant Mr. Stark. To his left was Clint.

“What do you say we finish those Star Wars movies? I’m actually kinda excited to see what happens next,” Clint grinned, reaching his hand to ruffle Peter’s hair, but retraced his hand back when Friday playfully snapped at it. “Huh?” He repeated the movement, again with the same result. Friday didn’t let him touch Peter. “Heh, would you look at that.” Just for fun, he reached his hand again.

The room got shrouded in dimness as the blinds on the windows closed. Pepper settled herself next to Tony.

Tony did the same as Clint. Friday turned her head and shooed his hand away as well. Tony put on the most overexaggerated look of offence. “You turned her against me!”

“You’ve done that yourself,” Peter said dramatically. Several eyebrows were raised. “Sorry. We’re not at that part yet.”

Friday lied down between him and Clint so she could prevent any funny business from the man. Or to keep playing. Probably both.

And that’s how they spent the rest of the day. Movie after movie played with Peter dozing off every so often, sometimes accompanied by Friday that placed her head into his lap after Clint got tired of playing with her. Or she got tired of playing with Clint.

The adults in the room were either watching the movies, having quiet conversation among themselves or half-watching and half-working on their computers, like Pepper. Tony kept throwing tender glances at Peter’s sleeping face. At some point, he went to retrieve Peter’s blanket and wrapped it around his tiny frame.

When he turned around, he caught Pepper looking at him with pride in her eyes.

Peter was currently having another nap while Tony, Steve and Bucky were sitting at the table. “But hey,” Tony shrugged, “it’s like the sky opened up and presented us with solution for our problems.”

“Pretty last minute,” Bucky commented.

Pepper flicked his ear. “Already breaking the rules, I see.” One of the set rules was that Tony’s business was forbidden to discussed with Peter on the same floor.

“But he’s asleep!”

Pepper pointed to the couch where Peter was sitting up while rubbing his eyes.

“Oh.”

“How about I start on the dinner?” Steve asked and without waiting for an answer speed-walked into the kitchen.

Peter looked around and briefly wondered what to do now. Sure, he could put on another movie, but he could see the adults scattered around. And he didn’t feel like watching alone.

He didn’t need to ponder about that for long.

“So, Peter,” Clint slid back into his original seat. “Would you help me with something?”

“Uh, yeah, sure.”

Clint nodded. “Okay. First – how good are you at videogames?”

Odd question. “Depends on the game, but I would say pretty good.” When he went for a sleepover to Ned’s place, and when they weren’t watching the movies or doing something else, they were playing videogames. So, he had practice.

“Perfect,” Clint’s eyes glinted. “The thing is, yesterday Sam said some not very nice things to me while we called. I need you to beat his high score for me.”

“Okay.”

“Great!” Clint started to set up the console. “Buck, you playing with us?”

Notes:

Ahh, nothing brings people more together than near-death experience.

Some more fluff for you. Let me know what you think, I always enjoy to hear from you guys.

Next up: ... :)

Chapter 24

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Sam passed less and less people as he neared his destination. All you needed was mostly guards in this particular part of the facility anyway.

“Hey, Terrance!” one of the guards greeted him.

Sam plastered cheerful smile on his face. “What’s good, my man?”

The guard nodded at the tray in Sam’s hands. “Special delivery?”

“For our special guest. His last meal.”

The guard made an exaggerated motion of letting him in. “Tell him to enjoy it. He won’t be getting anything better… ever, probably.”

“Will relay,” he gave the guard mock salute and kept walking. Counting down numbers on the doors that hid empty cells, he reached the only one that was currently occupied. The door buzzed and Sam slipped in, wordlessly moving towards tiny table near the wall.

“Agent,” scruffy looking Stane greeted.

“Stane,” Sam returned the greeting. “Audio is disrupted. It will take them about three minutes to realize the error.” Sam was required to stay here until the food was gone to ensure Stane wouldn’t do anything stupid with the cutlery – which was only the spoon, to be exact.

“You sure took your time,” Stane groaned as he pushed himself off the bed and went to sit down at the table. “To be honest, I started to worry that Tony would leave me here to rot… or that something happened to him.”

“You know how Stark is. He never leaves things unfinished.”

“Hm,” Stane replied around the spoon in his mouth. “When are we leaving this hole? I’m getting sick of this place.”

Sam crossed his arms and leaned on the wall. “Soon.”

“Care to elaborate?”

“After you’re done with your last meal.”

That seemed to do the trick. The white mush that Sam had no idea what it contained – except for one thing – began to disappear faster. It still didn’t stop Stane from speaking between every bite.

“How are things outside? Business is growing, I assume.”

One of the corners of Sam’s lips quirked upwards when he noticed Stane stifling the littlest of the coughs. “It’s been wild, let me tell you. Can you imagine that someone tried to shoot Tony a while back? Crazy things!”

“Oh, really?” Stane asked. “Is he okay?”

You asshole.

No, patience. Not that long now. The cough was stronger this time. Stane cleared his throat and took a sip of water.

“He is, actually. You should know that it takes more than that to kill him.” Sam couldn’t help but smile darky when the older man dropped the spoon and clutched the fabric of his prison jumpsuit over his heart. He leaned down. “So, tell me,” he whispered while lightly hitting his back to make it look like he was helping him after he choked on the food, “why did you think you would be the one to take him out?”

Stane looked up at him with wide eyes. He began to wheeze.

“Sorry to tell you this, but your little scheduled assassination was unsuccessful. If I remember correctly, you were supposed to be in Europe then, overseeing everything from the distance. This whole imprisonment threw a wrench in your plans, right? From what I was told, the shooter your guys picked was total amateur. And the other guy that opened the window? He wasn’t as successful at messing up the biometric scans as he through.”

“It… wasn’t… me.” He was struggling to speak. His lips started to take on blue tint.

“Lies, lies, lies” Sam sighed as if he was scolding a child. “Same as it wasn’t you that went all buddy-buddy with Hydra and Ten Rings and ordered a hit on Tony’s parents and him respectively?” He tilted his head, sticking out his bottom lip. “Don’t even bother to deny it. If you were outside, you would know that all computers were changed for new ones and they went through every single one of the old ones, even those that were collecting dust in basement.”

“You can’t… do this!” Stance choked out.

“Yeah, we can. I told you Stark never left things unfinished. I’ve actually got a message from him. He says: I wish I could be there to finish you off myself. It’s none of your business if I decide to make damn phones instead of exporting weapons – we make enough of those to just sustain ourselves and our allies. And you know how traitors are dealt with.”

Stane’s eyes filled with fear, his whole body shaking. Sam continued. “That’s not all. You also endangered his kid during that stunt. You can imagine how pissed he was.” There was no need to explain that to dying man. “Oh, and one last thing. He says to say hi to his father in hell.”

Sam ignored the gurgled scream. He gave the man’s back one last pat before he turned to the door. “Guards! Guards! Help, something’s wrong with him!”

Armed people rushed in just in time for Stane to topple to the ground. Sam stayed standing in the back. “I’ll go get help,” he said and ran off.

“He’s not breathing!” he heard someone yell from behind him. They didn’t need to bother. There was no helping him. Sam never specified how they’ll leave.

His last mission as agent Smith was over.

 

“Oh my God!” Rhodey hollered. He came to collect the two, but the sight that greeted him… “Look at yourselves. I can’t—” he bent over, his shoulders shaking with laughter.

He arrived just in time to see the decoy housing unit for the AI Tony and Peter were tinkering with sparkle and let out a puff of smoke. Dum-E took it as a cue to roll over and spray them with fire extinguisher.

Peter huffed, white foam flying from around his mouth and nose. A click of camera could be heard.

Tony wiped his face. “You,” he pointed at Rhodey, “delete that photo. And you,” he pointed to the robot, “you are scrap metal. Nothing will save you now.”

“You mean the photo I just sent to the group chat?” Rhodey smirked.

“Mr. Stark, no,” Peter said. He came to like the robot. “I’m sure he didn’t mean it.”

“I’m pretty sure he’s secretly enjoying it,” Tony grumbled. “Okay, you get to live another day, but only because the kid spoke on your behalf! That won’t save you next time,” he pointed to the retreating robot. Tony huffed before he got a good look at Peter’s face. The laugh escaped on its own.

Only Peter’s eyes were visible. The rest of his face was still covered in foam. “Oh my, kiddo, look at yourself!” he laughed. He could see the boy giving him unimpressed glare.

Peter ran his hand down half of his face and flicked the collected foam at Tony’s head.

Tony gasped. “Oh no, you didn’t.”

“Oh yeah, I did,” Peter replied cheekily.

Tony scooped some of the foam from the table and threw it at Peter. Peter, of course, returned the favor. Both of their heads snapped to where Rhodey cleared his throat to remind them of his presence.

Which was a mistake.

Rhodey watched as brown met brown with the same gleam of understanding in them. It made him instinctively tense. “I know what you’re thinking about, but no. Don’t try it.”

They tried it anyway and unlike Anakin, they succeeded. In the end, all three of them were covered in foam. The lab looked worse than it did after initial spray of the extinguisher.

“Great. Now all three of us need to wash up.”

“But it was fun!” Peter practically vibrated with excitement. “Like a snow fight in summer.”

“Yeah,” Tony nodded. The look of happiness on Peter’s face was worth it. “Dum-E, you clean up the mess. It’s your fault in the first place. You know where the cleaning supplies are,” he called over his shoulder as he closed the door behind him.

“Be here in fifteen minutes,” Rhodey said before they walked their separate ways to shower.

The devil worked fast, but Clint worked faster. He saw an opportunity and took it.

Rhodey snickered at the sight of his best friend. “You changed your style?”

“I swear I’m gonna kill him,” Tony grumbled, but he didn’t look the most intimidating in Clint’s typical dad attire. What a surprise it was when he got out o the shower and saw all of his clothes gone – except for one outfit left on the bed for him. “But later. Let’s go.”

“Wha- hey!” Peter protested when Tony walked behind him and covered his eyes.

“Just go with it. Keep walking. And… don’t freak out,” Tony said as he led Peter outside.

They stopped and the hands covering his eyes were removed. Peter blinked several times to adjust to the brightness.

“Surprise!”

“Part two!”

Peter looked around, just as awestruck as the first time. Long table with benches was full of various food, drinks and snacks. There was also a cake, though different from the one from before. Friday even sported the same party hat that she was trying to remove with her paw. Nearby stood a grill, nice smell hanging around it.

“A-wh-what?” Peter stammered.

Tony placed his arm around Peter’s shoulders. “We didn’t get to celebrate your birthday properly before, but don’t think we forgot! We cut back on the decorations as it was probably too overwhelming the first- wait… still too much?” Tony threw desperate glance at the rest. They opted for barbecue outside this time. But it looks like even that is too much.

Peter rubbed his eyes. “No, no,” he quickly assured. “It’s amazing. I- thank you.”

“What is it, then?”

“It’s just… the last time I got to celebrate like this…The first time, I was just overwhelmed, but I was thankful. I’m just… surprised that you still went through with it.”

“Come here,” Tony pulled Peter in for a hug. “That’s the point of surprises – to get surprised.”

“Nice clothes,” Clint commented. Tony dragged his thumb across his throat in response.

Pepper smacked his arm. “Don’t be mean. And I think it really suits you.”

“Okay. You get to live for now. Let’s cut that cake, shall we?”

Peter felt like he was having the time of his life. He made a wish and blew out the candles, ate, drank and laughed to his heart contest. The cake was delicious. Friday stole several pieces of meat from the plate where Clint was putting it aside after it was done. He chased after her half-heartedly, which made the group laugh.

Then was time for presents.

“No way! This is collector’s series!” Peter exclaimed when his eyes landed on the Millennium Falcon Lego set. 7541 pieces. Ned will lose it. But… “No, that had to be expensive. I can’t accept this.”

“Aw come on, let me spoil you a little,” Tony playfully shoved him. “What would we do with this anyway? I don’t return things. Besides, if nothing else, you deserve this.”

“Thank you.” The least Peter could do was give the man a hug.

“Be glad it’s only this,” Rhodey chimed in, “he wanted to get you private island.”

“Private island?” Peter asked, confused. “What would I do with private island? How would you even get private island? What are you, a millionaire?”

“Billionaire, actually. With B,” Tony replied.

Peter blinked at him before reaching for another gift. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that because I can comprehend how much that is.”

“You go to nerd school and can’t comprehend how much a billion is?”

Next gift was a T-shirt that read What do you say when you drop a bar of gold on your foot? Au. Peter loved it. The last one was smaller box. He looked in confusion at alarm clock in his hands.

“We thought you could use that one around here.”

At some point, Bucky pulled Peter aside and revealed bunch of water guns. A war broke shortly after, the teams quickly disbanding and it was each for themselves. Happy joined the fray after someone splashed him with water when he went to get a piece of cake. After that, they threw around a frisbee, and Steve was not playing around.

“You could decapitate someone with a throw like that!” Peter called out.

Friday, happily running after the disc, managed to steal it, which again resulted in people chasing after her.

Everything was perfect. Too perfect.

Peter should have realized that with his luck, it wouldn’t last.

The sun began to set when sound of rumbling engines reached everyone’s ears. Peter stopped the tug of war with Friday, trying to identify where the sound was coming from. Others stopped doing their own things, looking around, tensing, as if ready for a fight. Some hands reached under the table.

It felt like in a blink of an eye for Peter. Several vans screeched to halt, people in uniforms pooled out of them with weapons raised. Some of them moved towards him. Peter’s heart rate picked up when one of the men grabbed his wrist and began to pull him away. Friday didn’t allow the man to make more than two steps, her teeth sinking into the offending arm and Peter stumbled back when he was let go.

One of the men pulled out a baton, ready to hit the growling dog. Peter’s eyes widened. “Don’t hurt her!” he yelled, ready to step in front of her. She was just protecting him.

“Kid, come over here,” one of the men said.

“You as much as touch either of them and you’ll regret your whole existence!” That was Tony’s voice.

Peter felt himself being pressed into someone’s back. He looked up, seeing his dad standing in front of him, one of his arms outstretched to shield him further.

The man stopped. Peter looked around to see what was going on, the air catching in his throat. Both the uniformed people and the residents – that pulled out weapons of their own seemingly out of thin air – were in a stand-off, despite being outnumbered. Rhodey went inside about fifteen minutes ago to take care of something work related.

Brief silence fell over the area, every side waiting for opponent’s move.

“Is this a new thing?” Tony broke the silence. “Anyone can just waltz in here whenever they want?” After the whole Beck situation, Tony let the fence be reinforced. Unfortunately, it wasn’t ready yet. “And look at that!” he gestured to the skid marks on the grass. “Do you have any idea how hard is to maintain a lawn like this?!”

Peter peeked over Tony’s torso, his breath catching in his throat for the second time. The two people previously advancing towards him were backing down, but another two began to take their place, weapons raised.

Mary and Richard Parker.

Notes:

Look who showed up.

The voting in Irondad Creator Awards has opened. We're in Category 3 - Oneshot (A Different Kind Of Surprise (now I've been notified that this one is in Category 22 too?)), Category 5 - Biodad AU (The Ties That Bind Us), and even Category 20 - Newbie. Vote (if you want to) and show all of these amazing creators some love. Every vote is appreciated!

Chapter 25

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Happy and his men matched the speed the Shield agents appeared at. The numbers were evened, maybe even slightly in their advantage – Tony didn’t have the time to count.

Peter had no idea what to do. His body refused to cooperate, so all he could do was to stand there, frozen in place. He didn’t think he’d ever seen his parents looking like this before. Like they were ready to take a life at moment’s notice. A hand pushed his body further into Tony’s back, shielding him from the sight of the guns in his parents’ hands.

They came too. But Peter didn’t feel safe at all.

Tony felt one of Peter’s hands weakly grip the back of his shirt. “Okay, first of all, can we put those things away? Kid doesn’t like the sight of guns.” He could practically see Peter’s terrified look. Tony himself was unarmed. Neither was Pepper. Others could handle it.

Geez, Peter’s been through more than enough already and now these people come barging in ruining everything?

“Step aside, Stark,” Mary said, her voice steely. “Peter, come over here.” She threw quick glance at still lowly growling dog that looked ready to lunge at the smallest move.

“How about no,” Tony replied, but his eyes weren’t on her. Instead, he watched the one and only Nick Fury walking towards them like he was on a casual Sunday stroll, Hill right behind him.

The pair stopped next to Parkers. “Stark, let the kid go,” Fury said.

Tony stared back at him, unimpressed. “I already said he’s not going anywhere.” He slid his gaze to Natasha, who was staring down one Shield agent. The poor guy gulped and shifted on his feet. The tiniest smirk appeared on her face, then disappeared as fast when she noticed Tony trying to catch her eye.

Tony’s eyes pointed to the crowd of agents, then his eyes conveyed the silent question. Natasha scanned each face, then gave him subtle shake of her head. No Hydra. Coast clear.

“This is not—”

“You know what, Fury?” Tony rudely cut the man off. “Why don’t you sweep in front of your own porch first and then you can tell me what to do.” He watched as Fury opened his mouth, ready to speak. Tony wouldn’t let him. “The vermin infestation got pretty bad. You should take care of it.”

Maybe it was the way Tony spoke, maybe it was the look in his eyes. But what was important was that Fury snaped his mouth shut. Hill’s eyes slightly narrowed, darting from Tony to her boss. She must’ve caught on the implication as well.

That however didn’t stop a certain man that was angry about Stane dying before he could reveal his secrets. He thought he was close. Unfortunately, he had no idea Stane was merely pulling his leg. “Peter, come here right now!” Richard yelled.

Peter flinched. Tony narrowed his eyes. “Can you stop shouting?” At least Hill gave the douche a side-eye.

“You have no right—” Mary started, only to be cut off by Tony.

“Actually, I have every right, as he’s, you know, my son!”

That seemed to take them aback. “He’s not,” she protested, but her confidence wavered.

“Cut the crap,” Tony scoffed. “We’ve done three paternity tests. Three. And, surprise-surprise, they all came back with the same result. Positive.” Tony leveled them with hard look. These people weren’t here even for five minutes and he already hated them with passion. “Now, put the guns down while I’m asking nicely. I won’t ask another time.”

The Parkers had a conversation with their eyes. Fury made the decision for them. He waved to the rest of the agents, making them do as told. Tony’s team lowered their guns as well. However, all fingers remained close to the triggers.

“Much better. Now, care to explain why you crashed our little party?” Tony knew exactly why. He just wasn’t expecting them to be this bold.

“You know very well why,” Richard hissed. “Damn it, Peter come! Here! Now!”

Oh, how Tony would love to run a bullet through that guy’s skull. “What makes you think he wants to come with you?” he raised his chin, challenging him. He needs to find a way to get Peter out of here. He could feel the kid trembling.

“And what makes you think he wants to be here?” Mary shot back.

“In the end, it’s my choice.”

“A golden cage is still a cage.”

The words echoed in Tony’s mind, and… they were right, weren’t they? This is a choice Peter had to make. This will be a test of their relationship, no matter how risky. But it’s something Tony had to accept.

“Let’s let Peter decide, then,” he said. The sharp inhale from behind him stabbed him in the heart, but he didn’t let that show. He dared the agents to protest.

“Fine,” Mary said lowly.

Tony gently removed Peter’s hand from his shirt. He gave him reassuring squeeze, then he let go. “No funny business,” he told Parkers and began to back away. Friday was still guarding Peter. If something, she could buy them some time.

Peter knew every pair of eyes was on him now. He felt squeamish. He literally stood right in the middle of a choice that will change his life. Both Mr. Stark and his parents were an equal distance from him.

His eyes darted between the two groups. What side should he choose?

On one side – his parents. On the other – Mr. Stark. His dad.

His brain sorted through everything he knew. The good of each side. The bad of each side. Compare. Use logic but listen to your heart too. Memories, experiences, words spoken. Thin walls, guns pointed. Fear, love. Physical contact. Blood. Abandonment. Family. Intimidation. Laughter. Coldness. Affection. Loneliness. Warmth.

The words mixed together, creating one swarming mass. But despite that, he could make out one word in the indistinguishable mess.

Safe.

Peter made the decision. Taking in steadying breath, he closed his eyes… and walked.

“Peter!”

The boy clenched his jaw and lowered his head at the roar coming from behind him. Don’t look. Just keep walking. Gentle hands landed on his shoulders and pulled him in for a hug. He felt like he could exhale now.

“It’s okay. It’s okay,” Tony whispered into his son’s curls, closing his eyes briefly. When he opened them, they were full of ice, pointed at the people standing opposite of him. They were openly seething.

Time to get Peter out of here.

He couldn’t afford to spare Natasha or Clint, as they were the best shooters. Sending Pepper alone was out of question. Steve was able to keep his cool perfectly, so it’s best if he stayed here. Bucky was the best choice – good shooter, basically a killing machine, intimidating for others but gentle with Peter. He’ll be able to protect him if the Shield tried something.

“Barnes,” Tony kept his voice low. His eyes moved to Peter, then to the building.

Bucky understood. He tucked away his gun, placing one hand on Peter’s back when Tony let go and guided him inside. Turning his back to the enemy went against everything he knew. But he knew Steve will be his eyes.

The door closed behind the two, separating them from the conflict. About halfway down the hall, Peter let his back hit the wall. He slid down and covered his mouth. Tears stung in his eyes. He couldn’t breathe. Again.

He forgot all about his parents. Everything was fine. Until it wasn’t.

Bucky kneeled in front of him, wrapped his arms around his small body. “Don’t be afraid. Come on. In. Out.” Bucky had first-hand experience with panic attacks. The memories of Hydra occasionally resurfaced. But there was a difference between him and a child. He wished Sam was here. Sam always knew the right thing to say in situations like these.  “Focus on breathing. Tony will take care of everything.”

Peter’s body kept shaking.

God, he really wished Sam was here.  

 

When Tony was sure Peter was out of earshot, he turned his back to Parkers and walked towards the table. He picked up his glass, turned back to the Parkers and without breaking eye contact, took a sip of apple juice.

No drinking alcohol around his kid.

“Now we can talk more freely. So, what do you want here?” he tilted his head. He knew, but he wanted to hear it from them.

Richard straightened his back, naturally responding to Tony’s challenging look. “Stane’s dead.”

“You kidnapped Peter,” Mary added.

“How tragic,” Tony said, matter-of-factly before his eyes shifted to the woman. “And, no, I did not.” Technically, he wasn’t lying. Barton and Barnes did that. And also… “That was Beck.”

“Beck?” Mary scoffed, not believing a word Tony said.

“Yeah,” Tony took another sip. “I would say ‘go and ask him’, but I heard he went to live to a nice farm up north where he can run free.” Tony couldn’t help the smile on his face.

“Stop messing around, Stark. We wouldn’t give you Stane back and he got killed just before he was supposed to be shipped off to the Raft.” Richard was beginning to lose his patience. “We know you did it.”

“Do you have any sort of proof? Because from the way you talk, it sounds like you do.” Tony put the glass down and took a step forward. “I didn’t kill Stane,” another technicality, “and honestly? If he messed with wrong people, then he deserved what was coming.”

Tony paced, as if there weren’t any weapons ready to shoot him. He would prefer to have his suit on him. “I have a theory about what is going on inside your heads. You think that I kidnapped a kid to use him to get Stane back. But now he’s dead and you… what? Think that I’m going to get rid of someone that holds no value anymore?” The words tasted bitter on his tongue, but he needed to sell the act. “A death of a civilian would look bad on you, I assume. Or!” he exclaimed, “you were counting on Pete to die so you could go and cry that big scary man killed a child. Oh, boo-hoo,” he stuck out his bottom lip and rubbed his eye.

“Quit your games. We know you’re holding him here against his will! Bring him out—”

“A-ah-ah,” Tony held up his finger, “see, this is where you’re all wrong. You’ve seen it, didn’t you? Peter made his own choice to stay here. He was given space, literally, to decide on his own on what he wants to do. He’s fifteen. He’s got his own head.”

“He’s fourteen,” Mary corrected.

He couldn’t believe these people. “Are you serious?” Tony looked at her as if she was the dumbest person he’d ever seen. “You really forgot your own son’s birthday? I would say nothing if it was him,” he pointed at Richard, “but you? Wow. At least I had my mother when I was growing up, but you two straight up suck! And it was his birthday party that we were having that you crashed and ruined, by the way. I would offer you some cake, but you’ve done nothing to deserve it. You don’t deserve him.”

“Doesn’t matter, he’s coming with us, whether you like it or not.”

This man didn’t know when to shut up, did he?

“Are you deaf? He’s not. And for what? To leave him alone in that apartment again? What’s up with that anyway?” Tony’s eyes hardened. Anger began to bubble in his chest. “What kind of parents let a thirteen-year-old kid live on his own? Not to mention after the passing of the people that raised him. He’s too young to get emancipated.” Tony let the implication of his words sink in. “I’m pretty sure what you did can be classified as child abandonment.”

“Why you—”

The guns on both sides rose again. Tony was about to go off and speak his mind. Luckily Pepper, bless her soul, chose that moment to loudly clear her throat. Tony could see a mask of professionalism slip over her face with practiced ease. She might not be able to kill a man like them, but once she opens her mouth and she looked like that, you’ll wish you were dead.

“Excuse me for interrupting,” she stepped next to Tony, “but as you’re aware, you’re trespassing on a private property. I would like to see if you have a warrant to be here?” Her voice was polite, but sharp. “If you do, then feel free to search the place. Everything you find here is here legally.” Always be insured.

“If you have no such document, I will have to ask you to leave. Otherwise, authorities will be alerted,” she finished with pointed smile.

Oh, how Tony loved this woman. The group of Shield agents exchanged glances before they looked at Fury that was silently observing the whole exchange.

“All right,” he said. “Fall back. We’re leaving.”

Hill looked at him with raised eyebrow.

“What?” Richard asked in disbelief.

Mary looked at him with wide eyes. “But sir, we can—"

“I said we’re leaving,” Fury said sternly before looking Tony straight in the eye. That look told Tony that this won’t be the last time he’ll hear from him.

“Well, you heard the lady and the pirate. Get out of here. Now!” Tony mockingly copied the tone Richard used on Peter before. Like hell he was letting his kid leave with these people.

“This is not over. We’ll be back for him,” Mary said.

“You can try. Though, be aware of what you’re getting yourself into.”

“Are you threatening us?”

“Just a friendly warning,” Tony replied.

The team watched as Shield agents boarded the vans and drove away. Nobody moved. For a second, Tony wondered whether he should send the organization the bill for ruined lawn just to be petty. Usually, he would entertain the idea, but the whole situation left him feel like snapping someone’s neck with his bare hands.

Soft hands landed on his cheeks. Pepper must have noticed the state he was in. He placed his own hands over hers and closed his eyes.

“We won’t allow them to take him,” she spoke softly. The rest of the team murmured in agreement. Tony nodded to himself.

He glanced at the table. Yeah, there will be no partying anymore today. “Clean this up,” he said to the men nearby as he walked past them, his own team following behind.

He needed to check on his kid.

Notes:

I originally wanted to arrange the chapters so it would end before Peter's decision, but that would be too cruel of a cliffhanger. And you have no idea how long I've waited to use that "farm where he can run free" line.

Thank you for your constant support, for the votes if you voted and have a wonderful weekend. Love you all.

Chapter 26

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

“How is he?” Tony asked.

“He fell asleep,” Natasha replied as she sat down on the couch. After they all went inside to check on Peter, they found out that he went to his room and asked to be left alone just before they entered the common room. Tony wanted to go after him, but Natasha offered that she would go instead and that the man should focus on dealing with the problem. From Bucky’s expression, she knew what to expect.

But it didn’t mean it hurt any less.

She could hear occasional sniffles coming from behind the door. He was obviously trying to keep the volume down. She gently knocked and despite not receiving any answer, she let herself in after announcing herself.

Peter was lying on his side, facing the wall, hiding his face between the pillow and the blanket that he was clutching like a lifeline. Natasha placed the gifted clock on his bedside table and just sat there, rubbing soothing circles on his back. The sniffling stopped few minutes later and the room fell silent.

She wasn’t sure when or how, but at some point, Peter ended up in her arms. Slowly rocking their bodies back and forth, she quietly sung him old Russian lullabies while running her hand through his hair.

But every time her hand got too close to his neck, the teen flinched awake from his near slumber. Natasha squeezed her eyes shut, regret and shame pooling in her stomach.

Because it was her fault.

So, she kept her hand on top of his head and Peter’s breathing eventually leveled out. She kept on rocking and humming until she was absolutely sure he was fast asleep. She tucked him in and returned to others. The whole ordeal took less than half an hour.  

“The whole thing did a number on him,” she sighed. “What did you come up with?”

Tony rubbed his face. “They have nothing on us. At this point, they will come back and take him away just to hurt me.”

“We can’t allow hem to do that. We all saw how they behaved towards him,” Bucky’s palms curled into fists. “They didn’t even ask him if he was okay.”

Steve patted his friend’s shoulder. He filled him in on what happened after they left.

“As much as I hate to say it,” Rhodey spoke up, “as of now, if they show up here with police, we have to give him back. Tony’s not on Peter’s birth certificate.” Rhodey’s leave ended and he returns to work tomorrow. As much as he hated that he was practically useless during the situation, he did the right thing by staying inside when he noticed what was going on. He’ll be at least able to somehow help once he was back at the station.

“We could always… you know,” Clint made finger gun and made shooting motion, “pow, pow.” Others murmured in agreement.

“I don’t think Peter would appreciate that,” Pepper replied.

“Yeah, but leave that option on the table,” Tony said, scratching his chin. “As a last resort,” he added at Pepper’s disapproving look.

“There’s got to be something,” Steve said.

Natasha turned to Tony and Pepper. “Don’t you guys have, like, an army of the best lawyers?”

Pepper sighed. “Those are business lawyers, unfortunately. We’ll have to look for family lawyers tomorrow.”

Tony’s back straightened. “But they are still lawyers. Lawyers know other lawyers. As the best business lawyers, they should know the best family lawyers.”

“That… makes sense,” Clint commented.

“Wait,” Rhodey looked at him, “are you really…”

“Yeah,” Tony breathed out. “Probably for the first time in my life, I’m going to obey the law,” he grimaced and shuddered.

“Wow,” Rhodey said, voice full of astonishment.

“I would kill for him. I mean, we already did, but he doesn’t know that.” And if he had any suspicion, it was a good thing Peter that didn’t actually ask. “I guess I’ll have to do this as well.”

Pepper’s hand reached for her phone. “I’ll text our lawyers right now. it would be for the best if we get the head-start.” Her eyes found his, full of reassurance, and Tony wondered what he’d done to deserve her.

“So, a battle for custody,” Natasha said.

“Those can take a while,” Clint nodded.

“Not on my watch. I’ll make it go as fast as possible,” Tony promised. Even if it takes several days, they’ll have to endure it. “This is one of those problems you actually can solve, at least partially, by throwing money at it.”

 

Peter woke up to a dark room. He didn’t remember falling asleep. He must’ve dozed off in Natasha’s arms. God, what did everyone think about him now? To fall apart like that…

He turned around, blinking at a small speck of red light in the darkness. Peter reached for the thing, realizing it was the clock he got earlier. Sighing, he took in the time. Two in the morning.

At times like these, he would usually get up, get a glass of water, go back to bed and try to fall asleep. But… he didn’t want to fall asleep only to be met with people with guns and needles hovering over him while he’s unable to run away again. Maybe if he stretched his legs a little?

Hm, kitchen it is.

With his hand on the wall, he navigated the hallways without turning on the light. He didn’t know where others slept, which they were definitely doing like any normal people at this time, He didn’t want to wake anyone up and face the questions.

At last, he reached his destination. The room was illuminated by pale moonlight coming in through the glass wall. Maybe he could turn on the light here? But where’s the switch…

Peter stepped on something, the loud squeak making him flinch. Somewhere in the darkness, something fell on the ground and shattered. A head with two pointy ears shot up, letting out loud bark. Peter could make out Friday’s silhouette in the darkness.

“No, shh, shh!” he whisper-shouted at her, flailing his arms around.

“Me shh?” came from the kitchen area in same whisper-shouted fashion. “You shh!”

“No you shh,” Peter replied, “she shh!”

“Friday, shh!”

The lights above the kitchen counter turned on, giving off just enough light to see who was in the room. Peter spun around, his eyes finding Tony’s. They both let out a sigh of relief, closed their eyes and doubled over at the same time – Peter over his legs and Tony over the counter.

“Jesus, kid, don’t do this to me,” Tony muttered while letting go of the gun he’d grabbed on reflex and pushing the drawer closed.

Peter deeply inhaled, then exhaled. “Sorry.” He saw one of Friday’s squeaky toy next to his foot. This thing almost caused them both to go into cardiac arrest.

Tony pushed himself upwards with a groan. “What are you doing up?”

“I could ask you the same thing.” What normal people do at night probably didn’t include Mr. Stark.

“Don’t give me sass. I asked you first.”

Weary sigh escaped past his lips. “Woke up. Couldn’t fall back asleep, so I went to get some water and stretch my legs,” Peter replied. “Now, I asked you second. Why are you sitting in the kitchen in the dark all alone?”

Tony took the broom and began to sweep the shattered glass. “I couldn’t sleep either. I didn’t want to wake up Pepper on accident, so I came here.” Getting rid of the shards, he put the broom and dustpan away. He took out two glasses, filled them with cool water and motioned for Peter to follow him to the couch.

Peter accepted the glass with small thanks. He took a sip, then watched the water ripple as he gently tapped the glass with his finger. None of the two spoke. Friday was laid at their feet, abandoning her bed where she was previously sleeping.

The elephant in the room had to be addressed.

“How are you holding up?” Tony asked. He was no longer whispering, but he kept his voice low enough, as if to not disturb the night atmosphere.

“Honestly?” Peter said a moment later. “I’ve been better,” he admitted. He heard Mr. Stark hum in response. “Will they be back?” he asked in small voice, already suspecting what the answer will be. He didn’t want to know what went down after he left.

Tony briefly considered to tell him that no, they won’t, and he will not allow anyone to take him away. But he knew it was a lie that would make everything worse when it happened. And it was bound to happen. Better to be straightforward.

“Yes.” Tony watched as Peter’s eyes closed, accepting the answer. “I think they will.”

“I don’t wanna go.”

The defeated tone caused Tony heartache. “I believe you. We’re dealing with it, don’t worry.”

“I’ve never seen them look like that.” Peter lifted his head but didn’t look at Tony. Instead, he stared straight ahead, wrapping his arms around his middle. “They looked so angry. Ready to shoot. I felt like they were about to shoot me.”

Tony’s eyes saddened. “C’mere,” he outstretched his arm and pulled Peter into side hug. Peter placed his head on his shoulder, soaking in his warmth. Tony leaned his head on Peter’s. “It’s over now. It’s okay.” At least the encounter. But the battle just began…

“What happens now?” Peter asked, hesitantly.

“Now, we make a plan. The whole team is already on it. Every single one of us will go above and beyond to ensure that you will stay here. Only if you want to, of course,” Tony quickly added. He didn’t want his kid to feel pressured into anything.

Peter mulled over the words. He knew that whatever Mr. Stark and the rest did was bad, but he was also made aware of that they were keeping worse things from happening in the streets. Staying here would mean possible danger to him. The relationship with Mr. Stark, his dad, started off as rocky, but now… Of course, he will never forget the whole gun thing. But he could… forgive. Forgive, but not forget.

Yeah, he could work with that.

Peter felt like he belonged. Like he was a part of a family. The last time he felt like that was when Ben and May were still alive. And the way everyone here behaved towards him… what he previously though was some form of mind game turned out to be genuine. The awkward meals, the awkward chats, the self-defense lessons after the shooting – they wanted to get to know him and to make him to be able to defend himself. Then the whole another kidnapping happened.

And they came. They saved him.

When he weighted all pros and cons, the choice was clear even now, when he wasn’t under stress.

“I do want to stay,” Peter whispered with small smile on his face.

Tony’s face lit up. “Really? Well, I mean, we won’t be staying here – you have school, and it would take a long time to get to the city from here and you’re not a morning person so you would have trouble waking up that early—” Peter’s chuckle made him realize he was rambling. He fondly rolled his eyes and wrapped his second arm around the boy while kissing the top of his head. “Yeah, yeah, I’m hilarious, I know.”

“Thank you,” Peter whispered. And he meant it from the bottom of his heart. “But… what do I say when they ask me about all of this?” he asked, reluctantly ruining the moment. “How I ended up here?”

“We’ll think about that in the morning with the rest. Don’t worry about it now.”

“It technically is the morning already.”

This time, it was Tony’s turn to chuckle. Did Peter catch that from him or was he already like that? “Yeah. I guess it is.” Tony shifted on the couch into more comfortable position. Half sitting, half lying down, he pulled Peter closer. “Though, I have to ask you one thing.”

“Yeah?”

“Are you cursed or something?”

Peter looked up at him with his brows furrowed in adorable, confused expression.

Tony held back the urge to laugh. Or coo. “I mean, these were pretty wild weeks. Something happened… like… every other day? And, yeah, some of those are my fault, some were caused by your own dumbassery, but the rest…”

“Yeah, that’s Parker luck.” When Peter saw that Tony wasn’t following, he began to clarify. “That’s what my uncle named it. Basically, it’s like Murphy’s law. Everything that can go wrong, will go wrong.” He watched Tony nod and gave him small grin. “If you really want to go through with this, you might want to get used to it. You saw how ridiculously the universe treated me so far.”

If? If? There’s no if, Tony’s going through with this! “Well, then I’ll just have to get used to it. And besides, I think I might be cursed too, so now both of us can cause the team heart problems.”

Peter looked thoughtful “Maybe the curses will cancel out? I mean, two negatives make a positive. And if it wasn’t for my dumbassery, we wouldn’t be here right now.”

“Oh, right. But don’t go up and pulling similar stunts ever again or you’ll be grounded until you’re thirty.”

“No promises.”

More laughter. When it died down, Peter felt his eyes began to droop. This is what he needed. He nested closer, letting the warmth and the hand in his hair slowly lull him back to sleep. “Love you,” he whispered with small smile.

Tony’s eyes comically widened, taken by surprise. Then a smile pulled at his face and he was unable to stop it. He felt like pure happiness was coursing through his veins. But he won’t cry. No. It was just… dust. Yeah, a speck of dust got in his eye. He just had to blink it away and he will be fine.

He looked down, his face softening when he saw that Peter was already asleep against him. Tony didn’t have the heart to wake him up. And maybe he didn’t want to move either. They will simply have a sleepover here.

“Fri. Friday,” Tony whispered, getting attention of the dog. “Blanket. Get blanket. There,” he pointed to the place where blankets were stored. “Yeah, over there. Bring me one. Good girl,” he praised. Mindful to keep as still as possible, he spread the blanket over them both, a task that proved to be difficult when you’re using only one arm. Luckily, Friday understood what he wanted to do and pulled the blanket over Peter where he wouldn’t reach. “Thanks.”

He ran his finger through his son’s curls. How lucky was he? Amazing soon-to-be wife, amazing team that was practically his family, and now the best kid he could’ve asked for. Tony swore he will do everything to protect him.

“Love you too.”

He closed his eyes as well and fell asleep, fully content.

Notes:

The universe (I guess that's me in this case) really owes Peter for how he's been treated so far. But here are cuddles!

Now excuse me while I go and get some actual schoolwork done so I can peacefully write my villain Irondad series in the evening. Have a great day!

Chapter 27

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

The first thing Tony was aware of was bunch of hushed voices around him.

“No, you’ll wake them up.”

“Can’t you just zoom in on them?”

“I need better angle. Come on, man, I’m just gonna snap a quick picture. It’s going on the wall!”

“They’re so adorable.”

“This is so weird. I come back after a few weeks and he’s totally different man.”

“How did they both end up here like this anyway?”

“I don’t know, but- shh!”

A camera went off. Tony cracked one eye open, trying to make sense of the scene in front of him. The whole team was looking down at them, Clint was retreating back to the safety of the group, but not before snapping one more picture of Tony giving him death glare.

Tony’s chest rose with next big intake of breath, ready to question why they were staring at him like that, but a weight on his chest made the words die in his throat. He glanced down, seeing Peter curled to his side, head on his chest and arms thrown around him like a koala. He was still asleep.

“Well, good morning, Stark,” Sam greeted with wide grin on his face. “Long time no see.”

“You wake him up, you’re dead, you hear me, Wilson? That goes for all of you,” Tony whispered, or more like hissed. The thread earned him a series of muffled chuckles. The people scattered – some went to the kitchen, some sat down on another couch and engaged in hushed conversation.

Tony absentmindedly rubbed soothing circles on his son’s back with one hand – the hand that roughly grabbed the boy’s chin on the first day here – as he let his mind wander, already solving what to say to Parkers once they ask Peter about all of this. They got a head-start with their lawyers, so why shouldn’t Tony get a head-start on this as well?

Something tickled the inside of his nose. Oh no, he felt a sneeze coming. But he couldn’t sneeze with Peter still asleep against him! Tony quickly pinched his nose shut – to no avail. Though it muffled the sound, the movement jostled both of their bodies.

Peter stirred awake. With bleary, barely opened eyes, he looked around the room.

“Good morning,” Pepper quietly greeted.

Without missing a beat, Peter closed his eyes again and buried his face in Tony’s shoulder. “Five more minutes,” he mumbled.

“Wow. Someone’s not a morning person,” Sam commented.

“Early worm gets eaten.”

“And you’re the worm?”

“Yeah. Big mood.”

Tony looked at Clint. “Is he speaking Internet again?” After the whole med-bay thing, Clint sat Tony down and gave him a brief lecture on memes and internet trends. At least those he knew from his own kids.

“I’ll go start with the breakfast,” Steve announced.

“Well, up you get, sleepyheads,” Bucky encouraged.

“No,” Peter moaned. “Too early.”

Tony patted Peter’s head, his mind supplying a memory of conversation from their first breakfast together. Smirk pulled at his lips. “You’ll be late for school.”

That worked like a charm. “School!” Peter’s eyes snapped open as he jerked his head up, all tense before his body began to relax again. “It’s summer. No school,” he said as if to remind himself. Then he looked at Tony. “You’re mean.”

Tony offered him half-shrug, trying to suppress a laugh at the boy’s pout. “We can’t exactly stay in this position forever.”

“Yeah. You’re elderly. It’s not good for you back.”

“You little shit,” Tony said over Sam’s hollering, playing offended.

“Oh, I like him already,” Sam wiped a tear from his eye. “I think we can bond over roasting you together.”

“Don’t get used to it. He only has no filter when he’s tired.”

Still laughing, Sam reached into his bag. “Aha! Found it. Here,” he held out a juice box for Peter. “I got this for you.”

“Thanks.” Peter gratefully reached for the offered gift without thinking about it too much. It was morning, it was early morning, he was tired and just wanted to go back to sleep. Unfortunately, that was out of question.  

“Nope, breakfast first,” Natasha stole the juice box before Peter’s hand could make contact.

Peter sighed and began to push himself into sitting position, closely followed by Tony. They winced at the same time. “My back,” they groaned in union, earning another round of laughs from the team.

“Huh. Looks like you’re elderly too,” Tony teased while he circled his shoulders to get rid of the stiffness. Peter grimaced at him and Tony felt envious when Peter stood up seconds later, seemingly unaffected by their sleeping position anymore. Ah, youth. He missed it. But he wasn’t old!

Peter waddled to the kitchen area, asking what’s for breakfast.

“The mission was successful. Target eliminated, proofs and anything even slightly incriminating was disposed of. By the way,” Sam looked at Tony, “you might have an incoming.”

“Yeah, the incoming already came,” he groaned. “A little warning would be nice. They crashed his birthday party.” His back popped. Finally! “Also, you should be lucky Pepper didn’t hear you. We’ve got a new rule that the business won’t be discussed with the kid on the same floor. She enforces that very well.”

“Wait, really? I wasn’t expecting they would be that fast. Do you think they planned to get him out at the same time as they transported Stane?” Tony shrugged and Sam fell silent for a second. “Did you save me some of the birthday cake?”

“There should be some in the fridge.”

Sam nodded. “What now?”

Tony let his back hit the couch. “They will take him away from me. They said so.” Peter sleepily laughed at something Steve said, his laugh filling the room. The idea of Peter being gone pained Tony. A small part of him hoped that the Parkers were bluffing. But bigger, more rational part told him they were serious. They will do it just to hurt him. No other reason.

He hoped the Parkers had good lawyers because Tony won’t give up without a fight.

“Wait, are you seriously going to eat cake for breakfast?” Tony did a doubletake at Sam after he returned from the kitchen.

Sam grinned at him. “You’re his dad, not mine.”

 

The following hours passed in relative peace. They ate, went over the carefully fabricated story. Then to lighten up the mood, Pepper dug out Monopoly game from some dark, forgotten corner. It didn’t take long before Tony and Pepper had the most property, Steve was trying to make sense of the rules, Tony kept giving some of his property to Peter because heir as Tony put it, Clint was broke, and a physical fight almost broke out between Sam and Bucky as Natasha watched in amusement.

“Join me. Together we can rule this Monopoly board as father and son.”

Peter laughed at the imitation. “Okay.”

Tony received a word that the work on the fence was done. The whole situation was bittersweet – a flaw in his security was pointed out, but on Peter’s expense. The culprits should have suffered more, he should have dealt with every single one of them himself for thinking they could hurt his, kid.

Shaking his head, Tony forced himself to let it go for now. He wanted to enjoy the time with his son. Too bad Rhodey left for work before breakfast.

He forgot about everything while enjoying the moment, Parkers included. At least until Happy rang shortly after lunch. “Boss, they’re here. With the police. You have to.”

Tony felt his heart crack at the way the smile slipped from Peter’s face.

“I… I guess I’m gonna go pack,” Peter said quietly and left the room with head hung low. Silent tears fell down his cheeks when he was out of the view. There wasn’t much to pack anyway, so he was done fairly quickly.

They all went to see him off, each of them giving him a hug. Tony went last.

“Just a little longer, okay? Just hang in there. I promise I’ll sort this out,” he said and pressed a kiss on Peter’s curls.

“Yeah. Okay,” Peter choked out. The hands holding him reluctantly let go and Peter crouched down to the furry member of the family. Friday was whining, sensing he was going away. “Hey, none of that,” he said gently while he scratched her behind her ears. “Keep an eye on them for me, okay? I’ll miss you,” he whispered as he hugged his first friend here goodbye.

Friday’s cries were following him all the way to the parked car nearby where his parents and some random police officer were waiting. Peter was sure that if Tony hadn’t told Friday to sit, she would have run after him.

Don’t look back. Don’t look back. Keep walking.

He did end up looking back over his shoulders. They all looked so sad to see him go. Peter gripped the straps of his backpack harder, his knuckles turning white. He tried to give them reassuring smile, say that it would all be fine, but… he couldn’t. He doubted they saw the twitch of the corners of his mouth. The movement was so fast and so tiny that there was no way they saw.

How strangely his life turned out to be. A couple of weeks ago, he would be delighted to leave and never see their faces again. And yet, now…

The door closed behind him with final thud, his mother sitting in the back with him. It’s going to be a long way back to the city. Nobody spoke. Peter was grateful for that. But he knew it only prolonged the inevitable.

Halfway to the city, he realized he left the blanket behind.

 

The apartment was the same as he remembered. Lonely. Empty. Quiet. Except this time, he wasn’t really alone, was he? He felt alone, though.

The door closed behind him. Peter quietly exhaled.

“Let’s sit down,” Mary said as she walked past him into the kitchen. Her tone was just so… unnaturally even it made Peter nervous. Richard remained quiet.

Peter’s schoolbag was still on the same spot he’d dropped it off on the day he was kidnapped. That meant Mrs. Davis didn’t come back since that Thursday. She would have put it in his room. Apparently, his parents weren’t bothered to do the same.

For how long they were here anyway? Did they just… arrive here yesterday or something?

Peter shrugged off his backpack, placing it at the foot of the table, then moving the other bag over there as well. He sat down, waiting. Who’s gonna start? He sure as hell won’t.

“Well?” Mary prompted.

Peter crossed his arms over his chest. “I don’t know what you want me to say. Why won’t you start? Like, for example, why was I living my whole life in a lie?” It kind of scared him how he managed to replicate her tone. He really didn’t have to have this conversation. But the least he could do was to steer it into different direction so he can avoid the main issue as long as possible.

“Peter,” Richard warned.

“What, dad?” he spat out the word.

“Peter, we get that you’re upset—”

Upset? Yeah, maybe. He’ll leave it at that now, since he can’t think of better word to describe what he was feeling. “God, you were married! You were married and you went to bed with another man.”

Mary shook her head. “We all make sacrifices for greater good in our line of work. Peter, I need you to understand that Stark is a dangerous and manipulative man—”

The rest of the words faded. All? All? Had… had Richard done the same? Did Peter have some half-sibling – no he’s not his son, so, step-sibling – running around somewhere in the world?

Richard must have sensed what was going on in his head. “No, you have no other siblings. We learned from our… never mind.”

Why the avoidance of the word if he had no problem saying it before? But Peter noted that he was the only mistake. Good to know.

“And there’s another thing,” Peter cut them off again. He felt his anger rising but the urge to run away grew stronger at the same time, “another thing you kept from me. Another lie.”

“We did it to protect you,” Mary said in a placating tone that only fueled the boy’s anger.

“And how nicely it worked out,” Peter said sarcastically. He was crossing all of the boundaries he wouldn’t dare to cross before, but hell if he cared. He almost died on several occasions, he was entitled to some form of outburst. “Why do you even bother? Pretend to care, I mean. After all, aren’t I just an accident? A mistake?”

That stunned both of them into silence. Peter gave them credit for not gaping.

“How… how did you come up with that?” Mary asked once she snapped back to reality, adding a little dismissive laugh.

“After Ben and May died. After it took you ten days to show up and get me from that foster home. Their apartment had really thin walls.”

And suddenly it became too much. The memory still hurt and painful pressure began to grow behind his eyes. He had to get away before he could burst in tears. Peter stood up, pulling both bags with him.

“I’m tired. I’m going to lie down,” he said and walked into his room before either of them could object, ignoring the fact that it was only quarter to five. He caught Mary’s murmur of give him time before he closed the door.

The room looked the same as well. Like he’d just left for school and just got back. Peter stopped near his bed, on the exact spot where fell after his feet got tangled in the blanket. He sighed. Why remember this now?

His phone he forgot about still lied in the same position on the bedside table. And, of course, it was discharged. He plugged in the charger and turned it on.

No message from Ned. The no phone rule must be implemented well. Nothing from MJ as well, but Peter didn’t even know whether they had electricity at that convention. Hadn’t she mentioned something about camping outside for most of the time?

But lo and behold – thirty missed calls from his mom. They won’t call his phone all year long, always just that home line that went straight to answering machine.

With a scoff, Peter threw the phone back on the table and went to lie down on the bed. He wanted to go home. But home wasn’t here.

It was there.

Notes:

Peter, no! T.T He doesn't wanna go.

So, here's the first part of the confrontation and trust me when I say this was very mild. More on Tuesday. And, uh, sorry in advance for the next chapter (hehe~)

Chapter 28

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Peter succeeded in avoiding possible confrontation during dinner thanks to snacks he had hidden in one of his drawers. He always kept some close so he wouldn’t have to leave the room while tinkering. It was also good thing that his parents were keeping their distance, apparently still believing that he was just shaken from the kidnapping and the things he’d learned.

If only they knew.

But, as Parker luck went, the relative peace couldn’t last forever. Sleeping without the blanket was difficult. A literal nightmare, you could say. Then breakfast came, and he knew he couldn’t avoid his parents any longer. Luckily, the breakfast was eaten mostly in silence. Peter kept his head down, not wanting to meet either of their eyes as they exchanged couple of random sentences that made no sense to him.

That was probably the point.

And then lunch time rolled around and Richard opened the door to his room. “I believe now it’s good time to have a chat over a nice meal.” Peter remained quiet. “I wasn’t asking, in case that wasn’t clear,” he said and left, leaving the door opened.

Reluctantly, Peter dragged himself to the table and ate. The food wasn’t as good as Steve’s. The table was silent, the only sound coming from the cutlery hitting the plates. Peter refused to speak first.

“Let’s start over,” Mary said, her voice full of control that made Peter uncomfortable.

Here it comes.

“You were kidnapped.”

That was a statement, not a question. No avoiding it now. “I was.”

“Sometime between Thursday night and early Friday morning,” Richard said.

“I guess. I went to sleep and woke up at unknown place.” That was true. Peter still had no idea where the lake house was located. And what time it was when he was taken.

“And you know by who.” That wasn’t a question either. He realized that Richard would be leading the interrogation.

Peter shrugged. “Some guy named Beck.” Technically another truth. It had been decided the blame would be shifted to him. When Peter had asked about it, Mr. Stark simply replied that it was all right. Because what were the odds of being kidnapped while being kidnapped? Seriously. Mr. Stark had also said that he didn’t need to worry about it and that Beck won’t bother him again. That the police took care of everything.

But Peter wasn’t stupid. He knew there was a possibility, quite high possibility, that the man was dead. He debated with himself yesterday whether to look it up on the news. For the peace of his mind, he decided against it.

“Oh, really?” Richard didn’t try to hide the fact that he didn’t believe a word he said. “Not Tony Stark?”

“He saved me,” Peter replied quietly.

Mary let out long exhale through her nose. “Stark had no idea of your existence, it was well guarded secret. There’s no way he knew. And he wouldn’t know unless he did a DNA test. Why would he do that test on some random kid that he’d just found? Why would he take you from there in the first place? That man has no heart. See, that doesn’t make any sense.”

And you do? he wanted to ask. They obviously didn’t know Mr. Stark at all. Sure, the man was rough with him at the beginning, but he put conscious effort into their relationship and he changed!

“Maybe because he knew that leaving helpless and drugged-up kid in that place was bad? I don’t remember much from the time I was there, as I was… you know… drugged out of my mind and possibly dying.”

He knew he was out for a long time. He also knew that wasn’t normal. Doctor Strange was vague, but Peter connected the dots, even if not immediately. Beck had tried to kill him via overdose.

No concern from his parents was expressed at that. Peter refused to yell. He took a deep breath before he continued. “Apparently, after they rescued me, they did all kinds of tests to make sure I was okay. Somehow, a DNA match came up. Mr. Stark then looked me up and remembered you.”

“And when he allegedly saved you,” Richard continued, “you didn’t think about coming back to get your phone and call us?”

“Ned’s family is having a detox from phones while they’re on vacation. I thought I would do the same. It’s not like anyone’s calling me anyway.” His parents shared a look and of course they had no idea who Ned was.

“Peter, we know you’re lying. Why are you lying?” Richard asked.

“Oh, am I? Do you even know my lying voice since you were barely present?”

“Peter.”

That warning tone again. Peter stood up from the table, the two adults doing the same.

“What?” So much for the resolve not to yell. “I gave you answers to your questions! What are you even upset about? That I was kidnapped or that I found out the truth? That it was him that saved me, not you? That he was right there, and it took you weeks to come?”

“You watch your tone,” Richard hissed. Mary lightly kicked him under the table. The action didn’t escape the teen. “And besides, you wouldn’t understand.”

“Yeah, I wouldn’t because you won’t evet try to explain it to me,” Peter said. “You said that my existence was well guarded secret. How many people knew?”

“Two,” Richard said.

“Ben and May?”

They shared another glance. Mary pressed her lips into thin line but neither of them said anything.

Peter scoffed, shaking his head in disbelief. He needed to get away from here.

“What do you think would happen anyway?” Mary called out after him. “That Stark would just take you in? Oh, yes, let’s just be a big happy family. He’s a criminal! He doesn’t care about anyone but himself. You’re nothing like him.”

“I’m nothing like you either,” Peter gritted through his teeth.

Richard stepped around the table. “After everything we’ve done for you?”

Peter felt something inside of him snap. “What have you actually done for me?!” he yelled. He had enough. He was so done with everything and everyone and he was so, so tired. “You were almost never there! If I counted every day we’ve spent together, it would only amount to about ten months. Ten months out of fifteen years! Was I even out of the incubator when you practically dumped me to Ben and May?” Peter watched Richard’s face twist. “Did they know that I was a mistake? Like it or not, Mr. Stark came for me when you didn’t.”

They would have left him there. They left him there! For days and days without a sign that they were coming for him. Whatever that something Mr. Stark told him about in the beginning was, to them, it was more important than he was.

“That my real father—”

He didn’t get to finish the sentence. Instead-

Smack!

Peter’s head whipped to the side. His cheek… he wasn’t sure whether it hurt or stung more. It felt like the time stopped as he kept his gaze on the wall, unmoving. Neither of the adults moved too.

He hit him. Richard actually hit him. And he didn’t look like he regretted it at all.

“You’re ungrateful,” Richard said, his voice low. “We could have left you in foster care after you were born.”

Peter didn’t look at them as he turned around, walking towards the door. Time to leave before it escalated even more. “Maybe that would have been for the best.”

“Peter,” his mother’s pleading voice was cut off by him closing the door.

He walked down the stairs and then out. Peter kept placing one foot in front of the other, first at normal pace, then faster and faster. Then he was running. He was running and he had no idea where his legs were carrying him. His eyes weren’t much of use to him – the tears clouded his vision, sliding down his stinging cheek. All he knew was that he needed to get away.

As far as possible.

Away from everything.

It was good thing that people of New York were always busy. Rarely anyone paid any mind to running and crying teenager. When he couldn’t run, he walked, never stopped moving before he could run again. And he just ran and ran, like he was running from the lake house before he knew the truth, pushing through the burning in his lungs.

Until he couldn’t anymore.

Peter bended over his knees, panting heavily to catch his breath. He was in a shade, so that was nice. He looked around and wow.

He really ran far, didn’t he?

He looked around the area, feeling the rest of his strength leave him as a wave of memories washed over him. He knew it here. But this place must’ve been abandoned for a long time.

Grass was growing through cracked concrete and every here and there, he noticed a cigarette butt.  He shuddered at the sight of a single syringe thrown on the ground. How anyone was taking that stuff willingly was beyond him.

Peter sat down on an old swing, the paint was flaking off of it. Just like from the rest of the swings and monkey bars and a slide that was missing one fourth of it.

This was the playground where Ben and May used to take him when he was little. It wasn’t the closest one to their apartment building, but they always took him here anyway. This place held so many nice memories.

On this very swing, Peter was telling Ben to push him higher and higher, so high so he would reach the sky. He fell off those monkey bars, making May fuss over his scrapped knee. That slide always left him charged with static electricity.

This was good place. And now it was gone. Just like them.

His legs could reach the ground now. So, ignoring the flakes of old paint that will definitely stuck to his palms, he gripped the metal and his legs pushed. The swing let out horrible screech, making Peter screw his eyes shut with a grimace. But the more he swung, the more bearable the noise became until it was reduced to tiny squeaks.

The buildings nearby looked abandoned as well. Peter knew he should be probably worried about it being dangerous here, but the past weeks – the weeks during which he almost died on several occasions – left him kind of numb. It was so quiet here. That’s all he really needed right now. Peace and quiet to process everything. To think.

Just him, alone, away from everything and everyone. Even if just for a while.

Peter did just that. He though about everything. For the first time in very long time, he felt like he could make a choice on his own. No one breathing down his neck, no one pointing a gun at him…

He lost track of time.

Then, his phone rang.

Oh yeah, he put it in his pocket before the disastrous lunch. Peter frowned in confusion when he looked at the screen.

An unknown number.

Eh, what’s the harm? “Hello?” he picked up. The voice coming from the other side stole the next breath from his lungs.

 

“I want sole custody. Their parental rights removed. Everything gone, unless he himself wishes to see them.”

Currently, Tony, Pepper and five of the best family lawyers were sitting in one of the Tower’s many meeting rooms. When they arrived, there were twenty of them, but Tony being Tony, he wanted the best of the best. But he also wanted enough of them. A literal mini army Parkers wouldn’t stand a chance against.

Each member of his mini army has never lost a single case.

“Work hard, work fast, and you’ll be rewarded the best you’ve ever been and ever be. I don’t want the whole process to drag out longer than it has to be.” To get the date with a judge in a few days’ notice won’t be a problem either. Because, hey, money.

The compound’s been so quiet with Peter gone. Nobody really felt like doing anything. The team missed him. Friday missed him. Pepper missed him.

Tony missed him.

It felt like there was a hole in his heart. Gaping and ugly. The forgotten blanket only managed to rub salt and lemon into the injury.

The kid he’d treated so poorly in the beginning that turned out to be his son, that saved his life and after the heartbreaking revelation… gave Tony a chance. A chance Tony’s not going to waste.

Would you look at that. Except Pepper, everyone in Tony’s close circle killed heartlessly. And just when you would say they have no heart… this boy comes along.

“I want this whole process started by tomorrow. If not—” His phone buzzed, interrupting him before he could let out any threat, which was probably a good thing. He glanced at the screen and if this was anyone else, Tony would simply hang up and continue. But Happy was given priority right now.

“Yes?” he answered. Tony gripped his phone tighter as Happy kept talking. “Where?” he asked, his voice cold. But Pepper knew better. From her fiancé’s body posture, she could read that he was worried. “Yeah, I don’t know where that is. Send me an address. Yes… Okay… I’m on my way… Keep an eye on him until I get there.”

Tony stood up. “Can you handle the rest?” he asked Pepper.

“Of course,” she smiled softly. Knowingly. “Go. He needs you.”

After quick kiss, Tony got into his car and began to drive to the address Happy texted him. He’s never been in this part of the city before. Only his people, so below him that he never interacted with them. He didn’t like the idea of Peter being out here, all alone. Well, not all alone.

He arrived at his destination. And there, he saw Peter, head hung low as he kept lightly swinging on the old swing.

He fished out his phone and dialed the number. He watched as Peter looked at the screen in confusion before answering.

“Hello?”

“What are you doing in an old park?”

Notes:

Me at Parkers while writing the scene: The lion, the witch, and the audacity of that bitch.

If you by some chance didn't hate those two yet, I bet you do now. (don't be an asshole that hits kids... and don't do drugs either)

But Tony to the rescue!

Chapter 29

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Stunned silence followed as seconds ticked by. Was he hearing correctly?

“Okay, I’ve got two questions,” Peter spoke suddenly, blurting out the first thing that came to his mind. “One – how do you know my number? I’m pretty sure I didn’t give it to you. And two – how do you know where I am?” As surprised as he was, Peter would lie if he said he wasn’t glad to hear Mr. Stark’s voice. It brought a certain sense of comfort. Tiny smile pulled at his lips when he heard hearty chuckle coming from the other end of the line.

“Come on, give me some credit here. Don’t you know who I am? I can find anything about anyone in a matter of seconds. Getting one phone number is no big deal. And for your second question – do you really think I would leave you unguarded? No offence, but that apartment building has terrible security.”

And there was no way Tony would leave Peter alone with those two. But he had something else to focus on right now.

“Now tell me what you are doing on that rusting swing. Did something happen?” he asked softly.

Peter shot to his feet, looking around frantically. “You can see me? Where are you?”

Tony clutched the phone in his hand harder. The kid looked so eager to see him, and Tony would love nothing more than to give his son comforting hug, but… you never know who could be watching. There could be Shield lurking around the area, just waiting for a chance to accuse him of trying something. “I don’t think it’s a good idea to see each other right now. Safety and all.” It pained him to say it. He saw Peter from his position, but there was no way that Peter would be able to spot him. “But don’t worry. I’m here.”

Sighing, Peter’s shoulders fell. At least he knew Mr. Stark was close, wherever he was. He sat back down on the swing. “Okay.”

“Tell me what happened.”

“They…” Peter hesitated. “Asked. It didn’t go that well.”

Peter’s body language, the tone of his voice – everything told Tony that he was not telling him the whole story.

“I mean – I told them what we went over before. And then it… kinda spiraled out of control.” Peter took a breath to pull himself together, his hand subconsciously reaching to rub the struck cheek before he caught himself and quickly dropped the hand back on this lap. “They don’t believe it.” There was a hint of fear in his voice.

“It doesn’t matter whether they believe it or not. They can’t prove anything,” Tony reassured him. But something rubbed him in wrong direction. If the confrontation went as well as it did back at the compound… “Peter, kid, I need you to be honest with me, okay? Did they yell at you?”

Peter said nothing. He just lowered his head, pulling his arms closer to his torso. Tony didn’t like this at all. He hoped he won’t receive positive answer for his next question.

“Did they hit you?” Tony asked, his voice flat, carefully hiding his quickly rising anger behind a wall. And Peter silently lowering his head even more was all the answer he needed.

What the actual fuck?! From what he knew and saw about his parents – god, it sounded so wrong to use the word on them – he doubted Mary would do it. But on the other hand, Richard showed quite a temper. “Was it him?

“But- but it was my fault too! I said some things I shouldn’t have, and I shouldn’t have yelled—”

“Okay, I’m gonna stop you right there,” Toy cut him off firmly. “We’re not going down that lane. None of that self-blaming bullshit. Richard’s an adult man and he should be able to keep his emotions in check. Even if you talked back, that doesn’t give him any right to hit you. Ever.”

Tony actually had no idea what went down in that apartment. Maybe he was just projecting his own experience from when he talked back to Howard. The man didn’t like it one bit. The echoes of “Don’t be disrespectful” and “Don’t question me” and “Why are you making me do this to you” never really died down. Most of the time, it rarely crossed Tony’s mind. But then there were those bad days…

Parkers made several mistakes already and Tony was about to make sure that this was the last one. But no, oh, no, the death would be too good for them right now. Tony will ruin them first, make sure every right person knew just what kind of people they are and ruin their careers. Those two will be brought down, suffer for what they’ve done and then and only then will they be disposed of.

But make it look natural. Plane crash, maybe? Mary avoided one already, but you know what people say…

What doesn’t kill you will try harder next time.

“It wasn’t your fault, you hear me? Do you understand? I need you to repeat that for me. No buts.”

Peter sighed. “It wasn’t my fault.”

Tony deadpanned. “That doesn’t sound convincing at all.”

Peter could practically feel the look from other side of the line. “I understand it wasn’t my fault,” he said louder, lifting his head. Small smirk appeared on Peter’s face. “You know, Steve wouldn’t like the word you used.”

Tony rolled his eyes, unable to hold back his own smirk. “Yeah, well, Steve’s not here, so he can kiss my a- behind. But you heard nothing. And no swearing for you until you’re at least twenty!”

“I’m a high schooler, I’ve heard worse!” Peter laughed out loud.

“Doesn’t matter!”

They laughed together. It felt nice to take his mind off of the clash earlier. Peter looked up at the blue sky above that the trees attempted to hide. “You know, it wasn’t always like this,” he said, lost in some faraway memory.

Tony’s head tilted, confused expression on his face. “Huh?”

“This playground,” Peter replied, kicking his feet and making the swing move. “We used to come here all the time – Ben, May and I. It wasn’t the closest to our apartment, but they still took me here. It was the best. At some point, I got too big to come here and I guess that something must’ve happened here and now it’s deserted. A pity, really.”

Even if Tony never met May and Ben Parker, from the way Peter talked about them, it was obvious he loved them and they loved him. And for that he’ll be forever grateful. He took a note to find the place where they were buried and leave a nice bouquet there as a thank you for raising Peter with love when he couldn’t. When he had no idea his son existed. That was all he could do.

Well, he could technically buy this whole neighborhood and raise it back to its feet so that maybe one day Peter could bring his own kids on this very playground to make nice memories too.

Yeah, he could definitely do that. After all, money’s not a problem for him.

“Hm, that sounds nice,” Tony hummed. “They sound nice.”

“Yeah,” Peter whispered, “they were.”

Tony’s watch buzzed. He glanced at the notification of a text from Pepper, asking if they were alright. His eyes caught the sight of the time. Crap. When did it get so late? “You know, you’re pretty far away from your apartment. I think you should head back if you want to make it home before dark… since I can’t give you a ride.”

Heavy sigh. “Yeah. You’re right.” Peter stood up, brushing off some of the colorful flakes from his clothes. “Stay on the line? Please?”

Tony smiled. “Who do you think I am? Of course I’ll stay on the line. And I’m walking you back as well, even if you won’t see me.”

“Thank you.”

Walking and talking, the more than an hour trip passed in a blur. Peter was standing in front of the entrance to his apartment building, looking around in hope to at least catching a glimpse of the man. Of his… dad. No luck.

“Can I call you back on this number?” he asked.

“Eh, maybe when you’re out of the building, which is honestly not a good idea with the current situation. And you never know who could be listening inside. You said so yourself – your old apartment had thin walls. Maybe… shoot me a text if something comes up?”

“Yeah, I can do that.” Peter’s eyes still scanned the street. Even if he saw nothing, his eyes set on one spot, unknowingly looking into Tony’s general direction. “Thank you. For everything.”

“Anytime.”

“See you soon?”

“For sure.”

 

“We’re leaving tomorrow evening. Pack a bag.”

Peter wasn’t expecting these words to be the first thing he heard when he entered the apartment. His mom was standing in the hallway, Richard nowhere to be seen. That was probably for the best.

“Okay?” he asked. “Why do I need to pack a bag?”

“Because you’re coming with us.”

Peter felt increasingly suspicious of Mary’s calm face. He had a feeling that whatever comes out of his mom’s mouth next, he won’t like it. “For how long?”

“Forever,” Mary replied without missing a beat. “The moving company will take care of the rest; you just need to take—”

“Wait, no! I can’t leave. I have friends here. School. Good school. Life!” Peter protested. They can’t take him away from here, they just can’t! He wanted to ask what gave them the right, but then he remembered that they were still his parents on the paper.

“There are good schools in D.C. too. You’ll find new friends,” she said, her face still betraying nothing. “Trust me, this is for your own good.”

Peter huffed in disbelief. “How is ripping me away from everything I’ve ever known and moving to the other side of the country for my own good?! I grew up here.” There was no way he will leave. He didn’t want new friends, he was perfectly happy with Ned and MJ. And good school? Please, the school from D.C. that their team went against in nationals was pathetic.

Mary let out a sigh that was somehow weary and annoyed at the same time. “It’ll do you good. Can’t you see that you’re not well? They messed with your head in that place. We’ll get you the help you need and you’ll be back to your usual self eventually.”

Peter frowned. “I haven’t been well since Ben and May died. Where were you then?” he asked lowly.

The calm façade fell. “Peter, this is not up for a discussion! We’re leaving and that’s it!” she raised her voice, then her jaw clenched.

First Richard shouted and now her too?

“What makes you think that you can just waltz back here all of the sudden and be a parent when you had no desire for that for the past fifteen years?!” Peter hissed. “Why couldn’t you just stay where you were for one more year? I would have gotten emancipated then and be out of your hair forever. There, problem solved. No more taking care of the mistake.”

Mary frowned. “Stop saying that.”

“Why? It’s true. That’s why you almost never visited, right? Out of sight, out of mind.”

“Peter, enough!”

“Or what?” Peter squared his shoulders. He knew he wasn’t one of the most threatening ones, but he refused to cower in fear. “You’ll kill me?”

Mary took a step back, whether offended or taken aback Peter had no idea. “I would never do that. I’m not Stark.”

“Well, those guys you brought along last time sure did look pretty trigger-happy!”

“We came to save you! Do you even listen? Can’t you see that he did something with your head? We can get you help for that.”

“After almost three weeks!” Peter yelled back. He was getting tired of the constant fighting. It’s basically all they did since they came here. Was some of the fault his? Yes. Was he tired of everything, of pretending that everything was fine? Also yes. “I could have died. I would have died!”

“I won’t be listening to this. Go to your room!”

Maybe Peter touched a nerve, maybe she was always this cold. He didn’t care at this point. “Gladly,” he said and walked past her, but not before he got last word in. “You keep repeating that Mr. Stark is heartless, but the way I see it, you’re the heartless one.” His voice was quiet and even.

That calm delivery of those words seemed to snap something in Mary. “Peter, please,” she pleaded, only for the door of Peter’s room to close in her face. She tried to open the door, to no avail. Locked. She raised her hand and knocked softly. “Peter, let’s talk about this.” Nothing. Just silence.

Inside and with shaking hands, Peter was texting the number sooner than he thought.

 

“I’ll get it,” Peter muttered when the doorbell rang. Morning came and he wasn’t packing. They’ll have to drag him out of here kicking and screaming. Mr. Stark replied after thirty minutes, saying that he will take care of it. Peter just hoped he meant it.

Outside stood old delivery guy in FedEx uniform, sunglasses covering his eyes and with a thick envelope in his hand.

“Can I help you?” Peter asked.

“Yes, I have a delivery for Mr. and Mrs.,” he brough the envelope closer to his face, squinting at the names on the slip, “Porker? Mary and Richard Porker?”

“That’s not—” Peter began, but quickly gave up. The man was old and working. Peter didn’t want to waste his time. “Never mind. Yeah, they’re my parents.”

“Ah, great. Here you go young man,” the delivery guy smiled and handed him the envelope.

“Thanks.”

Peter closed the door and walked to the kitchen. “This arrived for you,” was all he said before turning his back to them, making himself breakfast. He heard the envelope being ripped open, then rustling of papers, then quiet “damn it” as they left the kitchen and closed themselves in their bedroom.

Peter glanced over his shoulder, seeing they left some of the papers in the envelope. Curiosity got better of him. He approached, carefully picked up one of the papers and scanned the printed words. He started to get a general idea of what it was, his heart soaring with hope, but one part of the sentence stood out to him the most.

-are forbidden from leaving New York City-

A smile threatened to split his face in half. Well, it looked like he wasn't not going anywhere any time soon after all.

 

Notes:

So Parkers still be on that bull, huh? Well, not for long! Next time we'll see a certain pirate that has his super secret boy band.

Thank you for reading and have a great weekend. (That wasn't a suggestion and I wasn't asking either - I've already sent good vibes your way. You can't stop them. They're coming.)

Chapter 30

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

With Steve carrying a briefcase in tow, Tony walked into one of many meeting rooms in the Tower. It was only fair that the numbers should be even. Though Tony doubted that the people he was about to meet with would try and pull something stupid.

“You’re late.”

Nick Fury and Maria Hill were standing near the window, watching their every move.

“Fashionably,” Tony replied without really looking at them. Sure, the punctuality was important in the business, but here’s the thing.

Those two weren’t a part of Tony’s world.

Taking off his sunglasses, Tony plopped on the small couch, Steve remained standing behind him. Tony pointed to the seat opposite of him. “Make yourself comfy.” Fury sat down while Hill mirrored Steve’s pose. The only thing separating the pairs was a coffee table. Tony’s eyes darted between the two before rolling them in annoyance. “Come on, you two. Let’s keep this civil.”

They sat down, never breaking eye contact, silently daring each other to try something.

“There. Much better. So,” Tony turned to the head of the Shield, “may I know why you requested this meeting? Because I have better things to do and if it’s about the lawsuit against two of your employees, then I’m not backing down no matter what you say.”

Fury kept staring at him before huffing a short laugh. “You’re a strange man, Stark. We know you did it.”

“I’ve done many things. You have to be more specific.”

“You brought down Beck’s empire.”

Tony shrugged in response. “Maybe I did, maybe I didn’t. Do you have any proof? Whatever happened to Beck was well-deserved.” Tony leaned forward, hands under his chin and eyes narrowed. “Maybe he shouldn’t have touched things that weren’t his.”

“Oh? And what exactly did he touch?”

“Don’t bullshit me, Fury. We both know the answer to that.”

The tension was broken by soft knock followed by the door opening. “Mr. Stark? Ms. Potts sent me to bring you and your guests some refreshments,” a young woman said, smiling at Tony like he hung up the moon. Which wasn’t that far off for her, actually. She was one of the few saved from Beck’s house that decided to accept Tony’s job offer. Huge improvement from her previous experiences.

Lift someone up when they’re down and, for most of the time, they’ll be forever grateful. That’s how you get loyalty.

Tony gestured to the table in a clear go-ahead manner. The room remained silent for the entire time the coffee was poured. “Should I bring anything else?” she asked.

“That will be all,” Tony read her nametag, “Anna. You can leave.” Anna nodded and promptly left the room.

Few more beats of silence followed, both sides eyeing the other one.

“I’m starting to lose my patience,” Tony snapped. “If you’re really here just to waste my time—”

“You said something the other day,” Fury interrupted. “The day Stane – the man whose death should have bigger impact on you – was killed in our custody and we went to save the kid. Something that caught my attention.” He watched as Tony pushed himself up and walk to nearby table. “You should sweep your own front porch and take care of the vermin infestation. I don’t like not knowing things, especially if it’s happening right under my nose. I want to know what you meant by that.”

“Firstly,” Tony paced the room at leisure pace, “I already said how I feel about Stane. The fact that it was him that basically killed my parents and tried to kill me on several occasions, as we recently learned, didn’t help his case either. He can burn in hell for all I care.”

Tony ended up in front of the giant window. “Secondly, I don’t understand why my own kid would need saving from me. If anything, he needs saving from the people that call themselves his parents.”

“Why would you suddenly want to fight for parental rights?” Maria challenged, exactly like her boss asked her to do if the opportunity arose. “Wouldn’t it be better for everyone to return him to his normal?”

Steve spoke before Tony could. “Peter’s not returning to that environment.”

Fury crossed his arms over his chest. “Woah, possessive much?”

“I would prefer to use the word protective,” Tony said. “But Rogers is right. Peter’s not staying in that place with those people any longer than necessary.” He briefly paused. “Well, not like those people were present much anyway. If you really think those two are good parents, then you’re greatly misguided.”

“And you would be better?” Fury lifted one brow.

“Yes,” Tony said without missing a beat before his eyes flashed with anger. “Did you know he hit Peter? Just because the kid talked back? The thing that teenagers do on daily basis?”

Steve sat up straighter at that. He didn’t know about this. He also looked like he was about punch someone.

“Richard would never—”

“Oh, he wouldn’t?” Tony asked, anger seeping into his voice. “Are you really sure about that? Or did you already forgot how he was yelling at him? God, you’re more disillusioned than I thought! But that shouldn’t be surprising at all, I mean – with everything that’s been going on in your little organization.” Tony took a calming breath. “But one thing’s been on my mind since you showed up and ruined his birthday party. Mary – that I understand why you brought along; she’s a field agent after all. But why bring Richard along too? I thought he was an interrogator.”

Fury merely shrugged. “I thought that more familiar faces would make things easier for the kid,” he said before schooling his expression into neutral mask. “I guess I was wrong.”

“Damn right you were.” Tony stopped his pacing and looked the two agents dead in the eye. “Let me tell you this – I had my fair share of beatings from the man I called my father. I’m not letting that guy lay his hand on my son ever again. You may argue that it was just one time, but you don’t know that. You have no way of knowing that.”

After another five seconds of silence, Tony chuckled, as if in disbelief. “Would you believe that Peter actually tried to cover for that man? Saying that it was his own fault, that he shouldn’t have talked back. Kid’s just good like that.” He shook his head, getting rid of the smile. “I’m getting him away from those two even if it’s the last thing I do.”

“Alright, alright,” Nick waved his hands in calming manner. “I know nothing about that and it’s not my fight, but I’ll have a chat with the Parkers. And I know that I won’t be able to stop you from taking the kid the legal way. But that just brings us to your thirdly.”

“What do you mean?” Steve asked. He had a sneaky feeling he knew where this conversation was going. Fury was smart man. Every word leaving his mouth had a meaning.

“As I said, it was you that brough Beck’s empire down. Reason? He took your kid.”

“Almost killed him too but go on.”

“Beck was actually giving us trouble for quite some time now. I never thought I would ever say this, but… thanks.” If Nick played this right, he’ll get everything he needed. Even if he had to kind of use the kid to get it. “But the thing is,” he placed his elbows on his knees, “that there is one more group posing quite a threat to your child. I have a feeling you know who I am talking about.”

“Hydra,” Steve said. Despite being driven from New York, they were the only ones currently capable of seriously hurting, or even killing Peter.

“Yeah, okay, stop speaking in riddles and get to the point,” Tony snapped.

“I came to make you a deal,” Fury said, not showing the satisfaction he felt from catching Stark’s attention.

“What kind of deal?”

“You know things,” Nick stood up as well, “many things. Apparently you even know things that were happening right under my nose too.”

If Steve had a feeling about where this conversation was headed, then Tony was hundred percent sure about where it was headed. He didn’t appreciate people trying to manipulate him, especially by using the people close to him. He still hasn't decided whether he liked the conversation or not.

Because he could gain something pretty valuable from this too.

“I’ll get off your ass. Basically, you’ll get an immunity.”

“In exchange for what?”

Fury let out amused huff. “Businessman to the core.” Tony glared, unimpressed. “What I want is all of the information you have on Hydra. Names, locations… And if some other threat ever arises, I want information on that too.”

Tony raised his chin, scrunching his nose in disgust. “Are you trying to recruit me into your supersecret boyband? And why should I give you any of the things you’ve asked for?”

“Never would have thought about recruiting you. But think about it. If you give me the information I want, I can get rid of one giant pain in the ass that’s been bothering both of us for decades, which in return will make the world safer for your own son. We all know what they’re capable of. It’s a win-win for everybody.”

Tempting. Very tempting. Tony felt all three pairs of eyes on him, waiting for his answer. He casually reached for the briefcase Steve was carrying, pulling out a tablet. Fury was right. They can help each other out like this. He will take down Hydra for Tony, and Tony won’t have to worry about them going after Peter. He would do anything for his kid.

The immunity was just a nice bonus.

“You might want to start with cleaning up in your own ranks. Start with Rumlow, Sitwell, Rollins, Carson… your buddy Pierce, then there are senators Stern and Atwood… that scientist Zola too. Those are just few names I can remember from the top of my head. The rest is written here,” he held up the tablet for everybody to see.

Maria bit her lip. “That many. That high.”

“So,” Fury said, “do we have a deal?”

The two men stood opposite to each other, both stone-faced. “Don’t think for a second that I don’t know what you’re trying to do.” Tony extended his hand. With smile, Fury shook it. “I’ll send you the complete list,” Tony said. Squeezing harder, almost painfully, he leaned in closer. “You better uphold your end of the deal.”

Nick’s smile turned into a smirk. “A pleasure dealing with you, Stark.” His hand was released and without prompting, both Steve and Maria stood up. “We’ll be taking our leave then.”

“And Fury,” Tony called out after them before they could pass through the door, making them stop. “If you ever think about double-crossing me, remember that I know where you sleep.”

The man had the audacity to laugh. “Do you now?”

“You shouldn’t underestimate me.”

“Never would've dreamed of that.” And with that, the two agents were gone.

“Was that the right choice?” Steve asked once he was sure they were all alone.

“As far as Shield goes, those two are the most sensible and capable,” Tony nodded to himself. “Looks like there will be another massive wave of arrests coming soon. It will keep Peter safe and that’s what matters the most.”

 

“Was that the right choice?” Maria asked while watching the traffic around them.

“Out of all the mob families out there, Stark is the lesser evil. I would rather have him in control than someone else.” His phone pinged. The list was delivered. “As of now, we’re entering no-trust mode until we go through that list.”

“Understood.”

“That kid really helped us out without knowing it,” Nick said after a while.

Maria looked at him skeptically. “From which point were you planning all of this? The one where we found out what he did to Beck, Stane or even before that?”

Tiny mysterious smile tugged at his lips. “I simply made do with what we were given.”

 

The next several days passed in a blur for Peter. Both Mary and Richard mostly kept to themselves, holed up in their room and making various calls. Which, to be honest, Peter didn’t mind at all. He himself was spending most of his time in his own room, tinkering and generally messing around.

Too bad he couldn’t leave the apartment anymore – both of Mr. Stark’s and his parents’ orders. From time to time, Peter felt like climbing up the walls. There was only so much he could do in confinement of four walls.

Funny how he should be used to it by now. He’d spent several days like that after all, but… yeah. Not even then he got used to it.

Peter could hear that several people visited their apartment, he even managed to catch a glimpse of the man with the eyepatch when he was returning from bathroom. The conversation they were having at the kitchen table fell silent. Slowing his steps, he noticed that Richard looked rather… displeased to say the least with what was being debated.

Peter felt the man watching him with his one eye like he was studying him. That made Peter very uncomfortable. It felt like he could see into his head. Naturally, Peter lowered his head down, picked up his pace once again and disappeared into the safety of his room as quickly as he could.

What kept him sane was the thought that Mr. Stark was fighting for him. Wasn’t it weird how universe worked? One moment Peter couldn’t wait for the day to be as far from the man’s presence as possible, and the next he would give everything to be back there with him.

But still. He didn’t want to get his hopes up just to end up disappointed.

The universe had it out for him after all.

The highlight of the week was when they went to get their blood taken for court-ordered paternity test. Peter’s eyes lit up when he was Mr. Stark there in his typical suit and sunglasses, leaning on the wall and not impressed at all at the glares sent his way.

“Hey! Hey!” Tony called after the worker when all was done. “Make sure you don’t accidentally mix those samples up.” After that, he whispered to Peter as they were passing each other in the hallway a reassurance to hold on for just a few more days.

And now, Peter was staring at his reflection in the mirror, holding the sink in white-knuckled grip. Today was the day.

The day when his life will be decided forever.

Notes:

Okay, this is actually happening. One more chapter. How the hell did the time pass so quickly? How am I supposed to keep the track of days once this story and the semester are over?

The results for Irondad Creator Awards came in and thanks to you I was named a runner-up in in newbie writer category. That is so cool - considering how many great names were there as well, some even from this comment section, I'm really happy that I placed. Thank you guys so much!

Tune in for the finale on Friday. Thank you for reading and May the fourth be with you.

Chapter 31

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

A battle was raging inside of the courtroom.

“It was clear case of child abandonment. I think I should be pressing charges for that as well. Let’s add that on the list, shall we?”

“Don’t act so high and mighty, Stark. Don’t try to make us the bad guys when you’re the only criminal here.”

“Do you have any proof for those claims? Because those are pretty bold claims you have there without any proof. I’m a simple businessman.”

“You’re a criminal and a murderer!”

“Yes, because it’s such a crime to murder our competitor’s low-quality goods with our own high-quality SI goods on the market,” Tony said sarcastically. “But at least I don’t hit children!”

“That wasn’t—"

“Order in the courtroom!” the judge tried to regain some control over the two yelling men. This was the third time an argument like this broke out. Honestly, the judge was getting tired of it. “Both of you behave or you’ll be fined!”

“Feel free,” Tony said, but got his slowly slipping temper in check. He was able to keep level-headed for most of the time, except when he thought about Richard laying his hand on Peter. “It won’t take away from the truth about what kind of people those two are.”

Pepper placed her hand on Tony’s shoulder, guiding him to sit down. “Let the lawyers handle it,” she said quietly.

Tony took a deep breath, exhaling slowly as he looked around the room. He saw Mary talking quietly to Richard too, presumably calming him down. She’s kept neutral face so far, but the way her jaw was clenched betrayed her anger. Tony’s goading and subtle provocations had almost no effect on her. Unfortunately, the same couldn’t be said for her husband.

How could Richard be working closely with Fury when it was so easy to get a reaction out of him? The man practically blew up like a canister of gasoline lit on fire. Tony knew he had both the incredible talent and ability to piss people off and get reaction out of them while he kept his cool… but come on! This was far too easy.

Richard seemed like the type that took pleasure in screaming down at people. Guy had some complexes. Maybe he was compensating for something.

And speak of the one-eyed devil…

There was Fury, seated on the bench for witnesses, observing the whole fiasco along with Hill. Not a word was uttered about Tony’s possible involvement in Beck’s fall. The director kept his word.

The Parkers wanted war, so they got a war. And Tony wasn’t above playing dirty.

He didn’t understand one thing. As much as he hated to admit, the saying “one man’s trash, another man’s treasure” was perfect to describe the situation. They didn’t want Peter in the first place. Tony on the other hand wanted Peter. Shouldn’t they be happy about it? It was win-win for both parties.

But boy, was Tony glad Peter didn’t have to be present in the courtroom and hear all of this. It was best to keep him in relative dark about the whole process. Kid deserved a break.

“Now,” the judge continued, “let’s resume the hearing. Mrs. Davis, you may continue.”

 

Peter sat on a bench near heavy wooden door of the courtroom, blissfully unaware of the shitshow that was going on inside. He wished he could hear what was going on inside. His whole life was being decided in there after all. Or… well… his life at least until eighteen if he didn’t like the decision. He will be an adult then and he’ll be free do to as he pleased. But that were still three whole years…

He was rubbing the hem of his shirt again. He sighed, knowing that it was useless to try to stop the habit. He was too jittery.

“Here,” Rhodey said softly.

Peter accepted the offered bottle of juice that Rhodey got him from the vending machine. “Thank you.” He untwisted the cap and took several sips. He was glad there was at least one familiar face keeping him company. Peter had no idea what he would have done if it was some random officer.

“Hey,” Rhodey patted Peter’s knee, “deep breaths. Whatever happens, whatever the verdict is, it will be alright.”

“You don’t know that,” Peter said. “You don’t know… them.

Actually, Rhodey knew. Because he knew his best friend too well. He knew how stubborn Tony was, and even if by some miracle the judge didn’t rule in his favor, he would try again. And then again and again, be it legal or… less legal way.

Rhodey barked out humorless laugh. “Not to be mean, but… you do? Know them really, I mean.”

Peter exhaled through his nose, small sad smile appearing on his face. “You got me there.” A brief pause fell over them before Peter spoke again. “I just want it to be over,” he whispered, leaning his head on the wall. It’s been almost two hours since the hearing started.

“It won’t take that long now. I believe they’ll be done soon.”

Peter closed his eyes in response. The waiting was killing him, but now that Rhodey said that it’ll be done soon… it put him on edge. “How are the others?”

Rhodey smiled. “Sam found out about the high score change and chased Clint around. Natasha has a video. You’ll love it. Sam might chase you around for a bit too or prank you as a revenge once you settle in, but nothing drastic, so no worries. Bucky kept stress baking, but he’s too fast and we can’t keep up with eating everything. We might as well open a bakery at this rate. The rest is well.”

“Do you really think it’ll end well?”

“Of course it will! That Lego set is waiting for you and it won’t build itself after all.”

The heavy door opened, causing Peter’s eyes to snap open. He instinctively held his breath and balled his fists when people he didn’t recognize started to pour out of the courtroom. Rhodey stood up and placed his hand on Peter’s shoulder, sending him reassuring look. Peter gave him the tiniest nod before he turned to watch the people again.

He saw Mrs. Davis, but she didn’t notice him. There was also the man with the eyepatch that was in their apartment. And then finally-

Mr. Stark exited the room. His face was perfectly neutral, betraying nothing. He walked towards the pair, stopping several feet away from them. Peter held his breath as he rose to his feet, his eyes wide. He felt his heart beating wildly – why was he looking like that? Did something bad happen? What if something went wrong?

Tony couldn’t hold the façade any longer. The mask broke, leaving the biggest grin in its wake. Peter was still looking at him with those wide eyes, still not understanding, but he stood up a little straighter. Tony opened his arms.

“I know this will sound weird because of how the word’s been misused, but… come to daddy!”

Peter’s brain screeched to halt. It took him several seconds to process the words and their meaning. His eyes widened even more, his jaw slowly going slack before the corners of his lips curled upwards into bright smile.

“You mean…” Peter asked for confirmation.

“Yep,” Tony said, motioning for Peter to come in for that offered hug. He had a second to brace himself as Peter sprinted towards him, tackling him in a hug. Tony still stumbled but chuckled as he wrapped his arms around the boy. “I still wonder where all that strength is stored in that tiny body of yours.”

“It’s compressed… like a ZIP file,” Peter’s eyes were filling with tears, his smile turning wobbly. “And I’m not tiny.”

“Aw. I hope those are happy tears,” Tony said softly.

“Yes,” Peter choked out. “They are.”

“You know that means that you’re not getting rid of any of us any time soon, right?”

Peter could only nod. He didn’t mind that at all. “But you’re not getting rid of me either.”

“Never would have dream of that,” Tony said, shooting down any doubts and dark thoughts Peter’s had. “Never.”

They pulled away from the hug but still staying in close proximity. Tony threw one arm around Peter’s shoulders, holding him in side-hug as Peter wiped his tears. Pepper stood nearby, watching the scene with glistening eyes. A bit of red rushed to Peter’s cheeks when he realized that people were watching.

“Oh, Honeybear,” Tony smiled in disbelief. “Are you crying?”

“N—” Rhodey cleared his throat. He was looking at the ceiling, avoiding eye-contact like a pro. “No. I just have something in my eye, that’s all.”

“Sure you do, you big old sap,” Tony chuckled and shook his head.

Pepper walked over and petted Peter’s hair and the boy wasted no time in embracing her. Pepper’s shock quickly wore off and returned the hug.

“This is my moment, you had yours already,” she muttered playfully when Tony wrapped his arms around both of them, placing a kiss on each head. Peter still sneaked one arm around Tony’s back.

Fury, watching from afar, huffed a laugh, shook his head and with amused expression walked down the hallway, Hill with small smile playing on her lips right behind him.

Someone behind the trio cleared their throat. The three turned to face the newcomer, revealing no other than Mary Parker wearing carefully crafted neutral expression. Peter’s smile faded as he blinked up at her with curiosity. Richard was standing a little further down the hall, arms crossed and eyes pointed to the ground.

“Well,” Mary began, “you’re his now. With no business here anymore, we’re going back to Washington. The apartment will be sold since you’ll be staying with Stark from now on, so you can go pack your things. We’ll give you your documents and… we’ll be out of your hair.”

Peter could only nod, his eyes involuntarily shifting to Richard. He had a feeling that the man won’t come say a goodbye. “Don’t mind him,” Mary sighed, “he hates losing.” She closed the distance between her and her son, ignoring how Tony and Pepper shifted into protective stances, and gave Peter two awkward pats on the shoulder. “Good luck in life.” She turned around and walked towards her husband.

At least she had the decency to give proper farewell. But Tony wanted to get one last jab at the guy before they faced the consequences for how they treated Peter. “Parker!” he called out, making three pair of eyes turn to him, though they quickly realized who he was addressing. He looked Richard dead in the eyes as he pulled Peter close. “Don’t talk to me or my son ever again,” he said with shit-eating grin.

Richard scoffed at him and Mary began to pull him away. Sore loser.

“Did you seriously just used a meme right now?” Peter asked.

“You bet I did.”

“How do you even know what a meme is?”

“Clint gave me a brief rundown after you referenced a vine while in med-bay.”

“Oh... Okay.”

Tony turned to Pepper and Rhodey. “Will you give us a minute?”

The two shared a look before nodding. “We’ll wait at the exit.”

Tony’s eyes softened once they were alone. “How are you holding up?”

Peter rubbed his arm. “I don’t know. Even though I didn’t know what to expect, this,” he waved his hand around the area where Mary stood, “felt kind of… for the lack of better word – anticlimactic. I don’t know. I think I haven’t processed it properly yet.”

Tony hummed. “That’s okay. You’ve got all the time you need. You don’t have to feel bad about it.” They began to stroll through the hallways towards the exit.

“But,” Peter broke the silence, looking up at Tony with small mischievous smile, “the pizza in the box is whole again.”

“Wh- you—” Tony’s mouth opened and closed, struggling to come up with coherent sentence, “you remember that?!”

“It took some time, but the fog eventually lifted up. Though this is the only thing I remember from that conversation.”

“Out of all things you could have remembered it had to be this. Why couldn’t you remember some of those embarrassing things you did,” Tony said, exasperated. At Peter’s giggle the exasperation turned into deadpan. “Don’t you dare telling that to others.”

Peter shrugged, smirking.

Tony huffed out a laugh, but couldn’t prevent a smile from appearing. “You’re a little shit, you know that?” he asked while ruffling his son’s hair. “For real now – you didn’t just gain me and Pepper, but a whole group of crazy and protective uncles and aunt. I shouldn’t be telling you this, but they’re actually fighting about who gets to be the main uncle. Frankly, it’s hilarious to watch, so please, refrain from naming one for as long as possible. I promise it’ll be worth watching.”

Peter laughed. “They do?”

“They sure do. Sam’s arrival shuffled the cards a bit though.”

“Can I call Natasha “aunt” first to add to the chaos?”

Tony wiped a fake tear from his eye. “Peter, I’ve never been more proud of you.” He was so looking forward to that.

They caught up with Pepper and Rhodey near the exit. With amused smiles, they pointed towards the glass door. Tony walked closer and promptly snorted. Because there was the team, standing on the street anxiously, Steve holding a gift basket and Sam holding a blue balloon with “It’s a boy!” written on it. Natasha held Friday on her leash.

They haven’t seen Peter yet as he was shielded by the wall. An idea was born.

Tony pulled his face into neutral expression and with hands on Peter’s shoulder made his way towards the door, mindful to keep Peter from being seen. He waited until the door automatically opened, stood there for a few seconds to create more tension before pulling Peter in front of him with look-what-I-got expression.

The group erupted into loud cheers.

“Hey, girl,” Peter laughed when Natasha let go of the leash and the dog began to bark and jump around the boy, her tail wagging like crazy. “Aw, I missed you too.”

Sam laughed and tied the balloon to Tony’s wrist.

“Really?” Tony asked.

“Just go with it man!”

“Okay, get close you three!” Steve said as Clint snapped a picture of Tony, Pepper and Peter.

“And now group photo!” Bucky yelled.

“Even you, Happy,” Natasha dragged the grumpy man that tried to hide his smile. A random passerby took a picture of the happy family.

“You ready to go home?” Tony asked.

Peter looked up at him, his chest filling with warmth. It finally settled in. He had a family. He had a people that loved him, protected him and will keep on loving and protecting him. Forever. “Yeah. Let’s go home,” he said softly, eyes full of love. “Dad.”

The word never felt more right.

Notes:

So here I am, sitting in my room as I hit the post button on the final chapter. Thank you all so much for being the part of the journey - whether you are just a silent reader or regular commenter. I memorized quite a number of usernames here and was always looking forward to hear from you.

Thank you all so much for your support. You guys are the best.

But! Let's not make it sound like it's a goodbye. A sequel is coming! You can look forward to tropes like: protective Ironfam, Friday being a profesional wingman, fluff, angst, field trip to SI and third kidnapping (?!) That boy can't catch a break, can he... I still have to finish some school-related things next week, so give me a week and I'll be right back.

Meanwhile I'll be posting part four (yay pre written work, so you can read that if you want) of my Villain Irondad and Hero Spiderson series on Monday.

Well, I'll be going now. Bye and see you on Wednesday! (the other one)

Notes:

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(I can finally do clicklable links now - how's that for character growth?)

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