Chapter Text
Tony had always known there was something terribly wrong with Director Fury.
That man was badass, yes, but disturbing and terrifying at the same time. He had his own vision of the world and didn’t stand much those who were brave enough to disagree with him. Then, there was the missing eye thing, which was creepy and truly sounded exhausting, having to turn around every time just to take a look at things or people.
When Fury had called him in for a meeting of some sort, that same morning, Tony had immediately thought that something real bad was going on. He’d had no idea whether or not it had to do with the Avengers, if their intervention was needed, but deep down he’d hoped that was the case; days and months had passed from the Ultron incident, as to say; hours filled with boredom and nothing more. Tony had been spending a lot of time down in his lab, toying with his precious inventions and trying to think of something new, but truth was he hadn’t been able to think of anything. His brain was flat, which was exactly what usually happened to him when bored. That was no good.
Fury’s call had come unexpected, but relished nonetheless.
Tony had run down his wonderful and brand new tower, leaving Pepper in command of the company as per usual, and he’d flown all the way to the building that had once been the SHIELD Headquarters and Fury was now bringing back to its old splendour. He had flown, a missile in the clear blue sky, and landed safely less than an hour later; he’d walked the old familiar corridors busy with people, almost running towards the old Director’s office.
Which, he’d founded empty if not for Fury himself. And the madness had begun.
“Are you out of your mind?” Tony almost yelled, but Fury didn’t even flinch. He just stood there, tall and dark in his long coat, black eye-patch and serious face and all.
“You can’t ask me something like this, Director, it’s –“
“I’m not asking, Stark.” Fury sat down and kept on staring at him, and when he spoke again his voice was calm but firm. “My agents are extracting the boy as we speak. He is not able to control himself, and a simple orphanage wouldn’t hold him for long. It is our duty to take care of him –“
“You mean restrain him?” Tony snapped. “This is not –“
“He is a threat to himself and to those around him,” Fury talked on, nor bothered or impressed by his anger. “This is a temporary solution, until we manage to find a more stable one. I have sent for Doctor Xavier already, it is only a matter of time until he gets here; hopefully, he will help us taking care of everything.”
“God, Fury, it’s a boy you’re talking about, here!” Tony yelled, barely holding himself from slamming his iron fists on the glass table. “This is not a situation, for fuck’s sake! It’s a boy, a human boy, and you can’t talk about him as if he were some sort of cargo you’ve gotta take care of.”
“Nevertheless, I need your cooperation, and I will have it.”
Tony sighed. He opened his mouth to tell the Director where he could shove his cooperation, then thought better of it and closed it shut; he walked around for a while, suit creaking at his every step. That wasn’t happening, it was just madness.
“Seriously, Fury, this is not gonna work,” he let out then, exasperated. “I can’t do what you’re asking, and I don’t give a damn if you’re not really asking. I can’t take the boy with me, I wouldn’t even know what to do with him. Take him to school? Cook him meals? Come on, I can barely take care of myself, less of all of another human being. Even worse, a teenager!”
“The boy will be delivered to the Stark Tower at thirteen hundred today,” Fury said. “Good talk, Stark.”
And before Tony could even think of adding something to make his argument even more valid than it already was, Fury was gone in a swish of dark coat, leaving Tony to try and figure out what the hell he was gonna do now.
*
The boy entered the Stark Tower exactly at one pm sharp, escorted by two agents in black suits with the most serious faces Tony had ever seen. They walked the boy all the way upstairs, right to the apartment on the very top floor, and when the elevators opened with a ding Tony found himself facing the mismatched trio. So, this was the boy.
He was young, thin and not as tall as Tony had somehow expected. He had big green eyes and messy brown hair, his jeans were torn at knee-level and he wore a Metallica t-shirt, which alone gained him some points on Tony’s personal score. A big rucksack lay at his feet, old and bumpy with whatever it was he was carrying with him.
Once inside, the agents nodded and left, as fast and as silently as they had come, leaving Tony alone with a kid he’d never seen before. Silence reined on the two of them for a little while, heavy and uncomfortable, and Tony nervously cleared his throat, trying to find something to say to him. Only, his mind seemed to be completely blanked out at the moment.
“So,” he said, staring at the kid who stared back at him. “I’m pretty sure you heard about me already, but I guess I’ll introduce myself for the sake of pleasantries.”
The kid didn’t seem impressed; if only, he looked bored, and angry.
“I’m Tony Stark, and this is my sanctuary. The most beautiful building in the city, if you ask me. And you are?”
“Outta here,” the kid replied as he turned his back on him, picked up his bag and started walking towards the elevator. “See ya.”
“Whoa, where do you think you’re going?”
Tony quickly outran him and positioned himself right between him and his easy way out. He couldn’t let him walk away like that, not even if he truly had no desire for him to stay; Fury would’ve wanted his head on a plate if only he’d let the kid run out, and Tony was fond of his head, he liked it to be in its rightful place.
“Back to my place,” the kid said, a spark of challenge burning in his eyes. “Nice of you offering to keep me here, but I’m not gonna stay. Sorry to disappoint you.”
Tony fell silent for a moment as he registered the shade of anger in the kid’s voice. He knew anger extremely well, he’d been dealing with that for most of his life; he knew what power could come from it, and he definitely knew how to keep his under control when needed. He had his little tricks to do that, but the kid? He had no idea of how to deal with such an emotion, just like Tony had had no idea when he was the boy’s age.
“Sorry to be one breaking it to you, buddy, but you’re not going anywhere.” Tony grabbed him by the hem of his shirt and walked him back to the living room, forcing him to sit on a sofa. “Fury made it very clear you’re gonna stay here as long as it’s needed, and even if I don’t find the option thrilling, there’s nothing we can do about it. So, I’m gonna show you your room, and the rest of the house; I’m gonna tell JARVIS to take care of you in my absence, and sure as hell I’m gonna make sure you don’t do anything stupid like leaving this place unauthorized. Are we clear?”
The kid sighed, annoyed.
“You can’t keep me trapped in here forever, you know,” he said almost matter-of-factly. “Maybe they didn’t tell you, but I’m pretty amazing, and I doubt your little tower will hold me.”
“Oh, boy, do you really think you can scare me?” Tony grinned. “I’m the master of douchebags, kid, your little tricks won’t work with me. And believe me when I say you will not be able to leave the tower unless I say so, and right now, I’m saying you won’t. What’s your name?”
“Why d’you care?”
“Because,” Tony said, trying to use a calm tone and not to sound as pissed as he truly was. “We are going to stay together for a little while, and I don’t like calling you boy or kid all the time. So, what’s your name?”
“Peter,” the kid said angrily. “Peter Parker. Happy now?”
Tony smirked.
“Very,” he said. “Now come on, let’s have a look at your room. I have a feeling you might like it.”
The look on Peter’s face suggested he begged to differ, but he didn’t say a word and lazily got on his feet. He picked up his rucksack and followed Tony out of the living room, down a corridor full of doors on every side; they took a turn left only to find themselves in another corridor, but before they reached the end of it Tony stopped. He opened a door and walked inside, Peter right behind him.
“So, what d’you think? Amazing, eh?”
Peter looked exactly like Tony used to when he was young, and angry, and his father would show him something pretty spectacular; he tried to maintain the raged expression but there was something hiding in his eyes, something that resembled surprise and astonishment. Tony decided to consider that a little victory and started walking around the room, showing Peter all the beauties it contained.
There was one double-size bed at the centre of it, a big wardrobe on the side, and on the opposite a door that led to a private bathroom; there were also a flat tv screen, one of Tony’s newest laptops and as many videogames as every teenager could ever dream of. Sunlight shone through the big windows on the farthest side of the room, colouring everything in gold and orange as it filtered through the red curtains Tony had chosen personally. He liked red.
“Not bad,” Peter said, trying to sound as annoyed as he could. He approached the television screen and inspected it for a while, moving then to the laptop on the huge desk.
“You know, all the wonders in the world won’t make this place less of a prison.”
Tony’s smile cracked a little under those words, only because he himself knew they were nothing but true. Fury had ordered him to keep the kid, Peter, for as long as necessary, and had forced Peter to live there with him – no, not even his latest inventions were good enough to turn those living arrangements in something less unnatural.
“They won’t,” he said. “But it’ll help you keep your mind off of it for a while. I’ll let you settle down, I’ll meet you later in the common area. Ask JARVIS if you need anything, he’s always at your service. JARVIS? Help Peter feel at home.”
Will most certainly do, sir.
Peter startled for a moment as he looked around the room to find the source of the voice. This made Tony laugh a little.
“JARVIS is an artificial intelligence,” he explained as he approached the door. “Very handy, I must say. Ask him whatever you want, he will have your requests looked after.”
Tony then left the room and closed the door behind him. As he walked all the way down to his lab, he couldn’t help but think that it hadn’t been too bad for a start. True, the kid had some issues; he felt imprisoned, and he had every right to, and Tony knew he hadn’t acted too enthusiastic about the whole thing, but it could’ve been worse.
Peter was alone, and far from home, of course he felt angry and abandoned. He had been placed in an environment he didn’t know with people he had never seen before in his life, and that alone distressed him badly. Tony couldn’t really blame him for that, but still he had no idea of how to relate to him in a way the kid would understand and not perceive as hostile. He had been there himself, an angry teenager who thought the world couldn’t understand what he was going through, and really, were teenagers any different after all?
There was something though, something that made Tony doubt Fury’s intentions – wasn’t there ever? The man wasn’t to be trusted, or at least never completely. Fury hadn’t told him a word about what had happened to Peter’s parents, for instance; he hadn’t told him anything about what he was capable of, and it had to be something clearly spectacular if Fury had felt like calling Xavier about it.
The kid was a mutant, that much was clear by now. But what kind of mutant? What could he do that others couldn’t? And more importantly, what had Peter done for Fury to consider him a threat to himself and others?
“JARVIS, get me everything you can about this Parker kid,” Tony said as he walked into his lab and walked around some of the monitors.
Yes, sir.
He took a small pack of dried apricots from his jeans pocket and crunched it for a while as he watched the programmes loading before his eyes. The research didn’t take long, and not fifteen minutes had passed before Tony saw a picture of a younger Peter on one of the screens.
“Good job, JARVIS.”
Thank you, sir.
Tony put the apricots away and walked closer to the computers. He enlarged the picture that showed a young boy with bright green eyes alive with sparkly wits and looked at it for a moment; it was surely Peter, a few years back. His expression was relaxed and happy, so different from the one darkening his face now.
Sliding the picture aside, Tony focused on the file presented to him directly from SHIELD archives, no less.
Parker, Peter Benjamin. Born December 31st, 1999 in Queens, New York City, NY from CIA agents Richard and Mary Parker.
CIA agents, that was something.
As Tony kept on reading the file, a lot of things suddenly became clear. First of all, Peter had lost his parents when he was a toddler; he had been sent to live with his uncle and aunt, ones Ben and Mary Parker in Forest Hill, New York, who had raised him until, well, now. The SHIELD report declared them killed by a random thief not a month before, and the perp himself had been found dead a few days after the murder.
Tony’s eyes dropped a few lines down, drawn from the words ‘incident’ and ‘radiations’. Apparently, some incident had occurred when Peter’s school had attended a public exhibition about nuclear lab waste material, incident that had made a spider radioactive. The spider had bitten Peter and another girl before dropping dead to the ground.
SHIELD had been keeping an eye on the boy ever since, spying on him, and that was how they’d discovered what the spider’s bite had really caused. Peter Parker had been gifted with some sort of powers such as an incredible ability to cling to walls together with great strength and agility. So this was why Peter had gotten on SHIELD’s radar, and for a damn good reason too.
Dammit, Tony couldn’t believe Fury had decided to drop the kid on him like that. Peter was far more dangerous than he’d first thought, and how the hell was he supposed to deal with someone who was acting like a spider most of the time?
“JARVIS, call Director Fury immediately.”
Yes, sir.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing, Fury?” Tony snapped as soon as the Director picked up. “Leaving a kid like that in my house? It was bad enough having to take care of some irresponsible teenager, but this! This is so –“
I had no doubt you were behind the breach in our system, Stark.
“Don’t talk about stupid breaches in your stupid systems, Nick, and tell me exactly how the fuck do you think I can handle something like this.”
The line fell silent for a moment, and Tony wondered whether Fury was still there or had just hung up on him. That was definitely something he would do without thinking of it twice.
Honestly, Stark, I think you might be the only one who can while we wait for Professor X.
Tony sighed and fell ungraciously on a chair. Fury had gone crazy, there was no other explanation. Tony understood that SHIELD wasn’t one hundred per-cent operative yet, he knew it was impossible for them to have the facilities or means to take care of a situation like that when they were still trying to rebuild what had gone lost, but. Fury couldn’t possibly think it was a good idea saddling him with a probably instable teenager.
“I have no idea how to –“
Find a way.
The communication closed with a click, and Tony felt grateful he didn’t have a portable phone at hand to break, possibly against a wall. Fury was an asshole, that was it.
“JARVIS, take note: Director Fury is an asshole,” Tony said out loud. He actually expected JARVIS to do as asked. “He’s not welcomed in the tower anymore. He won’t have unlimited access, and make sure he won’t be able to override your protocols. Ever. Now, what should we do with the kid?”
I believe you must present him with a good meal, sir. Youngsters his age need energy, which suggest carbs must be a part of his daily diet.
“JARVIS, have you been researching on what boys his age need?”
Yes, sir.
Tony shook his head in disbelief. JARVIS was becoming more and more resourceful by the day, and he had never taken that into account. Still, JARVIS was once again proving himself extremely useful.
“Good,” Tony said as he eyed the clock on his monitor. “Do you think it’s too late for lunch?”
I believe so, sir.
“Right. Maybe a snack?”
That might be wise.
Tony nodded, mostly trying to motivate himself, and left the lab quickly. It was thirty minutes past two in the afternoon, and he had no idea whether young Peter had had lunch before SHIELD had picked him up from wherever it was he was staying. His teenage years were so long gone he truly didn’t remember what boys like Peter liked, or needed; if it were up to him, he would’ve fed the kid pizza and fries. He didn’t have any problem in feeding himself pizza and fries, so why should Peter?
Smirking to himself, Tony reached the door to Peter’s room and knocked once; when no reply came from the inside he knocked again, louder.
“Peter?” he called out. “Peter, is everything okay?”
From the room came nothing but silence, and Tony felt uneasy. What if something had happened to the kid? He hadn’t been there a day and there was already something coming up, how was that possible? Tony took a deep breath and knocked once again, silently hoping for a different result that didn’t come.
“I’m coming in,” he almost shouted as he grabbed the door handle and twisted it. The door opened silently and Tony stepped in the room, sunny and warm and empty.
“What the –“
He noticed then the window was open behind the curtain, and with a pounding heart he ran towards it. It was big enough for Peter to sneak out, but how had he –
“Dammit.” Tony slammed his fists against the window frame and looked down at the tower, noticing a movement only a few floors below. “JARVIS, get the suit ready. I’m going down to catch the son of a bitch.”
Yes, sir. Suit activated and ready to use, sir.
Tony ran back to the corridor and all the way down to his playroom to find his favourite armour ready to embrace his body. He needed but to touch the sensors incorporated in his wristwatch and immediately felt the familiar coldness of pure steel surround him. He secured the mask and check the internal scan, and when he jumped out of the building the launchers activated as promptly as per usual.
It took him less than a couple of minutes to fly the perimeter of his own building and find what he was looking for.
Peter – well, it had to be Peter, he was wearing some sort of red and blue suit and a mask – was climbing down the building as easily as a spider would have, jumping from here to there, window to window with a nimbleness Tony envied him a little for.
“You are so grounded, Parker!”
Peter looked up at him when Tony shouted, but he couldn’t make the expression hiding behind the mask; instead, Tony approached him as fast as he could and took the kid in his arms, ignoring his protests. He lifted him in the air, spider webs breaking as he did so, and flew all the way back to the entrance at the ground floor.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Tony yelled as they landed lightly. He took off Peter’s mask with a twitch, then lowered his own. “Do you have any idea –“
“Fuck off, Stark,” Peter cut him off, spitting on the ground. His eyes were burning with rage, his face a white mask of anger. “Fuck you, and fuck your stupid SHIELD!”
“You’re grounded,” Tony barked as he grabbed his shoulder and forced him inside the building once again. “You’re grounded until I say so. You will have no television, no computer, no nothing to keep you entertained. You will stay in your room and think about the stupid thing you’ve done until you put some sense in that stupid head of yours, are we clear?”
Tony shoved him into the elevator without even looking twice at all the people around them; he didn’t notice the way they looked at him, or at Peter, and he certainly didn’t care. That kid had just given him half a hart-attack by running away like that, jumping down a building that high. He could’ve fallen off, he could’ve broken his stupid teenage neck and then what? Tony didn’t feel like confronting Fury about something like this, and he knew that if the Director had found out things weren’t gonna be easy for both of them.
“For fuck’s sake, you could get hurt.”
Tony sighed heavily as the kid by his side didn’t seem to pay attention to his words. Knowing now what had happened to him, Tony could easily understand the reasons behind his behaviour; he could, but he couldn’t let him get away with that. Whether he liked it or not, Peter was his responsibility at the moment, and he had to keep him safe. How could he do that when the kid was just gonna find new ways to run away? Fuck.
“JARVIS, lock down the windows in Peter’s room,” Tony ordered as he finally reached the corridor and together with the kid walked through the still open door. “He’s not allowed in the tower by himself, he’s not allowed to go outside, and today I want him in his room until I come get him myself, are we clear?”
Yes, sir.
“Fuck you,” Peter hissed, and Tony felt something moving in his guts.
“One day you might even thank me for this.”
When he left, shutting the door closed and heading down to his lab again, Tony tried to erase the look in Peter’s eyes from his mind, unsuccessfully.
*
It was seven thirty in the afternoon when Tony came knocking to Peter’s door for the second time that day. New York skyline was slowly fading into shades of pink and red as the sun set over the city; the first stars feebly shone, overshadowed by the lights below.
“Peter, it’s time for dinner.”
When the door opened Tony offered a still angry Peter half a smile. He didn’t want the kid to keep fighting him, and he had decided that showing kindness was maybe the key to win him. True, it required hard work, but Tony was confident enough he could do it; he was, after all, one of America’s most loved men.
“’m not hungry.”
The door closed right to his face.
Tony opened his mouth to yell something, then thought better. He sighed, and he knocked again.
“I know you are,” he said. “Come on, I ordered some pizza.”
“Still not hungry, old man.”
That was impossible. Everyone loved pizza, every single person on the stupid planet, and no one would refuse a slice even when not hungry. So, Peter was lying.
Tony remembered when he was the one hiding behind a closed door, when he was the one thinking there was no way in hell his father would understand what it was that he was going through. He remembered what that felt like, that unpleasant sense of loneliness wrapping his heart tightly; he remembered how the anger was the only thing allowing him to put the loneliness away. It wasn’t real – maybe partly, yes, maybe it partly was, only because he had pushed people away and they had eventually left. Oh, he couldn’t see it back then, he couldn’t know, and the years passing by had taught him an important lesson.
No matter how lonely you think you are, there is always someone by your side if you only let them.
Tony realized he didn’t want Peter to make the same mistake – hell, he didn’t want any teenager to make the same mistake. He wanted to tell them it was okay to be sad, sad wasn’t always a bad thing but a phase everyone has to go through from time to time. He wanted to tell them that being sad would only make things look brighter in the end, when the clouds fly away and the sky goes back to its beautiful and natural blue.
He wanted to tell Peter it was okay for him to be angry now that he was alone in the world, now even the last members of his family were gone forever; it was okay, and it hurt, but things would get better in time.
“Peter –“
“I. Am not. Hungry,” Peter articulated loudly.
“Okay,” Tony let out. “Come find me when you are.”
*
Peter hadn’t gone out of his room for seven days straight.
Well, that wasn’t exactly true; Tony knew he had gone out of his room in the middle of the night, sneaked into the kitchen and eaten some pizza when he thought everyone in the tower was asleep. JARVIS had informed him of the kid’s every move, and if at first Tony had thought to go meet him in the lounge, in the end he had decided not to.
Peter was going through something too huge for a kid his age. He was fifteen, had already lost his parents and recently he’d lost his aunt and uncle, too. He was literally alone in the world, and that, Tony knew it first-hand, was the scariest thing there ever was.
He was older when he’d lost Howard, when he had found himself facing a world he didn’t want to face. It hadn’t made it any easier.
No kid should be allowed to lose it all the way he and Peter had, just like no parent should be allowed to bury their own kids. Still, things like that happened all the time, and kept on happening no matter what Tony or whoever else thought about it.
No, Tony had decided to leave Peter some space, to help him adapt to the new surroundings the way he wanted to. He didn’t want to force him so soon, and maybe time was everything Peter needed to abandon that diffidence he was drowning in.
Fury hadn’t called once, not to ask about how Peter was doing and certainly not to ask about how Tony was dealing with the whole thing. It seemed like good ole Director had dropped the bomb and forgotten all about it, which was exactly what Tony would expect from someone like him.
“JARVIS, order me some Italian tonight,” Tony said as he stood up and arched his back, which resulted in some creaky weird noises from his bones. He was getting old. “And order some for Peter, too. Tell him dinner will be served at seven, and this time I want him to be there. Tell him he can go back to his room as soon as dinner’s over.”
Yes, sir.
Tony left his lab after he’d been down there for something like thirty hours straight, and when he reached his own apartment he jumped in the shower and moaned when the hot water jet invested his body. He lingered in there for half an hour at least, maybe more, and was almost tempted not to leave the shower when he remembered Peter, and the dinner. So he got out, dried quickly and wore an old pair of jeans and a Pantera t-shirt together with his favourite sneakers, so old to and worn out he should’ve really thrown it away.
When he walked through the kitchen door, he didn’t expect to find Peter there so soon.
“Hey,” Tony couldn’t hide his surprise. “Didn’t think you were here already. How is it going?”
“JARVIS told me you wanted me down for dinner,” Peter said coldly. “And I can go back to the room as soon as I’m done. No need for pleasantries.”
Tony took the hit as quietly as he could, and acted as if nothing had happened. He took the steaming delivery and put it on the table together with two plates and cutlery, then divided the portions and left the rest of the food in the plastic containers.
“Fair enough,” he said, rolling his spaghetti carbonara with a fork. “No pleasantries.”
Peter seemed surprised by how easily Tony had given in to his request, but said nothing about it and started devouring his food as fast as he could, not even looking at Tony once. He took a second portion of pasta, then some roast and the fabulous tiramisu cake Tony loved so much.
“Can I go now?”
Tony didn’t rush in chewing his mouthful. He drank a sip of red wine and cleaned his lips with a napkin before looking up from his food and directly to Peter.
“You can go when I’m done, too.”
Peter opened his mouth to argue, then closed it shut; he gritted his teeth for a moment but remained silent, and fell back on his chair with his arms crossed.
Tony didn’t as much as look at him, but deep inside he knew that counted for something. Sure, Peter was ready to flee the room as soon as he’d let him, but he was still there now, still sitting, silent but present.
*
“I think you should go back to school.”
Tony eyed Peter from his seat on the table, and noticed a few contrasting emotions crossing his face in a blink. Peter looked scared, and sad, and somehow happy, as if going back to school was something he was partially looking forward too. He had been living in the tower for almost a couple of weeks now, completely isolated from the world outside. Sure, he had television (Tony couldn’t find it in his heart to deprive the kid from it, even if he had deprived him from videogames for a few days), but looking at the world through a screen wasn’t as living it at its full potentials. He bet Peter missed it, his normal life and his friends and maybe a girlfriend, who knew.
“Fury hasn’t said a word about it,” Tony talked on. “Well, if I have to be honest, Fury hasn’t said a word about anything lately. So, I guess I’ll be the one making this call. I don’t think it’s good for you to stay here all the time, and I know I can’t let you go out on your own because you might, and please notice the modal verb here, try to run away again, and you must know by now I can’t let that happen. So.”
Peter looked sceptical, but not angry. That was a first.
“So, I think I’ll find you a nice summer school you can go to since it’s almost June and yours is probably closing up for summer holidays already. What d’you think?”
“I think you can do whatever you want,” Peter replied dryly, and Tony shook his head no. That wasn’t how he was gonna play it, he didn’t want Peter to hate him for something he didn’t even have the right to decide.
“I could,” Tony corrected him. “But I won’t. You’re fifteen, you maybe cannot make your own choices yet, but sure as hell you have a say in it. Which is why I really wanna know what you think about it, and we can find something together.”
Peter fell silent for a moment, toying with his fork; his gaze and mind were lost somewhere Tony couldn’t reach, and he could almost feel all the thoughts running through his head; Peter was thinking of what that meant, being able to help make a call that regarded him and him only. He was also thinking of what Tony meant by letting him, and probably considering the pros and cons that going back to school had; he was thinking maybe of seeing his friends again, of going back to a normal life that some incident and a stupid mugger had so suddenly took away from him.
“I’d like to think about it, if it’s the same to you,” Peter said finally, and Tony simply nodded. Half smiling and incapable of holding himself from doing it, Tony stared at the kid with something new in his eyes.
“Sure. And I was thinking… How about we go have dinner somewhere else tonight? You must be sick and tired of this place already, even if it’s the most beautiful place in the whole world, and trust me, I know.”
When Peter replied with an annoyed, “Yeah, whatever,” Tony decided it was enough for him.
“Cool, now go and read some book,” he told him. “Or maybe go to the gym, or do whatever you like, really. I do hope you won’t have me suiting up to catch you, and I truly hope you like shawarma.”
“Whatever you say, ol’ man.”
Peter put his bowl of cereals in the sink before leaving the kitchen, and Tony noticed he didn’t look as angry as the day he’d come there. He didn’t look happy either, but it felt like some of his burning rage was slowly wearing off, maybe to leave room for the bigger sadness the kid had ever known; Peter was going to truly understand his place now, everything that had happened to him was going to sink in and that, that was gonna leave him breathless for a long, long time.
But sadness was okay, sadness was just another stage of the acknowledgment Peter had to go through; sadness was gonna bring him a million tears to cry against his pillow in the middle of the night, it was gonna take his breath away with the strength of a natural disaster. Sadness was gonna beat him senseless, leaving him exhausted and strength-deprived on the cold floor of his room. It was okay, it was, because there was only one way to go from there, and the way was up. It wasn’t gonna be easy, but Peter looked like a kid who could go through all that and still rise victorious, stronger than ever before.
Miss Potts on the line, sir.
“Thank you, JARVIS. Hey, Potts.”
Hello, stranger. Haven’t heard from you in a while, I thought I would just check in.
Tony gave her a heart-felt laugh and could almost feel the soft smile stretching her lips.
“Everything’s fine,” he said happily. “I think we’re making some progress with the kid, or maybe I’m just going senile and don’t notice how bad things really are. Even if I truly believe the first option’s the right one. Anyway. How is it going, with running the company and all?”
Alright as usual. Exhausting as usual. I need you to sign some documents about the new prototype we’re gonna present the Mayor, I’ll have someone handling the papers to you by tomorrow.
Tony started putting the dishes away and nodded, only to remember Pepper couldn’t see him since they were on speakerphone and not on a video call. Buggers.
“Right-o, I’ll sign everything and have it sent back to you ASAP. Happy?”
Very.
Silence fell upon them, of the uncomfortable sort. Things were good, but not as good as they were before the break-up. True, they were still friends, sort of, but a lot of the complicity that had united them in the past was now gone, replaced by some awkwardness Tony had no idea how to overcome.
It was still them, after all, still wonderful them, with their wonderful way to deal with each other. Maybe it was gonna take some time, Tony thought as he crunched the left over cereals in Peter’s bowl; maybe if he was patient enough to wait things were going to go back to normal.
So, this kid of yours. For how long is he gonna stay exactly?
“Wish I knew,” Tony let out with a sigh. “Haven’t heard from Fury since the day the kid got here.”
Any idea what Fury has in store for him?
“Not really.”
Tony could almost see Pepper nodding to his words, her expression focused; he could almost see her biting her lips while thoughts ran streaming in her head, he knew her well by now. He also knew she was thinking on how exactly Fury planned on working things out, of what he would do with the kid after removing him from the tower. Tony had thought of that himself, and hadn’t come up with any possible solution; Fury was unpredictable and crazy after all.
Okay. Keep me posted?
“Will most definitely do.”
Tony heard the phone call ending with a metallic click and wandered around the kitchen for a while, drinking a third cup of coffee and loading the dishwasher, which was something he wasn’t used to. He never used the dishwasher, usually there was someone else doing it for him, the same maid that took care of the cleaning of the upper floors. Today, Tony loaded the machine all by himself, as he thought the poor woman had already a lot to do to keep up with Peter and the state of his room and clothes.
It was fun, cleaning the dishes of the leftover food and putting them in pile for the machine to wash; it felt like going through some familiar motions that weren’t familiar at all.
Tony refilled his cup with some more steaming hot coffee and walked to the couch where he collapsed ungraciously, eyes to the ceiling and mind elsewhere. Was he really going to take care of the kid’s education now? Fury hadn’t asked him, and for sure it was something he could avoid doing, but the point was he wanted to. Not just because Peter couldn’t stay locked up in the tower forever, but because Tony truly believed he needed to spend some time with kids his age. It was going to do him nothing but good, and maybe it could help make him feel normal again, however the turns in his life couldn’t disappear just by magic.
Sir, there is a visitor.
“Whoever it is, send them away. I’m not in mood for seeing people today, JARVIS. I just wanna collapse on this couch for a few hours before starting to make some phone calls about Peter’s school. Clear?”
Yes, sir. I will tell Captain Rogers you won’t be able to receive him today, sir.
Tony straightened from his lazy pose on the couch and jumped on his feet.
“Why didn’t you say it was Rogers, JARVIS? Send him up.”
Tony hadn’t seen Steve in quite a while now. They had parted ways after saving the world – again –, Steve being with Natasha and Falcon and Tony going back to his most beloved New York. Tony had thought about him, him and the others, about how they were doing wherever they were and such; it felt weird not being around each other anymore now that peace was restored and the world wasn’t going to face any deadly threat soon. It felt weird not being in touch after spending so much time together, laughing or fighting or jumping at each other’s throats even.
The Avengers were currently disassembled, and Tony knew it was for the best things stayed that way. He knew it, it was obvious, still he couldn’t help but remember the time they spent together with a weird sense of fondness that wasn’t there before.
He missed them a little bit.
The elevator doors opened with the usual ding and Tony found himself striding across the room, impatient to meet an old friend and terribly happy to have the chance to. The very first thing Tony noticed was Steve’s half smile, as if he was thinking of something nice (rainbows and kittens, probably) that made his lips curl up in a cute way; then he noticed Steve’s eyes, as blue as they’d ever been, maybe bluer, bits of an ocean nestled in between long eyelashes.
Steve was wearing his street clothes, jeans and a shirt and that old leather jacket of his, and had never looked better.
“Tony.”
“Rogers.”
Tony put his mug aside without a second thought and stepped forward as the elevator doors closed behind Steve; he opened his arms almost automatically and Steve seemed quite happy to hug him back. They looked at each other for a moment, busy registering the simple fact they were together again after all this time, and there was a comfortable silence surrounding them like a warm blanket.
“Been a while, Tony,” Steve smiled. “How are you doing?”
Tony smiled back as he led Steve towards the lounge.
“Busy, as per usual. Apart from that, I’m doing great. How are the newest additions to our team doing down in DC?”
“They’re good,” Steve replied. “They still need a lot of training, but there’s great potential in each and every one of them.”
“And the Maximoff kid? Is he gonna be alright?”
Steve nodded.
“He’s already much better,” he said. “Sure, he needs time for a full recovery, but it seems he’s a fighter. It took him less than a week to go around on his own after the surgery, and the doctors have to put a lot of effort in keeping him still. He’s giving them a hard time.”
“If the news’ so good, why don’t you look happy, Cap?” Tony asked, not at all convinced by the look in Steve’s eyes. There was something he wasn’t telling him. “What is it? Spit it out.”
Steve sighed and took his head in his hands. That was probably the more fragile Tony had ever seen him, and he’d seen Steve when he was doing pretty bad after a battle. This wasn’t some physical wound that could be cured, it wasn’t the kind of weakness that came from getting beaten senseless by some bad guy. This was something that was affecting Steve’s emotions, and Tony knew him enough to understand those were the most dangerous wounds one could inflict him.
“Fury found out something about them,” Steve let out, looking right back at him. “About the twins. Something huge.”
“What is it, Steve?”
“They’re Magneto’s children, Tony.”
Tony opened his mouth and closed it again immediately. Magneto’s children? That couldn’t be. Of course, the twins’ powers were strong enough to kind of confirm that theory, but –
“How?” he asked, with the only result to make Steve chuckle.
“Aren’t you a little old for me to give you the ‘bee and the flower’ talk, Tony?”
“Ha-ha, so funny, Rogers. Look, I’m laughing.” Tony glanced at him and gave him one of his most horrible fake laughs, which made Steve chuckle even louder. “Seriously though. Who’s the mother?”
“She was Russian,” Steve explained as he regained his seriousness. “She’s dead, as you know the twins grew up in an orphanage.”
“And Magneto? Does he know about them?” Tony asked, and Steve shook his head no. “Good. That’s good, it gives us some more time to figure out what to do with them. Do they know?”
“Fury doesn’t want to tell them. They might decide to go after him, and we all know how dangerous that man is.”
“More like, completely mental,” Tony affirmed. “God, we are surrounded by troubled kids these days, aren’t we. I presume you know about Peter?”
Steve nodded.
“Fury told me. He kind of… well, he kind of sent me to check on how you guys are doing.”
“He did what?” Tony snapped.
Steve looked like he was expecting this sort of reaction from him, he knew him that well; he nodded slowly but kept silent for a while, giving Tony time to take it all out. And Tony did, oh, he did.
“He drops the kid at my door and doesn’t even bother to call. He said it was a temporary solution, and I haven’t heard from the son of a bitch since. This is –“
It was outrageous, that’s what it was. Fury was the worst bastard on the planet, and Tony was starting to get sick and tired of him and his orders; he couldn’t play with people like that, as if they were nothing but puppets in his hands and he the one who got to pull the strings. Because he wasn’t, and Tony couldn’t wait to tell him to his stupid, Cyclops face.
“Look, you’re angry, I get it,” Steve offered quietly. “I don’t know how I would react to something like this. But the truth is, there is no other place for the kid to stay, Tony. Fury might be a son of a bitch, but he’s trying his best to find a more permanent solution, and do I have to remind you he’s rebuilding SHIELD from scratch? There’s a lot going on these days, and –“
“Why don’t let Peter stay with the Avengers, then?” Tony barked. “With the twins and you guys. It would definitely be better than to lock him up here with me, he’d be with someone his age and maybe, just maybe, things could be different.”
Steve sighed and shook his head with determination. When he looked up, Tony could see it in his eyes how badly he wanted to help, and how incapable of doing so he was. Steve was frustrated, and for the first time Tony noticed how tired he looked, drained of all his usual energy.
“The kid is dangerous, Tony. He’s a threat to himself and to others, how would you think it possible to let him stay with the twins? Anything could go wrong at any time, and what then?”
Tony jumped on his feet and ran his hands through his hair; his chest falling and rising, he looked at Steve right in the eyes and hoped he of all would get it, hoped that Steve would understand what Fury and everyone else seemed too busy or not enough concerned to see.
“Peter is not a threat to anyone, Steve!” he shouted. “For fuck’s sake, he’s just lost everything, literally everything, and yes, he’s troubled, but wouldn’t you be in a situation like that? Fuck, Steve, cut the crap already and see what we’re dealing with, here. Peter is a kid, just a kid; he’s no threat, he’s just going through a very rough time. He needs our help, and staying here might not help at all.”
“He’s not ready to stay with the Avengers, Tony,” Steve said. “He could be, one day, when he’s learned how to control himself and his emotions. He’s an angry kid, that can’t do any good to the group.”
Tony sighed in exasperation. He couldn’t believe Steve was on Fury’s side on this; Steve had gone through that kind of pain himself, he should’ve known better than to treat Peter as an outcast and point at him as a freak.
“Steve, this isn’t –“
Both Tony and Steve turned when they heard someone clearing his throat, and Peter was standing on the doorframe, arms crossed to his chest and an impudent look on his face.
“Am I interrupting something?” he asked, almost amused.
Tony took a deep breath and shook Steve an admonitory look before walking towards the kid with a friendly smile on his face.
“Not at all,” he said, stopping in front of him. “Just me and Steve catching up. Steve, this is Peter Parker; Peter, this is my friend Steve.”
Peter nodded in Steve’s general direction and his gaze wandered from him to Tony for a few moments.
“Hey, Peter. Nice to meet you.”
Steve reached them and stretched his hand for Peter to shake, and Peter did. He looked a little bit suspicious maybe, but played it cool anyway.
“Are you that kind of friend?” he asked, and he gave a little laugh when Tony looked a little shocked and the tips of Steve’s ears turned of an indecently adorable shade of pink.
“Er, no,” Tony said quickly. “Not that kind, no. Just friends. Steve came to visit from DC.”
“How about you, Peter?” Steve asked, all nice smiles and bright eyes. “Has Tony managed to drive you mad yet? He has that effect on people sometimes. Well, most of the time, really.”
Peter’s lips stretched in the hint of a smile and he shrugged.
“He’s doing alright.”
“Good,” Steve nodded. “Give me a call if he gives you any trouble.”
“Will do.”
“Hey, you two!” Tony exclaimed. “I won’t allow you to talk about me in these terms, are we clear? Steve, you’re a horrible person. Peter, Steve’s a horrible person, never trust him. He’s too goody to be trusted, and this makes him horrible.”
Steve shook him an offended look but didn’t bother to reply. Instead, he turned to Peter and blessed him with another of his wonderfully bright smiles, to which Peter replied with a crooked one.
“Ignore him, he’s a terrible prima donna,” Steve laughed. “I was about to get some refreshing drink, even if Tony didn’t even offer. Join me?”
“Yeah, okay.”
Tony watched with wide-open eyes Steve and Peter walking away from him, talking small talks as if they had known each other forever. Maybe it was Steve, Tony thought with a hint of jealousy; Steve seemed to make everyone at ease with no effort at all, maybe because of the way he smiled or maybe it had something to do with the soothing tone of his voice, Tony didn’t know for sure. Still, Peter was actually talking to him, fragmented sentences but sentences nevertheless.
Peter wasn’t smiling, but he was listening to everything Steve had to say and Tony could swear he’d seen the tiniest sparkle of interest shining in his green eyes.
“You plan on standing there forever, ol’ man?”
Tony got brought back to the here and now by Peter’s voice, a little bit sarcastic but shaded with a hint of something else, too. It was, Tony would realize later that day, a timid attempt of a conversation from Peter, his own way to reach out after acting like he had been the past two weeks.
“Not really, no,” Tony replied as he walked towards them. “And I definitely can’t let Steve go around without supervision. Did I mention how horrible he is?”
*
“So… this is shawarma?” Peter asked as he lifted the food and stared at it with a sceptical look in his eyes. “Looks like some weird kebab, if you ask me.”
“I didn’t ask,” Tony replied without even properly swallow his mouthful. “Now, eat.”
Steve scolded him a look and turned to Peter with a smile.
“What Tony means,” he said scowling at the genius billionaire, “is that this is really good. You should try it, and if you don’t like it we’ll get you something else. How about this?”
Peter looked hesitant for a moment; his eyes gazed from Steve to the food, back and forth for a little while, until he nodded and closed his eyes as he bit the shawarma. At first, he made a face as if he wasn’t even sure of what exactly was stuffed in that Turkish bread; he then carefully opened his eyes and chewed the food less hesitantly. Both Tony and Steve kept their eyes on him, silent and expectant, and when Peter finally swallowed he gave them a small grin.
“This isn’t too bad.”
“See? Told you.”
“And we can still get you some fries or a hamburger, if you’re still hungry,” Steve said.
The day hadn’t been too bad, Tony realized as he looked at Peter and Steve still engaging in small talks. True, he hadn’t improved the conversation much, mostly keeping silent and just staring at those two, but he felt like something had changed in Peter. He was less angry and more keen to spend time with others rather than just keep to his room as he had the past weeks; and yes, a lot of it had to do with Steve’s smiles and talks, Tony knew that, but he suspected that it had a lot to do with Peter needing time to get used to the situation, too.
Peter didn’t seem to still see him as a threat, as someone who had done horrible things to him, and Tony felt grateful for that; he didn’t want the kid to hate him for reasons that were only partially true, not when the situation had been nothing but an imposition on both of them. Tony hadn’t wanted Peter to go live in the tower, Peter hadn’t wanted to be locked up like that. It had all been Fury’s fault, they were both victims there, and maybe Peter was starting to get it.
Maybe Peter was also starting to understand how important it was for him not to be left alone in times like those, how vital it was to have someone who would take care of him and his needs. Someone who would be there in case he needed or wanted to talk, when the anger faded and more devastating emotions kicked in.
“Tony?”
“Yeah.”
Tony shook his thoughts away when he heard Steve’s voice and focused back on what was happening. They were having dinner together, they were spending time together, and Tony had missed spending time with someone else since he and the Avengers had gone separate ways; his complicated relationship with Pepper, or mostly the lack of it, had left him sore and a little hurt, and she had always been the only one he’d truly enjoyed spending time with. Now Pepper kept her distance, and his bunch of superheroes wasn’t to be put together any time soon so yeah, Tony had missed spending time with someone that wasn’t JARVIS.
He had been avoiding important dinners and work meetings, not in the mood for such stupid social events. What he needed was to be with someone who could understand him, who didn’t worship or hate him as everybody else seemed to do. Steve coming to New York earlier that day had been something Tony had been looking forward to for a long time.
“Wanna see if they still have that chocolate cake you’re, and I quote, madly in love with?”
“They still have it, grandpa,” Tony chuckled. “And they still serve that millefoglie pastry you can’t get enough of. I’ll go get it. Peter?”
“I’ll go with the chocolate cake, if that’s okay.”
“Excellent choice. Be right back.”
“He’s not that bad, is he?”
Peter turned to Steve, still sucking from his coloured straw, and shrugged.
“I guess he’s not.”
“I know he could be a little…” Steve fell silent for a moment, looking for the right word, then smiled. “Peculiar. Tony is not the most normal person in the world, but I can tell you, he’s one of the greatest guys you’ll ever meet.”
Peter looked at him thoughtfully, as if he was trying to decide whether to believe his words or not.
“I’ve been a bit of an asshole, and he’s never complained,” Peter said slowly. “I guess you might be right.”
“Trust me, I am.”
“Steve, I had the chef put an extra portion of vanilla ice cream on your dessert,” Tony said as he got back to his seat, missing the look Steve and Peter exchanged. “I added some extra ice cream to yours too, Peter. Hope you don’t mind.”
Peter shook his head no and stretched his lips in the shadow of a smile that made Tony smile back.
*
“I had Rosita set a room for you, Capsicle,” Tony said as they sat in the lounge, their bodies full of an enormous quantity of food. They’d eaten so much Steve felt like he was gonna explode, and his jeans sure seemed to confirm his theory.
“I don’t want to –“
“No bother,” Tony cut him off as the sofa puffed under his weight. “Besides, it’s a little late to drive back to DC, don’t you think? I don’t wanna you falling asleep on that death-trap of yours.”
“Now who’s the grandpa,” Steve laughed. He tilted his head on a side as to be able to look at Tony, and smiled. “Thanks.”
“I just don’t wanna have you on my conscience, Capsicle,” Tony smirked. “So, that went well.”
“The dinner, you mean?”
“The whole day.”
Tony sighed and closed his eyes, rubbing them with his hands. The sofa was so comfortable he felt like he could fall asleep right there, sitting with Steve by his side; the noises from outside came muffled through the thick glass windows, softly laying in the back of Tony’s mind. It was soothing, relaxing, feeling life running down the streets, looking at it from afar.
“You were right about him, Tony.”
“Of course I was. I’m always right.”
“Now, don’t push it,” Steve laughed. “I don’t know why Fury doesn’t want him staying with the others, it might be actually good for him to –“
“To socialize with kids his age? Feels like I’ve heard that, somewhere.”
Steve gave him a sidelong glance and lightly punched his arm.
“So what do we do now?” he asked quietly, as if scared by his own words.
Tony returned the uncertain look in his eyes with a mirroring one and sighed, loudly this time. There wasn’t much to do but to wait for Fury’s order, as per fucking usual, and it was driving him crazy to think of the way the Director was ‘dealing’ with Peter and everything that concerned him.
“I don’t know, Steven,” Tony said in a low voice. “We’ll think of something, I guess? I’m not trusting Fury too much on this. I’m not even sure he knows what to do with Peter, either.”
“I’ll talk to him,” Steve offered with a bright sparkle in his amazingly blue eyes. “I’ll try my best to let him take care of the situation in the best way possible.”
“What a righteous man you are, Rogers,” Tony mocked him and held the impulse of ruffling his blond hair. “I need a drink. And after all that shawarma, I believe you need one too. Why don’t you pour us some whiskey from the bar? I’ll be right back.”
“Yeah, I definitely need a drink. At least I can still enjoy the taste.”
Tony got on his feet with some difficulties, the warmth of the sofa calling out for him; he ignored it. He turned to Steve, who was still half spread on the couch and looked like he had no real intention of moving any time soon, and gave him a little laugh. Tony offered him his outstretched hand and Steve took it lazily.
“Come on, Capsicle, let’s get you up.”
Tony vaguely registered the way Steve’s cheeks turned a little red, and then realized the poorly played wordplay. For some reason, he couldn’t laugh at Steve’s expression – shy, and shamed, and stupidly adorable. Steve was such a goody, in every sense possible.
“I’ll go check on Pete,” Tony said, hoping that ignoring Steve’s blushing would help make him feel at ease and forget all about it. “Don’t drink without me.”
“Yeah, okay.”
Tony tiredly plodded out of the silent lounge and right through the corridors that separated him from Peter’s room. He didn’t know whether the kid was asleep or not, but he still needed to check everything was alright. Something had changed, Tony could feel it; it wasn’t something tangible, more like an imperceptible shade in Peter’s eyes, in the way his lips curled up in a grin or smirk.
Tony was pretty sure that thing, that little change was going to be there in the morning, but a deep and dark part of him was somehow scared to see Peter go back to his silences and bursts of rage. He didn’t even know why he was so scared, maybe because he knew that once you go back to the abyss a second time it’s not as easy to climb out; maybe Tony didn’t want Peter to fall back into the darkness when he was so slowly getting out of it.
“Peter? Can I come in?”
Tony knocked on the door, and Peter’s voice reached him in a sleepy tone. Tony pushed the door open and a dim light embraced him as soon as he stepped inside; Peter was sitting on his bed, a book on his lap and glasses falling down his nose. Tony smiled at the way Peter pushed the glasses back only to feel it slide down again.
“Didn’t know you wore glasses,” he said. “It suits you.”
“Makes me look like an idiot,” Peter mumbled, almost offended.
“Makes you look smart, if you ask me.” Tony stepped forward until he made it to the bed, and Peter looked up from his book with a grin. “What are you reading?”
“Physics. Found it with other books in the library.”
Tony nodded with a big smile. “So you like physics?”
“Yeah.”
“I like it too. Science is fun, no matter what some people think. And scientists, scientists are fun too, look at me.”
Peter laughed and shook his head.
“You don’t look exactly like a scientist.”
“But I am. Sort of. Maybe the mad kind,” Tony replied. “I’ll show you my lab, one day. You’re gonna love it.”
“We’ll see.”
Tony chuckled as he thought of what expression would appear on Peter’s face once he’d stepped in his lab for the very first time. The lab was amazing, incredible, filled with every piece of technology Peter could ever dream of, and that was gonna leave him speechless to say the least.
“So,” Tony said after a pause. “I just wanted to know if you needed anything before I go to bed?”
Peter looked surprised, and maybe a little sad. His eyes darkened for a moment, and Tony saw them humid with repressed tears. Maybe his aunt used to ask him the same, Tony wondered; or maybe his uncle, and this was just bringing a whole lot of memories back altogether with a sharp pain.
Tony wanted to tell him he was sorry, sorry about what had happened to him and sorry because he didn’t mean to grieve him like that. He wanted to tell him that maybe letting the pain out was the best thing to do to get rid of it eventually, but knew it wasn’t up to him to say so. Tony knew too well how people dealt with grief and pain, at their own time and terms, and there was nothing he could tell Peter that would actually help. So, Tony thought of something to say to change the subject and take Peter’s mind off whatever it was that was afflicting him right now.
“Er, so. Steve is gonna stay here for a couple of days, I hope you’re okay with it,” he said in an odd voice. “He asked me to tell you he’s going to the park tomorrow. Maybe you wanna join him?”
Peter shrugged, his eyes still wet but lighter, greener.
“Alright.”
“Good. I’ll – I’ll just go now. I don’t want him to finish all my whiskey without me.”
Peter chuckled and Tony smiled back at him.
“Are you sure you’re not a couple?”
“Good night, kid.”
*
“Steve, you’re taking Peter to the park tomorrow.”
“Er, okay?”
Tony smiled, took the drink Cap had poured them and joined him on the sofa where they sat in silence for a good half an hour before making it to their rooms and letting darkness fall around them.