The Spectacular Peter Stark

Tony downed the shot in one gulp, blinking and scrunching up his face.Why did everything good have to taste so bad. He chased the shot with water and hopped off his work bench.
“Master Rogers is requesting permission to land, sir.”
Tony, who was in the middle of his second shot, choked. “Nngh, right. Let grandpa park his walker.” He took a glance at his reflection, and focused on his chest. The arc reactor, Mark II, cast its bright blue glow without remorse, as if it were proud that it was slowly poisoning him. He buttoned his shirt up, and headed down one level.

As Tony poured himself a *real* drink a the counter, he heard the elevator door’s open again. “So what was our pal Osborn hiding?’ Tony asked, not turning around.

“Your guess is as good as mine.” Steve replied, coming out of the elevator.
Steve’s latest mission had him going upstate New York, to one of Norman Osborn’s many vacation spots. According to his financial records, Osborn had recently spent a lot of cas redecorating a mansion just outside Albany. His expenses had all the comforts of home, including anesthesia, scrubs,small smocks. and enough medical supplies to run a small clinic. Naturally Shield sent Steve up to investigate, as he had been cooped up on the base and frankly, needed to get out.

Tony turned at Steve’s response, ready with a good retort but stopped when he realized the captain was not alone. “What is that?” He pointed with three fingers still wrapped around the glass.

Steve stood with hands on the shoulders of a small child. The boy had short chestnut hair, large glasses, and was dressed in ill-fitting clothing. He pushed the oversized glasses back onto his nose, blinking.
“This is Peter.” Steve said, as introductions seemed like the next logical step. “Peter, this is Tony Stark.”

The child blinked.

Tony blinked back. After receiving no response, he turned his attention back to Steve. “Explain.”

Steve looked down at the child. “Peter?”
“Yes?” The child looked up at him, holding his glasses in place.
“Can you go sit over there for a minute?” He gave the child a warm smile.
A small smile appeared on the child's face. “Okay.” He crossed the room, heading over to a set of couches.
Tony stood with his arms crossed and one eyebrow raised, signaling that Steve better have a good explanation for this.

Steve stood his ground, not faltering under Tony's gaze. “Went up there as planned and searched that estate from top to bottom.” He paused. “The only thing out of place was Peter. He was just sitting there, with a pair of goons, contracted guards I think. There was an operation room setup, but it was brand new, like no one got to use it yet. Nothing else was there.”

“And?” Tony shrugged, hiding a sudden jolt of pain. “Who’s kid is this?”

“Well….” Steve looked at Peter from the corner of his eye. “That's the thing. He doesn't know who he is.”

Tony squinted at him. “So you're telling me, Norman Osborn spent a cool million--chump change really--so he could act out ER with a random kid?” He was suddenly hit with a wave of nausea. “I think we need to call Chris Hansen and set up a Dateline special. Maybe Maury. Get the Daily Bugle on the phone.”

Steve frowned. “Oscorp has some shady stuff going on, but I don’t think this is that...”

“So what is he? A test subject? A mutant?” Tony refilled his glass. “There's a bald guy upstate with a ton of those. You should've just left him there, ‘cause babysitting just isn't my bag.”

“Excuse me.”

Tony looked down.

The boy had returned, pressing back his oversized glasses. “Mr. Stark...May I use your bathroom?”

“Sure. Down the hall on your left.”

As the child quickly scurried away, Tony mouthed the words ‘May I’ with a look of confusion.

“Problem, Stark?”

“Uh, yeah.” He gulped his shot. “When was the last time you met a kid with manners?”

“Maybe his parents are old-fashioned.” Steve replied.

“Maybe Norman found him in an iceberg.”

__

“Well the results are in folks.” Tony walked back into the kitchen where Steve and Peter were casually waiting with a box of pizza.

“Mr. Peter, you’re a completely normal, if not undersized nine or ten year old boy.”

“Oh. Good.” Peter pushed his glasses back for the upteenth time, and Tony resisted the urge to take the child down to the nearest Lenscrafters. “But where do I come from?”

“Nowhere, apparently.” Tony put his tablet on the counter and picked a slice of pizza. “Apparently you don’t exist.”
Peter paled at that and Steve shot the billionaire a warning look.

“He doesn’t mean it like that, Pete.” Steve said, and the child looked up at him for reassurance.

Despite Steve's smile, Peter wasn’t satisfied. “....”

“No birth records with your fingerprints, and no Peters that have recently gone missing.” Tony scratched his head. “ Might be best if you try to remember something.”

Peter looked at the table. “All I remember is being there in that big house.”

Steve remembered the look of surprise Peter had when he had barged in and took out the guards. At the time the boy didn’t understand why Steve had been concerned.

“Time for another dose, sir.” Jarvis announced and Tony took another slice from the box. “You can see yourselves out.”
Peter stopped chewing his pizza. “Goodbye, Mr. Stark.”
Tony stopped for a split second before pressing a button to summon the elevator.

Steve got up from the couch. “Hang on a second Stark.”

Tony stayed put, wearing a look of indifference. “Cap?”

“Look…” He glanced from Tony to the window and back. “Are you sure there's nothing else you can do?”

“I hate to break it to you, but this kid is just one of many. I'm sure SHIELD can figure out whatever Osborn was keeping him for.”

“If you couldn’t figure it out, I've got my doubts.” Steve looked uncomfortable. “I hate to admit it, but I don’t want to hand him over to SHIELD just yet.”

Tony sighed, rubbing his temples. “Oh...kay…” He rubbed his hands together, ignoring the throbbing in his chest. “I'm gonna...make...some calls. Keep junior out of my stuffffffff…”

“Tony!”

The billionaire steadied himself against the wall. He held one hand out, to keep Steve away. “I’m fine! I'm fine. Just, gotta get this core out…” He stumbled back into the elevator and Steve followed, unsure what to do.
As the elevator quickly ascended Tony sucked in air through his teeth and cursed his luck. Of course the eternal boy scout himself had to show up at the wrong time, looming over him with that look of pity.

When the elevator door opened Tony went straight to his work bench, yanking his shirt back open and pressing two fingers against the opening port on the reactor. A sizzling burnt piece of metal ejected itself from his chest as Tony opened a case of identical ones, sticking a new palladium core in its place.

“How long has this been going on?”

Tony sat down at the bench. “.....”

Steve crossed his arms. He wasn't going to take silence for an answer.

Tony stroked his mustache in an effort to keep his cool facade. “I'm not in the mood for a round of 20 questions, so I'll be brief. This thing…” He tapped the reactor. “Is simultaneously keeping me alive and poisoning me at the same time.” He gestured to the smoking metal. “Now if you excuse me, my mortality and I would like to be alone.”

“.....”

Tony went to work, and the room was full of holographic displays.

Steve retreated to the elevator. As it arrived he spoke again. “You don’t have to be this way, Stark.”

“What?” Tony squinted at him.

“Alone.” Steve responded as the elevator door closed.

---___-________-___--___--

“Mr. Stark! Mr. Stark!” Tony awoke to tiny hands shaking his arm. He rolled onto his stomach, his eyes bleary. He willed his mind to focus: Bed. Child. Morning.
But when did he go to bed, exactly? His last memory of the night was definitely at the workbench, synthesizing another set of cores and talking to that old man…
“How’d you get in here?” He asked, rubbing his face. ‘How did I get in here?’
“I asked Mr. Jarvis if I could come in.” Peter explained.
“And you’re here because…?” Whatever time it was, it was too early for conversation.
“Captain America made pancakes!” Peter exclaimed as if it were some important event.
Tony was used to the other avengers popping in and out of the tower at will. He wouldn’t be surprised if Sam Wilson were snoozing on the couch, or Carol Danvers and Natasha Romanov were sparring in the gym. Actually, he’d like to see that.

At Peter’s insistence, Tony slowly rolled out of bed and walked at his own pace when the child dashed away.

When they arrived in the kitchen, Steve was working on making a fully balanced breakfast, and Natasha was sitting at the counter table. She glanced at Tony. “Morning Stark.”
Peter looked between them.
“Nat, this is Peter.” Steve introduced them while flipping one more pancake.
Natasha turned in her chair and stood, moving with the grace of a feline. She offered Peter her hand. “Cap told me all about you.”
Peter held out his hand, and flinched when she took it. She was gentle, but her aura suggested formidable strength.
“N-Nice to meet you.”
She smiled, but that smile quickly faded. “When Cap didn’t return I figured something was up.”
“Breakfast is done.” Steve said, and they each pulled up a stool.
Tony looked Peter over. “Weren’t you wearing that yesterday?”
“Yes.” Peter replied, before looking down at his pancakes. “I don’t have any other clothes.”
Tony rolled his eyes. “Someone please take Little Orphan Petey shopping.”
“Am I a orphan?” Peter asked, tilting his head.
Natasha and Steve shared worried glances before both shootin Tony a scathing look.
Tony feigned innocence. “We don’t know.”
Peter poked a sunny side up egg with his fork and watched the runny yolk seep into his toast. “If I have parents, why isn’t there a missing child report or me?”
“...We don’t know that there wasn't one...Maybe Osborn had you removed from the list, so no one could find you.” Cap offered, trying to be helpful. “Don't worry Peter, I'm sure we'll find something.”
_____
After breakfast, Tony disappeared into his lab, only to have his sacred silence ended by Peter a few hours later.

“What’s up? Cap making lunch or something?”
“They went to SHIELD headquarters.” Peter said. “How far is that?”

“Like twenty blocks or something*. Google it.”

“With what?”

Tony grumbled for a moment before retrieving a laptop from the other side of the room. “Here. It’s got everything, passwords all locked in, go on a shopping spree, buy a small country. Just let me work.”
Peter wobbled slightly but got a firm grip with both hands. He looked around the lab. “What are you working on?”

“Not dying.” Tony replied, not turning around. “Well, not so soon, anyway.”

“Is it the thing in your chest?” Peter asked.

“ Uh huh…”

“Does it hurt? Cap said to call if it did.”

“Doesn’t hurt. But I still have to upgrade it somehow.”

“You'll figure it out.”

“What makes you so sure?”

“Well, you’re Iron Man, and Tony Stark. You’ve already done a few things people thought no one could ever do, and soon you'll do more.” Peter chewed on another carrot. “Plus, you're a scientist. Science is a process…” He paused. “I think I heard that somewhere before. Sometimes you need the right inspiration to get it going. Like fresh air...or a walk in the park maybe?”

“Real smooth, but no thanks. Now skidaddle so I can work.”

“Pfft.” Peter stifled a laugh. “Skidaddle…”
“Scram.”

Peter didn’t stray too far, sitting with the laptop in a corner. In an effort to make the world less strange and new, he began to google the many questions that currently crossed his mind.
While his endeavors were originally for education, his search eventually lead to cat videos.

Jarvis’ voice filled the air. “Master Logan requesting permission to land, sir.”

Tony stood. “Company is finally here…” ‘So I made that phone call after all…’In recent days he had a few blind spots in his memory. “Come on, let’s go get your memories back.”

Peter closed the laptop. “How?”

Tony sighed. “Do me a favor. Don’t ask me any more questions today.”

________________________________________________________________________________

They took the elevator back up to a new location for Peter: The Party deck. It acting as a landing pad not only for Tony, but any other avengers or unexpected guests that had to swoop in from time to time...which was both a good and bad thing, considering New York City had a wide assortment of enemies and allies.
The X-Men’s blackbird had landed, and two occupants were coming out; a gruff looking man that somehow made sideburns look cool, and a calm looking man in a wheelchair.
“Glad you could make it, Professor.” Tony clasped his hands together.
Logan crossed his arms, looking unimpressed. His gaze fell on Peter, making the child shrink back behind Tony.
The Professor’s wheelchair glided up to them, but Charles’ hands remained in his lap. Peter blinked in confusion, how did that work?
“You must be Peter.” Charles extended his hand and Peter. It wasn't as firm as Cap’s or gentle like Natasha's, but he felt as if he could trust this man.
They sat down in a conference room that belonged not to Avengers tower, but Stark Industries.
Before Peter was sure what was happening, he found himself sitting in front of the Professor. Logan stood in the doorway, restless. Tony sat at the head of the table, watching from the other side of the room. As his own search had turned up nothing, he was interested in seeing what Professor Xavier could find.
Peter squeezed the soft leather bound arm of his chair. “Is this going to hurt?”
“No”, Professor Xavier smiled. “Think of this as a simple exercise. First, I want you to close your eyes.”
“Oh...kay.”
“Now, let’s try going back.” Xavier pressed two finger to his temple. “What is the earliest thing you remember, Peter?”
Peter furrowed his brow. “Um, I was...sitting on the couch. There were some other guys there. Then that’s when Captain America came, and…”
“Are you sure?”
“Y-Yes…”
“Let’s try this...How did you get to that room?”
Peter squinted but before he could open his eyes Xavier called to him. “Stay with me, Peter.”
For a moment neither of them spoke.
Tony looked back and forth between the two. He’d seen the Professor in action before. Honestly, he found the Professor’s abilities a little frightening. As a being who could manipulate the senses, possess or control the minds and bodies of others, and create completely real-feeling illusions he could easily take control of the tower, SHIELD, and perhaps the world.
The fact that he would lend his abilities for the simple act of helping a amnesiac child seemed both amazing and somehow wasteful, but only himself had called on the Professor, and could barely remember why.
“It’s...dark.” Peter’s lip trembled.
“Go on.Who’s that in the next room?”
“That’s...my aunt.” Peter sounded surprised. “Her name is May, and that’s Uncle Ben.”
Tony let out a sigh he hadn't realized he'd been holding in. The kid had a family. Now they were getting somewhere.
“And where is this?”
“Hall closet. I was….” Peter stopped.
“Sounds like someone’s at the door.” Professor Xavier said.
“Wait...Don't…” Peter squeezed the arm rest. “Don’t go. Don't go the door!”
“Peter--”
“No-stop-don’t-open-wait-wait-STOP! STOP!STOP PLEASE NO.STOOOOP IIIIT--” Peter had gone from whining to pleading, to screaming in terror. His eyes rolled to the back of his head as his begged for Whatever he was seeing to disappear. “MAKE IT STOP! MAKE IT STOP!”
Tony crossed the room quickly. “ Alright show’s over!” He shook Peter’s shoulder. “Snap out of it!”
“Wait!” The Professor commanded.
Peter began to speak gibberish until his eyes finally rolled forward. Tears streamed down his face, and snot leaked from his nose. In his eyes there was nothing but terror. He grabbed hold of Tony and let out a series of strained sobs, burying his face in the man’s shirt.
Tony kept one hand on the child's shoulder as he continued to cry.

Once Peter’s sobs had subsided, Tony took the child upstairs to rest he went back to interrogate the professor.

“What the hell was that about!?” Tony asked, storming back into the room.
“Things are more dire than I originally surmised.” Professor Xavier replied. “Peter’s amnesia was a defense mechanism. You see, he was a witness to his aunt and uncle’s murder.”

Tony was silent, and the Professor continued.
“He was placed in their care after his parents disappeared. But based on what I uncovered, that ‘disappearance’ was some time ago. I don’t know what Osborne wants, but I fear what other measures he may take to get it.”
___________________________________________________________________________________
When Steve and Natasha returned, Tony filled them in on what the Charles had uncovered, and his own subsequent discoveries.
“Peter Parker.” Tony said, as he paced the floor.
Steve and Natasha sat at the counter, watching.
“Finally how a last name changes things.” Tony said. With a snap of his fingers, all his collected data hovered in mid air. “Peter Benjamin Parker, age nine, son of Richard and Mary---whom, disappeared overseas...also nephew to Benjamin and May Parker, who were reportedly killed in an altercation during a robbery. A ton of shit, but it's a start.”
“I’ll see what I can find about Richard and Mary…” Natasha spoke up.
“Almost sounds like you know something already.” Natasha didn’t reply, leaving Steve and Tony to quietly speculate for a moment.
Tony leaned against the counter, looking more lucid and put together than he had been in days. Peter had been right; he needed fresh air, new inspiration. Now he had it.
_____________________________________________