Only Downsides

Everything after that was a blur. He was cuffed ( overkill much ) and shoved into the back of a car, his claims that there was a mistake completely ignored. He was starting to be bitter and angry. He snarked at the officers about twelve times. He glared at the camera when they took his mugshot. He moved his fingers when they did his prints, so that they had to do it again (he was proud of that one). 

He wondered what Ben and May would think if they could see him now.

He sat in silence in an interrogation room, waiting for someone to come in, got annoyed after ten minutes, sang twinkle twinkle, glared at the two-way mirror, kicked his chair over, and immediately regretted it because his hands were cuffed to the table so he couldn’t pick it back up.

“Damn I’m a mess” he spoke to the empty room;

Silence answered.

=====

Two minutes later, an Officer Finn walked in, confused to see Peter sitting on the table and the chair on the floor. He picked it up in silence as Peter glowered.

“So, Peter Parker, aged fifteen, caught with…” he whistled. “A frankly astounding amount of drugs.” Silence for a second. “Got anything you want to say about that Peter?”

“You can read,” he replied sarcastically as he sat on the newly upright chair. “Well done.” 

Officer Finn’s smile didn’t waver. “Okay, Peter, that’s alright. If you don’t want to talk we can just sit here. I noticed that you are not a fan of silence, at least that’s what the last ten minutes indicated. But I’ve got time, so we can just sit here. That’s cool.” 

And then he said nothing, simply flipping through his file. Peter frowned. He broke in ten seconds.

“The bag wasn’t mine. And- and I want a lawyer,” he said, quoting what everybody said in movies. Officer Finn laughed.

“Sure you do buddy. Do you have one?” He asked. Peter, who knew nothing about law, really, shrugged in a way he hoped was unbothered but probably came off as dorky. Dammit, I've really got to work on my image. 

“Okay, let’s start off with you telling me how you got the stuff. Are you using? Dealing? The latter I imagine, since it was all in separate bags. But hey, who knows with the youth these days.”

“No!” Peter replied, voice rising a little. “I wasn’t anything! They’re not even mine, I swear, there was a mix up, that bag is not mine!”

“Security footage shows you with that same backpack everyday in school, buddy,” Finn said faux-sympathetically. Peter decided he didn’t like him all that much.

“Yeah, I- listen. That bag wasn’t mine. It was a switch up! I would never do drugs, or anything like that.” He replied. Finn’s eyes flicked down to his file, saw his history, as told by Chad Mason, and raised a brow.

“Look, buddy-” But Peter never found out what he was supposed to be looking at, because the door flew open, and a frazzled-looking woman stood in the doorway.

“Uh, could you just- come here for a second? Leave the kid alone,” she squeaked, eyes never leaving Peter’s face. 

“Stay put buddy,” Officer Finn ordered, and Peter flipped him the bird.

“I’m not your buddy,” he replied, sickly sweet. Finn’s lip curled and he stalked out the room.

Peter dropped his head onto the table. This was gonna be a long night.

=====

Tony Stark couldn’t breathe.

Oh shit, he was having a panic attack, he realised even as he stared at the screen, and the pictures it showed. Shit not again. This is not the time, dammit . 

“Friday, initiate - ”

“On it already, boss,” came the smooth voice that was so calming. His AI walked him through the steps and calmed him down for the next ten minutes as Tony worked on getting his breathing back to normal, allowing his mind to drift while remaining grounded.

“Thanks Fri,” he said when he trusted his voice. However he did not judge that correctly because a slight waver could be heard. Dammit . At least only Friday was here.

“You alright, Tony?” came the voice of his lifelong best friend. Okay, so not only Friday was here.

“Shit, Rhodey,” he said, turning around smoothly. “We really need to stop meeting like this.” He was, of course, referring to the number of times that Rhodey had shown up when Tony wanted to be alone, but probably shouldn't be. It was like he had a damned alarm. 

“You good?” Rhodey checked again, wincing as he shifted. 

“Your leg braces working alright?” Tony deflected. “Cos I can build you a different pair in, what, a day tops. What do you say? It’ll be fun. We could add some lasers. Too irresponsible? Laser knees? No?”

Rhodey simply raised an eyebrow. Tony sighed.

“Yeah, all right, you caught me.” he gestured over to the screen he had been looking at. Rhodey walked over, took one look, and turned his gaze back on Tony.

“It’s alright to miss him. I know you know that. It has been twelve years of me walking in on you like this. Why do you keep pretending I'm not aware of it, Tones?”

“Look, Sourpatch, this” he gestured at Rhodey in a general manner. “Not helpful. Okay? I didn’t mean to click on the article, I was distracted, okay? And then I just- I just wanted to see the pictures, I- I don’t know.”

Rhodey’s gaze, impossibly, softened. “I get it. You don’t wanna talk, that’s okay. Wanna work on the leg braces?” Tony forced a smile. 

“Sure”.

They worked in companionable silence, Rhodey sending a couple of worried glances over to Tony who, to the untrained eye, seemed immersed in his tech, but to his best friend, looked so far away.

The truth was, Tony was not really okay, and hadn’t been since October 25th 2005. His son, his 4 year old, perfect, adorable Liam James Stark, was taken right off the street. No one really knows how, no one knows why. It tore the man apart, as he foolishly hoped for a ransom note, asked on national television for any information, created technology that facilitated recognition of missing people, and, eventually, started looking for a body. But after Afghanistan, he came back and just threw everything he had into Iron Man. He tried his best to push his presumed dead son from his mind, but still appeared on television every year on his birthday, August 10th, asking for any information. Apart from that, he acted as if he never had a son. He locked his room, threw himself into making the suit, and into dangerous situations. 

Obviously, everyone who cared about him worried for him, but he would hear no reason.

And mysteriously, when he came back after December 2012, he was different again. He set up the Liam Stark foundation, a charity that helped provide resources to find missing kids. He spoke in a calm and collected way about it publicly for the first time. He slowed down in his self-destructive tendencies. 

No one really knew the cause for the change, except for Tony himself. But it was Harley Keener, that kid who was smart and was the same age as his son would have been. Tony took one look, and something shattered in his heart- shattered into place. For the first time, he felt like he could properly grieve.

He stayed in touch with Harley, and still was. The kid visited sometimes, mostly at Christmas which Harley had dubbed “their time of the year”.  He gave him anything he asked for, provided everything he would want his son to have. He was the reason that Tony could function, after all. Was he a replacement for Liam? Tony didn’t think so. He was like a son to him, but different than Liam ever might have been. 

But often, when Tony was stressed, and he was reminded of his child, he had panic attacks. And right now, he was stressed. The “civil war”, as the media had dubbed it, was over, and the Avengers were back in Stark Tower, under a sort of house arrest as the accords were being revised in a more equal and fair way. 

But living under the same roof as Barnes, who had killed his parents, as Steve, who had once considered a best friend, but who had left him for dead, as Natasha, who had switched sides, betraying him… it was taking a toll on him.

And then, he read the article on Liam’s disappearance, written in bold capital letters that the boy had likely been murdered by someone, well… the panic attack had been a long time coming. 

“Tony?” He heard Rhodey calling. He shook his head, coming out of his reverie. 

“Yeah? Sorry, got carried away here,” he smirked confidently.

“Really.” was the reply. “Because you have been staring into the distance for the last three minutes, ignoring me. 

The smirk dropped. 

“Okay, Rhodey, you know what I want? I want a cup of coffee. Should we get some coffee? Let’s go,” he said, walking out of the lab. He heard his friend following behind him.

They fell into an easy banter in the elevator, laughing freely for the first time in a while. Of course that ended when they stepped out and Tony caught sight of Steve and Barnes quietly talking at the kitchen counter. He felt the now familiar tightening in his chest.

Rhodey put a hand on his shoulder, grounding him for a few seconds. Tony didn't falter as he strode into the kitchen like he owned the place.

Because, well, he did.

“Oh, hey Tony,” Steve said apologetically. Everything that he did these days was apologetic, and Tony hated it. It was another reminder of the trust broken.

“Hey Capsicle,” he replied, nonplussed. “And… hang on, I’ve almost got it.” he stared at Barnes, thinking of a nickname. He came up blank; looking at him hurt. He flicked his eyes back to the noble Captain America. “Got it!” he smirked. “Let’s do that again. Hey, Barnes and Noble,” he snickered, hearing Rhodey do the same. Still got it , he thought, making himself a cup, basking in the applause that sometimes played in his head when he did something cool. Narcissist? Who, me? Don't even know the word. The super soldier twins seemed like they didn’t quite understand, but they weren’t going to ask. 

“Please, like you’ve been to a bookstore in your life,” Rhodey muttered, earning a faux-wounded look.

“Hey! I read,” He said defensively.

“Yeah, your own biography maybe.” 

“That’s enough out of you, Honey Bear. You just wish you had twenty seven biographies and counting.”

“You’re right, that was my lifelong dream,” Rhodey snarked, rolling his eyes. Tony dropped the subject, deciding he had won.

“So, what can I do you for?” the billionaire asked, leaning on the counter. Again, a subtle frown from Barnes.

“We were just talking,” Steve replied. Rhodey sat down at the counter, unbothered. Tony wished he could be so aloof. “You’ve got a great view.”

“You have been here before, you know,” Tony drawled, glancing over at the setting sun. Steve winced at the reminder.

“Yeah, I know,” he said quietly, and nothing more. Tony shrugged, sent off a quick “sup” to Harley (apparently this is what all the cool kids do - he can’t tell if Harley was kidding), and poured his cup of coffee.

And paused.

Should he sit here? Go back down to the lab? He glanced over at Rhodey, who had not looked up from his glass. Tony resolved to stay on the opposite side of the counter from the two super soldiers. And if he was on the side with the knives, well, he wasn’t gonna change that. 

Just in case. 

Anxiety? Who, me? Look at that, two words that I don't know in the same minute!

“Boss, I have an urgent matter-” 

“Not now, Fri.” Tony lazily cut off his AI. “Can’t you see I’m relaxing for once?” Rhodey snorted, covering it with a cough when Tony glared.

“Boss, I think you might-”

“No, Friday. You just said it, I’m your boss, so that means I call the shots.”

“You programmed me to never let you override the Liam Protocol,” Friday replied. And there was dead. Silence.

“What?” Tony whispered.

“You programmed me to never let you-” 

“No, no, I- I heard you. I just meant… tell me.” Tony said weakly. Rhodey stood and came around to his side of the counter, taking his mug out of his shaking hands. Steve and Barnes looked awkward, but didn’t leave.

“There has been a hit on a set of fingerprints, boss.”

Finally, was Tony’s first thought . They found a body. I can bury my son. And then a glimmer of hope shot through him, because do people fingerprint a dead body? 

“A… a body?” he asked quietly. 

“No boss. A fifteen year old boy was taken into police custody this evening at 18:47 for possession of drugs and intent to sell. His prints matched those of Liam James Stark.”

Was there a ringing sound? Tony was hearing one. He leant heavily on the counter for support. His son was alive. His son was alive.

He had to find him.

“Where is he, Fri?” he heard Rhodey ask.

“In Queens.” came the reply.

“Convenient,” he chuckled. “Imagine if he was raised in Spain, and I couldn’t communicate with my own son.” 

No one laughed; the thought was too tragic, Tony realised. And then it hit him. 

“Wait, in Queens ? This whole time he has just been… not even an hour away?”

“Send the address, Friday, please” Steve asked politely. Tony noted that Bucky had left, giving them some privacy. He smiled gratefully at Steve through his crisis.

“And have Happy prepare the car,” he said. “I need to meet my son.”

=====

Ten minutes later, Tony Stark was sitting in traffic somewhere between Manhattan and Queens. His knee bounced as he stared frustratedly out of the car window into the other immobilised cars. The sound of his ringtone made him jump.

“Hello?” 

“Hi, this is NYPD, is this Tony Stark?” the voice asked almost reverently.

“Yes, yes this is him. This is Tony Stark,” he replied, desperate for another confirmation that his son was not dead. That he was going to see him .

“We, uh… I don’t know if you might already know, but we believe we found your son.”

“Believe?” He asked. “Or know?”

“Well,” the woman on the phone stammered. “We believe, so far. His, uh fingerprints came back positive so we are testing now for paternity with some hair.”

“Good, that’s good,” Tony said. “What, uh. What does the kid have to say about it all?”

“Well,” she started again. “Well he goes by Peter Parker, and we haven’t asked him anything yet. We thought we should wait to see what you want. We haven’t had a high profile case like this before. But we’ve bought in his social worker-”

“Social worker? The kid’s in foster care?” Tony exclaimed. His kid, living with no stability, switching from home to home, when he could have had the best life money could buy? Tony didn’t like the thought.

“Well,” honestly Tony thought the woman must have a nervous tick or something, “Well yes. He used to live with his- Aunt and Uncle after his parents died. Uh- I mean, his um. Well. not his parents I suppose. Or his Aunt and Uncle. But, um, anyway, they also passed away, and Peter- uh, Liam, I mean, has been in foster care since 2014.”

“I see. Well we are on the way there. Maybe in fifteen minutes,” Tony replied numbly, and hung up. He turned to Rhodey beside him.

“Find his file. Peter Parker, foster care. I’ve got to call Pepper.”

He picked up his phone as the car began to move again, Happy shooting worried glances from the rearview.

=====

Ten minutes later, and they were so close. Three minutes away, according to the screen. Pepper was on a flight back from Sydney already, hopefully relaxing, probably panicking into a paper bag. Tony watched as Rhodey frowned for the sixth time as he scrolled through the file on his phone.

“Alright, what it is,” Tony said in a calm manner. Or at least he tried.

“It’s, ah. It’s not a good look for the kid. I mean runaway, violent, uncooperative, and it seems like all of these homes have been fine. According to the caseworker, a mister-” Rhodey scrolled for a second - “Chad Mason.”

Tony blew out a breath. “Okay. That’s okay. I mean, being kidnapped when you’re four is a traumatic event, right? So honestly it’s justified. Yeah.”

“Boss, we’re here,” Happy said, and Tony stared at the window. Indeed, they were parked. He threw open the car door and stepped out, Rhodey following close behind.

As soon as he entered the station, everyone looked up in shock, because Tony Stark, Iron Man, was actually here. A security guard hastily began to hand out NDAs. A man, Officer Finn, he noted, stepped forward.

“Mr Stark, sir, it’s nice to meet you. We know why you’re here, please follow me.” His tone was polite, forcefully cheery. Stark looked him over and followed.

“You’re taking me to my son, correct?” he said in that authoritative, disdainful way he had perfected, as they strode through the station - yes strode, because no matter how bad you feel, a Stark always appears confident. Thanks, dad.

“Uh, not quite sir. You can’t speak to him before we figure out what he knows, and until we have proof that he is Liam Stark. However, we will allow you to watch through the two way mirror. I suppose you’re desperate to lay eyes on him.” He was. He hadn't seen a picture in the file online. He didn’t know what his own son looked like, he realised with something like sadness shooting through him. He steeled himself, and stepped through the door.

It turned out, he looked perfect . 

He stepped up to the mirror, taking in every inch of his son. The boy had big brown doe eyes staring out of a defiant face. He had brown curls, lighter than Tony’s, and they looked soft, if unkempt, curling down to brush against his neck. Tony stepped forward, pushing a hand to the glass. This was his son . He was alive .

The teen inside, all alone, looked around, and for a second, although the kid didn’t know it, their eyes met. Tony smiled, feeling a sense of rightness.

“Liam,” he whispered. Rhodey smiled behind him.

“He looks like you,” he offered.

“No,” Tony shook his head. “He looks like his mother.” It was true. He had Pepper's jawline, the curve of her nose. Sure, his eyes matched Tony’s, but their shape was that of his wife. 

“Both of you, then,” Rhodey amended, and Tony didn’t get to reply as the kid - his kid - cut them off.

“Hello! Still sitting here, douchebags! It’s been over twenty minutes and I doubt you went to, like, make me a sandwich. Speaking of, can I have one? I know a place, Mr Delmar’s, really good with extra pickles-” The door slammed open, but Tony didn’t register what the officer was saying, too busy waiting for his brain to catch up. It had jammed when he heard the voice of his son. 

Seeing him was all well and good, but seeing can be an illusion. Hearing him talk? Ask for a damn sandwich? That was proof that this was a live kid, with a personality, with thoughts, feelings. This was real.

And Tony had never felt more complete. He just wished that the kid’s hands weren’t still cuffed to the table.

=====

Peter glared at Officer Finn as he strode back in, but the look melted into one of surprise as he saw Chad following him. The shock only climbed when he saw that instead of the usual blank stare, there was something sheepish, something worried, something perplexed in the social worker’s face.

“Hey, Chad, long time no see. Oh wait, that’s not true. I guess it’s the actual expression on your face that’s throwing me off. My mistake,” he shrugged nonchalantly before turning to officer Finn. “So, did you get me that lawyer?”

“No, we-”

“A sandwich then? Great, I’m pretty hungry, you know, since I’ve been here for like an hour and a half. And mostly alone. Except for when that woman came to steal my hair.”

Officer Finn frowned, Chad only stared. Peter whistled.

“Tough crowd.”

“Right. So… right.” Officer Finn began. “We made some discoveries after scanning your fingerprints. That is to say… well. Mr. Mason, would you like to do the honours?” he chickened out, turning to the aforementioned Chad. Peter felt his veins fill with something akin to ice. Oh shit they know I’m Spiderman, it’s all over, they’re gonna want to dissect me, or- or experiment oh god I’ve gotta get out of here-  

His train of thought was cut off by Chad clearing his throat. “So, Mr. Parker-”

“Ooh, a show of respect. How rare, Chad,” he commented offhandedly. Chad merely frowned, and continued. 

“Peter , when we scanned your fingers as you entered the system, there was a hit.” Peter stared blankly, mind empty. A hit? He had never committed any crimes before. His brain felt like cardboard and cotton. Is this how Chad feels all the time? He wondered distantly.

“A hit?” he repeated, since no one felt the need to clarify. Chad simply nodded, so Peter turned to officer Finn, frustrated.

“Uh, what Mr. Mason means to say, is that you were discovered to have been a missing child. We are waiting on the paternity test conducted with some hair to confirm.”

“No, my parents are just dead,” Peter said slowly, as if they were stupid. “No one kidnapped me from them.”

Awkward silence.

“Well, it seems that maybe they kidnapped you from someone.”

“What? No, they didn’t,” Peter replied, frowning. “Why would they?”

“We don’t know,” Finn replied, turning to Chad as if asking for some help dealing with a confused teen. Yeah, good luck with that, sir , thought Peter. It's not like it's his job or anything. 

“We need to find out what you know.” Chad said in his plain voice.

“Nothing! I don’t, I just. I’m Peter Parker, son of Mary and Richard Parker, that’s it!”

Chad pulled out a photo and slid it in front of Peter. It showed him as a child. He recognized it from the photos that May had put up to brighten their home. But in this photo, he was in front of a magnificent view of a skyline, reaching out towards the camera with a smile on his face. He had never seen this photo before. He faltered.

“The missing child had a birthmark around his lower left ribcage,” Chad droned on. Peter’s hand flew to his ribs instinctually, and he took in a shaky breath. 

“Oh my god,” he murmured.

“Peter, could that child be you?” Officer Finn asked. Peter wished that anyone else were here with him at this moment. He wished his whole life wasn’t crumbling in front of a douchebag officer and his uninterested social worker. But he nodded. 

“Yeah. It- it looks like me. I have the uh, birthmark.” he whispered. I'm someone else's son? he wondered, before his brain shuttered that thought. Nope, no way, because would Mom and Dad have kidnapped you? But his mouth didn't get the memo, as he heard himself ask, "Who?"

"We're not at liberty to say," Chad said. Peter hummed noncommittally, not really registering much. 

And then he didn’t say anything else as the two men got up to leave, uncuffing his hands as they went.

=====

Tony’s heart had stuttered in his chest as the kid moved to touch the birthmark on his ribs. More proof, more proof, more confirmation that this boy, this fifteen year old kid, could be his son. He was having a hard time reconciling the two in his mind. His hands shook as Liam confirmed that the picture could be him. His breathing sped up.

Natasha walked in, and he turned.

“Nat? What are you… what are you doing here?” he asked, shocked into a state of almost normalcy.

“Steve told me what’s going on. He and Bucky are in cars outside. Keeping a low profile, don’t worry. Besides, I figured you should have people working on your side a bit faster. I got the station to send the paternity test to Stark Tower. Dr. Cho ran the test. It’s a match.”

“Of course it is,” Tony said instinctually. He had known, really, since he laid eyes on the kid. The resemblance was there. This last bit of proof? It changed nothing, because Tony knew already. That was Liam James Stark in front of him. “I want to talk to him.”

“Is that the best idea?” Nat raised a brow. “You'll freak him out. He'll run.”

“Natasha might be right, Tony,” Rhodey agreed cautiously. Let’s see what his case worker has to say; he probably knows what’s best for the kid.”

Tony scoffed at that. Sure he does . But he acquiesced anyway. Mr. Mason walked in a minute later, with the policeman. 

“Mr. Stark, sir, it has been confirmed that this child is your son,” someone was saying.

“Good. Can I talk to him?” he asked. Chad shrugged.

“Go for it. There is the matter of custody, and his foster father-”

“No there’s damn well not. I will be getting my kid back, because it’s not like I gave up custody. He was stolen, and that means I get him back. 

“There’s a process for this you know,” Chad said amiably. Or at least Tony assumed that’s what he was going for. It came out blank. 

“Well, that’s for later. Right now, I need to go talk to my son.” He stalked out of the room, and put his hand on the doorknob.

This was it. This was the last moment he would have before everything was complete. This was his last moment before his old life picked back up. 

He took a grounding breath - Friday would be proud.

He opened the door.