the end
Tony slumped into the uncomfortable seat, fidgeting with his fingers. Peter lay still in front of him, tucked into one the medbay’s bay with three monitors hooked up to him. The beeping itself was driving Tony mad, but its implications drove him even crazier. The fact that at any second, one of those monitors could change, and doctors would need to rush in made Tony’s heartbeat rise.
Peter’s hot aunt, May, had visited already, but she needed to work during the day so it was just Tony in the room. He hated to look at the kid. Hated to look at his still figure and his deceptively peaceful face, hated to see the glimpses of partially bloody bandages beneath his itchy-looking gown and the way he seemed to wince when he took too deep of a breath.
But at the same time, Tony also didn’t take his eyes off of Peter. He needed to see his chest rise and fall, needed to see the tiny little adjustments he made in his slumber. Tony had never been a very superstitious man, but part of him felt that if he looked away the kid would get worse.
“Hey Tony.” A calm voice made Tony sit up a little. “Sorry, I’ve just got to change out his IV and check his meds. It shouldn’t take too long.”
Bruce had stepped in, looking a hell of a lot like the kind of doctor he claimed he wasn’t. Him and Helen had been the ones mostly dealing with Peter since he had been admitted nearly two days ago. Tony knew they were both very capable, but he also wished that he had the expertise to do it all himself.
“How is he doing?” The question came automatically out of Tony’s mouth– he’d asked it dozens of times.
“About the same, it seems. Like I said before, his enhancer healing will take care of the wound. All he needs is rest, which is what he’s doing right now. He’ll probably wake up soon, surely by the end of the day.” The words did little to calm the anxious man.
“You’re sure his healing will take care of all of it?” It was a dumb question; Tony knew very well how powerful the kid was, but he couldn’t help but worry.
“Of course, Tony. His healing factor is stronger than Steve’s.”
The name made Tony fume. He clenched his fist and inhaled sharply.
“Of course his healing factor is better than that asshole– everything he can do is better than that dick.” Tony spat. “I don’t know why the fuck I ever let that piece of shit back here–”
“Tony–”
“Don’t ‘Tony’ me, Bruce– all of this is his goddamn fault and he knows it.” Tony seethed.
“I know that, Tony. But I mean–”
“If you say that he’s right I will beat your ass.”
Bruce put his hands up, a sympathetic expression on his face. Tony felt a little bad but he was too damn ticked off to apologize.
“What I was going to say is that although the way he did it was wrong, he isn’t wrong about Peter being a kid. Not too long ago you would’ve had the same reaction to a kid joining you in a fight.” Bruce said calmly, finishing giving Peter his IV. “It doesn’t make him any less of an asshole, but a few years ago you would’ve been the same asshole.”
Tony thought about the words for a moment. They were true– he was like, the asshole, and had brushed people off for worse reasons than their age (ex: Aldrich Killian, the guy he blew off to have some sex).
But Steve watched the kid in action– hell, Peter saved his damn life! He didn’t just underestimate the kid, he blew up about it. Accused Tony of using the kid to do his ‘dirty work’.
“I’m just saying, Tony, maybe try to ease on it a little. You don’t need to forgive him, but maybe don’t kick him out? Try to have an adult conversation about it instead of what you two did last time.”
“He could’ve gotten Peter killed, Bruce.” Tony’s voice wobbled with a vulnerability that Bruce rarely ever heard. “And then he had the audacity to call the kid incompetent right in front of his face after he’d just saved his star-spangled ass.”
They were both silent for a moment. Tony blinked back the tears that were biting at the back of his eyes. Bruce was fiddling with some vials, and injected something into the sleeping boy.
“Peter would be upset if you kicked him out.”
The words hit Tony like a bus. Like a knife being stabbed into his chest, tearing into him.
“Wh-what?” He mumbled meekly.
“You know him. If you kicked Steve out, Peter would lose his mind with guilt. He’d apologize over and over again about messing everything up. If he was awake right now, he would say that it's not a big deal and that he didn’t mean to mess things up.” Bruce’s voice was quiet and calm.
Tony didn’t have an answer. He wanted to say something about how Peter was too nice and he always gave the benefit of the doubt to everybody, that the kid was just too nice for his own good, but the words just wouldn’t come out. Bruce was entirely correct– Peter would be ridiculously guilty if he thought he was the reason Steve got kicked out. He’d stress his little head to death about it.
The two men sat in silence for a while. Tony sunk into his chair, letting out a big sigh. His hands fell limp at his sides and he tilted his head back, still not taking his eyes off of Peter. Bruce finished with the medicine and left, giving Tony one more long stare like he wanted to say something, but the silence remained unbroken.
Tony sat like that for a good while longer. He didn’t feel like getting up, didn’t feel like dealing with the whole mess. All he wanted to do was to watch his kid, so that’s what he did.
“Mr. St’rk…?” A quiet voice broke Tony out of his half-asleep trance.
The man physically jumped, quickly finding Peter’s face with his eyes. And sure enough, the kid had rolled over to face his mentor with dazed eyes.
“Hey bambino, you're awake!” Tony spoke in a soft voice, trying his hardest to channel Pepper. “Y-You feeling okay, buddy?”
“Yep!” Peter grinned wildly, giggling.
Tony couldn’t help but smile.
“Yeah? That’s good. That’s good– you're good. You’re fine, kiddo.” Tony mumbled, trying to keep his composure. “You’re just gonna rest for a bit then you’ll be okay. No biggie.”
“But I’m Spider-man…?” Peter mumbled, adorably sad. “I’m not a baby.”
“I didn’t call you a baby. You just need to rest. Then you can go back to being spider-man, okay?” Tony reassured the kid, flashing a weary smile.
Peter coughed, wincing from the rattling in his lungs. He had three broken ribs, and each one of them seemed to be aching. It was a few moments before he recovered enough to speak again.
“D’you think I’m weak…?” Peter whispered softly.
“What?” Tony remarked with well-deserved shock. “No, bambino, I would never. Don’t let what Captain Asshole said get to you, okay? You’re stronger than he’ll ever be.”
He leaned forward and ruffled the boy’s hair, immediately blushing once he realized he’d just done that. But Peter seemed to like it, so Tony decided to push down his embarrassment and to keep doing it.
“Don’t say that, it's mean…” Peter mumbled, leaning into his touch.
Tony exhaled softly, smiling fondly. The boy was such a little sweetheart.
“Sorry, Pete. You won’t have to deal with him anymore, okay? I’ve got it handled.”
Peter looked at the man with a puzzled expression, squinting his eyes a bit. Then a flash of realization passed over him, and his face twisted into a frown.
“I didn’t mean to make you mad at him, I’m sorry.” He looked down, a guilty expression plastered on his face.
“It’s okay– y-you didn’t do anything wrong, bud.” Tony stuttered, desperately wanting to reassure the boy but not quite knowing how.
“Yes I did, ‘cause now you’re both angry and it’s all ‘cause of me–”
“It’s not because of you, Peter–”
“Yes it is!” Peter cried.
The room was silent for a moment, the rhythmic beeping and the whirring from the AC seeming far louder than they had before.
“S-Sorry…” Peter mumbled, still not looking at Tony.
Tony just sighed. Neither talked for a minute or two. It was a long, uncomfortable silence, unspoken words looming over the pair. Tony wanted to tell the boy a million things, but all of them felt wrong to say.
“Mr. Stark…?” Peter finally choked out, his voice tiny and weak– he’d only been up for a few minutes but he already seemed exhausted. His healing factor was a beast, but it usually took a lot of energy (and calories– the kid was a never ending pit) to keep up with all of his small injuries from patrol. He’d probably sleep a dozen more hours before he woke again, Tony thought.
“Please don’t kick Mr. Captain America out.”
Tony sighed, but he forced himself to smile. He couldn’t upset the kid anymore.
“I’d never do that, it's too predictable– FRI, tell Brucie that spiderling woke up, will you?”
“Alerting Bruce Banner of Peter’s current condition.”
Tony shifted in his seat uncomfortably, trying to put on some of his usual composure. He just wanted to ease the poor kid– he looked like he was about to cry.
“You should go to sleep, roos. It’s past your bedtime.” Tony grinned when Peter started to pout.
“I’m not a baby!!” He cried.
“Mhm. Night-night, spiderling.” Tony smirked, patting the kid’s head before standing up.
“Goodnight…” Peter muttered, scooching down in the bed and snuggling himself under the blanket.
“Wait!” The strained cry made Tony spin around in an instant.
“S-Sorry I didn’t mean to yell.” Peter mumbled, looking down. “...could you turn on the heat, p-please?”
Tony eased a little, dropping his shoulders. Peter couldn’t thermoregulate. He was just a bit cold, that’s all.
“FRI, turn up the heat and shut off the main light, please.”
The bright, fluorescent lights switched off, the room filling with the soft glow of a large floor lamp. Tony immediately felt the temperature change, the room quickly filling with warmth.
“That better?”
Peter nodded sleepily, already seeming to be drifting off. Tony chuckled softly, the sound coming from deep in his throat. He’d been sitting in the room since Peter had been admitted; maybe it was good for him to give the boy some space, even if it made a lump of anxiety form in his stomach.
“Goodnight, bambino.”
The door clicked shut softly behind Tony. He stopped dead in his tracks when he spotted a familiar blonde man staring into the medbay through the window. He turned his head slightly to look at Tony, a guilty expression on his face.
“Is he alright?” He dared to ask.
“Do you care?” Tony spat, the anger already seeping into him. But, no, he needed to stay civil. He couldn’t handle another argument after everything.
“He’s a child, Tony. He shouldn’t be in a position to be injured like this.”
“He wouldn’t be injured if he wasn’t trying to protect your sorry ass– y’know, I never did hear you thank him for saving your life.”
Steve sighed loudly, seeming somewhat guilty. He thought about his words for a moment.
“I’m sorry for handling it like I did, Tony, but he is a child–”
Tony grit his teeth to stop from yelling– he couldn’t just apologize, could he? Couldn’t just say “I’m sorry, I was being a dumbass” like an adult?
“Yeah, I know.” Tony’s voice was bitter with anger but he kept his composure. “He’s also enhanced. And can dodge bullets no problem, and is a genius, and has a healing factor, and oh, he can stick to walls.”
Steve was silent for a moment, his gaze shifting back to the already-asleep Peter. Tony wanted to look at the boy, but he didn’t want to risk locking eyes with Steve, even in the reflection.
“Tony, if the kid gets hurt on duty–”
“He’s not going to get hurt, Rogers. He is more than capable, so shut it.”
Steve was quiet for another long moment– he was always one for dramatic pauses– and Tony matched him. He didn’t owe the man any words.
“He’s a good kid. Got a good heart.” Steve shoved his hands in his pockets, shifting his gaze back to Tony.
“Don’t I know it.” Tony let out a soft, self-deprecating laugh, but his tone quickly grew more serious. “He’s twice the hero either of us will ever be. Sweetest kid I’ve ever met, and he’s a damn genius too.”
Again, Steve went quiet. Tony sighed, tipping his head back and rolling his eyes. He was sick of this conversation.
“Look, twenty minutes ago I would’ve kicked your sorry ass out in an instant. But lucky for you, Peter is too sweet for his own good, and he’ll feel guilty if I give you the boot. So you get another chance. Blow it, and you’re gone. Be glad that you didn’t piss him off, because then you’d be dead. Capish?”
Steve gave a stoic nod, looking remarkably guilty. Tony, mustering as much smugness that he could– which was quite a lot– turned squarely and walked away. Steve seemingly tried to say something else, but it was lost when Tony left the room, sliding the door shut with appropriate sass.
Tony was still mad. He was mad that Peter got hurt defending Steve of all people. He was mad that Steve said all those things to him. He was mad that Steve couldn’t just forget his pride and say he was sorry (Tony would still be mad, but a little less mad).
But maybe it wasn’t worth all the hassle of more fighting. Because, yes, he would love to see the look on Roger’s face if he gave him the boot, and, yes, he did love kicking people out, it wasn’t worth making Peter– and more than likely Pepper– upset with him. Because those were the people who mattered or something corny like that.
…Tony also wasn’t sure he was actually allowed to kick Captain America out of the Avengers. He could definitely kick him out of the tower, but the Avengers? Well, he was Tony Stark, which usually meant he could do whatever he pleased, but he did just hand over the Avengers to the UN, so he didn’t quite have control.
But Steve didn’t need to know that.