Peter felt dizzy; not concussion dizzy, the kind of dizzy where everything was one blurry mess and he couldn’t tell left from right.
He’d contemplated leaving town, but that hadn’t gone too well the last time he’d done it.
Peter kind of felt like he was on some kind of mental merry-go-round. Spinning too fast, for him to make sense of anything. Too fast for him to jump off without getting hurt.
He used to write his journal and scribble out whatever thoughts were consuming him. Whether they made sense or not didn’t matter, whether they were finished or unfinished. It didn’t matter to him.
Having sentences three lines long, jumping from one train of thought to the next with no rhyme or reason. Peter wrote whatever he was thinking at the moment.
Sometimes he was more methodical about how he wrote on the page, other times he didn’t even care if it was legible.
And it was fine, it didn’t matter because no one was supposed to see it. Those were his thoughts, his feelings. The journal contained things, a lot of things, that he’d never wanted anyone to know.
Thoughts, feelings, and actions that he’d planned to take to the grave. Some were embarrassing, some were shameful, and some were just private.
And now they weren’t.
On one hand, at least it was Tony who read it. Tony, who already knew Peter’s mind was pure chaos on a good day with a side of fucked-up. If it was May, he thinks he’d just make some toast in the tub and call it a day.
Ned wouldn’t do this to him. Of course, a few hours ago, he’d have thought the same thing about Tony. Well, not the same, maybe similar— he’d hoped Tony wouldn’t do this to him.
On the other hand, it was Tony who read it, meaning Peter couldn’t exactly call him up and vent to him about this. Peter couldn’t go running to Tony, he couldn’t bury himself under the blankets on the couch in the lab, and he couldn’t hide in Tony’s arms and pretend nothing else existed.
Because this time it wasn’t Norman, or Skip, or Richard that he was trying to run from. This time it was Tony.
Peter paused in his sprinting when his phone began to ring.
For the first time, when Peter saw Tony’s name on the screen, he turned his phone off.
.
Peter banged on the door. “OPEN UP, NED, SHIT’S GONE OF THE RAILS AND I NEED YOU!”
Ned ripped open the door. “Peter?!”
Peter stalked inside the apartment.
“You’re lucky no one is home!” Ned called behind him. “Do you have any idea how- are you good?”
Peter knew he looked insane. Pacing in a circle, biting his finger, and panting like he’d run a marathon. “Are you on a call with anyone?”
“No? Dude, what’s going on?” Ned slowly approached him. “Are you on something?”
Peter raked his hands through his hair as he inhaled. “No. I’m just so over everything right now and I know I haven’t been the best friend to you, I know that, and if you tell me to get out right now I will but I really need to talk to someone right now.”
Ned placed his hands on Peter’s shoulders. “Peter! Take a breath before you pass out.” Ned exaggerated a deep breath for him to follow. “We can circle back to the good or bad friend thing later, okay?”
“No, I really have been being a bad friend but I swear I have a good reason.”
“Peter, you’re not a bad friend. You’re a bit flakey and chronically late, but that’s just how you are.” Ned shrugged. “I know you care about me, regardless of whether you make it to every hangout or not. Now, talk.”
Ned was such a good friend, Peter really didn’t deserve him. “It’s a really long story and I just need you to just hear me out.”
Ned winced. “How long is this story?”
“I don’t know.”
Peter had to tell him about being Spider-Man, explain all of that, and after that hurdle, he could explain how he met Tony and then explain how they got closer, and sometime in between there he needed to very vaguely mention Richard and that shit, and then he could get into the situation and how it was making him feel.
“Long,” Peter decided.
Ned rubbed his chin. “Can I at least play a game while you talk?”
“What kind of game?”
“It’s this, like, farming game kind of? It’s also like an RPG, so,” Ned explained.
Peter shrugged. “Okay, turn it on.”
“I already have, like, eighty hours on this game; it’s so addicting. You should try playing it some time, I think you’d really like it,” Ned explained as he turned on the game.
Peter leaned against Ned, partly for comfort and mostly because he wanted to see the screen. “Maybe I will.”
Ned showed him around his farm and some of the mechanics before remembering why Peter was there— “Okay, so what did you want to tell me?”
“I’m Spider-Man, and-”
Peter had never seen Ned’s head move faster to give him a look. “Are you sure you didn’t take anything?”
Peter webbed Ned’s face.
“AH!” Ned yelped and began to pull at the web. “Did that come from inside you?!”
“Call it payback for that time you drooled all over my shoulder.”
“I couldn’t help that, Peter!” Ned defended, as he always did, “You’re Spider-Man?!”
“Do you want to say that a bit louder?!”
Ned turned off his game. “I can’t believe this.”
Peter sighed and patted Ned on the shoulder. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, I was worried-”
“Did you think I was going to hate you?” Ned asked. “I know I don’t exactly preach mutant rights but I didn’t think I gave off anti-mutant rights, did I?”
“Oh, Ned, this had nothing to do with you! I just thought that involving you would mean that you got hurt and I didn’t want you to get hurt so I had to hide it from you— from everyone.”
Ned slowly nodded. “Okay…” Then, “I guess this is better than you being an escort.”
“What?!”
With a shrug, “It was just a rumor that floated around briefly. Flash shut it down pretty quickly, though. You know, I’ll never understand that guy.”
“We can talk about Flash later, Ned,” Peter said, “I need you to focus right now. Me being Spider-Man is just the tip of the iceberg.”
Ned ignored him. “I just don’t get how you’ve been living a second life this whole time! Motherfucker, you make a living off of selling photos of Spider-Man, how are you Spider-Man?!”
Peter pulled on his hair. “How do you think I get the photos?! Besides, if they’re going to profit off of me, then it’s only fair that I get a cut!”
Ned snapped his fingers. “So true.”
“Good Lord, who are you hanging out with at college?”
“I’ll have you know I picked this up from Betty. It makes her laugh.”
“You’re talking to Betty, again?”
Ned waved his hand. “Kind of. We’re relearning each other while we’re both here.”
Oh, right. Betty was going to school in a different state. Peter remembers Ned mentioning that over the phone, also mentioning something about neither of them wanting to do long-distance.
Peter shot him a look. “Is that what you guys are calling it?”
Ned kicked him. “Shut up. This isn’t about me, this is about you.”
Peter groaned at the reminder. He knew he was being dramatic by flopping on the bed and draping an arm over his eyes, but he didn’t care.
Ned just patted his stomach, then started poking it. “Holy shit, dude. You’re like a brick wall.”
“Ned,” Peter whined.
“Flash would lose his shit if he saw these abs, Peter.” Ned blew out a breath. “Peter, why aren’t you capitalizing on your body as Peter Parker? Why only show off when you’re Spider-Man?”
“I do not show off when I am Spider-Man.”
Ned snorted. “You totally do. That suit hides nothing.”
“Loose fabric just gets in my way and snags on things! Plus it is really uncomfortable when I’m swinging around New York. Sensory nightmare. Besides, how would I even capitalize?”
“Only fans?”
Peter moved to hit Ned.
“Kidding! Peter, if you flashed these bad boys at least one person would be interested enough to look past your…everything else.”
“Ned, I don’t need nor want to be in a relationship right now.”
“That makes one of us. But, whatever, let’s hear the rest of your complaints.” After a look from Peter, he mimed zipping his lips. “For real this time.”
Peter pulled down his shirt and fiddled with the hem. “Okay, so I wasn’t always like this.”
Ned snorted. “You’re telling me.”
Peter glared at him. “Basically, I got bit by a spider made by my parents when they worked for Oscorp. But they ended up fleeing because Oscorp was going to sell it to the government to make, like, super soldiers.”
“Classic.” Ned shook his head.
“Anyway, my mother died and I thought Richard did too, but turns out he was alive and he came back and did some really messed up shit.”
“To you?”
“Yeah, sold my ass out to Oscorp. Specifically, Norman Osborn who was actually the Green Goblin.”
Ned covered his mouth with his hand. “But the Green Goblin…”
“The other Green Goblin was…”
“Harry,” Ned finished. He ran a hand through his hair. “Damn.”
“Yeah,” Peter agreed.
“Makes sense, I guess.”
Peter just hummed.
Ned patted his knee.
Petet soaked up the comfort. “But whatever, I’m mostly over all that stuff.”
Tony had kind of been helping him work through all of that. Or, well, Tony had been present while Peter worked through it.
Ned’s eyebrows were raised but he didn’t speak whatever he was thinking.
“So, anyway, after that was the whole Stark Internship thing.”
Ned gasped. “Don’t tell me!”
“It was a cover.” Peter nodded. “Tony,” the name made his stomach flip, “took me to Germany to fight the others about the Accords.”
Ned looked equally troubled and excited. “Why is that so cool yet so messed up?”
Peter waved his hand. “He ended up fighting to include some of the changes I suggested, you know, to protect the mutants who just want to exist.”
Ned motioned for him to go on.
“And well… I didn’t like him at first.”
“WHAT?! You wear his merch all the time!”
“Well, he made Aunt May think I was keeping secrets from her! Of course, I was salty!”
“Weren’t you?”
“Yeah…but she didn’t need to know that,” Peter pointed out.
“Wait a minute.” Ned held up a hand. “Am I about to find out my best friend is secretly friends with Tony Stark?”
Peter turned on his side away from Ned. He kind of didn’t want to see Ned’s face when he revealed it.
“He came by the coffee shop I work at, and I put my foot in my mouth,” Peter started.
“As usual.”
Peter ignored him. “And so I made him cookies to apologize and yeah. From there we started talking more and more. He helped me with wounds I couldn’t patch up and I helped him with lost blueprints and moles in his company.”
“Uh-huh. I’m waiting for you to tell me why any of this is a bad thing.”
Peter didn’t dare open his mouth.
“I don’t like relying on people. It’s…terrifying to put that much trust in someone.”
Peter sobbed.
“Oh my God!” Ned hovered over him.
Peter choked down the next sob as he wiped his face with his hands. “I’m okay.”
“I just don’t believe that.” Ned hesitantly wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “Do you need to take a break?”
“No, I need- I need to get this off my chest.” Peter took a breath to steel himself. “At some point, I’d begun to think of him as family. Put him right up there next to Aunt May.”
Ned nodded, his arm still wrapped around him.
“And it was mutual, I guess. One minute everything was fine between us, I thought, and the next he’d run away for some bullshit business trip.” Peter hiccuped. “Of course, it’s during that trip that shit goes really wrong and I ended up in a really bad situation.”
Ned grabbed Peter’s hand, squeezing it.
“You know Bucky Barnes?”
“Like, Steve Rogers’ Bucky Barnes?”
“That one.” Peter nodded. “Well, turns out he killed Tony’s parents but it got covered up. So Tony kind of doesn’t really like him, he doesn’t hold it against him since he was brainwashed and everything, but he also doesn’t really want to be around him. You know?”
“Your life is all kinds of freaky, man. But, yeah, I guess I’m following.”
Peter sniffed. “Well, he was the one who saved me. Ned, if he hadn’t been there…”
Ned’s jaw clenched as he took in a deep breath.
Peter leaned his head on Ned’s shoulder. “He knows who I am, I took him back to my apartment and he patched me up.”
“And you feel guilty because you know Stark doesn’t like him?” Ned guessed.
“Yeah. Pretty much.”
“But, Peter, it was either that or die. So…in my professional opinion, Stark can kick rocks.”
“Ned,” Peter complained.
“No, Pete, you’re my best friend. If you got saved by my arch-nemesis, I’d just be thankful you were still alive. I wouldn’t be mad at you, it’s not like you asked to be put in that position.”
“I guess. He probably would just worry and maybe feel bad, but I don’t know. I was kind of spiraling really bad and kept thinking that he hated me.”
“His loss,” Ned said instantly.
Peter fussed with Ned’s blanket. “So, I kind of tested him? I mean, it wasn’t really a test, I really did need help. And it was, like, less than twenty-four hours later that he was in my apartment.”
Ned nodded approvingly. “Okay, the rating of him is going back up from two to three stars.”
“He gets five out of five, Ned.” Peter may not be happy with him right now, but Tony was still one of his.
“Your rating and my rating, don’t have to match.”
Peter rolled his eyes. “Anyway, he helped me and I may have accidentally added fuel to the flames without even realizing it.”
“What did you do?”
Peter ignored the churning anxiety. “This is so embarrassing.”
“No, this is interesting. You’re like my own little soap opera.”
“I’m glad you’re entertained by my misery,” Peter muttered.
Just like a bandaid.
“So, I was actually really pathetic. Also, I have an enhanced metabolism now, so after not eating for two days, I was too weak to do much of anything.”
Peter was purposefully looking away from Ned.
“And he may have washed my hair for me? And-”
“Okay, hold on.” Ned held up a hand. “I gotta wrap my head around this. Tony Stark washed your hair?”
Peter shrugged. “He’s actually really nice.”
Ned still looked like he was wrapping his head around it. “Okay, I’m ready.”
Clearing his throat. “So, while he was drying my hair, I may have told him that he’d make a good dad.”
“Is this going where I think it’s going?”
“At the time, I didn’t realize I meant as my dad! I didn’t even know I thought of him like that until a week ago!”
“And what did he say?”
“He said it was because it was me.”
“Dude, is Tony Stark going to adopt you?”
“No,” Peter denied, “and I don’t want him to. I’m Aunt May’s kid first and foremost.”
Ned hummed. “How’s she doing by the way?”
“You’ll never guess who she’s dating.”
“Tony Stark?!”
“No!” Peter shot Ned a dirty look. “She’s dating Happy Hogan!”
“The driver?”
“He’s the head of security, now.”
“Oh, good for him.”
Peter nodded. “So, anyway, imagine my surprise when this man tells me he loves me like I’m his kid.”
Ned’s brows lifted. “And what did you say?”
“Well, he didn’t know I could hear him. So, I didn’t say anything because at the time I thought that it was unreciprocated. I thought it was just a him thing.”
“Okay…”
“And so, I’m like losing my mind because how did I not notice? And so I decide to run away on some business trip to get some space and think things through.”
“Oh! I saw your little thing online! People really liked it! I did, too.” Then Ned gasped. “Was the guy actually Tony Stark?!”
“Yeah.” Peter waved his hand. “But that doesn’t matter.”
“Well, I’m super proud of you, man. Ben would be, too.”
Peter had to put his head in his hand for a moment. “If you don’t want me to be a blubbering fool, don’t say such things.”
Ned had the decency to look apologetic. “Sorry, go on.”
“Well, the trip went terribly.”
“How?”
“I fell and got a concussion.”
“Oh my God. I- how?”
“I threw a pity party and consumed seizure-inducing amounts of caffeine. And so I was a little out of it, and you know I can’t keep a place decluttered to save my life so, yeah. Anyway, so I woke up with a huge bruise on my head, but then I accidentally factory reset my phone and so I kind of forgot.”
“Please, tell me you went to the hospital.”
“I did…eventually. So, I spend the next two days trying to work and getting nothing done because I keep passing out or losing focus, and it’s almost like there’s a fog in my brain.”
Ned looked horrified. “I hate that this is on-brand behavior for you.”
“So, eventually, I have to call Tony because he’s supposed to be my ride. But this was when I’d just realized he’s like a father figure to me, so I was desperate to not say anything so I accidentally gave out the other thing that I was trying to keep from him.”
“Which is…?”
“The caffeine thing. Except, idiot me over here blurts out that I relapsed with no explanation. So, now Tony is freaking out.”
“That wasn’t the first time you did that?” Ned asked.
“Sadly, no. But, whatever, it’s okay. I’m doing a lot better now.” Peter patted Ned’s thigh. “Don’t worry, I’m okay.”
Ned didn’t look entirely convinced. “If you say so.”
“Well, anyway, he starts trying to tell me something, trying to make me feel better about needing help but all I can focus on is the fact that I’m going to lose him as my best friend if he becomes my father-”
“What? Why?”
“Are you serious? If he’s my father, then our relationship changes forever! Parents don’t rely on their children. That’s not how it goes…probably.”
Ned hummed. “But remember, you’re not a kid anymore. Sure, Stark may love you like you’re his kid, but before that, you were his friend.”
Peter brought his knees to his chest. “And that’s why I'm so scared. What if I lose him? Well, actually, never mind. I don’t have to worry about that, I’m pretty sure things are ruined forever.”
“How did you come to that conclusion?”
“Well, okay, so Tony figures something is wrong with me when I just go off the rails yelling about how I don’t need him and I don’t need anybody and blah blah blah.”
Ned inched away from him.
“Anyway, Tony used the Iron Man suit to fly to Tenessee and force me to go to the hospital because he thought I had a concussion.”
“Another star for Mr. Stark.” Ned snorted. “Mr. Star-k.”
Peter did smile at that. “That was actually kind of funny. But anyway, I put ‘father’ as our relationship on the form with his information. And I thought I’d gotten away with it until the nurse outed me, not cool ma’am.”
“How’d he react?”
“He didn’t!” Peter cried. “He just completely shut down.”
“Maybe he was disappointed? You know, like in all those shows where two people are fake-dating and there’s always a scene where one of them gets really angry or sad with the other one because it’s all fake when they want it to be real.”
Peter blinked at him. “Huh. Maybe.”
Peter thinks about all the times Tony had called him his kid, and how he’d go from feeling fuzzy to hollow.
“I just wanted to know what was wrong! You've been acting weird and I know it's my fault but I don't know what I did and I don't want to lose you.”
Peter scrubbed his face with his hands. “But, Ned, it’s all fucked up now.”
“Why? It seems like all of this would be solved with a conversation. Just sit down and realize you two live very unconventional lives that have permanently traumatized the both of you, and just hug it out realizing neither of you will ever have a normal relationship because neither of you can be normal.”
“Tony read my journal.”
“He what?”
Peter flopped back on the bed. “I have this journal where I write down my thoughts.”
“Like a diary?
“Yeah, basically, except it’s a boring blue. And unlike a diary, it didn’t come with a lock.”
“Rookie mistake.” Ned shook his head.
“I didn’t think anyone would go through it!”
“Was it an accident? Did Stark think it was something else?”
Peter shook his head, he felt his face crumpling. “I told him what it was. I told him what I wrote in there, he knew how important it was. He did it while I was on the trip. I’d told him to grab my suit and he’d read the journal while he was there.”
“Oh, that’s…that’s really fucked up. How did you find out?”
“He told me. But he- he spent all this time talking about trust and being honest, meanwhile, he’d just violated mine!”
Peter stood up to begin pacing again. Now that he was thinking about it again, he was getting heated. “I trusted him, Ned! Just for him to pull some shit like this and try to hide it?!”
Ned hummed. “And how did that make you feel?”
“Fucking angry! That’s how it made me feel!”
“Anger is a secondary emotion, Peter. What do you feel beneath that?”
Peter shot Ned a look. “What are you doing?”
“I am helping you work through these emotions following this guide I found online.”
Peter pinched the bridge of his nose. “Well, can you lose the voice?”
“What voice?”
“The- whatever, it doesn’t matter.”
“Do you want my help or not?” Ned folded his arms across his chest.
“Yes!” Peter threw his hands up. “Yes, please!”
Ned breathed. “Okay, now let’s talk about this. You said you feel angry, but aside from the anger, what do you feel?”
Peter fiddled with the LEGO models lining a shelf in Ned’s room. He’d helped Ned put some of these together. He remembered the long days and nights of gluing each and every individual piece together.
He missed those times.
“I feel…”
Peter felt like he was back on that table. Strapped down, stripped bare, and in too much pain to do anything but cry.
“Peter?”
Peter hadn’t realized that he’d crouched and curled into a ball. “I feel humiliated and…not vulnerable but-”
“Exposed?” Ned suggested.
“Yeah, that.” Peter nodded.
“How do you feel about him?”
“I was really mad at him, I still kind of am but now that most of the anger has faded, I’m just hurt.”
Ned didn’t say anything.
“I don’t want to talk to him, Ned. I don’t want to see him or- or be reminded of him.”
“That’s…understandable. I think a lot of people would feel that way.”
Peter chewed his lip. “But, not because I’m mad, it’s because I want to stay mad.” Peter looked up to see Ned looking very confused.
“Explain?”
“It’s like- ugh.” Peter rubbed his face with his hands. “You know when your cat shreds your favorite sweater, but when you turn to look at them, they look at you all sweet and you can’t be mad at them anymore?”
“Are we seriously comparing Tony Stark to a pet cat right now?”
“I guess so.” Peter rubbed his arms. “It’s just hard to stay mad at him. And I get why he did it, I guess.”
Ned sighed. “Look, Peter, I don’t know exactly how you’re feeling but I have a good idea.”
Peter looked at him, wordlessly tilting his head.
“My mom did the same thing to me,” Ned revealed, “I’m pretty sure it’s some kind of coming-of-age thing a parent has to do.”
“Violate their privacy?”
Ned shrugged.
“Well, what did you do?”
“I forgave her, of course, I was mad and kind of petty, especially since I got grounded.”
“Grounded?!”
“I wrote a bad word. I was in, like, eighth grade at the time.”
Peter hummed. “Oh, I remember that!”
Ned waved his hand. “And so now I just never write down how I’m feeling. Problem solved. Can’t have your diary read if you never keep a diary.”
“Oh my God, Ned.” Peter hung his head.
“What?”
“You’re a genius.” Peter stood up. “If I get rid of my journal, we can pretend nothing ever happened.”
“That’s…not what I said.”
“No, wait. Hear me out. I burn the journal and I just act like I have no idea what he’s talking about. He asks about it and I just reply, what journal? And when he pushes, I just tell him I have no idea what he’s talking about. And then for good measure, I’ll tell him he must be thinking about one of his other bitches.”
Ned walked over to lay a hand on his shoulder. “Peter, this is insane behavior. But, I think that might just work.”
“Really?”
Ned was quick to dash his hopes. “No. He’s a genius, Peter, he’s going to see right through you.”
Peter stared at him for a long moment. “Why would you give me hope like that?”
“Why would you even think that could work?”
“It is not a crime to have hopes and dreams, Ned.”
“Right. Well, what did you say to him?”
“When?”
“When he told you about the journal.”
“Nothing. I kind of just ran away. He called once but I turned my phone off.”
Ned sighed. “Where’s your phone?”
“It’s on the bed. Why?” Peter watched Ned walk over to the bed. “Ned, what’re you doing?”
“I’m going to see if he sent any messages.”
“Ned, wait! He can see when I’ve read them.” Peter paced around the room.
“Okay? I think he deserves to be left on read.” Ned typed in his pin.
“No…maybe. I don’t know. I doubt he’s said anything.” Peter hurried over to the bed, sitting and hooking his chin over Ned’s shoulder to see the phone.
“Do I have any notifications?”
“Yeah. He’s texted and called a few times.”
Peter plucked the phone out of Ned’s hands.
“What’s it say?” Ned asked, grabbing onto Peter's arm.
“I don’t know, I haven’t read them yet.” Peter bounced his leg.
“Why not?”
“I’m nervous!”
“Why are you nervous? He’s the one who wronged you! He’s the one groveling.”
“Oh, please, Tony does not grovel.”
Ned scoffed. “He should. Is he just not aware of your trust issues?”
“I don’t have trust issues! I’m just very cautious and reserved, and there is nothing wrong with that.”
“As I said, trust issues.”
Peter rolled his eyes. “Whatever. It’s not a matter of trust. If he’d asked to read it, I might’ve let him. Maybe, I don’t know. I definitely would have removed some pages, I think.”
“So, then what is it?”
“What if he hates me now?”
“I doubt that.”
“What if he thinks I’m weird?”
“Peter, you are weird. You’re an angry, rude, judgemental, and annoying little cretin of a man. You somehow manage to think you’re better than people while also thinking the worst of yourself.”
“Harsh, man. Harsh,” Peter whispered.
“And we love you for it, Peter,” Ned continued, looking earnest and like he hadn’t just hit Peter where it hurts. “Because somehow you can be all of that while also being one of the kindest people I know, somehow? You’re fiercely protective of your people, and we know you love us even though you’re terrible at showing it sometimes.”
Peter put his hand to his heart. “Thanks, man.”
“Peter, if Tony doesn’t know that about you by now, then he’s a complete idiot.”
“Tony’s not an idiot,” Peter defended.
“Look, Peter, everyone’s got their demons. And with all the shit you’ve been through, I’d been concerned if you weren’t a little fucked up.”
Peter sighed.
“But, you wanna know what I think?”
“Not really.”
“I think Tony knows you’re weird. I think he knows about your anger issues, the trust issues, and all the shit in between. I think he knows exactly how dark and scary your mind can get,” Ned leaned forward, making sure Peter was meeting his gaze, “and he doesn't care.”
“I was concerned, that’s all. I was worried something had happened to you, and I still am.”
“I’m happy to be here for you.”
“No, you’re not. You’re the farthest thing from pathetic, tesoro.”
“Pete, you know I’d never judge you.”
“I know I’m not good at all of this but I’m here for you. I’m here because I want to be…”
Even when faced with Peter at his worst, Tony was constant and consistent in his concern and care: Peter with glass shards sticking out of his hand, Peter sobbing in his arm about never being enough, Peter having another mental episode about failing, Peter gross and pathetic on the floor of his apartment, and Peter concussed and spiraling in a hospital waiting room.
Through it all, Tony has only ever shown concern for his well-being.
Peter didn’t bother reading the messages.
Tony answered the phone on the first ring. A record, truly.
“Peter?” The man sounded out of breath, and anxious.
“Hi, Tony.” Peter picked at a thread.
“What happened to not wanting to talk to him?” Ned mouthed at him.
“Peter, are you okay?” Tony asked.
Peter’s stomach flipped. As mad as he’d been, he’d never wanted to worry Tony. “Yeah. I’m sorry I ran off. I do that a lot.”
“No, that was- that was a reasonable reaction.”
There was silence for a moment.
Peter looked at Ned, who shot him a thumbs-up before turning back to his game, and left the room.
“Peter, I’m really sorry,” Tony apologized.
“I know.”
“If there’s anything I can do to make this right or make this up to you, please, tell me.”
Peter could tell Tony was trying to sound put together. He didn’t need to see Tony to know the man was pacing, to know that his hair was mused from where he’d run his fingers through it.
“Whether that’s giving you space or, I don’t know. Anything. Peter, I don’t- I don’t want to lose you.”
“You’re not going to lose me over this, Tony.” Peter sighed. “You know, Tony, out of all the things to leave your mouth, it wasn’t this I was expecting.”
“...What do you mean?”
Peter steeled himself. “I know that you think of me as your kid. I heard you when you admitted it after your business trip. I didn’t say anything because I didn’t know how. I left because I needed space, I needed-”
“I was the guy,” Tony realized, “I was Mr. Calm, Cool, and Collected.”
“You’ve got a great memory.”
“Peter,” Tony started.
“Did you really mean it?” Peter asked. “Real talk, right now. No bullshit, no lies, just the honest truth: do you really mean it?”
“Yeah, Pete. Yeah, I did— I do mean it.”
“When?” Peter asked, just out of curiosity. “How long?”
“Do you remember that day when you asked me to lay on top of you? That first time?” Tony started.
Funny, Peter had just been thinking about that day. “Yeah.”
“Then,” Tony croaked, “it was that day that I realized I’d do anything for you and that I always wanted to be there.”
“Yeah, well, good job on that front,” Peter snapped.
“Peter, I’m sorry-”
“You have no fucking idea,” Peter could feel tears welling in his eyes, “about how scared I was under that building. Honestly, I don't know what I was more scared of— the fact that I was going to die or the fact that I was never going to find out what I did to make you mad."
Tony didn’t try to say anything.
Peter didn’t know why he was laughing. “And then I had to rely on Bucky fucking Barnes to save me! Out of everyone, he’d been the one to save me!”
Peter breathed for a moment. “So, yeah. In case you were wondering why I’ve been so slow to get over the fact that you ran from me— that’s why.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s whatever. It’s not like it was your fault.”
Peter didn’t blame Tony. He was just salty that the man had left him wondering.
“I tried to stop,” Tony said, “and when I couldn’t, I panicked and ran away.”
“Well, aren’t we just a match made in hell,” Peter joked, “that was a joke— laugh.”
Tony made a choking sound.
“I guess that can count as a laugh,” Peter muttered. Beggars couldn’t be choosers, after all.
“Peter, I don’t know what else to say other than I’m sorry.”
“I always thought Tony Stark didn’t apologize. I swear I’ve heard you say that before.”
There was a shuffling sound, quiet but audible. Tony must’ve shrugged his shoulders. “...Yeah, that sounds like something I’d say.”
Peter let the silence hang for a long moment. “Oh, yeah. Anyway, so I’ve been doing some thinking and I realized that I kind of think of you the same way. Well, not the same way, I don’t think of you as my kid, I think of you as my dad.”
When there was no response. “Hello? Are you still there?”
“I’m here, just trying to wrap my head around that.”
“Yeah, me too, honestly. I’d only realized while on the trip. That’s why I blurted out the whole thing about relapsing, I didn’t want to give up this secret so I accidentally gave up my other secret.”
“When can I ask about that?”
“You could ask now.”
“Will you answer?”
“Why don’t you ask and find out?”
Tony muttered something before sighing. “What did you mean by that?”
“I’m not ready to talk about that with you,” Peter answered as seriously as he could. He barely managed before he laughed. “I’m just yanking your chain.”
Tony didn’t laugh.
“You’re no fun.”
“Sorry, Pete, I’m just a hair too stressed to be laughing right now! I feel like I’m one fucking pot clang from having a panic attack and I can’t see you so I have no idea what you’re doing right now.”
Peter bit his tongue. I’m standing here talking to you.
“Well, why don’t we have this conversation later, then?”
“No! We’ll have it now, this is the farthest we’ve ever come, and you and I both know if we stop this conversation we’re never going to pick it back up again.”
That was true.
“I don’t know, you’ve been pretty persistent these past few weeks.”
Tony let out a strangled sound. “Peter, please.”
Peter chewed his thumb. “I made dumb decisions when I was a teenager, okay? One of them was a drug because of course it was.”
“I thought you said it wasn’t drugs?”
“Oh my God, can you let me finish?” Peter asked.
“Fine. Fine. Go on.”
“Thank you. Anyway, it was kind of awful but kind of amazing. But then shit happened and I decided never to do it again. And I haven’t, but the temptation is there sometimes. The desire to just not think and so I turned to caffeine. I’d consume so much that I’d be too overwhelmed to think.”
“How much is so much?”
“I dunno. Sometimes I’ll stop after the sixth energy drink, most times I’ll go for eight. Depends on what I’m running from.”
“How often?”
“Not very, at least not anymore. I’d guess about as often as you drink. Do you remember that one time you showed up at my apartment, I think it was December, and you smelled like whiskey? I didn’t mention it because I was too busy trying to act normal.”
“Yeah, I remember that night,” Tony said with a heavy sigh. “It was December 16th, the anniversary of…”
“Oh.” Peter felt like an asshole. “Well, I’m glad you came to me.”
“You know, that actually explains a lot about your behavior that night,” Tony said after a long moment.
“What? I thought I was acting pretty normal.”
Tony coughed. “You just kind of laid down and didn’t say anything.”
“I thought I was talking?”
“I mean, there were a few times when you’d mutter something but I was never able to make it out.”
“Oh. Well, that’s embarrassing.”
“I’ve done worse,” Tony assured.
“That doesn’t make me feel better. What were we talking about?”
“Uh, your relapse thing and what you meant by that.”
“Oh, right. Well, anyway, after you ghosted me, Steve and Barnes showed up, and I was just over it so I drank a shit ton of energy drinks.”
Then, Peter had a realization. “Wait a minute. You weren’t really busy, were you?!”
“I was! At first, I was busy consulting Reddit to try and get a feel for how you might react.”
Peter cackled. “What’d they tell you?”
“Well, I didn’t ask anything. Someone else asked and I just scrolled through the replies. People said that they’d hate them, and some said they’d never trust them again.
“I really was going to tell you. As soon as you got back, I was going to sit you down and tell you.”
“But then you read those posts,” Peter continued.
“And I thought that I could never let you know because then you’d hate me.”
Peter snorted. “Okay, well, rest assured that I don’t hate you.”
Peter knew he wasn’t imagining Tony’s sigh of relief.
“I’m still a little mad, and I’ll probably get more mad later when the reality further sinks in but right now I’m okay.” Then, “We’re okay.”
“I’m,” Tony started.
“Don’t say it; I know you are,” Peter interrupted. “Let’s just keep the conversation moving.”
“Right.” Tony agreed and then didn’t say anything else.
Peter went back into Ned’s room and made sure the curtains were closed before crawling onto the ceiling. “So are we just going to ignore the whole kid thing?”
“No. I’m just still trying to understand.”
Peter nodded to himself, pacing in a circle on the ceiling. Ned didn’t seem to notice, too invested in whatever was going on in his game.
“What do you mean exactly?”
“I just- I don’t know, Tony.” Peter dragged his hand down his face. “You make me feel safe and being around you makes me feel better. Even when I’m pissed at you, I still miss you when you’re not there.
“Even though I may argue back, I want you to tell me when I’m being stupid. I want you to point out my mistakes, and I want you to tell me when I’ve done good.” Peter stopped himself to take a breath.
Ned shot him an encouraging thumbs-up without removing his headphones.
“I want all of that…”
Tony cleared his throat. “I’m sensing a but?”
“I don’t want that if it means I lose you as my friend.”
“Oh, Peter.”
“I- I like what we have going on, you know? Or had, I guess, before everything got complicated. I like when we bicker because we’re both too stubborn for our own good. I like when you come to my apartment to hide from whatever bullshit you have going on. I like that you trust me enough to vent to me about whatever’s on your mind.”
“I-”
“Ah!” Peter could almost sense what Tony was about to say. “I’m only going to be as open with you as you are with me. So, don’t give me any bullshit about how you shouldn’t do that anyway.”
“Peter, let me talk.”
Peter bristled but kept his mouth shut.
“Peter,” Tony started, his previous confidence fading, “I'll be honest, I don't really know what to say. I don't know what's the right or wrong thing to say, I've got nothing, kid. No experience with this, no knowledge to fall back on.”
“You and I both,” Peter muttered.
“But I know that I,” Tony faltered before clearing his throat and saying: “I know that I love you, Peter.”
Peter blinked back the burning in his eyes at the certainty in his voice.
“I like what we've got going on too, Pete. I wasn't lying in that waiting room, you know? You're right up there with Rhodey.”
Peter snorted. “Did you ever tell him that he's been dethroned?”
“Not yet, I was waiting for you to have my back in case he attacks. Rhodey can be quite vicious.” Tony laughed. “But, Pete, none of that has to change.”
“Doesn't it?” Peter asked.
“No. Not if we don't want it to.”
“But, normally-”
“You're Spider-Man, kid, since when do you care about normal?” Tony interjected.
Peter remembered that he was on the ceiling. “And you're Tony Stark. You don't do normal, either.”
“Of course, not. I'm eccentric.”
“If you were poor, you'd just be crazy,” Peter pointed out.
“It’s all about perspective, Pete.”
Peter didn't fight the grin. “Right.”
“So, why can't we?” Tony questioned. “Why can't our relationship be as weird and eccentric as we are?”
“It'd be on brand. It would only make sense,” Peter agreed.
The conversation lulled.
“Peter, I understand if you don't want to tell me but where are you? Are you okay?”
Peter swallowed, suddenly remembering why they weren't face-to-face. “Yeah. I'm with Ned, right now.”
“Do you-”
Peter sniffed. “I think I need some space.”
“Okay, Peter,” Tony said, voice tight.
“I wanted to call you and get this worked out, though, because if I didn't I think I'd have gone insane.”
“I'm glad that you did.”
Peter bit his lip. “I meant what I said, Tony, you're not going to lose me. I just need a few days to get over it.”
“I get it, Pete. If you ever need anything, just call, okay? Whether it's money or a ride or-”
“Thank you, Tony,” Peter interrupted, then after a moment. “I love you.”
“I- yeah, me too.”
Peter ended the call feeling lighter than he had in weeks.
“So, how'd it go?” Ned peeled off his headphones when Peter crawled onto the bed.
“I think it went well,” Peter buried his face into Ned’s pillow, curling up close to him to see the screen.
“So, are you gonna be calling him dad now or…”
Peter bit Ned.
“Ow! No biting! We've been over this, Peter!”
Peter huffed and closed his eyes. “I'm taking a nap now.”
Ned muttered very mean things under his breath.
Ned deserved the second bite.
-
The almost peace Peter had felt vanished the second he walked into his room.
Once the fear of losing Tony had vanished, white-hot rage quickly took its place.
“You fucker!” Peter nearly ripped the drawer out of his dresser. “I fucking knew it! I knew it! And you lied to my face!”
Clothes were thrown on the floor as he scrambled for his journal.
Peter growled as he split the notebook into two, shredding it down the middle. “Who knows, Peter, definitely not me! Maybe I moved it by accident!” Peter poorly quoted Tony's words. “Liar!”
Page after page of the notebook was ripped out and shredded into tiny pieces.
Peter wanted the journal gone. He wanted to forget it ever even existed, he wanted to pretend that this had never happened.
Peter paused when he saw Tony's name. It had been a while since he'd seen this page. Things had gotten so easy around Tony, complicated but easy. Peter no longer had to plot and plan.
If Peter felt like hugging Tony, then he would. If Peter wanted to pat Tony’s shoulder, then he would. If Peter wanted to bring Tony something, he knew what to grab.
Tony gasped. “How’d you know I was craving these?”
Peter smiled as the man immediately shoved the tamale in his mouth. “You mentioned them the other day. Now, slow down before you choke.”
Peter decided he’d leave this page intact.
.
“Hi, baby,” May greeted warmly, pulling him in for a hug.
Peter was careful not to squeeze her too tight.
“Not that I’m not happy to see you, but what prompted this visit?” May pulled back, her hands going to his cheeks.
Peter lifted the arm that the groceries were resting on. “I missed you and I have the day off so I thought I’d come by and maybe make you dinner?”
“Oh, Peter, you don’t have to,” May said, even as she peered into the bags he’d brought.
“I know I don’t have to, I want to. But if you have other plans for dinner, I get it.”
May waved him off. “Of course, not.”
“Great, then I’ll get started on dinner.”
May glanced at the time on her watch. “Now? It’s only noon.”
Peter showed her the beef, potatoes, and carrots. “Stew.”
May’s eyes lit up. “It’s been a while since I’ve had some quality stew.”
Once the pot was dragged out, Peter began washing the potatoes. “Me too. But I saw the meat on sale and thought, why not?”
“Do you want me to cut the potatoes for you?”
Peter raised his brows at her. Something that earned him a smack on the arm.
“I can cut potatoes, Peter!”
Peter raised his hands in surrender, paying no mind to the water dripping down to his elbows. “I didn’t say anything!”
“Uh-huh.” May took the potatoes from the colander and began chopping.
After a moment, Peter relaxed as he scrubbed potatoes, listening to May hum as she cut them. They fell into an easy rhythm.
“Ben made stew the first night you stayed with us,” May said in a soft voice. “I don’t know if I ever told you that.”
“No.” Peter blinked the tears out of his eyes. “No, I don’t think you did.”
“For some reason, I worried that you’d hate it, that it would remind you of what happened. But no,” May scraped the chunks of potato into the pot, “just like Ben, this was your go-to food when you were upset.”
Peter was startled when May put her hand on his shoulder. “What’s going on, Peter?”
Peter sniffed and wiped his eyes. Not that it helped since his hands were wet from the faucet. “I’ve just been feeling kind of low, recently.”
May rubbed circles on his back.
“And I kind of realized how much I’d been pushing you guys away.” Peter turned off the faucet.
“I’m sorry,” May apologized.
Peter shook his head. “Don’t be, it’s not your fault.”
May squeezed his shoulder.
“I know I need to do better, but I don’t…” Peter faltered.
“Let’s get this stew on, okay?” May said.
Peter couldn’t hold back the sigh of relief at the distraction.
.
It had been Peter’s idea to watch the Jurrasic Park trilogy, again. May was in the middle of queuing up the next movie when Peter cleared his throat.
“Aunt May? Can I ask for your advice about something?”
May set the remote on the table, considering him with furrowed brows. “Of course. What’s going on?”
Peter cracked his knuckles. “So, let's say you have this friend.”
May raised a brow at him.
Peter held up a hand. “It’s not like that, Aunt May.”
“Okay, fine. Go on.”
“So, you have this friend and- nevermind, this is a terrible way to start this.”
“Take your time, sweetheart.” May squeezed his knee.
Peter focused on taking some deep breaths. “Do you remember that one counselor I had for a little while? After…him.”
May’s face went hard for a moment before she nodded.
“Well, you remember how I journal sometimes?”
May nodded after a moment of consideration. “I remember that.”
Peter tucked his hands under his knees after realizing he’d been sticking and unsticking them. “I don’t do it as often, but I still write.”
May looked like she was wondering where this was going.
“My friend read my journal, on purpose, and then lied about it to my face.”
May pressed her lips together. The way she did when she was mad but trying not to be.
Peter combed a hand through his hair. “At first I was mad, but then I was scared because what if he thinks I’m weird and hates me? But then, I realized that was stupid, he knew I was weird before he even read the journal. So, I called him and we talked, he apologized and I think I said it was fine.”
May pulled his hand away from his hair when he began to tug.
“And it was, but then when I got home, I remembered that he’d lied and I got really mad. And I keep on switching between being angry and sad— and I want to see him but at the same time I want to hide away forever. Now, I don't know what to do.”
“These are some pretty big feelings, Peter,” May said, hesitantly.
Peter scrubbed his face with his hands. “How do I do it? How do I let it go?”
May sighed and reached for his hands to squeeze them. “You forgive him.”
“How?” Peter asked. “I feel like every time I think I’ve forgiven him, that I’m over it, I’ll remember and start getting frustrated again.”
May’s smile was sad. “Did he tell you why he did it?”
Peter sighed. “He was worried about me. He thought it would help him figure out what was going on.”
“Ah.” May nodded.
“So, it’s not like it was done for no reason.” Peter’s face scrunched. “But that doesn’t change the fact that he lied about it!”
Understanding flashed across her face. “What’s bothering you more, Peter, that he read your journal or that he lied about it?”
A pit settled in Peter’s stomach. “...I get why he lied about it.”
“But it still bothers you.”
Peter dropped his head into his hands when he felt tears prick at his eyes, again. “I don’t like this.”
“I would be worried if you did.” May ran her fingers through his hair.
“I’m just so tired of this. I’m tired of crying, I’m tired of being angry, and I’m tired of— I don’t know, being tired!” Peter said, his hands pressing into his eyes.
If Peter had been in Tony’s place, he’d have lied about it too. But that didn’t change the fact that it still hurt.
Peter had been so honest with Tony, and Tony had lied to his face. Repeatedly. And Peter wasn’t quite sure when he’d be done feeling salty about that.
The two were startled out of their moment by the door unlocking.
“May?”
“Oh, great, just what I need.” Peter wiped at his eyes.
“Do you want me to tell him to leave?” May asked as she stood up.
“No.” Peter shook his head. “He can stay. It’s fine.”
May considered him for a moment.
“Oh, Peter,” Happy visibly recoiled at the sight of him. “Is this a bad time?”
Peter sniffed. “Nope. No better time, I’m making stew.”
Happy nodded. “Is, uh, everything okay?”
“Yep,” Peter answered before May could, “just a bit frustrated with a friend, right now.”
Something flashed across Happy’s face.
“But, that’s irrelevant.” Peter waved his hand. “I’m choosing to be done with it. We’re going to finish this Jurassic Park trilogy, you’re welcome to join, Happy.”
Happy shifted. “Are you sure? I was just in the area-”
“Happy, get over here.” Peter patted the couch, he glanced over to May, who was smiling at the two of them.
“Oh! That reminds me, Peter, I’ve got something to show you.” May patted her pockets. “Where did I put my phone?”
“Did you leave it on the charger, maybe?” Peter guessed.
May snapped her fingers. “I’ll be right back.”
Once May disappeared, Happy turned to him. “This friend…”
Peter leaned his head back. “Don’t.”
“It is, isn’t it?”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“It’s Tony.”
Peter scowled at him. “I’m not telling you.” Then, he realized that was telling enough. “Ah, forget it. Yeah, it is. What’s it to you?”
Happy made a shrugging motion. “Just…curious.”
“I’m not telling you what happened, so you can forget about it.”
“Does Tony know?”
“Know what? That I’m upset?” Peter questioned. “Of course, he knows.”
Happy nodded, his face was doing something. It was some expression that Peter couldn’t quite put his finger on.
Peter leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “How’s he been?”
Happy shot him a look.
“Don’t look at me like that, he’s the one who wronged me!” Peter said, keeping his voice quiet enough so May couldn’t hear.
“I’m not looking at you any type of way,” Happy defended, “I just don’t think Tony would want me to-”
“Is he doing bad?” Peter interrogated. “How bad?”
Happy looked a little miffed at being interrupted. “Tony…will figure himself out.”
Peter leaned back and resisted the urge to grab Happy by his collar and shake him until he got answers.
“Okay!” May emerged from her room. “So, you remember my coworker, Nancy, right?”
“Vaguely,” Peter answered, turning away from Happy.
“Well, she got a new dog.” May showed him a photo. “Isn’t that the cutest dog you’ve ever seen?”
“It’s…certainly a dog.” That earned him a wack on the shoulder. “What?!”
“It’s a cute dog.”
“Sure, just maybe not the cutest,” Peter defended.
May rolled her eyes before turning to Happy. He tuned out what they were talking about.
Tony wasn't doing well. Peter felt partly relieved but mostly guilty. Relieved that he wasn't the only one suffering, and guilty for being the reason Tony was and double-guilty for being relieved.
It was a mess.
“I'm gonna go check on the stew,” Peter called over his shoulder.
“This is never going to get cleaned,” Peter complained, covering his eyes with his hands so he couldn't see the mess his room had become.
“Sure, it will,” Uncle Ben said, his hand squeezed his shoulder, “you just have to do it.”
Peter removed his hands to shoot him a dirty look. “Obviously. How? I don't even know where to start!”
“Start with a little thing or a big thing, depending on how you view it. You could start with the trash or maybe the laundry.”
“I could do the laundry while I clean,” Peter guessed.
Ben pulled him into a side hug. “You've gotta face it, Pete, head-on. Ignoring and avoiding is what got you into this mess. Literally.” Ben laughed at his own joke.
Peter sighed.
“You've got this, Peter. Besides, we're here if you need help, okay?”
“I've just gotta face it head-on,” Peter muttered into the stew. “No more space, no more avoiding.”
“Is it ready?” May called from the couch.
“I think so.” Peter stirred the stew. “Want me to grab you a bowl?”
“Please!”
“Happy?” Peter asked as he prepared to grab a third bowl.
“I've got it,” Happy said as he began to push himself up.
“No, I've got it. Aunt May, make him sit down again.”
“You heard my kid, sit.” Aunt May pulled him down to whisper: “This is how he shows he cares.”
When Peter handed him his bowl, “I don't know what she said, but it's probably true. Now, press play.”
At May’s pointed look: “Press play, please.”
“That's better.”