And Then There Is You

“Dad! Dad! I’m over here! Dad!” Peter screams at the top of his lungs. 

He feels like he’s being buried alive, maybe he is, or maybe that alien that is attacking New York again is going to kill him. Maybe both? Peter doesn’t know. All he knows is that he can’t breathe, his chest feels heavy and he wants his dad to make everything better. 

Peter tries to roll onto his stomach but he feels paralyzed. He can’t move. 

He lifts his head up and looks down, trying to see what he was stuck underneath but he can’t see anything. 

I’m going to die here, Peter thinks. He screams, trying to roll onto his stomach and he finally manages to do that. He rolls over again, lifting some sort of concrete off his chest. How did that get there? 

“Dad! Dad. Help me. Help. I’m… I'm stuck.” He starts panicking even more, finding it more difficult to breathe. Peter looks up at the dim light coming through the window. Window? What, he’s in some sort of parking garage, why is there a house window. 

“Dad. Dad. Dad. Help me.” 

Peter whimpers, trying to roll away. He looks up and sees the monster walking back towards him and Peter let out a gut wrenching scream, curdling his lungs and leaves him gasping for air after. 

“Oh Peter. You can hide and you can run. But I will find you. It’s only a matter of time.” 

Peter crawls under a thrown over car, trying to make himself as small as possible. 

“Leave me alone. No.” 

“Peter. Peter.” 

“Noooo! Go away!” 

“Peter. Wake up!” 

Peter freezes. He can hear his dads voice, he leans over, peeking his head out from around the tire but he can’t see him. He cries harder. “Dad. Help me. I’m scared. It’s coming.” 

“Wake up for me, buddy. Wake up. Wake up.” 

Huh. Peter looks down at his hands. He’s… sleeping? No. He’s awake. He’s awake and he just watched all the Avengers get torn apart by the alien monsters and now he’s next and he can’t find his dad and he’s so scared and-

“Peter! Wake up, buddy. C’mon. It’s just a dream.” 

Peter feels someone shaking him and suddenly he can’t see the monster anymore. He tries his best to focus on the voice of his father. 

“Peter. Baby. Wake up.” 

Peter gasps awake. 

The first thing he notices is Tony sitting down in front of him. Then he notices that there’s a wetness on his face. Am I bleeding? He reaches up to wipe at his cheeks but it’s only water. I'm crying? It’s then that Peter realizes the dream that he just had, no nightmare. 

He lets out a pitiful sob and reaches for Tony. “Daddy.” 

Tony’s heart wrenching at the name he’s been called. He freezes for a few moments then gathers Peter into his arms. Peter’s never called him daddy before. Mr. Stark, yep, Tony, dad, father, as a joke, but never daddy. Tony likes it. 

“Shh, I’m here. Daddy’s here. Everything’s okay now. I’ve got you.” 

He lifts Peter onto his lap, holding him close and rocking him side to side. He can feel the boy's pull-up is full but he doesn’t worry about that right now. He simply just holds his kid, wishing he would stop having these nightmares. 

He sits there, holding Peter and rocking him side to side in his arms as Peter’s cries eventually turn into quiet hiccuping and then eventually tamper off. They both stay there for a few more minutes, not saying anything until eventually Peter pulls away, looking down at his lap. 

“Are you okay?” Tony asks then immediately wants to punch himself. Of course the kid isn’t okay, he just had a nightmare for goodness sake. 

Peter sniffles. “I-I… my dream was really scary.” 

“Do you want to talk about it?” 

Peter rubs his eyes. “I-I don’t remember now.” Which is true. The memories seem really fuzzy. Like he can picture what happened but not clear enough that he’d be able to describe it. 

“Okay. That’s okay. You’re safe now. I’ve got you.” Tony pulls him back into his arms and kisses his sweaty curls then pulls away. “Think you can fall back asleep?” Tony glances at the clock. It’s only around 3:45am but that’s still too early to be up. 

Peter rubs his eyes. “What-what time is it?” 

“Just after midnight.” Tony lies. He knows if Peter knows it’s almost 4am, his kid will try to stay awake for the rest of the day. Tony just wants him to sleep. 

Peter let’s out a yawn. “I think so.” 

“Okay. I’m going to change your pull-up because it’s full.” He easily says as he separates from Peter and grabs a new pull-up and wipes from the floor then he moves to turn on the lamp, causing both boys to squint at the light. 

Peter groans at the light, trying to cover his eyes. “Too bright.” 

“Sorry. I’ll turn it off soon. I just need to see.” Tony pats his thigh. “Can you lie down?” 

Peter doesn’t have to be asked twice. His body still feels so tired. He lays back down and his ankles get grabbed and dragged until he’s lying by the edge of the bed. He gasps at the sudden movement. 

“Sorry. Sometimes I forget how light you are. I’ll be done quickly and then we can go back to sleep.” 

Tony finishes up quickly as promised but Peter does not go back to sleep. Tony can see that he’s exhausted but he’s fighting sleep so hard that it’s making him cry in exhaustion and frustration. 

Tony’s used to the sleepless nights even before Peter came into his life so he’s not too turned off on the idea of having to wake up now but he doesn’t want to let Peter out of bed before the sun is even up. 

“Shh shh. Just lie down.” He pushes Peter onto his face, a bit more roughly than he intended to, causing Peter to sit up with a cry and push his arm away. “Sorry. Just lie down.” 

“No. I’m not tired.” He grabs his pillow and pushes it off the bed then looks at Tony. “I’m not tired.” 

“You already said that.” Tony calmly says, lying on his side, holding his head up with his arm. “How about-” 

“No!” 

Tony sighs. “Peter. Take a breath. I didn’t even say anything.” 

“But-but you were gonna tell me to go back to sleep and I’m not tired.” 

“Well clearly you are tired.” 

“I’m not!” 

There’s a light knock on the bedroom door before it’s pushed open. Tony’s mother walks in, followed by two cats who stop and run back out once Peter’s loud crying fills the room. 

“Sorry to wake you, mom. Go back to sleep.” Tony says, sitting up in bed. He can feel a slight headache coming on. He takes the blanket out of Peter’s hands when he starts pulling at it but it doesn’t budge so he realizes that Peter is using his spider powers. He gives him a look. “Let. Go.” 

Peter immediately let’s go and falls onto his back, crying out. 

“I’m a light sleeper. I’m usually awake in an hour or so anyways.” She sits on the bed, reaching out to pat her grandson’s stomach. “What’s wrong, ragazzino?” (Baby boy) 

Peter shakes his head, mumbling something incoherent to her. “What did he say?” Maria asks Tony, hand still rubbing Peter’s bare stomach. 

“He said he’s upset and doesn’t need to go back to sleep.” He tells her, yawning and running a hand through his bed head. Peter lifts his legs up so Tony uses that position to pat his bum. “You’re tired. You’ll feel better if you sl-” 

“Not sleep.” He cries. “I already told you.” 

“Posso prenderlo. Puoi restare qui e dormire ancora un po'. Sembri già esausto e non sta bene sul tuo bel viso.” (I can take him. You can stay here and sleep some more. You already look exhausted and it doesn't look good on your handsome face) 

Tony smiles despite the words his mom implied. Although she is right, the bags under his eyes have been looking darker recently. 

“Sicuro. Sì. Um... per favore, allora non distogliere lo sguardo da lui. Probabilmente non tornerà a dormire. Ma ecco la sua coperta se lo fa. E vieni a prendermi se hai bisogno di me.” (Sure. Yeah. Um... please don't take your eyes off him then. He probably won't go back to sleep. But here's his blankie if he does. And come get me if you need me) 

Tony grabs Peter’s childhood Blankie and hands it to his mom but Peter snatches it, immediately putting it underneath his nose to sniff. 

“Peter, go with grandma. If you don’t want to go back to sleep, you can hang out with her.” 

Peter sits up, sitting up on his knees. “You’ll stay?” 

“Yeah. I’m still tired so I’m going to go back to bed.” 

Peter looks like he’s going to hesitate so Tony nods at his mom to take him. 

“Come on, honey. We can go watch the sunset.” She holds her hand out for Peter, smiling at him when he takes it. 

“Pete, how about you put on some pyjamas?” Tony suggests but Peter keeps walking out. 

“He’s fine like this. The suns not even out yet and it’s already so hot.” Maria blows Tony a kiss and shuts the door, leading Peter down the stairs. “Usually I don’t like eating so early in the morning. But are you hungry?” 

“I want warm milk.” 

“I can make that for you.” She holds his hand all the way down the stairs and only lets go when they reach the kitchen. 

“It’s still dark out.” Peter points out, turning on the kitchen light. “We’re up before the sun even.” 

“Yes we are. I normally don’t get up this early but it’s nice to have some company.” She pulls the milk jar out from the fridge and grabs one of his water bottles off the counter. 

Peter waits until she isn’t looking then he climbs up onto the kitchen island, using his Spidey grip to get on top. “I usually wake up with my dad.” 

“I know, honey. Do you wake up at the same time as him at home in New York?” 

Peter watches her put a bowl of water in the microwave. “Um… no. Only sometimes cause he usually has to wake up for work. So I stay at home but usually he doesn’t go to work anymore and usually stays in the penthouse lately and we just watch some tv.” 

Maria nods. “Ohh.” She doesn’t understand what he’s trying to say but doesn’t ask him to clarify, knowing she’ll be even more confused if she tries. “That’s very interesting. Would you like to go sit outside? The sunset is very beautiful to watch from the beach. I try to get up at least once a week to see it.” 

Peter nods and hops down off the counter, taking his water bottle of milk from his grandma. “Thanks. Are we going to go to the swing bed on the beach?” 

“That’s right, you slept out there the first night here, didn’t you?” 

Peter nods, taking a sip of his milk. 

“Before we go outside, would you like to take your pull-up off? Since you’re awake, I’m thinking you don’t need it.” Maria tries but Peter doesn’t look like he wants that. 

He looks down at himself then shakes his head. “I do. My dad says I can.” He insists, turning to start walking towards the back door then gasps when he sees two cats waiting by it. “Grandma! They were outside all night.” 

“That’s okay. It’s warm and I leave food and water out there for them. Some live outside.” 

Peter let’s them in anyways, managing to reach down and let one as it walks by. “Why don’t you let them in? Cause they’ll poo?” 

Maria laughs at what her grandson said. “No, honey. They choose not to come in. No particular reason.” She closes the door behind them quietly and holds a finger up to her mouth to hush the loud boy. “Look,” She points to an open window. “your dad’s asleep up there. So we have to be quiet.” 

Peter gasps. “Okay. I’ll whisper.” He makes a point to say quietly and heads down towards the path, jumping along the stones, all the way to the beach. “Is it this way?” He turns to ask, stopping before jumping onto the sand. 

“Yes, just straight ahead. You don’t have to whisper now, honey.” 

Peter stops. “I have really good hearing. I can even hear all the way at the house if I try hard enough.” 

Maria doesn’t believe him, because why would she? “That would be pretty cool if you could.” 

Peter runs over to the bed swing and climbs onto it. He remembers sleeping there the first night with Tony and he suddenly feels a longing for the man. “But I actually can. My dad says when I’m old enough I can be a superhero just like him.” 

Maria still doesn’t believe the boy. She already knows he has a hyperactive imagination. “I don’t like the idea of you being a superhero. It’s dangerous.” 

“Yeah… but my dad is.” Peter shrugs. It sucks whenever Tony gets called out on a mission then the fear of being left alone mixed with the unknown of when his dad will return, terrifies Peter. He lays down, putting the silicone straw of his water bottle in his mouth. “Sometimes I hate it.” 

“Me too, honey. I wish he wasn’t Iron Man sometimes. But it’s who he is.” Maria lays down beside him, moving to pat his lower back. “You should tell him how you feel. If he’ll stop for anyone, he’ll stop for you.” 

Peter shrugs. “Yeah… I have. But… I don’t think he wants to stop.” Peter feels the same way about Spider-Man. He looks over at his grandma, suddenly feeling really guilty for not telling her. 

He knows he isn’t allowed to but his grandma already has to deal with her son being Iron Man so the worst thing he could do is keep this secret from her, right? 

He sits up. “Grandma?” 

“Yes, honey?” 

Peter risks a glance at her then looks back down at his water bottle. “Um…” Should he tell her? His dad might hate him for it, but he just feels so guilty so surely Tony would understand. 

Maria senses his hesitation. “What is it?” 

Peter fidgets more. “I… I,” He takes a breath. He sighs. “I hate that he’s Iron Man too.” He settles on saying. He feels so bad but he also doesn’t want Tony’s mom to freak out and potentially hate him for it. 

She reaches out to touch his leg. Although it is the truth, it wasn’t what Peter had wanted to say. 

“I know, my sweet boy. I know. But you’re so so strong. And you’ll always have your granola and I in your corner.” 

Peter smiles at the promise and feels something swell inside his stomach. It feels good to know he has people who care about him. He scoots closer to wrap his arms around her neck. “Thank you. And you’ll always have me too. Because we’re family now.” 

“And I’m so glad we are. I love you so much.” She kisses his cheek. “I’ve wanted a grandson for so long. You have no idea.” 

“As long as I’ve been alive?” 

“Hmm. Pretty much. I wish I knew you as a baby. You were so cute.” She coos, pinching his cheeks. 

Peter giggles. “How do you even know?” 

“Your dad sent us pictures. Who do you think is on the wall in our house, silly boy.” 

Peter laughs harder. He didn’t even notice. “Oh. That’s funny. I was a fat baby. I had rolls on my legs.” 

“I know. Too bad I didn’t know you then or I might just have to eat you up.” She teases, poking Peter in the side to get giggles out of him. 

“That’s what dad says.” Peter tells her, laughing harder as he rolls onto his side and let’s out a content sigh. “I wish we had a beach near the tower back home. It would be so cool to go swimming every day after school.” 

Maria hums, something his father does quite often. Peter briefly wonders if that’s where he gets it from. Probably, he concludes. 

“Even if you did, the water would be so cold, you wouldn’t even be able to swim in it.” 

“Unless I wear a wetsuit.” Peter adds. 

“You’d still be cold, honey.” She caresses his soft baby cheeks, smiling down at him. “But if you lived here, you could go swimming any day and any time you wanted. Wouldn’t that he fun?” 

Peter thinks about it. “Live here? With you and grandpa?” 

“Yes. Or you could get a house with your father down the street. And I could take care of you while your dad works. No more random people watching over you.” 

Peter sits up on his knees. “The Avengers aren’t random people, grandma. They’re friends. And so is Pepper. Something dad has sleepovers with her.” He looks down. “But I’m not allowed joining them.” 

Maria gives a little laugh. “Oh, honey.” She can’t wait to tell her son what Peter just said, if only the poor boy knew why… then she thinks back to what Peter said about the Avengers. “I’m okay with Pepper looking after you. I trust her. But you shouldn’t be around the Avengers. You’re just too young and impressionable.” 

Peter tilts his head, confused. “I’m not. They’re nice. And funny! Steve’s a good cook too.” 

“He may be. But that still doesn’t mean he’s capable of looking after a child, Peter. I just don’t like them. And I don’t like you hanging around them.” 

Peter moves away from her, sitting up on his knees. “They teach me how to fight. Want to see what I’ve learned?” 

Maria sits up too, watching him closely. “Maybe wait until your father wakes up, alright?” 

Peter collapses onto the bed swing “but I want to.” 

“Good morning.” 

Peter sits up, looking towards his grandfather. He feels shy for some reason. “Hi.” 

“Hello, Peter. You’re up early.” 

Peter nods. “Yeah. I wasn’t tired.” He looks down at his thighs, acting like they’re the most interesting thing in the world. He hates how shy he feels around his grandpa. He thinks of something that might impress him and perks up. “Want me to show you some wrestling moves I’ve learnt from Steve?” 

Howard doesn’t seem impressed. “Steve Rogers?” 

Peter nods, proudly. “He’s taught me some things. Like self defense.” 

“Did your father tell you that I knew Steve before he went into the ice? Before he became Captain America?” 

Peter thinks back to what he’s learnt in school before Tony even became his father. Then he had asked Tony some questions about it but didn’t really get any clear answers. He shrugs at the question. “I know you helped make him Captain America.” 

“Do you want to know the full story?” 

Peter nods, moving closer and a bit curious. 

“Alright. I’ll tell you everything you want to know at breakfast. How about you go out on some clothes first.” He says, gesturing down to Peter’s lack of clothing. 

“Oh. It’s hot.” He gets up anyways, looking at his grandma and silently begging her to come with them inside so he doesn’t have to be alone with Howard for too long. It isn’t that Peter doesn’t like him, he’s his fathers father, so of course Peter likes him. But he’s just a bit scared of him and feels like he has to work to gain his respect. 

“I’ll come with you to change, honey. Then we’ll eat something.” Maria stands up, takes his hand and the three of them walk up to the house and go inside. Howard heads into the kitchen and Maria takes Peter upstairs, letting go of his hand as soon as they reach the bedroom door that Tony’s sleeping in. 

“Go in quietly and get some clothes then come back out.” She whispers so Peter makes an effort to go on his tip toes and push open the bedroom door. 

He glances towards the bed, seeing his dads body riding and falling as he breathes steadily, obviously still deep in sleep. 

Peter bends down to grab some underwear and shorts from the ground then quietly goes into the bathroom and grabs the wipes before going back into the hallway and handing the items to his grandma. “I didn’t wake him up.” 

“That’s good. He needs to sleep.” 

Peter nods sadly, feeling a bit guilty since it’s his fault Tony never sleeps. “Yeah.” He sighs, following Maria into her bedroom. “He usually stays up with me. When-when I get nightmares and stuff.” 

“I know, honey.” 

“He doesn’t sleep a lot. It’s my fault.” 

Maria stops and leans down to caress the boys cheeks, her face serious. “No. Don’t say that. It’s not your fault. I know your father would choose you over sleep any time. And he’s happy to be there for you. Don’t blame yourself, ragazzino.” (Baby boy) 

Peter nods, still not necessarily believing what he’s heading. 

“Plus, I’ll tell you a little secret, your dad was never a good sleeper. Even when he was a baby.” She pinches his cheek, making him giggle then she pulls him into the washroom and sits on a pink stool. Peter stands in front of her. 

“What was he like when he was a baby?” 

He asks, wishing he could ask someone what he was like as a baby. Unfortunately everyone who knew him as a baby is dead… 

“Well, he was very cute. He loved sitting in his bouncer and watching everything with such curious eyes.” Maria opens the package of wipes, pulling Peter closer. “You know, you kind of have his eyes.” 

Peter smiles brightly despite that being impossible. “But… he isn’t actually my real dad. Just my dad through love.” 

Maria seems to consider what Peter said and smiles. It’s a cute way to look at it. She grabs the side of Peter’s pull-up and untaps it, folding it up and throwing it in the garbage. Peter flinches when the cold wipe touches his sensitive skin. “He’s your dad in every single way that matters, Peter. And he loves you very much. We all do. Especially me.” She brings Peter closer to kiss his cheek, making him giggle and turn away. 

“That tickles.” He tells her then moves away a bit, looking for his underwear. “When we go home, will you come to visit us there?” 

Grabbing the underwear and shorts from the floor, Maria hands it to Peter as she carefully considers his question. Something she’s been thinking about for the past week. 

It isn’t that she doesn’t want to see her grandson and son, she just doesn’t want to go back to New York. A lot of old bad memories are there, and Maria doesn’t know if she wants to go back to re live it. 

But one look at Peter makes her throw every single fear away. 

Peter isn’t getting any younger. 

And she’s already missed out on so much, the thought of missing out on any more is scary. 

So she pulls Peter into a hug once he puts his underwear on. “Do you want me to?” 

Peter doesn’t hesitate to nod. “Uh huh.” 

“Then I think we better book a trip down there to see you. You can show me your bedroom, your school, maybe I can meet your friends.” She tells him as she brushes the curls out of his eyes. She’s told Tony that the boy needs a haircut but Tony’s too in love with his curls. 

Peter grins and soaks in the attention and comfort, trying to get used to the feeling of being loved by a grandma, something he’s never experienced before. 

“What are you two up to?” 

Peter jerks his head to the bedroom door and sees his dad standing there, dressed in his clothes for the day and his hair messily brushed back. He gets out of his grandma’s arms and runs over to Tony, jumping onto the man. “Dad!” 

“Woah! Hi, buddy. Happy to see me?” Tony teases, hoisting him up higher in his arms. Peter just wraps his legs around him. 

“You slept in so late.” 

“I did, didn’t I?” Tony takes a moment to kiss his son's cheek and then goes over to his mom, leaning over to kiss her on the cheek when she stands up. He can see the used pull-up on the floor so he’s grateful for his mom doing that for him, despite Peter being fully capable of doing it himself. “Thanks, ma, sai che può cambiare se stesso. Gli piace solo l'attenzione.” (you know he can change himself. He just likes the attention) He grins, looking down at Peter. 

“l'attenzione.” Peter repeats, almost perfectly. 

“Woah, bubs, look at that. You’re almost fluent.” Tony coos then sets his boy on his feet, not being able to resist the hair ruffle that Peter’s too slow to duck away from. 

“Lascia che lo tratti come un bambino ancora per un po' finché me lo permette ancora.” (Let me treat him like a baby for a little bit longer while he still lets me.” 

Tony shakes his head fondly. “He’s my baby. But he’s not a baby.” He says as he grabs Peter’s arm when he tries to run away from him. “Put these on.” He says, handing him his shorts. 

“How can you look at that innocent face and say otherwise.” Maria argues. 

“He’s not innocent. You know he destroyed my tablet by bring it in the bath with him to watch Minecraft videos.” 

Peter swings on his leg, trying his best to look innocent even as his cheeks turn red. “Noo. I am innocent. I can do no wrong.” He snaps his head at Tony’s mother. “Right, grandma?” 

“Of course, my sweet boy. You’re perfect.” 

Peter went to let go of Tony but he gets scooped up and placed on his dads hip where he’s too slow to dodge a bunch of kisses being pressed onto his face. “Ahhhh! Grandma, help me!”

“No. No grandma coming to help you. You’re mine.” Tony flips him upside down and walks out of the bedroom, heading downstairs with him. “Off we go.” 

He carries Peter upside down, down the stairs then places the giggling child on the couch, opposite from his father. Peter immediately sits up, used to being upside down and not feeling lightheaded in the slightest. “Again!” 

“No. Not again. Entertain yourself now while I go get a coffee.” 

Peter jumps up to grab onto his arm. “Dad. Stay.” 

“No. Dad needs coffee. Talk to grandpa.” Tony pulls his hand away from Peter’s and disappears into the kitchen where his mom is stirring something in a bowl. “Peter’s going to annoy dad for a few minutes so I can get a much needed coffee.” 

Maria shakes her head. “Coffee isn’t healthy. Why not try tea?” 

“You sound exactly like Pepper.” He laughs as he waits for his hot coffee to brew. 

Inside the living room, Peter looks towards his grandpa, trying his hardest to figure him out. He’s reading a newspaper and seems interested in it but Peter wants the man’s attention. 

He crawls across the couch and leans against the arm rest, peeking at the newspaper. He sighs. It’s in Italian. “I didn’t know they even still made newspapers anymore.” 

Howard chuckles. “They still do. At least here. Can’t say the same thing for Manhattan. City goers.” 

“My Aunt used to cut out the comics for me in them when I was littler.” Peter says, finding it surprising that he doesn’t feel sad anymore when he talks about his dead aunt. Wow. Maybe therapy is helping. And Tony definitely plays a huge part in that. 

“Yeah? Do you remember any funny ones?” 

Peter shakes his head. “No.” 

“Too bad. The comics are pretty funny sometimes.” Howard says. 

“I guess. But most of the time they’re so cheesy.” 

Howard snorts and Peter smiles at the fact that he made his grandpa laugh. 

He just wants to impress the man but he doesn’t really know how to do that. He doesn’t know Italian and he knows that’ll make him happy… but unfortunately Peter can’t learn that overnight. 

“I-I have the option to take Spanish or Italian next year. I’m gonna choose Italian!” Peter grins, watching the man’s face carefully. “Then next year, I can talk to you in Italian.” 

“Good boy. But if you start learning now, or get your father to talk to you in Italian at home, it’ll take less than a year.” He says, making Peter’s smile drop. 

“Oh. Yeah.” 

“Your father is fluent. He can teach you.” 

Peter nods. “I guess.” He sits back down on his bum and watches Howard go back to reading the newspaper. They sit there in silence for a few minutes as Peter desperately tries to think about what to say or do next. 

Then an idea pops into his head. 

He listens in, hearing his dad and grandma talking about something in the kitchen. Good. So they’re still in there. He grins and stands up in front of Howard. “If I tell you something, can you keep a secret?” 

Howard puts down his newspaper, eyeing Peter suspiciously. “Depends… does your father need to know about this?” 

Peter shifts from foot to foot. 

He shrugs. “Yeah… of course.” 

“Then why can’t I tell anyone?” 

“Because,” Peter sighs. “Only like, a few people know. Less than ten! So you have to keep it a secret. Promise?” 

Howard folds up his newspaper and sits up a bit, intrigued. “I promise. Tell me.” 

Peter looks over his shoulder then steps closer to Howard. 

He lets out a sigh. 

Here goes nothing. 

“I’m… I’m Spider-Man.” He whispers. 

“What?” 

Peter says it a little louder. “I’m Spider-Man.” 

Howard sits back, clearly not believing him. “Okay. That’s cute.” 

Peter crosses his arms over his chest. “It’s true! How else do you think dad met me? He just found me on the streets or something? No. It’s cause I’m Spider-Man. A superhero. Just like him. And the Avengers.” 

Howard seems a bit more interested in him now and Peter’s loving the attention, not knowing what it’ll lead to. 

“Alright then. If you are Spider-Man, prove it.” He’s aware of the nightmares Peter has and knows it’s his active imagination that’s causing this behavior but he’ll humor the boy. 

Peter sets his face into a grin and then he walks over to a hall and looks over his shoulder, double checking that his dad isn’t there before he begins to scale the wall, crawling up it without a problem. 

When he gets to the top, he looks down at his grandpa who is standing up, his mouth open, eyes on Peter as if he can’t believe what he’s actually seeing is the truth. 

“I told you!” 

Peter scales up to the ceiling and crawls to the middle of it, looking down at his grandpa. “What? I told you I was Spider-Man, grandpa. Isn’t that so cool?” 

Howard backs away. “Maria! Vieni qui adesso!” (Come in here right now!) 

Maria walks into the living room a few seconds later and it takes her a moment before her eyes go up and spot Peter on the ceiling. She gasps, dropping the bowl she was holding. “Oh mio dio oh mio dio! Peter! NO! Cosa sta succedendo?” (Oh my god oh my god! Peter! No! What's happening) 

Tony races into the living room, following his parents' eyes up to the ceiling. He gasps, not because it’s a surprise to see Peter on the ceiling, but because Peter is on the ceiling! After Tony had told him that’s the one thing he can’t do. 

Now the cats out of the bag and all hell is about to break loose. 

Tony feels his heart speed up. “Peter Benjamin Stark! Get down here right now!” 

Maria grabs onto Tony’s arm, looking near fainting. “Antonio, how-why… what’s wrong with him?!” 

Tony takes his mothers hands off of him so he can walk over to Peter climbing down the wall. “Mom. He’s fine. Just… let me explain, ma. Non impazzire. Tutto bene.” (Don't freak out. Everything is okay) 

Tony tries to calm her down but it definitely doesn’t seem to work. 

Peter jumps off the wall and walks over to Tony but Maria grabs him, holding his wrists up to her face. 

“Tony. He said he’s Spider-Man. You better start explaining. He was on the ceiling! He climbed up there!” Howard yells, grabbing Peter himself to examine the boy's hands. “Come lo hai fatto?!” (How did you do it?) 

Peter whimpers and pulls his hands away, backing up. 

He’s starting to realize that this might have been a mistake.  

Tony steps in between his parents and his son. “Mom. Dad. Just… sit down. Alright. Spiegherò tutto. Dammi solo qualche minuto.” (I'll explain everything. Just give me a few minutes) 

“Antonio. I swear, if that boy is Spider-Man.” His mom yells and Tony resists the urge to shiver. Yep. His assumptions were correct. His parents are going to try and take Peter from him. 

He quickly debates just taking Peter and leaving but knows he owes his parents an explanation. 

So, instead, he grabs Peter’s arm and drags him towards the stairs. 

“Dad. Dad? Are you mad at me? I’m sorry. I’m sorry, okay? I just-” 

Tony let’s go of his arm once they’re upstairs in their bedroom. “You just what? This was the one thing I told you not to tell them. Why, Peter? Do you have any idea how much drama and chaos this is going to cause?” 

Peter shrinks in on himself as he backs away from Tony. 

Tony can see his bottom lip quivering but he doesn’t comfort him. Not this time. Peter messed up. 

“Dad. I’m sorry. I-I-I just wanted grandpa to like me.” 

And that breaks Tony’s heart. 

The anger he feels directed at his father is picked up by Peter, who thinks it’s directed at him and he quickly runs to Tony, grabbing onto his hands. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry. I-I should’ve… I shouldn’t have done it! I’m so sorry.” 

Tony quickly reassures him though. He takes Peter’s hands in his and squeezes them. “Peter. I’m not angry with you.” He sighs. “I am a little disappointed. Because you broke my trust. But… I’m more concerned about having to now talk to grandma and grandpa. Alright? So just… I need you to stay here and let me talk to them.” 

Peter doesn’t let him go. “I can help, dad. Don’t be mad at me! I’m sorry. I just…” He looks down in thought but Tony doesn’t let him finish it. 

“Just stay here. I’ll handle it.” He pauses. “Promise me you’ll stay here.” 

Peter looks away as he wipes a tear off his cheek. “Promise.” He chokes out. 

Tony hesitates before he leaves the room. 

Time for damage control.