Where Have You Been?
“You,” Tony said, eyes coming up to the boy that had been with his son, nudging him towards his father. “What’s your name?”
“Ned Leeds.”
“You Peter’s friend?”
The boy gave a nod. He looked shocked and like he might cry at any moment himself.
“Call the police.”
“NO!” Peter pulled away, but was unable to get out of his father’s arms. “No police, no, no, not the police, please, we can’t, we can’t do that!”
“Peter, I don’t know where you’ve been, but someone took you. You’re still listed as a missing person. I can’t just walk off of school grounds with you or the school will think I’m kidnapping you.”
“We can’t call the police,” Peter begged. “They’ll, they’ll, the police are bad. Please!”
Tony frowned down at him. His son’s eyes were wide with fear, still shining with wetness from where he’d been crying just moments before.
Tony looked up at Ned for help and Ned said, “He’s been telling people for years that he was kidnapped. The police got called a couple times and they didn’t believe him.”
“They’ll believe me,” Tony said, looking back at his son, but Peter was shaking his head vigorously.
“No, please no, no. I’ll get- I’ll be in- I’ll be in so much trouble! Please don’t.”
Tony sighed and said, “The FBI then. You have a problem with them?”
Peter shook his head and quieted down some, burying his face back in Tony’s shirt. Tony had yet to loosen his grip on him.
“Can you look up the number for the FBI?” Tony asked Ned. “Or go get the principal and have him call.” Tony could do it, but there was no way he was letting go of Peter, and he wasn’t quite ready to carry his son through the halls right at the moment. He could hear that the halls had cleared out as students had made their way to class, but right now the darkened auditorium felt like some sort of safe haven here in this unfamiliar building.
Ned didn’t need to be asked twice, and was already fumbling with his phone, tapping out a search online and then dialing a number. “Hello? Yeah, uh, I was told to call you. There’s uh-”
“Ask for agent Nielson,” Tony directed.
“I need agent Nielson. Right, yeah, missing children.”
Ned was silent for long moments before he put his phone on speaker and held it out to Tony so he could hear.
“Agent Nielson, who is this?”
“This is Tony Stark.”
There was a heavy sigh on the other end of the line, and Tony knew it was because the man had no good news to give to him. “Mr. Stark. We don’t have any new news for you at this time. We’re still tracking down a dozen leads. New tips come in every week.”
“I’ve got him,” Tony said, and at that Peter tried to press himself even closer to him. Tony squeezed him firmly for a moment and then relaxed his grip a little again.
“You’ve got who?” Nielson asked.
“Fred, I’ve got him. I’ve got Peter. He’s in my arms.”
“He’s- what do you mean he’s in your arms? How? Where are you?”
“Yeah, I’m gonna need some agents at Midtown School Of Science And Technology in New York City. I’m in the auditorium, and I’d like to walk out of the school with my kid without the office calling the police on me.”
They could hear Neilson shouting something at someone in the background, though his hand was over the mouthpiece of the phone, and then he came back on the line. “Mr. Stark are you sure?”
“Positive.”
“Agents are on their way. Ten minutes tops, sit tight.”
“I’ll be right here.”
The agent hung up and so did Ned. Tony tried to shift Peter away from him for a moment so he could get off of his aching knees from where he’d been kneeling and sit on his rear end, but Peter wasn’t having any of it. Instead Tony let himself fall backwards a bit until he was sitting, and Peter climbed up onto his lap. He wasn’t going to complain about having his son in his arms again.
Tony had a million questions he wanted to ask. Where had Peter been? Who had him? Was he still in danger? Why had he flinched back from him before? What had made him think his mother and father wouldn’t want him anymore? What was he doing in high school as a 12 year old? They were questions he’d get answers to, but not right now. His mind flickered back to an old conversation he’d had with Pepper. She thought that Peter hadn’t followed in Tony’s footsteps as his soulmate, but that Tony had experienced things in his life he’d need to in order to help Peter when they found him again. Tony had been kidnapped… tortured. Peter had been kidnapped. When Tony had been rescued and had gotten off the plane to find Pepper and Happy waiting for him, he’d been wary and scared that they’d ask him questions, when really what he needed was a hug and for them to just be there with him. That’s what Peter needed now, he decided.
Instead of asking questions, Tony decided to provide answers to Peter instead. “We’ve been looking for you for a long time you know,” he said quietly, hand coming up to run through Peter’s hair. Peter flinched, but after Tony stilled, Peter relaxed into his touch. “Your mom and I… we never stopped looking. The agent we talked to on the phone has been on the case since you went missing.”
Peter didn’t answer, but Tony knew he was listening. “We never stopped loving you or wanting you home. We thought about you every day. Your mom-” Tony took a deep breath. Pepper was going to cry so hard when he told her… when he walked into the penthouse with their son. “-she still buys you clothes and keeps them at home for when you come home. Clothes and shoes, and toys.” He stroked Peter’s hair while he talked, and while Peter was still clutching his shirt, he had relaxed into him now, his grip no longer desperate like he’d be ripped away from his father at any moment.
Ned had moved to the open doorway of the auditorium to give them some space and was looking out and down the hall, probably waiting for the FBI to show up.
“I’m Peter, right?” Peter asked quietly. His voice was still shaky and uncertain.
“You’re Peter.”
“You’re sure? I’m not Ben?”
“Peter Edward Stark.”
Peter’s fingers reached up to rest on top of Tony’s shirt where the soul-mark was above his heart. “It’s- a reactor?”
“That’s right.”
“My uh… my, my- Miss Potts said- it’s a heart?”
Tony huffed a laugh. “Yeah, it’s a heart Petey Pie.” She’d told Peter a lot when he was younger that his heart was so big the universe had needed to ink a second one onto his chest. She’d said the same about Tony, but Tony had never believed her. He was selfish, and he knew she had to know that.
Peter stilled and Tony wondered if he’d said something wrong. “You ok?” he asked. It was a silly question, there was no way Peter was ok. Tony certainly wasn’t. He wanted to laugh and cry at the same time because his son was with him in his arms, and he wanted to yell and scream and rage at the person who had taken him away from him for four years. The warring emotions in his chest made him feel like he was going crazy. Maybe he already had gone crazy four years ago when Peter had disappeared.
“You called me Petey Pie.”
“Yeah. Is that ok?”
“I, I think, I think- you used to- I remember you- I remember that.”
Tony ran his hand through his son’s hair again and said gently, “Yeah, you’re my little Petey Pie, no matter how old you get. You’ll be old with gray hair and I’ll still call you that.”
Peter was working hard to still his mind, to stop it from spinning away in a dozen directions. Petey Pie, not Benny Boy. Peter, not Ben. Uncle Ben, or not Uncle Ben, had always called him Benny Boy, "because that’s what Richard called you," he’d told Peter. Peter had never remembered that. He thought he used to remember being called Petey Pie, but that had faded from his mind in four years, like a lot of things had. His dad calling him that had sparked a memory of being snuggled up in a bundle of blankets on a couch watching cartoons and being called by his dad for lunch. “Lunch is ready Petey Pie. You can finish your show after you eat.”
I know my name is Peter. Petey Pie. Not Ben. Not Benny Boy. And for the first time since Ned… for the first time in a long time, he wasn’t getting in trouble for just being Peter. He wasn’t being called a liar, or told he was confused, or scolded, or being punished. He was just allowed to be.
“Peter, uh, Mr. Stark I mean,” Ned said from the auditorium entrance, redirecting to Tony. “They’re coming down the hall.”
Peter gripped Tony’s shirt hard again and Tony gripped him hard in return. “It’s all right, I trust the FBI,” Tony said. A moment later three FBI agents came into the auditorium, Principal Morita trailing behind them and looking flustered. The principal shot Ned a questioning glance, and then his eyes fell on Tony and Peter on the floor.
“Mr. Stark?” the principal asked. “Would someone please tell me what’s going on here?” Clearly the FBI agents had collected him in the front office, but hadn’t told him what was happening.
“Biggs, you take the principal into the hall,” said a tall agent with broad shoulders. Then he pointed to Ned and asked, “Are you the one who called me?”
Ned nodded and the agent said, “Chrisholm, you take him into the hall and question him. I’ll talk to Mr. Stark.”
The other two agents took Ned and Mr. Morita into the hall and closed the auditorium door. A moment later and the other auditorium door was closed from the outside, giving them privacy.
“It’s been a while Mr. Stark,” the agent said. He looked surprised and uncertain.
“Fred,” Tony greeted. Tony felt Peter shift in his lap and he could feel anxiety in his chest. It had been so long since he’d been close to Peter that he forgot how strongly strong emotions could come across their bond when they were within half a mile of each other.
Fred Neilson rubbed his forehead hard, and then put both hands on his hips. “You’re sure?” he asked. “You’re sure this is him? We need to do a DNA test.”
“This is my kid, I’m positive. We have the marks.”
“The last time I saw your mark, it was burned.”
Tony looked down at Peter and said, “Hey Peter, I’m not going anywhere, but I need you to let go for a minute so I can show him our marks. You can still sit right here, I just need you to let go of my shirt for a-”
Peter only held on tighter in response, and Tony looked up at Fred, uncertain about what to do.
“It looks like I should be able to see your mark from here,” Neilson said. He leaned down, asked, “Can I lift your shirt?” received a nod from Tony, and then reached forward to move Tony’s half unbuttoned shirt aside a little. He sucked in a breath at the newly reformed mark, now sitting on unblemished skin.
“It happened when we hugged,” Tony said.
“I need to see his.”
“Peter, do you hear that? He just wants to see your mark. Can you show him?”
Peter pulled his face out of Tony’s chest and Fred raised his brows. The kid looked just like a younger Tony… just like the age progressed photos they had of him. He had the same brown eyes and wavy hair… the same shape jaw as Tony, and the same cheekbones as Pepper, though Peter’s were rounded and childish because he hadn’t lost his baby fat yet.
“Can you show him Pete?” Tony asked, “Just like you showed me.”
Peter reached up and pulled the collar of his shirt down, stretching it out again, and the agent nodded. He looked back up at Tony as Peter held on to him again, and asked, “How did this happen? How did you find him Mr. Stark?”
“He found me. I was here doing a presentation, and he came up to me afterwards. He knew who he was. His friend out in the hall… Ned? He said Peter has tried to tell the authorities that he was kidnapped before and no one believed him.”
Tony noted how Peter cringed at that, how he stiffened and fisted his hands into Tony’s shirt, twisting the fabric, and the fear that came across their bond for a moment, followed by anxiety.
“Based on the soul-marks, that’s enough for me to remove him legally from school premises. We can go down to the field office and ask some more questions, but I have one more question I need to ask before we leave. Peter?” He knelt down in front of Peter and Tony and Peter held his gaze. “Who do you live with right now? Are you in foster care or do you live with someone else?”
“May and Ben.”
“Do you know their address? Do you know where they are right now?”
Peter was quiet for long moments, and Tony ran his hand through Peter’s hair again. Peter leaned into the touch and seemed to relax a little.
“233 West 15th St, Apartment 5,” Peter said, voice small, like he didn’t want to talk to the agent at all. “Ben’s a police officer. May’s a nurse at a hospital.”
“Do you know what hospital?”
“Flushing.”
“And do you know what May and Ben’s last names are?”
“Parker.”
“All right, thank you Peter.” He looked at Tony, said, “See if you can get him up. We’ll drive you to the field office. I’m going to go call this information in.”
Nielson disappeared out into the hallway, the auditorium door banging shut behind him. “You hear that Pete?” Tony asked. “They’re going to take care of this. Ok? You’re safe now. We just need to answer some more questions and then we can go home. We can go home and see mom.”
“Does she- I mean-” Peter trailed away.
“What? Does she know? I haven’t been able to tell her yet. She’s going to be so excited to see you.”
“You… are you sure?”
“She’s going to burst into tears and hug you and not let go for the rest of the night, unless you don’t want her to hug you.”
“She didn’t- she didn’t give me away?”
“Never. We would never give you away. Is that-” Tony took a breath, trying to be careful. He didn’t want Peter to feel overwhelmed with questions. If he had a choice he’d take Peter home right there now that the FBI had confirmed that this was his son. “Is that what May and Ben told you?”
Peter curled into him. “They said my mom and dad didn’t- that you didn’t want me. Then a few days later they said they- they said that you- that you died in a plane crash.”
“I’m right here,” Tony said. He lifted Peter’s hand and put it over the spot on his chest with the soul-mark. “Not dead."
“Yeah. I knew when I saw you on TV a couple weeks ago. I just didn’t- I didn’t know how to get someone to believe me. I didn’t, I didn’t, I just didn’t expect to see you today.”
“Let’s get up and get out of here Pete, ok?”
Peter looked reluctant to move, but he let go of Tony’s shirt and then got off of him and got up. Tony’s back ached from sitting there on the slightly angled walkway of the auditorium. As soon as he was standing, Peter wrapped his arms around his side and buried his face in his side again. Tony hugged him and then quickly did up the four buttons at the top of his shirt, wrapped an arm around Peter again and walked him out of the auditorium.
“Peter,” Ned said when they got into the hallway, relief in his voice. Then his eyes flickered up to Tony.
Nielson motioned for Tony and Peter to follow him, and the three of them left Ned, Principal Morita, and the other two agents standing in the hall staring after them. Peter looked back for only a moment, making eye contact with Ned. His friend looked sad. So did Mr. Morita.
* * *
As they drove to the New York FBI field office, Tony said, “Can't we do this tomorrow? I want to get him home and get him something to eat.”
“We’ll make this as quick as possible. I need to get some basic information. Police are out picking up May and Ben Parker right now.”
Peter was buckled into the seat right next to Tony in the back of Nielson’s car. He stiffened and Tony took his hand and squeezed it. “You’re not going to see them,” Tony leaned down and said.
“That’s right,” Nielson said from the driver’s seat. “There will be no contact. We just need to know a few things from you Peter.” The ride was quiet after that. Tony held Peter’s hand as they walked into the FBI building, rode an elevator up to the 5th floor, and went into a little conference room. Two other agents: a man and a woman were already there setting up recording equipment. There was a camera set up in the corner aiming at the chairs Tony and Peter were asked to sit down in, and a voice recorder on the table in front of them. There was also a fresh legal pad and two ink pens sitting on the table. Agent Nielson sat down in front of the legal pad and pulled it over to himself. He scribbled down the date, time and some other information, and then looked up at Tony and Peter. The other two agents sat down beside Nielson and remained quiet.
“Peter,” Nielson said. “I’ve been working on your case for a long time trying to find you. Do you think you can answer some questions for me about where you’ve been and the things you remember?”
Peter nodded slowly, wondering how hard this was going to be to get his brain to cooperate. There was a feeling in his chest that wasn’t normally there though… he wasn’t sure what it was, but it was warm, and made him feel like he could tackle anything they threw at him if this was only going to last for a few minutes. His father squeezed his hand, still holding it from when they’d walked in, and Peter realized that the feeling in his chest didn’t belong to him at all, but to his father. Courage. He was being loaned some of his father’s courage and strength. How odd. Had it always been like this before he’d been taken? He couldn’t remember ever feeling someone else’s emotions before, but he thought he’d seen things like this on the TV in shows and movies about soul-bonds.
“Peter?”
His father squeezed his hand again. “Huh?”
“We’re recording this conversation so we can have the information later. Can you tell me again what address you’ve been living at?”
Peter repeated the address of their apartment in Queens, and then agent Neilson asked, “Can you tell me your full name?”
“Peter Richard Parker,” he said. A flash of anger hit Peter, and his eyes edged over to look at his father, who looked like he was fighting not to say something. Then it passed and Peter thought again about how strange it was to be feeling things his father felt. Did that mean his father felt what Peter was feeling? When Peter had been unable to breathe in the auditorium, when his chest had felt tight, his father had reached for his own chest on stage to rub it.
“Peter,” said agent Neilson, “is that the name they gave you?”
“They call me Ben. Benjamin Richard Parker. But I know my name is Peter.”
“It’s Peter Edward Stark,” Tony said, voice hard, and Peter looked up at him again in awe.
“Peter,” he said again, looking back at the agent. “Peter Stark. Peter Edward Stark.”
“So they tried to change your name?”
Peter nodded. “I got in trouble if I told people I was called Peter. No one believed me anyway except Ned.”
“How did you get in trouble?” Peter shrugged and looked down at the table.
“Ok, we can come back to that later,” the agent said, marking something down on the paper in front of him. “Peter, Ned told the other agents that you’ve tried to tell the police before that you were kidnapped. Can you tell me about that?”
“Uh, well I told my teacher in 6th grade and she believed me, and they called the police, but then Uncle Ben showed up, and he told them I was confused. He said, he said, he said my parents died in a plane crash and that I kept telling people I’d been kidnapped, because, because, because I’d never met him and aunt May before. They said my parents were Mary and Richard Parker, but I couldn’t, I just couldn’t, I couldn’t remember them at all. I kept telling aunt May that my mom’s hair was reddish and my dad had a beard, but they just got mad at me when I did.”
“What would May and Ben do when you told them about your real parents?”
Peter shrugged again, and the feeling of courage came to him, warming his chest. His father squeezed his hand again. Peter wanted to abandon his chair and climb into his father’s lap. He would if he thought he could get away with it. May and Ben weren’t cuddly. Sometimes they patted his head or shoulder, but it had been so long since Peter had been held or cuddled like his father had done in the auditorium. He wanted that warmth and security again.
“Peter?”
Peter looked up. Had they asked him something else again? “Huh?”
“Can you tell us what age you are?”
“14. No, uh, I don’t know.”
“Do you know what age you were when you were taken?”
“Eight. I was supposed to have a birthday and turn eight. I was excited because we were going to go to the zoo.”
“That’s right,” the agent said. “You were almost eight, and you’ve been missing for four years now Peter. That makes you 12 years old, not 14.”
Peter frowned. “I was with them for a year, and one day they said it was my birthday. I thought I was turning nine, but they said I was turning 11. They said I was confused. They always said I was confused. They gave me a bike and said only 11 year olds get bikes.”
“Did you argue with them about it?”
Peter shook his head. He had genuinely been confused then. He’d been confused by a lot of things, not just because they told him he was, but because he forgot things as time passed and his life was filled up with new things. They’d also told him that he could only have the bike if he was 11, and Peter had decided not to argue. He ended up riding that bike to school every day for nine months. Then they’d moved suddenly and he had to leave the bike behind.
“So they told you you were 11,” the agent said. “That would put you in the 6th grade. Did they move you up to the 6th grade?”
“Yeah. We moved a few days after my birthday. They went to put me in a new school and they said, they told me, they said I was smart and the school gave me a test and then I was in the 6th grade.”
“And now you’re in high school,” the agent said, “do you like being in high school? Do you understand the material?”
“Uh… well, I like Ned,” Peter said. “He’s my only friend,” Peter rushed to say. If they wanted to talk about Ned he could talk all day, and the words continued to tumble out of his mouth in a rush. “I’ve never had a friend before. Ned pulled me out of a dumpster last month when Flash and his friends hit me and threw me into it behind the school and closed the lid. He pulled the trash out of my hair and took the subway home with me to make sure no one would bother me anymore.”
“So you get bullied at school?”
Peter nodded. “I always have.”
Anger flared again and this time Peter gave his dad a concerned look and squeezed his hand. Tony looked down at him in surprise and then let go of Peter’s hand, reached over and pulled Peter’s chair closer to him so they were right up against each other, and put his arm around Peter’s shoulder.
“Did the bullying start in high school, or before?”
“It started after we moved, after I turned eleven… I mean nine. I uh… in the 6th grade I mean. I’m smaller than everyone else and people say I’m weird. I don’t know how to make friends. So when Ned decided to be my friend, aunt May said it was a- that it was a good thing and she, and she lets him come over sometimes, but I’m never allowed to go to his house. I told her I don’t want to move this time.”
“This time?” the female agent sitting next to Neilson asked.
“Uh, well we move a lot cuz I get bullied. We moved again after 6th grade. 7th grade, uh, it was really bad so we moved to New York and, and found a new school for 8th grade. Then we didn’t have to move cuz I was going to high school, which was a different school anyway.”
“Peter, do you know all the places you’ve lived?”
“The addresses?”
Neilson nodded.
“No.”
“Do you know the cities you lived in? The states?”
“Uh… well I think we were in Idaho when I turned 11, I mean… I mean when I turned nine?” Peter sounded confused and his dad squeezed him.
“Let’s go by grades,” Neilson suggested.
“When they first had me I think we were in Idaho. I’m, I’m not really sure. We moved, and went to Michigan after 6th grade and I went to 7th grade there. Then we moved to Brooklyn, but only for two months, then, then we moved to Queens and I started 8th grade. We moved halfway through 8th grade to the apartment we’re in now in Queens. When I told aunt May and uncle Ben about Ned and he started coming over, I told them I didn’t want to move again.”
“Peter, are you aware that they aren’t your real aunt and uncle?”
Peter nodded. “I know. I’ve always known. But I get in trouble if I’m disrespectful. I, I- I have to call them aunt and uncle.”
“Not anymore you don’t,” Tony said, voice tinged with anger.
“Yeah, ok,” Peter said quietly, looking down at the table. “Ok, ok,” he kept rambling.
“Just a few more questions Peter. We may have more questions for you in a few days, but just a few more today. Can you hang in there with us for a few more minutes?”
Peter nodded, that warm feeling coming over him again. It was almost like his father was trying to will his own strength through their bond and give it all to Peter.
“Peter, was it May and Ben who took you from your parents, or was it someone else?”
“I can’t, I mean, I can’t remember being with anyone else. They said, they said, they said I- they didn’t want me anymore,” Peter rambled.
“May and Ben said they didn’t want you anymore?” Neilson asked.
“May and Ben said my parents didn’t want me anymore… they, they said they gave me to them… to, to May and Ben. Then a few days later, I was, they didn’t like it because I was fighting them. I wouldn’t do what they said. They kept calling me Ben and telling me I was confused about my name. I kept telling them I wanted to go home. They said I couldn’t because, because, because my mom and dad died in a plane crash!”
Peter’s hands and arms were shaking again and he was surprised when his father turned his chair and then pulled Peter out of it and onto his lap. He held him tightly and Peter tried to focus on the warmth radiating from his father’s arms and chest.
“Just a few more questions,” Neilson said.
“One more,” Tony said with a sharp tone that made Peter flinch. He was only glad his father wasn’t angry with him.
“All right,” Neilson conceded. “One more. Peter, did you know this whole time who your real parents were? How did you decide to approach your father today?”
“I could only remember my mom’s hair, and I remembered my dad’s face, and his eyes and his beard.” And his smile, and the look in his eyes, and his voice, Peter thought, mind racing ahead far faster than his mouth could move to get the words out. “I- I knew his name was Tony, but I couldn’t remember our last name. I think maybe I remembered before, when they- when I was first- when they first took me. But they kept telling me I was confused. They kept making me repeat my name, Ben Parker, Ben Parker. I don’t know when I forgot,” Peter said, trailing away quietly. “I forgot a lot of things.” His eyes came up to his father and he said, “I saw you on TV a couple weeks ago. You were on the news. I saw you, and I knew. Your- your beard is a little different, but I saw you and I remembered. I knew it was you. And I became friends with Ned, and he believed me that I was called Peter, and he believed me that I was kidnapped, and then I saw you today at the assembly and I froze, and Ned asked what was wrong and I said it was you. I said you were my dad. And Ned asked what I wanted to do, if I wanted, if, if, if I wanted him to talk to you and tell you, and I said- I told him, I told him that I’d do it.”
Tony couldn’t resist anymore. He put his face down into his son’s hair and closed his eyes. It had taken him everything to sit through the interview and to bury his own emotions… his own anger, and guilt, and need for revenge, and to just feel ‘strength’ and ‘confidence’ and ‘comfort’ so that those things would be pushed through their connection and to Peter. Those were the things Peter needed from him, so those were the things he had to project. But it still hurt hearing about the things Peter had had to live through, and Tony knew, he knew that there was more… that there were things Peter hadn’t told them yet. Just like there were things he’d never told Pepper or Rhodey about Afghanistan… about the water boarding, and the beatings, and the loud noises his captors had played at all hours of the day and night to be sure he was always running on as little sleep as possible. Tony had given Pepper and Rhody the easy things to digest… his injury, being connected to a car battery for his first month in the cave, the lack of fresh air and sunlight, the hunger… he squeezed Peter tighter. He hoped that Peter hadn’t gone through those things, but was reminded again that either Peter was following in his footsteps, or that Tony had gone through things Peter would go through. Things he might have already gone through.
“Mr. Stark?”
Tony’s eyes were wet when he pulled his face up from Peter’s hair. He didn’t look at Agent Neilson.
“That’ll be all for tonight. You can take him home. Do you need a ride?”
Tony cleared his throat. “I’ll arrange a ride.”
“Of course. You can wait in this room. Agent Jenks will be just outside the door. When you’re ready to leave, she’ll escort you down to the entrance.”
“Thank you,” Tony said. The three agents left them there and shut the door, and Tony buried his face in Peter’s hair for a few more moments, and then felt around in his pocket for his phone. There were half a dozen texts from Pepper about missing his meeting. Damn it, he’d forgotten to call Pepper. She would be mad at him, but at the moment he was doing all he could to hold himself and Peter together. The moment he saw Pepper he would lose it. He would crumble, and break, and he wouldn’t be able to pick the pieces up again until the next day, or the day after. That was going to have to happen at home, not here in the FBI field office.
He dialed Happy and the phone rang once, twice, and then Happy picked up.
“Boss?”
“I need a ride. I’m at the New York FBI field office. I’m going to need you and someone else to go pick up my car after you take me back to the tower. It’s still at Midtown.”
“I’m on my way.” There was a pause and then Happy asked hesitantly, “Are you all right?”
“I just need you to get here. Right now.” He knew he sounded a little high strung and that Happy had heard it too. He’d heard the worry in his head of security’s voice.
“I’m on it.”
Tony hung up the phone.
Peter and Tony sat quietly, Peter content to just be wrapped up in his father’s arms. After a few minutes Tony said quietly, “You were so brave. I’m so proud of you.”
“I’m not brave,” Peter said. “I always run from Flash Thompson.”
Tony stroked his hair. “You’re very brave. It took a lot of courage to answer the agent’s questions.”
“That was you,” Peter said quietly. “I could feel it in my chest.”
“What about in the auditorium? That was all you.”
That had taken all of Peter’s courage to work up to. From all he’d learned about Tony Stark online since seeing him on TV, he was described as difficult to be around… hard to communicate with. There were stories of him snapping at anyone and everyone. He was a genius, but not personable. It had been hard for Peter to wrap his mind around because his memories of his dad were of him smiling, joking, and singing to him, not snapping and yelling at him. He was warm and kind, and everything the opposite of May and Ben. All of those thoughts had crowded his head during the presentation at Midtown, and he probably wouldn’t have been brave enough to approach his dad if Ned hadn’t stepped up to help him do it.
Tony’s phone buzzed and after a quick look at it, he said, “Our ride’s here.”
“Is it- is it her? Is it- I mean, is it miss Potts?”
“You can call her mom.”
“I wasn’t- I mean- I didn’t know.”
Tony shifted Peter’s weight off of him and stood up, then took Peter’s hand and walked out of the conference room. Agent Jenks was waiting for them, and led them to an elevator and then down to the lobby. “We’ll be in contact Mr. Stark,” she told him. Tony nodded and then he and Peter walked outside. It was after five PM and the sun was starting to set. He spotted Happy, standing outside the car, staring with his mouth open.
As Tony and Peter approached, Happy opened the back door and asked, “Boss?”
“Later.”
Peter climbed inside and Tony followed. He didn’t wait for Peter to buckle himself in, though he was sure his son could because he was 12. Instead Tony reached across him, grabbed the belt, and pulled it across Peter, clicking it into place. After he’d buckled himself in, Happy pulled away, and Tony took Peter’s hand again, just like they had done on the ride in the agent’s car earlier that day.
“I bet you’re hungry,” Tony said after the silence in the car had become suddenly unbearable a few miles away. “It’s almost dinner time.”
“We don’t get to eat til' late,” Peter said.
“How late?”
He shrugged. “May gets off work late, and sometimes Ben does too.”
Tony hesitated, eyes taking in his son’s body again. The kid was skinny, but he didn’t look starved. “Do you get to eat dinner?”
Peter nodded. “Yeah, just not until eight or nine sometimes.”
“Well we can eat earlier if you want. Do you uh, what do you-”
“McDonalds,” Peter said.
Tony stared down at him. When Peter was younger, sometimes he would finish Tony’s sentences like that, or Tony would know what Peter was going to say before he said it. That was just the way it was with soul-bonds. They couldn’t read each other’s minds, but sometimes it felt like they could. It had been so long since he’d felt that, that it was an odd sensation to have now… to have Peter answer him before he’d finished a question.
“You like McDonalds?”
Peter nodded. “We never get to eat it. Last week Ned brought me McDonald’s in his lunch though. It was cold from being in his lunchbox, but I ate it anyway.”
Tony was aware Happy was listening from up front, but he was too involved in Peter’s story to care. “What else do you-” he paused, waiting to see if Peter would answer him without letting him finish again, but Peter only stared at him. “Not gonna finish that one huh?”
Peter looked down at his hand, still holding Tony’s. “I uh, I mean, I didn’t wanna be uh- May says sometimes I’m rude.”
“It’s ok,” Tony said. “You and I used to finish each other’s sentences all the time.”
“I don't remember that.”
“Your mom used to get jealous.”
“I’m sorry.”
Tony squeezed his hand as they neared the tower. “You’ve got nothing to be sorry about kiddo. Someday you’re gonna have a little brother or sister running around that finishes your mom’s sentences.”
“I am?” Peter asked in surprise.
Tony huffed a laugh. It had been so long since he’d thought about having another child. All his effort had been focused on Peter. He’d tried not to think about Pepper’s soul-mark, and how it promised that one day she’d be as close to a child as Tony was to Peter. Pepper had been close to Peter too, she was his mother. But there was a different kind of closeness that came from soul-bonds. There were a lot of theories as to what exactly they were, but no one knew for certain. Some said that when two people were made from the same particles and atoms they became bonded. The most popular theory was that a soul-bond was created between two people who would be able to understand each other better than anyone else would be able to connect with or understand them. There were more theories, but Tony wasn’t necessarily interested in any of them.
“We’re almost home,” Tony said, pointing out the window to the tower. Peter leaned sideways across Tony, trying to get a glimpse out the window and to stare straight up at the tower as they drove down into the private parking garage beneath it.
“You live at the top,” Peter said.
“We live at the top. How did you know?”
“Research.” Then Peter frowned. “You can’t see the ocean from there can you?” he said, voice sounding dejected. His shoulders hunched forward and Tony felt Peter’s disappointment.
“We could see the ocean from the house in Malibu, in California,” he said. “From the patio, like you said. We moved to New York when the FBI got a lead that you’d been brought to the East coast.”
“You- moved for me?”
“Peter, we’d go to space for you.”
Peter just stared at him, slack jawed in awe as Happy pulled into the parking space next to the private elevator that went up to the penthouse.
They got out of the car, and Happy tried to pretend like he wasn’t staring as Tony took Peter’s hand and led him to the elevator. “Thanks Happy,” Tony told him.
Happy nodded and said, “I’ll go out with someone and get your car at Midtown.”
Tony gave a nod, pressed the button to open the elevator door, and led Peter inside.
The ride took several minutes, and somewhere around level 40 Peter began to shift nervously from foot to foot. Just like in the car when Peter had known what Tony had been about to ask, Tony knew Peter was nervous about meeting Pepper again.
“She’s going to be surprised to see you,” Tony said. “She loves you Pete. She’s missed you so much. I haven’t had a chance yet to call her and tell her that we found you… that you found us.” He pulled Peter in close to him and said, “It’s going to be all right.”
Peter clung to him, wishing Ned were there to help him meet his mom again just like he'd been there to help him meet his dad. His dad was here though, and Peter felt comforted in a way he couldn't ever remember feeling before today… he felt whole, like everything that had been wrong before was right. He didn't know why. A moment later the feeling of strength and confidence came across the bond again and the elevator door slid open. Peter stared into the massive foreign penthouse. This wasn't anything like the brief glimpses of memories he had of the house in Malibu.
"Are you ready?" Tony asked. He held out his hand for Peter to take and Peter held it tightly.
Ready or not, Peter didn’t know, but he stepped out of the elevator with his dad and looked around at the unfamiliar space.
“Pepper?” Tony called out.
There was no answer for a moment, but then a tall slender woman with flowing strawberry blond hair came down a few steps out of another room, pulling her hair out of a bun. She wasn’t wearing shoes, but she was wearing a light gray business suit.
“Tony, I know you think meetings are optional, but you can’t just skip them without letting me know first so I can get in to cover them. I had to skip a call with the head of the green energy division in China to cover your R and D meeting.” She hadn’t yet looked up at him. She had picked a tablet up off of a glass coffee table in the living room and was tapping on it.
“Pepper?” Tony said again, still standing by the elevator holding Peter’s hand.
Pepper sighed, said, “Can you at least tell me that the presentation at the high school went well today? If we’re going to get the September Foundation off the ground, we need to sponsor at least 10 teens to start.”
Tony almost laughed out loud at that. Peter’s birthday was in September… Pepper had wanted to start a foundation to help children in Peter’s name and had named the foundation after his birth month. He supposed it was one of the ways she was coping with Peter’s absence. Tony had wanted nothing to do with the foundation, or with having to go to Midtown to give a presentation to get kids interested in it, but had done it for Pepper. Just because he’d locked himself away… separated himself from her didn’t mean he didn’t still love her, even if he hadn’t shown that love in years.
“Pep,” Tony said for a third time, and this time, the use of her nickname, the one Tony almost never used anymore, brought her eyes up to him. She paused, frozen like Peter had seen so many people that day.
“I um… I had a reason I had to miss that meeting. A really good one as it turns out.”
From across the room, her eyes came up to Tony. “Tony is that-”
He smiled at her, and Peter felt something frightening come across the link. It was like a dam holding back a lake had sprung a leak and was about to crumble. “I found him Pep.” Tony’s voice shook, and Pepper’s eyes came back down to drink in Peter’s appearance. Peter pressed himself up against Tony’s side, wanting to just bury his face in his father’s shirt again, but also wanting to keep his eyes on his mother for any sudden movements she might make. The only thing she did for long moments was put her hands up to her mouth and stare.
Then she started to cross the living room and Peter stiffened, muscles tensing. His dad had said that he and Pepper both wanted him… had both been searching, but Peter didn’t have a soul-mark in common with his mom. He couldn’t feel what she was feeling, and even if he could, it was hard not to flinch back at an adult approaching him with all their attention on him. He’d been smacked, pushed, and locked away too many times to just blindly believe that he’d be all right.
Pepper came close, but paused at the sight of Peter’s tense posture. He’d begun to shake again, and had pressed himself further into his dad’s side. His eyes were fearful as he locked eyes with her. Then she knelt down in front of him, like Tony had done in the auditorium, and said, voice shaking and barely above a whisper, “Hi Peter. I’m your mom.”
Peter didn’t move, eyes roving over her face, trying to memorize every detail that the photos he’d looked up on Ned’s computer hadn’t been able to capture. She had a lot of freckles across her face, and her eyes were warm like Tony’s. She didn’t wear earrings, or at least she wasn’t right now, and the way her soft strawberry hair draped around her face was familiar and made Peter feel warm and happy. He wished he could remember more about her.
“I’m- I’m Peter,” he said quietly. And then like his dad had done, she pulled him into a hug. Tony let go of his hand and Peter stiffened for long moments at the loss of the safety net Tony’s hand had provided and in fear that he’d be hurt. But he wasn’t being hurt, he was being embraced. He was being hugged by his mom, who’s face he knew now. She was clutching him, holding him close, and crying quietly into his hair. Peter wrapped his arms around her and held onto her tightly. Tony moved away from them a few steps and lifted his hand up to his mouth.
His dad was turned away from them, but Peter could tell by the shake of his shoulders, and the feeling in his chest across their link that he was crying.
Faced with that feeling, and his mom crying into his hair, Peter’s eyes welled up with tears too. He was home.