Peter
Peter wakes up slowly and a little disoriented. He’s so comfortable and warm. He snuggles down into the soft blankets and sighs contently. He hasn’t slept that well in so long. He normally has horrible nightmares every night, but he can’t remember any right now.
He assumes it’s still fairly early in the morning. Even with his eyes closed, he can tell there’s no sunshine coming in through his bedroom window, and Bill or Diane haven’t come barging in demanding breakfast yet.
He decides to just roll over and try to get back to sleep, but the sharp pain in his abdomen brings him quickly back to reality. Everything from the night before comes rushing back. The drug bust, getting hit, rushing to Ned’s, his friend stealing his phone and calling Mr. Stark. Everything gets a little hazy after that.
He finally pries his tired eyes open to see a pitch black room. He tries to rub the sleep out of his eyes. They adjust a little bit to the darkness, and he can tell that he’s in a hospital room. It’s most likely the medical wing of Stark tower considering who had to come rescue him last night.
He pushes himself up to a sitting position and glances around the room as best he can. He can feel that his torso is bare and he has bandages on his right shoulder and his left side. His spider suit is bunched up around his waist. He pulls it back up and over his arms to keep himself covered before investigating the room. He sees the silhouette of a table next to the bed, and after a bit of feeling around, finds a cup of water and his phone. He downs the water in a couple big gulps. Getting shot really makes a guy thirsty. Then, he turns his phone on, showing on the lock screen that its 4:45 in the morning. Shit. He’s gotta go.
He hurriedly slides out of the bed and towards where he can see a small sliver of light coming from under the doorway. He can probably get home on time if he swings. That’ll hurt like a bitch though. He grabs the door handle, but before he can open the door, he’s stopped in his tracks by a voice.
“Pete?”
Oh no. Busted.
“Friday, lights on low, please.”
Peter turns around slowly as a dim warm light fills the room. Once again, thanks a lot for the warning spider sense. Mr. Stark is sitting in an uncomfortable looking chair immediately next to Peter’s bed, and from the messed up hair and red lines across one side of the man’s face, his head had been slumped over next to Peter on the bed for a while. He is looking at Peter through squinted, bloodshot eyes. Peter clearly woke him up when he got out of bed.
After a couple seconds of eye contact, Mr. Stark seems to snap out of his sleep induced haze and he jumps up from his chair, eyes wide open.
“Peter! What do you think you’re doing? You’re supposed to be sleeping.” He says in a disapproving tone. He gets to Peter in a couple strides, reaching his arm out most likely to try to drag Peter back to the bed, but seems to think better of it and drops his outstretched arm in favor of just gesturing with it.
“I’m going back to the Patterson’s apartment.” Peter replies, trying to sound confident and aloof, but probably failing.
Peter isn’t sure how he feels about how well his father has mastered the “disapproving parent” look so quickly.
“No way in hell, Peter.” Tony begins. “You literally got shot twice not even 4 hours ago. You’re staying here in the medbay at least through the day.”
Peter’s eyes widen. “Please, Mr. Stark.” He practically begs. “I can’t stay here. Bill goes to work soon and he checks in on me every morning before he leaves. He can’t know that I’m gone. I’ll get in so much trouble.”
Mr. Stark’s eyes soften, but he looks like he’s going to argue again.
“Please, Mr. Stark.” Peter asks again desperately.
Tony sighs. “Oh, fine.” He turns around and grabs his things off the side table before turning back towards the door, gesturing towards it.
“Let’s go, then.” He says, and he starts walking. Peter is frozen in shock for a moment before he turns around as well and walks after Mr. Stark.
“Wait.” He calls out. “You’re coming?”
His dad slows down so he can catch up while limping slightly so he doesn’t pull out his stitches.
“Of course I’m coming. I’m driving.” Mr. Stark replies. “Did you think I was going to call Happy at 4:30 in the morning to come get you? He would quit.”
Peter scoffs. “Happy would never quit. And no, I just figured I would go alone I guess.”
His dad’s eyes widen almost comically as he stops in his tracks to turn towards Peter. “You thought I was just going to let you out on the street to get back on your own? While you have two bullet holes in you? Come on, I know you’re smarter than that.”
Peter can feel his cheeks getting red.
“Well, I…” he tries to come up with an excuse, but after a second his dad starts walking again, forcing Peter to follow. They make it down to the garage and into the car pretty quickly, especially with Peter’s hobbling.
“So, Pete.” His dad begins when they’re finally out on the road. “You want to tell me why you’ve been avoiding me for a month?”
Ugh. Peter has been expecting this question since he found his father in his room a little bit ago, but that doesn’t make it any easier to answer. He looks away and shrugs.
“So you have been avoiding me, then?” The man asks accusingly. “You don’t want to make up some excuse about the holidays or being busy or anything?”
“Would it work?” Peter asks hesitantly.
“Nope.” His dad replies. “But I figured you’d try anyway.”
Peter shrugs again.
“If it’s about the school thing, then I’m sorry. I really thought it was a good opportunity, but we can try to get you enrolled somewhere else if you want. Although it is a little late-“
“It’s not about that.” Peter interrupts quietly, still poignantly staring out the window into the darkness.
“Then what is it about?” Mr. Stark asks again.
“I’ve just been…dealing with some stuff. I guess. I don’t want to talk about it.” Peter replies harshly, but his dad doesn’t get angry.
“Okay.” He replies softly. “You don’t have to talk to me about this if you don’t want to, but you do need to talk to me, Peter.”
His dad waits a second before tapping on Peter’s shoulder.
“Pete, look at me.”
Peter very begrudgingly looks over at Mr. Stark, still behind the wheel but glancing Peter’s way every so often to make sure he’s paying attention.
“You really freaked me out last night, okay?” The man says. “You promised me that you were going to call me if you had any life threatening emergencies, and you didn’t. Your little friend Ted told me that actually, you begged him not to call me even though you were bleeding out on his floor. That’s not okay, Peter. I need to be able to trust you to know when to get help, or this isn’t going to work.”
Peter nods, eyes going back to the floor with guilt. He does feel kind of bad about what happened. Everything after Mr. Stark took him out of Ned’s bathroom is kind of hazy, but he can remember how worried the man was. Although he was probably just concerned with how SHIELD would react if they found out that Iron Man’s mentee died from gunshot wounds.
But then Peter thinks about the rest of the night. Mr. Stark stitched him up, sure, but he also covered him with warm blankets for the night, got him his phone and water, and then literally slept within reach of Peter like he was too worried about him to go to bed. It was almost…like what Peter might imagine a parent might act like.
And now his dad is saying it’s not going to work if he doesn’t start acting better. Is he going to dump him off on some other superhero? Peter doesn’t want to be trained by some other hero. He wants Mr. Stark.
“Kid?” He asks, waiting for Peter’s response, before catching himself.
“No, sorry. Peter. I meant to say Peter. Do you get what I’m saying?”
Peter nods, suddenly getting a little overwhelmed with emotions. Normally he only has trouble taming his temper, but for some reason, the thought of Mr. Stark not wanting to train him anymore is making him just plain sad.
Peter has had a long night. A long month actually, since he found out about his father. He tired. More than that, actually. He’s exhausted. He’s had no sleep, barely any food, been beaten, shot, screamed at, and he’s so tired of denying himself things that he wants because he’s trying to look tough. Maybe it’s okay to be ‘kid’ sometimes. Maybe it’s okay to be Mr. Stark’s ‘kid’. The man would never want Peter as his real kid, but maybe it would be okay for Peter to just pretend for a bit. Unfortunately, Peter thinks it might be too late even for that.”
It’s a good thing it’s dark, because he would never be able to look Mr. Stark in the eyes again if the man caught him vulnerable like this. He tries his best to pull himself together before replying.
“It’s okay….if you call me that, I mean.”
Mr. Stark was silent for a moment before answering, probably confused.
“…yeah? You’ve made it very clear in the past that you weren’t huge on that one. I’ve got other names, Underoos. Ask anyone I know. Nicknames are my specialty.”
Peter shrugs again. “I don’t mind. Kid is fine.” He says quietly, feeling a little embarrassed already at admitting it.
“Okay, sure, kid. Whatever you want. Now can we talk about what happened last night?” The man asks again.
“Are you going to have someone else train me?” Peter asks him quickly, trying not to let it upset him like it did a minute ago.
“What?” Mr. Stark asks, shocked. “No! Why would you think that? You were the one avoiding me, remember? Which is completely ridiculous, by the way. Who avoids Tony Stark?”
Mr. Stark isn’t sending him away? Peter is so confused he doesn’t even try to fake a laugh at the man’s dumb joke.
“A few minutes ago you said this isn’t going to work.” He explains.
Tony shakes his head. “No, kiddo, I meant what happened last night isn’t going to work, not the whole thing we’re doing.”
Peter lets out a sigh of relief. Thank god, he has another chance. He hasn’t completely ruined everything again. He’s going to have to be better from now on. Mr. Stark isn’t going to be this patient with him forever.
“I’m sorry, sir.” He begins earnestly. “It really was an accident. I didn’t mean to get that hurt.”
“I’m not upset with you because you got shot.” The man tells him firmly. “I’m upset because we made a deal that I would adjust my protective protocols on your suit only if you promised to call me if you managed to get an injury that’s life threatening. That happened last night, and if I hadn’t gotten there in time, you would’ve bled out on your friends floor.”
Peter nods sadly, eyes on the floor of the car.
“I’m sorry, sir. I won’t do it again.”
“Hey, Pete.” Tony says, tone softer than it’s been all night. When he doesn’t look up, he feels Mr. Stark’s finger tap the bottom of his chin, encouraging him to look back at him. “It’s okay, kiddo. Just don’t do it again, deal? I’m going for my second year as sexiest man alive and People Magazine isn’t going to like all these new grey hairs.”
Peter snorts a laugh, breaking the tense atmosphere inside the car that has been making Peter feel sick since he got in.
“Don’t worry, Mr. Stark. They’ve chosen lots of guys even older than you. You might have a chance.”
His dad chuckles, smiling wide. He reaches over and shoves the side of Peter’s head jokingly. “You better quit it with the old man jokes, Spider-boy or I’m going to officially coin the term “Peter Tingle.” I’m a trend setter. I can make it happen.”
“Nooo. Mr. Stark!!” Peter whines, laughing. “It’s called a spider sense. Get it right!”
Mr. Stark just laughs deviously from the driver’s seat. Peter looks out the window and can tell they’re getting close to his apartment. He still has a bit before Bill unlocks his door for the morning. He never would have made it if his dad hadn’t driven him.
Tony pulls in at the curb in front of the building like usual, and Peter asks the question he’s been dreading, but he hopes he already knows what his dad’s answer will be based on their conversation.
“So, would it maybe be okay if I came back next Wednesday?” He asks hesitantly.
Mr. Stark puts on a look like he’s thinking hard about his answer.
“Hmm, I guess I’ll check my schedule and see if I can fit you in.”
“Oh.” Peter’s heart immediately falls. He guesses he was interpreting tonight the wrong way. He tries not to show how disappointed he is. “Yeah, of course. Just…let me know, I guess.”
He reaches for the door handle, but Mr. Stark quickly stops him.
“Kid, no, I’m just joking with you. Actually I’ll do you one better. The team’s been asking about you and I was hoping you’d come with me to the compound on Saturday.”
“Really?!” Peter asks excitedly, before stopping himself and trying to sound nonchalant. “I mean, uh, yeah. That sounds okay.”
But Mr. Stark was already chuckling at his reaction. “Okay, great. I’ll clear it with the fosters later today and I’ll see you on Saturday, 10 am again.” He reaches over and ruffles Peter’s hair as he goes to get out of the car. Peter tries not to enjoy the small amount of contact so much.
“I’ll see you Saturday, Mr. Stark.” Peter says back to him before shutting his door and waving at the car as it drives away down the dark street.
Peter slips the mask back on to crawl back up to his window, peaking through to make sure Bill didn’t come in early, before opening it and sliding inside. He quickly and carefully extracts himself from the suit, minding the so carefully stitched up bullet wounds, stuffs it into his backpack, and throws on a T-shirt before climbing into bed. He’s only under the covers for about 15 minutes before he hears loud footsteps coming his direction. The door unlocks and slams open with a bang.
“Get your lazy ass out of bed, useless freeloader.” Bill yells from the doorway. “If you aren’t up and downstairs making breakfast in 3 minutes you’re getting the belt.” He slams the door shut again and stomps away. Peter allows himself a few seconds to groan about getting up before dragging himself back out of bed again. He’s not willing to risk the belt today, not with two gunshot wounds in his torso. Those will be glaringly obvious without his shirt on.
Bill and Diane both work weekdays, which is incredibly lucky for Peter. There’s much less chance of him accidentally pissing them off while he heals. He makes them breakfast as fast as he can, getting shoved around a bit in the process but nothing he can’t handle, and then sends them off.
They leave him with chores of course, but he still has plenty of time to do everything else he has on his personal list, inclining freak the fuck out about what happened earlier. It’s scheduled right after walking down the street to McDonald’s for some McGriddles and right before calling Ned.
He’s glad he takes his freak out time before calling his friend, because Ned is of course also freaking out. The boy is already screaming as he answers the phone.
“PETER OH MY GOD DUDE ARE YOU ALRIGHT TONY STARK WAS IN MY BEDROOM AND THEN HE PULLED YOU OUT THROUGH THE WINDOW AND I COULDNT TELL IF YOU WERE UNCONSCIOUS OR DEAD PLEASE TELL ME YOURE NOT DEAD PETER YOURE MY BEST FRIEND-“
“NED!” He screams back, holding the phone far from his ear so his enhanced hearing doesn’t give him a headache. “I’m not dead! I’m perfectly fine. Well, not perfectly fine I suppose. I did get shot-“
“I was so scared, dude!” Ned interrupts. “And I’m sorry if you’re mad at me for taking your phone but I really thought you were going to die if I didn’t.”
“It’s okay, Ned.” Peter replies. “I’m sorry I put you in that position, dude.”
“We’re good.” Ned replies happily. “Sooo?” His friend asks.
“So what?” Peter responds, even though he’s positive he knows what Ned is asking already.
“So, how did it go last night with you know who?!” The boy asks excitedly, voice hushed like he’s worried someone could listen in.
Peter is pacing around his bedroom, occasionally up on the walls and around the ceiling as he talks. It doesn’t feel much different to him as walking on the floor, but he does need to pay more attention not to get footprints anywhere.
“It went fine, I guess.” He says, suddenly kind of reluctant to share the details. “He dug the bullet out and stitched the holes closed, then he drove me back to the apartment.”
He can sense Ned’s irritation over the phone before he even answers. “You know what I meant. Did you tell him? Is he claiming you as his son and bringing you to live with him?”
Peter scoffs and rolls his eyes. “Ned, you’re being ridiculous. I already told you I can’t tell him.”
“And I think you’re being ridiculous.” His friend says back. “You didn’t see him last night, Peter. He went total dad mode. He crawled through the window and everything! It was amazing!”
“Ugh, he didn’t go dad mode, Ned!” Peter snaps, getting frustrated. “There’s no dad mode!”
He hears Ned huff on the other end of the line. “Fine, have you at least gotten over your weird avoidance thing, yet?”
“…yes.” Peter admits, grumbling. “He’s taking me to the compound again on Saturday.”
“That’s so sick!!” Ned screams into his ear again, causing him to wince. “You’ll have to tell me everything on Monday, okay?”
“Yeah, of course.” Peter agrees.
“Come by my place before school and we’ll walk over together?” His friend asks.
“Sure. I’ll see you then.”
Peter hears the line click off, so he tosses his phone back onto his bed before flopping over onto the mattress himself, groaning. He thinks it’s time for a quick nap before he needs to get started on his chores. He’s still exhausted, although the thought of the compound on Saturday and going to school with Ned on Monday sap some of that exhaustion back out from where he felt it deep in his bones. Maybe things will end up working out after all.