Chapter 2
"Mr. Stark, what is this?" Peter sounds confused, just teetering on the edge of sharp. It's an odd tone for him, and not what Tony's expecting at all for a late-night lab session, and it makes him frown as he turns to face Peter.
To his surprise, Peter's not watching him at all, but rather the screen in front of him. Tony squints at it but can't quite deduce what could have perturbed the kid enough to put such a frozen expression on his face.
"What's what, Pete? What are you looking at?"
When Peter still doesn't respond, Tony rises to his feet with a huff and strides over to where the kid is sat, hoping to solve this quickly so that he can return to what was originally working on. Namely, Peter's Iron Spider suit, his crowning achievement.
He reaches Peter's side, and peers over his shoulder to find -
Oh.
Not good.
"Tony? Tony?" He hears footsteps thundering down the corridor towards him, interrupting the haze of static that Tony finds himself trapped in, unable to claw his way to the surface. He blinks and only now realises that his eyes had been staring at the wall in front of him, though he can't remember seeing anything at all.
He manages to turn his head towards the frantic voice and finds Harley almost upon him, his face streaked with tears and his hands -
His hands, trembling in front of him, held aloft as if burnt, covered in - covered in vivid scarlet, staining his skin and his clothes -
And God, that's Peter's blood - that's all Peter's blood, thick and crimson and coating Harley, who appears one wrong word away from losing his clearly tenuous grip on self-control, much like Tony himself. He can see the energy Harley's expending in his desperate attempts to keep himself together, to not give in to the tears that he won't allow to continue.
"Harley -" Tony manages to choke out, stumbling to his feet and catching the boy's hands in his own. Harley gasps then, a shaky, awful sound that tears at Tony's heart.
"Tony, is he - is he going to be okay? P-Peter?" Harley stammers, tripping over his words as his breathing hitches and his mind runs away from him. "Did they - have they said anything?"
Tony squeezes his hands. Hard. "Harley, Harley, breathe, okay, you have to breathe with me, okay?"
The boy simply stares at him uncomprehendingly, a distinct lack of understanding in his bloodshot gaze for a moment. "What - Tony?"
"He's still alive." Tony rushes to reassure him, hating the sight of Peter's blood all over his child and wishing that, just once, he could have prevented any harm from befalling either of his kids. Maybe then, if he'd been good enough, one wouldn't be traumatised and the other wouldn't be -
Dying.
No. He refuses to allow it.
"When I got him here, he was still alive." He elaborates as clinically as he can, even though it breaks his heart. "He's been in there ever since, and that was about twenty minutes ago. They're - they're doing their best, bud, but we'll have to wait a bit longer."
"How much longer -"
Tony closes his eyes for a moment, "I don't know, I don't - I don't know how long they need."
Harley's breaking, he can see it in his eyes. He's holding Tony's hands so tightly that it's beginning to hurt, though Tony hardly cares, not while his kid has such a dreadful expression on his face and is covered in his brother's blood.
"Have you called everyone?" Harley whispers. He seems to have lost the ability to speak any louder. "L-like May? And Ned and MJ? And, oh God, Johnny. He's going to - you have to tell him, he needs to know, and I need - "
"Harley, slow down, they're all already on their way -"
"Tony, I need to wash this blood off," Harley continues as if Tony hadn't spoken, "it's Peter's, not mine, I want it off - he needs it, not me - we need to - he can't - oh God -"
And then Harley's face crumples completely, and his knees are buckling and he's collapsing in on himself as if someone had forcibly cut his strings and let him fall. Tony's there to catch him, though, scooping him into his arms and lowering them both to the ground before any further damage can be done.
And Harley - sobs. He clings to Tony, in a way he never has before, and cries harder than Tony has ever seen from him. Gasping breaths tear from his mouth, and his slender frame shudders in Tony's arms. It's awful, and it hurts to listen to, and Tony wishes he could take Harley's pain, wishes it was him and not Peter who was injured. His children, suffering.
It's too much, it's too much for anyone.
"Mr Stark, are you - I don't understand. What is this?"
Tony tenses, eyes flickering back to Peter to gauge his reaction. "Pete, I..."
Peter interrupts him then, his hands clenching into fists on the table and his frown clearing to leave a steely expression that freezes Tony to his core. Peter is never angry, not with him - he may still be a teenager, and he may get moody sometimes, but he's relatively level-headed on the whole, and rarely gets truly angry with any of them.
Tony desperately hopes that this won't be the exception.
"If you're about to say this is nothing or it's not what I think, then you're going to have explain, because, to me, this looks like footage from all of my patrols. And that... that can't be right. Can it?" Peter's gaze is fixed unseeingly on the screen before him, and his tone is eerily flat.
"Wait, Peter, that's not..."
Peter's jaw clenches, before he continues, "No, that can't be right, because you told me that Karen didn't send you any footage from my patrols, that you couldn't watch me anymore. You swore that you weren't watching, and - and you were the whole time, weren't you?"
Tony can't find the words to contradict him, partly because it's impossible. Peter's entirely correct, and Tony should have been smarter about it than he has been. Peter was never supposed to find out.
"Oh my God, you're not even trying to defend yourself, are you?" Peter has risen to his feet now, and he's turned to face Tony, face darkening with every word. "I can't believe - God, you looked me in the eye, and you lied to me!"
Tony huffs at that, a misplaced irritation beginning to build in his chest as Peter hurls accusations at him, not giving him the chance to explain himself. He can feel it, and he knows he shouldn't release it, but he's never been one to sit and take a beating.
"Okay, Peter, that's enough." He cuts the boy off, tone sharper than he'd been aiming for. "I get you're angry, okay? I lied to you, you feel betrayed, I get it. But stop yelling at me. This doesn't have to be an argument."
Peter visibly bristles, the exact opposite of what Tony was going for, and his eyes flash. "No, it doesn't have to be an argument because I'm right and you know it. You were watching the whole time to make sure I didn't screw up, because you don't trust me, even though I've saved your life and I literally fought Thanos -"
Tony can't quite keep himself from rolling his eyes. "Peter, stop. You were not supposed to fight Thanos at all, you weren't even supposed to be in space with me -"
"But I was, and I helped you, you needed me there -"
"Yeah, and then you died."
Peter falls silent. He stares at Tony, his eyes widening in shock. Clearly he hadn't been expecting that, because Tony never talks about what happened on Titan, especially not around Peter. He hates even thinking about it, hates remembering how Peter collapsed onto him as his legs disintegrated from beneath him, how Peter's final act was to look him directly in the eyes and apologise.
He hadn't wanted to bring it up, especially not in such a dismissive tone, but he hopes that it will make Peter understand his reasoning a little better. Maybe he'll understand how Tony can't stomach the thought of his kid out there every night, alone, vulnerable, under attack, one mistake away from disappearing between his fingers once more.
There's silence between them, until finally Peter speaks, voice brittle. "Is that what this is about? I died once, and you don't trust me not to do it again? You don't think I can handle myself?"
Tony's head jerks up to Peter from where his gaze had fallen to the ground. He hadn't expected that, not at all, though he supposes he should have.
"What - no, Peter, that's not -"
"What will it take for you to trust me?" Peter growls, and Tony hates this entire situation so much, hates how it's spiralling and he can't rein it in. "You don't treat any of the other Avengers like this! You don't practically stalk them because you don't trust them to care of themselves!"
Tony rolls his eyes, hackles rising. "That's because the real Avengers are all over eighteen." He's not sure where that came from, but he wishes he hadn't said it as soon as it leaves his mouth.
There's a momentary pause as Peter registers Tony's words, hurt flashing across his features. Tony has only a second to regret putting that expression on his kid's face before Peter glowers at him, firing back, "I've been doing this since I was fifteen!"
"Despite my best efforts to make you stop."
Peter actually growls this time, a harsh cry of fury tearing from his throat as he slams a hand down onto the table. It audibly creaks under the power of Peter's super-strength, but Tony hardly cares.
"You can't keep doing this! You can't just turn around and tell me that I'm not a real superhero when we both know that's not true!" Peter yells, cheeks scarlet. "I'm never going to stop being Spider-Man, and I don't care what you have to say about it anymore!"
"Peter, stop acting like a child." Tony bites back. "You're just proving my point."
"What is your point? That I'm not mature enough?"
"Right, because you're being so mature right now." Tony rolls his eyes like the asshole he is. "Do you know who you sound like right now? Morgan when she has a temper tantrum. And she's six. What's your excuse?"
Peter doesn't reply. His jaw sets again, and his knuckles go white with how tightly they're clenched by his side.
But, instead of rising to Tony's comment, he just - stops. All the fight appears to drain from his body, and his gaze falls to the ground, an awful, wounded expression settling on his face. He looks the very picture of defeat, and Tony hates himself all of a sudden with a fiery passion.
"Pete-"
Peter just lifts his head to meet his gaze. The look in his eyes is like ice. He doesn't say anything, just stares him down. Before Tony can do or say anything, he stalks to the door and yanks it open.
Then he's gone, and Tony's alone.
Johnny is the first to arrive, obviously, because he can light himself on fire and fly. It transpires that he'd already been on his way back to see Peter, so it hadn't been difficult for him to quite literally jump ship and fly to the Tower himself, leaving a blazing trail of fire in his wake.
Tony had called him first, partly because he hadn't known how far away the boy was and partly because he knew Johnny would kick up a fuss if he didn't. He'll never admit it to anyone, but Tony's grown rather fond of Peter's superhero boyfriend, in spite of his more irritating qualities, such as his ego, his ability to snark right back at Tony and his narcissism.
(And yes, Peter has pointed out on many an occasion the endless similarities between Tony and Johnny. He doesn't need reminding that these irksome personality traits are not limited to just Johnny.)
But, for all of that, Tony understands how much Johnny loves Peter, knows how much he'd do for him. He sees the fear in his expressive eyes every time Peter is injured, even if it's just a scratch, and he's seen him gaze at Peter like he's the centre of his world, as if he wants for nothing more than to see Peter's smile and would be able to die in peace with Peter by his side.
Tony is forcibly reminded of this when Johnny comes careening into the Med Bay waiting area, still ablaze and body rigid with furious tension.
"Where is he?" Johnny demands, running towards Harley and Tony where they're slumped on the floor, Harley tucked under Tony's arm. "Where's Peter? Is he okay?"
His eyes fall to Harley's clothing, and he visibly blanches at the sight of the blood that still stains the other boy's hands and trousers, splatters of crimson speckled across the fabric. Almost immediately, Johnny's flames are extinguished, leaving him standing before them in his blue Fantastic Four suit.
"That's not - you said -" Johnny's gaze returns to Tony, a wild look in his eyes. Tony's never seen him this unravelled before, fraying at the edges and desperately hanging on to any semblance of composure. "Is he - you said he was still -"
"He's still alive." Tony cuts him off before he can spiral further. It's evident that the boy, only Peter's age and still so achingly young, has already leapt to conclusions, but Tony doesn't think he could stomach it if he voiced them aloud. He's barely been able to calm Harley down, so he doesn't think he has the emotional bandwidth to prevent his own impending breakdown if - when - it reaches for him. "When I called you, he was still alive. I haven't - I haven't heard anything since."
Johnny is silent, an almost blank expression crossing his face. Shock.
"Johnny?" Harley finally speaks, shifting from under Tony's arm and gently moving the man aside so that he can rise to his feet.
There's no response from the other boy, and Tony's heart aches as he watches Harley ever so carefully place a hand on Johnny's shoulder, as if he could burst into flames at any second. Johnny doesn't react to the touch, doesn't even look away from the wall in front of him. In the moment, he resembles a statue, cold - ironically - and still, expression shuttered and gaze faraway, as if his mind is elsewhere in the cosmos, or, more likely, trapped in his own panic.
"He'll be okay." Harley murmurs, before drawing Johnny into a hug and lowering him to the ground. The only sign of acknowledgement that Johnny makes is the way he lets his head fall onto Harley's shoulder, but his eyes continue to stare in front of him without seeing anything at all.
No one speaks for a while after that, until finally Johnny whispers, "He has to be."
Tony can't do anything more than fervently agree.
May is furious when she finds out what happened. Her entrance is quite frankly terrifying, hair everywhere and her eyes spitting fire as she stalks into the Med Bay, as if it's personally offended her.
"What the hell happened to my nephew, Tony?" are the first words out of her mouth, and the conversation only goes downhill from there.
Tony doesn't trust himself to give an accurate account of his and Peter's argument - which May demands to receive an overview of, for context - so he has FRIDAY show her the security footage from within the Tower, and when he says that he's never been more afraid of someone in his life, he genuinely means it.
As soon as he hears himself say the words, 'real Avengers' and 'temper tantrum', he physically cringes, a burning self-loathing overtaking him in an instant. He cannot believe he uttered those words - not to a teenager, and definitely not to Peter. He's supposed to be the adult in this scenario, especially one who is at fault, and yet his voice had been filled with a venom he hadn't intended or even been aware of, and he can only imagine how Peter had felt hearing it.
Harley appears resigned upon hearing the footage, as if he'd known about Tony's needless callousness, or hadn't expected anything better from him. Johnny, on the other hand, is glowering at him with literal fire in his eyes, snapping out of his near catatonia when he registers the cruel words that had driven his boyfriend away from the safety of the Tower and into the dangers of the city.
However, it's not Johnny - the only other superhero present - that Tony fears in this moment.
May's knuckles are stark white, the bone almost piercing the skin with how hard she's clenching her fists, and there's a fury in her eyes that he'd only seen once before, when she discovered the truth about Spider-Man's identity. She's practically trembling with rage as she - ever so slowly - turns away from the tablet and towards Tony.
And then she starts yelling.
During the onslaught, Tony decides that Happy deserves a medal of bravery for his valiant attempts to calm May down, vain as they are. Unfortunately, she ignores him and continues to highlight all the ways Tony has just failed her child, from the infantilising comparison to Morgan to the fact that he's been lying to Peter for months and had the gall to practically try and blame the kid for.
She's still yelling when Michelle and Ned arrive, even though it's half three in the morning and they definitely have school in the morning. Tony's not even sure how they made their way here, but he makes a mental note to apologise to their parents anyway.
Ned seems nervous in the face of May's shouting, while Michelle appears to instinctively understand that this situation is entirely Tony's fault. They both move towards Johnny and Harley and slump down beside them on the floor, their warring exhaustion and fear evident in the contraction between their tired bodies and wide eyes.
It's this sad image that finally makes May stop yelling, the mother inside of her - deprived of her child at present - evidently aching at the sight of her nephew's friends and boyfriend in such anguish. She sends Tony a harsh glare that reminds him just how unfinished their business is, before crouching in front of the kids and gently explaining Peter's situation to them, as had been relayed to her before she'd learnt exactly why he'd ended up in such a state.
In any other situation, Tony would have marvelled at her dual ability to be both terrifying as well as incredibly comforting, but he's too wrapped up in his own self-loathing to even consider this. God, he can't believe himself, can't believe he'd lied to the kid for months and called him a child, thus inadvertently and ironically resulting in the kid's current and precarious situation.
"He's going to be okay." May soothes the group of young adults, and Tony hates the way they're all huddled together like small children again, even if Harley is 21 now and the rest are 18, because it reminds him once more how young they all are, how young Peter is. "He always is."
"He has to be." Johnny says again miserably, exactly as he had earlier.
May's face twists as she nods, her own fear rising to the surface for them all to see. Then, her expression clears through sheer determination, and she continues. "Come on, let's get you off the floor and get you all something to eat and drink."
Tony watches as they rise to their feet and drop into the chairs they'd all collectively ignored in favour of the floor. MJ kindly offers to help May and Happy get the food and drinks for everyone - even Tony, as May begrudgingly relents - and they disappear in the direction of the compound kitchen. A moment later, Ned runs after them as if he can't bear to wait around any longer, which Tony more than understands.
Unfortunately, this leaves only him, Johnny and Harley, the former furious at him and the latter disappointed. An unpleasant silence falls in the hallway, heavy and stagnant.
Tony keeps waiting for Johnny to say something, to justifiably chew him out for his behaviour, but surprisingly, Harley gets there first.
"Peter wasn't angry at you."
And that, Tony wasn't expecting. He's unsure of what to say, looking up to find Harley's grave but earnest expression.
"He wasn't mad," Harley continues quietly, "just scared. That's why he didn't call you. He didn't want you to be disappointed in him, despite - despite what happened earlier. I know you talked to him, but I wanted you to understand."
Tony is silent, mind already returning to his panicked flight across the city, to listening to Peter's choked words and seeing his condition from the vitals Harley sent him and being entirely incapable of getting there any faster. He remembers landing unceremoniously in the alleyway where Peter lay, in the bracket of Harley's arms, only to see Peter's eyes roll back in his head and his body - so broken and bloody - go limp.
Harley had cried out, but Tony hadn't had time to reassure him as he pulled Peter away from him and took off once more, the kid's dead weight and motionless form against his chest. The entire flight - too long, too long - had been agonising, Peter's head lolling against Tony's shoulder and his arm dangling limply.
He hadn't woken up once, not even a groan or a flutter of the eyes.
"I understand." Tony whispers now, voice cracking. He coughs slightly, before saying, "He's too good for me, not being mad even when I deserve it."
Johnny very much looks like he wants to agree, but once again, Harley interjects. "That's not true," is all he says, face weary.
Tony, albeit warmed by Harley's innate belief in him, doesn't think he'll ever agree. Not when his kid is undergoing emergency surgery from injuries no even knows how he received, all because he'd been furious at Tony. And Tony had deserved it.
God, he wishes Pepper were here, and Morgan. Pepper's seen the worst of him, and had still returned, still loves him. He needs the endless, admirable patience that she has for his antics and his outbursts, the unconditional positive regard. She and Morgan had been due to come home in three days after staying at Pepper's mother's for a week, but Tony's call - though brief - had hurried their return.
He has no idea what to do with himself while they wait. He can hardly look at the sandwich that Happy provides him with, for fear of throwing up from his own nerves, though he downs his coffee in mere seconds. No one else seems sure what to do either, low murmurings arising and then ceasing completely.
Time passes, and they wait. It's all they can do.
It's half seven in the morning - so many, too many hours after Peter was first been admitted - that the dam finally breaks. Finally, finally, finally.
Helen, miracle worker Helen, emerges from where they'd been operating on Peter, her face tired, shadows lining her eyes and her clothes rumpled. Tony's incredibly grateful that she'd clearly taken the time to clean herself of blood, as her hands are spotless and she's changed out of her surgical attire, which would only have been an awful reminder of what occurred.
Tony's heart leaps into his throat, and his blood begins to rush in his ears as she approaches them. He can't fathom what he'll do, what any of them will do, if she brings anything but good news, if the unthinkable has happened, if Peter -
"He's going to be okay." Helen smiles wearily at them all, and it's like-
A huge surge of relief fills through the room instantaneously. The tension rushes out of them in one great release of emotion, and Tony feels his breath hitch as he looks around at everyone, at their exhilaration, and -
He breathes for what feels like the first time since Harley called him at 2.22am.
Because Peter's going to be okay. And that's all that matters.
Helen keeps talking, and she's listing off Peter's injuries and how difficult they had been to fix - though Tony doesn't want to devote any of his mental capacity to what could have wrong and how close they had been to losing Peter - and she reminds them that he still has to recover, albeit much faster than a non-enhanced individual. However, the overall prognosis is overwhelmingly positive, and Tony catches himself meeting May's gaze from across the room.
To his great surprise, she's already looking at him, with no trace of hostility or resentment. Instead, she's smiling that wonderful smile of hers with tears in her eyes as she crosses the room and pulls him into a tight embrace.
She doesn't say anything, but he can feel her forgiveness. Our kid's alive. He's going to be okay; it feels like.
They still have a lot to discuss, but for now, he's overjoyed.