Aftermath
Tony’s POV
After saying goodnight and ‘I love you’ to Peter, he turns the main light off in his bedroom (leaving the lamp on). He then makes his way downstairs. His heart is bursting with an overwhelming feeling of love, one both confusing and satisfying to a man who’s been deprived of such a feeling for most of his life. He feels like he’s flying, like he’s in the suit and going higher and higher until he leaves the atmosphere. Yet, this love protects him like his mask, and he can breathe just fine.
Being a ‘dad’, or whatever he was to Peter, was something he came to realise was a thing he’s always needed and wanted. He wished his younger self could know that one day he’d grow up and there would be a whole group of people that liked… no, loved him for him and not for the fortune that he’s associated with.
Of course, he’s incredibly privileged with his life. He knows he’s one of the luckiest people alive. He has yachts, big houses (a few of them), private planes, and pretty much anything he could ever want, but the one thing he wanted the most was something he thought he could never have. A loving family.
He’s stuck in a bubble as he trots downstairs, a smile tugging at the ends of his mouth. He’d look like a clone of himself to anyone who didn’t know that Peter was back, but he didn’t care. Peter is home, he helped all those kids get safe, and they’ve got tombstone behind bars for the rest of his sad life. Life’s good, he thinks, as he steps inside his lab and breathes in the fresh air for what feels like the first time in a millennium.
He's in the eye of a hurricane. Even if he can breathe a sigh of relief now when he’s stood in his lab alone, so much is still happening around him. There’s no doubt that Peter will be shaken up about this. Tony knows he’ll try his best to help him, but there is always a small chance that it’ll never be enough, and he’ll be changed forever. He sits in the peace for a while, until he goes upstairs to show the team he’s not coping with drink this time and, in actuality, he’s doing quite well.
That’s when the glass shatters. The hurricane surrounds him at full blast once again.
Three nurses and as many doctors are stood around Miles’ bed, performing CPR on him. His heart has stopped beating. The injuries were too much for him to endure. They’re pressing down on his chest, hard, in a rhythm Tony’s not sure he’d be able to replicate. All he can do is stand there and stare. He can’t do anything to help. He looks over at Miles’ dad, who can’t see him because of the tears streaming down his face. Tony wants to go over to help but it feels like there are chains wrapped around his legs, keeping him from going anywhere. His own heart feels like it needs CPR, the way it beats in his chest. His legs are weak.
The CPR continues.
Thirty chest compressions pass. The nurse tries a rescue breath. The ECG monitor stays still. There’s little movement there, just a flat line.
Just as he sees the heartbreak in the doctor’s eyes, who’s seconds away from calling it, the machine beeps and Miles’ heart jumps back into action. He’s such a fighter. His heart starts again and everyone in the room all collectively sigh. Tony sees this kid, knows he was similar in age to Peter when he started doing this, and he feels sick. He doesn’t want to use Miles as an example, but all he wants to do is run upstairs and tell Peter that he needs to burn the suit.
All he can think about is how much he loves him. He watches Miles open his eyes a few hours later, the way he clings to his father. They both cry and express their love for one another, and Tony preens. It’s all he’s ever wanted, isn’t it? He wants to feel all of that love they do, every hour of the day. He wants to get lost in the small moments, wants to visit Peter’s school, and show off all his awards to his friends who visit. He wants to post photos of him on his social media, bragging to millions that this kid is his.
But he can’t. Peter is May’s. He’ll never love Tony like he does May. She’s been his mom ever since Peter lost his, and Tony can’t take that away. He can’t prick Peter out of his apartment and force him to live with him.
…Maybe she’d let him ‘coparent’. Although, if he was her, he’d get Peter as far away from him as he could. From her view, everything that has happened recently is all his fault for getting Peter involved in this type of life.
He gets a text from Happy that finally takes him away from the small seat in the corner of the hospital room, the same one he’s been sat in for hours (right in the storm. He’s surprised he hasn’t been swept away). Happy tells him that Peter’s aunt needs to see him now.
“Yeah, I’m coming,” he says to nobody, just to the screen of his phone. He holds it so tight it slips out of his hand. When he looks up after picking it up, Happy’s stood in the doorway with May Parker by his side. She smiles, only once, and walks over to him. She offers a hand to help him up. He doesn’t take it. “I’m sorry, May. I-”
She furrows her eyebrows. She has a box in her arms, wrapped perfectly it could be made by machines. He thinks it’s for Peter until he sees his name written on the name tag. “You saved my son’s life, Tony, there’s no need to be sorry. You also have no idea how much he adores you. I kind of think it goes both ways. You’re welcome to come and visit whenever. Just let me know. Just so I don’t have to cook. Ask Peter, you won’t want to go through that.”
He doesn’t imagine she’d say the same if she knew about Spider-Man. He doesn’t tell her, but he knows Peter should soon. It’s not fair to keep her in the dark like he does. “…He’s upstairs, uh, in my room. I had to make sure he had the best bed. I’ll tell Friday to call him down.”
Peter’s down moments later. He looks healthy. God bless that healing of his.
“Hey May,” he smiles.
She runs to him and wraps her arms around him. He melts into her, rests his head against her chest and looks so relieved that she’s here. She was his world in every way possible. Well, maybe she’d be the ocean and Tony would be the land. That’s a 70/30 split, right? Tony had some pull at least, he knew that. He wasn’t going to lie to himself. But he was always going to be hers first and his second.
It’s ridiculous that he’s jealous of the relationship between Peter and his aunt, but Tony’s just concluded that he’s ‘dad’, and that he’s always wanted it. How can he be Peter’s support when his lifeline was already here? Tony liked her, he really did, but right now he wanted to tell her this was an ‘avengers only’ spot, and then take Peter into a hug and replace her.
But that was spiteful. Selfish. Inappropriate. That was the Tony he has left behind when he threw his last drink in the bin. The second the alcohol left his lips and was replaced by left over glasses of water that Peter left in the lab, he knew he’d be better. Afghanistan set him on the course and Peter was the finish line. He was finally who he wanted to be.
Now that he knows this life he wants to live, not truly living it feels like a curse that’s haunting him every waking hour of the day. But that’s not May Parker’s fault, it’s his brain. His brain that won’t be quiet, that’s pushing so hard against his temple it gives him a headache. He looks away as Peter and May talk over what happened to him, knows his name will pop up eventually, and walks away before he says something stupid.
He stands alone in the corridor and tugs at the ribbon on the package. Opening it, he sees a card leant over a framed photo of him and Peter. The card is generic, just one you’d find all over shop floors. But the message inside is anything but. It’s heartfelt, and Tony’s lying if he says it doesn’t make him tear up.
‘Peter’s been a fan of you for all his childhood, even if he never admits that. He’s loved you since he knew what science was. When I was first told he met you, I never could imagine you’d replicate that love. But you did. You treat my Peter as your own, and it makes me so happy that he’s got that in his life. Thank you, Tony. I am entirely grateful for everything you do. Thank you so much.
Love May.’
So… maybe the jealously was irrational and his brain was working against him. He re-reads the message and tucks it back into the box. He wipes away his tears before anyone sees. Him and his feelings might be more harmonious than they’ve ever been before, but that didn’t mean he wanted people to see it. He makes his way upstairs and places the photo on his bedside table. Front and centre, so it’s one of the first things he’ll see when he wakes up in the morning. His kid. Right there.
He then decides to go check on Miles.
That’s when the glass shatters. The hurricane hits him with full force once again.
The wound had begun to bleed again even after all the bandages and the pressure and all the things you’re supposed to do after a gun shot. The blood loss was too fast for them to subdue at first. When it finally stopped, his body was tinted blue, and he was far too stiff for anyone’s liking. He suffered hypovolemic shock and fell straight into a coma, where he remains in until now.
That poor kid.
He sees Miles’ father sat by his bed. He realises he never got his name.
“Mr Morales,” he says, offering his hand to shake.
“It’s Davis, actually. Miles took his mother’s last name,” he replies, taking the hand. “But call me Jefferson, or Jeff, it’s what people usually call me.”
Jeff doesn’t look at Tony when he speaks. They only make eye contact for a brief moment as they shake hands. As soon as they let go, his eyes stray away and go straight back to Miles. He takes his young boy’s hand and gently kisses it. He doesn’t say a word, but Tony knows he’s praying to anyone that something will work- that some higher power will wake Miles up and keep him out of danger for the rest of his life.
He knows because he’d be thinking the same.
“It feels like it’s all my fault. Did you think that too?” He says, eyes still stuck on Miles. He’s holding his hand so tight, wanting it to respond to him. He’s squeezing it. But Miles only lies there, unmoving, and stiff. It makes Tony feel sick. He can’t imagine the way Jefferson feels.
Tony feels bad comparing the feeling to him losing Peter to a dad with his biological son who he’s loved all his life. But no matter when or how a child you love came into your life, losing them would feel the same.
It’s what special about family. It doesn’t rely on blood alone. Family is who you make it with. It’s people who always love you unconditionally. It’s who you argue you with all the time, but at the end of the day they will always be in your life. Family is serenity. It’s the sun rising in the morning, the bees pollinating every flower. Family is the moon in the sky. It’s what keeps you alive.
Tony regrets not sinking into that feeling when he knows he’s had it for so long, and it only keeps getting bigger. His family has loved him all along, it’s now time he showed it too.
“I did. I blamed myself,” Tony says. “The second we found out he was taken; it was all I could think about. He was taken because of my name, so I told myself that if he was hurt then it was on me,” he says. He takes a breath and remembers how awful it was. He shakes his head before he starts crying again and places what he hopes is a comforting hand over Jeff’s shoulder. “But I was wrong.”
Jeff looks at him, smiles sadly and lets Miles’ hand drop from his. “I’m not so sure it’s the same for me. I should’ve left the police force as soon as he was born. You couldn’t exactly drop your name, could you? But I could’ve stopped it.”
“I could’ve taken him to the highest or most secluded place on earth. I certainly have the money for it,” Tony tells him. He pulls up a nearby seat and tugs it closely to Jeff’s seat. He takes a seat and looks up at the ceiling, remembers how it felt when Peter was lost. He looks over at Miles and sighs sadly. “It’s neither of our faults that this happened to our kids. It’s only those who took them at fault.”
Jeff smiles, looks like he barely believes him. But in times like these, just a little goes a long way. He feels better than he did before and that’s fine for now. “Thank you, Mr Stark.”
“Call me Tony.”
Peter’s POV.
May and Cooper are sat to the left of him, their eyes focused on the TV screen that Peter hasn’t got enough energy left in him to watch. Happy’s sat to his right, his arm around the back of the sofa and the edge of his fingers resting over May’s shoulder. Peter is still tied, having not rested enough before in Tony’s comfortable bed. He could so easily place his head on Happy’s shoulder and fly away. To sleep for days is all he needs right now. However, he’s not so sure if Happy, who really didn’t like him before (and he’s not sure of his current opinion), would appreciate it.
The TV drains on, and Peter’s head starts to feel too heavy on his shoulders. He moves it in a circle, tries to wake himself up, but before he knows it his eyes flutter shut and Happy’s chest becomes a very comfy pillow. It’s too comfy to move and then he’s adjusting the way he’s sat. Then he just might happen to lie down completely with his legs over May and Cooper and most of his torso on Happy…
…
Then he might just ‘subconsciously’ tug on Happy’s arms so they’re around him. It’s so warm. Feels like Christmas day when everything is bright and happy. Happy hugs nicely. He stays still and Peter drifts away.
When he wakes up again, the TV’s no longer on and the only light left on is a lamp beside the couch. May and Cooper are no longer there, their presence replaced by a pile of pillows that his legs rest on top of. But Happy’s arms are still there. His head rests on the cushions behind him. He snores loudly. Peter can’t help but smile.
He must’ve wiggled around too much that it woke him up. He shifts slightly, before his eyes open and he looks down at Peter and groans. His eyes wince at the light. He moves one hand to rub it over his face but puts it back over Peter as soon as he’s finished. “Kid?” he says. His voice is rough like sandpaper down his throat. He sounds tired. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah. Sorry for waking you up.”
Happy blinks, sitting up slightly. Peter goes with him. He finally pushes himself away from him, his arms falling away leaving Peter feeling cold all of a sudden. “No problem,” Happy says. He looks down at his watch. Peter can see it from where he’s sat. It’s 1AM. “You were pretty tired, huh?”
“Guess a kidnapping will do that to you,” Peter laughs. He means it as a joke but Happy’s face falls. He’s never seen the man look so dejected. It tugs at Peter’s heartstrings. He didn’t mean to upset him. But, since he never knows when to stop, his mouth opens again. “What? You really missed me? Didn’t think you had it in you. Thought I was a pain in your ass.”
Happy sighs. “I missed you,” he says. And Peter guesses that says it all. “You are a pain in my ass, but so are most of the people in my life. Tony annoys me twenty-four seven.” He smiles softly and runs a hand through his hair. “I just can’t believe I let you go with them.”
“I had it sorted.”
“…There’s something more about you, isn’t there?” Happy asks. “Something both you and Tony are keeping to your chest. I know you’re a smart kid. But the way you fought there…”
Peter sighs. “Yeah. I’m Spider-Man.” Happy blinks. Peter looks over at Happy and he’s quiet. Too quiet for Peter’s liking. He pokes Happy in the cheek and he still doesn’t respond. “Happy? Are you okay?” He still doesn’t say anything. Just stares. “Hello? Did you pass out?”
“You’re joking,” he says, but he doesn’t say it like a question. He says it like a statement. He says it like he knows he means it. Rolling his eyes, he sits up properly with good posture and looks Peter in the eye. “So, yeah, come on. Tell me the truth. Did Tony set you up with training or something?”
“Happy,” Peter says. “I’m Spider-Man.”
“Sure.”
Peter rolls his eyes. He gets up from where he’s sat and watches how Happy’s eyes trace him. He steps over to the wall and flicks on the light. The whole room illuminates and Peter’s still for a second as he takes in the mess. Tony was going to kill him. He had other things on his mind right now, though, like convincing a stubborn, big headed, bodyguard that he, a kid which was once the most annoying thing on his plate, was actually a superhero he’s praised now and again.
Peter puts his hand on the side of the wall, raises his eyebrow as to tell Happy ‘watch this’. Then he’s walking up the wall and sitting above Happy on the ceiling. “I stick to walls. I’m Spider-Man,” he says. Happy takes it in. He shakes his head and looks horrified. But, then again, he is a creepy mutant. Peter gets it. It freaks himself out sometimes.
“And somehow you get more annoying,” Happy says, with a roll of his eyes. He’s silent. He’s been like that for a while, and he keeps doing it. That’s what is annoying, not him. “Would you get down from there?”
Peter drops down, lands right back where he was on the couch. He grins. “Don’t feel bad about keeping Cooper and Ned safe. That’s what I wanted,” he says. “I planned it. You didn’t ‘let’ me. So, yeah.”
“But you’re still a kid, Peter. Even if you’re this freaky spider-man, my job was still to keep all of you safe,” he says.
Peter smiles, “You really love me.”
“Oh shut up,” Happy rolls his eyes. He asks Friday to turn off the lights and opens his arms up. Peter takes the bait and falls back into the same spot he woke up in. It does take him a while to prop his legs back up on the pillows. Happy waits for him. Then, when they’ve been sat like that for a while in silence, he takes a deep breath. “I do.”
“Hm?”
“Don’t make me say it.”
Peter laughs. “Okay, Happy. Love you too.”
In the morning.
“Have you told your aunt that you’re Spider-Man?” Is the first sentence Peter hears when he wakes up later that morning, when he’s finally rested again. Peter twirls in his sleep, tries to get back into that lovely deep sleep stage. Happy pokes him like he did that night before. He ignores it and groans louder. “Parker,” he says, “wake up.”
“Leave me alone,” Peter mumbles, but then he rudely poked so hard that he gasps. Even the criminals he stops aren’t as cruel as this. He finds himself on the floor when he feels conscious again. Sitting up, he looks at Happy and frowns. “What?”
“Does your aunt know?”
“No, she doesn’t.”
“Don’t you think you should?” Happy asks him. He has a far off look on his face, one that makes Peter wonders if he’s thinking of May. They have been looking close lately, sharing little looks he doesn’t like. Peter does want May to move on, she’s been doing this by herself for too long and he wants her to feel good. But he can’t help but find it awkward thinking of Happy and her together. He’d have to get over it by the look in his eyes. That look was one he saw in many people. That look was love. “She’s constantly worried about you. About those bruises that litter your arms. She loves you, Peter. I don’t want to manipulate you into doing anything you don’t want to but think about it. Okay?”
Peter nods, a twisting feeling in his gut. He keeps her out of it because he wants to keep her safe. He keeps her in the dark because he’s afraid of her worrying about him every second of every day. But by not telling her does that mean it makes it worse? When he’s out patrolling will she think he’s somewhere else? Does it make her feel worse than she ever did before? “I will do.”
“Okay,” Happy smiles. He gets up and is in comfy, old, pyjamas. Peter stifles a chuckle. “Right, then. See you later, Spider-boy.”
“It’s Spider-Man,” he calls after him as he walks away.
Tony’s POV
Tony’s in the lab working on a stronger Spider-Man suit. He’s ignored Peter since Friday told him he was awake. Tony’s been so paranoid that he’d somehow die or randomly combust that he’s set up codes with Friday that can track his every move when he’s in the tower. He doesn’t want to face him as Miles is in a coma, and nobody, not even him, has let Peter know. If Peter found out he wasn’t okay, then he’d freak out over the fact that Miles was in pain. Then he’d be mad at Tony that he didn’t tell him. Tony figures he hasn’t got the heart to upset him right now, but he doesn’t want to be the one that ‘rips of the band-aid’. Why can’t it be on someone else’s shoulders for once?
So much for wanting to be the kid’s only ‘parent’. If he can’t even tell him his friend is hurt, then what use is he?
Tony’s really feeling a drink right now, but he supresses the urge. He’s been good and he’s not going to cut his streak short when he’s come this far. But, damn, he wants it. Badly.
Peter comes down. Tony thinks the sun’s already come up, and that it is early in the day, but he’s not certain about the time. Peter has a smile on his face. He looks healthy. Telling him would ruin that, right? It’s good that he’s not saying anything. Well, he tries to convince himself of the thought at least.
“Hey,” Peter smiles. “We’re having lunch upstairs. Bruce told me to come and get you.”
“You head up, kid. I’ll get some later,” Tony says. He stares at only the suit in front of him, his brain working hard to come up with the safest changes possible to make his kid indestructible. He’ll never get hurt again. Peter tilts his head and walks up to Tony. Tony turns to face him, taking his eyes off his project for two seconds, and notices the worried look. “I’m fine, just working on some things.”
“That can wait,” Peter frowns, “I don’t think I’m going out to patrol for a while.”
“Can I get that in writing?” Tony asks. “Because that’ll be very helpful.”
Peter rolls his eyes and laughs. He steps closer and takes Tony into a hug. He does that a lot now, Tony’s noticed. They’ve had more hugs since he came back then ever before. Tony can’t complain, though. A hug from Peter makes him feel like he’s winning the lottery every single time (not that he needs it, of course).
Tony hugs back, and smiles when Peter puts his chin on his shoulder. He smells like Happy’s aftershave, and that jealous monster comes back ands wonders when the hell they started hanging out so much. “Kid?” he says, when the hug goes on for longer than usual. “Are you trying to guilt trip me.”
“Only if it’s working.”
Tony rolls his eyes and pulls back. He pushes Peter’s shoulder back playfully and looks back at his notes he’s been making since he’s been at work. Peter flicks the back of his head and tries to take the notes. He’s fast enough.
“Tony. I don’t need rocket launchers.”
“You might,” Tony shrugs. “You never know.”
“I don’t,” Peter says. He flicks through the list again and furrows his eyebrow. “What is this? Tony, these new additions are ridiculous. What’s going on?” he asks. He looks more worried than before. Peter has got this kicked puppy kind of face, and Tony always melts at that. He sits back in his seat and takes a deep breath. His heart is beating too fast. It takes over him and makes him feel green in the face. Peter’s staring, his face screwed up in concern, as he steps forward and puts his hand over Tony’s shoulder and squeezes. Tony remembers when this was flipped around. He tries not think about that as it feels like his throat closes up. “Mr Stark?” he asks, his voice panicked and small like he was that kid in Tony’s lab when they first met, when he was scared that he was meeting Tony Stark. A time that feels so long ago but is barely a note in Tony’s long life. “Mr Stark? What’s wrong?”
Tony shakes Peter’s hand away from it. His heart feels like it has shrunk in his chest. He looks away from Peter, not wanting his kid to see him in this state. He turns to the side, falls of his chair. His back hits the wall and then suddenly he’s breathing in and out. In. And out. In. Out. He can’t control it. Is he sure his heart is fine? It felt like a heart attack. It made him feel sick.
His hands try and grasp the air, tries to hold onto anything. His eyes shut, but his hands remain up and ready to grab anything. Suddenly there’s a whole body in front of him but Tony’s too far gone to think it through. Peter’s tucking himself over Tony, putting his arms around him. He can feel Peter’s pulse too, it’s beating about the same rate as his. Maybe faster. He’s worried about him and that makes Tony feel like shit. He shouldn’t make him feel this way.
But as Tony freaks out, the warm presence around him made him feel safe. “Mr Stark, it’s okay,” he whispers. The automatic lights flicker off, the two of them so still that it doesn’t sense them. Peter stays where he is, sat tucked on Tony’s lap like a new puppy (Tony will never stop seeing his kid as a puppy, even in times like these). “It’s going to be fine,” he whispers. Tony’s not sure if that’s right, but he listens anyway. “Breathe,” Peter says. Tony tries his best to. “You can do it.”
“I’m here, Mr Stark. I’m right here,” he says, hugging Tony even tighter. If possible. “I love you,” he says. “I love you, and it’s all going to be okay. It has to be.”
Tony’s eyes open, and all he can see is Peter’s face strained on his. He takes some deep breaths, feels his heart in his chest again finally. He can feel himself, feel Peter’s hand around his. Feels Peter’s breath as well as his. His heart starts to slow. Peter’s heart doesn’t. Tony squeezes his hand. “Sorry,” he whispers. “I- I just can’t lose you, Pete, and I was so close to. ”
“I’m not going anywhere, Mr Stark. I love you, and that means you’re stuck with me.”
Then Tony remembers watching Miles and the way he went from hugging his dad and saying he loved him to falling into a coma in only a few moments. What if that happened to Peter? Because it could. Sure, he was fine now. Wasn’t he? He is happy and healthy but then again moments are fleeting, aren’t they? Peter could die in seconds and then Tony would lose his son.
Then he manages the strength to say it. It might not be the right time. Peter could be mad at him. He will be, most likely. But he can’t keep it to himself anymore. He can’t have Peter here. He can’t lie to him like this.
“Peter,” he whispers.
“Yeah?”
Tony takes a deep breath. He hugs him tighter, maybe it’s because he’s not sure if Peter would want to hug him again. He’s also unsure if he’s being a tad bit dramatic. Would Peter care at all? He just had to dive in the deep end and do it.
Though he has always been afraid of water, hasn’t he?
“Miles is in a coma. They’re not sure if he’s going to wake up.”