Why is this happening.
This was not going well. He wasn’t quite sure what this was, but it wasn’t going in his favor. He shouldn’t have broken in-Pepper warned him, and he didn’t listen,and now he was lying on the floor, without the ability to breathe.
That was not ideal. None of this was really. Find out that you’ve supposedly been dead to the world when you’ve only been kind of brain dead for a year-in which all of his friends assumed he was just dead and buried already-and then take almost two years to fully recover? Not exactly Tony’s dream of a fun time. Then-a particular Tuesday when he was cleaning up the old Stark lab (and maybe working on his new arm despite Pepper’s wishes), FRIDAY had asked him when Peter was coming.
He had forgotten Peter! He didn’t have a clue who FRIDAY was talking about until she reminded him with a video of Spider-Man taking his mask off-and-and then having all of those feelings-and thoughts about him come back to him? Not exactly a good time.
He thought it was just him with the amnesia-but Pepper was the same way.
So he tried to reach out to some people outside of his house-hold of amnesia. No one else remembered him either. Not even Happy-and he had been practically drooling over his aunt. So Tony tried to do his research. He looked for Peter’s registration somewhere-the kid should have been in college by then-but….he wasn’t. He wasn’t in MIT, or anywhere-not even a trade school. Tony checked his highschool.
Not even a record of Peter ever going there. The only sign that the kid existed was Spider-Man, and that was upsetting enough. What was even more upsetting, was what happened when he tried to look for his kid-er, the kid at his apartment. Complete strangers answered the door-strangers who had apparently never heard of a May-or Peter Parker.
Tony found the death record later that night. He spent the rest of that night desperately hoping not to see Peter’s anywhere on that list. It didn’t help him calm down all that much. He found his parents-and presumably his uncles. That was it.
This whole him not existing thing was becoming stressful-Tony couldn’t reasonably think up a good reason as to why Peter would no longer exist-or why nothing would be available about him.
He found nothing. Nothing at all-even when he went to go ask Peter's friend’s-they didn’t know him either-there was nothing hinting at the kids location. Well, except for something very out of place. A lease signed by someone who from the looks of it should have been dead. He had a death record and everything. But somehow, the dead man signed for an apartment.
One Benjamin P. Parker, living in Brooklyn.
Of course that was the first place Tony checked. It had to be Peter, didn’t it? There were a lot of Parker’s, but not a lot of Benjamin P. Parker’s, who happened to have no birth records, or other records of existence past that names death.
He had put Morgan to bed, told Pepper where he was going, and pulled up to the building. He had kindly walked up all of those dingy stairs, and knocked on the apartment door, despite being perfectly able to call him.
And it was Peter. He saw him-he looked right into his eyes-he even talked to him-Peter didn’t answer, but he talked to him.
If he was being honest, he had a whole mentally-prepared speech about avoiding school. That not going into a career he loved, and letting his skill and talent slowly deteriorate wasn’t going to fly with Tony.-and that Peter better have a good excuse for disappearing-and not being in school. It was a bit more parental than Tony would like to admit.
But that’s not what happened. Peter stared him in the face, and slammed the door.
That was not what he had expected to happen-and his knocking afterward went unanswered as well, because Peter had apparently jumped out the window. Tony was-admittedly confused-maybe a little upset by that. He finally found the kid after two years of not knowing him-and he was trying to make this all better-and what did he do? He bolted Spider-Man style, and the only thing Tony could do was go back to his car, and ask FRIDAY to let him in on the Nanny protocol. Instead she had told him it was removed.
Damn Peter, and his love of messing with his protocols. First Peter made him signaling other Avengers for assistance turn into the ‘life alert’ protocol-but now him getting rid of his location? Not really something he was happy about. He couldn’t even track his phone-because the kid didn’t bring it with him.
Tony tried asking for Peter’s location through his suit-and through calling him repeatedly. His calls, and messages went unanswered. Eventually-Pepper got tired of him pacing, and calling, and told him to go back-maybe watch for him for awhile. So Tony did. He sat outside in his car, trying to think of why Peter would be avoiding him-at least until he finally got some information on where he was.
Tracking his phone might not be the best idea-law wise, but teenagers supposedly always had their phones-it was important that Tony knew where Peter was in emergencies. Or in situations like this. He wanted to apologize for not telling him he wasn’t dead. Apparently no one who knew told anyone that didn’t. He was sure a lot of people weren’t happy with him.
He had walked up and down those hallways, texting his phone, and listening until he found the door with the phone behind it.
Peter didn’t answer. He didn’t answer his phone-or his door or-or anything he did to try and contact him-and Tony was pretty sure that was just pettiness. To be honest, it was understandable, Tony would probably be petty if noone thought to keep him updated on a close friend’s (or father figure’s) life-or-death status.
He tried to give him some time. Maybe seeing Tony again after so long was weird for him. Maybe if Tony stopped bothering him constantly he would answer, and things wouldn’t be so awkward between the two of them.
Tony was wrong.
For some reason, Tony thought that waiting for Spider-Man, in his unlocked apartment, like he’d done several times over at his old home, would go down well. It was…empty, basically. There was an unmade bed-hardly any clothes strewn across the closet, and kitchen items. His backpack was the only real sign of current life, and that was because his spider-suit was stuffed inside, poorly hidden. He still somehow thought that it would go over well.
It did not. It really did not.
Peter came in after dark, and he just stood there-even after Tony made that joke about his apartment being bare, and even as he tried to get closer to him-he just stood there with a look on his face he couldn’t quite place. It wasn’t like when the fire in the lab started, and he was overjoyed. It wasn’t like much he’d seen from Peter.
Then Peter uppercut him in the ribs, and ran off without a single word. Maybe he had said something, he wouldn’t know because he was too busy being in pain on the floor.
He just wanted to talk-and now Peter was gone, and he wasn’t sure if he could get up.
Correction, he could get up. He just couldn’t breathe.
Tony laid there, and tried to think about where his pla went completely wrong-what else was he supposed to do? He just wanted to talk-and Pete was being weird about it. What was he supposed to do? Get him in a glue trap?
Maybe. If he did that he wouldn’t be able to hit him-and he’d be forced not to jump out of the window.
Okay-maybe not a glue trap. Maybe like a net. Or something.
Tony sat up-with excessive effort for someone barely peaking fifty-five. Wasn’t his fault he was punched in the ribs. How do the people Peter fight’s get back up? He didn’t hit him that hard-and Tony was struggling to stand-and breathe.
The pain eventually faded-but still. How do those poor bastards get back up-was that a pulled punch? Was he pulling punches with them too? He knew Peter was strong-but fuck-that hurt. He didn’t think he’d hit him-if he did he wouldn’t have gotten so close to him! Why did he hit him anyway?! He didn’t do anything punch-worthy…today.
There had to be something wrong, didn’t there? Peter was dodging him at every turn, and he hit him-there had to be something else besides him not being present for the past…three? Three years? Yeah-it had to be more than Peter being upset with him.
If only he had someone to fill him in-that wasn’t going to uppercut him in the ribs. Tony stood in the middle of Peter’s empty room-apartment, and tried to think of someone who might know. His A.I. system might know more than most-but he doubted that it’d listen to him. His suit was his-and it had no reason to tell Tony anything-what was he going to do? Threaten it? It’d probably suffocate him for his trouble.
He could ask whoever lived where he kept going to. The apartment in the next building over? There was probably someone there who could tell him about Peter-er, Benjamin Parker.
So that’s what he did. He walked nextdoor, and knocked on the door that he (EDITH) remembered from that first day of looking. The woman who answered the door did not look happy to be doing so.
It was probably because it was past ten.
The conversation did not go well. The minute he had said that he was looking for him, she had told him that he didn’t live there-that he was a friend, and that he lived somewhere else. She didn’t say where-even though Tony knew already-she just affirmed that it wasn’t there, and that he should be there by now. When he tried to ask her if she knew where he may be, she just started to question him from behind the chained door. Who he was-why he was looking for him-all things he did not have a story for. The only thing he could come up with was him being his father-or uncle or something-and that obviously was not enough.
By the time she shut the door in his face, he was aware he sounded sketchier than a sketchbook.
It looked like he was going to have to search for him by phone-and foot. With an Ironsuit on. He wasn’t taking a hit like that again without something on. He wasn’t sure what was wrong with Peter, but he wasn’t going to get hurt trying to catch him.
He couldn’t figure out how to help Peter with broken ribs.
They were going to have to have a long talk about college-and when it’s appropriate to hit people when he calmed down-and let Tony speak to him without running off.
He was on the way to his car-hoping to get back to his tower and suit up when his phone went off in his pocket.
After getting punched in the ribs so hard he saw stars-and continuously ignored for what felt like a month, he wasn’t expecting the first message he received from Peter to be ‘My bad’.
It would have to work for now. He could get in his car-and hope for another message (which he didn’t receive) and drive to where Peter’s phone claimed to be. Maybe he’d get lucky, and Peter wouldn’t run-or punch this time. Maybe, when he found him again, they could have a decent-not at all terrifying conversation with him-where he convinced him to maybe try and talk it out.
Or Tony would make a mistake, and Peter would break his bones this time. It was a chance he’d have to take until he got Peter back on his side.
Maybe he’d be happier with him if he bought him something to eat first. It was twelve degree’s outside. Hot chocolate was everyone’s favorite-
No. No stops until he talked to Peter.
When he had Peter out of…wherever, and safe in his car, he could get them both something hot to drink. First, he needed to get Peter in the car-and not die trying-how he was going to do that was still a mystery-but so far it looked like Peter was possibly calmer right now than…that whatever he had been before he hit him.
Maybe he’d just get to talk it out with him. Maybe he can use hot chocolate as a bribe because he doesn’t have any idea what to say to him besides ‘maybe don’t hit me again’.
Either way, he’d have to figure it out soon. He’d be standing in front of him soon enough, and there’s not much room for error.