Chapter 13
Months flew by Peter’s face. He started freshman year of college at Empire State University, caught up in the whirlwind of starting secondary schooling and being a superhero all in one. On Saturdays, he worked at the Stark Towers for a little extra money -- not that Tony minded one single bit, taking every opportunity to soak in his son and make him stay for dinner (which Tony secretly made sure the hours were on payroll, to help pay for his rent). Sundays were for solely Spiderman. Dedicated wholly to the protection of New York’s citizens, Wade and Peter spent every Sunday eradicating crime. Not that he never suited up during the week, especially when there was a threat, but Sunday was special to Peter to hand himself over to the people. What he really loved to do.
Tony took longer than Peter thought to detect his new schedule change. October had reared her chilly head, the trees turning orange, yellow, and red, when Peter realized his Sunday routine was ruined.
It started with so many drones in Queens that his Spidey-Senses were constantly going off. He had to take the subway halfway across the city to even change into his suit, let alone being totally unable to swing from his apartment without getting seen.
“Ugh!” Wade scoffed as he brought his head back in from the window. One of the drones whizzed by the window, high up off the ground and above Peter’s seventh-story apartment. “That’s the sixth one I’ve seen today!”
Peter waved his hand at him, trying to focus on the calculus problem that laid in front of him.
“I know.” Peter sighed, giving up and leaning back in his chair. “He noticed that I patrol more and am active on Sundays. I’ll have to switch it up, maybe Thursday nights because I don’t have class until 10am, but then again I-”
“You shouldn’t have to work around your father’s drones. And lord knows I’m fucking tired of it.” Wade said in that smarmy, all-knowing voice and Peter whipped back to give him a hard glare. He felt bad that Wade had to avoid these drones too, as their dating life had become public knowledge, so he was spending more time at Sister Margaret’s instead of their apartment.
“I wouldn’t have to if Norman would have just stayed at that psych hospital up in Manhasset and just taken his meds like he’s supposed to. Took me forever to find a place that would actually take him, let alone guard him.” Peter groaned, hands grabbing his face.
“You also wouldn’t have to if your dad wasn’t a big giant flaming pile of shi-” The hard frown from Peter shut Wade up. “Maybe we should move. I’ll look on Apartments.com. With your Stark salary we should be able to afford some nicer places.”
A silence overfell them as Wade stole Peter’s laptop, looking for new apartments. Peter didn’t necessarily want to move but didn’t think it was the worst idea. By the end of the night, Wade had applied to five new apartments, all of which were more expensive than the one they lived in now. Two of them were in Brooklyn, two in Manhattan, and the last in Yonkers.
“I don’t really want to move.” Peter finally grumbled once he finished his math homework, and Wade simply raised his eyebrows.
“What’re we gonna do then?” A question Peter had been contemplating for weeks, he leaned forward and trailed his fingers across Wade's shoulders.
“I guess just keep switching our schedules. Keep him on his toes as much as he keeps me on mine.”
~
Two Thursdays later Peter was camping out on a rooftop when the police walkie clued him in on a possible bank robbery closeby. Peter dealt with the whole bank robbery bit at least once every couple of months, and he was secretly a little excited for the activity. He made his way down the building to the street level while calling Wade and letting him know that he was going into action.
The robbery itself was not terrible, a couple of junkies with some guns trying to get a couple of dollars for their next hit. What was bad about the whole situation was Tony’s drones were on Peter the second the jig was up. The police cuffed the robbers and Peter ensured everyone was okay and didn’t need any medical attention when he heard the familiar whir of the remote robot.
Peter cursed before he even saw the damned machines, immediately flinging his way into action and fleeing the scene. He swung through the buildings in Queens, using methodical shot after shot of his webs to get farther away from the threat chasing him.
Wade popped up on his comm.
“You’ve got three on your tail and I’ve seen at least a dozen more-”
“I know!” Peter grunted through the physical exertion, cutting Wade off across the comms.
Tony had picked up that Spiderman changed his schedule quickly, only two weeks after the switch up. Peter cursed his father in his head, trying his hardest to evade those stupid drones.
“I. Fucking. Hate. These. Things.” Peter punctuated each word, taking a hard left down towards East Manhattan, where he would be able to slink into the subway system.
Wade was able to get his hands on a couple of them, but they were notoriously difficult to catch up with in the first place and then even harder to destroy.
It took Peter more than four hours to finally shake or smash the rest of the drones, and in those hours Peter swore up and down that he was going to give crime fighting up and give Tony what he wanted.
He was briefly thankful it was just Tony’s drones and not members of the Avengers chasing after him, and he was beyond grateful that it wasn’t Tony himself. Peter was too quick for a lot of the Avengers to keep up with him. Tony’s thrusters could keep up, and Thor could sometimes meet his speed when he was using Mjolnir, but the others weren’t equipped with materials to make them as fast as he was.
By the time Peter got back to his apartment, the sun was already rising in the sky. It was a late patrol to begin with, which was where he went wrong with an eight a.m. advanced calculus class.
While Peter was in the shower, Wade stood by him and brushed his teeth.
“You could just skip.” Wade suggested with a mouthful of toothpaste.
Peter scowled under the hot water at Wade’s words. He would not be skipping class, wasting the money that he was getting from the university for his scholarship, and he was frankly a little offended that Wade even suggested it.
“Are you giving me a mean look in there?” Wade asked, following up, and Peter’s face relaxed a bit into a smile.
“The meanest look I could muster.” Peter responded and as he heard Wade’s laugh, he turned the shower off and grabbed his towel.
“C’mon Petey, you were up all night. Are you even going to be able to learn very well under these conditions?” Wade had a little bit of a point, as Peter’s anxiety was already thrumming a hole into his chest cavity, but he shook his head.
“You know I have to go. Besides, I’m back early today and will be able to nap before we have to go over to the mansion to help Charles.” Wade made a face at Peter’s excuses before he rolled his eyes and decided not to press the issue further.
It took Peter longer than normal to get to his class, traffic worse than usual. The subway was crowded, filled with commuters and college students stuffed to the brim, which made Peter want to crawl out of his skin.
Anxiety gripped the edges of Peter’s peripheral eyesight, tunnel-visioning him as he finally got into his classroom. The lecture was long, and tedious, and Peter found that even though he said he wasn’t going to skip, he didn’t learn a single thing. When calculus was over, he went to the bathroom for a second to try and shake himself off.
Something was nipping at his heels, nagging his hindbrain, telling him that something was wrong and that he needed to be on high alert. It was just from the lack of sleep, though, and Peter tried to shake it off, splashing some more cool water on his face before heading off to his next class.
He sat in the first row of his Introductions to Atmospheric Physics class when it really started to settle in. The base of his spine vibrated with apprehension, a turbulence that unsettled his entire body and mind. He checked his phone multiple times, scrolled through the news, and found nothing that clued him in to anything going on.
You okay?
Peter texted Wade, only slightly relieved when Wade responded with a thumbs up and a picture of Ellie and Charles working on one of the new X-men initiatives. He shifted his hips in his seat, trying anything to make himself more comfortable, but to no avail he came to the conclusion that he might just need to leave class and go home.
Just as Peter mustered up the confidence to leave his class, a shrill beep set off on the desk next to him. Another student’s phone was blaring, and before he knew it, every single phone in the classroom was screaming.
Something was wrong.
Peter pulled out his phone, and read what he thought was going to be an amber alert or something along those lines, but he frowned when he was greeted with a nondescript alert.
The New York City Government has initiated the Wireless Emergency Alert Notification system. A shelter in place warning is issued, effective 12:01 p.m. on October 29th, 2025. Take immediate shelter indoors and wait for further instructions.
The words hadn’t even begun to make sense to Peter before chaos ensued. A cry from a girl a couple rows behind him started a chain reaction that resulted in the professor rounding students up and practically begging them to calm down and stay away from the windows. After a sharp inhale, Peter found the opportunity to get out of the classroom and into the hallway. People were running everywhere to the bathrooms, into classrooms, outside.
“Stay inside everybody!” Peter ran towards the door and tried to usher people back in.
“Have to go get my girlfriend!” Somebody yelled, trying to get past him, bashing into his shoulder.
“You are safest inside! Please!” Peter tried again, herding students and professors back into the building as he pointed down the hallway.
“Get down to the basement lab and stay away from the windows.” People seemed to listen to Peter, rushing down the hallway to get to somewhere safe. Of course some didn’t listen, pushing past him and into the outdoors, where Peter was greeted with an eerie orange sky.
He took out his phone to try and dial Wade, but there was no cell phone service. After the alert the cell phone towers must have gone down.
Peter dug into his backpack for the emergency satellite phone he carried, before he turned it on and it immediately started ringing.
“Wade!” Peter answered the phone, hearing static on the other side.
“HYDRA --” Static cut Wade out, and Peter’s eyebrows furrowed as he rushed his way behind a building and into a secluded alley. In a second he was out of his clothes and pulling on his spider suit, all while keeping the phone to his ear.
“Bronx, Charles and I--” Cut off again. Peter zipped his suit and pulled his mask on before he shot off towards the Bronx. He was in Upper Manhattan, where Empire State University’s classes were located, and was closer than if he had been at home in Queens.
“Wade, I’m on my way.” He shouted through the phone hoping that Wade could hear him. “Just need a general location.”
It took a couple of seconds for Wade’s voice to come in through the phone.
“Off Hutchinson River Parkway-” The phone cut out, satellite signal lost, but at least Peter had a location. He grunted as he switched directions to go towards where Wade was talking about, and as he got closer, the reality of the situation sunk deep into his bones.
In the heart of the Bronx, HYRDA was all-out assaulting the streets of New York City. Explosions ripped through the streets as Peter weaved through the buildings, dodging relentless gunfire and projectiles.
“What the fuck is happening?!” Peter hollered over the comms, not able to see Wade in any of the battle. Now that he was closer in vicinity to Wade, he was able to respond.
“HYDRA found the location of a secret SHIELD lab and decided they wanted to take down half the city with it.” Wade’s voice was fuzzy and with too much static, but Peter could finally understand. “Chuck, Negasonic and I are in the lab, need you up there to keep things under control.”
It was an absolute warzone.
HYDRA had hit hard and fast -- armored transports rolling through the streets, foot soldiers storming buildings, the neon glow of the experimental weapons from SHIELD’s labs lighting up the streets. Screams echoed down the alleys of the tall buildings, only shadowed by nearby explosions and gunfire.
Peter did what he could. Webbed multiple guys, took down as many HYDRA vehicles as he could, all while keeping a keen ear out for anybody that needed help. After a near miss and a hard landing, HYDRA agents surrounded Peter, his chest heaving with his breaths.
“Alright guys, let’s talk about this.” Peter tried, breathless. “You drop your weapons, go home, rethink your life choices-- Maybe try yoga, I hear it’s great for stress.”
Their answer? A volley of green bullets.
Peter leaped just in time, narrowly avoiding the shots. He landed on a balcony, crouching low, webbing down to get their guns. His heart was pounding. He needed back-up, this was not sustainable and he was close to the brink of exhaustion.
“Incoming Avengers--” Wade’s choppy warning made Peter pause for a second. Were they going to help or try to capture him?
An arrow whizzed past Peter, his spidey-senses too confused with the fighting to have adequately warned him. Above him on a rooftop, Hawkeye was shooting down at HYDRA. An explosion originated from the arrow, the agents scattering from the explosion and giving Peter a chance to breathe.
“Boy am I happy to see you!” Peter cheered, raising his fists and shaking them towards Clint. A small wave before he continued shooting let Peter know that he was there to help. Hulk was the next to show up, smashing into the rest of the armored cars and taking them out before they could cause any more destruction.
Peter swung through the buildings, disorienting soldiers one by one and webbing them up. Sirens rang in the distances, staying far away from the fight but helping civilians get out, taking some of the load off of Peter. He’d swung a couple more to safety, on the edges of the battle, before swinging right back in.
“Coming up to meet you, Petey, got everything set down here.” Wade’s voice rang in Peter’s ears as he webbed another soldier’s legs, incapacitating him. Things were starting to turn the other way when he heard the familiar boom of his father’s repulsor blasts. Peter looked up just in time to see the gold and red of the Iron Man suit rocketing overhead, right into the action and past Peter.
Peter held his breath, knowing that he had been seen, but Tony did not turn around to apprehend. Steve was close behind him, shield raised, barreling through the crowd of HYDRA that Peter didn’t want to deal with yet.
Peter silently thanked any god that would accept it, and continued fighting. They eventually all met towards the botanical gardens in the center of the Bronx, where Wade and select members of the x-men joined them.
“We need to push them back!” Steve shouted over the pandemonium around them, and Tony nodded in his agreement. “Push them up towards Yonkers and then we’ll be able to take down the rest of them.”
In unison, New York’s finest heroes went to work, starting to corral HYDRA soldiers upwards and away from the more populated New York city. They spanned over a mile, quite some space between each person, but nonetheless making progress. Peter felt pride swell in his chest as they all worked as a team, nobody looking at Peter as if he were a criminal. Everything was going well until what seemed to be the leader of HYDRA’s assault, standing tall and proud in some sort of high powered exo suit, stalked towards Peter.
If Peter had been well rested, on the top of the game, he wouldn’t have allowed himself to get cornered like this. The man had obviously done it on purpose, isolating Peter and pushing him towards the alley he now found himself backed up in. The cool brick on his back did nothing to help the burn of his lungs.
“You put up a good fight, Spiderman.” The high-ranking goon growled through his helmet. “But it’s the end of the line now.”
BANG.
It all happened so fast that Peter didn’t even have the energy to react. The impact slammed into his side, a sharp, searing pain that Peter had never experienced before. His breath hitched, knees buckling as he collapsed to the pavement. The world around him blurred, noises of the battle fading into a dull hum.
He barely managed to get his hand up to engage his comms.
“Wade.” Peter croaked out, his other hand cradling his injury and feeling warmth pool around his fingers. “I’m hit.”
He couldn’t hear Wade’s response, huddled to the ground curled around himself.
Tony had been hunting Spiderman for months. The masked vigilante had been reckless, unpredictable, a danger since he’d let the Green Goblin go from Stark Towers. After this, he was going to apprehend him and then figure out what to do with him. His working plan was forcing him into a contract, where he could only put the suit on with a tracker and had to keep the Avengers apprised at all times of his locations and actions.
But that wasn’t the problem right now with HYDRA running rampant through the Bronx. He would let Spiderman help, but after he would deal with it.
That was until Deadpool had become deadly and frantic.
“HE WAS HIT! WHERE IS HE?! WHERE IS HE?!” Wade screamed, rampaging through the HYDRA soldiers and the rest of the heroes to find him.
“WHERE’S SPIDERMAN?! SOMEBODY FIND SPIDERMAN, HE’S HURT AND I CAN’T FUCKING FIND HIM-” The hulk intercepted Deadpool, forcing him to the ground and looking at Tony for his response. Steve tried to help mitigate the frantic Deadpool.
Tony lifted himself off the ground into the air to see if he could get Spiderman’s location. He flew over buildings until he finally found what looked to be a blob of red and blue crumpled in an alley.
“Found him!” Tony announced over to Steve, hurrying over to the body on the ground surrounded by a puddle of blood. Tony landed on the ground with a smash, Peter barely even recognizing the noise and vibration on the ground.
Tony kneeled down to the ground, and reached his hand out to turn Spiderman into his back so he could see where he was hurt.
Spiderman groaned in pain, his chest rising and falling entirely too fast, blood soaking through his torn suit.
“Shit.” Tony lamented, pressing his hands firmly into Spiderman’s side to try to stop the bleeding. “Hey- hey, kid, you’re gonna be okay.”
JARVIS scanned Spiderman’s body, confirming that the wound was bad. He needed medical attention now.
“JARVIS, send for a med team. Have Cap escort them here through HYDRA.” Tony heard JARVIS inform Steve about the plan, when Spiderman groaned again, trying to coil back in on himself to help the pain.
“Hey, don’t move, okay? I’m holding pressure. I have the med team coming now. Just hold on.” Tony’s voice was sharp, urgent. His hands shook as he held the pressure on the wound.
“I’m… sorry.” Spiderman’s voice was barely even a whisper, as his breathing became shallow. Tony’s chest tightened as he shook his head. He’d spent so much time thinking of Spiderman as a risk, a problem that needed to be dealt with, a kid playing a hero, but he looked and felt so small under Tony right now.
“No-no, don’t you do that. You don’t apologize. Not now.” Tony turned his head away from the kid. “JARVIS, where’s the med team?!”
“Three minutes out, boss.”
Tony clenched his jaw and looked back down at the boy.
“I’m going to take your mask off so you can breathe.” Tony decided, and Spiderman didn’t even protest as his other hand reached to grab the bottom of his mask.
Pulling that mask off was the worst and best decision of Tony’s life. Spiderman was not just some reckless vigilante, a boy with a dream to be a superhero. Spiderman was not just someone Tony had been trying to arrest for months, treating like a criminal.
Spiderman was his boy. His son.
Peter’s face was pale, listless. He was barely conscious, eyes practically crossed and looking up at his father.
“Peter?” Tony whispered, disbelief and absolute dread spreading through his entire body. It took a moment for the gravity of the situation to really settle in. His son was limp, bleeding out in his arms. “Peter?!”
Tony originally was not going to leave the battle. He was going to have the med team take Spiderman to the hospital while he stayed, but that was not an option anymore.
“Peter, peter hold on. I’m taking you to a hospital. It’s okay. It’s okay, I’m gonna take care of you and get you all fixed up, just stay with me.” Tony pleaded as he readied himself to launch up with his son’s body.
“S-sorry, dad.” Peter whimpered, trying to convey his sorrows, his apologies. He never wanted to do this to Tony. Never wanted to hurt him.
Tony had never gotten to a hospital quicker.
~
Peter heard the commotion before he could see it. It was not close to him, far away enough that he knew it wasn’t occurring in the room he was in. There were beeps, and talking, and laughing from various people and voices from the loud speaker announcing things, and it took Peter longer than he wished to admit to recognize where he was. He moved his arm, trying to feel around him. A scratchy sheet, an uncomfortable bed, something pestering at the back of his head -
He was in a hospital. He hadn’t been in a hospital since Ben had died.
That thought had him hastily sitting up, a cold breath of air ripping into his sore lungs, eyes shot open. Everything was bright for a quick second, and it started to focus. Peter hadn’t comprehended the gravity of his situation until he saw Tony, sitting in a chair against the wall about five feet from his bed, dark circles under his pale eyes.
Tony watched him cautiously. Stayed away, as far as he could, while still being in the room.
Peter lost his breath again.
“Dad-” Peter exhaled the last of his air, a strange mixture of relief and anguish, before he was cut off.
“Three years.” Tony practically whispered, voice full of something close to betrayal. “Three years I have worked beside you. Sometimes against you.” Knocking the chair backwards into the wall causing a clatter, Tony abruptly stood.
“For three years I offered you my mentorship, my help-” A choke from Tony’s throat split up his sentence. “My alliance. My partnership. You rejected me, saying you would never be an Avenger.”
Peter’s eyebrows furrowed as he took in his surroundings. No one else was in the room, or even outside. He was hooked up to an IV fluid bag, the cannula in the crook of his elbow anchored with medical tape. There was a huge window beside him, floor to ceiling, and he realized he must have been at the best hospital in New York City, Mount Sinai near Harlem, about thirty blocks away from the Towers, a whole river across from his apartment. The window overlooked Central Park.
“If I had just pushed then, pushed to have you join me, I would have been working side by side with my son. ” Tony sounded absolutely defeated, and looked disappointed to Peter. A sour taste rose in his throat, and he swallowed it down. “With my boy. And here we are three years later, after I have been… persecuting you over something so senseless.” Anger struck Peter just as the bullet had. Tony pushed on.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” The heartbreak in Tony’s voice spurred little sympathy in Peter’s stomach. “I could have helped you, nurtured you and taught you everything I know-”
Tony’s words cut off with a rapid breath in.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Tony repeated, desperation dripping from every word.
“I-I…” Peter trailed off, words lost on his tongue, stuck in his brain. Everything was both short circuited and infinite resistance between the two, unable to choose just one word, one sentence to say to his father.
“I’ve seen you get blown up!” Tony suddenly erupted, remembering all of the times he’d seen his own son in battle. “Punched, kicked, burned-” Tony’s voice cracked.
“Burned. By me.” Realization dawned on him. An ice cold, blistering down his spine realization that he’d shot his blasters at Spiderman. At Peter. His face lost all of its color, leaving a pale ghost behind in his place.
“I hit you.” Tony stumbled back, regret and shame boiling in the pit of his chest. “I hit you with my blasters. That was the burn on your leg.”
They stared at each other in a heart-wrenching silence.
“I’m so sorry.” Tony’s eyes filled with honest to god tears. Peter found his words at the sight.
“Don’t you see now why I won’t kill?” A hint of disdain in Peter’s tone, a hint of a hurt so deep Tony could barely comprehend it. “My life has been full of it.” A long, pregnant pause. “Death. My parents. My uncle. Innocent people on the sidelines. The ruin of- ” Peter suffocated the sob in his throat before he continued.
“The ruin of it all. The destruction it causes. I could never do that to anyone, even if they’re evil. My life has been one big cluster fuck of deaths and rebirths, including myself-” Peter finally let the cry leave his throat. Let the liquid pool in his tear ducts and flow over to his cheeks. “And now you. A father I was never meant to have; never meant to deserve.”
“Don’t say that!” Tony exclaimed, taking a step closer to Peter but stopping when he saw Peter’s face. “Don't you ever say that.”
“What do you mean?!” Peter cried exasperatedly. “You’ve told me in such words! Called me a traitor, a murderer, hunted me until the brink of exhaustion, leading to this damned injury! Oh, you would have nurtured me so well.” Sarcasm dripped from the words as Peter gripped the tape of the IV and ripped it out of his arm, the fluid from the bag previously infusing into him spilling onto the floor.
“I would have never- ” Peter knew where this statement was going and dreaded it. “Never had called you that if I’d known it was you.”
“That’s the point!” Peter’s voice had raised an octave, and a loud, shrill beep suddenly cut through the air.
“Pete,” Tony tried desperately, holding his arms up. “Please. Don’t hurt yourself. Be angry at me all you want, but don’t hurt yourself.” Tony was looking at the monitor behind him, displaying his continuous heart rate, before Peter ripped all the leads of his chest.
“They just got the bullet out of you, stitched up no less than twenty minutes ago. It took so much anesthesia I was sure you were never going to wake up.” Peter couldn’t help rolling his eyes at that. “Your spleen was lacerated and you lost over two liters of blood. Said it was healing before their eyes but you still would have died of infection with that bullet in you.”
“You know nothing about what I can do.” Peter hissed, eyes dark as they darted to the window. He was leaving before this conversation was over.
“Please, please,” Tony begged, finally rushing over to be next to his son. “You have to let yourself heal more. Your body could still be in shock.” Peter flinched away as Tony tried to set his hand on his shoulder. Peter couldn’t find the strength to open his mouth and respond.
“Steve and…” Tony looked pained to even say the name. “Deadpool are downstairs doing a press conference. They aren’t going to mention you, just the attack. Nobody else was hurt after you. That’s why they aren’t here right now, but I’m sure they’ll be coming back any second, and we can talk about this-”
“Talk about what?!” Peter had finally been tipped over the edge, stomach hurling with the thought of this confrontation along with the convoluted sense of relief that it was finally happening. “What exactly is there to talk about, Tony?!” Peter snarled the name, using it against him, and he could see the effect work by the devastated look on his father’s face.
“The fact that the only reason I got shot was because I was so busy worrying about you trying to capture me while we were fighting HYDRA that I got distracted? Or because I had no sleep the night before? Do you know why that could be?” Peter shakily pushed himself off the bed, testing his strength, ready to jump up to his legs. “I had nineteen drones on me. Nineteen! It took me SIX hours to lose all of them!” The cry that ripped from Peter’s throat struck Tony’s core.
“Or maybe the fact that you only wanted to arrest me all because I didn’t let you kill my best friend’s father?” Harry’s pale face flashed beneath his briefly closed eyes. “I could never put somebody through that, losing their father. Especially not when I had just gained mine.”
Tony’s eyes were wide with his lips shut.
“When I heard that your tower was attacked, I was terrified -- at the mere thought that you were killed, also ripped away from me too soon.” Peter wiggled his toes against the floor, trying to feel anything else other than that gripping sensation on his heart, those tears prickling the corners of his eyes. “I got there so fast. Practically prayed the whole way over so that you would be okay.”
Tony stood by the door to his room, guarding it from either people coming in or Peter coming out, dumbfounded and speechless.
“That’s when I knew I loved you. That I wanted everything you could give me. Promised myself I would tell you everything if you were alive.” Tony did not let Peter’s silence linger.
“I love you, Peter!” Tony exclaimed, tentatively taking a step towards his skittish son. “I love you so much that I don’t even know what to do ab-”
“Then you ripped my heart out.” Peter’s icy voice cut through Tony’s ears.
“Peter, please.” Tony begged, finally rushing towards where his son was standing, covered in sweat and tears and blood. What he didn’t know is that Peter had gained most of his strength back and was ready to push off the ground and onto the ceiling, which was exactly what he did.
Peter’s hands stuck to the styrofoam tiles and the metal pieces in between, and he quickly evaluated his best plan of escape.
“Don’t go. Please, don’t go, I’ll do anything, I’m so sorry-” But Peter’s mind was set as he slinged his webs to the chair in the corner, pulling it at just an angle that it smashed into the window and broke it into a million little pieces. The shatter seemed to stun Tony, but Peter did not wait to get himself out of there, and into the cool New York City evening air.