Tony II
T o n y
As Tony stalked quickly to the elevator in a fashion similar to the day before, he heard Rhodey speak up from behind him.
“Is Wanda not coming?”
“Her and Vision are staying abroad,” was Sam’s voice in reply, but Tony did not turn around. He didn’t want to think about Wanda, and what he did and what happened to her. Because he hadn’t really thought about the Accords in terms of Wanda, only himself and the woman who was grieving over her son. He hadn’t thought about Wanda, or Bruce, or the fact that Peter would also fit into their category.
“Wanda … doesn’t really want to come back to New York,” came Steve’s voice, the last thing Tony heard before the doors closed.
He took the elevator to the penthouse, walked across the room, and flopped heavily, face-first onto the couch. On his way he had bypassed Pepper in the open plan kitchen, in the process of making a smoothie (he didn’t question the time, not that he knew what it was).
“Bad day?” remarked Pepper.
Tony let out a loud groan that was muffled by the couch cushions.
“Poor dear,” said Pepper. The couch dipped slightly as she sat next to him, patting him on the head.
Needing to breathe, Tony placed his head to the side and pouted.
“I hate it, Pep, I hate him.”
“No, you don’t,” said Pepper, now massaging his scalp. “He just let you down.”
“Let me down!?” Tony raised his head slightly before Pepper pushed it back down. Tony groaned again.
“You might not ever forgive him,” Pepper continued. Tony disliked the fact that she knew he would forgive the others, like Natasha, eventually. With Sam, Tony’s only issue was the fact he was good at rolling mid-air. He’d only ever known him – and briefly at that – as Steve’s military friend-turned-Avenger. He hadn’t helped him train, had never had an expectation that he’d ever be on Tony’s ‘side’. Barnes, Tony hadn’t thought about. It wasn’t until he’d been bickering with Sam that Tony had realised that Bucky was an actual person.
Pepper poked him in the head to catch his attention. “You might not ever forgive him,” she repeated with a raised eyebrow. “But you will have to learn to live with them, and work with him again. You barely have to do either of those things; none of them can enter the penthouse, and you only have to go to a few meetings.”
“’cept if we have to save the world,” grumbled Tony.
“At which point you would most definitely put away your differences for the greater good of the world, I’m sure,” said Pepper.
Tony sighed. “Why can’t you let me stew instead of saying reasonable things?”
“Because you end up stewing for three weeks, not three hours like normal people. I don’t want to have to go into your lab to fetch you. I’m very busy, you know.”
“Do you time how long you’re mad for?”
“I’m very busy, Tony.”
“Don’t I know,” Tony said, letting out a yawn and snuggling into the couch cushion. Pepper’s hand was still running through his hair. “How come you’re not busy today, anyway?”
“It’s eight o’clock in the evening,” said Pepper. “I thought I did rather well in stopping being busy. Did you leave Rhodey by himself?”
“Rhodey’s a big boy,” said Tony. “He’s very forgiving.”
At those words, the elevator made a ding and the man in question walked out into the living room. Tony peeked up from where was snuggled into the couch, with Pepper still patting his head.
“Honestly, I think you did well,” said Rhodey, and Tony felt the dip of the couch again as Rhodey sunk down onto the sofa himself. “I half-expected you to bolt after Natasha arrived.”
“You would’ve chased me down,” Tony mumbled into the couch.
“Not well,” said Rhodey. “My legs don’t work well, you see.”
“I made those braces perfectly!”
“I know you did,” said Rhodey, his voice changing to a warm one. “And you actually had a conversation with Steve, so I think it’s been pretty successful.”
Tony let out another groan into the cushions.
“They all decided to check out their rooms,” Rhodey said, hitching his feet up onto the coffee table. “Natasha asked if you were joining them for dinner, but I think she was joking.”
“Are you joining them for dinner?”
“I was considering it,” said Rhodey.
“What’s there to consider?”
“I was going to see how much it was effecting you, see if you yelled at me, you know,” Rhodey did some little jazz hands. “The normal whole shebang.”
“I don’t like how much you know me, Platypus,” said Tony. “I’m Tony Stark, Iron Man. No one knows the real me.”
“Keep telling yourself that,” Rhodey said as Pepper snorted. “Whatever keeps you sleeping for the four hours you decide upon each night.”
“I hate you.”
“Boo,” said Rhodey. “I want sushi.”
“We had sushi for lunch.”
“Damn, burgers, then?”
“Don’t butter me up with a cheeseburger, I’m not going downstairs,” said Tony, raising himself up slightly.
“Even I think that’s too far tonight,” said Rhodey. “FRIDAY, usual order? Ask downstairs if they want to add on, yeah?”
“Yes, Platypus,” said FRIDAY. Rhodey made a face.
“I somehow prefer Colonel Rhodes.”
“Of course you do, sweetums,” said Tony.
“Boss, the others had added their food orders, would you like anything else?” FRIDAY interrupted Rhodey before he opened his mouth.
“No, thank you Friday,” said Tony, waving a hand. “Unless booze is an option?”
“My protocol requires me to –”
“I know, FRIDAY,” Tony sighed, then raised himself up completely to sitting before flopping his head back so he looked at the ceiling in despair.
As much as Pepper insisted that having the Avengers back would not interfere with his life, Tony realised quite quickly that Pepper was a liar. For the first three days in which the Avengers returned, Tony had an itchy feeling as soon as he woke up. He knew they were floors below, doing God knows what in his Tower. He could feel their presence whether they were there or not; and Tony did see them. He saw Natasha slinking around the floors when he had to do his Friday check on the interns, he saw Barnes walking stiffly to the direction of the gym on Saturday, and on Sunday Sam was practicing diving off his fucking Tower (Tony had itched to accidentally open a window where he was diving in front of).
So, Tony got up Monday (at midday) with the full intent of holing himself up in his lab and refusing to come out until FRIDAY shut it down through Pepper’s orders. He knew full well there was a meeting (he’d not gone to the one on Friday) and had decided not to go. Pepper, however, had other ideas.
“If you can’t even be in meeting with them, I think you need to do a check on yourself, Tony,” she said on her way out their bedroom. “You agreed to be civil, and you’re not. Can’t you be the bigger person for once?”
“No,” said Tony petulantly from under the covers.
“If you don’t, I’m going somewhere else, your whining charade is becoming tiresome,” said Pepper before walking off.
Rhodey, the traitor, was making amends with the others by hanging out with them. On the Saturday, he and Sam drove to the compound for a hike (“You don’t go hiking,” Tony had said. “I do now,” Rhodey had replied) that lasted six hours. Tony had wondered if Rhodey had been testing his leg braces, or that Sam had murdered Rhodey and was trying to get rid of the body. Alas, Rhodey had come back looking much more relaxed and had stated he was joining the Avengers for dinner.
Tony had said no when Rhodey asked him. Rhodey hadn’t looked overly surprised but had his ‘trying not to show disappointment’ face on, which stayed on until he got in the elevator to go downstairs.
On the Sunday, whilst Tony had been eyeing Sam diving off the tower, Rhodey had apparently baked cookies with Steve (“Since when have you baked?” Tony had asked, aghast. “Steve taught me,” Rhodey had replied). He had then had the audacity to bring them to Tony, only stating that Steve had made them after Tony had inhaled three. The cookies had the audacity to be the best cookies he’d ever had. Goddamn Steve Rogers.
So, on that Monday, Tony was starting to feel rather resentful over Rhodey’s newfound friends. So much so, that Tony was deliberating over Pepper’s advice to contact Peter. He sat in his lab and swivelled slightly on his chair as he debated. Perhaps, this time, Tony should go through the responsible adult first, and offer an olive branch toward May Parker instead.
“FRIDAY, do we have May Parker’s number?”
“Happy has a contact under May Parker,” replied FRIDAY.
“Cool, send it over.”
Tony Stark to May Parker: hey, May, Tony here. I know you told me to fuck off but fancy a chat sometime about Peter?
With no immediate response, Tony turned back to what he was working on. One of his boots’ repulsors was a bit dodgy after a run in with a lamppost (he’d kicked it on a fly around after getting angry one evening). He was still hitting it when there was a faint buzz of an incoming message. Wiping his hands on his jeans, he grabbed his phone. Tony blinked at the notification.
May Parker: who dis? think u got the wrong number, bro
Tony frowned. Was it some kind of prank? Had someone stolen May’s phone?
Tony Stark: who are you?
May Parker: not this may girl. i’m a dude
Tony Stark: how did you get this number?
May Parker: got a new phone, duh. Had to change numbers. Y so aggressive, U texted ME first, “tony”
Tony Stark: where’s may?
May Parker: idk bro, u sound like u got issues w her and your son
Tony Stark: what?
May Parker: peter? the kid u said?
Tony Stark: did you steal her phone?
May Parker: wtf no
Tony Stark: I’m very familiar with New York, I can find you in an instant.
May Parker: dude I’m from Wisconsin
Tony stared at the phone in frustration.
“FRIDAY, is this the correct phone number?”
“This is the phone number that Happy had,” replied FRIDAY. “The location pinged for the number is Fond du Lac, Wisconsin.”
Tony swore and ran his hand through his hair.
“It is very common for people to change numbers,” said FRIDAY.
“I know that,” snapped Tony. “But why didn’t she tell Happy she’d changed?”
FRIDAY did not respond, not that Tony expected her to. As clever as Tony was, he could not replicate a true human brain inside the AI that could recognise the idiosyncrasies of human nature.
Tony looked down at his phone. The man from Wisconsin had sent another message.
May Parker: hope u don’t find may & peter, u seem aggy as fuck
This did not help Tony’s mood.
“Boss, Steve Rogers is asking if you are attending the meeting,” said FRIDAY.
Tony rubbed a hand on his forehead and let out a groan.
“Tell him I’m busy,” said Tony.
“He says it’s about the Avengers,” said FRIDAY.
“Yeah? Well, the Avengers don’t exist anymore.”
“Would you like me to relay that, Boss?”
“No, no,” said Tony. He put the screwdriver down and groaned very loudly. “I’ll be up in ten minutes.”
He went up in twenty because he was feeling especially salty, fetching coffee, and taking sunglasses on the way for no particular reason other than he was also feeling especially dramatic today, too.
He waltzed into meeting room A with an aura of the old Tony Stark, before multiple people close to him fucked him over.
“I’ve only got twenty minutes,” Tony stated without preamble, sliding into a chair, and slurping his coffee at the same time.
They were all there: Rhodey, Sam, Barnes, Nat, and Steve. There were two gaping gaps on one side that gave Tony a twinge, and two empty chairs at the end which made Tony’s heart contract. He really hoped that Bruce was fine, wherever he was. Thor only ever turned up when something was actually happening, but Bruce – Bruce had been in a bad way when he left. For the missing Wanda and Vision, Tony only hoped that the two could forgive him. He had done what he thought was right in the circumstance. Like Steve, said a snide little voice.
It seemed someone else was feeling Bruce’s absence; Natasha stared hard at the seat across from her and barely glanced at Tony’s entrance. Rhodey had watched his entrance with the same sort of amused exasperated look Tony had seen for the last thirty years; Barnes looked bored enough to rip his arm off; and Sam was looking faintly annoyed at the interruption. So, all in all, no changes.
“Thank you for joining us, Tony,” said Steve.
“Don’t thank me yet,” said Tony.
Steve seemed to steel himself. “We were talking about Avengers protocols now that the Accords have been scrapped –”
“They’ve been scrapped, but the idea’s still there,” said Rhodey. “I wouldn’t be too hasty in thinking regulations will go away. The U.N. are already thinking of a – hopefully – more realistic route.”
“Right,” said Steve, looking as though Rhodey had just ruined whatever speech he had planned. Which, he probably had. “Well, we still need an Avengers initiative in place for when something happens.”
“I’m not an Avenger, can I leave?” said Bucky.
“No,” said Sam. “You’re half the reason we here.”
“I was set up, you mean,” said Bucky. “I was just trying to live my life in Bucharest –”
“Living life? I spent two goddam years trying to track your annoying ass –”
“Shows how bad you are at it,” said Bucky smugly.
“Do you two ever shut up?” asked Rhodey.
“Yeah, when he was in cryogenic sleep for four months,” said Sam.
“I miss Clint,” said Natasha, looking distinctly bored. “And he was labelled the annoying one. Can we move on?”
“Yes,” said Steve, and Tony was pleased to see him looking a little flustered. “Right, well Avenger or not, Buck, you’re enhanced and very much in the middle of – well, everything. I think we should get everyone together so we can discuss tactics and where everyone will be stationed. Sam has Scott Lang’s number, and he and Clint are both out of house arrest now –”
“Good thing, too,” said Natasha. “I was going to go to Clint’s myself after all the phone calls he made when he was bored.”
“Why didn’t you? Would do me a favour,” said Tony half-heartedly.
“I was busy,” said Natasha.
“Busy? Weren’t you in Wakanda?” said Rhodey.
“No,” said Natasha, but didn’t give any more information. Tony decided that, really, he probably didn’t want to know.
Steve looked as though he thought the same but did not portray surprise that Nat had been off on her own, considering he would already know that.
“Anyway,” said Steve. “Wanda agreed to visit for a brief period to settle things down, so all we need is the Spider-Man fellow from Queens –”
“We what now?” said Tony at the same time Rhodey said “No we don’t.”
“Man, I hate that guy,” muttered Sam, and Bucky nodded.
Natasha said nothing, instead taking all the reactions around her and calculating them inside her head.
“He was in Germany, Tony,” said Steve, patiently. “If we don’t get him in to chat, the U.N. definitely will.”
Tony hadn’t thought about that.
“He’s not doing anything,” said Tony. “He’s just helping the little guy, y’know, helping old ladies cross the street, saving cats from trees.”
“He ripped the Staten Island Ferry in half,” said Natasha flatly, looking at Tony for a reaction.
“It was a mistake – on my part, too –”
“He was involved in your plane crash,” said Steve. “What he’s been up to is not exactly low scale stuff. He was in a big fight recently, too.”
“Let me talk to him, then,” said Tony, having no idea what Steve was talking about. “But I am not involving him in this.”
“You involved him when you brought him to Germany,” said Sam.
“Look, Tony –” started Steve, but Tony had had enough of their presence.
“Times up,” said Tony. “I’ve got things to do.”
Tony left swiftly out the door, wishing not for the first time that he should never have installed soft-closed doors to prevent dramatic exits.
He wondered later, as he waited outside Midtown School, whether he was using the kid because he actually wanted to see him, or because it was an excuse to leave his Tower that had been suffocating him for the past half an hour.
Happy seemed to think so, if his irritated tapping on the wheel was anything to go by.
“He’s a good kid,” said Happy abruptly. Tony broke out of his thoughts.
“I know,” said Tony.
“I made a mistake once with him,” Happy carried on. “I don’t want to make another one.”
Tony paused, and then realised he had no idea what Happy was trying to say.
“Gotta be clearer than that, Happy,” said Tony.
Happy stopped tapping and looked around the car, elbow on the headrest.
“Are you using the kid again because you’re scared of the Rogues, or do you actually want to give him an internship?”
Often, Tony liked it when Happy was blunt and outright. Now, with his exact thoughts being spoken aloud side-by-side with a rather judgemental frown, Tony disliked it completely.
“I’m not scared of them,” said Tony petulantly.
Happy glared at him so hard Tony let out a sigh.
“Fine, fine,” he muttered. “I don’t know, okay? Maybe my original thought was to use him, but yeah, maybe I should give him an internship ‘cos he deserved it. At the very least, I should probably check if he’s alright considering it’s been seven months.”
“You didn’t contact him in seven months?”
“Did you?”
“I didn’t think that was my responsibility anymore, considering how badly I fucked it up the last time!” Happy sounded slightly distressed. Tony didn’t really know why. “I thought you were talking to him!”
“Why did you think I was talking to him?” asked Tony blankly.
“Because he just stopped your plane from being hijacked, which we both didn’t believe would happen and I had just ignored him the entire time and hung up on his friend who was trying to tell me, and then you offered him an Avengers post that he said no to because he’s actually a good kid, so I assumed you’d contact him because you’d actually shown an interest in him!”
Happy said this all-in-one breath with the most emotion Tony had ever seen the man portray. To say he was surprised was an understatement, but he attempted to swallow the shaky feelings of seeing Happy crack and attempt to try and reply.
“I thought I’d give him space,” said Tony.
“What for?”
“He – he was Spider-Man before I found him,” Tony looked out the window without really seeing anything. As it was, he didn’t notice the small figure gazing up at the school with an odd amount of earnest, before disappearing swiftly around the corner. “And then when his Aunt found out, why would he need me anymore? What was I supposed to with a teenager anyway?”
Happy heaved out a sigh that sounded rather painful.
“I thought I was stupid, but I think you take first place,” said Happy.
“I can still fire you, Happy,” said Tony, rather affronted. He was making the effort now, wasn’t he? Trying to fix something? For even if Tony’s first intention was to use the kid, at least now he was actually intrigued about how he was doing. Especially since May Parker had somehow cut off contact. He wondered if Happy knew.
“Did you know May Parker had changed her number?”
“No,” said Happy. “She only texted me about three times.”
“Did you reply?”
“Yes.”
Tony huffed and leaned back on his seat, slumping slightly to get comfortable. It was very boring waiting, and Tony was not very good at waiting. It was not one of his main qualities, alongside communication and patience. Did patience and waiting count as the same thing?
“Why do they take so long to get out?” said Tony grumpily.
“You were half an hour early,” supplied Happy. “I told you they won’t be out until around 3.”
Tony did not reply, and instead whipped out his StarkPhone in order to continue the pretence that he was a Very Busy Man. He also had told Pepper he’d reply to emails, which he had nearly done to not go to the Avengers meeting. Even an Avengers meeting was better than replying to emails sent by the assistants of annoying businessmen.
Ignoring the many thousand email notifications, he headed to his messages instead. He bypassed the recent chain with not-May-Parker (which Tony was still debating whether to block, but the ‘dude’ on the other end did not seem to know he was The Tony, and not a regular Tony, so didn’t see the harm). Realising he never had a text chain with Parker, he quickly set one up.
Tony Stark to Peter Parker: hey kid any chance you could bust out early
Tony Stark: don’t tell may
Peter didn’t respond. He wasn’t overly surprised, considering schools were (apparently) rather strict over the phone thing. As it was nearing the end of the day, it didn’t seem there was much point for Peter to be on it.
When just before three came around, kids of all different sizes started emerging from the depths of the school. Loud and raucous, they ambled down the steps shouting at one another, or cackling with friends about things on their phone. Most headed towards the station, but a lot also headed to various high-quality cars parked in the parking lot, or on the side of the road like Tony. Quite a few gave Tony’s car a twice look over, making him distinctly pleased he had not picked one with “STARK” as the number plate. He did not want to deal with any more kids than he needed to.
Tony stopped slumping and perked up slightly, eyeing the kids coming out the building. It was irritating when some milled around, blocking his view of everyone. As the minutes ticked by, however, Tony was starting to get a bit antsy.
Peter was not with anyone.
He wasn’t with the large group of boys who had stormed out, or the group looking distinctly nerdy. No hide or hair of the brown curls and shoddy hoody that Tony had seen before.
Tony had started to fidget in irritation and think about leaving when a kid around Peter’s age shuffled slowly out the building staring morosely at the floor. The other students swarmed round him in droves, but only a few acknowledged him. A small blonde girl with a tall boy squeezed his arm as he passed; a curly-haired, cross-looking girl gave him a brief pat on the shoulder as she left the building, too. Tony squinted at him for some sort of recognition.
“That’s Peter’s friend,” said Happy. “Ted or something. He nearly wet himself when I picked the kid up a few times.”
“Is this the same guy that hacked my suit?” Tony asked, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. Peter’s friend was coming very helpfully in their direction, looking sadder than ever.
“Guess so, boss.”
Ted-or-something hunched slightly as a he passed a group of boys milling around the pavement. Tony wasn’t sure what was said, but the boy slouched further in on himself and hurried along, glancing up as he went. This, it turned out, was to be beneficial. In a second, he had spotted Tony’s car and his face morphed into a combination of shock and confusion.
Tony rolled down his window and poked his head out, which seemed to startle the kid even further. The boys who had been taunting him all had gobsmacked faces.
“Is it Ted? Parker’s friend?”
“Er,” the boy looked ready to combust. This was not an unusual reaction for Tony, but as of right now he was becoming faintly irritated by the waiting he had already done, so was impatient to wait for citizens to get over the fact they were seeing Tony Stark-slash-Iron Man. “Ned, sir, Ned Leeds.”
“Parker here?”
Ned Leeds’ face dropped the worship immediately at the mention of Peter.
“Erm, no, sir,” said Ned, trembling slightly. Tony huffed out an annoyed breath. He’d waited for ages and Parker had what, skipped?
“What, he skipping again?”
“Um.”
“Because I got told off a lot by May Parker for that, apparently that was my fault – incidentally, do you know her new number? Can’t seem to get it – and are you the one that hacked my billion-dollar suit?”
Ned’s face went through a remarkable number of colours before settling on a rather unsettling white.
“You … you want May’s new number?”
“Yes, a whole ‘I tell you if Parker’s in trouble’ sort of thing,” Tony waved his hand for emphasis. “Except I apparently do not have her number anymore.”
“But – but –”
“Not that she used it, my number I mean, which I’m assuming means Parker hasn’t ripped any more ferries open, you know, but I would’ve seen that on the news if nothing else – especially since you disabled the tracker and all that jazz which was there for safety let me remind you. I may be Tony Stark, but I have at least some qualities to ensure the health of teenage vigilantes –”
“But, Mr Stark, you – you don’t know?”
“What don’t I know?” Tony hated being interrupted, and yes maybe he was off on a tangent, but the same irritation still rushed through him that caused him to snap.
“May died six months ago,” said Ned Leeds quietly.
It was a sunny day in early May, yet Tony suddenly felt extremely cold. Silence descended, marred only by Happy’s sharp intake of breath. Other than that, no one said anything for a time that Tony didn’t even remember.
“You better get in the car,” he said finally.
They went to a burger joint, though it was painfully obvious that none of them were very hungry. Tony was, for once, out of ideas about what to do and a burger joint seemed to an option on the table. Ned had got in the car with such an air of great trepidation and sadness that it was suffocating; it swarmed around the car as Happy pressed his foot down and zoomed off to a hole-in-the-wall place that he knew of.
Tony felt very aware of his hands for some reason as they sped along. Ned was eyeing him in his peripheral and seemed torn between anguish and the fact that he was in a car with Iron Man. Tony fiddled with his tie, then his phone, then tapped a tune on his trousers. When Happy pulled up outside the restaurant, Tony all but sprinted out the car.
Luckily, the owners knew Tony and had a special backroom for him, away from prying eyes and autograph-asking restaurant goers. The owner – Nancy – merely smiled and ushered them back with the promise of delivering three cheeseburgers very quickly. Tony had nodded, smiled weakly, then sat on a chair. Happy followed suit, but Ned hovered nervously by the door.
“Sit,” Tony indicated the chair opposite.
Ned went slightly purple before sitting down heavily and looking in desperate need for an inhaler.
Tony waited until Nancy had returned with burgers, fries, and Sprite before he aimed a fry at Ned and said:
“You,” he waggled the chip for emphasis. “Need to tell me what the fuck is going on.”
Ned seemed to blanch a little as Happy went “Tony.” in the same warning tone Pepper used when Tony had said something inappropriate.
“What?”
“May Parker is dead, stop being a dick,” said Happy. He looked upset.
“It’s OK, Mister S-Stark,” stuttered Ned. “I’m not offended. I – I just –”
Ned looked down at his lap and seemed to struggle with himself.
“I just – I, I thought you knew,” said Ned quietly, fiddling with his napkin. “I – I thought you’d just, you’d just left him alone.”
The icy feeling was back as Tony struggled opening his mouth. His throat constricted as he attempted to figure out what to say.
“What do you mean, left him alone?”
“P-Peter,” said Ned. “May was his last living relative.”
Clunk went the last remaining parts of his stomach as they dropped to the floor in a motion so painful Tony nearly creased over.
“Last living relative?” Tony repeated hoarsely. “So Peter’s – Peter’s not with family?”
“No,” said Ned, looking ready to cry. “He went to a foster home.”
“Jesus,” said Happy.
Tony couldn’t really comprehend what was happening with Peter at that moment. Ned looked even more miserable, and Happy looked like he wanted to punch a wall. Tony had known Peter’s parents had died. He’d known he’d gone to his father’s brother and wife. He had assumed, however, that there were still others around – perhaps another sibling, or grandparent, or a cousin somewhere. He had not really given a thought that Peter could be alone.
“What happened to May?” he asked.
Ned started ripping up his napkin. “She – ah – at the beginning of November. She got hit by a car that had run out of control. Smashed right into the shop she was in – and – well. Peter got the call whilst he was still out as Spider-Man – so, so he thought – thought it was his fault for not stopping the car during patrol. Apparently May had gone to get him a treat for when he got back,” Ned shifted. “He phoned me from the hospital. Sounded so hollow, like when Ben died. ‘Cept this time he didn’t have May to return home with. I told him he could stay with me but, but, the social services took him away to the group foster house in Queens. I didn’t see him until he came to school three days later –”
“Three days?”
“Yeah,” said Ned with a rather twisted smile. “Apparently the foster house didn’t want to pay for therapy, so they sent him back to Midtown so he could use the counsellor there. They were pleased he had a scholarship, but I think the other kids at the foster home were rather irritated by Peter going to such a good school.”
“What happened?”
“He got fostered by a couple in Brooklyn,” said Ned. His voice was laced with something heavy, like he was holding the world on his shoulders. “And … and about a week after they decided they didn’t want to pay for his travelling fees anymore.”
“Travelling fees?” Tony repeated, baffled. “But the – the journey can’t be more than an hour?”
Ned shrugged. “People don’t have a lot of money, Mister Stark. Even though Peter said he’d get a job to pay for the fees – which he did, mind you, at a supermarket – they said they didn’t want him travelling so far every day there and back.” Ned wrinkled his nose. “So, he had to go to some local school instead.”
Tony rubbed his face roughly, as though it would somehow wipe everything away from his brain.
“The thing is,” said Ned, his face crumpling slightly. Tony was worried he was about to cry; he was bad enough talking to a teenager, let alone attempting to comfort a crying one. “At first, when he first went to his foster parents, is that he kept in contact in ways – he’d, he’d wait for me outside of Midtown, y’know? And then we’d do whatever until he had to go back to Brooklyn. He had his phone, too, so he’d text and stuff. But then, when about the middle of January hit, he just stopped turning up and never even – he never even emailed to say that he was OK. I checked with the supermarket later on, and they said he’d stopped turning up, and then his phone just stopped, too. I kept getting “this message was not delivered” or some shit. It’s like he dropped off the face of the earth. But I even – I even travelled to his foster parents’ house, and they insisted he was ‘out’, and I couldn’t see him.”
“You think they were lying?”
“Mr Stark,” said Ned. “Peter would always message me if something happened. We had the deal ever since I found out about Spider-Man. It helped, too, ‘cos everyone thought he was flaky as hell. But I don’t think they even allowed him a phone, cos he kept texting me only when they were asleep. And they definitely were hiding something, because they wanted to turf me out as quickly as possible. I even tried phoning CPS to ask if they could do, like, a wellness check or whatever, but they dismissed me completely.” Ned rubbed his face. “I half-thought about making posters about him being missing just to get some sort of reaction.”
“You didn’t?”
“Ran out of allowance,” Ned gave a small, sad, smile. “Getting the bus to Brooklyn. I went every day for a week to try and find him. They said he was working each time. And before that I helped Peter with food, cos the foster parents weren’t giving him enough for his Spider-Man diet – I don’t think they gave him enough for a normal diet. My mom thinks Peter has just … moved on from me and Midtown, and that I should let him get on with it. But, why would he move on when his last relative died? I was there when Ben died, Mr Stark, and he wasn’t good at all, he barely ate anything – and – and he didn’t say a word for about a month and I had to keep speaking for both of us, and all I could do was talk about Star Wars and Lego and whatever I could just to try and get a reaction, y’know?”
He said it all in one breath which caused Tony to think Ned might pass out. People needed to learn how to breath and speak at the same time.
“And May called me all the time cos it took Peter so long to even be in the same room as her – she thought she’d done something,” Ned carried on. “But it wasn’t that at all, it’s because of Peter’s guilt or hero complex that he thinks he should’ve been able to save Ben, ‘cos he was there at the time of the robbery. I had to tell May, and it took so long to get that out of his system – but then, now – with May dying during his patrol. I – he wasn’t ever completely there when we met up. He was happy to see me, but he – he had this front on all the time. He never got a chance to mourn her, Mister Stark. The foster home made him go back to school, he was already in a place so different – and what’s the counsellor going to do? I don’t know what happened to him. Maybe Mr and Mrs Davidson were telling the truth and Peter’s still there, but why did he stop coming to see me? And if he – he ran away or something, then where’s he now? It’s been nearly five months, now, Mister Stark, and in winter too.”
“Do you think he’s still at the foster place?”
“I’m not sure,” said Ned. “He might be. He – he has this thing where he thinks he can be a burden on everyone. Just before he stopped coming, I – er – didn’t have the money to pay for something at school, and Peter thought it was because he’d used it all when I bought him food.” Ned heaved another sigh. “It wasn’t, I just forgot the cheque, but Peter got super withdrawn and then,” Ned rubbed his wrist. “He stopped coming.”
“You think the foster parents might just be stopping the elements from Peter’s previous life?” Happy interjected unexpectedly. Tony blinked, realising that it was, actually, a rather good question. He looked at Ned, who had a face as though he hadn’t considered anything like that.
“Why would they do that?”
Happy shrugged. “Sad memories? Trying not to show what he’s missing from Midtown?”
Ned looked thoughtful. “I suppose,” he said, not sounding very confident. “Or they were trying to isolate him from the only person left who knows Peter the best.”
The car was silent as it pulled up next to the Leeds’ apartment block. Ned left the car with a small, sad smile after he had given his number to Tony for “when he gets Peter back”. Ned hadn’t said much else in the car, and Tony had not tried to initiate conversation. His mind was still reeling from the fact that May Parker had died six months ago, and Tony hadn’t had a clue. He was Tony Stark, and there was something he did not know. A vital thing that he should have known, if only he’d pulled his head out of his ass and actually looked around himself for once.
He watched as Ned walked through the door of the building with a final little wave and disappeared. Retrieving his phone, Tony looked back at his text to Peter and saw, with a heavy heart, the first instance of Ned Leeds’ evidence becoming apparent.
Tony Stark to Peter Parker: (this message was not delivered)
“Home, Happy,” sighed Tony, pocketing his phone and staring moodily out the window. “Suppose I got some calls to make.”
“It’s past five o’clock,” said Happy. “You’ll probably have to do it tomorrow.”
Tony grumbled under his breath.
“You will call them, won’t you?” asked Happy.
“Yes,” said Tony.
“That kid is relying on you.” Happy started the car and pulled out from the side of the road.
“Which one?”
“Ned,” sighed Happy. The unspoken word that Peter was not relying on him went unsaid.
I thought you’d just left him alone.
He had left him alone.
Tony didn’t reply to Happy, instead taking the tablet from the seat next to him and turning it on.
“FRIDAY, search for May Parker’s accident.”
“I have found five articles regarding May Parker’s accident,” said FRIDAY.
“Show me.”
Immediately, articles flipped up onto the tablet, and Tony filtered to the one dated furthest back.
“OUT OF CONTROL CAR LEAVES SIX DEAD
Around ten p.m. yesterday evening a car travelling down Yellowstone Boulevard lost control and smashed through the shop front of Volpe’s Marketplace supermarket. Witnesses state that the car was travelling over the speed limit before hitting what seemed to be an unidentified object and skidded off the road. Six people, including the shop owner Ricardo Volpe, who were in the shop at the time, were killed immediately on impact. The five others have yet to be identified publicly. The owner of the vehicle, identified as David Swan, was missing when emergency services arrived. Police are asking for any information regarding the whereabouts of David Swan, as medics believe he could be in a critical condition.”
“SIX DEAD AS CAR SMASHES THROUGH SHOP
Three days ago, six people were killed after what police describe as an “out-of-control” car smashed through Volpe’s Marketplace. Ricardo Volpe, 58, was among those who died. His son, Marco, tells of his father’s legacy:
“My dad was the light of the neighbourhood; he worked practically twenty-four seven in order to help those living round us. I would like to say thank you to everyone reaching out with condolences for my father’s passing. To have him taken in such a violent manner brings us much sadness. I hope whoever responsible will be apprehended. My father deserves justice.”
The funeral for Ricardo Volpe will take place on November 30th. The five others dead have been formally identified as Fiona Osman, 67; Taylor Fitzpatrick, 19; May Parker, 38; Cooper Brennan, 28; and Henry Firth, 45.
Police are still asking for knowledge on the whereabouts of David Swan, the owner of the vehicle, who has not been seen since the day before the crash.”
The third clipping was an obituary.
“Maybelle ‘May’ Parker, née Toscano, March 12th, 1979 – November 5th, 2016.
Born in Queens, May married Ben Parker, also from Queens, in 2003 until his death in 2015. May worked as a nurse in the ER at Queen’s Memorial Hospital for seven years and will be missed by many. She is survived by her nephew, Peter, having been his guardian for eleven years. Her funeral will be held in St. John’s Cemetery on December 2nd at 11 am.”
The fourth clipping was dated in late December:
“MAN, WHOSE CAR KILLED SIX, FOUND DEAD
David Swan, wanted for the killings of six people due to dangerous driving, was found dead at his home in Rego Park, Queens, yesterday afternoon. The coroner reports that Mr Swan, 72, had died before the accident occurred due to a head trauma. He was found stuffed in his wardrobe by police after an anonymous tip off reported a “foul odour” coming from Mr Swan’s apartment. Mr Swan had been divorced for many years and described by his neighbours as a “recluse” and “isolated fellow”. They believed he had gone to visit his sister, after his next-door neighbour, Anne Beardsley, had received a hand-written note through her front door explaining his trip. The police are now inquiring over the nature of his death, believed to be foul play, and whether the now understood stolen car was at the forefront of this horrific occurrence.
Ricardo Volpe, Fiona Osman, Taylor Fitzpatrick, May Parker, Cooper Brennan, and Henry Firth were all casualties during the crash from Mr Swan’s car. He was previously the prime suspect to the case.
The fifth clip was from this year, back in early February.
“POLICE CLOSE INVESTIGATIONS OVER DAVID SWAN’S MURDER
Police state they are closing the line of inquiry regarding the murder of David Swan back in November last year. With little evidence, through lack of DNA and broken CCTV footage, they have been unable to track any perpetrators who killed Mr Swan and then six others after losing control of the stolen vehicle. Those seeking retribution and justice over the deaths of their beloveds who died in the car accident are said to be “incredibly disappointed” that the police are no longer inquiring about the David Swan case. Unless new evidence occurs, those involved will never understand why the car was specifically chosen, and why it crashed through Ricardo Volpe’s shop. For the families of Ricardo Volpe, Fiona Osman, Taylor Fitzpatrick, May Parker, Cooper Brennan, and Henry Firth, this news may come as a shock.
“I’m beyond disgusted by the police closing this case,” says Janet Firth, wife of Henry. “Not only was David Swan murdered for reasons unknown, but six other people lost their lives, including my Henry, and the police don’t seem to care about bringing the perpetrators to justice.”
The acting police commissioner was unable to comment on the nature of closing this case.”
Tony was left feeling slightly hollow as he raised his head from the tablet and watched the world rush by as Happy drove through traffic. It started to rain; with it came a sense of pathetic fallacy, as Tony suddenly had a feeling very akin to dread.
Only one thought was swirling round his brain.
Where the fuck was Peter Parker?