Left Behind

Peter lies on one of the old team’s beds, looking up at the ceiling as if it was a precious piece of art. There’s nothing there, of course. It’s just old white paint and a ceiling lamp that looks like it’s been installed perfectly (with a mechanic like Tony Stark living with them, it’s no surprise). But he feels a little like Goldilocks. The bed’s too warm, too big- too this or that- it’s just not home, is it? And that’s not Tony’s fault, of course. He just misses normality and hopes that they’ll be able to bring it back after all of this is over.

In the morning, Peter has to tread through such a mess that he feels as if it’s an obstacle course Tony’s set down to make sure he slows him down. But he can’t really complain. He’s inside, away from the cold weather and the fights that break out every hour or so.

“It’s a bit messy here, Mr Stark,” Peter says, finally opening the door to the kitchen. He frowns once he sees the man’s face. He’s got eye bags (which have their own eye bags), and he has a bottle of God knows what in his hand. Peter can tell he hasn’t slept, and that this- whatever it was- had become a daily routine for the man. “It’s a little early to drink, isn’t it?”

“No, kid,” Tony says, taking a sip of scotch. “It’s twelve o’clock somewhere.”

“Hm,” Peter huffs. “Well, even though that’s true- doesn’t mean you have to live by it.” Eyeing the clock, he walks over to the breakfast bar and grabs the bowl of yoghurt Tony made for him. Shoving most of it in his mouth, he returns to glare at Tony. “Mr Stark, it’s seven in the morning. Surely you shouldn’t start drinking this early. Doesn’t sound like it’s healthy.”

“Uh, kid- this is last night’s bender.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah… oh,” Tony rolls his eyes. “Look- I offered a room to you as I felt bad. I didn’t invite you for you to try and be my therapist. Just let me do what I do, and I’ll let you stay in the nice, warm, building. Got it?”

“I mean… no? I’m still going to make sure you’re okay. I’ll just have to do it from some other place if you’d kick me out. Your wellbeing is more important than me being someplace warm, sir,” Peter told him, eating the last spoonful of yoghurt (who knows, it might be the end of this arrangement already- he might as well take advantage of the stuff before he can’t).

“No,” Tony interrupts. “I barely tolerated you calling me ‘Mr Stark’. There’s no way you’re calling me sir. If you’re going to be annoying, at least tone that part down.”

“Sorry, sir. It’s my own fault, sir,” Peter mocks, but stops when he winces. “It’s okay, though. If you’re not going to let me help, I’ll just be on my way. It was nice whilst it lasted.” He grins to himself, proud of his jokes- but feels a pain in his heart as he walks out again.

What he wasn’t expecting, however, was a hand around his wrist. Pulling him back, Tony came face to face with the kid. He pours the scotch down the sink as a gesture (Peter doesn’t know, but there was nothing in there now anyway), rolling his eyes as he did so. “Look- there. I was joking about the whole kicking you out thing,” he admits, “But I wasn’t about the drinking. From now on- I do what I want, and you can try and stop me if you’d please- but it’ll never work.”

“I think it could.”

“Well, then- you’re wrong.”

“Okay? That doesn’t mean I won’t try, Mr Stark,” Peter shrugs. “I’ve always thought I might as well try with everything that I do. There’s no point in keeping to the status quo, to not trying things- is there? We can always better ourselves, even if you don’t want to.”

Tony looks at him, raising an eyebrow. When he blinks, he can almost see Steve looking back at him. The righteousness is basically seeping out of him. Somehow, it’s better suited to the kid. Tony doesn’t know why. “Okay,” is all he says.

“Okay?”

“That’s what I said, didn’t I?”

“Well… If I’m really honest, Mr Stark, I didn’t think you’d be so quick to agree with me there.”

“I never said I agreed, I just said ‘okay’. That could mean a lot of different things, kid,” Tony says. When Peter looks up at him with the most confused look on his face, Tony just chuckles and pats him on the shoulder. “Look, kiddo, I’ll try to do your whole ‘let’s better ourselves’ thing, but if I end up drinking myself to- well, to a point where I don’t want you to see- just know that it’s a lot harder than just saying ‘I don’t want to anymore’. Got it?”

“Got it,” Peter says, giving Tony a salute to signify just how much he really did ‘get it’.

“You’re a bit weird, Peter,” Tony laughs. It feels… warm. Maybe he’ll get used to having this constant ray of sunshine in his home. God knows he needs something to keep him going…

“Takes one to know one, Mr Stark,” Peter winks. He looks down on the table, sliding the used bowl into the sink. He looks down at Tony’s bowl, seeing nothing had been eaten. He sighs, “Have you had breakfast?”

He really is like Steve, Tony thinks. He bites his lip, not really wanting to eat… but he didn’t want to upset the kid. So, he takes a bite. In fact, he gets so ingrained in not wanting to see the young boy teary eyed again that he eats the whole thing and finds himself a little more energised than he’s been in ages. It’s good… and all of it is because Peter’s here. It does freak him out a little… but it’s swept aside as soon as he sees how happy it made the kid.

It’s about an hour later when they finally make it to the lab. It’s all in pieces, paper everywhere from the last time Tony tried to work in here. The glass to the door is shattered in one place, the shards over the floor. Peter figures he’ll have to walk around (or… just clean it up). There’s an old plate of something Tony tried to keep down but never finished. Peter doesn’t want to say how much it stinks. And the furthest window at the end of the room is askew, letting in the cold air. It’s freezing, if Peter’s honest… but if this is how Tony likes it, he figures he’ll have to get used to it.

It’s just as messy as the living room, and Peter knows it’s because Tony hasn’t had any energy to get out of bed for anything but a drink. So, he doesn’t blame him at all. But he knows that this must be hard for him to live in. This isn’t good at all… and suddenly Peter feels all sad for the hero he’s looked up to his entire life. And he decides that he’ll change this man’s life around. He’ll try and save him… just like he’s done for others.

“Oh… uh, Mr Stark- it’s… lovely in here,” Peter says, stepping over a considerably large piece of glass to get into the main part of the room.

“You can be honest, kid,” Tony laughs.

“Okay, good. It’s not nice at all.”

“When I said ‘honest’… I wasn’t expecting brutality too.”

“Well, sometimes you just have to be brutal to get it through to people,” Peter shrugs. “Uh, but- yeah, this is a lot. How have you even been working like this? I think this doesn’t make it up to the health and safety regulations.”

“There’s no regulations when you own all the building,” Tony chuckles, stepping over the same piece of glass that Peter did. He stands behind Peter, twisting him around to face the table where there’s some blueprints still together. “We can just ignore it. We’ll build first- and then maybe we can clean it up once we’ve got somewhere. I can’t be assed to figure this all out right now.”

So, that’s what they do.

Tony watches Peter work… and, wow, he’s… amazing. He’s a little whiz, and Tony feels reminiscent of his own childhood when he’d be exactly the same. He sees himself in this kid. The way he focuses so hard that he’s quiet for hours, or how he’ll get coding done that should take ages in under a minute. He’s a genius. And maybe it makes Tony feel more hopeful that they’ll succeed with their ‘mission’, and maybe it doesn’t.

Once they’ve messed around for a bit, Tony gets straight down to business. They’re here to reverse the snap. And since the kid was so insistent… he must have some idea on how they’ll do it.

“So, bud, what do you think is the best way to save the world?”

“Time machine?” Peter questions, jumping up on the stool that’s next to Tony. He spins himself around on it (a little like an over excited toddler would do) for a while, making himself feel a little dizzy. Once he’s done entertaining himself, he stops spinning and comes face-to-face which an amused/annoyed looking Tony. “What? You don’t think it would work?”

“Well… maybe, but how on earth are we going to make that? Kid, I think you’ve been watching too much sci-fi,” Tony chuckles, stopping the chair by his foot once he sees the apprehension Peter has in his eyes to start spinning again (Peter can’t help it… once you start you can’t stop). “And I think I’ve become a babysitter.”

“I am not a baby,” Peter pouts, furthering Tony’s point. “Anyway- we’ll come back to that topic later, but do you really think that with both our brain power… we can’t figure it out? I think we’ve got this in the bag, Mr Stark. Just wait… I bet we’ll have everyone back in like a month.”

Tony hits the bottom of the chair with his foot, causing Peter to go spinning. He chuckles as he goes and it’s music to Tony’s ear- no, no- it’s annoying and all he wants is to be alone. Right? He just wants to go to bed and what does he think he’s saying? It’ll be more than a month. Tony doesn’t think they’ll ever do it, so why does he feel this weird fleeting pressure on his heart? Something like hope?

Once Peter does his little twirl, and he’s back facing Tony- he looks like he’s waiting for a response.

“Maybe,” Tony decides to say. He gets up, checking his watch. “Anyway- shouldn’t we be going upstairs for dinner or something?”

“Oh!” Peter exclaims, jumping up. “Mr Stark… I have to do something- well and tell you something about me that you might not believe until you see it and-,”

“Just tell me, kid.”

“Okay… um… so, I’m sort of Spiderman?” Peter says. And Tony stays silent. All he does is stare at the kid’s face, blinking. “Mr Stark? I promise that I’m not lying… Look!” he tells him, walking over to the wall. He presses his hands to the wall and sticks himself to the wall. And eventually, he’s hovering above Tony on the ceiling and it’s freaky. “Have been for a while.”

“…I tried to recruit you, and you never stayed still enough for Friday to figure out who you were in time,” Tony blinks. “And you’re telling me that after all this time it was you? A kid? How are you so damn sneaky about it?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Yes, that’s why I’m asking you.”

Peter jumps down from the ceiling. “Hmf, well- a real magician never reveals their secrets, Mr Stark. But considering I don’t know anything about magic, I’ll just tell you.”

Peter sits down, considering it’s a long, long, story and he knows he’ll start pacing back and forth if he’s not sat down and fiddling with something to keep his mind of it. Tony watches him, waiting, and Peter feels as if he’s sat in front of a spotlight suddenly. He’s not nervous- no, somehow he’s not in front of Tony (even when the man looks at him like he hates him sometimes- Peter’s come to realise that might be his resting face… or he just does hate him).

“So… um, we went to Oscorp, I got bit by some radioactive spider and then- boom! I could do all this stuff I couldn’t do before. It was crazy. And then I lost my Uncle Ben to a shooting, and I decided I wanted to change the world, Mr Stark. Also, once I found out you were looking for me… I just panicked. So, I ran as fast as I could at any piece of evidence that you were nearby. And… I may have hacked into your servers to delete myself from your database.”

“You did what?” Tony says, suddenly wide awake. “How?”

“…Well, your security isn’t the best, Mr Stark. Or maybe I’m just super smart,” Peter shrugs, giggling when Tony’s got a shocked look on his face. “Anyway… before you throw me out for that comment, I need to patrol the neighbourhood. I see these people every day… and I just gotta make sure they’re all okay. I don’t know what I’d do if they got hurt.”

“Okay, kid. I’m not stopping you. You do what you got to do,” Tony tells him, but there’s this little voice in his brain telling him to say ‘no, stop it’ or ‘you have no idea how dangerous this job is’. And his heart is screaming at him, telling him that he couldn’t lose this kid- and that what if someone hurt him? “But be careful,” he adds quickly, because he’s not an asshole…okay? “I, uh- well I need someone to make me coffee in the morning.”

“Yeah, of course!”

Like a quick flash of light, Peter’s dressed in this ridiculous outfit that’s just not protective in the slightest. Tony stares out of the window as he scales the walls like nothing, using those webs (apparently ones he designed himself… which is just incredible) to swing through the sky so gracefully Tony would’ve thought he was flying. And when he goes to sit down, there’s a shot of pain that resonates throughout his body. He misses Peter, and he doesn’t know why. He can’t get close to anyone else, especially not a self-sacrificial teenager who goes out in a suit that wouldn’t even defend him from a cold. His heart can’t take it.

Tony walks to a familiar place instead of sitting down. He’s got a bottle in his hand before the sun sets, and the liquid is like going home to an old friend. He relaxes into the wall, drinking until he physically can’t anymore (as well as going back and forth to the kitchen to ransack the cupboards for any piece of food he could find). Closing his eyes, he decides to sleep by the bottles… because what else is he good for?

Peter comes ‘home’ at eleven. But once he walks in, the only wound a scrape from where he failed to attach a web during a long swing, he finds the evidence of what Tony’s been up to. He follows the trail of rubbish, of old food wrappers, and sighs. Tony’s using a bottle of beer as a pillow, and his sweatpants are covered in stains. His hair is a mess, his whole body relaxed as if he was seeping into the floor.

“Mr Stark?” Peter asks, kneeling beside the man’s body. He puts his palm on the man’s cheek, gently lifting it. Keeping his head up, he breathes a sigh of relief as he breathes- proving he’s still with them. “I think you should go to bed, sir.”

“I told you-“ Tony hiccups, “I don’t want to be called sir! It’s too much like my dad- and, kid, you don’t want to hear about him. He was an asshole. He never said ‘I love you’ and he hi-“

“Okay, Mr Stark. That’s fine,” Peter responds, putting his arm underneath Tony’s armpit to lift him up as well as interrupting the ‘I’ve got a shitty father’ speech. Peter knows how much the man would regret that in the morning if Peter let him continue.

“You- you’re too good, Peter,” Tony slurs, patting the young boy on the back. “You’re the best damn kid I’ve met in my life. I think you’re awesome. Me and you- bud- we’re going to change the world. We’re going to get everyone back, or I don’t think I can do this shit anymore.”

“Thank you. And I know- we’ve got this! But if we don’t… if, for some reason, it’s impossible… I hope I can convince you to stay around. The world needs you, Mr Stark. I think I need you… Because if we can’t do this… If I don’t get my family back… I don’t know what I’d do. But we have each other now. If this is the life the world has given me, I know I’m going to do my best to enjoy it.”

Apparently, Tony Stark was an affectionate, yet scared- frightened that he can’t handle life anymore- drunk. Who would’ve known? Using Peter as a walking frame, they get up to the billionaire’s master suite. Peter opens the door, putting Tony in bed. He makes sure the pillows are all puffed up, covering him up in the comfiest blanket Peter’s had the privilege to hold.

“I hope you don’t remember what you said to me tonight,” Peter says, “Because I don’t think you actually mean all of it.”

“Uhm! Drunk words are sober thoughts, Mr Parker. I think you’re amazing,” Tony grins, ruffling Peter’s hair. “But I am sorry. Nobody has had to witness this in a while. Steve would always be so disappointed in me. But he’d sit by my side and make sure I didn’t choke on my own vomit…. Clint would make me drink water until it hurt- knowing how much a Stark hangover hurt. Natasha and Bruce… they’d look so disappointed. And I was so close to beating it.”

“It’s okay, Mr Stark. You don’t have to prove yourself, okay? I promise I already see you in the best light.”

“No, you don’t. You’re scared.”

Peter tilts his head. Why would Tony think that? “I’m not scared. I look up to you.”

Tony winces. “No, no, no,” he repeats, shaking his head. “No, you can’t do that. I won’t ruin you. Peter, promise me you won’t end up like me.”

“Mr Stark… why wouldn’t I want to be you? You’re brave. Resilient. The smartest man on Earth. Funny.” Peter says, listing more and more about Tony what makes him great. “And this?” he says, gesturing his hand to some of the bottles that had made their way into the bedroom, “This is just a trip. It’s just something you’ll look back on one day. I’m going to make sure you get through this. I’ll be here for you. I promise.”

Tony leans forward, grabbing the kid’s hand. He squeezes it. “I-I might not remember this, Pete- but you- you are hundred times the man I’ll ever be. Thank you for looking after me. I don’t know if I’ll ever say it sober, but I’m glad that I met you.”

Peter was about to reply, to let him know it was all fine, but- Tony takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. He’s asleep- long gone. The alcohol in his system knocks him out. But Peter doesn’t leave. He looks around the room and starts to clean- he puts everything in bins/or in the right place (or so he thinks). Once he’s certain that Tony won’t wake up again, he puts his effort into the rest of the compound that Tony spends his time in.

Hours later, the kitchen is spotless. The living room looks like someone is actually living in it. And Tony’s precious lab is perfectly organised. Looking at it straight on, one might think it looks like a showroom. Peter might not have gone to sleep, and he might be exhausted, but knowing that seeing the room like this would make Tony happy- why wouldn’t he do it?

When Tony wakes up, there’s a banging in his head. But when he looks to his side, there’s a glass of fresh water, some pills for a headache, and a note just by the side of it. He sits up, taking a sip and grabbing the tablets. Once that’s dealt with, he takes the note, and he reads.

‘Morning Mr Stark!

I hope you’re not feeling too bad this morning :/! If you are then I’ve put a glass of water by your bed and a pack of pills I think should help? I’m not sure if they will, but they seem to do the job whenever I had a bad head because I stared at a screen for too long (pre-spiderman days, of course).

I hope you don’t mind- but I cleaned up a little. I thought it might make you feel a bit better to actually see your floor! Not that I’m judging, I’ve seen a lot worse! My best friend Ned used to have a room so messy we’d have to hang out in his little sister’s room. You know… those little dolls she has are quite fun to play with (maybe I’m just a big child).

Anyway- that’s beside the point! I just wanted you to know (if you remember) that everything I said last night was one-hundred percent true. You really are one of the best people I have ever met.

If you need anything, I assume you could ask Friday to see where I am. I’ll be here all day- just in case. If you don’t- that’s alright too. But I’ll be right here.

Peter:--)

Tony re-reads the note over and over again. He can’t keep telling himself that he doesn’t like having this kid here. There’s just so much love in that teen’s heart- even after all of this has happened. How he keeps optimistic, Tony will never know. It’s something he decides he’ll have to get better at, and maybe he just needs a little help from a friend.

“Friday? Where’s the kid?”

“Peter’s currently downstairs,” Friday responds, the familiar voice coming out of the speakers. “He’s in the kitchen trying to make breakfast. He seems to be failing.”

Tony smiles, managing to ignore the pounding in his head. He finishes the glass of water, bringing the empty glass with him instead of clogging up the room again. Once he takes a step out of his bed, he’s overwhelmed with how good it looks. How Peter did all of this… he’ll never know.

Tony walks to the kitchen, eyes glancing around the room as he takes in how fresh it looks. If the kid’s career as Spiderman, or CEO of his own company, didn’t work out… he’d have a good job in cleaning. Because- wow- it looks like a completely different room in here.

“Morning,” Tony announces. “Having trouble, kid?”

Peter turns around, all smiles. “Morning! Yeah, I don’t think I’m quite cut out to be a chef.”

“Let me do it.”

Tony walks out, grabbing the frying pan where- well… Tony doesn’t quite know what’s in there. He empties it out, grabbing four fresh eggs from the fridge. As he makes breakfast, he sees Peter watching him in the corner of his eyes. He’s worried. “I’m fine, Peter. And thank you for the note. It was lovely.

“Well- that’s fine, Mr Stark! As long as you’re okay, you know- I was quite worried.”

“I should be the one who is worried about you, Spiderman,” Tony says, obviously changing the subject (Peter doesn’t mind. If Tony’s not ready to talk, he won’t make him). “How did your ‘patrol’ go?”

“Oh, it was amazing! I helped so many people,” Peter responds. “That sounds a little egotistical, but I did! And they’re all so kind. It’s great that even in times like this, people will still be nice. Some aren’t, of course, but the majority are. And it’s that which makes humanity so special.”

“How do you even save people in that suit? I’m surprised you haven’t been really hurt yet.”

“There’s been some close calls.”

Tony bites his lip, worried. “Right… before we try and save the world, I need to make sure you’re- no, I mean it would be stupid to go forward in what you’re wearing right now. You’d be no help. So, uh, we’ve got to make you a new suit.”

“Really? That’s so cool!” Peter exclaims.

As their breakfast is done, and Tony’s headache slowly fades away, Peter looks up at the billionaire and smiles. He’s so glad they’ve got close(ish). Peter turns to face him, moving in for a hug- since he thought that’s how their interaction was going. But all Tony does is turn away- eyes wide out of fear.

“Not quite there yet, kid.”

After a rejected hug, and an awkward silence, the two heroes make their way into the lab to make a suit. And once that’s done, they get started on saving the world. Who knows if they’ll be able to do it? They just hope, if they can, that it’s soon.