Left Behind

The outer city of Midtown is bustling with a chaotic mess of people dreading their future, all out of place for such a weird time. People ignite whatever they can to show- well, who knows what they are trying to say? But that’s all that happens. And it repeats.

Peter remembers the city before. It wasn’t the nicest, full of people who turn to crime, hatred, and everything else they can think of. He remembers people surprising him every day. But it was his city. He’d walk out of his apartment and there was this big world out there waiting for him. Arm in arm with his aunt May, they’d grab a hot dog from the local stand and just walk out together with smiles over their faces. He misses it. A lot.

Stuck in the lab as Tony sleeps upstairs, Peter looks outside and sighs at the city skyline. What he’d give to save the world. To give everyone what they wanted. He’d give all of himself. He’d do anything. And if he’d close his eyes, all he’d wish for is this room to be full of the people he loves. Ben, May, MJ, Ned, and now that he’s moved in here- he imagines Tony right there as well. And he fits right in. Ned would lose his mind.

As he moves slightly in his seat, he winces from the pain in his side. Last nights patrol was tough. He was hit, probably stabbed if he remembers correctly, and fell a lot coming back… home (Peter wasn’t sure if he should call this home, but it sure felt like it). Lifting his shirt that he threw on when he got home, he sees the dried blood all over his torso and the bad bruise forming around it. It looks bad- but… it’s worth it. He saved that little boy’s life, and he’d do it again.

Taking a sip of his glass, he remembers he hasn’t put one beside Tony’s bed. They go their separate ways at night and Peter’s never sure if he’ll go to bed drunk, so it becomes a routine to put the water by his bedside. All Peter wants is for him to be okay- and he hopes that’s Tony’s thought process too. But if it’s not… it’s not like he’ll change his mind about it. He’ll love and care for him all the same.

With one more look outside the window, Peter’s on his way up the stairs. He steps into the lift, waiting patiently as he asks Friday (and, of course, he remembers his ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ to her, it’s what she deserves with all she does) to take him up. Tapping his foot on the floor, he looks at himself in the mirror and lets his smile stop. He sighs to himself. He looks tired, hurt, and stressed. He’s hardly been sleeping with all of this going on in his head- but it’s okay. It’ll be over soon.

Right?

The doors to the lift open and Peter steps out, walking straight over to the tap to pour a glass of water for Tony. But as he takes the glass up, they almost collide with each other in the hallway and the glass goes flying. Spreading all over the cream carpet, Peter panics and drops to the floor to try and clean it all up, but he only manages to rub it into the carpet more.

“Pete, it’s fine,” Tony tells him, kneeling to the young boy’s level. “Pete?” he asks when there’s no acknowledgement that he’s even there.

Peter sighs, sitting down on the floor with his back against the wall (and his legs all crossed). “I thought you’d still be in bed,” he tells him, smiling only a little when Tony joins him in thee same position.

“Well… I’m not.”

“I can see that.”

“Okay, what’s wrong? You’re being snappy- and Peter Parker is never snappy. Not the way I know him.”

“You’ve known me for like… a few months.”

“Oh, wow, there he goes again. I’m hurt.”

Tony smiles, thinking he’d make the kid laugh. But he just stares at the wall like he doesn’t hear a thing. It’s a little scary, and- although he was joking before, this really is nothing like his kid and it’s just… confusing (to the say the least).

“Hey, kid, I was just kidding-“

“Yeah, Mr Stark. I know.”

“But you are freaking me out a little. You don’t have to tell me- well, I would like it if you did. But you don’t… have to.”

“You’re so good at this ‘talking stuff’, Mr Stark.”

“Look, Pete. I’m trying here.”

Peter looks at his feet, taking a deep breath. Tony hears it and gets a bit more worried when he looks over and the kid is obviously holding something back. “Peter?” he asks, “…please. I’m worried about you. And I know I don’t tell you shit- and I act all grumpy and I drink myself- look, I’m trying to say that you’re the best thing that happened to me after the snap. In some horrible world where I never met you… I don’t know what I would’ve done.”

“Do you actually mean that?”

“Yeah, I do. Pete- you must know what I’m like by now. I can’t be the most expressive person you’ll meet. I mean- I know what feelings are and I do have them. It’s not like I’m allergic, kid, but it’s just not something I do. On the regular. If that’s what you need right now, then I am sorry- but… it’s not who I am. But I will be there for you. Whatever you need. That… I promise.

“…I’m about to say something that’s going to freak you out.”

Tony’s heart quickens, thinking that maybe something happened last night that has put the kid in this foul of a mood. He looks over, tilting his head to the side as Peter readies himself to say something he obviously has been wanting to do for a while. “Kid?”

Peter bites his lip, muffling his words by putting his head in between his legs.

“Peter,” Tony laughs.

Peter looks up, and he looks so vulnerable… so young, and so scared, and Tony knows in an instant that this is their destiny, and he was meant to be this kid’s ‘parental figure’, ‘cool uncle’, or whatever he was at this point.

“I….I love you. Like- like how I loved my uncle, of course. I just- you mean so much to me and I hope you know that.”

Peter was right, Tony does freak out a little. And he’s not proud of how he responds. Peter deserves more than someone saying “Oh,” and then staring down at the floor like he hasn’t heard what he said. But when the billionaire finally has that courage to look up… Peter doesn’t look mad? In fact, he looks relieved- as if he knew Tony was going to say something like that. “I…I- uh- lov-,”

“Mr Stark, you don’t have to say it back,” Peter says. “I know… well I think that you do too. If you didn’t, you wouldn’t keep me here. I get why you can’t say it, and I’m not mad.”

Tony nods yet decides not to press on this topic before he’s crying. Nobody wants to see that. At all. So, he comes back to the kid because he’s the one who is important here. “So, why are you up this early?”

“I’m always up this early. How else do you think your glass of water gets on your desk… sometimes. I mean- it’s on the floor today, but I tried.”

Tony chuckles underneath his breath, remembering every moment he’d sit up recently. It has been a wonderful few months, and that’s all down to the person next to him. A glass of water shouldn’t mean as much as it does, but when a little kid wakes up early so that he could have a glass beside his bed when he woke up… it tugs at the heartstrings. A lot. But when he thinks about why… he feels guilty. He’s the adult here, so why is Peter the one looking after him?

“I don’t say thank you enough for that.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I do- kid, you do a lot for me.”

“I like making people happy,” Peter shrugs, “it’s just something I do.”

“Yeah, and you’re good at it.”

“Well- I-,”

“Nah, kid,” Tony interrupts. “Let me just say it, okay?” And he only starts again when they’re looking eye to eye, their backs still against the wall and their legs still one over the over. “Bambino…”

“Bambino?”

“It’s- its’ nothing. As I was saying… you’re the best, kid. And whatever happened last night… and whatever it is that’s stopping you from telling me, just know that I’m right here waiting for you. The actual reason why you’re up this early? I think there’s something playing at your heart,” he tells him, using his index finger to point over Peter’s chest (which, unbeknownst to Tony, hurts just a bit), “that makes you think you need to help other people before yourself. And it’s good. You have a heart of gold, Pete. I know it was horrible circumstances that lead us together, but- but I’m glad we met. You mean as much to me as I to you. I can’t say it- I can’t say those words- but I do feel the same, kid. I’m scared that as soon as I say it… something would happen to you.”

Peter lays his head on Tony’s shoulder, “Thank you, Tony,” he whispers. “…And… I think I might have been stabbed last night and I’m not sure if it’s getting infected or not- and I’m just feeling a little overwhelmed.”

“…What?” Tony says, not moving his head just in case it would move Peter’s. “What do you mean you have been stabbed? The overwhelmed stuff is important, kid, and we’ll have that conversation later, but you’ve been stabbed? Bloody hell, Pete. That’s not something you keep to yourself!”

“Well… I didn’t want to be annoying. I’m already intruding- and I feel so much like a burden, Mr Stark. Putting this on you would’ve been another thing you didn’t need and it’s too much stress, you know? It’s just a little stab wound- I mean, it’s happened before. Once my best friend Ned had to help me stitch myself up after it happened for the first time.”

“Right, okay, you have to stop talking for a sec. I can feel my heartrate rising by the second,” he says to himself. Moving Peter’s head, keeping it steady, he pushes himself up and looks at the young boy on the floor with his hand on his hip. “Get up. We’re going to the med bay.”

“What? I don’t need the Medbay-,”

“No, now. Kid. You need it. God, it’s like talking to a mirror. No wonder Rhodey got pissed with me- there’s no common sense in not just going to the Medbay. I mean- what’s the worst that could happen? You’d get better? Oh, wow, that’s awful.”

“Mr Stark… you’re talking to yourself.”

“And you’re coming with me.”

Moments later, Peter’s in a long-forgotten bed after Tony spent some time sanitising the bed. He’d got his shirt up, holding it by his teeth, as Tony sits and stitches up the wound that luckily isn’t infected. He’s got these glasses on that Peter hasn’t seen him wear, even when they’re down in the lab, and he looks like’s concerned with what he’s looking at.

When the shirt’s down, the stitches are down, and the first aid kit is away, Tony still doesn’t look like he’s satisfied. Leaning over on the end of the bed, sitting in the stool with his torso over Peter’s legs, he looks up at the boy with a worried, yet fond, frown on his face. “You have a lot of bruises.”

“Spider-man… it happens,” Peter says sadly.

“I know. But you’re just a baby. They shouldn’t be on you.”

“I’m not a baby.”

Tony smiles, fiddling with the end of the cover Peter’s got under. “I know, kid. I know you’re not- you stopped being a baby the moment the world screwed you over. You haven’t been a ‘baby’ in a while, for all I know. But… it’s still weird to see someone this young like this, even if we’ve been here for this long.”

“…I guess I see what you mean.”

“The stiches are all done now, kid, but that means no patrolling for a while,” Tony tells him, getting up from his spot and pushing the stool underneath the bed. “And… just to make sure that happens, I’m going to ask Friday to help me out.”

“What- no! I have to!”

“No, you don’t.”

“God, you sound like my aunt,” Peter laughs, rolling his eyes. He crosses his arms, huffing, “Fine, I won’t patrol. For three days.”

“A week.”

“Five?” Peter bargains.

“…Fine. Five days.”

Peter gets up and they both make their way to the kitchen, seeing it’s about the right time of day to make lunch. They sit in silence as they eat their food, Peter consuming a lot more now that Tony’s figured out his secret about the enhanced metabolism.

“Kid?”

“Yeah?”

“How about you tell me about your aunt? You talk so much about her; she must’ve been a brilliant woman.”

“Oh, Mr Stark, she was the best. She was so selfless. She did everything for me even when we didn’t have enough to do so. She isn’t my biological aunt, only though marriage, so once my parents died- she had no obligation to take me in, and especially since Ben died. Others in her position would’ve thrown the kid into an orphanage the second they had the chance. But not May. She works… worked two jobs to get me through school. And she never expected a thing back. All she’d do is pretend we had nothing happening and take me on a walk-through Midtown. We’d get a hot dog together, sit on a bench and talk, and go home… I miss her.”

So… that’s where he gets his optimism from, Tony realises. No wonder the kid misses her, she was more like a mother to him than anybody else. And now she’s gone. It’s cruel- and Tony wants to fill in a little bit for him. So, he tries to forget his fear and offers to do one thing for the kid he told himself he wouldn’t.

“How about we… we go outside and do that same walk?”

Peter’s eyes light up, “Really? You would do that with me?”

“Of course, bud. I’d be more than happy.”

“But… but you don’t want to- you haven’t been properly out there since-,”

“Kid, I’ve found that there’s not much I wouldn’t do for you.”

And that sells it. They decide they’ll go out later, once they’ve found all the cold-resistant clothing to keep them safe from the snowstorm (well, it’s not quite that dramatic- but it is if you’re a billionaire who’s also an only child… only his butler would ever play in the snow with him… so he never really went outside in it).

Later in the day

It’s weird that before Peter, Tony never would’ve imagined himself doing something selfishly for anyone below the age of… well, for anyone. And now he’s crushing his fear of leaving his shelter just because the little one got all teary eyed. He must be magic, because the alternative of that is that he does love this kid… and that’s scary.

“Are you sure, Mr Stark?” Peter asks, and it must’ve been the fifth time that past hour he asked the same question.

“Kid, it’s just the outside. I’m sure I haven’t developed an allergy to the oxygen.”

“You never know,” Peter shrugs as he pulls on his hat and puts on his boots (which looks odd with the thin jacket).

The freezing wind whistles as Tony takes his first step outside without the suit. He’s got this giant coat on, and even then, he’s shivering. But the kid doesn’t seem to care (or he doesn’t want to show it) as he walks down to the gates in a thin t-shirt and bomber jacket over the top.

There’s snow on the ground that scrunches underneath every footstep, making such a sound that is so nostalgic of the Stark’s Christmases in their Canadian holiday home.

There’s that one speck of childlike wonder in Tony’s heart that tells him to reach down and craft a perfect snowball to pelt Peter with, but as he looks around and finds the city in shreds- that thought quickly disperses.

The gates open, taking longer than they normally do (and it sounds like it might need some maintenance, and Tony scribbles that down in the back of his mind for something he can distract himself with). Tony inches himself closer for Peter, covering his wrist with his gloved hands to make sure he’s safe.

“Lead the way, Parker.”

Peter does just that. He walks, talks, and smiles as they move down the empty streets. They move down the road where the hot dog stand should be, but all which is there is a pile of snow built up and covering the roads.

Tony doesn’t know what to say, because Peter’s face has dropped, and he misses his aunt like Tony does his family. Tony bites his lip, moving his hand up to around the kid’s shoulder.

“Look, it’s fine. I might not be a good cook but trust me- I can make a mean hot dog. All we need to do is get the stuff and it’ll be ready.”

“…No, no it’ll be fine,” Peter smiles, looking up at him with a soft smile. “Let’s just continue our walk. We can buy hot dogs another day.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.”

The hot dog stand is long forgotten as Tony lets go of the boy’s hand. Peter trails on, pretending like he doesn’t care, when he gets a snowball in the back of his head. It’s a shock, because he didn’t feel it coming- he didn’t sense it. But maybe it was because everything was safe around Tony and oh- was he going to get his own back.

Only two minutes later, if you would pass this street, it would be the only place that looked like the snap never happened. Laughter bounced of the buildings as the snow went everywhere, and it didn’t matter that it was cold anymore.

Snow kept falling, but neither of them went inside. And by the time the sun set, there was more snow on either boy than on the ground below. And the familiar glow which would be the Christmas lights was now with their smiles, so wide that it entices people to open their doors and brave seeing other people for the first time since the snap.

When Tony hears the first door, he immediately changes from this vibrant, playful, man he was in the news to a scared, shy, man… the same man Peter met on their first day together. Yet, as Peter introduces himself to the young kid dressed in their comfiest clothes to bear the cold, it all changes.

Tony sees the other side of Peter, the ‘spider-man’ half of him. He’s all smiles, kneeling down and asking the kid questions and acting like there’s nothing wrong going on behind the scenes. He gets these giggles out of the kid that are- well, magical, and it’s all because he’s so incredibly charismatic and kind that nobody else has a chance to be a hero just like him. Because he’s the best and nobody else compares. Not Steve, not Thor, not him, not Natasha… nobody. Who else would throw away everything painful, every heartbreak, just to see a smile out of another person’s face?

Tony walks out of the ‘shadows’ (just the other side of the street he darted to when he heard another person), smiling when he sees the progress of a half-assed snowman.

“He looks a bit cold; don’t you think?” He asks both children, one of whom he doesn’t know the name.

“Well, he is a snowman! He will be!” the little(er) one says, look up to see who just joined them. His little face lights up, “woah, Peter! That’s Iron Man! My papa said you left!”

Before Tony has the chance to react, Peter’s already ‘explaining’ it. “Iron Man’s real name is Tony Stark,” he whispers like a secret. “Don’t tell anyone but he’s actually undercover helping Spider-man out on a secret mission.”

Eyes wide, mouth open, the boy shakes his head in disbelief. “No way!” he says, his little body jumping up and down out of excitement. “What with?”

“It’s a secret,” Peter shrugs, “he didn’t tell me.”

“Oh.”

“But it’s okay, as now we now know everyone is safe! Don’t we?” Peter tells him, “And I know for sure that it’s going to be a good mission. Because that’s who they are, and that’s what always wins. Remember that, okay?”

Tony watches with pride, “that’s right, and my pal Spider-man is the best of the best, kid. How about you go and see if you’ve got a carrot for this amazing snowman- the poor thing can’t smell a thing!”

The little boy runs off back into his house, leaving both Peter and Tony alone, “don’t look at me like that,” the teen says, laughing, when Tony can’t stop looking between the two of them (the snowman and Peter).

“Why?”

“I just- you think I’m this saint.”

“I do. We had this conversation earlier. Also, I’m right.”

Peter chuckles, taking off his gloves and putting them on the end of the twigs. “I’m going to let you keep that thought, Mr Stark, but all I’m trying to be is human.”

The little boy runs outside with his family, a mother, and a little sister who she’s holding in her arms. They have a bag of carrots behind them, and their smiles are beautiful- all of them so much different to what they would’ve seen before. She introduces herself, they laugh, and she even thanks them for making things seem okay. She hasn’t felt okay since the day her husband left, and they have brought such a joy to her child that maybe one day they’ll move on.

Hearing that makes the selfish party of Tony’s mind sing. Should he just ignore Strange’s text message that he still checks every now and then? Should he pretend he never found that book and just live a life with Peter - the two of them as father and son? But if the kid found out, all he’d do is resent him for not trying to get their family back- and Tony does want everyone to here. Yet, he’s scared they’ll see him drinking and roll their eyes- of course, that’s exactly what Tony Stark does when he’s mourning for half the universe.

Thirty minutes later, happiness attracts the whole block out of their houses (or most of). Instead of a mob setting fire to a car, the group of people here sit down and catch up. The kid’s play together, throwing snowballs, and Peter leads the pack. Tony sits beside some adults on the sidewalk (the rest talking elsewhere on the end of the road), talking to them that everything will hopefully get better. They speak about how this is the first Christmas since the snap, and what happened on that battlefield. They thank Tony for what he tried to do- except the little old lady at the end of the line who has no idea who he is.

“So, which one is yours?” the older lady says, pointing to where Pete’s making snow angels with the younger kids. He looks happy. The adults stare at her, making her put her hands up with a grin on her face. “What? What are you looking like?”

“That’s Tony Stark, Betty, he doesn’t-,”

“The oldest. His name’s Peter.”

They all smile, knowing Peter’s not actually his- but they see the love he has in his eyes when he looks over. “Well, he clearly loves you- I’ve never seen a kid look at their dad with so much pride and admiration. He is proud of you, son,” Betty says, squeezing his shoulder.

“Thank you, mam.”

“Attractive and well-manered,” Betty raises her eyebrows, “Hm, you’re quite the catch- aren’t you?”

Peter comes running over just in time, saving his life. But he has no jacket on and is shivering so much Tony thinks he’s ill. Getting up from where he’s standing, Tony throws his jacket off and puts it over Peter’s shoulders with a thrown. “Where the hell-,”

“The snowman needed it,” Peter says, “I’m fine- you need it more than me, I can just-,”

“You’re having it, Peter. Jesus,” Tony shakes his head, turning the boy around and putting the zip together. He pulls it up until it’s done up, making sure it’s warming him up before he puts his hand over his forehead to make sure he’s not too cold. “The snowman may need a coat, but so do you.”

“Try saying that to a kid,” Peter pouts. “He looked so happy, Mr Stark- I just couldn’t.”

“I know,” Tony smiles. He leans down, pressing a kiss to the boy’s hairline. “I think it’s time we’re off now. Why don’t you go and say goodbye?”

Peter runs off, and Tony turns around. “And you guys don’t be strangers. If you need anything, just let me know.”

“What we need is to make sure you’re okay. You and Peter are welcome to drop by anytime for dinner, or if you need to talk- not that I expect you’re someone that finds that easy,” the mother of the first boy Peter spoke to says, “you brought this community back together. Thank you.”

When they get home, Peter is buzzing (and Tony’s freezing). They’ve had the best day together, and Peter hasn’t stopped smiling as they sit together and watch a film he’s had on the list for ages. It’s a good film, great even, but Tony finds himself watching the smile more than what’s on the TV. To know he was a little bit of a reason behind it makes him like this- yeah, it’s a good feeling.

Tony’s in bed that night, thinking- he knows he needs to go and see Strange. But… what if he loses Peter after all of this? He can’t do that, he really can’t. If there’s a way he keeps him, he’ll do it. Get back what they lost, sure, but keep what he’s gained… it’s crucial. Just as he’s mid crisis, his mind begging for a drink and his heart saying no, Friday lets him know Peter’s leaving the building.

He’s up before he knows it, “Peter?” he calls, watching the boy walk towards the exit. “Are you patrolling?”

“No, no- I said I’d take them some food- you know, the people we met today? And some Christmas presents. Some… stuff. I just feel bad that they might not have enough?”

“Okay, kiddo,” Tony smiles. “I believe you. Now, go! Take some money for them as well.”

“If you’re sure, Mr Stark.”

“Yeah, I’m sure!”

“Well, I’ll see you later!”

As Peter leaves, Tony watches out of his window. He’s so selfless, and that’s the person Tony needs to be. He needs to be prepared to lose Pete for the rest of the world, even if it kills him. If he’s lucky, he wouldn’t remember, and he’ll never know the most amazing kid he lost. But he’d rather that than know and to never get it back again.

But he has to, doesn’t he? He must.

Getting in the suit, Friday prepares a flight plan that’ll take him straight to Dr Strange. On the way he sees the street, and there’s still a few people outside. If he takes a longer look, maybe he’d see boxes of different food, money, presents and decorations that the kid’s putting outside every door.

What a crazy ride they have ahead of them… maybe they should’ve just stopped and been a family of two with a bunch of friends around the block… but that’s just not who they are.

They’re heroes.