I Can Say

I don't know where I'm going

But when I get there, I can say

That I have been the kindest me, that I can be

Can you say the same?

“Two broken ribs, five cracked ribs. His back was practically skinned. Bruises everywhere, including one on his upper cheek. Concussion. Dehydration. Severe malnourishment, which I’m assuming is what slowed his healing factor.”

“Shit.”

“I’m a doctor, Mr. Stark. I am obligated, both morally and by law, to report this.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Tony nodded to himself for a while, his eyes staring studiously at the tile floor. “Uh, what will happen to him?”

“Probably foster care.”

The room was silent for a moment.

“No that won’t do. Any other options?”

“Not really… Unless...”

“I’m a billionaire, Ms. Cho. If there’s another option I can handle it, no matter how expensive.”

“It’s not just money, Mr. Stark.”

“Lay it on me.”

“You could take him in.”

“Huh.”

Tony rubbed a hand over his chin. Having the kid around all the time was… oddly domestic. But he was surprised to find that he didn’t mind the idea. Ever since Peter came around, Saturdays have become his most anticipated day of the week, and now every day could be a Saturday.

God, what was he thinking? He couldn’t take care of a kid. A super-powered, vigilante, certified genius, traumatized kid.

“That sounds like a lot of paperwork,” he joked. Helen didn’t laugh.

“Whatever you do you should decide before CPS comes to take him.” Tony nodded.

He needed to talk to Pepper.

~

Peter woke up the next morning in that same plain white hospital room with the same too-bright lights. Tony was in the chair next to him and the boy gave him a small, tight-lipped smile.

“Hey, kiddo,” Tony said cheerfully. “How ya doin’?” he asked with a jerky head-tilt.

“Fine. I heal fast,” Peter responded honestly. His chest ached, those ribs would take a little longer to heal, and his back still stung some, but it was a vast difference from how he felt back at the apartment.

“You’d he’ll faster if you ate more. That’s why we have you on an IV, get some nutrients in you.” The man paused for a moment, his lips pursing slightly. “But you already knew that, didn’t you?”

Peter looked down at his hands. “I’m sorry, sir.”

“No need to apologize, Pete, you did nothing wrong. I just wish you’d told someone.”

“I told Ned,” he whispered.

“Ned can’t get you out of that situation on his own. He’s a minor.”

Peter sighed. “I know. But I couldn’t tell anyone else.”

“Why not?”

“Who would I have told?”

“Me?” The two locked eyes and the room was plunged into abrupt silence.

“No I couldn’t have, Mr. Stark.” Peter looked away, suddenly more interested in a hangnail.

“Why not?”

“Well because… Because I’m Spider-Man and I shouldn’t be so weak. Maybe if you saw how weak I was you’d take the suit away or something. And anyway, it’s not like I have anywhere to go. Ben is the last family I have left… I don’t want to go to foster care… not again. Besides, it’s not like I didn’t deserve it, I—”

“Alright, I’m going to stop you right there. You’re not weak. I can confidently tell you that half of the Avengers have been abused. That’s just the ones I know about. A lot of us are messed up, kid. Even me, you should’ve seen. Booze and parties as a coping mechanism, panic attacks after the Battle of New York for years.

“You need people on your side to help you get through that, even the strongest people can’t do it by themselves. I had Pepper and Rhodey and Happy. And you have Ned, but you also have us, you have me.

“And… it’s not like you didn’t deserve it? Underoos, do you really believe that? No one deserves that, okay? No one. Especially not you. We’re going to have to work on your self-worth once this starts settling down.

“And I would never let you go to foster care. I’m rich, I can do whatever I want. And if that means keeping you out of that shit then so be it. Besides—wait, again? You’ve been in foster care?”

“Yeah, I was placed with this guy… Skip… while my aunt and uncle were getting the paperwork to take me in after my parents died. He… wasn’t very nice.”

“We’re definitely getting you a therapist,” Tony said with a soft chuckle. He closed his eyes for a second. “Where was I in that wonderful speech I was giving? Ah, yes, place to stay. You have one.”

“I—no I don’t I just said that.”

“Ah ah ah, that’s where you’re wrong. I must’ve forgotten to mention… I want to adopt you.”

Peter blanched, his mouth parting slightly in surprise. “M-Mr. Stark you don’t have to do that.”

“You’re right. I don’t. But I want to, and I do what I want… So long as you say yes of course.” Tony looked at Peter’s face, suddenly nervous. His heart rate quickened when he noticed tears starting to well in the boy’s eyes.

“I hope those are tears of joy,” he joked. Peter nodded.

“Yes, yes. Oh my god. I don’t even know what to say.” Adoption. Tony Stark wanted to adopt him. Peter Parker, scrawny nerd, a teenager, a Lego-loving, Star Wars obsessed, enhanced burden. But Tony Stark wanted him.

God, he might just pass out.

“Good,” Tony said, a smile flashing across his face. “Glad.”

And what started out as a terrible situation became the best day of both of their lives.