Chapter 1
Peter knew he had screwed up, maybe. Maybe rushing into a burning building to save three kids was reckless, yes, but it wasn’t stupid, like Tony thought it was. Peter had been able to tell- the firefighters wouldn’t get there in time. So could Tony really blame him for compromising his safety to ensure that the kids would get out? The answer, apparently, was yes. Yes he could.
“But I’m fine.” Peter said, dragging out the word for emphasis. “And what else was I supposed to do?”
“You were supposed to wait for help to come.” Tony gritted out disbelievingly.
Peter carded his hands through his hair, willing Tony to understand. “They wouldn’t have made it in time.” he elaborated. “I-- I know it was dangerous. It wasn’t an ideal situation. But I did the right thing, and I’m not going to apologize for it.”
“You could have gotten hurt! The building was up in flames, it could have collapsed, you-- you…” Tony trailed off, sucking in a breath in an attempt to control himself. Peter ignored the heavy knot of guilt that settled in his chest, clenching his jaw.
“So, what?” Peter questioned, “What was I supposed to do, Mr. Stark? Was I just supposed to let innocent kids die because the situation was dangerous? It’s my job to help people, I--”
“Suit.” Tony spat out through gritted teeth.
Peter stumbled over his words. “I-- I… what?”
“Give me the suit.”
Peter blinked, surprised, before he glared, determination in his stance, “You can’t do that! You promised you wouldn’t do that again--”
That was true, Tony mused, and somewhere he knew that taking away the suit wouldn’t mend the situation, but in the moment he couldn’t bring himself to care. He clenched his jaw and stepped forward, grabbing Peter’s wrist.
“Peter, give me the suit now, or I swear to God I will--”
“Boss, you appear to be hurting Peter.” FRIDAY interrupted.
Tony’s eyes snapped up in panic. He glanced at Peter, who winced, glaring up at the place where he knew FRIDAY was watching.
“What?” Tony asked, his voice wavering slightly.
“I suggest you let go of his wrist to prevent serious bruising.” FRIDAY replied coolly.
Tony pulled his hand away immediately, his eyes widening. He had been hurting Peter? He hadn’t meant to-- he couldn’t even recall holding Peter’s arm roughly. But then he glanced down, and took note of the cuff around his wrist. It had been a prototype he had been testing-- meant to enhance a person’s strength, to be used in situations when he couldn’t access his suit, when he got the notification from Peter’s AI that he was in serious danger. Tony, in his haste to get to his kid, hadn’t bothered to take it off.
Tony chanced a glance at Peter’s wrist, feeling positively sickened when he saw bruises start to form. They reminded him sharply that his father used to do the same thing. Tony’s breath stuttered.
“Mr.-- Mr. Stark?” Peter asked, sounding apprehensive.
Tony didn’t reply- he couldn’t reply. He’d threatened to take Peter’s suit, and then… then he’d hurt him. He had hurt Peter. And when Peter had tried to explain the situation, earlier, he hadn’t even stopped his yelling to listen. Great. He’d officially turned into his father. He stumbled back, back, away from Peter, who had reached out a stabilizing hand.
“No,” he gasped, hand flying to his chest. Breathe. Breathe. He had to breathe, he couldn’t do this in front of the kid. But even that thought-- which usually successfully grounded him whenever he started to lose it in front of Peter-- did nothing.
“Mr. Stark?” Peter's tone was tinged with alarm, “Are you hurt? What’s wrong? I--”
“Kid,” Tony ground out through clenched teeth, seeing stars as he squeezed his eyes shut, “Leave.”
Okay, maybe that wasn’t the most eloquent way to phrase it, but he didn’t care because he was panicking in front of Peter and he couldn’t breathe, fuck--
“Mr. Stark, don’t-- I don’t--”
“Get out, Peter!” Tony snapped, vaguely aware that his voice was raised beyond what it should be.
The hurt look on Peter’s face only made him spiral more.
No, wait--
He opened his mouth to say something-- apologize, maybe, try to explain, anything to get that expression off of the kid's face-- but when he finally managed to gasp in enough air to talk, Peter was gone.