“Where are you, Pete? It’s nearly five,” Tony said, when Peter picked up his phone. The teen always came ‘round on Friday’s after school and was always in the lab by four. No alerts had gone off, and the kid’s vitals were steady- he’d checked them twice- so the mechanic was more curious than concerned.
There was the sound of muffled whispers and a series of footsteps. A door closed, then Peter finally answered.
“I’m fine, Tony, just lost track of time. I’m on my way.”
The kid didn’t sound hurt, but there was something off in his voice.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Tony asked. “You know you can tell me, whatever it is.”
“Yeah, I know I can,” Peter said, and the older man could hear the soft smile behind it. “I’ll be there in ten.”
“Alright, kiddo, see you soon. Swing safe.”
The call ended and Tony went up to the kitchen to get some snacks for his mentee. If the kid was starving when he came ‘round at four, he’d definitely be starving now that it was after five. He took out the breadsticks and humous that the kid was obsessed with, and then set to work slicing up some fruit. He and May had decided that just because Peter needed to eat insane amounts of food, it didn’t mean that he couldn’t still eat healthily.
By the time the kid swung through the window of the kitchen that was always left open for him to use, a bowl of fresh fruit was laid out on the island, and Tony was sipping a steaming cup of black coffee.
“Hey, Pete,” he greeted. “I got your spider-snacks out, figured you’d be starving after coming here from wherever you’ve been.”
The question was silent, but the teen sat at the stool and fidgeted his hands in his lap.
“Yeah, I am pretty hungry,” he said with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.
Realising that he wasn’t going to get his answer, Tony tried again.
“F.R.I.D.A.Y. said you were in an apartment building, were you visiting a friend?” he asked, opting for honestly.
“Kinda,” the kid said vaguely, unceremoniously stuffing some of the grapes and kiwi slices Tony had chopped up into his mouth. The mechanic assumed this was to avoid answering the question, but Peter should have known better. Tony didn’t rest until he had answers.
When the kid swallowed his mouthful of fruit, he saw that his mentor was still looking at him carefully, and resisted the urge to roll his eyes.
“We both know that you’ve already checked the apartment file and run a full background check,” Peter said, but he wasn’t upset. If anything, he sounded fond.
Tony shrugged in a what-can-you-do? manner. “Yep, you know me too well,” he confirmed, popping the P. “So who’s Miles? The file says he doesn’t go to Midtown.”
Concern settled tightly in the older man’s stomach as he watched the kid drop his gaze to his lap.
“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to kid, I was just helicopter-parenting like Barton always says,” Tony backtracked, suddenly feeling guilty about pushing the topic.
Peter shook his head, still avoiding eye contact.
“I want to tell you,” the teen said. “I should have told you ages ago, but I don’t think I was ready to.”
“Well, I’m always here for you, kiddo, always. You know that.”
“I used to be in foster care,” Peter admitted, so quietly that Tony strained to hear it. “When my parents died when I was five, I was put in a home for three weeks before they contacted May and uncle Ben.”
He sounded like he was admitting something shameful, and it broke Tony’s heart. He put an arm around the teenager’s shoulder, pulling him in close. The younger hero fisted almost desperately at the back of Tony’s shirt like it was a lifeline.
“The guy that ran it wasn’t . . . very nice. But, um, I met Miles there when we moved in on the same day, and we looked out for each other. He was still there when I left, but he got adopted by a really nice couple four months in. We still check up on each other every now and then but-“
A choked noise escaped the kid, and Tony raised one hand from the kid’s back to cradle his head, holding it gently against his chest as he cried.
A few moments passed with them like this, Tony murmuring reassurances into his ear, before he pulled back enough to keep talking.
“His adoptive father was killed last week,” Peter continued, quietly. “Shot. And I- I know what that’s like, so I went to see him last week. He’s really upset, obviously, and I couldn’t just leave him with this, so I’ve gone every day since then. I think he’s finally starting to feel better about it.”
Tony was speechless. His kid was just so good.
“I’m really proud of you for doing that, Pete. Having to relive what happened with your uncle can’t have been easy, but it’s very brave of you to do that to help your friend,” he said, meaning every word.
“Yeah?” Peter asked, eyes red and shiny with unshed tears.
“Of course,” Tony said. “I know you always say that Spider-man’s braver than you, but he’s still Peter Parker. And Peter Parker is the bravest of us all.”
A beat of silence passed, as the younger hero took in the gravity of that statement.
“I should have saved his father,” Peter eventually said, hoarsely. “That’s what I’m supposed to do.”
“Oh, kid, this isn’t on you,” Tony rushed to reassure him. “Bad things happen because bad people make them happen. You stop bad people every day when you’re out on patrol, but we can’t stop everyone, Pete. I wish we could, but we can’t.”
Something angry flashed across the teen’s face, and Tony knew immediately that he felt the unfairness of the situation.
“I should be able to stop them- what’s the point of being Spider-man if I can’t save one man from being killed? What’s the point?” he demanded, his voice raised. Tony didn’t take it personally.
“The point is that you get to save people every day, and I know that you save every person you can when it’s possible. You’re a hero, Peter. People don’t call Spider-man a hero for no reason- you earned it by being a good person. And you are a good person. The best.”
“Sometimes I wish I wasn’t Spider-man,” Peter confessed, like he was admitting to murder. “Does that make me a bad person?”
Tony shook his head. “It makes you human, kiddo. Responsibility is a terrible burden to have to bear, but that’s the name of the superhero game, unfortunately. I wish you didn’t feel so much duty to be out there helping all the time, but that’s what makes you such a good person.”
Peter sighed, and rested his head against Tony’s shoulder.
“M’tired,” he mumbled. “So tired.”
“I know you are, kid. How about we skip the lab session and just watch a movie instead?”
Peter looked up at him through his lashes.
“Is that okay?”
“I hardly slept last night,” Tony said, which wasn’t necessarily a lie, but he was stretching the truth. “It’d be unsafe for us to be working if we’re so tired. The responsible thing to do would be to put Empire Strikes Back on so we can rest a bit, wouldn’t it?”
“Mmhmm,” Peter agreed sleepily, his eyes closed. “We gotta be responsible. Don’t want Pepper to be angry with us.”
“She was pretty angry when I fell asleep in the lab and let my materials explode by accident,” Tony conceded, as he slowly guided Peter to the sofa.
“F.R.I. put Empire Strikes Back on for the kid, please. And lights to 15%.”
“Yes, Boss,” the A.I. answered, and the lights dimmed as the Star Wars movie began playing quietly.
Tony glanced down, unsurprised to see the kid’s head in his lap.
Peter was already asleep, his face relaxed and the least stressed he’d looked since he arrived.
Tony smiled to himself, and fell asleep a few minutes later.