Chapter 1
As soon as Tony opened his eyes, he knew it would be a bad day.
He lifted his head up from his desk, and looked at the time; eight AM. He hadn’t slept much, considering he slept sitting up, and there was a cramp in his neck along with a headache. He just felt sick, and there was a sinking hole in his chest that meant that it was also one of his depressing days.
“Good morning, boss. You have a meeting at eleven, and Mr Parker will be visiting at three. It is currently 42 degrees fahrenheit and cloudy, and will rain in the afternoon,” FRIDAY informed him.
“Thanks FRI,” Tony nodded, groaning as he wiped a hand across his face. He was a mess. “Will Pep be at the meeting?”
“Yes. She will be arriving shortly to pick you up with Mr Hogan.”
Tony sighed in relief. Pepper would make it more tolerable. She understood his bad days, knew how to make them better, and heck, he enjoyed her company. She made him a better person, considering she actually had common sense.
He slowly got up from his chair, muscles aching the entire time. Each step to the elevator felt like agony, and all he wanted to do was stay in his workshop and work or fall asleep on the couch. He didn’t have the energy to pull up the metaphorical mask that he put on whenever he felt like this, but he knew that after a coffee, he’d feel a bit better.
Tony got cleaned up, showered, and put on his new suit. Just as he was straightening the tie in front of the mirror, Pepper entered the room, holding two cups of Timothy’s coffee.
“Hey, honey,” she pressed a kiss to his temple.
“Is that coffee for me?” Tony asked hopefully.
“Good morning, Pepper. Hello, Pepper,” she said sarcastically, but smiling all the same, handing him a cup. Tony embraced the warmth of the cardboard in his hands, breathing in the scent.
“Thanks,” he took a short sip, testing the temperature.
“You almost ready to go?” she asked, sitting in the wicker chair that usually held all of Tony’s ties until Pepper yelled at him to clean it up.
“Yeah,” Tony answered, putting down the coffee on a shelf and grabbing a suit jacket. “How was Florida?”
“Hot. Humid,” she smiled, staring at Tony through the mirror. “I missed you.”
“Missed you too,” he shrugged on the jacket and grabbed the coffee again. “How do I look?” he asked, spinning around, letting the jacket lift up around him.
“With your eyes,” she smoothed out a few wrinkles, smirking slightly at her own joke. “Anything you should grab?”
“I’ve got the USB here,” he patted his jacket pocket. “Starkpad here,” he patted his breast pocket. “I think I’m good.”
“Happy’s waiting for us,” she brushed a few strands of hair out of his face. “You feeling okay?”
“I’ve been better,” he admitted, nodding.
“Did you sleep okay?” Pepper asked, her eyes calm and soothing,squinting slightly in concern.
“I couldn’t. Went down to work, and fell asleep at the desk,” he whispered, letting the facade fall. Just for Pepper.
“You’re okay,” she whispered, squeezing his shoulder.
He put a hand over hers and squeezed, then headed out to the car. Happy had the heat on and the seat warmers turned up, so it was like stepping into a sauna. The windows were fogging up, and it had a heavy feeling to the air.
“Jesus, Happy, you trying to bake us?” Tony joked, putting the mask back on. He was fine.
“Sorry,” Happy turned down the heat, just enough so they weren’t going to pass out. “Any music requests?”
Tony didn’t answer, so Pepper took liberty in choosing the music. “Best of Elton John.”
“You and that man,” Tony said, pulling the seat belt across him.
“He makes good music!” Pepper said defensively. “I won’t leave you for him, if it makes you feel better.”
Tony just smiled and turned to face out the window. The car started, and they pulled out of the parking lot to Rocketman booming from the speakers.
Tony couldn’t help but notice how much the grey sky reflected his feelings.
--
The meeting was decent. The company that they were partnering with was very cooperative, which made everything much easier on the negotiating and prices and the like. Pepper seemed very pleased with the outcome, but Tony literally could not care less.
He just wanted to go home and hide in his workshop, beating the shit out of something with a hammer while AC/DC blares from the speakers.
“Boss, Mr Parker is arriving in one hour,” FRIDAY reminded him once he was safely in his workshop, his suit and tie discarded in a chair.
“Oh, god,” Tony sighed, throwing on one of his band t-shirts. He had forgotten about the appointment he’d made with the kid, and all he wanted to do was call him to say that something came up and he wouldn’t be able to have Peter over. He just wanted to be alone today.
But he didn’t have the heart to cancel it. Happy had sent screenshots of the text exchange in between him and the kid, and Pete had seemed so happy, texting in only capital letters and a whole bunch of unnecessary exclamation marks. He was so happy just to have someone relay the information that he was invited to the compound to work on new suit upgrades, and Tony, no matter his public image, would never break the kid’s heart like that.
So, Tony went upstairs and grabbed the entire instant coffee container. He’d need it to keep up with Peter’s seemingly unending supply of energy. Literally. Even listening to the voicemails he leaves Happy makes Tony wonder how much sugar the kid had eaten before sending it.
He glanced at the time; he still had a good thirty minutes before Peter would make an appearance. Tony just cleared off a space of counter (by literally swiping his hand across the entire thing and shoving random bits of machinery into drawers) and called it Peter’s working space. Whatever the kid wanted upgraded, he could work on himself, and hopefully Tony could summon up a bit of resilience and tell Peter to only ask him for help if he absolutely needed it. Tough love, right? That’s how people build character, teaches kids how to become independent.
Nah, that was too much like his dad.
In no time at all, just as Tony had started on his own personal project (getting rid of dents on the arm of his suit by attempting to hammer them out but really only causing more dents in the process), FRIDAY announced that Mr Parker was at the door.
“Let him in,” Tony put down the hammer and summoned as much energy that he could.
“H-hi, Mr Stark, sir,” Peter grinned up at him, and Tony found himself smiling for real. Happiness was contagious.
“Hey, Pete. You got your suit?” Tony asked, and Peter nodded, pointing to his backpack. “Well, I’ve got a few upgrades that I need to plug into it, and then once those are loaded, you can code anything else you’d like into it. If you need any instruction, feel free to ask, and make sure I go over anything new you write in just in case. Any questions?”
“What’s the software?” Peter asked, taking his suit out.
“Notepad plus plus. Have you used it before?” Tony took the suit from Peter, plugging it into the computer on the space that he cleared for him.
“Yeah,” Peter said. “At our school. We have to make robots and stuff and everything.”
“Alright. FRIDAY, update the suit. Pete, code whatever you want. I just need to work out some dents in the armour and then, well, we’ll figure out something to do if we have time,” Tony turned back to his armour, grabbing his hammer once again and hitting it repeatedly. AC/DC turned back on, and once Tony looked up again, Peter was hard at work, fingers flying as he worked on upgrading something.
Tony reattached several plates together that had fallen out in his latest escapade, and zeroed in on his work. There were several times he had forgotten that the kid was here, as Peter mostly kept to himself and Tony got so absorbed in his work that it was only once Peter started muttering to himself that he looked up in surprise and remembered that he had a guest over.
“But if I do that, then, no, that’s not going to work,” Peter said softly, scrolling through the long list of code. “But if I change the variable to-”
“You have to put in the percentages,” Tony said, suddenly appearing beside Peter.
“Jesus Christ!” Peter jumped, clutching his chest. “Don’t do that!”
Tony grinned. “I’m not Jesus, but we’re frequently compared,” he joked, then read over the line of code Peter was working on. “You just have to change the ‘if-then’ to ‘if-then-else’. Or else there won’t be any space to put in another exponent,” he explained. “And then put in the percentage of light you’d like filtered in during that ‘then’.”
“But how do I measure the amount of light that’s hitting the thing?” Peter asked, gesturing to the eyes of his suit. “I want it to be the same light all of the time, if I’m in broad daylight or if I’m inside.”
“Look it up. Here; FRIDAY, pull up the code on the stupid Apple product,” Tony gestured to another screen, and the code appeared on there. “Even though their phones suck compared to ours, they have a special sensor that senses how much light there is and adjusts the screen brightness to make sure that it’s comfortable for the consumer. Look for it in the code and copy it for your suit.”
“Does my suit have the sensor?” Peter asked, already starting on trying to find the line in the Apple code.
“No. But once you figure out what it is, I’ll find one for you,” Tony winked.
“But Mr Stark,” Peter whined.
“C’mon. You’re a smart kid, you’ll figure it out,” he clapped a hand on his shoulder. “You can do this.”
Tony returned to his usual table, fished out a small plastic box and put it aside for when the kid finally figured out what he needed to do. As he returned it is reassembling the suit, he realized that his heart felt lighter than it had that morning; and it wasn’t just the coffee that had made him feel better.
Goddammit, it was the kid.
Tony stole a quick glance at Peter, who held his face an inch away from the screen in order to read the script, and he grinned. The kid reminded him so much of himself as a young child, smart, always learning more, and always wanting to learn more. Tony saw the light bulb go off in Peter’s head, and he whipped around, turning to face Tony.
“I need some sort of photoelectric device!” he called out. “Then it measures the electrical signal and it can adjust accordingly!”
“Correct,” Tony picked up the little box that he had left out, and pulled out a thin strip of some sort of bendy material. He placed it on the desk beside Peter’s suit. “This is a special device; it’s flexible, so it can be placed anywhere. I recommend putting it near the eyes, because, well, that’s where you’re going to be looking out of, right? Unless you’re secretly more spider than I thought and you have six more eyes hidden somewhere.”
Peter eyed the tiny strip with two wires coming out of it, completely ignoring the joke. “How?”
“Here,” Tony grabbed some nearby tweezers and pulled out a wire, disconnected the two then braced it together with the device. He pushed the wires back in, pressing until it all seemed in place. “It’s connected to the wire powering the eyes; code accordingly.”
“But won’t it completely mess it up? If the signal is blocked by the device, then the eyes won’t receive power anymore,” Peter protested.
“Actually, it’s just an extra signal; it’s not an insulant. Feel free to add any extra wires if you don’t feel like telling your suit to ignore the extra signal until it reaches the main computer frame,” Tony shrugged. “Just remember that you’re going to have to figure out where to put them.”
Peter shook his head, biting his lip in concentration. “So I just have to add in the, the thing?”
“Yes, add in ‘the thing’,” Tony rolled his eyes, doing air quotation marks. “Just make a new event. You know how to do that.”
“Okay. Thanks for the help, Mr Stark,” Peter turned to face the computer, adding a new event. “So when this signal received, if signal greater than y is true, lower light to x percent? And vice-versa for the false?”
“You got it, kid,” Tony smiled, retreating to his suit to work. He soon fell back into the rhythm of the placing and testing and adjusting accordingly, but every once in a while he would turn and grin at the kid, who was hard at work.
Tony pulled up his calendar to see the next time he could schedule in Peter, already looking forward to the next visit.
--
“Are you free tomorrow afternoon? We’re in dire need of cleaning out the others’ rooms,” Pepper asked Tony as they both got ready for bed.
It was a rare time when Pepper wasn’t at the office, and Tony wasn’t at his workshop. Heck, it was only ten, this was probably a record bedtime. He hadn’t gone to bed before eleven in ten years, it seemed.
“Can’t- the kid’s coming over,” Tony shook his head. “Also, just keep the rooms as is. We don’t need to clean them out.”
“Peter’s coming over? For the second time this week? It’s been like, the fifth time you’ve invited him over this month,” Pepper raised an eyebrow, but Tony could tell that she was happy for him. He had found a distraction other than alcohol.
“Yeah. He’s, well, I don’t know. He’s good for me, I think. It helps. It’s been way too empty around here since what happened with the accords, and Pete just makes it better,” Tony tried to explain.
“Do you think we’ll ever be able to clean out their rooms, then? With Peter as your therapist?” Pepper teased, but he could tell she was somewhat serious.
“Why do you want them gone so much?” Tony asked, his tone accusing.
“We could make room for more people; maybe we could actually hire interns and house them in those spaces. I just don’t think that keeping Steve Rogers’s room as is, collecting dust, is the most efficient way to grieve,” Pepper explained, and Tony flinched; they had avoided saying their names since the big mess that was made.
“I’m not grieving. I never was grieving,” Tony protested, forcing his face back into his usual impassive self.
“Sure, you weren’t,” she said sarcastically. “I don’t mean to be miss pessimist over here, but do you really think they’re going to come back?”
Tony was silent, pulling the covers around him, staring up at the ceiling. He honestly didn’t know what to think.
He missed the team. He missed being apart of something, especially something that had received much praise and was practically worshiped around the world. He missed the team bonding Mario Kart games, Wii Sport games that always had them shouting at each other and ganging up to beat Captain America’s high scores. He missed having people to spot for him, to spar against, to train with. But then again, they had always seemed so distant with him than with each other, so it wasn’t really like he lost all that much.
Just his dignity. And his sense of family. And ninety percent of the friendships he thought he had.
Pepper kissed his temple. “It’s going to be okay.”
Tony nodded slightly, grabbing Pepper’s hand in his and bringing it to his lips. “G’night, Pep.”
“Goodnight.”
“Lights, FRIDAY,” he said, and the lights suddenly dimmed, leaving nothing but the glow from the housing casing of Tony’s suit that he could summon at any notice. It felt comforting, even though he knew that he probably didn’t need it in his home, but old habits die hard. It had taken a lot of convincing to be able to keep it at his bedside table, but Pepper finally gave in when he used the PTSD card. Not that he was proud of it.
Pepper had wound him up too much, and he knew that he wasn’t going to get his thoughts to quiet down anytime soon. It wasn’t her fault, she didn’t know about all of the times that he lay awake in bed, unable to fall asleep due to his train of thought going on the frickin’ Trans-Siberian railway without stopping. But honestly, talking about Steve Rogers before hitting the hay? That was bound to at least stir up some kind of memory to think about while he was supposed to be getting some shut-eye.
Tony waited another hour, until Pepper’s breathing had evened out and he was sure she was asleep, before getting out of bed. He made his way downstairs to the old common room, where there were open cases of video game DVD’s left out on various surfaces, mugs strewn about on the counter, and for the most part, it looked lived-in. But Tony knew that the mugs were probably stained with the old coffee and that all of the cases with mismatched discs were collecting dust. Everything had gone by too fast, and the room hung with the sort of heavy energy that Tony feels whenever he recalls a memory that feels lonely.
He sat in the chair that Steve used to sit in, the one that faces the window, and all of the city lights with all the noise and light pollution irks him somehow. It’s like he should be able to enjoy a quiet and clear night, but he can’t. All because of the human race developing and inventing and polluting while calling it advancing.
Tony suddenly realized why Steve sat here so often, even during those late nights and early mornings when Tony had gone up for more coffee and seen the shadowed figure just staring out of the window. When Captain America was younger, before the ice, he probably would’ve been able to see the stars and just hear the crickets of nature. But here, in the city where nothing ever stops, all he could see was the light from the buildings and the noise of the traffic below. Tony made a mental note to make some sort of planetarium dome where it could simulate being in the country before he remembered that Steve wouldn’t be there to enjoy it. It left an empty feeling in his chest.
“FRI, is Pete out patrolling?” Tony whispered, not trusting his voice to not crack.
“Yes,” his AI answered.
“Could you pull up a live video feed?”
“Of course, boss,” FRIDAY answered, and a hologram popped up on the table beside him, a dizzying view of buildings whipping by as Peter swung himself from building to building, finally resting on a roof, grabbing a bite to eat, before swinging down and fighting crime.
Tony fell asleep in the chair to the comforting thought that his kid was at least doing some good in the world.
--
“Hey, kid. There’s Doritos on the counter. FRIDAY will help you locate things. I’ve got a deadline on this project, and as much as I love you, please don’t pester me too much,” Tony greeted Peter at the door.
After the first visit, they had fallen into a routine; Tony works on whatever project he has going on at that moment, and Peter upgrades his suit, adding whatever he thinks is necessary. He always makes a refill of web fluid, and every once in a while something explodes, but they’ve both learned that it’s nothing serious. Usually.
Tony could look up, mutter something while snapping his fingers, trying to remember what he needed, and Peter would look at him and say something like “Nitrogen and hydrogen. NH3.” and Tony would look at Peter, point to him, and say “Ammonia,” and Peter would nod, and then Tony would then add the chemical compound to his suit because that’s what Peter thought was missing and therefore it was missing. Also it helped that Peter had super-hearing and could hear what Tony was muttering and it happened to be that he brain-farted and forgot what cleaned titanium.
It was damn useful, and even though Peter was still young and naive and dare Tony say, ‘not as smart’ as Tony was, it was still great to have a lab partner ever since Brucie left.
The kid nodded, grabbed a handful of chips, and started working on the web fluid. Tony returned to his work, asked FRIDAY to play his playlist, and grinned when the song ‘Iron Man’ by Black Sabbath began to play.
She was advancing well; even though she was still relatively new compared to JARVIS, she learned quickly.
Tony returned to his work; he was trying to build smaller computers, smaller engines, smaller things in general so that his suit would, ultimately, be smaller. It also helped that it would revamp cars, phones, just about anything that moves and/or needs a battery. It would give things tons more space for other upgrades. As soon as he completed the prototype on the suit, and tested it to deem it safe, it could be adapted to be placed in pretty much any technology that Stark Industries produces.
He shoved his hand inside of his Iron Man suit to retrieve the prototype repulsor charging unit, but felt a sharp pain in his wrist as he did so. He immediately pulled his hand out, and hissed when whatever stabbed him the first time tore through his skin again.
“Fuck!” he yelled, clutching his bleeding arm. Peter glanced up at him in surprise. “I mean, fudge!”
“I go to high school, Mr Stark. I don’t mind swearing,” he said, looking at his arm that was rapidly turning red with blood.
“But you should. You’re twelve. Could you possibly hand me that towel there, Pete?” Tony asked, nodding his head in the direction of the towel sitting on his desk, blood already spilling over his arm, onto the ground. Whatever had cut him had cut him deep and vertically, but shouldn’t really be any cause for alarm. He’d done worse.
Peter grabbed the off-white towel (it used to be white, but there’s only so long it could stay that way in the company of an engineer) and placed it on Tony’s arm, mopping up the blood. Dum-E rolled around holding a first-aid kit and Peter startled.
“That’s Dum-E. He’s a dummy, but he’s generally harmless, unless he’s holding a fire extinguisher,” Tony awkwardly opened the first-aid kit with one hand and gave Dum-E a pat with his foot, and he rolled away.
“He’s like a dog,” Peter noticed, staring after it in wonder. “And you built it?”
“Yup. MIT years. Anyway, there’s something in the kit that says ‘butterfly bandages.’ Fish those out for me, could you?” Tony asked, pressing hard on the towel to put pressure on the wound. He folded it up, placing the towel only on the cut, hoping that it would stop the bleeding faster if it had more weight on it.
Peter found the bandages and placed it on the table. Tony gingerly removed the towel, making a face when the cut pooled with blood again. “This isn’t looking too good,” he noticed. “If those bandages don’t work, I’ll need stitches.”
“Mr Stark, what are those lines?” Peter asked innocently.
Tony looked down at what Peter was referring to, and his heart nearly stopped. The long-old scars left on his wrists from his teenage years were only visible to people specifically looking for them; how Peter had managed to spot them was at first surprising, then he remembered his heightened sight.
Tony pulled his wrist away from Peter, moving the bloody towel to cover his entire wrist and not just the cut. “It’s nothing. Just workshop accidents.”
“You sure? Those kinda look like,” Peter stopped. “Like-“
“Like cuts you’d get from reaching into heavy machinery?” Tony finished for him. “Which I do quite a bit?”
“But Mr Stark, they’re ladder cuts-“
“We’re not doing this,” Tony sighed, leaning back into his chair.
“But if you’re hurting yourself then-“
“Pete. Peter. Kid,” Tony covered his face with his non-bloody hand. “We’re not doing this. Not now. Not ever.”
“Mr Stark-“
“I think you should leave,” Tony removed the hand from his face and pointed at the door.
“But-“
“Now!” Tony yelled out through gritted teeth, and the kid just looked so sad and guilty that it kind of broke Tony’s heart.
“S-sorry,” Peter stuttered out, retreating to unplug his suit from the computer and hastily shoving it in his bag while he hurried out the door, not meeting Tony’s eyes.
Fuck.
The door closed with its usual click; but Tony has never heard it be so loud before.
And then he couldn’t breathe, dammit.
He discarded the towel, throwing it over his shoulder. He was still dripping blood, but that was a minor incident compared to what had just happened. He had yelled at the kid. He had ruined things with the kid. Oh god, the kid knows about, about the things he used to do, about the things he still did every once in a while when it all got too much.
Peter knows.
He huffed out a strangled sigh, ripping off his shirt and wrapping it tight around his arm. He’ll get medical attention later. When he’s calm. As in not now. Because his mind is too fast and all his thoughts are blurring together and he’s shaking, and he can’t breathe, because oh god, the kid knows. Nobody is supposed to know. Only Rhodey and Pepper know, and those guys took years to build up trust, and this kid comes around and breaks down every single wall Tony has built up since the beginning of time and figures it out before Tony is ready, because in all honesty Tony was never planning on telling Peter. Peter was not supposed to see this side of Tony.
His kid knows.