“So do you want to tell me about the bruise?” Tony tentatively asked the boy. His hands were nervously shaking in his lap, but he tried to keep his face confident and calm. Now was definitely not the time to have a complete mental breakdown or a panic attack.
Ever since he had taken a more parental role in Peter’s life, he had tried his hardest to keep his anxiety under control. Taking care of a little person, and yes Peter was a little person regardless of his complaints that he was not a child, was hard as all heck and he needed to be strong for Peter. He understood that his anxiety disorder didn’t and couldn’t always leave him alone, but he would try to keep himself strong if only for Peter’s sake.
He didn’t want to push the boy too hard, after working so thoroughly to gain his trust over the past couple of year, but he would regret not asking at all even more. He could never watch the teenager, who he considered for all intents and purposes to be his son, be visibly upset and not attempt to make it better. And when Peter had come over today all mopey and head hung low, Tony knew he had to get to the bottom of it before their lab day and movie night was over. His need to comfort the boy had only solidified when he saw a suspicious bruise shaped like a handprint, large and purple and splotchy against the boy’s upper arm.
The kid was Spider-Man, so Tony was used to seeing him scraped up and bruised. He usually bit his tongue and only fussed over Peter a minimal amount. His parenting style could definitely be summed up by superhero bandaids and juice boxes and Tony was proud of that. He was the cool dad, thank you very much.
But there was something very different about this bruise. This wasn’t a getting punched by a criminal type of bruise or accidentally swung into a building type of bruise. No, this was a somebody grabbing him type of bruise. It looked like someone had gotten fed up with the boy and grabbed him or shook him and god the bruise looked like it hurt and Tony couldn’t stand the thought of somebody daring hurt Peter.
So yes, Tony had finally gotten the courage to ask Peter what was wrong. He had tried to keep quiet all throughout the time they had been working on the boy’s web shooters and when he had cut up apple slices for a snack and even throughout the movie they had watched. Peter had blushed bright red when he admitted to the man that he really wanted to watch Tangled, but didn’t want to seem childish and feminine in front of someone he looked up to. Tony had sushed the boy and given him a soft half hug, running his hand through Peter’s curls in a comforting manner. But he finally snapped when Peter looked so miserable while they were eating dinner and the last straw definitely was when the boy’s sleeve shifted and the edge of the bruise was on full display to the man.
However in the moment that followed, he wished that he had just let it be and not pushed or maybe brought it up in a more subtle way that wasn’t him flat . He wanted to scream and berate himself when he saw Peter’s soft features contort into a grimace which was even more upset and alarming than his previous expression. He really did want to keep his anxiety in check and not freak the boy out even further, but he couldn’t help but feel the anxiety clawing at his chest and making it hard to breath or focus of really do anything even the slightest bit helpful (including comforting the clearly distressed boy).
A large string of cheese, from the pineapple and olive pizza that was halfway to his mouth, dripped onto the counter the boy was perched on and it landed next to his thigh with a little plop. The boy’s legs, which had seconds ago been wildly pumping and kicking back and forth as he rambled about science with his mouth full, had stopped kicking and were now resting against the cabinet on the lower side of the counter. And worst of all, a single tear ran from the corner of his eye to his chin and the boy scrunched them closed. His curls bounced and flopped as he shook his head no and Tony wondered if he was saying that he didn’t want to talk or was somehow trying to chase the feelings of his sadness away from him.
Tony dropped his own piece of the disgusting pizza (only his kid like pineapple and olives together) back on his plate. He was seated on a stool like a civilized person or more likely a middle aged man who was not nimble enough to sit on the counter like a teenager, but nonetheless hoisted himself up onto the counter next to the now shaking boy. He grabbed the piece of pizza and dropped it onto his own plate a second before he was sure Peter would’ve dropped it onto the floor.
Gently the man placed his arm around Peter’s shoulders, making sure that there was no pressure on the bruise. He tucked Peter’s head into the space under his chin, pulling him close and feeling his kid’s soft curls against his skin.
“I’m not trying to pry, but I hate seeing you said and that bruise looks real nasty kid.”
Tony could feel Peter’s breath ragged and shakey and the feeling of the boy’s tears landing with little thuds against his skin made his heart break into a million pieces. He reminded himself over and over again that now was not the type to have an anxiety attack. He feared if he let his emotions run away and take a hold of his entire being, that Peter would break and that the boy would never be ok again. He needed to be strong for both of them.
The flat side of Peter’s hand worked itself onto the space on the side of Tony’s neck. The boy’s hands were as cold as ice, but Tony did not complain and rather let the boy’s fingers poke and prod at the spot where you could feel the man’s pulse. It took him a couple of minutes to realize what the boy was doing, but when he realized that the kid was using his heartbeat as an anchor it made him feel anchored as well. There was something so undeniably intoxicating about Peter using his heartbeat to keep him grounded in this moment. It made him feel wanted and loved and useful and somewhere deep down inside Tony needed those feelings to be a whole and complete person.
“Is it bad that I believed her when she said she didn’t mean it.” Tony’s heart seemed to stop when he heard those words. Who was this ‘she’ that Peter was talking about, who hurt his kid and bruised this precious boy’s skin.
“She promised me last time that it wouldn’t happen again, she swore it was an accident and she even told me that I wasn’t allowed to tell you about it.” Peter continued and then oh god this can’t be what Tony fears it is. This bruise can’t be from who he fears it is from. But then Peter continued talking and with one sentence his entire world seems to stop. “She’s my Aunt and I know I’m supposed to love her, but this… well this isn’t the first time she’s hurt me Mr. Stark and well we were talking about abuse in health class and I know this sounds stupid, but I didn’t know that it was abuse when your family hurts you. But now, well now I can’t stop thinking about it and I feel like I’m drowning and I think I need help Mr. Stark. I really need help.”
Tony feels like he is seeing red. How could May ever fucking do this to Peter? How could he hurt this perfect, amazing, brilliant boy she was supposed to love and protect? How could she put this kid, his kid, in danger like that? How fucking dare May Parker, for abusing and hurting and bruising her son. She had no fucking right.
And now he felt trapped in his own thoughts. And he was staring at his own skin like he could still see the bruises from his own father that had faded decades ago and he could actually see the faint scars from broken beer bottles on the insides of his arms. And he was hyperventilating now and he wasn’t sure if it was over Peter’s abusive parent or his own and all he knew was that he was clinging to the boy like he was a lifeline and the only good thing in this entire world.
“Hey, hey Mr. Stark… I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t have said anything and I’m sorry. Please don’t be angry or leave. I’m sorry… I’m so sorry” Peter is rambling now and crying and he his hugging Tony tight and they are both shaking like a tree in a hurricane.
Tony feels like he is on the brink of a full out PTSD flashback to his childhood, but listening to Peter apologize over something he should never ever ever be apologizing for feels like a slap in his face and now he he is counting his breath to the rhythm of Peter’s heartbeat. Every Time he blinks he sees Howard on the back of his eyelid. The man’s fist and his belt and a beer bottle flying at his face and oh god, he feels like he is being sucked into a giant wormhole of pain and destruction. He can feel the phantom injuries on his skin, red and hot and searing, but when he looks down at the boy curled into his chest he knows that he needs to pull it together and try his absolute hardest to ignore the thoughts of his past that feel so all consuming and terrifying.
This is his moment to break the cycle of shame in both his and Peter’s life. This is the time he gets to prove that he is a good dad and far better than the abusive parents that have done nothing positive for either of their lives. He is not Howard Stark and he is certainly not May Parker and he is going to try his damn hardest to protect and love Peter in a way a parent should.
It wasn’t like Howard gave him the best example of parenting and of love, but Tony knew enough to understand that what May did to Peter was abusive and not in the slightest bit ok. He had the resources and the unconditional love to protect this sweet boy in his arms and he wasn’t going to make the mistake of letting May Parker anywhere near his kid ever again.
When Tony speaks, his tone is soft and calm. He is trying his hardest not let his anger at May bleed into his voice, terrified of scaring Peter. The boy already is fragile enough and Tony’s words are carefully chosen to be comforting and not alarming. “You don’t have to love people who abuse you,” Tony can feel Peter’s entire body stiffen at the word ‘abuse’, but he keeps on talking regardless. “And it’s even worse if she told you that you weren’t allowed to tell me about it. She is manipulating you and hurting and I swear that I will never ever ever let her hurt you again. This is what they do, kid. They tell you that they won’t do it again and that they love you and they beg you to believe them when they say the didn’t mean to hurt you. But this,” Tony ran his fingers over the exposed part of the bruise on Peter’s skin. “Is hurting you. And this is abuse and it’s not ok. It’s not fucking ok kid and I refuse to let you go back to a house where a parent his hurting and abusing you.”
Tony’s entire body is once again shaking and now he is hysterically crying to the point of hyperventilating; and he can not tell if it’s due to memories of his own father or the hurt boy he feels like he can not properly protect.
One of Peter’s small hands is now running through Tony’s hair. The boy is gentle massaging his scalp as the other hand brings Tony’s larger one to his own heart.
“Try to breath with me, Mr. Stark” His voice is so small and a tiny part at the back of his brain is screaming at him that this his job and not Peter’s. He is the dad and his trauma happened years ago instead of the mere hours ago the boy’s had occurred.
But he is hyperventilating and having a full out panic attack and in this moment he lets himself melt into the affection of the boy and the sound of his voice. “I’ve never pushed before, because it really isn’t my place…” The boy paused to sniffle wetly, clearly still crying. “But I think our parents were similar to each other. I’ve noticed the way you flinch when someone comes to close or the way you seem to be caught in the past sometimes and well… maybe we can be broken together.”
Tony is feeling slightly calmer now, after having timed his breathing perfectly to the boy’s. But he feels like he is going to completely break once again when he hears Peter softly speak.”please don’t make me go back to her, Mr. Stark. I really do love her, she’s helped me through so much and she’s had a hard life, after losing Uncle Ben and all, but I don’t think I can do this anymore. She’s hurt me so much, not only physically. I mean ya, the bruises hurt. But I heal fast, being Spider-Man and all. What really hurts me is the words. When she tells me that she hates me or that I’m worthless, it feels like a part of myself withers up and dies.”
Peter pulled away from the man and Tony has never felt more alone in his entire life. The boy then hopped off of the counter and he pulled his entire body in on himself, making himself look smaller. He seems cautious and Tony also hops off of the counter to stand in front of the boy.
Tony gently places his hand on Peter’s chin, physically bringing the boy’s head up until his tear filled eyes meet his gaze. He ran the pads of his finger’s over his pale skin, taking deep breaths and focusing on the way Peter leans into his touch.
The way Peter reacts to his touch makes his entire body feel like the live end of wire. It makes his heart swell and his breath even out and his hands stop shaking. It feels like a drug. This boy in front of him feels like his entire reason to exist. He is on this earth to help and guide and protect and maybe Peter was the second chance he never knew he needed.
He spent his entire early childhood being abused and hated by his family. He was terrified and so fucking young and it manifested in a way that caused him to act out in his teenage years and into his early adulthood. Like the stereotypical trauma survivor, he was hyper-sexual and prone to traumatic reenactment. He acted out for attention he never received and instead only hurt himself in the process. This led to making dumb mistakes with his business and then trusting people he never should’ve trusted. And that didn’t even scratch the surface of the trauma of being kidnapped and left to die by his mentor and saving the planet and fighting one of his best friends who was another person who left him to die. And holy shit, he was fucked up.
He was broken and traumatized and an emotional mess. He was just trying to make sense of this world, but he often failed and that sucked. But he refused to fail at his relationship with Peter.
To be quite honest, he didn’t feel good or worthy enough to be Peter’s dad. He felt like he was going to fuck it up and fail, because the only example he had was Howard Stark- who had fucking ruined him. But maybe this was his chance to rebuild and prove that he wasn’t as ruined as Howard had led him to believe he was.
Tony stepped forward, pulling Peter into a tight hug. He ran his hand through Peter’s curls and cradled the boy to his chest like he was the most precious and important thing in the entire universe. He had missed out on Peter being an actual baby, but to him his kid would always be a baby. He envisioned, one day when they were away from this hell, falling asleep with Peter next to him while he ran his hands through his son’s hair or maybe sang a soft Italian lullaby. He imagined going on picnics in Central Park and baking oatmeal raisin cookies and maybe even going into a career day at the kid’s school.
He wanted nothing more than to live a perfect domestic life with his kid. A life where both of them were undeniably happy and Tony would do anything to make this dream a reality. If that meant adopting the kid or fighting for custody or even bringing May up on child abuse charges, then he would do it. He would do anything for Peter.
“I promise you are never going back to that woman again. I already consider you a son, but we’re going to make it even more official. Ok, kid? You can stay here and I can’t promise that the learning curve won’t be difficult and I can’t promise that I will be the best dad. But I can promise that I will never lay a single hand on you. I will never be May…” Tony swallowed, letting himself feel vulnerable. “ or Howard. And I know you feel broken, but I’m broken too Peter and we can be broken together.”
Peter let out a big snuffle before hugging him even harder than Tony had originally managed. “I love you dad.”
Tony felt his smile beaming from ear to ear. “I love you too, kid.”