Chapter 1
Tony never wanted to care about the kid. He never expected to, either. If he was being honest with himself, he’d never liked kids much to begin with. Even the idea of having ones of his own had never appealed to him- well, not until recently, but...no, it wasn’t important at the moment. Just a thought. What was important, right now, was Peter. Why wouldn’t it be? It wasn’t like he had a multitude of other things to worry about, right now- the Stark Expo, the issue with the malfunctioning Iron Man Suits, the spat with Pepper- let’s call it a spat- , the hiatus-that-was-probably-a-break-up of the Avengers- and that was only a small percentage of the worries and issues that currently plagued his mind. So it was only reasonable, in his mind, anyway, that he was more than a little irritated when he got a call just after he’d set his phone down and closed his eyes, only for a moment’s rest. With a grunt, he leans over, picking up the vibrating cell phone from the coffee table. As soon as he picks up, the caller speaks.
“Hey- Tony? It’s May.”
Oh, Christ. This can’t be good.
“Hey, May!” Tony says, putting as much pep in his voice as is appropriate for an entirely unexpected phone call at just past 7pm. He would be lying if he said it doesn’t take effort. “Is everything alright?”
“I was just going to ask you that, actually. How’s Peter? He’s not answering his phone.”
Tony is quiet for a moment, brow furrowing.
“Why are you asking, May?” He asks quietly. “You don’t know?”
“I thought you would.”
“...why?”
“Because he said he was with you.”
And that’s when Tony knows his night is about to go very, very downhill.
-
Tony really needs to learn not to give tech to kids. It's obvious, or, it should have been, now that he reflects on it. Would you give a diamond ring to a baby? No, of course not. They're expensive and valuable, and, babies being babies, an infant is likely to shove it in their mouth, choke on it, and kill themselves. The bigger the ring, the more dangerous, too. So, why, oh why did Tony think it was a good idea to give Peter such high tech equipment? And even more so, give it to a smart kid! Smart enough that he’d have the brains to hack into Tony’s carefully laid programming and shut down or cancel any functions that would allow Tony to know of his whereabouts, and more importantly, protect him! Is Tony mad about this? Absolutely. But even more than that, he’s worried. The kid would only shut it off if he was doing something he knew Tony wouldn’t agree with and try to shut down, and the billionaire’s got a feeling he didn't go on a coffee run at one of the cafes downtown.
God.
He’s tried calling him repeatedly, but of course, there’s no answer, which isn’t a surprise. He got in touch with Ned, too, but he hasn’t seen his friend in a few hours. So all that Tony’s got is some lie from Peter about being with the stressed out billionaire, an aunt who’s worried sick over her missing nephew, and the beginning of what’s probably a migraine going. Fantastic.
He’s gotten a bit creative with his voicemails, which range from irate and semi-threatening:
“Peter, it’s me. Kid, if you don’t pick up the fucking phone, I swear, so help me-”
To pleading, bribing, which is very unlike Tony:
“Kid, come on, please. Just answer the phone, or call, or text, or just come here, or to May’s- I promise you won’t get in trouble, we’re just worried sick, please let us know you’re okay-”
To faux relaxed and at ease:
“Kid, it’s me, again. I’m a bit calmer now, sorry for losing my temper. Just check in, please? Let us know everything’s good.”
It’s safe to say that none of his calls have been returned.
He’s tried convincing an obviously frantic May to come over to his place, cause he doesn’t really feel that being alone and panicking is the best idea at the moment. His efforts are in vain, however, with May insisting that she had to be at her apartment when Peter came home. Not if. When.
Tony wishes that he could be as hopeful, but he’s afraid past experience has robbed him of that possibility.
He hates being helpless, hates feeling useless. He’s the Tin Can Man with a Plan! He likes having a blueprint, likes knowing what’s happening, and when pieces aren’t where they should be, it seriously sets him off. He’s got a brief thought of grabbing the suit and doing a flyover, scoping the city, but he knows that wouldn’t be any use- who’s to say Peter’s in the city at all? He’d almost certainly never find him. So he busies himself with thoughts of what he’ll do to Peter when he gets a hold of him- will he kill him? Hug him? Maybe hug him, then kill him. God, is this how Howard felt when Tony pulled one of his stunts, back in his ‘rebellious’ teenage years? If it is, then he can’t blame his father for not really bothering with Tony- kids are a headache.
He wishes Pepper were here, but she promised she’d be working late tonight, and Pepper never breaks a promise. It’s one of the things he loves about her, he can trust her with anything. It’s also one of the things that make this situation so much worse- the fact that Tony not only screwed up, but took that for granted. Pepper is a woman who deserves the world and nothing less, and that Tony can’t give it to her due to his own stupidity is immensely frustrating for the billionaire. If he hadn’t been so moronic, he might have had her here, calming him down, reassuring him that everything would turn out okay, and even if it didn't, they’d face it together. Or maybe she would be angry with him, take part of the weight from his shoulders, so he wouldn’t have to carry it alone. If Tony hadn’t been so stupid, he wouldn’t be sitting on this damn couch, his chest starting to ache from panic, from the crushing, squeezing knowledge that Peter is his responsibility, that if something happened- happens- to him, that it’s on him, and-
“Sir- your breathing has become labored, and your heart rate has increased. You seem to be experiencing the beginning of an anxiety attack.” The calm, familiar voice of J.A.R.V.I.S breaks through Tony’s thoughts, and he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t thankful for it. “Would you like me to guide you through some breathing exercises?”
Tony shakes his head, finding J.A.R.V.I.S’s voice to be enough to bring him back down to earth, stopping the attack before it could get far.
“No, thank you. I-I’m alright.” he says, and runs his palms over the fabric of his jeans, sighing out quietly. He doesn’t really know what’s going on, with this. He used to be relatively okay, under stress- maybe he didn’t have the most healthy of coping mechanisms, but aside from that, he dealt with things. But now, ever since New York...he’s more and more on edge, he can see it. At times, it feels like the smallest thing, like spilling a bit of a drink when he’s pouring it, can set him off, make him want to cry or scream or hit something, make his chest feel tight and his palms clammy, fingers shake. It’s one of the things he hates about humans and loves about machines- they don’t have to deal with this kind of stuff. If coded properly, built correctly, a machine can tackle pretty much any problem within its range of abilities with relative, admirable ease. Even more so, in the case that the issue is outside of their field, another machine with the capability steps in and gets the job done. Why can’t it be that easy with humans? People expect you to be able to handle anything and everything they throw at you and more- at the very least, they expect you to try and tackle it. An inadequate mind is less than suitable for such situations, and the added burden and heavy weight of emotion doesn’t make things any easier. It’s at times like these that Tony envies machines, even the most irksome and inconvenient, like Dum-E, for instance.
“Sir.” Once again, J.A.R.V.I.S pulls him from his thoughts, and Tony blinks, nods, swallows down the lump in his throat.
“I’m alright, J.A.R.V.I.S.” He says, but he knows the A.I isn’t convinced- honestly? He’s not sure if he himself is. Scary when you can’t fool yourself with your own bullshit, isn’t it?
“Sir, I highly suggest you contact someone who can help, you can’t handle this situation on your own.”
At this, Tony can’t help but laugh a bit, and it sounds a bit crazy when he hears it. Who the fuck would he talk to? Pepper’s made it clear that she’s had enough of him for the moment, the Avengers are good as through, Rhodey’s off on some assignment or something...he can’t think of anyone.
He has no one.
Tony’s not sure how he feels about that.