Puzzle Pieces
Everything started when Peter was four, or at least, everything started for Tony, by four, Peter’s life was on track and the billionaire wasn’t even aware of his existence. When Mary and Richard Parker died however, Tony was greeted by an official will. For some reason, at quarter past three on a Friday afternoon, the genius was finding out that the recently deceased scientist he may have slept with awhile back, had apparently given birth to their child. Unbeknownst to him, she had raised the boy with her husband quite happily for four years, not seeing it necessary to even tell Tony about it. He wasn’t as scared as he thought he would have been upon finding out he was a father, more disappointed he hadn’t known until the kid was four.
He cancelled the single meeting Pepper had scheduled for him that afternoon and spent the rest of the night researching. The boy, his son, was named Peter. Peter Benjamin Parker, who now lived with his aunt and uncle, May and Ben Parker. It took him another three days to work up the courage to get in contact with them. He didn’t know why, but Tony feared they would dislike the idea of him, the rich playboy that was known for leaving every press event with a different person on his arm. Surprisingly, they were kind and fully understanding of his absence for the first four years, they even went so far as to meet him and explain everything they knew about why Mary didn’t tell him.
She had thought he wouldn’t want any involvement, with his work on top of his reputation, plus she was in love with Richard Parker, and it wasn’t practical to even consider raising a kid with the billionaire at that point in time. He surprised himself with how badly he wanted to be in his kid’s life, but May and Ben were fine with it. Of course, they all agreed to wait until Peter had settled into his new life with his aunt and uncle, Tony didn’t want to immediately tell him how they were related, instead opting to be introduced as a friend of May and Ben’s. He waited a year, a painstaking year, filled with getting to know the couple, keeping tabs on how Peter was doing and preparing himself, mentally and emotionally, for meeting the kid. His kid.
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His hands were shaky, and he fisted them in the pocket of his pants after knocking on the door. He stood, biting the inside of his cheek and staring at a stain on the hallway carpet a few feet away. A lock clicked and then May was opening the door with a wide smile.
“Hi, Tony, come in, come in.” She shut the door behind him and seemed to notice his rigid stance, “relax, he’s gonna love you, I know it.” Tony blew out a breath and straightened his back more, following her into the kitchen where Ben was sat at the table with a small kid leant over a puzzle. The boy’s feet didn’t even reach the ground, they swung erratically beneath the chair as he rested his chin on one elbow and moved pieces around with his spare hand. Ben looked up and smiled just as kindly as May had.
“Tony, nice to see you again,” he waved his hand and stood from the chair, motioning the mechanic to step forward into the room. “Pete, remember I told you we had a friend coming over today?” The boy looked up at his uncle curiously and turned in his chair to look behind him. Tony nearly gaped when he saw the large, doe eyes that twinkled with innocence and a hazel-coffee tint. The kid was small, just like he had been at that age, with a mop of light, brunette curls that contrasted to the darker eyelashes and pink cheeks he had. “Peter, this is Tony Stark…” the small face smiled shyly at him and the billionaire felt his stomach flip. “Tony, meet Peter,” May came to stand beside Ben and they both looked excitedly between the two.
“Hey kiddo,” he said lightly, feeling utterly overwhelmed but shockingly okay with it all. He sniffed and tried not to think about how obviously lost he must have looked in that moment.
“Hi Mister Stark,” Peter chimed with the smile still on his face, waving slightly and laying his hands on the back of the chair before resting his chin on them. “Do you like trains?” The question threw him for a loop and he blanked for a moment, Peter looking up at him questioningly. He didn’t really have an opinion on trains, he didn’t use them so often considering he had a private jet and a personal driver, but he wasn’t about to explain that to a five-year-old.
“Y – yeah, sure do. Why’s that?” He surreptitiously dragged his hands over his hips, wiping away the clamminess he could feel from inside his pockets. Peter, on the other hand, didn’t look phased or nervous at all, but that was most likely due to the fact that he had no clue the man standing in his kitchen was his biological father. He turned back around to the puzzle and tapped the box with a small hand.
“It’s a steam train,” he said matter-of-factly. He looked to his lap then up to Ben and May before shuffling back around and peering at Tony. “You wanna help?” Ben flashed him a quick, subtle thumbs-up and he swallowed anxiously before nodding once.
“Sure thing kid,” he forced himself to walk forward and only hesitated a moment before slipping slowly into the seat Ben had been in before. The puzzle was about quarter of the way built, all of the corner pieces were in place and majority of the boarders had been sectioned. Several random assortments of four or five pieces were assembled and set off to the side, next to the piles of all the singular ones that had been sorted by colour. Peter pointed with a tiny finger at a pile that consisted of all whiteish, grey and black shaded pieces.
“That bit’s the hardest, all the smoky stuff looks the same,” Peter was testing out every single red piece in a small space with a trio of other red ones. Tony nodded thoughtfully and started to connect some of the smoke pieces, heeding the boy’s warning and smiling to himself. Ben and May sat on the couch in the living room, which was part of the large first room of the small apartment, watching the two happily and looking at the father encouragingly. They worked in relative silence, Peter fidgeted a lot but then again, Tony’s leg bounced under the table and he bit his tongue in concentration much like how the child nibbled at the entirety of his lower lip and chewed thoughtfully as he connected pieces together.
After not too long, Peter went to jump from his chair and stood next to Tony, close enough to reach out and touch. “Want some juice Mister Stark?” He kept walking and hopped onto a stool carefully, so he could reach a glass and then wait patiently to see if Tony needed one too.
“I’m alright for now, thanks though.” He eyed the boy who poured himself some juice from the fridge and moved slowly as to not spill any. When he sat back down he didn’t immediately start working with the puzzle again, instead he looked across the table at Tony almost analytically.
“How did you become friends with my Aunt May and Uncle Ben?” He asked, quirking his head to the side and clutching his juice. He stilled his movement on the puzzle and looked over to the couple, who picked up the silent question he was asking, ‘how do I answer that?’ He genuinely didn’t know how to, it’s not like he could tell the truth because firstly, it would mean talking about Mary, and he didn’t know if Peter would be upset by that, and secondly, he wouldn’t be able to work around the whole ‘I’m your Dad,’ aspect of things.
“He knew your Mum Pete, through work, remember all the science?” He winced and hoped that May’s mention of her wouldn’t upset the boy. Peter just nodded and took another careful sip of his juice before speaking again.
“I have a friend too,” he said happily, resting the glass beside him and starting to work on the puzzle again. “I met him at school on my first day, his name’s Ned,” he bit on his lip again as he was lost in the intensity of sorting through various shaped pieces.
“That’s right, you’re five now, so you started school, how was that?” Peter found the right shaped piece and connected them with a smile. Of course, he knew how old Peter was and when he had started school months ago, he had gotten all the details of his first day from May and Ben when they went out for coffee.
“It was good, I like all the science we do.” Tony nodded interestedly and let Peter ramble about all the experiments they did, like mixing corn starch and water or learning about the planets. May and Ben had told him how Peter was already excelling at school, joking that he really did seem to take after Tony with his intellect. When the boy got too invested in the story he was recounting, he would stumble over some words but plough forward gleefully and grin up at him with sparkling eyes. He didn’t even track the time but noticed the sun beginning to lower around the same time Peter was made a grilled cheese, which Tony refused politely when he was offered one too. The time went quickly and so did their progress on the puzzle, before he knew it he was handing Peter the last piece and beaming proudly when he pushed it down into place. The boy laughed freely, and his cheeks went rosy as he smiled right back. “You did all the smoke pieces so fast, we finished in a day!”
“That’s a new record, good job Pete,” May called proudly from the living room, her and Ben looking thankfully at Tony. “It’s nearly dinner, you’ll need to wash up in a little while,” she reminded. Ben put a hand on Peter’s shoulder and nodded, impressed, at the completed puzzle.
“Tony, can you stay for dinner?” Ben asked while Peter jumped to the ground and looked excitedly to him.
“Can you, pleeeeease? Uncle Ben’s making spaghetti!” He bounced on his heels and stared up at him with puppy eyes, holding the edge of the table and rocking back and forth.
“If he’s okay with it,” he answered, flashing a glance at the man and raising his eyebrows in question.
“I think it would be very nice if Tony stayed for dinner,” Ben smiled to Tony while Peter ran to the bathroom to wash his hands. “You’re getting along nicely,” he said, putting a pot on the stove and starting to prepare the food.
“Just like I said they would,” May entered the kitchen and stood at the table, beginning to put the puzzle away. “I knew he’d love you,” she said positively, moving the box into the lounge just as Peter barrelled out from the bathroom and came to stand beside Tony.
“You wanna see my room Mister Stark?” He asked eagerly, pointing down past the living room. May nodded encouragingly again as he breathed in the smell of Ben’s cooking and took in the sight of his kid, balancing on his heels and swaying easily.
“Sure thing kiddo,” Peter grinned and reached out for his hand willingly, giving a light tug in the right direction and leading him down the hall. His hand was soft and warm, leading him outside his door and pushing it open enthusiastically. It was a relative sized room for the small apartment, there was a single bed and a desk with stationary and completed school work. The decoration was minimal, a few unframed posters and a lamp here or there, the obvious furniture like a dresser and a shelf filled with books.
“Do you like it?” Peter asked as he jumped onto the bed and rumpled the covers.
“I do, it’s very cool. I like the curtains,” they were dark and littered with little white stars, a small silhouette of a rocket sat at the bottom.
“Yeah I do too… Mister Stark?” Peter slid off the bed and touched his sleeve gently, “are you gonna keep visiting?” His voice was small, but it didn’t waver, he looked up at Tony with something that could have been hope in his large eyes. The mechanic bent down so he was closer to Peter’s face level to answer.
“Yeah, yeah, I think I will kid, if you don’t mind of course.” Peter beamed widely and nodded his head quickly.
“I don’t mind, I really don’t. You’re good at puzzles,” something in Tony relaxed when the boy reacted well to his answer. Just because he hadn’t been there the first four years doesn’t mean he wouldn’t be there for the rest of them, even if it was just as a friend of May and Ben’s at first. Peter led him back to the kitchen, keeping his hand in Tony’s with a fixed grin on his small face. They all sat at the table for dinner and he watched Peter’s curls bouncing as he spoke frantically about anything and everything that interested him.
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In the coming years Tony would often visit, he brought new puzzles with him until the kid grew out of them, occasionally when Peter got a good grade or won an award in school he would bring the boy something more, like a microscope or even once, when the kid was bumped to the extension science class, he made a compact projector. He demonstrated it for the boy, switching off the lights and putting the small device in his outstretched hands, pressing the button to turn it on. An L.E.D display lit up the ceiling, projecting galaxies and solar systems hung against a colourful, starry background. It reflected in Peter’s hazel orbs and when he shifted the device in his hands and the image moved with him, his face broke out into a massive, awe-struck and enraptured grin.
“Mister Stark…” he had whispered quietly, finally looking down from the ceiling to stare at the mechanic. “This is – this is amazing, I – thank you, thank you so much.” Peter had hugged him for the first time that day, wrapping his arms around his neck and cuddling close to him gratefully, still clutching the projector in his hand while May and Ben watched them, overjoyed.
By the time Peter was around six or seven, he really began to present as a genius. He was in the academic decathlon team and top of most his classes, he was beginning to tinker at home with random bits and pieces he would harvest from school or his walk home and sometimes even what he could find when he took apart old electronics. That was around the time Peter started visiting Tony’s workshop and labs, tinkering and experimenting to his hearts content and building things with the mechanic by his side. May and Ben were glad Peter was growing closer to his real Dad, but they were starting to ask Tony when he would address that with the kid. Truth be told, he was scared of changing the relationship or unintentionally making Peter upset in any way. Moreover, there would be the issue of press and whether the kid wanted to keep living with May and Ben or not. Telling Peter then would have just changed too many things, and it was daunting for Tony to even imagine that conversation.
Things stayed the way they were for a while, then life got complicated and Afghanistan happened. It was hard, for Tony of course, but it also had an impact on Peter who had gotten so much closer to him since they had met. It was a long three months, there were tears, May and Ben had to console him and make assurances that Tony would be back, and eventually he was. Peter wasn’t old enough to fully understand the haunted look in his eyes afterward, he wasn’t experienced enough to get why Tony flinched sometimes or found physical contact more difficult than before. The boy couldn’t see the sleepless nights and the hoards of coffee that came along with working for days in the workshop without break. They still visited each other, Peter coming to the labs and watching the mechanic test new repulsors and even trying to learn about how the arc reactor worked. Tony came over to the apartment the same amount as before and everything got back on track, starting to go back to normal.
That all came tumbling to a halt when Ben died.
Peter was ten, Tony was at an overseas conference when it happened. Ben had gone out to pick up something for dinner, there was a robbery, it was solely wrong place, wrong time. May took it hard, Peter tried to deal but he wasn’t finding it easy in any way. The second lost father figure and now it was only Tony left, but Peter would never say that. The apartment felt emptier, but Tony helped, he brought food when May couldn’t cook, he helped Peter with maths homework where Ben usually would have, he helped them fight through when it felt like too much. Even when he had the battle of New York to deal with, they were there for each other. Peter helped Tony and Tony helped Peter, that’s how it was, even if they didn’t know how much they meant to each other, the company and knowledge that someone was always there meant the world.
May worked hard at her job, Tony finally managed to convince Peter to drop the ‘Mister Stark,’ for just Tony. Peter was growing up, almost every day he worked in the labs or lounged around the apartment with the mechanic, and Tony was unbelievably grateful that he was there to see it. May still thought he should tell Peter about how he really knew Mary, but she didn’t press him when he said it was too soon, because the kid was still so young.
When Peter was almost thirteen, May met Carter.
Peter was fine, he honestly was. Mad had held off telling him until about the third or fourth date, only because she wasn’t sure if it would be a serious thing or not, and the fact that she was anxious about what his reaction would be. Of course, being the amazing kid Peter was, he took it well, he was happy, purely because his Aunt was. He fed Tony the information he got from May and soon enough it was Peter’s thirteenth birthday. The boy suggested May invite Carter over that night so himself and Tony could meet him.
Peter got the morning and afternoon with just May and Tony, he was happy. He was content. He was carefree.
When there was a knock at the door May got up to open it, she smiled, received a peck on the lips before she ushered the man into the apartment. Tony sat next to Peter on the couch, his arm draped just behind them and watching the boy crack into one of his many gifts, a new Stark Phone. Peter looked up when the new person stepped into the room, taking in his appearance. The first thing he noticed were the eyes, a piercing sage green that contrasted to the darker blonde hair that was well groomed. He was clean shaven and dressed smart-casual, more on the formal side much like May as opposed to Tony who was dressed in a Black Sabbath shirt with old, torn and grease stained jeans he had worn earlier in the day at the workshop with Peter. The man was taller than Tony, but not by much, he wasn’t unattractive but didn’t stand out in any particular way, he was normal, average, flew under the radar. Peter was fine knowing the man could make May happy.
“Tony, Peter, this is Carter,” she turned to the man and gestured to the couch where the two were sitting. “Carter, meet Tony, a close friend, and Peter, my nephew.” Tony and Carter shook hands, Peter did too, surprised by the incredibly firm grip, it was bordering on painful, but he figured the man was nervous. It was hard to think that the cool exterior and relaxed body positioning of the man could be hiding any trace of anxiousness. Tony wondered to himself if Carter felt anything like he had the first time meeting Peter.
They had Thai for dinner, May and Carter went to pick it up together. They ate with simple conversation, Tony asked about Carter’s work, Peter answered quite a few questions about school. At some point, Carter asked if he played any sports and he almost felt shy to admit he only did the academic decathlon as an extracurricular. It was probably his imagination, but he thought Carter frowned a little when he said that. It wasn’t long until they seemed to run out of things to talk about, Carter didn’t seem very engaged when Tony or Peter spoke about any of their projects, but he couldn’t expect everyone to enjoy the same things as him. When they had finished eating, May offered to do the dishes because it was Peter’s birthday, but he was fine doing them, Tony helped and they both chose not to notice how Carter stayed seated.
“Well?” May looked to Peter nervously after Carter had left, Tony finished drying his hands and came to sit next to him on the couch.
“He seemed nice, as long as he makes you happy, then I am too Aunt May.” She smiled and kissed his head, promising him leftover cake as a treat the next day. She said goodnight to Tony and let him have some time to say goodbye to Peter.
“Night kiddo, hope you had a good time today,” Peter smiled warmly and nodded his head.
“I really did, thank you for everything.” Tony had a small smirk on his face and he rummaged dramatically in his pocket for a moment.
“Okay, one more, I swear,” he promised, pulling a box the size of his palm from his pocket and handing it to Peter with a mockingly guilty look on his face. “I know, you don’t like heaps of presents because you feel spoilt, but I want you to have this.” He unwrapped the small ribbon and opened the lid of the box carefully, puffing out a small breath and containing his excitement. Inside sat a watch, it was a coal black colour and the display lit up with a blue tint, similar to the reactor, the digital numbers flashed up at him. The strap was smaller than most watches, almost as if it were designed just for the slender and scrawny wrists that Peter had, not yet fully grown into his own body.
“Tony…” He breathed out softly, flipping it over in his hands and letting his mouth drop in amazement at the design on the back. The metal had been expertly etched into, and a small, but meaningful, puzzle piece silhouette was carved. “This is – it – it’s amazing…” He settled it onto his wrist after running a gentle finger over the outline of the puzzle piece and clipped the buckle, so it laid on his arm securely. Peter’s gaze lingered to admire the sleek but simplistic design of the watch, before he looked up. “Thank you, I honestly – I can’t even say it enough, thank you –” Tony rested an arm around his shoulders carefully, always giving the boy time to pull away on the rare occasion he initiated contact.
“Don’t mention it, seriously. Designing that thing was relaxing, tinkering around in the workshop is basically my job you know.” The mechanic smiled and felt Peter curl a soft finger around the hand he had hanging over his shoulder.
“I love it,” he said, almost like a promise.
“Sure kid, see you round the workshop next week,” he took a moment to ruffle Peter’s curls before dropping his arm and opening the door, turning back to catch and return the grateful smile the boy, his son, gave him.
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The next year blurred by, May and Carter’s relationship was progressing, the man was spending more time at the apartment. He had his own drawer in May’s bedroom by March, he came over almost every night for dinner, sometimes staying till the next morning. By June, May was sitting Peter down on the couch and asking him how he felt about Carter moving in, promising it was just to try out, if it was too much or uncomfortable at any point for either of them, things could go back very easily.
“I just want to make sure you actually like him too, you know? That this doesn’t seem too soon for you, or making you feel upset at all.” Peter smiled, shaking his head and bumping his Aunt’s shoulder.
“Not at all May, he makes you happy and I’m really glad you found someone. I’m sure him moving in means I’ll get to know him better…” He trailed off and bit the inside of his cheek in thought.
“But… What else? You look like there’s more you want to say.” She was watching him closely, trying to make sure that Peter was completely comfortable with the idea of someone else in the apartment with them.
“Just… will this mean Tony won’t come over as much? Will I still be able to go to the workshop after school sometimes?” May’s face softened, and she looked relieved when that was all Peter wanted to say.
“Of course not, you and Tony’s workshop time is untouchable, and I’m sure Carter won’t mind him coming over like normal. If it didn’t bother him before then it shouldn’t now.” She pulled her nephew in for a hug and kissed his head sweetly, tapping his watch and smiling knowingly. “You and Tony have a special relationship, and just because Carter’s moving in doesn’t mean he’s going to stop being your father-figure.” Peter blushed slightly and groaned when May used the phrase he had let slip one night a couple years ago, when she had asked him seriously how he felt about Tony.
“You didn’t tell him I said that, did you?” May shook her head reassuringly and brushed a curl from his forehead lovingly. She thought it was sweet and endearing how much the two cared about each other, regardless of how Tony had walls and Peter was too shy to cling on as much as she knew he wanted to.
“No, but I still think you should find the courage to tell him yourself, I’m certain Tony would love to hear that.” Peter grumbled a ‘maybe,’ knowing he probably wouldn’t any time soon.
Carter moved in and things did change. On weekends, when him and May were both home all day, they had more time to get to know each other better. Peter found it a challenge to keep up a conversation with the man, they were so different, and he sensed some disapproval whenever he tried to talk about anything science or mechanics related. Surprisingly, the mention of Tony or anything Tony had gifted him was a sore subject point as well, there wasn’t hostility in the beginning, just general disinterest that May didn’t pick up on. The few times May was out of the room or leaving them alone, and Peter mentioned any of those things, the dislike was much clearer. He remembers, at one point, May had been in the bathroom when Carter asked him what time it was. When he glanced at his watch and read out the numbers, the man narrowed his eyes.
“Where’d you get that from, looks pretty expensive for you to be wearing?” Peter figured the comment hadn’t meant to be insulting, and he jumped on the fact that Carter was actually starting a conversation himself, instead of sitting silently and focusing on talking to May.
“Actually… it – it was a gift, from Tony,” he answered tediously, making sure to take caution in talking about Tony with Carter. “He got it for my thirteenth birthday, I really like it becau –” Carter cut him off and curled his lip in distaste.
“Yeah, yeah Stark got it for you, what a surprise.” He waved his hand and rolled his eyes, slouching more on the couch and changing the channel rudely. Peter shut his mouth abruptly and looked at the ground, ignoring the sting that the words had carried with them. When May came back he excused himself and lied about having homework he needed to do, removing himself from the situation and briefly catching the self-satisfied look that hung on Carters face when he dropped an arm over May’s shoulders and fiddled with the channels, not bothering to wish Peter goodnight like his Aunt.
He learnt not to bring up Tony unless he wanted to deal with more comments like that, but it slowly spread into other areas of conversation and soon anytime Peter spoke he was getting that reaction from the man. He began to find more and more excuses to hole up in his room during the weekends, avoiding Carter and just letting him and May have their own time together. The main thing that worried Peter about the behaviour was the fact that it never occurred when May or Tony were around. The man always acted normally toward Peter when they were present, but the boy still noticed the small things, like his aversion to actively starting a conversation, how he frowned or sneered when Peter spoke and nobody was looking. It was bearable, he knew that not everyone enjoyed his company, and that was just life. Carter made May happy, so Peter was fine to deal with the occasional insulting comment or irritated looks and general dislike. Tony and him still got time with each other, and he found the slot of time after school in the workshop with him to be even more gratifying when he compared it to coming home to Carter’s insulting words.
Not too many months after Carter moved in, May got a promotion at work. Her schedule completely flipped, and she discussed the changes over dinner with the two. They sat at the table eating, Peter opted not to instigate any conversation and avoided Carter’s glares when he chimed in. May explained she now needed to work day shifts Monday through Friday, which would mean she was on the opposite schedule to Carter, because he worked nights. She mentioned how that would mean Carter and Peter would get a lot more time without her, especially over break. He couldn’t explain it, but the conversation made something heavy and worrying settle in Peter’s chest, almost like dread. He didn’t want more time with Carter, if he had to choose, he would rather less time, but he pushed everything down and smiled, reminding himself how happy May was. She was so content with Carter in her life that she had more time to put into work and got a promotion, he couldn’t complain, it wasn’t fair on her and the comments the man made weren’t that big of a deal to him. They just didn’t get along, that was all, it wasn’t as if he was being verbally abused or anything, they just didn’t have the same natured relationship that him and Tony did, and Peter couldn’t compare because that wasn’t right. Everything was fine, he knew it was just hard adjusting to new changes, everything was going to even out soon and the anxious feeling in his chest would dissipate, he was sure.
It was difficult at first, Peter spent more time in his room, he didn’t talk unless he absolutely had to, Carter was cold towards him for the period of time they were alone in the house together. Despite May leaving him money for lunch and talking to Carter about picking him up from school, neither of those things worked out. When he finished getting ready for school Carter had taken the money and said something about ‘needing coffee to put up with your shit,’ and he refused to pick Peter up. Of course, the man told May he was picking him up, but he told Peter to walk home himself and get the exercise, especially considering he didn’t do any sports. He told himself that everything was fine, he walked to school each morning and he would just get used to walking home too, granted, that was a bit more of a challenge on an empty stomach each day, but he was dealing. He was fine with putting up with it, because the smile on May’s face always made him feel better, even if they weren’t getting as much one on one time as before Carter, she was happy.
Peter dealt, but things began to accelerate and the weight in his chest was getting heavier. Carter had escalated his hatred for the boy, when they were in the same room he would tell him to leave, if they walked past each other in the hall or in the kitchen he would knock his shoulder, not in a friendly way either. When things really got bad was a Thursday morning, May was at work already, Peter was getting ready for school and Carter had a stressful time at work the night before, so his tolerance was barely existent. He had just put the bread in the toaster, he was slipping books into his bag and sneaking an apple in there too when he saw the money was, yet again, gone. A folder of his science notes fell from his grasp and clattered to the floor, from the living room Peter could hear Carter growl angrily and switch the television off. He swallowed against the rapidly forming lump in his throat and picked up the binder, clutching it to his chest as he heard footsteps approaching. He didn’t understand why he felt a burst of fear running through him, it wasn’t like Carter had hurt him that much before, just a frustrated and mildly purposeful bump of the shoulder here or there when nobody else was around. He stormed into the kitchen and glared at Peter with resentment in his eyes.
“Don’t you know how to keep it down? I was trying to watch something,” he said angrily, stepping closer and clenching his jaw. Peter was ready to stutter out an apology when Carter moved into his personal space, so close he could smell the coffee on his breath that had been bought with his lunch money. “You’re a mannerless brat, you know that?” Then, because apparently, he had no common sense or self-preservation, Peter’s eyes were darting to his bag where the apple was lying amongst his stationary. Carter’s eyes narrowed darkly, and he shoved his hand into the bag, almost snapping a ruler as he ripped the food back out. He hurled it across the room and it flew across the counter, hitting the floor and bruising darkly. “If you can’t be quiet, you don’t need that, and while you’re at it, text Stark and tell him you aren’t going out to the workshop tonight.”
There was that feeling again, the lump in his throat and the pressure on his chest growing rapidly with every one of Carter’s punishments.
“I – I’m sorry…” He could feel his face paling in fright, but his mouth still pushed out the words, “M – May said I could go to the w – workshop this afternoon.” Carter’s narrowed eyes blazed with an anger Peter hadn’t seen before, then everything was happening too fast for him to easily process. There were hands on his shoulders and they shoved with intent, forcing Peter backward so his side slammed into the edge of the table and he stumbled. He clutched a hand over his side, feeling the twinges of pain running through him as his eyes widened in horror.
Carter’s expression morphed into one of satisfaction before he was turning on his heel and storming back to the lounge, leaving Peter standing in the kitchen with his eyes burning. He threw his bag over his shoulder and left early, ditching the toast which had long since popped from the toaster and leaving the bruised apple, forgotten on the floor.
The pain faded and wasn’t as sharp, it was just an aggressive ‘bump,’ but he could feel the mark that must have formed when he touched his side gingerly. By the time he was at school and walking to class with Ned, he had run the incident over in his head hundreds of times.
“Where’s your lunch?” Ned asked, frowning slightly when Peter admitted he left it at home. “Dude, you gotta stop forgetting food when we have gym class, you’ll get head spins.” He rolled his eyes at his friend and tried not to think about what had happened that morning. “Split my sandwich?” Peter smiled and accepted, thanking Ned and telling himself he was lucky to have a friend like him.
Despite the food he got, he was unfocused in English and his teacher warned him to stay attentive, he shook away the distractions and tried to concentrate on the assignments he was given in class. Just before gym, he was changing and caught a glimpse of his hip, the area was reddish and purple in some places, the first layer or two of skin had torn, but there wasn’t any blood. He blew out a breath and tugged his top on, pulling the fabric further down as if to make sure it wouldn’t ride up. He took a moment to text Tony he couldn’t come over to the workshop that afternoon, biting his lip and reasoning that there was no good reason for him to be that upset about it.
While he walked home, his stomach growled relentlessly and he thought about how much he would rather be in Tony’s car on the way to the workshop right now. When he got home, Carter was waiting for him, the bruised apple and cold toast sitting on the table next to where he stood with folded arms.
“Were you ever taught to clean up after yourself?” He looked at the floor and didn’t answer, avoiding eye contact and choosing to picture the half-finished project that him and Tony had planned to work on that afternoon. “Sort it out now, and if you even breathe a word to May when she get’s home, you can skip out on breakfast tomorrow as well.” He left to let Peter clean up, ignoring him when he crossed the living room to hide away in his room. When May got home, and Carter left, he went to bed early, barely sleeping all night as he was kept up by the weight inside him. Maybe the cold looks had gone too far, maybe things were progressing to a point where he should say something… but he couldn’t, not to May who would never forgive herself, who would be reluctant to dating again, who would have to watch the better food brands slowly disappear from the kitchen as they were left to only one pay check. He rolled over in bed and flipped the pillow to the other side, staring at the bedroom wall and trying to force himself to sleep.
Eventually, he gave up on staring and swung his legs out of bed, wincing when the bruise at his side stretched slightly as he stood. After fumbling in the dark for a moment, he pulled out the compact projector Tony had given him. It lit up the ceiling and he climbed back into bed, looking up at the galaxies, letting the flickering of the stars relax him more and more until his eyes were finally fluttering shut.
Things only really got worse from then on, Carter became more hostile, more aggressive, taking away the time Peter got with Tony as punishment and forcing him to skip out on meals more often than not. The things he was getting in trouble for were getting smaller and smaller until coming out of his bedroom resulted in a remote thrown across the room at him. When break started, things progressed even more, Peter couldn’t spend his time at school to avoid the man, and had to get through each day at home alone with Carter, constantly holding out for the weekend when May was home and he got some semblance of feeling safe.
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On his fourteenth birthday, he got a whole day at the workshop with Tony, it was perfect, he was overjoyed and came home in a good mood, inviting Tony in for cake with May and Carter. He tried to tone down his happiness when he stepped into the apartment, lessening the attention he would draw and keeping quieter. They had the cake, then Tony went home, May said night and Peter had his shower and got ready for bed, feeling overall content with his day.
His birthday wasn’t over yet and his aunt was asleep by now. She was impervious to what Carter could do to Peter as she slept.
He was sat at his desk playing around with some designs for a project him and Tony had started that day when there was a knock at his door.
“Yeah?” He turned in his chair and stood up abruptly when Carter walked into the room with a dangerous expression. “H – hi…” He started, shuffling back when the man advanced on him.
“You didn’t ask if you could invite Stark inside,” he said, keeping his voice low to not wake May, but not bothering to hide the anger in his tone. “You’re selfish and spoilt, he only makes it worse,” Carter jabbed a finger to his chest and bared his teeth in a snarl.
“I – I’m sorry, I – I just –”
“No, you don’t get to make excuses right now, you can shut it,” even if he wasn’t yelling, the fury was still evident, Peter couldn’t help how he shrunk away from the man and moved back so he was pressed against his desk. If anything, the submissive stance only encouraged Carter more, because he mimicked and stepped forward to grip Peter’s wrist tightly, his nails digging in roughly and pulling a terrified intake of breath from the boy. “You spend too much time with him, you’re too pampered, and you need to learn how to stop being such a spoilt brat,” his grip moved higher until it was squeezed around the watch that Peter had worn every day since Tony gave it to him.
“N – no wait don’t –” He was too late, the screen cracked under the pressure and the buckle ripped when Carter yanked it harshly. He let it fall to the ground but kept his hand over Peter’s slender arm, clenching his fist until the boy felt his bone creaking in distress. “Ah, ow, ow, p – please stop!” He raised his voice slightly out of pure panic, the cold realisation that Carter could actually break his wrist in that moment crept through him icily.
“Shut up,” he slammed his opposite hand over Peter’s mouth and it forced him back so roughly that he tumbled over the desk until the back of his head hit the wall behind it. He was splayed over the wood, his head shoved back against the wall while the unrelenting force on his arm tugged it forward as nails pierced his skin. “If you wake up May I will make this so much worse for the both of you,” tears were prickling in Peter’s eyes now and they began to spill down his cheeks as his breathing picked up. He whimpered, and Carter pulled away, letting him fall off the desk and land on the floor clutching at his arm which had a hand shaped bruise beginning to form around the crescent indents that were beaded with small smears of blood. “Anytime you want to spend time with Stark, you can expect more of that,” Carter spat, leaving Peter on the floor of his room, tears streaming down his face.
He sat unmoving for a long time, only reaching out a shaky hand to hold the ruined watch to his cheek and curl up against the foot of his bed to sob quietly. How had things gotten this much worse? What did the man have against him and Tony? He thought back to exactly a year ago, his thirteenth birthday when he had first met Carter. He remembered how glad he was that May found somebody, now he was just filled with fear, maybe Carter was right, maybe he was being selfish. Peter looked down at the angry fingernail marks on his arm and worried at his lower lip. What if he was just spoilt and had gotten used to it? Maybe he should just accept that walking home and staying in his room all the time was just the new normal.
He couldn’t say anything. He didn’t have the heart to take away what was making May happy, but he knew it would be hard having to spend less time with Tony. If he told anybody and Carter found out, there was potential he could lash out not just at him, but at the people he cared about, May and Tony. He would never forgive himself if they were hurt because of his inability to deal with everything. Trapped, he felt trapped under the intensity of the weight inside him and the size of the lump in his throat, but he would put up with it, so May could stay happy. He didn’t want her to go back to grieving the absence of Ben or worrying about working overtime to support herself and Peter. With Carter working, May was less stressed over money and it took weight off her, Peter would hold the weight for her, so she could be happy, but he knew not having time with Tony would be extra weight on him.
Peter spent the night of his fourteenth birthday silently crying on the floor of his room, hugging the destroyed watch to his heart but telling himself it would be bearable. It was all doable if he could see the smile on May’s face and know that he was the one keeping it there. It would feel okay when he could hear her opening the fridge in the mornings and actually seeing the benefit of two incomes instead of just one.
A small part of him wishes that Carter wasn’t so hateful, that he was actually a good guy and could make May happy while also letting Peter near the fridge when he was hungry. The rest of him just wanted the man to never have entered his life, but that must have been the selfish part of him, because without Carter, May wouldn’t smile as often as she had been, the fridge and pantry wouldn’t be as stocked as they are now, and the so obvious lack of a third person living in the apartment wouldn’t stand out like a sore thumb.