Locks and Empty Coffee Cups
It had been almost an entire month since Tony had seen Peter, the boy hadn’t been able to come to the workshop and any time he went over to the apartment and Carter answered the door he explained that Peter was out for the night. He tried not to worry, he tried not to miss the kid, he was a teenager after all, it was normal for him to be out so much, but it seemed so all of a sudden, and he knew Peter wasn’t the biggest socialiser, except when it came to Ned of course. Eventually, he tried on the weekend, and luckily May answered, looking a bit more tired than usual but still happy to see him.
“Hey Tony, it’s been awhile,” she said with a smile, letting him inside. He could see Carter sat on the couch and the man took a beat before his face pulled into a welcoming expression, he must have been tired too because for a moment Tony thought the lowered eyebrows had been meant for him.
“Hey May, nice to see you again,” he returned the smile. May gave him a quick hug and from the angle neither her or Tony could see when Carter’s face dropped to a scowl and his teeth ground together as he thought of Peter. “Where’s the kid? Its almost been a month since I’ve seen him.” May’s smile lessened slightly, and she looked almost empathetic when she dropped the hand that had been resting on Tony’s shoulder and nodded her head to the hallway.
“He’s just down in his room, but he’s been feeling a little under the weather recently.” Her eyes crinkled in concern and Tony was already mirroring the emotion when she suggested, “you should go in and say hi.” She lowered her voice a touch and murmured to him, “I think he’s missed you.” A small smile tugged at his lips again as he walked past the couch, waving a brief hello to Carter before heading down the hall and opening the door to Peter’s room.
His entrance must have surprised Peter because when he walked into the room, the boy was standing beside his desk with a frightened look on his face, backing up when the door opened, before fully registering who it was. His body positioning immediately loosened, his shoulders unhunched and an immensely relieved smile broke out over his face that helped to melt away the fear that had registered on his face into something warmer.
“Tony,” Peter whispered, the smile across his face made the mechanic’s stomach flip in fondness. He sat on the bed and the boy was quick to follow. They were both silent for a moment, Tony watched Peter as he tugged the sleeves of his hoodie further down, so they swallowed his hands. Almost everything he wore made him look smaller. “H – hey, hi,” he said quietly, looking up from his lap so Tony could meet his hazel eyes.
“Hey kiddo, long time no see, what’s it been, a month?” He spoke softly, matching Peter’s volume and assuming he had a reason to be talking so faintly, he expected the boy had a headache or sore throat, and that’s what May had meant when she said he was unwell. Something in Peter’s eyes looked sad when Tony mentioned how long it had been, but he fixed a smaller smile on his face and nodded regardless.
The genius watched Peter closely, taking him in. He somehow looked even smaller than usual, almost like he had lost weight, there were dark bags under his eyes and his hair wasn’t done, so the curls hadn’t been combed or gelled down as normal. Tony had always thought to himself that the wilder they were, the cuter they looked, but Peter was tired, drained of his usual enthusiasm, exhausted, and so unlike himself. He felt concern in his heart but chalked everything up to how May said he was feeling sick. “How’s it been, May said you haven’t been feeling too well?” There was probably a bug going around, he would have made a joke about mono, but the bags were too defined to be a joke.
The sad look flashed back in Peter’s eyes, Tony didn’t understand that it was really guilt, clawing around inside the boy. He didn’t want to lie to May about not feeling well, it wasn’t strictly an untrue thing to say, but it wasn’t the whole truth either. Because the truth was so much worse, he couldn’t look into the eyes of the people he loved and admit that he felt as if he were fraying at the edges from all the bruises he had to hide. That he wasn’t sleeping because he knew that the next day would only let things progress even more, that he was so absolutely consumed by the constant fear and unease that he could feel it taking a physical toll on his body.
He couldn’t tell the truth, he couldn’t put that weight back on May, he couldn’t risk Carter snapping at anyone other than him, so he bit his tongue and lied through a smile, hoping neither of them would notice. He didn’t like the guilt that came with lying to May, and it was only amounting now that the lies was spreading to Tony, because he never lied to Tony. Before Carter, when May had an exhausting day at work and Peter wanted to talk through his problems, he would hold them away from her and relax with Tony. He was his rock, he was always there for Peter, and they had both lost count of the amount of times they had sat in the workshop with greasy hands, laughter bouncing from their lips like the brightest of stars.
But to Peter, those stars were out now. They had died when Carter had first shoved him into the table and stolen away the time he once got with Tony. He was a black hole floating through the apartment he once felt safe in, but now, every slammed door blown by the wind, every sudden movement of a shadow in the corner of his vision, every sound he didn’t immediately recognise to be May, sent him into a full-bodied flinch. But then again, sometimes he just let his mind wander to the time he used to have in the workshop as a makeshift coping mechanism, who could blame him for escaping the aggressive blows with memories of him and Tony.
Remembering those times in contrast to thinking about how heartbroken he felt now was what made the lump in his throat swell until Peter’s mind was screaming, making him too afraid to speak in fear of his dam breaking. But, just like he had been doing since the night of his fourteenth birthday when he cried on the floor and held the broken remains of Tony’s gift against his face, he bit the inside of his cheek and forced the words out in a hopefully convincing tone.
“Y – yeah, I’m fine.” It apparently wasn’t enough for Tony, who knew him too well, because he looked concerned and reached out to feel Peter’s forehead to test the temperature. Then, because it had been so long, and he had no restraint, Peter let out an involuntary breath, closed his eyes and leaned into the touch like he’d been starved of them, which he had. To his credit, Tony kept his hand pressed against Peter’s forehead for much longer than the time it would have taken to get his temperature.
“Hey, kid seriously, you feeling okay?” For just one more perfect second, Peter basked in the warmth of the careful touch and relished in the pure, unadulterated concern which was present in Tony’s voice. Then he forced himself to snap his eyes open and lean back quickly, stammering through an incredibly fake smile to appease the voice in his head that worried about Tony growing too suspicious.
“I’m g – good, just a bit o – overtired and stressed… about school I think.” He looked up, shot Tony a reassuring smile and tried not to cry when he saw how genuinely caring the expression on his face was. Neither of them said anything for a while, just stayed seated on the edge of Peter’s bed. It was strange, he thought, how much safer he felt with the man beside him, he was so much more relaxed then he had been in the past month, he was almost able to forget that Carter was sat in the living room, probably stewing. Eventually though, Tony stood up to go.
“Okay squirt, I think I need to leave you to get some rest, alright? Doesn’t look like you’ve been getting much sleep recently.” Tony had neared the door when the icy feeling of fright engulfed Peter again and it was probably plastered all across his face.
“W – wait, Tony.” His mouth moved on its own accord, he spoke louder than he meant to and he reached his hand out briefly before he dropped it and looked to his lap, curling into himself again. He didn’t want to admit it, but he was terrified of the one string that kept him taught leaving, so he was left with only May for protection. If Tony left, the only thing stopping Carter’s wrath was May hearing them, and she had been going to bed earlier so getting up early for work wasn’t as hard. There had been so many nights, too many, where May would say goodnight and not even an hour later Peter was locked in the bathroom wiping away the tears, icing his bruises and praying they faded away before anybody noticed them.
“Yeah, what’s up kiddo?” Tony halted where he was about to reach the door, and in Peter’s heart he knew that if he wanted this to stop, now was the time to ask for help. The voice at the back of his head was screaming once more, bashing against his skull, begging him to force out just one word, ‘help.’ But he couldn’t, not when May was smiling more than she was sighing, not when the apartment was less empty than it had ever been after Ben’s death. He stammered and back tracked, not even knowing what he wanted to say exactly, but that wasn’t true, and he knew it. The truth danced on the tip of his tongue, but he could never say anything.
“I – I uh, j – just… sorry, just h – have a safe drive home I guess.” Then, he swallowed against the lump in his throat and managed a very weak smile, but Tony was even more worried now. He moved away from the door, leant back over Peter and cupped his cheek gently, concern etched deep into his face.
“For real Pete, you know you can tell me anything that’s on your mind,” he paused before saying the next words in a lower voice, so they sounded more meaningful. “I’m always here to listen.” Peter’s eyes fluttered shut again, he took a deep breath as the weight in his chest drifted and, for once, he couldn’t feel it anymore. He leant into the touch and he knew it was so blatantly obvious, but he couldn’t find the strength to pull away and lie. Instead, he reached up his own hand and held Tony’s wrist lightly, as if to keep the soft touch there, to hold the physical feeling of safety and not let it leave. He had to fight down the urge to jump up and embrace Tony, because he knew that even through his very over-sized hoodie, the force of the hug would have made him wince. He wasn’t good enough to hide a wince.
Tony couldn’t know now, not after he’d already been lied to, not after Peter promised he was fine. He was locked in now, telling the truth after he had already lied was the perfect guarantee that he would lose the one person he needed most. And so, he swallowed nervously, bit his cheek and pulled himself together while trying to hide how much his lip quivered when Tony pulled his hand away and looked him in the eyes. He used all his strength to make sure he smiled brightly and contained his stutter.
“I’m okay, I’m really fine Tony, it was nice to see you again.” The mechanic still frowned, a little concerned but less so when Peter’s smile looked more honest. The boy ignored the burning behind his eyes while Tony said okay and promised to come by some time soon, before shutting the door quietly behind him. As soon as he heard the front door close, he collapsed onto his bed and buried his face into the pillows, heaving on the sobs made up of longing, terror and the knowledge that he just looked the last person protecting him in the eyes and lied, straight to his face.
‘I’m not okay and I’m not fine. I don’t know what to do, I don’t know what to say and I’m too afraid to tell anyone. I need your help, but I don’t know how, and I don’t think I want you to notice what’s happening to me. I don’t want you to hate me for being so pathetic. You mean too much to me and I can’t risk losing you.’
‘I can’t risk losing the closest thing I have to a Dad.’
‘I can’t lose you… not when you mean this much.’
The thoughts in his head echoed and the weight was back, heavier than ever before. Peter had two more hours to cry alone in his room before May was getting into her bed and Carter was pushing his door open with the familiar darkness flashing in his green eyes. Honestly, when Peter first saw the man, the sage green eyes had been a commending aspect of his appearance, now they just highlighted the corrupted hate that blazed whenever he saw the teen.
----
That night, Peter was left with an almost broken knee and foot shaped bruises that littered his torso like a galaxy. Not even the compact projector Tony gave him all those years ago could help him sleep, the stars reminded him too much of what his own blood looked like, splattered across the basin in the bathroom.
He learned to not cry out in pain unless he wanted to be struck across the mouth until he bit his own lip and drooled crimson.
----
One of the first times Carter had hit him hard enough to draw blood, after Peter had crawled under his covers with an ice pack and laid silently with drying tears on his face, he called Tony. He didn’t say anything about what had happened, didn’t bring Carter into the conversation at all. In fact, all he spoke were simple greetings, an excuse for why his voice sounded slightly shaky, then Tony took over, almost like he knew that it was exactly what Peter needed, a distraction. He talked about his day, his meetings, the coffee he made, the rough design sketches he had drawn up, the single sock that had seemed to up and vanish, anything and everything to fill the silence that Peter offered.
Somehow, the welcomed distraction worked, the sting of his wounds and the ache of his bruises weren’t as sharp, the tears had stopped coming, and his lips even managed to pull into a small smile when Tony made half-hearted jokes and quips. When he felt himself getting tired, and Tony picked up on it from his mumbled replies, they said goodnight, and for once, Peter didn’t feel the weight and the crushing force of feeling so horribly alone in all of this, as he drifted to sleep.
It became a regular thing after that, when there was a particularly agonising injury, Peter was beginning to feel buried under the weight of everything, or it was just a bad night, he would call Tony. Sometimes he sat by the window, staring out into space, sometimes under the covers, whispering hushed replies and praying Carter would never find out once he was home from work. Tony didn’t mind, he caught on pretty quickly and Peter let him run with the idea that it was simply nightmares the teen was dealing with.
As if bad dreams could even comprehend to the waking nightmare Peter felt like he was enduring day after day, hit after hit. Each hissed threat, each sharp movement that resulted in fingernails that dug into his skin, a slap across the cheek, a kick to the shin, objects hatefully flung at him, everything added up, and if Peter didn’t have Tony to lean on, to just hear, to only know that someone still loved him, without that... Peter didn’t know how broken he would be by now.
----
The rest of that week consisted of him paying for the time he spent with Tony, but Peter found it hard to regret. He could still remember the feeling of that weight floating off his chest while a steady hand rested on his forehead and cupped his cheek, tethering him to what he had always known as home. Just those two fleeting touches had given Peter hope, and he held out for the next time he would get to see Tony. The only times he slept that week were when he could drift away in his own head and relive the times he used to spend at the workshop in his dreams.
----
Thankfully, Tony kept his promise and came over that weekend. Peter still had his hope shut away alongside the weight in his chest, he didn’t know how he would have dealt without seeing Tony that week, the week that was filled with punishment from last time he saw the mechanic. Peter used the only spare time he had to put up other barriers between him and Carter, because he hated how scared he had felt when he realised that once Tony left, he had nothing. He borrowed a lock from one of the shop classes at school, screwing it over his door in the early hours of the morning when he knew Carter was at work and May still slept. It was merely for peace of mind, he only slid it into place when the possibility of anyone trying to get into his room was low. He made sure to spend all possible time in his room studying, so that he couldn’t be called lazy or unmotivated. Unfortunately, it didn’t pay off like he was expecting, because when he won the science fair, May’s praise only proved to aggravate Carter more.
Peter thought that Carter might have had an issue with toxic masculinity. The largest problem he seemed to have with the teen, aside from Tony, was how focused he was on science, academic decathlon, mechanics, engineering and anything that involved his head. The man constantly brought up how scrawny the teen was, how little sport he did, his lack of muscles and brawn. Carter favoured physical strength and prowess in contrast to intellect, which seemed to be why Peter was such an issue for him. Funnily enough, the problem Carter had with the boy was exactly what made Tony appreciate him. Regardless, while winning the science fair pleased May and Tony, it was what happened to set Carter off on the teen.
----
Tony stood in the living room by the couch, May and Carter eyed the laptop he had under his arm. May had a knowing smile on her face because she understood that the mechanic loved seeing Peter excel in the same areas he had as a child. Carter had a pinched expression on his face, but it quickly melted away to something else as he asked what the laptop was for. When Tony explained it was a gift, Carter laughed mildly, almost coldly.
“Course is it, little nerd deserves it.” The comment was a joke, and he knew that, but he wrinkled his nose and didn’t laugh along. It cut into him because he had so often heard that name as a kid, and he didn’t want anyone to stain Peter’s confidence, even if it was a harmless joke. “He’s still in his room, hasn’t come out yet today, probably still sleeping.” Carter jerked his head backward in a half-hearted nod towards Peter’s room, and Tony gladly took the out from the conversation and made his way down the hall. The door was closed all the way, so he opted to knock softly.
The noise startled Peter and he sat up immediately in bed, wrapping his arms around his chest as if to provide comfort and shelter from the raging terror in his head that whispered, ‘it’s Carter, coming into the room, even with May home.’ He forced a reply because he had learnt that ignoring the man only meant more pain.
“Y – ye – yeah?” Tony frowned at the response, Peter’s voice sounded petrified. His mind flashed back to last weekend when he opened the door and the boy stumbled back with fear written all across his face.
“Hey kiddo, it’s Tony, mind if I come in?” He asked kindly, shaking the image from his mind. He heard a muffled thud that sounded like Peter jumping out of bed and racing for the door. He hoped it was because the boy felt better than last he did last week. The sound was followed by a click and he distantly wondered when the boy put a lock on his door, but then he was being met with the sight of Peter, standing in the doorway. His room was dim with the curtains closed, the bed was unmade, and he stood, still fully dressed in his pyjamas.
“Tony!” Peter cried happily, an exited and somehow relieved grin was plastered across his flushed cheeks. He returned the boy’s smile when he realised the kid was in a better mood than last time.
“I heard you won the science fair, and I felt bad you weren’t getting much sleep last time I was here, so I got you this, to replace that dingy thing that always shuts off on it own.” He held out the laptop and nodded towards the desk where Peter’s old one sat. He walked over and put the gift down next to the other device, turning and eyeing Peter’s very rumpled appearance.
“S – sorry, I didn’t know you were coming today,” he mumbled as he hurriedly pulled a hoodie on and reassured himself that the nail marks and finger shaped bruises which ran along his arms were well hidden before they could have been noticed. Tony didn’t pay attention to his apology, he was more focused on the fact that he was seeing Peter in shorts for the first time in a long time. One of his knees was mottled a deep purple and blue, there was a matching bruise with a greenish tint over his opposite shin that ran along the length of the bone.
“Buddy… what happened to your legs? They look really banged up…” Peter looked down as if he had only just noticed them, pulling sweatpants over his shorts in a hurry, mumbling over and over that he was fine and that it didn’t even hurt. “No kid, what happened. They were some nasty bruises?”
The weight hadn’t lifted yet and Peter was starting to panic, his head was filled with images of Tony finding out and never forgiving him for lying or looking at him like a pathetic child who let himself get beaten. He could see May, working herself to exhaustion because she felt like she had to, or crying as she blamed herself for Peter’s pain and vowed to never see anyone again. He couldn’t do that, Tony couldn’t know, there was no way he could ever find out about everything that was happening.
“I – it’s nothing, I j – just tripped in gym class and fell on my knee and th – then later on I kinda scraped up my shin on a bench while I was leaning on it to put my shoe on.” The lie slipped off his tongue and he was surprised by how easily the excuse came to him. “It’s okay they really aren’t that bad, I can’t even feel them. I just bruise easily.” His mind was slipping, and he wasn’t seeing Tony anymore, he saw the door flying open last Thursday night, as Carter barged into his room with the promise of more punishment falling from his lips.
He was trying to block the blows from his face because he knew how hard they would be to hide. He tucked his knees to his chest and shielded his torso from the rest of them, but now his legs were taking the brunt of the beating. He felt a boot slam down on his knee and he gasped when the bone groaned in protest. An open palm flew downward and slapped across his forearms which blocked his face. For the briefest moment they were tugged lower than his head and he struggled to lift them higher, so his face didn’t take any damage. Carter used the moment to reach down and shove his fist in Peter’s hair, yanking him harshly so his neck cricked as he was pulled to his knees. “Ah!” The now familiar sensation, of the large hand wrapping over his mouth to stifle any cries, consumed him. By then, Carter had used the traction he got from Peter’s curls to force him to his feet and drag him sideways, so he rested by the foot of his desk. His whimpers were muffled by the hand and it was sickening, but he almost felt glad that his cries were subdued now, because if they hadn’t been, May would have heard as his shin was thrown against the leg of his desk. He felt the skin scrape the wood and all the dips in the bone were made painfully obvious as Carter shoved against the leg again and tugged it downward to leave a long stripe along his shinbone.
After the fourth time his leg was forced down the length of his desk, he had been reduced to a silently sobbing mess, on the floor of his room. He wailed once more as a final blow was kicked against his bad knee before the hand finally pulled away from his face and Carter was leaving the room. Along with the retreating figure came the image of reality slowly swimming back into focus and there Tony stood, looking into his eyes with the same concerned and questioning look on his face.
‘I just bruise easily,’ he couldn’t believe he ever said something so stupidly cliché to the person who cared the most. Peter immediately changed the subject to gush over the new laptop. “Thank you so much, you really shouldn’t have, y – you didn’t have to, it was just the science fair… nothing major.” Tony waved an arm in dismissal.
“Peter, c’mon don’t discredit yourself, winning the science fair is a big deal, ‘specially when it was out of everyone at your school.” He gently chided the boy but still tilted the desk lamp upward, so he could look him over under the direct light. He immediately noticed the dark bags which were still there from last time, and his sleep-mussed hair, the dishevelled and unkempt look that suggested he hadn’t even gotten out of bed yet, which was unusual for him given that it was pretty much lunchtime, but he guessed it was just the teenage thing to do. “How have you been this week, getting more sleep?” He continued to eye Peter’s form and it was a bit more obvious now, how much weight he’d lost. “You look a lot skinnier that the last time I saw you?”
“I, uh… y – yeah maybe a little, I’ve just been walking to and from school now with May’s new hours a – and the coach is making us run more laps than normal. I – I forgot my lunch money a few times… b – but it’s all good, I mean, nothing drastic or anything like that.” He gave Tony another fake smile and pushed down the worry clawing inside him and begging to tell the truth about how Carter wouldn’t pick him up from school because he ‘needed the exercise,’ and took the lunch money May left him because the man would rather have his coffee then let Peter eat. Tony looked like he was about to press further, but before the conversation progressed, May called for lunch and Peter was quick to speak. “I – I need to get up properly a – and shower, n’ stuff…” He hated that the visit was so short and so filled with Tony worrying about him, but they said goodbye and the mechanic didn’t miss the sad, longing look Peter had on his face when he left and closed the door behind him again.
----
Tony thought about Peter more over the week. He had started to notice how Peter had become a lot quieter, more withdrawn, very introverted and unlike his usual self. Their regular workshop times afterschool had trickled to a stop, meaning the only time he managed to see the boy were when May answered the door, which were only over the weekends. He wondered why Peter had begun to leave the house so much more over the week.
The next time he dropped over, it was a Sunday, both May and Carter were home, so they let him head to Peter’s room. The door, once again, was shut, but not locked like last time.
“Hey Pete, just me, mind if I come in?” Unlike last time, he didn’t hear footsteps, or any movement. All he got was Peter’s answer, in a quieter than normal voice.
“Y – yeah. It’s not l – locked.” His voice held sombre undertones again, and when Tony opened the door, he could see the lock. It looked almost as if it had been ripped from the wall, there was minor chipping in the plaster and the floor beneath the mess was coated in a layer of dust which must have fallen from the cracked paint.
“What happened there kiddo?” Peter didn’t turn around from his desk, the back of his chair was blocking his face, but he answered Tony nonetheless.
“M’ not allowed a lock I guess,” he couldn’t see what the boy was working on, so he moved around to lean against the desk beside Peter but stopped abruptly when he saw the dark smudge across the side of the kid’s cheek.
“Hey, what’s on your face?” He reached out to tilt Peter’s chin to take a better look, but because of the way he was sat facing forward, the teen couldn’t see the gentle fingers, causing him to flinch without warning when he finally noticed them, too close to his face. Tony immediately pulled his hand back. “Sorry kid, just trying to get a better look, I won’t touch it but I wanna know what happened?” Peter turned to face him fully; the bruise followed the curve of his cheekbone and tapered outward like the edges of a watercolour.
“I – It’s nothing, just stupid school you know…” He frowned and didn’t accept the explanation in the slightest.
“Peter…” He fixed the boy with a heavy gaze, worry jolted through his mind as he imagined someone laying a hand on his kid.
“Honestly its fine, someone left their locker open and I was rushing to get to class with Ned and I just wasn’t looking and – and yeah… kinda ran into it.” Tony raised his hand very slowly and deliberately, letting the teen track his movements as he leaned to tilt Peter’s face more into the light.
“Pete, it doesn’t look like just a locker did this…” Peter looked away guiltily and bit his lip, gearing himself up to flash another fake smile when Tony gave him the perfect out and asked, “is that little shit on your decathlon team pushing you around again?” He wanted so badly to immediately jump on the excuse, but he forced himself to play it cool and not seem eager.
“M – maybe a little bit, okay? Just… d – don’t say anything, I can handle it myself, it’s a tiny bruise and it just looks worse because it’s fresh –”
“Peter it can’t be fresh, it’s a Sunday…” He looked concerned, but Peter feared deeper down he was disappointed. Could he even blame Tony if he was disappointed? Either way he played this, Flash or Carter, he was still the scrawny wimp being pushed around.
“Okay…” he mumbled dejectedly. “It wasn’t even a big deal, it’s not like he’s bullying me or anything major, just brushed past me too hard and I kinda got shoved into the locker. I – I didn’t run into it, but I sort of did because I stumbled when he shoved me so it’s a bit of both…” He felt sick lying to Tony and it made him want to curl into a ball and cry because of how his face softened when he rested a hand on Peter’s shoulder and squeezed gently.
“You don’t need to keep that from me, okay I get it. I won’t press it any more but I gotta tell May if it gets any worse. I’m just trying to look out for you kiddo… cus you don’t deserve this.” The hand on his shoulder held tighter, and Peter focused on that instead of letting his head reel with the image of Carter backhanding him after he was caught on the fire escape, texting Ned about a new Lego set he got.
The mechanic looked at him sincerely for a moment before standing and clapping his hands together, dispelling the tender moment in favour of getting the kid happy again. “Come on then, I’m taking you out for some food,” Peter stiffened slightly and looked to the door where May and Carter were sat, watching T.V down the hall. Tony noticed and dropped his smile slightly. “Just us two, don’t worry, I already checked with them, it’s fine as long as I have you back by curfew.” He lightened again and stood up, only slowing to grab a jacket as he followed Tony out to the lounge. When they stopped by the couch, Peter stood behind Tony silently, fiddling with his jacket, not even looking up at the two on the seat. Carter eyed him suspiciously with a dangerous look in his eyes which went unnoticed to everyone but Peter, as May spoke.
“You told him about the bruise?” She asked lightly, the same look of worry that was on Tony’s face mirrored the one on hers. He nodded shakily and didn’t make eye contact when he lifted his head up to where the three adults had their eyes on him.
“Y – yeah, just told him how I wasn’t looking and ran into the locker… J – just being clumsy again.” He diverted his gaze once more and Tony noticed May shaking her head sadly, he didn’t see Carter though, who was relaxing beside her on the couch and smirking at Peter proudly.
“Okay, we’re heading to grab some food, don’t worry I know it’s a school night, we won’t be out long,” Tony promised, leading Peter to the door with a comforting hand on his back. He kept the hand there until they were in the elevator going down, and when the doors slid shut, he turned to face the teen. “You sure you’re alright? You know I can talk to the school, sort things out for you, even if you don’t want May knowing.”
“I know, th – thank you, I’m okay, I can handle it and I don’t… I don’t want to m – make it worse.” Peter let out a breathy laugh and met Tony’s eyes. “Plus, I – I don’t think the school would know what to do if Tony Stark walked into main reception.” The mechanic laughed as they stepped out of the elevator and walked to the car, he slid his sunglasses on when he stepped outside and said evenly, with a hint of humour in his tone.
“Oh kid, Tony Stark wouldn’t walk in there,” he paused dramatically by his door, “Iron Man would.” Peter grinned and got into the car with him, a small part of him could almost picture the red and gold suit tearing through the apartment and ripping Carter off him in the middle of a beating. He shoved the thought down and focused on Tony as he fiddled with the radio, he let the ease and completeness of being out of the apartment, safe with Tony, relax his body as they drove.
They had an amazing time, Tony could see as Peter relaxed more and more, the further they got from the apartment, he laughed and made jokes, spoke about school and decathlon more. The boy didn’t eat as much as he usually would, but Tony assumed he ate a large breakfast. Peter was smiling, and his cheeks flushed when he got excited and stumbled over his words, they discussed more possible projects in the workshop and Tony continually ordered small things, just so they could stay seated and talk until the sun began to set. When they finished, he had about eight small plates of muffin wrappers, half-eaten biscuits and empty coffee cups.
He was thrilled to see Peter’s smile again and hear his bubbly laughter. He might have not admitted it or said anything, but he had been starting to grow slightly worried when the teen had been so closed in on himself the past few visits. But now, seeing the warmth and gleam in his eyes as he excitedly recounted the science project him and Ned had built together while his fork waved around animatedly, it was almost easy to forget how troubling the silence had been.
After they both noted the time and reluctantly walked back to the car, the drive back felt somewhat less easy as Peter began to fade back into his quieter state. Tony pulled up outside the apartment and began to say goodnight, but he trailed off when Peter leaned over and wrapped his arms around him, ignoring the way the handbrake pressed into his bruised side.
The contact surprised the mechanic for a moment as his words faded out, the two didn’t often fully hug, it was normally just the occasional hand on shoulder or ruffling of hair. Tony had become less inclined to giving and receiving physical affection since Afghanistan, but he didn’t mind when it came to Peter. On the less common occasions where he would make the contact first, he always made sure the boy had time to move away from touch if he needed to. Peter was shy, he wasn’t normally the one to initiate the affection, but once it was offered, he melted into the touch and let it consume him, more so than ever before, now that Carter was in his life. He had always been slightly sheepish when it came to talking about his relationship with Tony, if he couldn’t explain to himself why he felt so comfortable and at home with the man, how would he ever tell the mechanic like May always suggested. He remembered how big of a grin had been on her face when he accidentally referred to Tony as his ‘father-figure.’
“Thanks, f – for not telling May about my face and for getting us food… it – it was fun.” He quickly began to pull back, thinking he had overstepped what the billionaire was comfortable with. Tony was fast to return the hug when he felt Peter leaning back away, he dropped his arms and let them hang over the kid’s back, patting gently and resting his chin atop the thick curls.
“It’s all good, you don’t need to thank me kiddo, I wanted to.” Both of them stayed still for a moment longer, then when the embrace finally broke apart, Peter slid out from the car as he tucked his hands into his jacket sleeves compulsively.
He watched Peter as he walked back into the building and waved goodbye as he turned back, smiling sadly. His body seemingly shrank back into himself as the same dismal expression clouded his face when he turned inside and walked out of sight before his cracking mask of ‘normality’ finally broke away and the tears fell once again. But Tony couldn’t see as the teen’s cheeks grew wet, all he could see was his kid’s back as he moved into the elevator.
----
Carter was furious that night and by the time he was leaving for work, Peter was already sprawled out, unconscious, on his bedroom floor.
When he woke, how ever many minutes or hours later it had been, he was confused and sluggish. He couldn’t remember the sequence of events that had ended with him on the ground, but he could recall the warm feeling of a hug being returned and not feeling hungry for the first time in months. He was drowsy, and as he went to stand up everything began to spin. The blurry room he could barely make out, split into two and he was aware enough to realise he had double vision. He sat down immediately, hoping the dizziness would fade along with the debilitating headache that was pounding away inside his skull painfully. Not trusting himself on his feet, he opted to crawl to the bathroom, wavering on his hands and knees every few seconds as his balance teetered and the nausea grew into thrashing waves that crept up his throat.
Peter felt the unsteady feeling that grew in his stomach and throat as his mouth flooded with saliva. He clambered to the bathroom, groaning as his bruised knees pressed sharply against the tile. The light was too harsh when he reached to flick it on, and he let his eyes adjust to the darkness while he leant over the toilet and tried not to lose the meal he had gotten with Tony. He managed to keep it back after considerable effort, but the lingering feeling that reminded him of too-long car journeys as a child still remained as he rested his sweaty forehead on the seat.
When May got up and started making noise as she got ready, everything did come up. The lights in the hallway and the clattering of bowls in the kitchen sent him over the edge and he threw up everything, the heaving made his bruised torso burn even more than the stomach acid stung his split lips. His ears were ringing and when May knocked on the door softly to ask why he was up so early the noise felt unbearable inside his skull.
“J – Jus’ goin’ toilet, have a good day at w – work” he forced out, still sitting on the floor, hoping that she would just take his word and leave for work before he started to retch again.
“Okay honey, see you later then.” Her voice was soft and caring, but the rattle of her keys and the noise of the front door shutting reverberated in his head like a gunshot. Briefly, he hoped what was most likely a concussion, wasn’t going to be a major issue as he pulled himself back into bed and lifted the covers over his head, wishing that Carter wasn’t arriving home any minute.