Workshop (Your Feelings)
Peter hadn’t been to the workshop in over a month, almost two now.
It hurt.
He missed Tony so much he could physically feel it, the few times he could hear the mechanic asking about him at the door of the apartment were hard, it hurt so much to hear his voice and not be able to just talk to him. Not about his problems, not about Carter, just about anything, everything that was going on in his life outside of home. Even if he didn’t talk, being in the workshop and working on a project together was all he wanted. All he needed.
By the time his concussion had faded away enough for him to stand up without the room going dark for a moment, he was willing to endure almost anything if it just meant he could see Tony.
Truthfully, it took him a few days to weigh it up, balancing how furious he knew Carter would be compared to the aches and bruises he already had. It wasn’t a particularly hard choice to decide it was worth it. Spending time with Tony was worth the beating he would certainly get when he got home. If he planned it right, there was a chance he could stay the night on Friday, spend Saturday with the mechanic, and prepare himself for the suffering that would no doubt occur Sunday night, once his Aunt was asleep.
He texted May when he left for school on Friday morning, she responded by lunch, telling him it was fine to hang out at the workshop as long as he was home to spend the day on Sunday, considering weekends were really the only time they got to see each other. If Tony picked him up at three he would have two days of time spent with one of the most important people in his life, time spent without feeling like he needed to cower when Carter was only a room over, to feel like he had to look over his shoulder every five minutes in fear of the man. It felt like he was getting forty-eight of bliss. He had grown so used to the constant, debilitating weight that pressed down on him every second he was in the apartment, that being away, safe, with Tony, it almost didn’t seem real for a moment.
When he saw Tony and his car, parked outside the school, he could have cried at the relief and assurance of safety he so desperately sought. The drive was good, he may have been hot outside wearing his long pants and hoodie, but the air con was on in the car and he wasn’t questioned about anything.
While they tinkered away he relished in simply babbling for the sake of it. He had gotten used to only speaking when asked direct questions, and the mundane chatter slowly forced his defensive, submissive body positioning to melt away. They ate dinner, he had an entire full-sized meal for the first time in what felt like a lifetime.
Tony ruffled his hair fondly when he got up and walked by. He couldn’t help the flinch, too many times had his curls been used as a handhold or a means of forcing his head down into a wall or table. Once the instinctual fright passed, he smiled and turned into the touch, if the mechanic had noticed anything, he didn’t bring it up. He hoped that Tony wouldn’t catch on to the winces as his bruises were twisted at an uncomfortable angle, or the flinching and tensing up when something moved too fast. He didn’t let the worry sour the time he got to spend at the workshop, and he made sure to take advantage of a full night’s sleep, not having to worry about what time Carter was getting home from work.
They fell asleep on the couch, Peter leant his head on Tony’s shoulder softly, a small tint to his cheeks as he saw the mechanic smiling to himself and not moving away from the touch. He let the sensation of the body next to him rising and falling help him sleep soundly. The next morning, when he woke up, he had been covered with a blanket and the kitchen smelled like food. He trailed out and spent the rest of the day playing around with things in the workshop and laughing with Tony until both of their ribs hurt.
----
Tony let Peter lean on him, a small smile gracing his lips when he felt the teen slumping against him lazily. He waited until the kid was out like a light before he tenderly brushed a curl from his forehead and leant him back until he was reclined on the couch like it was a bed. He laid a blanket over the boy and noticed how his face softened in sleep, his forehead and nose weren’t scrunched in thought, his shoulders were lax, the tension he had seemingly been carrying drained out of his form and his head rested on his arms. Tony gently tilted his head up and slid a pillow underneath before walking back down to the workshop and tiring himself out, so he could sleep too.
He woke up early and when he walked into the lounge to check on the kid, he was still fast asleep, cheek pressed against the cushion and legs curled up against the back of the couch, one arm dangling over the side so his knuckles grazed the floor. Tony couldn’t help the fond smile that crossed his lips when he saw Peter splayed across the furniture happily. He moved to the kitchen and started to prepare food while he waited for the teen to wake.
He didn’t like the way that he noticed Peter stiffening back up when he finally woke, he didn’t like the way that he tensed when the fork clanged against the surface of the bench or flinched when their arms bumped together as they ate. Tony didn’t want the boy to start drifting back into his quieter self, so he dragged him down to the workshop and pulled out the textbooks Peter regularly left lying around.
“Okay kiddo, I’m helping you get ahead for advanced science class, so basically I’m teaching you advanced advanced science.” Peter grinned widely and jumped into the seat next to him, spinning around in a circle before pulling the chair in and resting his face on his elbows, a mock look of intense concentration on his face while Tony rolled his eyes fondly and threw him a pen. “You’re welcome, I’m making you even more of a genius, use it for good and don’t take over the world or I’ll set Iron Man on you.” He poked Peter’s arm with the pen teasingly.
“Oh please, even if I used my brain for evil, you’d never set the suit on me,” he swung around in the chair again as he laughed. “You lurrrve me too much,” his foot slid off the chair and dragged against the floor to bring his spin to a halt. “Uh, like, I – I don’t mean that like… y’know I just, um –” he coughed, spluttering through his own words. “J – just, May ‘larbs’ me but she also loves me too but it – uh, it – it’s different with us cus, uh – uh you’re… I’m…” Peter’s face was flushed a dark pink, he licked his lips nervously, squeezing his eyes shut as if he couldn’t believe what he had just said, and refused to meet Tony’s eyes.
“Kid,” he levelled the boy with a calm gaze, pushing as much relaxed air into his words as possible. “Kid, relax a bit,” he smirked mirthfully to ease his tone, “you know Iron Man lurrrves everyone.” Peter finally looked up at him, his cheeks still flushed abashedly, he smiled shyly.
“Uh, y – yeah,” he laughed weakly, “s – sorry. I uh – I didn’t mean to… um, say that you actually lo – uh… yeah.” Peter was biting his lower lip obsessively, but he scrambled to tap at an equation on the page regardless, slowly crawling his way out of the pit of embarrassment he had dug himself into. “So… with these components here, would you factor them into the reactants or would they make up some of the catalyst.” Tony took the obvious bait without hesitation, he knew the boy well enough to recognise when he needed a distraction.
“Yep, you got it, they would comprise the base reactants so when the actual reaction occurred the formula doesn’t badly impact on the products formed.” Peter let the mechanic throw words and equations at him gladly, after a few minutes the initial embarrassment had faded away into the relaxed nature of the workshop again and he was content to idly tap his pen against his hands as he listened to Tony explaining things. He paid attention, he was quite happy just watching the man circling parts of the workings and point things out while he was learning.
Peter had been concentrating, he had focused on exactly what Tony was saying and even jotting down some of the key things, so he could understand the concept better. His eyes had drifted from the homework strewed across the desk, he had been aiming to meet the billionaire’s eyes to show that he was listening, but now his gaze had drifted. He was staring at a minuscule, faded and obsolete cut just above Tony’s eyebrow and beside his temple. The skin was scabbed over, but it hadn’t been there the last time he came over to the lab. The injury was so tiny it couldn’t even classify as an injury, it looked so normal, especially for a superhero to have, but something about it set off Peter’s mind.
“ – eter? Pete?” He snapped his eyes back down and shuffled uncomfortably in his chair as his mentor’s face, now pinched with slight concern, turned toward him. “You okay kiddo?” He nodded weakly, his eyes flicking up to the small graze for just a moment before he dropped his head again to stare blankly at the pages in front of him. “Sorry, did I go too quick then? You drifted a bit there bud,” Tony rested his hand over the pen Peter had been tapping nervously against the desk, he opened his mouth to ask again, but the teen couldn’t stop himself from blurting out the question to calm the growing worry in his mind.
“What’s that cut? O – on your forehead, it wasn’t there before.” Tony blinked, taken aback for a moment.
“Uh, I just fiddled around with the faceplate and left a wire a little too loose, nothing major. Didn’t even bleed, why?” He looked to Peter incredulously and the teen gulped, immediately feeling stupid, because of course Tony Stark was okay. He wouldn’t put let himself get pushed around, he wouldn’t lie about it.
Tony wasn’t a liar like he was.
“Nothing, I just… just thought – it was dumb, I was making sure you were okay, sorry.” He chewed the cap of his pen and bit the inside of his cheek until he could feel himself beginning to wince from the pain of it. “I, um, hadn’t seen news of a fight on T.V with Iron Man and just… uh, yeah, sorry.”
“No, it’s fine, don’t apologise.” There was a pause in the conversation and Peter spent all of it wishing he had just kept his mouth shut. If he could drop his head against the desk in frustration, he would have. “Is this stuff even on your curriculum?” He gladly diverted his attention back to the homework laid out before them both, ignoring the way his heart stuttered when he was sure Tony was okay.
“P – probably not.” Maybe he was projecting, maybe he was just making sure everybody he cared about was safe because he internally wished he had the courage to ask Tony to help him be okay. He just needed to focus on the present and ignore any worry churning inside him about the future, because if he was in the lap with Tony, he would cherish the time before he had to go home instead of sullying it with his stuttering and aversion to talking about home life.
----
Logically, Tony made sure the rest of the day was enjoyable for Peter, he made jokes, let the kid have free rain in the workshop, ordered his favourite pizza, threw a napkin at him and blew something small up in the lab just to see him laugh while they ducked under a bench. When he finally ushered him to the car, he was almost hesitant to see him go, he worried it would be another massive wait before they could spend time together again.
When Peter was dropped home he wavered in the car for longer then what was strictly normal, but neither of the two cared. Despite wanting to latch onto the mechanic for another hug, he didn’t want the man to worry any more than he probably already was. Peter pulled himself back to the apartment and stood outside the door for almost five entire minutes before he reluctantly opened it and stepped in to find the apartment empty. For a moment, panic set in and all he could think was that Carter had snapped and hurt May because he hadn’t been there to take the beating. Before an anxiety attack overwhelmed him, his eyes caught a blue sticky note hanging off the fridge and when he scurried toward it and pulled it into his hands, he immediately slumped with relief.
‘Hi sweetie, we’ve gone out for dinner, there’s leftovers from lunch in the fridge for you. We’ll be back later on tonight.’
There was a series of rushed x’s and o’s at the bottom of the note, Peter smiled to himself as he pulled the container full of slightly burnt sausage rolls from the fridge. When he checked his phone, May had also texted him the same message, he shot her one back saying thanks and that he was getting an early night. The shower pulled multiple winces and groans from him as the spray hit his bruises, but he climbed into bed all the same and laid back on his pillow, remembering the feeling of gentle hands ruffling his hair without a hint of malice in them.
He slept uneasily that night and jolted upward when he heard May and Carter getting home late. He heard giggles and May shushing Carter, waving the man away as she softly knocked at his door and pushed it open.
“Hey Pete, I know you’re probably tired out from the workshop, I’m just coming to say goodnight.” She sat beside him on the mattress and from the hallway he could hear Carter getting ready for bed, at least that meant he was safe for that night. May’s hand carded through his hair, he dropped his head, so it lulled against her side and she sighed. “It’s been awhile since you’ve gone over to the workshop, how was it?” The light from the hallway illuminated the back of May’s head and made the edges of her brown hair glow slightly, her hand continued to move through his hair soothingly.
“It – it was…” he paused and let himself blow out a breath before he spoke. “It was amazing May, I – I’ve just been so busy with school and it had been so long since we, well… y’know, since we just tinkered and hung out n’ stuff.” May smiled knowingly and looked him in the eyes.
“You’ve missed him, haven’t you Pete?” He nodded slowly, containing the blush that threatened to tint his cheeks. “Why don’t you get him to come and have dinner over here, this coming week Tuesday I have a day off, someone swapped shifts. I’ll order some more Thai and once Carter goes to work we can watch a movie, just the three of us. That sound good?” He looked at his hands and played with the hem of his shirt awkwardly.
“I – is Carter okay with that?” May frowned in confusion slightly and he swallowed nervously. “I – I just mean, like it’s your only day off for the week and I don’t wanna take time away from you o – or anything…” He wished he had just kept his mouth shut, he should have stayed quiet and nodded. “You and Carter are really happy a – and I don’t want to accidentally get in the way of that, b – but I do… I do miss Tony sometimes,” he trailed of and kept silent, not daring to look up at May’s face.
“Pete, you know that with the hours I work, all our schedules are hectic, and I haven’t seen much of you at all these past few months. I had all of today and yesterday with Carter, I want some time with you and Tony,” she tapped the bed beside his hands and he looked up. She was looking at him closely, almost squinting in the absence of proper lighting. “You’re growing up so quick Pete, you need to eat more, hm?” He shrugged but smiled, bumping her shoulder with his mildly.
“Not with your cooking,” he joked, she smirked and pushed his head away with her hand, laughing lightly.
“Sure mister, I didn’t hear any complaints about those rolls I left in the fridge for you.” She placed a kiss on his forehead and stood up, still smiling warmly. “Tuesday’s settled, get some sleep, you’ve got rings under your eyes.” Her eyes crinkled when her smile broadened as she clicked the door shut behind her and walked to her own bedroom.
----
The first thing he did the next morning was text Tony, who replied easily and said he was free to swing by and have dinner with them. Peter spent all of the Sunday close to his Aunt, mentally prepping himself for what was coming once she wasn’t there.
He didn’t know why, but when May hugged him goodnight and went to her room to sleep as he staggered off to his own room, he just sat at the edge of his bed, didn’t bother to change into pyjamas, didn’t bother to crawl under the covers. He just waited for the inevitable, he knew it was coming, why get into bed if he was just going to be yanked out of it by his hair as soon as Carter came in?
Eventually, he heard the T.V turn off, he heard footsteps walking down to May’s room, and then he heard them coming down the hall to his room. The man always checked she was asleep before he dealt with Peter. The door pushed open and he stood up to face Carter, despite the crushing weight in his chest shoving him back down.
“So,” Carter’s hands gripped his shirt and tugged him forward harshly before slamming him backward into the wall beside his bed. “You snuck off to Stark’s house to stay the night without asking,” the corner of his bedside table was digging into the back of his leg painfully. “And now you’re bringing him into the apartment for dinner?” His fingers dug in, Peter could feel his nails grating against his shoulder and collarbones.
“I – I texted Aunt May f – first.” Carter’s lips peeled back into a snarl when Peter spoke, the fingers tightened, impossibly, and pulled a pained whine from his throat as his own hands scrabbled to find purchase on Carter’s so he could loosen the unrelenting grip.
“You know exactly what happens when you spend time with Stark,” he squirmed against the wall but only succeeded in scraping his leg further against the edge of the table. His head throbbed as fight or flight instincts kicked in, little snippets came flying to the forefront of his mind and he focused on May’s hand, running through his hair, Tony’s shoulder as he fell asleep, his hair being ruffled, a warm, workshop calloused hand pressed against his forehead and cheeks, the feeling of the mechanic’s arms dropping to return his hug. “Once Tuesday is over and him and May are out, you are going to learn the consequences of –”
“I don’t c – care,” he surprised himself when he cut Carter off, but then again, all he could feel was Tony tilting his chin gently and looking across at him over the rim of a coffee mug, a half-smile dangling on his face while he listened to Peter recounting his latest experiment in chem lab. Despite the terror coursing through him, he knew that every slap for him, was one that the people he loved would never feel, and he would take this for a lifetime if it meant nobody else got hurt. “Y – you can punish me all you want… s – seeing Tony is w – worth it.” Carter was glaring with intent, but his mouth kept pushing words out and he didn’t know how to stop it. “I d – don’t know why you hate him… h – he’s only ever been good to May a – and I know you don’t care, b – but he’s always been th – there for me too. Tony is nothing but a g – good pers –”
“Listen here, brat.” Carter lifted his weight for a moment before shoving him back against the wall, making the bedside table rattle. His voice was low, and it wasn’t just because he didn’t want May hearing, he was exemplifying the intensity of his threats. “You got it right when you say I hate Stark and I don’t give a shit about you, I couldn’t give two fucks whether you care about punishment or not. They’ll continue each and every time you let that man into this apartment or run off after school with him, regardless whether you learn from them or not, got it?” The fingers squeezed, and he let out a cracked yelp as he felt the nails piercing skin.
“Y – yes, yes… I – I do.” Carter used him to shove his body off and away from the wall, before turning and storming out of the room, leaving Peter to jump for the door to stop it from slamming and waking May up.
His hands were shaking violently, and his breathing wasn’t coming evenly. All he could feel was Carter’s harsh hits, he couldn’t focus on any of the soft touches May and Tony dealt him, he was petrified, and the feeling wasn’t going away, even now that Carter had left the room. He choked on a dry sob and bit down on his fist to stop the noises. Peter pressed his forehead against the door before rolling over to his back and sliding down until he was sat on the floor with his knees pulled to his chest and his spine against the wood. “O – oh god,” tears were streaming from his eyes, running down his cheeks and dropping onto his knees but he couldn’t stop them. He was trembling as the winds inside his head whirled together and created a hurricane that blew him into a new mental state. “I can’t, I – I – I can’t do this, I can’t. I – I can’t do this by myself, I can’t.”
He felt so pathetic, he didn’t want to picture how he must have looked, on the floor of his bedroom crying. The hurricane was picking up so strongly and spinning his thoughts around that he couldn’t get a grip on his lungs and he wasn’t catching any air. “I can’t – I – I can’t. Pleasepleaseplease… I can’t.” He stumbled to the bathroom and was barely able to flip the seat up before his dinner was crawling up his throat and more tears were sliding down his face, even as he doused it in water blearily and avoided the mirror.
Everything felt unreal in that moment, his fingers felt like T.V static as he balled them into fists while he stood, and when the world spun, it didn’t register in his mind. Peter felt like a fried circuit board as his legs numbly carried him back to his room while his fists tugged at his hair and pushed at his temples, trying to force the gale inside his head to stop so that he could just breathe. He felt like his lungs and body were shutting down as if he had hit the emergency reset button, but he wasn’t resetting, he was breaking down. It felt like something had implanted a virus into a computer and everything was shutting down.
He was a computer and Carter was his virus. He was shutting down, he was breaking, he needed to be reset. Someone had to help him lift this weight, he needed the weight to go away or he was going to crack.
But suddenly, as if someone had held up a hand to freeze the hurricanes and viruses inside of him, a thought bubbled through him. It calmed the system, he was cooling down, he would be okay if he just followed that thought and held on like a lifeline.
Tony.
Peter doesn’t think. By the time he had calmed down enough to move without hurling again or passing out, it was six thirty-two in the morning and May left in less than half an hour. He grabbed his phone, an extra hoodie and shoved his shoes on before he paced alongside his bed until he heard May leaving and Carter getting home. Once he was positive that the man had gotten into bed, he crawled out the fire escape as silently as he could and dropped to the ground. After only a moment to steady himself from the slight drop, and for the black edges of his vision to fade away, he was walking, or practically jogging until the apartment was out of view.
Peter didn’t stop or slow except for checking his phone for directions. Men and women dressed for work were barging past him, there was so much noise, but it was all fuzz to his eyes and ears, he was trained on one thing and the blurry tint to the corners of his eyes didn’t hold him back anymore. He couldn’t even feel the burn in his legs or the strain on his bruises as he careened past more and more buildings. The only thing he could feel was the weight crushing his torso and the phantom sensation of the lingering, comforting touches that he sought after. His mind was filled with a continuous echo of Tony.
TonyTonyTony. Get to Tony, he would make this okay, he would lift the weight. Tony would help.
By the time the tower was coming into view and he could see the doors, his hands had begun to quiver again, and his breathing was laboured. His tongue was dry, and his head felt like it was filled with packing foam. He walked through the spinning doors like a zombie and swiped his access card, swaying on his feet as the elevator took him up to the labs. The sound of music was distant, and he wasn’t fully focusing on anything except the tell-tale clinking of metal on metal which he knew for a fact was Tony. He was running now, he stumbled when he pushed open the doors to the lab, something fell off the bench when he threw an arm out to steady himself on his way to Tony.
----
Tony had been nodding his head to the pulse of the music and twisting pieces of wiring together precisely as he heard the bang of hands against glass and the sliding sound of the door pushing open. When he looked up, Peter, to his absolute and complete surprise, was tumbling through the doorway clumsily and knocking over an old project as he skittered forward like a lost animal.
The kid was sweaty and pale, he didn’t look halfway put together at all, his hair resembled Tony’s after he pulled several all-nighters in a row. His face seemed gaunt and his eyes were lined with what looked like more bruising, but he slowly realised they were just bags, from not sleeping. He jolted up from his chair and left it spinning as he met the teen halfway.
“Kid wha –”
“Tony!” Peter careened into him without slowing down in the slightest, he had to grip the desk beside them to keep himself on his feet when he was met with a frantic, desperate hug. “I – I – I…” Peter’s mouth was opening and closing like he didn’t know what was going on, for a moment, he thought the boy might have been tipsy with how delirious he was acting. There was a face shoved against his chest and fingers scrabbling at the back of his old shirt, but he held the kid up all the same with an arm around his back and another laid across his shoulder blades. He thought he heard a hiss of pain as they made contact, but between the boy’s panting and spluttering, there was no way to tell.
“Pete, what are you… I thought you had school?” Peter hiccupped and sniffled quietly, burying his face into the crook of his neck and murmuring something quietly. “What’s that? You’re scaring me a bit bud… mind telling me what’s going on?”
“I – I just… I can’t… I don’t – I…” Tony could feel the boy’s chest rising and falling rapidly against his ribcage and he made the decision to pull back from the hug and lean him over.
“Take some deep breaths for me kiddo, just calm down, I’m not angry or anything. Just focus on getting some air.” He pushed away the hair that fell into the teen’s face and trailed the hand down to the back of his neck to finger-brush the curls soothingly as Peter sucked in breath after breath. “There you go, it’s all good buddy.” He waited until there was at least some of the usual colour back in the boy’s face before he crouched down to eye level and began the arduous task of digging the problem out of the finicky kid. “Okay, you feeling alright now, bit better?” Peter nodded shakily and sunk to his knees, so he could reach up and wrap his arms around Tony’s neck. He huffed a light laugh as he felt the smaller head lolling against his shoulder tiredly while he carried them both to the couch in the corner of the room. “Right, wanna start by telling me if school was cancelled, or am I about to get a call from a vengeful Aunt?” He smiled and rubbed Peter’s shoulder with a calming, joking tone in his voice.
“I – I just… m’ sorry, I just wan – needed to see you.” Tony’s eyes softened even more, and he squeezed Peter’s shoulder gently. The mechanic had no idea that the affectionate touches were washing away the feeling of Carter’s fingers pinning the teen against a wall as non-veiled threats were whispered behind closed doors. “I di – didn’t think about school… s – sorry,” Tony knew a plagued mind when he saw one, and something about the way Peter was stuttering more and wringing his hands together anxiously was telling him that he needed to talk it out. He was good at sensing those things out, especially when it came to Peter, who exhibited the same behaviour that he did. By the looks of the bags under his eyes and obvious dip in body weight, the kid was working through something and he needed to let it out.
“Don’t apologise, I’ll call the school later, it’s no hassle. You just tell me what’s going on, I’ve been worried about you for a while now kiddo.” Peter didn’t answer him, just continued to fiddle with his twitchy fingers and nibble at his lips nervously. The kid did this often, Tony had spent enough time around him to know when something was really wrong, because usually it would go one of two ways. Either, he would ask the teen what was wrong, and he would spill it easily, then brush it off without too much difficulty, he did that a lot when it came to kids giving him a hard time at school, or he was struggling with advanced science work (which, to be fair, wasn’t often considering how much of a genius he was). The second way he played it, Peter wouldn’t be able to tell him anything himself, he had to dig the truth out of him, question by question, assurance by assurance. It sounded like work and it was hard work sometimes, but Tony was willing to do anything, just so he could know for a fact that the kid, his kid, was okay.
“I’m sorry, I d – didn’t mean to… I didn’t mean to just show up, I – I wasn’t thinking and… I – I just started walking and I don’t kn – I don’t know, then I looked up and I saw the tower and I saw you, then I was just… I was just running, I – I don’t know why or –”
“Wait, wait, wait.” Tony held up a hand and the fingers over Peter’s shoulders tightened a fraction in concern. “Pete… are you telling me that you walked here, by yourself, from Queens?” The boy nodded meekly, fearing he had done something wrong. “God kiddo, that’s at least a three-hour walk. Why didn’t you call me?” A gaunt, bleak face stared back at him in a way that made his head throb in worry.
He stretched his thumb and index finger around Peter’s wrist and frowned when they touched, with plenty of room to spare. “Did you eat breakfast this morning?” The teen shrugged in a way that said he definitely hadn’t eaten. Tony lifted his hand cautiously, waiting until he was sure Peter’s eyes were tracking his movements before he cupped both sides of his face and laid his thumbs over his cheeks, rubbing small circles and surveying the dark rings under his eyes closely. “Have you been sleeping? Did you even sleep at all last night?” He dropped his hands to allow Peter to shake his head slowly. “Why? Why haven’t you been sleeping kid?”
“I – I…” The boy let his shoulders sag and Tony watched as his mouth fumbled to find the words. “I… I can’t sleep,” Peter whispered quietly, averting his gaze in favour of toying with his hands again. He quirked an eyebrow to egg the kid on. “I think, last night… I just – I don’t know what happened, I was fine, then I wasn’t, and I was crying… I – I didn’t know why but I felt like I was just… I couldn’t breathe right, and I was walking around and around in circles then I heard May leaving and I was outside… then I saw the tower and you,” he took a shaky breath, “it all just sort of… blurred together?”
“Pete, did you have a panic attack?” He reached out to lay a hand over Peter’s, halting the fidgeting and stilling his outward expression of anxiety.
“I – I don’t know… I th – think so, maybe…” Peter flipped his hand over and clasped his fingers around and in-between Tony’s, gripping them tightly and leaning forward so his face was hidden against the mechanic’s shoulder. “It was my fault… I – I should’ve st – stopped it, a – and now I’m getting nightmares b – but it’s all my fault.”
“Hey, no Pete, no. Panic attacks are not your fault, don’t say tha –”
“N – not the panic attack. I mean B – Ben.” He sniffled again, and Tony could feel him tensing up as they drifted closer to the obvious heart of the problem.
“What do you mean about Ben?” Tony brushed a loose curl behind Peter’s ear as he took a breath to answer.
“I – I was there… when it happened. It – it was my f – fault,” his voice broke on a sob and while Tony was flooded in utter confusion, he still pulled the teen into his chest and rubbed his back as the tears began to fall.
“Shh, kid it’s okay, it’s okay. I promise it’s okay.” Peter was crying now, and he was almost worried the boy was going to fall into another panic attack because the sobs were so heavy and thick.
“I n – never told you… I – I thought – I thought you’d hate me,” he sniffled, and continued talking before Tony could protest his statement. “W – we were just getting food, a – and there was a man running. I – I didn’t see the gun, b – but Ben did, he tried to help. H – he was just trying to help a – and I was just standing there where he p – pushed me away. I should’ve helped, I – I could’ve done something.”
“Kiddo, that was not your fault. God, you were ten years old Peter, you couldn’t have done anything.” He could feel the damp spot on his shoulder growing as the boy sobbed through the recount. Tony hadn’t known, neither May or Peter brought Ben up much, for good reason apparently. “Bud, hey, you can’t put that on yourself.”
“H – he got shot a – and I didn’t try to h – help him stop the man with the gun, h – he told me to stay back, b – but I should’ve – I should have helped…” He ran a hand through Peter’s matted curls and rubbed his shoulder blades.
“Peter, don’t blame yourself, that was not your fault and it never will be. Ben was a smart man, he told you to stay back for a good reason.” He stilled his hands and waited until the boy took the message and looked up at him with watery eyes. “I could never hate you buddy. You don’t need to keep stuff away from me because I’ll never blame you for anything like that. There is no way in hell that would ever be your fault, you couldn’t have done anything to help, not against a gun, not when you were only ten years old.” Peter squirmed in the embrace and Tony let go so the teen could lean forward and drop his head into his hands, rubbing his eyes and wiping away the remainder of his tears.
“I’m sorry, I – I am. I just… I’m sorry about all the c – calls, and how I’m in your space all the t – time now.” Tony was about to interrupt to assure the kid that it was all fine, but Peter kept talking. “I haven’t been sleeping well… like, at all. T – too many nightmares, I keep seeing it all again and I just – I blame myself every time.” He huffed concernedly, looking up to the ceiling and chewing the inside of his lip as he thought of what he could possibly do to take away Peter’s pain.
“Okay,” he said after a few minutes of silence and thought. “Here’s what’s gonna happen now. I’m taking you to the kitchen and getting some food into you,” he brushed Peter’s wrist to make his point, running a thumb over the jutting bones and frowning slightly as he took in exactly how slim the boy’s arms had gotten. “Then, once you’ve eaten what I deem to be a substantial amount, you’re taking a nap and resting until I can get you home to May.” Peter continued to stare down at his lap with a dull expression.
“D – does this mean you aren’t coming over… o – on Tuesday?” Tony smiled and rubbed the teen’s shoulder warmly, letting him lean into his side.
“Nah, I’ll be there kiddo, wouldn’t pass on Thai and a movie.” He lightly bumped Peter’s shoulder and smiled when he looked up. “And I’d never pass on spending time with you,” he watched Peter intently before continuing. “Don’t ever think I don’t enjoy your calls and stuff, you’re not in my space all the time,” the kid squinted at him curiously and he pursed his lips in thought before persisting. “Look, you know I’m a bit… iffy… about touching and all that, but I don’t care about it when you need some. Right now, here, when you’re upset, bud you gotta know I really don’t give a shit.” Tony wrinkled his nose and nudged Peter again, “you need a hug, you get a hug. Real simple. I’m not gonna push you away or anything like that, I’m not an asshole.”
“O – okay…” Peter chewed at the inside of his cheek and Tony sighed with a smile on his face.
“C’mere,” he said quietly, tugging the teen into his chest as he rubbed his back and slipped a hand upward into his curls, carding through them contentedly. “You’ll be okay, I’ve got you covered,” he murmured into the kid’s hair as he felt the smaller body melting into the embrace. “I know when you’re stressed, you aren’t hungry, but you gotta eat more,” he reminded. The thick hoodies and long pants had swaddled the boy, but through the hug he could feel how much weight had actually been lost.
Peter was so bony now; the hug was bordering on mildly uncomfortable for the mechanic as long legs and arms gave way to sharp elbows and knees. “Let’s get you something to eat,” he felt the teen shifting and as the hug broke apart he stood and nodded towards the door. “Come on, you’re too scrawny, I’m getting you food,” Tony turned on his heel and moved for the door as he saw Peter standing from the couch in the corner of his eye. “Y’know, I could start sending a suit to the fire escape by your room every night to take you pizza, so you gain some more weig –” There was a small groan from behind him and he turned around in time to see Peter’s body hitting the ground.
----
He sunk into Tony as soon as his arms opened for an embrace, he pushed his face into the mechanic’s shoulder and, despite the fact that it wasn’t even eleven in the morning yet, he could still smell the coffee and metallic tinge of the workshop clinging to his shirt. “I know when you’re stressed, you aren’t hungry, but you gotta eat more.” He snuggled somewhat further into the hug in answer and smiled against the fabric of Tony’s shirt. Peter sighed softly, his puff blew against the billionaire’s collarbone and the teen hummed as he felt calloused fingers working their way through his curls methodically. “Let’s get you something to eat,” Tony said from above him. He shuffled as the arms around him dropped and he watched lazily as the mechanic stood from the couch and lifted his chin, motioning toward the door. “Come on, you’re too scrawny, I’m getting you food,” Tony insisted. Peter stood from the couch.
The familiar feeling that he had grown used to by now settled around him like a blanket as the slur of Tony’s words hazed together until they were a mere ringing in his ears. The edges of his vision grew darker and fuzzy dots popped in front of his eyes as his head pounded from the skull outwards. He blinked a few times as the darkness continued to eat across just the corners of his vision and began to overcome his entire line of sight. He heard a groan, faintly recognised it came from him, and then soon enough, the only thing he could see was the faded grey of Tony’s shirt floating away as the ground started rising to meet him.
----
“Peter!” He sprinted to the teen sprawled on the floor and immediately dropped to his knees, his hands hovered over the boy’s form as his mind raced with every possible solution and answer to the issue. “Kid, you hear me? Wake up!” Peter’s eyes scrunched, and he groaned for a second time as Tony lifted his head gently and moved it into his lap. “What the fuck, what the fuck…” he mumbled to himself as he repositioned Peter’s body further into his lap and brushed a thumb over his cheek to hopefully encourage and speed up his slow trek back to consciousness. His eyes flickered open and hazel-brown irises were staring up into Tony’s face. The sudden rush of pure relief and the accompanying drop of adrenaline had the mechanic immediately launching into feverish rambling. “Jesus, Pete… Shit, you can’t just not eat or drink anything then walk three hours on a completely empty tank. You could’ve hit your head on the side of a table or cracked your skull on the floor! If I hadn’t been here, what if you – what if you just never woke up? How do you think that would make me f – how… God kiddo. J – just don’t ever do that again.”
Peter wasn’t fully coherent yet, but he was smart enough to work out for himself how he ended up on the floor. He mumbled an unclear apology before Tony blew out the breath he had been holding since he heard the unmistakeable sound of someone hitting the floor. “You can’t do that to me Pete… I’m too old for that shit now,” he smiled weakly in a poor attempt of using humour to mask how incredibly terrified he had been when he turned to see Peter slumped on the floor, unconscious and unresponsive to the world.
“Sorry,” Peter whispered hoarsely, pushing his hands underneath himself to begin slowly sitting up.
“Hey, just… go slow,” Tony rested a hand on the teen’s shoulder and braced another on his opposite arm as he pulled him onto his feet. Peter winced, and his eyes screwed shut, “what is it? Are you going to pass out again?” He asked hurriedly with worry staining his tone.
“N – no, m’ just… a little stiff. Sorry,” he dropped the wince from his face, but Tony still had the suspicion he was in pain.
“Don’t say sorry. I think I should get you home kid. I don’t want you losing anymore sleep because you aren’t in your own bed or anyth –”
“No!” Peter almost flinched at the volume of his own voice because it came out so much louder than he meant it to. From the look on Tony’s face, he hadn’t expected that reaction either, and the boy was quick to try and cover it up. “I – I just, I’d sleep better here… I want to stay here, w – with you…” Peter’s hand innocently curled out towards where Tony was still holding his arm for stability, and his smaller fingers wrapped around his hand softly. “I just wanna stay with you, f – for now,” he tightened his grip minutely and looked up at Tony with wide, slightly watery eyes.
How in the hell was he ever supposed to say no to that kid?
“Okay, that’s – that sounds like a plan, you wanna stay the night too?” Peter hesitated, twisting his foot from side to side while his head screamed, ‘think about how angry Carter will be when he finds out…’ Tony picked up on his reluctance and squeezed his arm gently, getting his attention. “I’ll call May and the school while you sleep and eat buddy, that’s all you need right now.”
“O – okay, thank you.” Peter looked down at the ground while Tony’s steered him out of the lab and into the spare room that he always used when he stayed overnight. The hands on his shoulder and upper back felt steadying as they guided him carefully under the covers after helping him kick his shoes off. The sheets were cool against his flushed skin, and as he slid further underneath them, wiggling his now shoeless toes around comfortably, he could smell the same brand of laundry detergent and fabric softener that always lingered on Tony’s clothes. The mechanic pushed away the extra pillows and put one behind Peter’s head, running a thumb over his hairline to both brush away the stray curls and to encourage him to lean back against the soft pillowing.
“I’m getting you something from the kitchen to eat, just take it easy, okay?” The thumb pulled away and Peter could feel as Tony’s weight shifted off the bed.
“M’kay,” he rolled onto his side, so he was facing the billionaire, “thank you.” He murmured lightly, blinking up at Tony as he dimmed the lights and leant against the doorframe casually.
“Anytime kiddo,” he gave a half-grin and pulled the door almost shut with one finger before walking to the kitchen and rummaging through the cupboards for something quick and easy. His priority was getting food and water into Peter, he could actually take the time to make a full meal for lunch and dinner later, but sleep was what would get the boy functioning properly.
He pulled a can of soup from the depths of the cupboard and checked the expiration date before pouring it into a pot and stirring idly between adding his own herbs and spices to make the sad meal slightly more palatable for the teen. He transferred the soup into a bowl and wrapped the underside of it in a cloth, so there was no way it could warm enough to burn, before filling a glass with water and heading back to the boy’s room.
Tony made sure to knock softly before toeing open the door, he smiled when Peter’s face had softened in sleep and his dark eyelashes rested against his cheeks. He put the bowl on a small table and crouched down so he wasn’t towering over the bed. “Hey Pete? Time to get some food into you now,” the teen’s hands were tucked under his chin and his nose scrunched imperceptibly before he nuzzled it further into the pillow. Tony huffed a soft laugh and rubbed his fingers along the nape of his neck to rouse him, but even in sleep he turned into the touch and smiled dopily. “C’mon kiddie, soup for the soul or whatever the hell people go on about,” he twirled a loose curl around his finger and waited patiently as Peter stirred slowly.
“Mm, what ‘bout soup?” The teen cracked an eye open, smiled, then blinked both of them so he was staring at Tony with a still mildly sleep-dazed look in his eyes. Tony lifted the bowl carefully and stacked an additional pillow, so Peter could sit up better. “Smells good,” he sighed as he swirled the spoon around the lip of the bowl and simpered gratefully.
“It’s just meant to tide you over until I can get something bigger for lunch and dinner,” Tony fiddled with a string of thread from the sheets and let Peter lean into his side slightly as he worked through the soup happily. Every few minutes he would flash an appreciative smile and murmur his thanks, which Tony waved off each time, assuring the kid that he didn’t mind and that he didn’t need to thank him. “You should get some more sleep, I’ll wake you up for lunch and we can go from there, you still need to rest tonight though.” Peter nodded contentedly and snuggled back under the sheets, letting Tony push aside the extra pillow and pull the door halfway closed before walking down the hall to call May and the school to let them know.
----
“He’s been… off for awhile Tony. I’ve been keeping a closer eye on him when we get time in the weekends, but he’s acting so withdrawn lately. I’m getting worried about him.” Tony sighed into the receiver and rubbed the side of his face with a hand tiredly.
“I know, it’s the same on my end. Do you think this could have anything to do with why he’s been going out so much during the week?” There was a drawn-out silence before May answered him.
“To my knowledge he hasn’t been… Carter always says that he’s holed up in his room all day, where’d you get that idea from?” He blinked and thought back to every time he had dropped by to see the kid over the weeks and each time he had been out with a friend or staying the night somewhere.
“Uh, I just thought that he had been…” he trailed off and frowned at his feet, kicking a stray bolt across the workshop and listening as it skittered across the floor and rolled to a stop a few feet away. “You know what, why don’t we just talk to him tomorrow night, maybe after dinner or something. We need to get all these answers from him, and I’m certain it’d be easier if we made sure he was more comfortable, well-rested and all that.” May verbalised her approval and agreeance while he danced his fingers across the work bench and flicked away some of the dust that had gathered over old sheets of paper he had abandoned. “He told me about Ben today…”
“Oh,” May said sadly, keeping her voice soft to wind around the pressure of the solemn admittance. “I’m sorry I never said anything about that, he was a mess, he didn’t want you to know.”
“Yeah, he told me he was afraid I’d hate him…” He dragged a finger along the handle of a welder’s torch, feeling the bumps and divots of the hand-hold while he remembered Peter sobbing into his chest. “I could never hate him, I don’t think he knows that though,” May was quiet as he thought, but right before he filled the silence with meaningless words, she spoke up again.
“I think he knows deep-down, just too afraid to admit it to himself, he looks up to you. I told him it wasn’t his fault, but I think he internalised it too much. He still blames himself, but he won’t talk about it, he bottles his feelings and hides them all away from me because he feels so guilty.” It was May’s turn to sigh into the phone before picking up a thin blanket of optimism and draping it over the situation. “He’ll be okay, we’ll sit down and talk to him about everything. He’s got to know that both of us are here for him regardless of whether he thinks the problem is his fault or not.”
“Exactly, and we’ll start to communicate better too.” May hummed curiously and he explained cautiously, “when he came here this morning and told me about Ben, he admitted he hadn’t been sleeping well, or really at all. He said he’d been having nightmares about it, this morning I think, from what he said, it sounded like he had a panic attack.”
“He used to get those… I just didn’t think he was still getting the nightmares that bad though. You think he should sleep in tomorrow, I’ll call the school?” Tony nodded before realising the woman couldn’t see him.
“Yeah, definitely. I’ll get some more food into him and make sure he sleeps better tonight, then we can talk tomorrow night after dinner.” He heard a rustling and thought May had nodded much like him.
“He hasn’t kept much from you… just about Ben, that’s really the only bad thing.” He quirked his head to the side in question and took a beat before speaking.
“What do you mean ‘hasn’t kept much,’ what else is he keeping from me?” Tony didn’t know it, but from the other end of the call, May was smiling to herself.
“I’m not supposed to say anything, you can dig that out of him yourself,” her tone was light and humorous, Tony rolled his eyes and huffed his own laugh.
“Okay, super funny. I’m making lunch now, talk tomorrow.” May said goodbye and he worried absently at his lower lip and started on the food. He made steak sandwiches, Peter needed some protein. Tony poured two glasses of orange juice and left everything on the counter while he moved to wake the boy up. He wrapped his knuckles on the door and pushed it open to find Peter, once again, fast asleep. “Hey kiddo, time to get up and have lunch,” the blankets rustled, and he could see the outlines of Peter’s legs shifting as he rolled over completely until his forehead was rested against Tony’s side and his hand was clutching onto the fabric of his shirt.
“Than’s ‘ony,” he slurred as his eyes opened into small slivers. The genius just smiled and ruffled Peter’s hair fondly before standing once the hand had detached from his shirt.
“C’mon, they’ll go soggy if you don’t get up now,” he walked to the kitchen while a still mildly delirious and sleep-deprived Peter trailed after him, rubbing his eyes tiredly. “It’s not too fancy, I think you already know I’m not exactly the best cook, but you gotta get something into you.” He watched Peter as he slid into one of the stools before sitting a seat over from him, close enough that their elbows brushed ever so lightly as they ate. “You still feeling tired?” He asked as he loaded the plates into the dishwasher and closed it with his ankle.
“Uh, not really,” his feet swung back and forth underneath the stool, only just managing to scrape the floor at his height. “We could get started on those new designs you were talking about the other day, I – if you’re free?” Tony leant against the counter and picked a small crumb off the front of Peter’s shirt with a small smile tugging at the edge of his lip.
“Always free for you kid, let’s head.” He pulled a bottle of water out of the fridge for the boy and once they had dug into the new project, he slid it across the bench and nodded his head towards it. “Drink, it’ll help with the head spins,” Peter twisted the cap and drank some before huddling down and furrowing his brow as he tapped his pencil against a notebook and scribbled various calculations down. “Don’t exert too much energy into getting any smarter than me.” Peter grinned lopsidedly and flicked a piece of eraser dust at him immaturely.
“As if I could ever be smarter, didn’t you invent a new element?” Tony smirked and fiddled with a screwdriver distractedly.
“That I did, but it’s not to say you’re never gonna end up doing something like that.” Peter scoffed slightly but didn’t make an attempt to argue. Two people with the same gene of stubbornness? Doesn’t end well, to say the least.
----
“Nope, not doing that tonight, as much as I’d love to bud, come on.” Tony prodded the side of Peter’s head and tapped his nose until his eyes opened.
“Hm?” He was slumped against Tony’s shoulder, his cheek rested lazily against the mechanic’s collarbone and the boy’s arm was wrapped loosely around Tony’s elbow.
“I’m just gonna walk you to the bedroom so you can sleep properly. Just walk with me and try not to fall on your face again,” he tugged Peter to his feet and piloted him to the spare room with two hands on his upper arms. He knitted his brows together when he saw Peter wince as he rolled into bed lethargically.
“That was one time,” the boy grumbled as he settled under the covers once again.
“Yeah, one time less than eight hours ago Pete.” He rolled his eyes fondly and folded the blankets up higher, so they were tucked around the teen’s shoulders to keep him warm. “I’m not gonna go that far, just call out if you need me and… and at least tell me if you have another nightmare, okay?” He hovered at the door for a moment, waiting for an affirmative from the kid.
“Okay… Tony?” He hummed and could see Peter fidgeting nervously, even under the covers. “Th – thank you, seriously – I really appreciate you.” He paused, realised what he had said and rectified it before he even looked at Tony’s face. “Uh, this – I really appreciate all of this.”
“It’s okay kid, I don’t want you to feel like you need to thank me, I just want you to be happy.” Peter smiled and tucked his face slightly further under the covers, but Tony knew him well enough to recognise the soft, pastel flush that rose on his cheeks as he burrowed his face under a pillow and mumbled a goodnight. Tony smiled to himself as he pulled the door closed, “yeah, yeah, night kiddo.” He sighed breathily and leant his forehead against the wall when the door was almost closed. He wandered back into the workshop and read over the notes the boy had been scribbling, his smile broadened without his permission and May’s words rang in his head.
‘He looks up to you.’
He could remember Peter’s wide eyes staring up at the starry ceiling, the projection reflecting in his irises and tinting the mirror image a sepia filtered, hazel tone. Then, he could see them as they tilted to meet his eyes, and true to May’s words, the kid looked up to Tony like he had hung those stars. Which technically he had, but Peter treated it as if he had practically crafted everything amazing in the galaxy and handed it to him in a gift-wrapped box.
‘Mister Stark… this is – this is amazing, I – thank you, thank you so much.’
Tony Stark might’ve had a son, he may have waited a few hours for the boy to fully fall asleep before meandering into the spare room and combing his fingers through those soft curls, but that was nobody’s business except his.