Chapter Text
Tony
The scotch brought warmth as it slipped down his throat, even before it had hit his stomach; the familiar aftertaste serving as a reminder of the past. The months, or was it years, he spent staring at the bottom of a bottle after Luca had been taken. And a few months following Siberia, though at least he hadn’t descended back into drugs that time. The glass - and the liquid inside it - wouldn’t lead to any answers but, right now, he didn’t care. With the afternoon he’d had, he needed it. Tony sat back; pressing the glass to his head to stave off the mounting tension headache, ice cubes clinking against the glass as he did.
The familiar pad of two sets of feet came, one with an accompanying whirr. A strange thought came to him that Rhodey would never be able to sneak up on anyone again and he added it to his self-flagellation list for later. A soft weight moved the couch cushion next to him; a hand looping around his arm.
“How did it go with the Police?” Pepper asked gently.
Tony sat up and dragged his heavy eyes open. Rhodey sat on the coffee table with a serious expression and Pepper’s eyebrows were equally pulled together.
“Oh, it was fucking great. After he outlined the fourth episode, rattling it off like a goddamn shopping list, I was the one who had to ask them to stop. Ask if that wasn’t enough to put that prick away — without him having to keep reliving the whole thing.” He took another swig of scotch and hoped the burn would engulf his anger.
Listening to his son recount what Mr Andersson had done to him had been excruciating, made even more so by the blunt, emotionless way the kid had delivered it. Tony had been at the receiving end of his own father’s anger – no more than a few slaps when Howard was drunk – and he still remembered it vividly all these years later. He wasn’t sure if he had to tell of them now, whether he could have done it with the stoic calm Peter had just done.
Pepper’s hand rubbed his arm, but it didn’t soothe.
“We got a nice look at his hovel this morning too. The kid was living in a literal pigeon coop.”
“A what now?” Rhodey asked, his frown deepening further.
Tony sighed. “FRIDAY, show them.”
A projection came up, the feed from his glasses from the rooftop sped up.
Tony stopped the video before they saw him putting his foot in his mouth. He sat forward draining the glass of amber liquid before he put it on the coffee table.
“Jesus,” Rhodey muttered before adding, “mind you, he’s pretty resourceful.”
Tony rubbed his face with both hands. “Yeah, don’t remind me that my kid has been living his life literally dumpster diving, or I really will lose my shit. I mean talk about worlds apart.”
Luca should have been having the best for his whole life. Not fending off abusive assholes, trash diving for scraps, or using duct tape as an acceptable shoe material.
“Come on Tones, don’t focus on that, focus on the commonalities,” Rhodey said. “He likes science and, who cares where he got the stuff from, he likes to build tech. That’s not all that common. This is all stuff that you two can connect on.”
Tony let Rhodey’s words seep in before he flicked away the images. “He successfully wired himself into the mains electric without killing himself, so there’s that.”
Rhodey sat back with a show of arms as if to say ‘see?’
“Where is Luca now?” Pepper asked.
Peter had retreated— wouldn’t he have wanted to be alone too after all that?—but only after giving Officer Morales a long (jealousy-inducing) hug.
“He said he wanted to shower. And it’s Peter, Pep, we have to call him Peter,” Tony said with a sigh.
Pepper’s eyes flashed for a moment. “That’s a name someone who stole him forced him to answer to. That’s not the name you gave him, Tony.”
What did they tell him? Did they say that Tony had just given him away? Didn’t want him anymore. He must have been so frightened and confused. The thought churned the scotch in his stomach.
“I know it doesn’t seem fair, Pep, but we have to do what is best for the kid right now,” Rhodey intervened. “Calling him the name he’s been using for the last twelve years makes sense. I know you know that.”
All the fight left Pepper as quickly as it had risen. “Yeah, you’re right. I just…” She sat back on the couch; leaning her weight against Tony as he put an arm around her. He closed his eyes for a long second in the company of the two people he trusted most in the world.
Rhodey’s warm hand encompassed his knee after what he thought was only a minute. “Why don’t you lie down? I’ll listen out for Peter.”
“No, I’m fine. I’ll sleep tonight. I’d rather be awake.” Tony opened his eyes as he sat forward and picked up his empty glass. “Drink?”
Rhodey didn’t drop eye contact and took the glass from his hand. “No.”
Tony let out a breath. Clear head still needed; Rhodes was right.
“OK. I better go and talk to Nat and Happy and see how far they’ve gotten with the investigation.”
Tony started to move but Rhodey’s hand squeezed harder on his knee.
“That’s in hand. I asked them to update me when there was something worth updating you with. Right now, you just need to rest for a few minutes and then have dinner with your son. Nothing else that you need to do.”
Tony fought with that part of himself that wanted to know right now. He had twelve years of stored vengeance ready. The gun was cocked, he just needed to know which direction to point it. But Rhodey was right, he had to rein that in right now and keep himself focussed just on Peter.
Tony let himself fall back into the chair, resting his head back on Pepper’s again as her fingers intertwined with his.
Peter
Peter felt drained; the talking, the photos, the dread-filled looks from Mr Stark. On top of their morning excursion, it was more than enough for one day. This whole weekend was more than enough for a lifetime, honestly. It had been hard laying it all out – it had been a handful of times and of course, he’d healed quickly — but remembering it had been tough. Mr Andersson liked to litter any smacks with nasty comments, and they had stuck in his mind a lot longer than any of the bruises had. Peter had to watch not only Mr Stark, but Jeff, wince through his account, even though he kept himself emotionally pinned down during it. He had gotten good at enduring.
He lay flat on his back now, staring up at the ceiling. He hadn’t lied to Mr Stark – he’d had a quick shower – he wasn’t sure why having people just looking at his body and taking photos made him feel like he needed to wash again, but it did. Now he had some of his own stuff, he’d changed into his softest pyjama pants even though it wasn’t late. He’d topped it with the MIT hoodie as it was ridiculously warm and comfortable, and he liked being engulfed by it.
His phone beeped but he didn’t move. It would be Ned chasing him, again. Peter hadn’t had the energy or words to message him an explanation yesterday so he’d just sent a one-line text of “I’m still fine” to him this morning. He’d had a dozen messages since then.
The phone made a different sound this time and he picked it up to see it was Ned attempting a video call. He sighed and flicked it away.
A text immediately sprung up on the phone that was still in his hand.
Queen MJ: Parker, you can ghost Ned all you want but do it to me at your peril. Pick up the call .
The video call sounded again, and he buried his head in the soft duvet, hiding the bruised part of his face before he held the phone away from him and pressed the green button.
There was a joint ‘hey’ from his two friends as they came through on the call. Both of them were sitting on MJ’s bed; Ned in his trademark loud shirt and MJ a contrast in black and grey layers.
“I told you he was alive.” MJ’s smirk tweaked the tendril of dark hair that was hanging against her lip.
“Dude!” Ned’s hands threw up in the air. “Where have you been?! Why haven’t you answered? You’re missing Sunday Study Sesh – MJ got non-vegan snacks for once.”
“I…”
MJ got in before him. “Ned said you moved to a new place?”
“Well, yeah, I…”
“They found out you weren’t staying at Mr Andersson’s, huh?” Ned interrupted. “Where is the new place? It’s not too far from school, right? You can still come, yeah?” There was panic plastered on his face.
“I…”
“If they say you can’t, we’ll stage like a sit-in or something, right MJ?”
“That won’t be…”
“We totally can, dude…”
“Let him speak Ned…but yes we could canvas the stu—”
Peter sat up. “—Guys!”
They both stopped at his shout; two sets of eyes peering at him. MJ leaned closer to the screen, an eyebrow raising slowly.
“Dude, your face...” Ned breathed. He never seemed to get used to injuries Peter got on patrol, or elsewhere: the same level of concern every time.
Peter half-covered it by putting his hand up and into his hair before realising it was pointless and letting his hand drop to fist the comforter instead.
“Arachnid related?” MJ asked, her eyes coolly assessing him.
“Not exactly,” Peter squeaked out.
Ned’s eyebrows pulled together in a deep frown and MJ sat back against the headboard and crossed her arms.
“Why did you go back there, Peter?” Ned almost whispered, his eyes beginning to look moist. “Why didn’t you just stay at the nook?”
MJ stayed quiet; she’d never been completely on board about the whole ‘not-telling-on-Mr-Andersson-and-living-on-top-of-a-building’ thing, though she said she understood his motivations.
“I didn’t really get a choice. The Police brought me back there after I kinda got picked up by them on Friday night.”
Ned’s eyes bugged out. “You got arrested?”
“Kind of, but then, not. And then, yeah, they brought me back to Mr Andersson’s and he…” Peter drew a hand from his head down. “But look, that is not even the biggest thing that happened…”
“Bigger than getting arrested and beaten up?”
“He was bitten by a radioactive Spider; his whole existence is larger than life,” MJ chipped in.
“Guys!” Peter barked again; this time they stopped and looked at him differently. It wasn’t like him to snap at them. “Look, what happened…I need to get it out but I’m not sure I can if you keep talking over me.”
“Ok, we’re sorry, Parker. Go on,” MJ said solemnly.
Peter took a shaky breath. “So, after Mr Andersson…did whatever…I left and went to the nook. Then in the morning, he rang saying I better come back as Child Services had turned up, so I did, but when I was outside, some guy with an FBI jacket came out. I freaked and ran, some guy ran after me, but I managed to hide. Officer Morales showed up when I was visiting May and took me to the station. When I got there, they said that my fingerprints had been a hit for a missing child.”
“What? It wasn’t Spider-man related?” Ned asked. “It could’ve been a trap to catch Spider-man.”
Peter shook his head; actually pleased by the interruption this time, as it meant he could catch his breath and try to slow his heart rate a little.
“Christ, Ned, forget about Spider-man for one minute would you, this is serious.” MJ scowled in his direction, but Ned didn’t look cowed for once. Her look softened as she turned back to Peter. “A missing child?”
Peter fiddled with his sleeves. “Um, yeah, they said my fingerprints matched and they had photos of this weird birthmark of mine, and then photos that looked so much like me when I was younger. And then, well, then the DNA test confirmed it.”
There was a silence for a second as they seemed to take this in. Well MJ did, leaning forward now on her knees with her chin on her fingers in thought. Ned was just shaking his head.
“So, your parents…” MJ ventured.
“Are not my parents, no,” Peter confirmed.
“You were adopted then?” Ned looked thoroughly confused.
“No, at least not officially; there is a lot still unknown. There aren’t exactly any Parkers to ask...”
“And you said a ‘missing’ child.” MJ’s mind was working more sharply. “So you were – kidnapped?”
Peter nodded slowly. “When he— I —was three.”
“What the fuck, Peter?” Ned fury-whispered.
Peter nodded and sat back against his own plush, suede headboard. “Yeah, it’s been...pretty unreal.”
MJ’s eyes narrowed again. “That bed seems a bit too fancy for a foster home. Wait, they didn’t...they put you with your birth parents? Right away?” Now she looked shocked.
Peter nodded gently.
“Shouldn’t they do it gradually, with like a shit ton of therapy along the way?”
A snort escaped him despite the tension in his throat. Therapy wouldn’t make this pill any easier to swallow.
“So yeah, Child Services said that was the process but my, um, birth father wasn’t very trusting of them after…” Peter gestured to himself again.
“Yeah, but why would they just go along with that?”
“He’s kind of high profile.”
That seemed to jolt Ned out of his shock-induced silence.
“Your Dad is famous?”
Peter winced. “You could say that…”
“Is it someone we would’ve heard of?” Ned pushed and Peter nodded slowly. “Well, who is it?”
He looked from friend to friend, and he realised at that moment, that by telling them, by voicing it for the first time to the people in his life, that it was going to be real. No more thinking that he was dreaming, no more ignoring reality. As much as he wanted to bury his head in the sand, that wasn’t going to work.
He lifted his chin, flicking his eyes to each of theirs. “It’s Tony Stark.”
There was a beat of silence. Then an eruption of laughter from Ned. Ned’s face was full of his smile as he gasped for breath.
“That’s a good one…ha ha…oh, Peter.” Tears started streaming down Ned’s face but MJ eyed Peter cautiously before she elbowed Ned hard, causing him to sputter.
“Ow, MJ!”
“You’re not joking, are you?” MJ leaned closer to the screen now, her brown eyes searching his.
He shook his head.
Ned made a choking sound before he drew in a wet breath before choking again. Peter’s eyes widened as Ned suddenly seemed to genuinely struggle to breathe.
“MJ!”
She turned and forced Ned’s head between his legs.
“Breathe, dummy.”
“I-I’m ok,” Ned said after a minute, his eyes leaking tears as he got his breath back.
MJ’s eyes moved back and forth in thought. “Tony’s Stark’s son that was taken. I read about that. That’s you?”
Peter nodded.
“Jesus Christ, Peter!” Ned had regained the power of speech. “This is not happening right now. Iron Man is your Dad?”
“According to science...” Peter said, his voice strained.
“Wait, where are you right now?”
“In Avengers Tower?” Peter said it as a question and winced in anticipation of Ned’s response.
He was obviously out of juice as he didn’t fully freak out; just sat with his mouth hanging open.
“Can we see?” MJ asked.
Peter shuffled off the bed, turning slowly around the room with his face still in the picture but so they could see the room behind him.
“Holy shit, that’s almost as big as your old apartment,” MJ mumbled.
“I know, right?” Peter said, opening the door to the bathroom. “And check this out. The shower has a seat in it!”
“Woah,” Ned intoned as Peter moved the camera around before heading back into the bedroom and over to the window.
“This is the penthouse, super high up,” Peter hovered the phone by the window. “There is an even better view from the living room, which is insane by the way. There are massive windows so you can see out over the city.”
“Let’s see!” Ned said excitedly.
“I, uh, maybe another time. They are out there I think.”
“They being who exactly?”
“I think it’s just Mr Stark and Miss Potts at the moment.”
“Pepper Potts – you’ve met Pepper Potts? What is she like?” Now it was MJ’s turn to look starstruck.
“Um, yeah. I haven’t talked to her much yet, but she seems nice.”
Both MJ and Ned shook their heads a little in disbelief.
“And what about your…what about Tony Stark? What is he like?” MJ asked.
What was he like?
“He is…nice.”
“Nice.” MJ deadpanned back. “That’s all you’ve got to say about him?”
“Yeah, it’s just...how he looks at me, it’s weird.”
Before MJ could respond there was a sharp knock on the door.
“Peter, can I come in?”
“Just a second, Mr Stark,” Peter called out before turning back to his friends. “I have to go.”
“Mr Stark,” Ned repeated in wonder before sitting more upright. “Can we see him?”
“No! I’m not sure if I’m meant to be even telling anyone about it yet, or well…”
“Yeah, ignore him. We won’t tell anyone,” MJ said.
“But this is the coolest thing that has ever happened to me!” Ned exclaimed.
Peter frowned but MJ had his back, giving Ned a pinch on the arm.
“Ow! OK, of course I won’t tell anyone, Jesus. But you have to let me talk to you two about it or I will explode!” Ned said and Peter couldn’t help but smile.
“I better go.”
“Ok, we love you man,” Ned said; he was always so open with affection. MJ was less so, but she gave him a gentle smile.
“Love you too, bye,” Peter said, tapping off his phone and reaching for the door at the same time.
Mr Stark stood there looking just as tired and worn out as he had after the cops left.
“How’s it going?” There was a strong smell of alcohol as he spoke which made Peter’s stomach clench; his body instinctively taking a half step back. It was barely even dark. As much as he didn’t want to associate Mr Stark with Mr Andersson, there were a lot of tabloid stories about his lifestyle; maybe there was no smoke without fire.
“Yeah, good, all cleaned up and you know…dry now.”
Wow, that might be the most awkward statement he had ever made, but Mr Stark didn’t seem to notice or comment.
“We were getting a bit peckish out here and were going to order in. Thai or Italian?”
Thai reminded him too much of May. Ben was never a fan, so they’d get it whenever he was on last shift. A lump was dangerously close to rising in his throat.
“Italian please.”
“What’s your order?”
“Arrabbiata if they have it? But anything is fine.”
“Done,” Mr Stark said. “FRI, add it to mine, Rhodey and Pep’s usual order but add an extra garlic bread in there too, then send it off.”
“Yes Boss,” the voice purred from above.
“The, uh, others aren’t eating with us?”
Mr Stark looked at him. “We thought a quieter night without the big crowd might be better.” The ‘after today’ was left unsaid.
Peter looked at his socked feet. That made sense. But it still filled him with dread. At least in the bigger group, he felt like he could hide a little.
Mr Stark’s face flashed with uncertainty. “Of course, I’m sure the others would join - Avengers love free food as much as the next. Whatever makes you happy.”
Peter pushed his hands into his pockets; Mr Stark was being truthful about wanting to make him happy, that much was obvious. He didn’t want it to seem like he didn’t want to spend time with Mr Stark. Which, whilst true, seemed a cruel thing to show a man who spent twelve years thinking he was dead.
Previously it would’ve been his dream come true to spend time with the Tony Stark. And it wasn’t like he hated the guy now or anything, just-
“Look, if you’re worried that I’m going to corner you and give you the fifth degree, or 20 questions about your life or whatever, I can promise not to do that. At least not today,” Mr Stark gave him a soft smile. “I know today, this weekend, has been…full on. How about we just eat and watch a movie and keep it chill? Do kids say that these days? I don’t know.” Mr Stark’s eyebrows briefly met in the middle.
Tension eased in his chest. That was exactly what he’d been afraid of. He didn’t have the energy for any more emotionally charged conversations.
His lips curled into a soft smile.
“That sounds good. What movies do you have?”
Tony
This was possibly the best idea he had ever had in his life, and he had come up with a few knockouts in his time. Sitting watching a movie with his son. Ok, scrap that, really it was watching his kid, watch a movie. The process essentially allowing him to watch Peter without being too obvious about it.
Peter hadn’t sat next to him but had curled up in the armchair. His initial disappointment quickly vanished. This was actually better as it gave him the chance to fully take him in; the way his eyes crinkled when a funny moment came on, the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed, the small smudge of tomato sauce that it took his tongue three tries to rein in. His memory was storing these on it’s long-term hard drive (as, of course, was FRIDAY). He tried to simultaneously quiet the little voice in the back of his head chiming in with ‘ it’s not fair, you should already know all this’. Focussing on what he had right now was the most important thing.
He caught Pepper and Rhodes watching the kid almost as much as he was, and he worried that he was being as unsubtle about it as they were. If Peter noticed, then he didn’t show it. They’d decided to eat while they watched and the kid just consistently ploughed through the food and most of the garlic bread throughout the course of the movie. He ate it slowly, but he ate a lot. He was a teenager, after all, Tony would have to get used to seeing him consume large amounts of food. A flush of warmth went through him. Yep, he was going to get to see his son grow into a man. Before his throat could tighten too much with the thought, the credits of the movie began to roll.
Peter’s eyes darted from the screen to him.
“Enjoy that?” The words slipped out before he could stop them. What if the kid wanted to dissect it? He hadn’t been paying anywhere near enough attention to the screen.
“Yeah, but, I, uh, think I might have been the only one.” Peter’s eyes flicked to the couch and Tony turned to see that both Rhodey and Pepper were sprawled out, fast asleep.
Tony suppressed a chuckle. “FRIDAY, make sure to take a snap of that and send it to their albums.”
“Yes, Boss.”
Peter smiled wider at that. “You keep albums of them?”
“Oh yes, purely for blackmail purposes.” Tony winked and Peter’s smile grew wider again.
“Do they keep one of you?” Peter asked, his eyebrow slightly raised.
Tony paused at that; tilting his head. “FRI?”
“I am not at liberty to divulge that information, Boss.”
Tony looked upwards towards the voice with a frown before looking back at Peter whose smile now showed his teeth. There it was again, a pang in his heart.
Peter let out a yawn of his own, covering it with his hand quickly. “I think I might go to bed too, if that’s ok Mr Stark?”
“Of course, you don’t need to ask permission, buddy.”
Peter stood then and Tony felt the urge to walk with him.
“Are you going to bed too?” Peter asked as they got to his bedroom door.
Sleep wouldn't come for him just yet. “I’ve got some work to do in the lab first.”
Peter’s hand grabbed at the back tufts of his hair, pulling gently.
“You, uh, you don’t have to sit outside here,” Peter didn’t make eye contact but gestured to the spot he’d been in in the early hours of the morning. “I…I’m not going to run off. You don’t have to…stand guard or anything.”
Tony let out a breath. This kid. He didn’t want to explain to him the wrenching need in his gut to want to be near him—didn’t want to scare him off anymore with the emotions he felt for him when the kid so clearly, and understandably, did not reciprocate.
“I…” Tony faltered; bringing up Peter’s thwarted attempt to leave without telling anyone this morning didn’t seem wise. Looking at him now, it seemed probable that the kid hadn’t been lying to FRIDAY, he’d really just wanted to get some air and then would’ve come back.
The time it took for Tony to think all that was enough to spur the kid to offer something else.
“I could leave my door open or something if that would make you feel better?”
“Oh no, you don’t need to do that. Teenage boys need their privacy and all that.”
Peter’s head cocked to look at him. “And…is there…privacy?” The boy’s eyes flicked skyward, and Tony realised what he was asking him.
“Oh right, yes, of course. FRIDAY doesn’t record in the bedrooms or bathrooms – she does monitor vitals, but that’s it.”
A flood of relief flushed through the boy’s face. Of course, there were certain things teenagers wouldn’t want recorded. He tucked the smile back; if there were any girlfriends or, well, boyfriends over, maybe he’d have to make sure the door was left open. That was what parents of teens did, right? God, he was going to get to do all the cringe parent stuff and he couldn’t be happier.
“Right, well, goodnight, Mr Stark.”
Peter had moved, the door in his hand acting as a barrier to him. No hugs tonight then. It was ok, baby steps, baby steps.
“Good night, Peter.”