Peter knew he had messed up bad.
"None of this would've happened if you had just listened to me!" He laughed. "If you even cared, you'd actually be here." He spat.
"I did listen, kid. Who do you think called the FBI?" Tony said, stepping out of his suit.
Peter stepped back, eyes widening as he stuttered.
Tony stepped forward. "Do you know that I was the only one who believed in you? Everyone else said I was crazy to recruit a fourteen year old kid."
"I'm fifteen."
"No. This is where you zip it! Alright? The adult is talking."
Peter bit his tongue, looking down.
"What if somebody had died tonight? Different story right? 'Cause that's on you. And if you died, I feel like that's on me."
Afterwards, Tony had taken his suit and sent him home in embarrassing hello kitty pajamas. Peter suspected he did it to further embarrass him.
Peter tried to forget. He tried to be a normal teenager, he really did. He took a break from patrolling, seeing as his suit was gone now. He asked out the girl he liked, and was excited as the days grew closer and closer to homecoming.
Things didn't last when he found out his date's dad was the exact person he was trying to warn Tony of.
His body went cold as he met him at the door, watching him smile slyly at him. Peter had prayed that he wouldn't offer to drive them, but he never did get his way.
Toomes had figured him out on the drive to his school, eyeing him constantly and eyebrows furrowing.
He knew everything went downhill when he had told Liz to wait outside as he gave Peter the "talk".
He sat in that car with him for what felt like hours, which was only minutes. The radio was off, and all that was heard were Peter's loud intakes of breaths.
"I'll kill you dead."
Peter shuddered as he crept out the car, slowly meeting Toomes gaze as he watched him drive away. He remembered walking into the doors, and being met with loud music. People were smiling and laughing everywhere he looked.
He felt like he was in a daze as he walked towards Liz with a terrified expression on his face.
He saw her face contort from happiness to confusion as he fled.
He tried to escape the building. But Toomes was too fast and unpredictable.
Large mechanical wings crashed through each pillar, each one making a screeching noise as it collided to the floor, before Peter realized his plan. He could only meet his eyes, his green, glowing eyes, as he watched the building collapse onto him.
Peter screamed for an hour. One, impossibly long hour, before he had realized that no one was coming to his side.
It had grown silent, with water dripping above him and splattering into the puddle beneath him. Debris rained on him, his hair white. Rubble encased his body tightly. His mask lay in the water, staring right back at him.
Suddenly, Tony's words came barreling into his head.
"If you're nothing without this suit, then you shouldn't have it."
He felt capable now, determined. He blinked away his tears and sucked in a breath.
"C'mon Peter." He told himself, voice hoarse and raspy.
"C'mon, Spider-Man!"
He pushed his arms underneath him, pushing his back up against the rubble.
He screamed louder, encouraging himself as he lifted the seemingly impossible weight, getting onto his knees. His hands were bloody from cutting into the broken pieces, as he pushed and pushed, crying out.
He gathered all his strength and with one push, he lifted the rubble off of him, gasping in pain as he recollected himself.
He had no time to recover though, as he saw Toomes ready to fly off.
He ran after him before he could think.
And now, he watched as Happy appeared onto the scene, stressed and eyes flickering left and right. The last remains of fire were washed away with smoke, as police and firefighters rushed onto the scene.
Peter breathed in and out, laying his head against the roller coaster he was currently bleeding out on.
In the end, he did what he could.
As Toomes was handcuffed and shoved into a cop car, Peter mustered the last remaining strength to get up.
He pushed himself up against a pole, wincing and holding his body tightly. He stood up finally and webbed away with his left wrist, as he had run out of webbing in his right.
It was a struggle getting back home, but he made it.
He lifted his window carefully, trying not to put too much pressure on his limbs. He crawled in, immediately dropping to the floor.
He gritted his teeth, turning to his side.
He looked down, removing his hand from his leaking abdomen, blood gushing everywhere. His legs were cut and burned, rips at his clothes. His arms appeared mangled, as if they were almost ripped off.
Having a building crush you really does numbers, huh?
He didn't even want to look at his back, because it felt like it was on fire.
He figured he could rest for a bit, just lying there on the floor, right?
He was tired. Extremely tired.
May wouldn't be getting home until 1 in the morning, so he could just…lie there.
He felt his eyes closing, his battered body fading away from view as darkness entered his sight.
He later woke up to a door slamming, as bags were set onto the table.
Peter jolted up, regretting it as the pain of his wounds quickly reminded him of the events from just a few hours ago.
"Peter? Are you here?" May asked, starting towards Peter's room.
He cursed, getting up and limping to his door, closing it shut and locking it. He sighed, leaning his body against it and slowly falling onto the floor.
May tried opening the door, but the lock had stopped her.
"Peter? You asleep?"
"Yeah. Sorry, May."
"That's alright, Peter. I brought home some groceries after work so we're set for the week."
He nodded his head, forgetting she couldn't see him for a moment. "T-That's great, May. Thanks."
He heard her pause.
"Are you okay?"
"Yeah. Yeah. I'm fine." He swallowed, wincing at the dryness of his mouth. "Just tired."
"Go back to sleep, sweetheart. I'll see you in the morning. I love you." She said.
"I love you too."
-
The next morning arrived, much to Peter's surprise.
He had stayed awake the entire night, tossing and turning, trying to ignore the pain.
He had taken half a bottle of Advil, almost crying due to it not helping.
He truly thought he would die, but, he was still here apparently.
He crawled out of bed, debating on whether or not he should go to school.
No, he had a chemistry test. He couldn't miss that.
He prepared for the pain to get worse, as he stood up. He walked to his closet, limping.
He grabbed his clothes, limping to the bathroom. He heard May in the kitchen, hurrying to close the door.
He turned on the shower, turning the heat up as he stared at himself in the mirror.
Most of his small injuries had healed. The bruises and scratches on his face had faded away almost completely. If he kept his head down enough, no one would notice.
He took off his shirt, almost wanting to throw up. His entire body was covered in dried up blood, bruised, scratches and burns, a few stab wounds, possibly a few broken ribs, from the odd pain he felt when he breathed too hard.
He sighed, getting in the shower.
He ran out the door, quickly avoiding looking at May so she wouldn't see his face.
It really wasn't that bad. If no one looked at him closely, he'd be fine.
It's not like anyone does anyways, besides Ned and May.
He just had to conceal his limp, which was the hardest part.
He had changed his bandages for clean ones, double bandaging them so it wouldn't leak blood through his shirt in the middle of the school day.
He had worn a dark navy shirt just in case.
He soon walked into school, dreading the school day. He trudged through the halls, stepping on his left leg as if it didn't hurt each time he walked on it. He reached his locker, shakily grabbing his books and putting his backpack away. He shut it and turned, seeing Ned right there.
He jumped in surprise. "Geez, Ned."
"Sorry." He looked at him, eyes narrowing. "Are you okay, dude?"
"Yeah. I'm fine. Why?" He smiled awkwardly.
"Oh, I don't know. Yesterday? The Vulture?" He whispered.
"Oh. Yeah, that." He chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck.
"Dude. You have to tell me what went down. You know I got detention for two weeks 'cause I covered for you? You won't believe what I said to Ms. Warren when she walked in on me." He rambled, walking down the hallway to their next class.
Peter nodded his head along, not really hearing what he was saying.
It wasn't until they sat down in their seats before class started, did Ned notice something was wrong.
"Peter?"
Peter clutched his stomach, humming in response.
"Did you hear what I said?"
"Uh-huh. Yeah." He muttered.
"What did I say?"
People started piling in, the bell ringing.
"You said…" he licked his lips, deep in thought. "Something about Star Wars?"
Ned stayed silent, staring at Peter. Peter turned his head away slightly, hoping he didn't see the small injuries on his face.
He reached into his backpack, trying to look like he was looking for something, when really he was trying to avoid his gaze.
"Is that a bruise on your face?"
He stilled. He turned to him, seeing the concern stretched across his face.
"Uhh, yeah. Just a small bruise." He lied.
Their teacher started talking, drawing on the board.
"Dude. I saw the damage on TV. It looked bad. The plane crashed!" He whisper-shouted. "I didn't wanna push, but, are you really okay?"
A few people looked their way. He looked back, meeting eyes with Michelle.
Peter shushed him.
He could work with this. If Ned only knew about the plane, then he didn't have to know about the building.
He swallowed, thinking of his next words.
"He roughed me up a bit. I've got a few scratches and bruises here and there. But I'm fine. You know, enhanced healing." He whispered.
Ned didn't seem convinced, but he let it go for the time being.
Classes passed by, and Peter felt like he was going to faint.
During chemistry class, Peter had to get up to fill his vase with a chemical, and almost tripped walking over.
Michelle eyed him weirdly.
He quickly walked past her back to his seat.
Later, as class was about to end, he felt a hand tap his shoulder. He turned to find Michelle holding up e sketchbook with a drawing of Peter looking like he was about to throw up.
Even the thought of opening his mouth to speak was bad, so he just gave her a thumbs up, with a pained expression.
Her eyebrows furrowed together in suspicion before he turned forward.
Class ended and Peter all but booked it for the cafeteria.
He met up with Ned at their usual empty table, sides Michelle, who always sat alone at the end of the table, face buried in a book.
When he saw Ned, the boy smiled, about to speak before he hesitated.
"Dude. You don't look so good." He grimaced.
Peter sat down shakily. He looked down at his clammy hands, which were white and sweaty.
The pain felt unbearable.
He had two periods left, he could make it.
"I'm fine." He smiled, swallowing the vomit that almost went up.
"No, you're not. Stop lying, Peter. It's obvious you're in pain. How badly were you injured last night?" He questioned Peter, pushing away his tray, leaning forward.
Peter leaned back, sweating. "Wow, is it hot in here? I'm hot. Are you hot? You know what? I'm just gonna go cool off—" He stood up from his seat, about to walk away, but was grabbed by Ned, who looked really worried now.
"Peter, talk to me. I'm your best friend. Plus, Guy in the chair. Just tell me."
Peter slowly sat down.
"I'll tell you, but you promise not to freak out?"
"Can't promise that. Go on."
He sighed. "After I ended the call with you, I followed him to the warehouse, where he was just standing there. I thought I had him. But then he…" He gulped, remembering the feeling of pure panic and being crushed under tons of weight.
"What? Then he what?"
"He tricked me, and destroyed the pillars holding up the warehouse. And it collapsed on me." He said.
He could have sworn he saw someone shift from the corner of his eye, but maybe he was starting to hallucinate from blood loss.
Ned opened and closed his mouth, completely shocked.
Peter continued. "I managed to lift it somehow, and followed him. He got on the plane and hijacked it, stealing all of the avengers equipment. We fought, and I crashed the plane on the beach."
"Everything was on fire. I thought I was going to…" He cleared his throat, deciding not to tell Ned what he had thought would be his death.
"His wings were about to explode, and I tried to stop him from leaving, but he didn't listen, and they exploded. I carried him out the fire and webbed him up, and left."
Ned laughed, holding his head in his hands. "And here you were, acting like you were completely fine—"
"It's really not that big of a deal, Ned. I'm fine—"
"Fine? You're holding yourself together, you have bruises on your face, probably all over your body too, and you're limping. Peter, call May. You have to go to the hospital. There's no way that what I'm seeing right now is all of your injuries."
"What? No. I'm not gonna bother May. She's at work."
"Do you really think you'll be able to stand sitting in a classroom for two hours, practically about to pass out?"
Peter hesitated.
"See? Look, let me call May." He reached for Peter's phone.
Peter slammed his hand down on his phone, clearing the loud noise. Everyone went silent.
He cleared his throat, looking down.
Eventually, everyone went back to talking to their friends.
"Don't call May." He warned.
-
The next two periods were hell. Ned was nagging Peter left and right.
Finally, the bell rang. Peter felt more than relieved when he thought about going home and taking a long nap. One he would never wake from.
Peter was brought back to hell when he remembered he had decathlon practice.
He gave a strained smile and applauded when Michelle was appointed the new team captain.
She had said that her friends called her MJ when Mr. Harrington called her Michelle.
Suddenly his phone pinged with a text from an unknown number.
Go to the bathroom.
Peter coughed slightly, getting up. "I, uh, I gotta go."
"Hey. Where you going?" MJ asked, narrowing her eyes.
Peter stuttered, pointing to the door nervously.
"What are you hiding, Peter?"
Peter's eyes widened, he glanced at Ned, who seemed frozen as well.
"I'm just kidding. I don't care. Bye." She snorted, turning towards the team.
Peter let out a relieved sigh, walking out.
Unbeknownst to Peter, MJ gazed at him as he left.
Peter made it to the restroom, somehow.
He thought he was going to keel over and pass out.
He turned the corner, entering. He stopped short, meeting Happy, who had a strange look on his face.
He almost looked…relieved?
He held his stomach tightly, feeling a wet spot suddenly.
"Hey, Happy. What, uh—? What are you doing here?"
"I really owe you one." He started.
Peter tilted his head, confused.
"I don't know what I would do without this job. I mean, before I met Tony—"
A toilet flusher.
Happy pressed his lips to a thin line.
A kid walked out, eyeing Happy and Peter up and down as he walked to the sink to wash his hands.
Happy stared at the kid as he dryer them.
He then walked out, giving Peter a look. Peter just smiled awkwardly and clutched his stomach.
He turned to Happy.
"So, uh. How long you been here?"
"Long enough to be awkward. Boss wants to see you."
Peter gasped, pointing at the toilet.
"Is he here too?" He whispered.
"In the toilet? No, he's upstate." Happy replied, walking out.
"Upstate? You mean like "upstate", upstate?" He asked, getting excited.
"Yeah. Let's go."
Happy guided him to the car, where he opened the door for Peter. He sat down, shutting his eyes. Happy got in the driver's seat and started the car.
Peter looked in the rear view mirror, making sure Happy's eyes were on the road before he lifted his shirt up to see the damage.
Bile went through his throat, threatening to burst out.
The stabbed wounds looked worse than they did yesterday. There was blood leaking out the bandages, which Peter lifted up to reveal puss.
That definitely wasn't good.
"You alright back there, Peter?" Happy asked, noticing his pained expression.
He yelped, pulling his shirt back down.
"Y-Yeah. I'm good."
A few minutes later, they arrived.
"Take a look. It's pretty impressive, huh? They just finished remodeling the whole thing." Happy said, jerking his head to the compound.
Peter glanced at it, nodding his head. He hummed a quiet response, trying to breathe in and out.
"You sure you're okay, kid? Feeling carsick?"
"Yeah. Just carsick. I'm fine." He reassured him.
Happy didn't seem too convinced, but he left it at that.
He parked the car and they walked in. By one of the many, massive windows, a jet flew up, taking off.
Happy turned to Peter, with a smile on his face. "You don't see that everyday, huh?"
Peter just smiled back.
Suddenly, a familiar voice came from behind.
"Oh, there they are." Tony said, walking with his hands in his pockets, glasses on.
"How was the ride up?" He asked.
"Good." Happy replied.
"Gimme a minute with the kid."
"Seriously?"
"Yeah. I gotta talk to the kid."
"I'll be close behind."
"How about a loose follow. All right? Boundaries are good." Tony walked to Peter, smiling. He gave him a light jab in his shoulder. Peter winced, not expecting it.
"You alright there, kid?" He asked, wrapping his arm around his shoulder.
"Yup. Fine."
Tony nodded. They started walking.
"Sorry I took your suit"."
Peter turned to him.
"Actually, it turns out, it was the perfect sort of tough-love moment that you needed. Right? To urge you on, right? Wouldn't you think? Don't you think?" He said, sounding nervous.
"I guess…" Peter muttered, feeling a rise or anger suddenly.
"Let's just say it was."
They continued walking. Peter, limping, rather than walking.
All he could focus on was the pain in his leg, rather than the shitty apology Tony gave him.
Suddenly, his vision started getting blurry. He didn't know whether or not he was still walking.
He could hear Tony talking to him. He looked at him, eyes open, yet not being able to tell if the man was there or not.
He clutched onto Tony's suit, gaining a look from him.
"-kid?"
His eyes began to roll back into his eyelids. He felt his grasp loosen from the man's suit. Within a few seconds, he was falling.
Tony yelled something out, Happy running towards them. He felt someone catch his head.
The last he felt was someone rubbing their thumb along his cheek, cradling him close, before darkness enveloped him.
-
Beep.
Beep.
Beep.
Peter opened his eyes, blinking at the bright light overhead. He turned towards the beeping noise, finding a heart rate monitor. He turned to his right, feeling something poking into his arm. It was a bag full of liquid, supplying him with what he assumed was medicine, based on how funny he felt.
Suddenly the door opened, Peter's eyes trailed over to it slowly. A figure walked in, gently moving Peters leg over to the side, as they sat down.
At that action, Peter realized his leg didn't hurt so much anymore. His body was sore, yes, but he felt better. The only thing he felt that still hurt slightly was his abdomen, but that was no surprise.
He reached his hand down to his stomach, but was stopped by a rough calloused hand.
He blinked, looking at the person staring at him with concern in their eyes.
His eyes focused, and he noticed it was Tony.
"—Pete? You with me?"
He licked his lips before responding. He croaked something out, immediately shutting his mouth. His cheeks blossomed with red as he felt embarrassment flooding in.
Tony laughed, reaching to the bedside table and grabbing a cup of water. He handed it to Peter.
Peter gratefully took it, gulping it down.
"You've been out for a couple days, that's probably why your throat feels so scratchy." He explained.
Peter choked, covering his mouth.
"A couple days?"
Tony nodded, looking everywhere else but at Peter.
"Your aunt has been here watching over you. Hasn't slept a wink. I managed to convince her to rest. She left to go grab a cup of coffee."
Peter nodded at that information.
"Does she know?"
"Yeah. She knows."
Peter pursed his lips, looking away from Tony.
"Why didn't you tell anyone anything?"
Peter opened his mouth, unsure of what to say.
"Did you just think your healing factor would handle your injuries?" He said, sounding angry now.
"No, I—"
"This isn't a game Peter. Your life was on the line. You know how close you were to—" He shuddered, rubbing a hand down his face.
Peter noticed the bags under his eyes. His gaze softened.
He felt a panic of guilt stab him in the heart.
"I'm responsible for you, kid. You can't just go around pretending you're fine. Your aunt almost killed me when she found out!" He shouted.
"Right. Sorry for being an inconvenience to you, Mr. Stark." He spat, turning his head towards the window.
He tightened his grip around the sheets, sure he was going to rip it.
"An inconvenience? What the hell are you talking about, kid?"
"Nothing. I'm fine now, so you can go back to ignoring me for months. I won't mind." He snarled.
Tony seemed at a loss for words. Peter could see him stressing from the corner of his eyes.
Silence stretched between them.
Tony stood up from the bed.
Peter's face twitched to disappointment for a second.
He was sure he was going to leave again.
But he didn't hear any footsteps walking away. He turned, finding Tony still standing there, now finally looking Peter in the eyes.
Peter was confused, trying to keep his mask held up.
"I didn't mean to ignore you like that. I practically threw you to the side. I shouldn't have done that. I was so blinded by rage at the accords, the Avengers—" He bit his tongue. "That's no excuse though. I know I should've mentored you, should've kept you at arms length, maybe I could've stopped you from catching that guy alone—"
"You couldn't have stopped me. I would've gone and done it anyways, with or without the suit. I didn't need your help, and you certainly didn't need mine." He said, giving him a stone-cold glare.
"Kid. I had to take it from you." Tony said. "You needed to learn a lesson—"
"A lesson for what? To show me that I needed the suit in order to stay safe? That I shouldn't be Spider-Man without the suit? I almost died, Mr. Stark. You wanna know what I learned? I learned to never rely on people like you to save me. Because, in the end, I had to save myself." He snapped, he was looking at the man through his eyebrows now.
"You can keep your stupid suit. I don't want it."
"Peter, listen to me—"
"Listen to you? What have I been trying to get you to do this entire time? Every time something happened, I went to you and Happy. I tried warning you, and you didn't listen. Calling the FBI? What could they do against alien tech weapons? Why do you think I avoided your call before the ferry? I knew you wouldn't do anything. It's "below your pay-grade" after all."
Tony looked so hurt by his words, but Peter found himself unable to care.
He felt tears beginning to rise. He turned away, not wanting the man to see.
"J-Just go." He whispered.
Tony stepped back, a frown on his face. Suddenly May stepped in, seeing the tense atmosphere, immediately glaring at Tony.
He stepped out, head hung low.
May rushed to Peter, bringing him in for a hug. He only let his mask drop once he was in her arms, crying.
-
The next day, Peter was cleared to go back to school. He spent yesterday avoiding Tony as much as he could, despite being treated in the med bay, which was owned by him.
He would catch his gaze sometimes while walking the halls. Tony would begin walking towards him, but Peter would run away immediately, leaving the man to stare after him.
Now, he waved goodbye to May, who looked at him with a sorrowful look. He felt his stomach churn.
He met with Ned at his locker, who threw himself at him, hugging him tightly.
Ned pulled away. "Dude!"
"Dude." Peter smirked.
"Dude! What happened? You've been gone since Friday. It's Tuesday now." He stopped. "Did you go on some top secret mission?"
Peter snorted, shaking his head.
"No. No top secret mission. In fact, I think I'm far from that now." He said.
"What? What do you mean? Tell me all about it."
The bell rang. They started heading to their first period together as Peter began explaining what happened.
They walked in, Peter's teacher smiling at his appearance.
A few whispers went around as he sat down. He looked around, confused. He met eyes with MJ, who had a neutral expression, but she seemed to be staring at him as well.
"W-What is it, MJ?"
She stifled a bit at the name. "Everyone thought you were dead."
"What?"
"Flash went around telling everyone that you died in some tragic accident. I didn't believe it, though." She explained. "I was a bit…curious, as to what happened to you. You didn't look too good on Thursday. What happened?"
Peter blushed, surprised she actually seemed to care.
"I, um. I had a stomach bug."
She raised her eyebrows, leaning back in her seat, seeming satisfied with his answer. She had a small smirk on her face.
He turned back in his chair, confused.
The teacher started the lesson.
During lunch, Peter and Ned went to the library so he could explain what happened while he was gone without so many eyes everywhere.
"After I passed out, I woke up in the med bay."
"The med bay? Like, the "med bay"? The one in Stark Tower?" Ned asked, eyes sparkling.
"No. The one at the compound."
"Oh my god. You got to see the med bay at the compound? That's literally so cool."
"Yeah, even cooler when I was laying in bed with wounds all over my body." He joked.
Ned's excited expression dropped. Peter grimaced.
"Uh, sorry. No, yeah. It was really cool. I got to see a jet take off." He quickly said, trying to change the subject.
"I knew you were hurt. Why'd you try to hide it?" Ned whispered.
Peter swallowed. "I-I didn't want to bother anyone."
"Bother—" Ned sputtered. "Geez, Peter. If you're hurt, just say so. You're not bothering anybody." He said, smiling softly.
Peter nodded, looking down.
"What kind of injuries did you have?" He asked.
"Oh, you know. All sorts. I had a broken leg, dislocated shoulder, multiple 1st and 2nd degree burns, multiple lacerations and contusions, a concussion, a few stab wounds here and there in my abdomen…" He pondered. "It's hard to keep track of all of them. But I think that's the majority of it."
"H-How are you even alive?"
He shrugged. "Enhanced healing."
Ned's eyes widened at something behind Peter. He pointed. Peter's eyes followed his fingers, till his face was mere inches away from MJ's. She seemed completely shocked.
Peter blushed, jumping back in surprise.
"Holy—MJ what are you doing here?" He stuttered, completely taken aback.
She stared at him, still shocked. "I knew it." She muttered under her breath.
"Knew what?" His face dropped. "Don't tell me you just heard everything I said."
"I may have."
Peter laid down against the floor, covering his face with his hands.
"Oh god. She knows. Jesus, First Ned, then May, now MJ? What am I gonna do? What if she goes around telling people? No, she wouldn't do that. I trust her. Sorta. I don't know anymore." He mumbled.
MJ turned to Ned.
"So, he's Spider-Man?"
"Shhhh! Keep it down. And yeah, he is. Pretty cool, huh? I'm best friends with Spider-Man!"
"Ned!"
"What? She already knows." He defended.
"Don't worry. Your secrets safe with me, Parker." She smiled smugly.
He sat up, staring at her.
"Why were you even spying on us in the first place?" He questioned, eyes narrowing.
MJ looked surprised at the question, like she didn't expect it. She stuttered, her cheeks growing red.
"No reason. I just overheard." She said, acting cool.
Peter leaned closer. "Oh c'mon. You had to have been watching for a while." He teased, smiling.
Ned looked between the two, eyes growing wide.
"Oh shit!" He gasped, covering his mouth as he began giggling.
MJ whipped her head towards Ned, blushing profusely. She whacked him a few times, whispering.
Peter tilted his head, confused. MJ looked away, grabbing her bag as she stood up.
She coughed. "The bells about to ring. I'll see you two later."
"Wait!" Peter called out, but she was already walking away, rather fast, actually.
Ned's giggling caught up to Peter. He looked down, finding him rolling around on the floor, laughing.
"What? Whats so funny?" He asked.
"Nothing— Nothing at all."
-
The next two classes came and went.
Peter kept asking Ned what was so funny, but he never did get an answer. Ned tried opening his mouth a couple times, but stopped when he saw MJ glaring daggers at him.
The bell rang, as school came to an end.
Peter didn't have decathlon today, luckily, so he could patrol straight after.
He frowned at the thought of not having his suit anymore, not having Karen to talk to.
But he made his choice. He didn't want anything to do with Tony from now on.
He saw MJ walking to the exit. He caught up to her, Ned tagging along.
"MJ. Wait."
She turned, nodding her head.
"You promise you won't—"
"I promise I won't tell." She interrupted. "You know, I'm very observant, Parker."
"Yeah. You are." He smiled warmly at her.
They walked down the steps, and found people crowding around.
They pushed through to the side, wondering what everyone was gawking at.
Peter figured it wasn't anything important, and began walking.
Suddenly, a voice shouted above everyone else.
"Peter!"
Peter whirled his head back, finding Tony, standing by his car.
He startled, stepping back.
He felt someone nudge him forward. It was MJ. She smirked.
He felt his cheeks warm.
Tony walked over to him. His eyes stayed on Peters. He passed every kid who tried talking to him. His eye contact never wavered. The crowd parted, now looking at Peter.
He looked down at his shoes, not wanting to meet the man's eyes.
"Hey, Pete. How was school?"
"What are you doing here?" He asked, skipping to the question.
"Wow. No, "Hey, Mr. Stark!"? You hurt my feelings, kid." He joked.
He reached down to ruffle Peter's hair.
Peter winced, backing away from his hand.
Tony looked hurt, dropping his hand.
"Why don't we go talk in the car, yeah?" He gestured to the fancy car.
Peter looked at the car, then back at Tony.
"N-No thanks. I'm good."
"You're "good"? How are you good?"
"I think I'll just walk home." He said, turning away from the man, sprint walking. A hand grabbed his arm, pulling him back.
"None of that. C'mon. Give me a chance. I just want to talk to you." He pleaded.
Everyone began whispering around them, questioning the relationship between the two.
Peter felt embarrassed, quickly walking to the car and getting in the passenger seat. Tony followed, getting in as well. He drove off, ignoring the kids who ran after the car.
An uncomfortable silence passed before Tony spoke up.
"When I first reached out to you, I'll admit, I didn't think you were capable of doing more. I thought you were just a random kid gifted with powers, pushing yourself out onto the streets to fight battles that weren't yours. It's why I told you to stay low and keep your distance when you fought the avengers. I was worried. I didn't want aunt hottie getting her nephew back and finding out he got hurt on the supposed "internship"." He started.
Peter rolled his eyes. Of course. He only cared if May found out.
"I also didn't want to see you get hurt. I didn't want to have your blood on my hands."
Peter turned to him, mouth agape.
Tony's eyes remained on the road, his fists tight against the wheel.
"After Germany, I pushed you away. I thought if I ignored you, you wouldn't want to go on missions anymore. But, obviously, that didn't work. And when you called Happy and told him about that bank robbery, I dismissed it then too. When you fell into that lake, my heart almost flew out of my chest. I was across the world, but thankfully, my suit saved you. You were expecting me to be there, and I wasn't. You told me about those weapons, and I dismissed it again."
"When I called you on that ferry, it was to congratulate you back in DC. I was proud of you, and I wanted to express that. But when you declined my call, I figured something was wrong, and then I found the ferry torn in half. I was angry, and I took it out on you. I regret taking your suit. I really do, Peter. You didn't deserve that. We all make mistakes, and that was only your first." He said, looking at Pete.
He looked sorry.
"I was so blinded by my disappointment towards you, I didn't think about the consequences of taking the one thing that would keep you safe."
"Then, come to find out, my plane crashed. And what did I find? The man you had tried to warn me about the entire time, webbed up to a crate, with a small note, apologizing for crashing my plane."
Peter stayed silent, listening the entire time.
"It almost made me laugh. A tiny little note, with handwriting that looked like it was written by a child, surrounded by burning flames." He chuckled quietly.
"I doubt you guys only fought on the plane. There must've been something else to it too, I assume, based on your injuries." He said, looking at Peter intently.
Peter looked at him, hesitating to tell the truth.
He searched through Tony's eyes for anger, and found none.
He sucked in a breath. "Before the plane crashed, I found him in a warehouse." He muttered quietly.
Tony nodded, beckoning him to go on.
"We talked. I thought I had him. But I didn't. He was one step ahead of me." He looked down at his hands, fidgeting.
"Before I knew it, the building collapsed on me."
It was like a weight lifted off his chest when he finally told him what happened. Quite literally.
Tony pulled over, stopping the car.
He heard him breathing in and out, trying to calm himself.
He didn't know if that was a good thing or not.
Finally, Tony turned his body to Peter, who was starting to shake in his seat.
"He dropped a building on you?"
"Y-Yeah."
"That fucking bastard. When I get my hands on him—"
"Mr. Stark."
"—I'm going to rip him apart. How could he do that? Did he know how old you are? You're just a kid. I can't believe that piece of shit would do such a thing—"
"Tony."
Upon hearing his name, Tony stopped, relaxing his shoulders.
"If it wasn't for me taking your suit, that fight could've been prevented. I could've come to you before that building collapsed. It's all my fault. You almost died. I could've killed you." He shuddered, running a hand down his face.
"I know this won't make up for anything, but I just wanna say that I'm so sorry. For everything, Peter. You didn't deserve any of that."
Peter just stared at him, body completely still.
Tony could've sworn he became a statue, until a tear slipped out of his eye.
"Pete?"
More tears escaped. Peter began blinking rapidly, trying to dry them.
He started hiccuping. His hands stopped flailing about, now covering his eyes as he cried. His body shook. Tony reached his hand out, but pulled back, afraid he was going to hurt him more than he already has.
"You okay, kid? I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you cry. If you'd like, I can take you home? Is that something you'd want?" He asked, feeling uncomfortable.
"No. I-I…" He hiccuped again. His eyes were red.
"I just want a hug." He whispered.
Tony was taken aback at the request. He stuttered, unsure.
"Sorry. I shouldn't have asked you that—"
He was surprised when he felt arms envelop him. He gasped, leaning into the hug.
Tony rubbed circles on his back, ruffling his hair gently.
Peter calmed down, his cries reduced to sniffles.
He pulled away, wiping at his puffy eyes.
"Thank you for the hug, and for the apology. It really means a lot to me." He smiled.
Tony smiled back.
"Give me a rating."
"7/10."
"Really? I thought I did pretty good." Tony whined.
Peter rolled his eyes playfully. "Could've been better."
Tony smirked, reaching into the backseat and grabbing a bag from the back seat. He dropped it into Peter's lap.
Peter looked at him, eyebrows raising in suspicion.
He opened it, and pulled out his suit.
He stared at the red and blue in his hands. He was speechless.
"How's that for better?"
Peter laughed. "Way better."