Chapter Text
“That’s it. You’re done.”
Tony huffed as he stepped out of his suit and into the tower penthouse, face bright red and gaze full of fire. Peter pulled his mask off of his head in response, curls bouncing and ears burning red.
”I didn’t do anything wrong.”
”You did everything wrong. You defied the one rule I set in place for you, the one thing I made you promise to never do.”
”Those aliens were going to kill you! Do you not understand that?!”
”I would rather them kill me than ever see you jump into the crossfire again, that’s for damn sure.”
“I couldn’t just sit there and watch you die. I can’t believe you’re mad at me for this.”
Tony stifled a heart attack and turned over his shoulder, gaze zeroing in on his kid’s seemingly innocent expression.
”You can’t believe I’m mad? You can’t believe that I would ever, in a million years, be livid that my kid would risk his life just to save mine? Dammit, Peter, that’s it. You’re done. You’re finished.”
Peter doubled back a bit in surprise, brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”
”You heard me, kid. Done. No more Spider-Man. That’s it.”
”W-what? You can’t just-“
”Oh, the hell I can’t. Give me the suit.”
Peter swallowed thickly, a distinct sense of deja vu returning with a vengeance in his throat. “No, Dad, please, I-I’m ready. I’ve proven myself more than enough times. I’m ready to-“
”Don’t you dare talk to me about whether you’re ready or not. You’re not now, and you weren’t then.”
Peter’s eyes flashed with hurt, his chin raised to create a fake sense of confidence. “I’ve always been ready. I’m a superhero, just like you.”
”No, Peter, you’re not!”
“...Don’t you remember what happened the last time you took my suit? That’s your problem; I learn from my mistakes, you never do.”
“That’s enough, Peter. Give me the damn suit. I won’t ask again.”
”Why? So-so that you can just keep me here all the time? Why won’t you just trust me?”
”Because I can’t lose you, okay?!”
Peter’s eyes went wide as Tony gripped his son by the shoulders, foreheads nearly touching as the strength of Tony’s hold had Peter barely dangling above the ground.
Tony’s breaths echoed throughout the penthouse walls accompanying the deafening silence. Peter stared ahead and into Tony’s eyes, completely unsure of what to do.
His gaze hardened. He squirmed out of Tony’s hold, stumbling back on his feet and stiffening his posture.
”Well, you did that just fine on your own.”
Tony’s mouth parted in surprise. Peter double tapped his chest and waited for the nanotechnology in his suit to compress back into one small unit before he was tossing it toward his father like a ball, dressed now in his street clothes.
“...Petey, hey, wait-“
“Here, keep your suit.”
With that, Peter turned on his heel, threw open the door of the penthouse, and let it slam behind him.
⎊
“Where is he now?”
”...Like I said, boss, Peter removed his tracking devices before he left the tower.”
Tony chewed on his bottom lip anxiously as he stared out of his window toward the city below.
Yeah...he was a dick.
There was only one other time in his life he had wanted to take a moment back so desperately and it was the first time Tony took his son’s suit that day after the ferry accident.
That horrible, unbearable sinking feeling in his chest when he got the call that Adrian Toomes had been apprehended, when he learned what Peter had gone through to make certain that Adrian Toomes would be apprehended...
Tony shook off a shiver in his spine. He hated thinking about it.
It was his fault.
It wasn’t, but it was. Peter would have been safer in the suit Tony made for him, but he would’ve gone after Toomes whether Tony took it or not.
And now, thinking about Peter walking around New York with no suit, wearing only a punny t-shirt, jeans, and converse, alone at night...
Tony jumped up from his office chair and paced around the penthouse, bringing a trembling hand to his forehead.
”Everything alright, sir?”
”I messed up,” he blurted out, shaking his head and swallowing down bile. “I...shouldn’t have told him any of that crap.”
”If I may, boss...Peter admires you quite a lot. I’m almost certain that nothing you could ever say would change that.”
Tony considered it for only a moment before he was huffing and wiping sweat from his brow.
”Still shouldn’t have said it.”
”...No. You shouldn’t have.”
Tony chewed on the inside of his cheek and grimaced as he drew blood, the thundering of his heart in his chest a temporary distraction.
Peter was a smart kid. He would come home, they would talk, and before he knew it the two of them would be on the couch watching a Star Wars flick in no time.
”Boss? There’s a situation on 71st street. Perhaps this could be an opportunity to clear your head.”
Tony blinked, frowning as he stared at a projection now hovering above his desk.
A man in ragged clothing was holding a person close to him in the street with a gun to their head, taunting the gathering crowd. He was backing up into a black SUV, tossing his hostage inside before the car was skidding out of the street obnoxiously.
A hostage. Great.
Tony’s lip quirked ever-so-slightly as he adjusted his sleeve and took a deep breath.
”Fine, FRI. A little below my pay grade, but fine. Get me a suit.”
⎊
Tony tracked the SUV to a rundown warehouse in Queens.
He landed quietly on the outside and heaved an exhausted sigh, his scanners picking up two heat signatures inside the structure.
“FRI, you’ll let me know when Pete is back at the tower, right?”
“Yes.”
Tony nodded before he was blasting the old doors off of their hinges and raising one missile-clad fist toward one specific, terrified culprit.
”Drop the weapon, wife beater.”
”I-I don’t-you’re-“
”Iron Man.” Tony flipped his face plate up. “You have a hostage. I need them back, please.”
”How did you get here so-so fast?” The man took quivering aim to Tony’s head, rapid heartbeat practically visible through his grease-stained shirt.
“I know everything, I can’t help it.”
”No, you...we hadn’t called you yet.”
Tony frowned. “Why would you call me?”
The man stuttered. Another man emerged from a back room, hostage in his hold. The hostage in question stumbled over their feet, bag tossed over their head and hands duct taped tightly together.
The second man went ghost-white upon catching eye of their visitor. “Dude, what the hell? We agreed not to call him yet.”
”It wasn’t me.”
”Alright, that’s enough.” Tony stepped forward, fist still aimed at the ready. “Hand over the-“
Tony paused. A wave of chills washed over his entire body when his gaze caught the hostage’s shirt.
It was white. There was a triangle on it, right below a punchline.
”Find X.”
Tony’s mouth went dry, his heart beating so fiercely in his throat that he found himself unable to swallow around it.
Before he could even muster a coherent sentence, the second man was raising his handgun to the hostage’s head and ripping the bag off, tossing it to the floor.
...No.
“...Peter?”
No, no, no, no, no.
Peter’s head lolled back tiredly, his mouth taped shut and his face littered with bruising and blood. He eventually made delayed eye contact with Tony, dark eyes locking on his dad’s as he suddenly fought his restraints and wriggled in the man’s hold.
”Nobody freakin’ move,” the armed one said, gun pressed hard against Peter’s temple. “Or I shoot him dead.”
He couldn’t breathe. Tony swore that if he opened his mouth his heart would leap right out.
Help me.
His son, his everything, was balancing on a tightrope between life and death, a gun that insulted his entire existence pressing deeper and deeper against his temple.
Tony held his breath, knowing logically he should be sizing up his opponents or conjuring up a plan but he couldn’t seem to take his heartbroken eyes off of his son’s pale, beaten face.
That’s when he saw it.
A large, crimson stain was growing on Peter’s thigh. Tony choked, the entire world around him crumbling into nothingness.
They shot him.
They...they hurt him.
They hurt Tony’s son.
“You,” the armed one said, ripping the tape off of Peter’s mouth after shifting his weight and temporarily aiming the gun Tony’s way, “are going to give us a couple million. Then you’ll get your kid back.”
Tony saw that one coming. It only intensified his blood-red vision, only dimmed his already darkened gaze.
“No,” Peter gasped. “No, Dad, don’t-“
“Shut up, brat.”
“Let him go,” Tony warned venomously, voice low and cautious. “or I swear to god, I’ll blow you both sky high.”
The unarmed one seemed more than fazed by the threat, gaze shifting back and forth between Tony and his partner.
“...C’mon, dude. Just hand the kid back, he-he won’t even turn us in.”
”You don’t know that!” the armed one snapped back, teeth grit as he dug the barrel of the gun harder into Peter’s head. Peter grimaced, raising his chin and clearly fighting a breakdown.
“Please.” Tony choked down tears, chewing the inside of his cheek and not once taking his glossy-eyed gaze off of Peter’s face. “I-I can’t-I need-“
“Dad,” Peter choked out, taking Tony’s breath away the second it fell on his ears. “D-Dad, I’m sorry, I-“
”Shut up!” the armed one was panicking now, suddenly and violently throwing Peter to the ground. Peter gasped upon contact, bringing bound hands to attempt to rise to his knees before that familiar feeling of a gun on his head had him swaying forward.
The sound of Tony’s repulsors whirring to life echoed throughout the warehouse as he stepped forward, face red and eyes desperate.
“Don’t! Just-just listen to me, okay? I’ll give you money, a new life, whatever you want. Just-please, please don’t hurt him anymore.”
Tony eyed Peter’s leg, blood still gushing through his bound fingers. He swallowed vomit.
”Money first,” the man snarled, gun trembling in his grip.
”I don’t-I don’t have it right now, but if you just give me my son-“
”No! This has gone on for too long,” he clicked the safety off and took aim behind Peter’s skull, sinister gaze glued to Tony’s own terrified one. “Kid should’ve been dead an hour ago.”
Tony’s heart dropped. Peter raised his head carefully, heaving deep breaths as he made apologetic eye contact with his dad.
”I’m sorry.”
”No!”
Tony watched completely numb as Peter ducked and rolled out of the path of the bullet intended for his brain. The fire of the gun and the crack of the concrete below made Tony sick, made him nearly fold at the knees though he was sprinting into action instead, hellbent on taking out the kidnappers, shredding them to their last atom if he had to.
They hurt his son.
And for that, they deserved to die.
Tony didn’t make it far on that thought. Peter was jumping to his feet, whipping around and ripping his hands out of their restraints before his eyes were going wide as the armed one raised his gun once more, snarling through gritted teeth.
“Peter-NO!”
The second crack of the gun was somehow more deafening this time, followed by the terrible sound of Peter’s body hitting the ground, seemingly lifeless.
Tony’s eyes immediately spilled over with tears, his face pale and his jaw permanently dropped in horror.
“Oh-oh my god-“
“Now,” the armed one snarled, “give us the-“
He raised his hand without thinking, firing his repulsor rays and incapacitating the perpetrators within seconds.
“Oh, my gosh,” Tony huffed, stepping outside of his suit and feverishly lurching toward the ground where his kid lay, collapsing to his knees. “Oh-oh, my gosh, Peter-“
Tony carefully yet hastily turned Peter over on his back, trembling hands hovering over his kid as if he were made of glass before he was feeling for a pulse and staring down at the sickening crimson stain growing on his punny white shirt.
”Peter, baby, please. W-wake up, Peter.”
Peter’s eyes dropped open tiredly, his chest heaving rasped breaths. Tony brought a hand to Peter’s chest, the other cradling his kid’s head.
”Dad...”
”Oh, thank god. Thank god.”
”...Hurts.”
”I-I know. I know, baby. It’s-it’s gonna be alright. I’m gonna-I’m gonna get you help, okay? I won’t let anything bad happen to you.”
Peter’s lip quirked in a tired smile. Tony’s heart stopped at the sight, heart shattering as he spotted a drop of blood trickling from the corner of Peter’s mouth.
”Oh-oh god. Okay, okay, kiddo, listen-listen to me very carefully, okay? I-I’m gonna-I’m gonna lift you up, a-and we’re gonna go to the tower, and-and-“
”Dad.”
”And we’ll-I’ll-I’ll get you Cho, and we’ll watch a movie when it’s all over-“
”Dad.”
Tony paused, closing his eyes and letting a tear spill down his cheek before he was looking down at his son like he was the most remarkable miracle to ever grace the Earth with his presence. Peter was smiling subtly, raising a shaking, blood-soaked hand up to take Tony’s hand.
”M’ sorry,” Peter whispered. “‘Bout the fight. Didn’t mean it.”
”No, no, I know that, Peter. I didn’t-God, I’m so sorry too, baby. I didn’t mean one word of it. Other than the, you know, the part about not wanting to-to lose you.”
Peter let out a small laugh, wincing and bringing a protective arm around his abdomen. Tony’s eyes flashed with worry, gaze darting between his son’s glassy eyes and his gushing torso and thigh.
“I-I’m gonna make it better, okay? I’ve got you.”
Tony turned over his shoulder and yelled at FRIDAY to get Rhodey the hell down here right the fuck now before he was bringing his son close to his chest, holding him and swallowing down bile as his son shivered in his hold.
”I-I guess I’m-I’m not ready, am I?”
”No, no, hey,” Tony took Peter’s hand fiercely in his and held a kiss to his forehead, tears spilling from his eyes freely. “You’re more than ready. I just-can’t lose you.”
He rocked them back and forth, the world around them evaporating into nothingness once more.
“I love you, Peter. So, so much.”
”I love you too.”
...
”I’m sorry.”
”Kid, I swear to god: shut up.”