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Peter was in trouble, big time. Tony had told him to stay low and out of sight of the giant rock man while helping civilians get somewhere safe. Tony had deemed this fight too dangerous for Peter to be involved in which of course the teen proceeded to roll his eyes and argue that he was ready for an “Avengers Level Threat” but was immediately turned down by the older man.
But there was no way Peter was going to just sit around and watch as the giant rock man chased after his mentor, swinging his large fists around, trying to swat the older man out of the sky like a fly.
Peter's spidey sense was throbbing steadily at the back of his neck as he watched the fists getting closer and closer to hitting Tony as the older man was struggling to keep dodging the swings.
The other Avengers were trying to pull the rock man's attention to them as they could also see Tony was struggling, one of his boot’s thrusters had broken making it difficult for the genius to fly properly, wobbling dangerously in the sky.
Peter had finished getting all of the people out of the area safely, having done a double check in the buildings to make sure no one was left behind before running back out onto the street where he could see the rock man pull his fist back which had chipped off into a sharp pointed rock, and it was heading straight for Tony.
Peter didn’t hesitate before he was flinging his wrists out, attaching webs to buildings to propel himself up into the air and slamming himself against Tony to push him out of the way of the sharp rock that would’ve pierced through his armour and into his chest.
Peter cried out when he felt the sharp rock graze his side, cutting deep just above his hip. Shocked from the pain in his side he just barely caught himself from hitting the ground, his wrist shooting out to attach a web to the closest building. The save didn’t do much as he hit the ground just a little less hard than he would have.
He tumbled and rolled to a stop on the hard concrete with a groan, his body curling in on itself as his hand came to press against his side that was bleeding sluggishly. His head was pounding from the pain of it hitting against the concrete and he had a strong feeling he earned a concussion from the impact.
As the teen took deep breaths to compose himself, he heard the sound of unsteady thrusters sounding up and getting closer to him.
“Tony, we need you out here!” Steve’s voice called through the coms.
“I need to get to the kid, he’s injured.” Tony barked back.
“Clint, go get Spider-Man back to the jet. We need you in the fight, Stark. Barton will get him back safely.” Steve ordered, his voice strained as he threw his shield at the rock man's head, stunning him.
“On it,” Clint said.
“Fine,” Tony grumbled, and the thrusters' sound faded, making Peter feel more vulnerable knowing that Mr. Stark wasn’t coming to get him. He curled himself into a tighter ball.
“Hey kid, jeez that looks like a nasty graze. C’mon, let's get you back to the jet.” Peter heard Clint say as he came up beside him, slowly helping him up and wrapping his arm around his waist, careful not to touch the injury, to support his weight.
Peter leaned his weight against Clint and let him bring him back to the Jet albeit a little stubbornly, not wanting to leave Tony alone. But when Cap called into the coms announcing it was over he finally went willingly.
Once on the Jet Bruce came to his side and helped him lay onto the cot, pulling his mask off. Peter ran a hand through his tangled curls with a sigh wanting nothing more than to get into bed and sleep for 12 hours.
Just as his eyes were about to drift shut while Bruce was patching him up the Avengers began piling into the Jet, chatting and tending to each other's injuries. Peter stiffened when he saw Tony walk in, still covered in his armour.
“Mr. St-” He called only to cut himself off when Tony marched right past him, not even glancing his way and the unimpressed face of the helmet probably didn’t differ too much from his mentor's face under the metal. Peter felt his heart clench a bit at that.
Usually, the man would rush to check Peter over for any other injuries whenever he got hurt, but this time it was different, Tony outright ignored him. Peter couldn’t stop the negative voice in the back of his mind screaming everything that this could mean. Did Tony not care about him anymore? Was Peter kicked off the team, which means he would never be allowed in the tower anymore, which means he’ll never be able to see Tony anymore?
Bruce could see the tight anxious expression on the younger boy's face and was quick to try to reassure him.
“Don’t think about it too much. You know Tony, he’s not great at expressing how he feels. He is probably just scared about how you could’ve gotten hurt way worse or upset with himself for letting you get hurt in the first place.” Bruce told him, patting him on the shoulder. Peter just nodded his head, his eyes downcast to his hands in his lap.
“When we get to the tower you should go lay down for a bit, luckily the graze wasn’t too deep that it requires stitches, with your healing factor it should be mostly healed in two days,” Bruce told him before standing straight and heading off to go help the others tend to their wounds.
Peter laid down in the cot as comfortably as he could and looked toward the cockpit where Tony was starting the Jet up. Peter couldn’t help the feeling of dread that settled in his stomach. He hated when people were mad at him, he never wanted to disappoint anyone or upset anyone, always trying to do the right thing.
It was very rare that May or Ben ever got angry with Peter and when they were they made sure to talk it out, avoid raising voices and come to an understanding in the end. May and Ben knew of Peter's sensitivity to loud voices, Mary and Richard had been abusive verbally and on the rare occasion, physically with each other, sometimes Peter had gotten unlucky and got caught in the middle of it.
Even years later loud noises were a sensitive thing to Peter.
Peter hadn’t realized he had drifted into a light slumber until the Jet touched down on the landing pad on the tower. The team was getting up and moving to climb out as the ramp lowered. Peter winced as he stood up from the cot, grabbing his mask.
Peter waited for everyone to leave first and hunched his shoulders forward when Mr. Stark passed him, yet again not even glancing the teens' way as he did. Peter felt hot tears building up in his eyes and blinked them away, refusing to cry over something so pathetic.
The team gathered in the common room, some slumping down on the couches with loud sighs, others going to the kitchen to get food and drinks, Clint turning the TV on right away to continue the show that he’d been watching before they got called on the mission.
Peter didn’t join them, pushing his way through and rushing straight to his room, trying to swallow down the lump in his throat and ward off the anxiety clawing at his chest.
The boy was unaware of his mentor's eyes on him as he rushed out of sight and down the hall.
As soon as Peter got into his room and locked the door behind him and slumped onto his bed, burying his face in his pillow and squeezing his eyes shut tightly, he really didn’t want to cry but the neglect from Mr. Stark was really getting to him and he didn’t know why.
He didn’t care if it meant Tony would be scolding him, or worrying over him like a mother bear, he just wished the older man would talk to him. The silent treatment was so much worse, it got Peter’s anxiety going and he was thinking the worst of what it could mean.
Peter eventually dragged himself up from his bed and shed his suit, letting it slide down his body and wincing when it caught on his bandage for a moment. After changing into sweatpants and the MIT sweatshirt Tony gave him, he picked up his suit from the ground and inspected it, grimacing at the rip where the rock had grazed his side.
“Friday? Where’s Mr. Stark right now and is he busy?” Peter spoke in a small voice. Often when someone was upset with Peter, mainly May or Ned, Peter would fall quiet wanting nothing but to curl into himself protectively.
“Boss is in his lab, he is not busy.” She informed him, her voice oddly soft and gentle.
“Thanks, Fri.” he mumbled and slipped out of his room, keeping the suit tightly held in his hands. He stepped into the living room where most of the others were gathered, eating leftover shawarma from the other night, Peter’s stomach grumbled hungrily at the sight of the food.
Slipping into the elevator unnoticed, Friday brought him down to the lab. The entire time Peter's nerves were thrumming, he didn’t know how Tony would be now. Peter had purposely given him some space, hoping that he would be back to normal after taking some time to himself.
The elevator dinged as it stopped. Peter slinked out and toward the glass doors where he could see Tony slumped over his workbench, his back to him and music blasting. Peter pulled open the glass doors and Friday turned off the music, Tony looked up in protest, looking around to find the reason and tensed when his eyes landed on Peter.
Peter slowly approached him, holding up his suit.
“I-I was wondering - if you’re not busy, If you could fix my suit up, i-if you can’t at the moment that’s okay. I’ll just leave it here,” Peter stuttered out. Tony turned and eyed the suit before reaching out and snatching it out of the teens' hands. Peter didn’t mean to tense at that but the quick movement startled him.
Peter stood there awkwardly for a moment before gaining the confidence to speak up.
“A-Are you okay, Mr. Stark?” he asked hesitantly, not wanting to pry but just needing to hear his voice. Tony glanced up at him from where he was inspecting the rip in the suit.
“I’m fine.” he answered stiffly. That didn’t help ease Peter's nerves at all.
“D-Did I do something wrong? I’m sorry if I did something to u-upset you.” Peter wrung his hands anxiously. At that Tony dropped the suit on the desk and shot Peter a dark look, Peter took a step back at the look.
“Really? Don’t act like you don’t know what you did.” he scoffed, his voice laced with venom that sent Peter’s heart dropping to his stomach. Tony stood up and advanced toward Peter, seemingly worked up by the question.
“I gave you strict instructions to stay low and help the little guy. But no, what do you do? You step out of line and go getting yourself hurt like you always do!” Tony barked out and Peter inwardly winced.
“The rock guy was about to stab you, if I hadn’t stepped in you could’ve died.” Peter defended weakly and that seemed to fuel Tony’s anger.
“It’s not your job to protect me!” He shouted suddenly and Peter jumped, his shoulders drawn up to his neck as he lowered his head, Tony didn’t notice. “You’re the child and I’m the goddamn adult! I honestly don’t understand how you can’t see how stupidly reckless you are. Why the hell can’t you follow simple instructions, Parker? If you keep pulling dumb shit like that you’re going to get yourself killed! I don’t need that on my fucking conscience.” He continued to yell and Peter took another step backward, tears building up in his eyes rapidly, he felt 5 years old again when his parents turned their yelling at each other and onto him.
“When are you going to get it through your thick skull that I don’t need your protection? I don’t think you realize how much your actions have consequences. Hell, I don’t even know why I let you run around doing the things you do when you’re obviously not ready!” Tony’s voice grew louder and louder the more he went on his rant.
Peter’s mind had almost shut off completely, the shouting startling him and setting off a switch in his mind that completely shut him down. All he could do was wrap his arms around his torso tightly, hugging himself and keeping his head down and shoulders hunched. His breathing was fast but quiet so the older man wouldn’t hear his panicking. Tears were steadily streaming down his cheeks and he didn’t dare reach up to wipe them away.
“Are you even listening to me?!” Tony shouted and reached forward, grabbing Peter’s arm. The touch sent Peter reeling, dread filling his stomach. He flinched away from the hand violently as he prepared for the hit. Tony had gone silent, his eyes widened in shock at the reaction.
“I’m sorry sir, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” Peter sobbed and kept backing away until his back hit the wall, he slid down the wall and sat on the ground with his knees pulled up tightly to his chest.
Tony was shocked into silence, the anger that had bubbled up inside him now vanishing, replaced with concern for his kid. He felt guilt build up once he realized what he’d done. He tried hard not to compare himself to Howard at that moment. Looking at Peter was like he was looking at a younger version of himself when Howard yelled at him.
Breaking out of his frozen state Tony cautiously stepped toward the boy who was still apologizing profusely with his head tucked against his knees. Tony was careful not to get too close and he stopped a few feet away to sit down on the ground in front of the boy.
“You’re okay, Pete.” Tony said gently, hoping the boy would be able to hear him over his sobbing. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled, that wasn’t fair of me. It’s okay. I’m not mad anymore.” Tony continued to reassure him and he could hear Peter’s sobs slowly calm into small hiccups. Tony’s heart was clenching painfully at the sight of the boy making himself small and crying.
Tony waited and waited, patience never running thin, until eventually the boy peeked over his knees. His red-rimmed eyes met Tony's gentle ones and the tension left his body slowly.
“Can I come over there buddy? You know I’d never hurt you, right?” the older man questioned, not forgetting how Peter had flinched when he grabbed his arm as if Tony was going to hit him. Peter hesitated before nodding his head slowly.
Tony scooted over and pulled Peter into his arms, wrapping them around him protectively, Peter let out a whimper and melted into his father figure's hold.
“I’m sorry I shouted. I should’ve spoken to you about it instead of yelling, that wasn’t right of me. I just- I was scared. Seeing you almost get impaled and falling from the sky because of me made me realize just how easy it is to lose you and I don’t ever want to lose you, Pete. You’re my kid and I just want to protect you. But how I reacted wasn’t fair. And for that I'm sorry, I won’t do it again.” Tony spoke to him softly, running one hand up and down his back and the other through his hair.
“It’s okay. Sorry I got hurt.” Peter whispered and Tony let out a sad laugh.
“You don’t have to apologize, kid. I know you were just trying to help, I’m proud of you. I just can’t help but worry.” Tony pressed a kiss into his hair. They sat in comfortable silence for a bit before Tony voiced his thoughts.
“If you don’t mind me asking, why did you flinch when I grabbed you, did you think I was going to hurt you?” Tony questioned, voice tight, anxious of the answer. Peter shifted in his mentor's arms to look up at him before sighing.
“When I was little, my mom and dad fought a lot. Almost every week. I would stay in my room and wait for them to finish their fight before coming out but sometimes they would start fighting while I was with them which resulted in me being in the middle of it. I know I never did anything wrong for them to yell at me but I guess being there was enough of a reason? They would yell at me and the odd few times smack me around a bit. It’s stuck with me ever since. May and Ben knew not to raise their voices too loud because I guess it traumatized me which is stupid because it was so long ago and I should definitely be over it by now and not crying like a baby.” Peter explained, reaching up to rub away his tears. Tony never met Mary or Richard and he knew that if he could he would definitely be giving them a serious piece of his mind.
“It’s not stupid. And you’re not a baby. It’s understandable that it stuck with you. No kid should ever have to experience the things we did, especially not you and I’m sorry that you did.” Tony sympathized and Peter froze.
“We?” he looked up at Tony and the older man sighed.
“Howard wasn’t the best father.” is all he said. Peter nodded, cuddling closer to him.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered and Tony squeezed him tighter.
“Not your fault.”
Tony kept his arms tight around the kid he’d come to see as his own and Peter stayed latched to his father figure.
“And for the record, I would never hit you or even raise my hand at you. I want you to know that.” He whispered, pressing another kiss to his curls. Peter nodded.
“I know, I trust you.”
“I love you, kid.”
“I love you too, dad.”