Chapter Text
If you were to ask anyone who knew Peter Parker, ‘How would you describe him?’, the first word that comes to mind would probably be nerd, followed by genius or kind, and then maybe patient and forgiving. But the thing is, nobody at Midtown had seen Peter since the last day of sophomore year. It was now mid-February. No matter how many times Ned or MJ rang his phone – there was no one there to answer it.
They filled up his voicemail within the first month of the summer holidays leaving behind a string of worried questions and the need for an explanation as to why he dropped off the face of the earth. It wasn’t until Ned had hacked Mr Stark’s phone that they finally received an answer to their plea.
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“Boss, you have an incoming phone call from an unknown number,” Tony merely grunted at FRIDAY’s surprisingly gentle voice, the mechanic waving a hand at the ceiling before continuing to tinker away at the circuit board in front of him.
“I advise that you answer it, I have traced the call back to a Mr Edward Leeds. I believe he is a friend of Peter.” Peter’s name makes Tony stop his soldering and push away the board. Leaning back on his chair with a sigh he contemplates answering the call or not.
The man looks to be on the older side of fifty-one, seemingly gained a decade when Pete first disappeared and another after he was found. His hair is harbouring more greys than usual and his sleep pattern was thrown off-course more than ever before. Half-finished coffee mugs litter the bench space in front of him. The one Peter got for him as a gag gift on fathers-day is the only one being washed and re-used. Rubbing his jaw, Tony looks up at the ceiling before answering FRIDAY.
“Alright baby, answer the call.” Almost immediately after the confirmation, the speakers in the room click to indicate the call was answered. A moment of silence passes before a hesitant voice echoes through the room.
“Mr Stark? Is that you?” Ned says, like he’s actually surprised that Iron Man himself answered the phone.
“Mr Leeds, I should say I’m surprised that you had managed to hack my AI and get to my personal number but we both know I’d be lying. Now, how can I be of service?” Tony asks, picking up a loose piece of scrap metal sitting on the bend and tossing it between his hands as he waits for a reply.
“I, uh. I was wondering if you know anything about Peter?” His voice is quiet which makes Tony pause in his fidgeting for a moment before Ned continues. “We haven’t heard from him in months, and I know you are busy and all that! But-just. We want to know, anything, about where he is.” He sighs, hopeful for what the answers going to be.
Contemplating what to say Tony sighs, “Fortunately for you, I do know what happened to Pete. And where he is.” Tony pauses for a moment, contemplating his next words, “He’s here at SI. In the med-bay recovering from his ‘exchange’ with a certain red tentacled organisation.” A grim look settles on Tony’s face as he clenches the piece of metal in his hand.
“Hydra?!” Ned exclaims.
Tony sighs, “Yes Ned, Hydra. And before you ask, no. Peter isn’t fine. Probably won’t be for the rest of his life,” he mutters the last part, “But he’s healing. And he will get better, hopefully.”
“He’s at SI? Why didn’t you tell me earlier I could have seen him!” Ned practically shouts in his room, whipping his head to the bedroom door hoping that his mums didn’t hear the outburst. Standing up out of his chair he shuts the door and walks over to his bed, sitting down on the Star Wars bed cover. “I could have at least sent him another message.”
“Look kid, I didn’t say anything because Pete didn’t want you to know. He isn’t ready to go out in the world yet let alone see anyone outside of the avengers or the medical staff. He needs time to adjust, it was a long eight months on him.” Setting down the metal, Tony stands up and grabs Pete’s mug; walking out of the lab he continues the conversation while he walks to the elevator.
“To the kitchen please FRIDAY.” The elevator moves up a second later, Ned’s voice shifting from the lab to the smaller space.
“Am I allowed to ask what happened? I-I won’t tell anyone I swear! I just want to know where he was,” Ned pleaded with Tony, essentially begging for an answer.
“Fuck, Pete better not kill me for this,” he mutters, “Fine. I know how bad of a secret keeper you are so I’m just going to give you the less pain-inducing run-down. Peter was kidnapped by Hydra. He was brainwashed and turned into a puppet ready for Hydra’s bidding. You’re a smart kid, what you make from that is up to you.” The elevator doors slide open and Tony steps out into the Avenger's loungeroom, the tv playing some car sales jingle as Nat sits on the couch with an open book.
“He was what?! Peter was kidnapped?” Ned exclaimed, his voice pitching in hysteria. Natasha looks up from her book at Tony, eyebrow raised at the sound of a teenager through FRIDAY.
“Ted, Peter’s friend,” he simply said, turning into the kitchen and flicking on the coffee pot. His Stark Pad lies on the table where he left it earlier that day, email is still open to Peter’s school regarding his absence.
“Look kid, if you want to help Peter, keep this to yourself. If anyone asks at school say that he’s doing an exchange iiiiin…” Tony squints at the email, scanning to see what country he picked for Pete’s fake exchange. “Russia. Say that he’s in a student exchange in Russia.” Of course, it was Russia. That’s where Bucky and Natasha pick him up from. At least he would be able to keep up the cover with him now knowing Russian. And French. Probably one more.
“Yeah, yeah ok sure. Could you, maybe tell Pete that I called, and, uh, tell him to call me when he’s ready?” Ned says softly, his free hand picking at a loose thread on the bed.
“Sure Ted. Look after yourself alright? Peter... he’s gonna get better here. So don’t worry too much.” Tony leaves it at that, briefly saying goodbye to the kid and then shutting off the line. Sighing, he picks up the pot of coffee and pours it into the mug alongside a disgusting amount of sugar.
“Pour me one too,” Natasha says from across the room, turning the page and continuing to read. Scoffing to himself Tony picks out another mug from the cupboard, a gift from a fan by the looks of a poorly scribbled hulk on it and fills it with coffee.
He picks up the two mugs and makes his way over to the couch, calling out for FRIDAY to change the channel to something with a little less advertisement. It changes from infomercials to a re-run of M*A*S*H and Tony decides to leave it at that. Placing down the mug on the coffee table, he sinks back into the cushions of the couch, nursing the scalding mug in his hands and blowing on the steam.
“He still in his room?” He asks Natasha, looking over to her curled form in the crook of the couch. Reaching out to the mug, she too lifts her cup and takes a sip, placing it back down without a wince at the scalding temperature.
“He came out a couple of hours ago to get a glass of water and make a sandwich. I’d call it progress, but Barnes essentially forced him out of his room,” she says, glancing up to watch Tony’s reaction.
As much as he hated to admit it, Barnes was a better help than he was these days. He knew what Peter had gone through, and understood the pain that came with having to re-wire your brain and try to forget all the pain you had caused. Plus, he had the added super strength to retain Peter’s newfound anger management issues.
The boy could get mad within seconds now, probably beating Bruce at his own game. He would take off running, either to the gym or the lab depending on his mood. If it was a destructive anger Tony knew he would be ordering ten more Captain America-approved punching bags and knife targets by the end of the day. If it was productive anger, lab eighty-seven would be shut off until the next day, the web fluid and Spider suit going through enough updates to last a lifetime and then some.
Tony remembers the first time Peter had run off to the gym. No one knew what triggered it, or what happened for him to storm out of the room like he was going to kill som- like he was on a mission. Scared them all shitless when Tony tried to go after him and ended up with a knife sticking out of the wall next to his face. He took the warning and stayed where he was, letting Pete leave to cool off.
The one thing that did surprise everyone was Bucky being the one who went down to get him, already knowing where the boy had gone.
He returned an hour later with a bloody-knuckled and red-eyed Peter in tow, dragging him off to his room to rinse the blood off. He had grabbed Pete’s plate of pasta left on the table on the way past and gently pushed the boy out of the dining room, Peter dazedly walking off down the hallway and towards the bedrooms.
“As unnoticeable as it was, his plate was made for him,” Bucky said looking at Steve, the room still clueless, “Any chance of independence Peter has, he’ll take it. One thing Hydra does is strip you of all individuality until your left to depend on them. Having you make his plate made him feel like he lost a chance of independence.” Giving the room an undecipherable look, Bucky left it at that, grabbing his own plate from the table and following after Pete.
Dinner that night was quiet around the table.
Eventually, the avengers moved on from that incident, deciding among themselves to create a list of ‘things that trigger Pete’ that stays on the fridge. Everyone ignored how most of the list was in Bucky, Tony and Natasha’s handwriting. It's held up by a pink hello kitty magnet.
“At least Barnes is getting him out. The last time I saw the kid when he wasn’t tearing apart the gym was last week when I walked past him in the lab.” Looking down at the coffee in his hands Tony continues, “I’m worried for him. What they did to him, it’s basically irreversible. And no matter how many times he destroys the gym or breaks down and rebuilds the suit I wonder if he’s ever going to get back in it.”
“Trauma like that takes time, give him the benefit of the doubt. Kids made it through the impossible before, I’m sure he can do it again,” Nat says with a hidden frown tugging at the corner of her lips.
“I just hope that his miracle hits before he does something he’s going to regret.” The unsaid statement in Tony’s words lingers between the two. “I don’t what to do. I could barely manage him when he was a nerdy, hyperactive, super-strong teenager and now he’s a traumatized, ex-hydra-controlled-assassin, super-strong teenager.” Looking down at his coffee Tony shakes his head and sips a mouthful.
The engineer feels too far out of his comfort zone. People were not his forte. Give him a tool kit and spare parts he could build a fully functioning robot in an hour. Stick him in a room full of people and time how quickly he can piss them off.
“Tasha you’ve been out of the Red Room for years and Barnes from Hydra for at least two. Between the two of you, you have enough paranoia to find the reason for hunting at least half the population. So what the hell does that mean for Pete?” Tony turns to Natasha again, his arm resting on the back of the couch.
“Barnes and I had been with them for decades; Peter was only with them for a couple of months. He’s got a better chance of recovering from months of brainwashing than years. I know it’s hypocritical of me Tony, but have hope.”
“Yeah well, hope hasn’t gotten me too far in life now has it.”