Chapter Text
What have I gotta do to make you love me?
What have I gotta do to make you care?
What do I do when lightning strikes me
And I wake to find that you're not there?
What do I do to make you want me?
What have I gotta do to be heard?
What do I say when it's all over?
And sorry seems to be the hardest word
- Sorry Seems To Be The Hardest Word, Elton John
Some days are hard and that’s part of life. But that doesn’t mean they won't be a pain in the ass. And when you’re Tony Stark, certified “piping hot mess”, the bad days can feel like he’s still in the wormhole, trapped in the deep and infinite outer space.
There isn’t a particular reason why he’s like this today. Most of his bad days work like that. Well, Tony is aware he has plenty of reasons, but none are recent.
Tony ranges from numb to irritable. When these days happen, he isolates himself in the workshop so he can focus on something else, like his suit of armor or his cars. That way, he won’t resort to alcohol, nor will anyone else get hurt. It helps that Pepper is out to work, and Rhodey is saving the world.
Today, the billionaire is fixing some bugs in his suit while at the same time he’s fixated on rebuilding a piece from the old, flaming Ford. It’s the only car part that has broken, and Tony can’t understand why. And for some reason, he’s unable to fix it. When he gets too stressed about it, Tony returns to his suit, and then he goes back to the Ford, so on and so forth.
Usually, fixing things and taking them apart help him. But today, they don’t.
At one point, Tony gives up and tries to forget the car piece for a bit.
And to make things worse…
F.R.I.D.A.Y reminds him that Peter is on his way.
“Oh. Oh my god,” Tony groans loudly. “Fuck.”
Only then does he remember that today is lab day. On his bad day. How could he forget?
Tony clearly can’t tell Peter to go home. He didn’t take more than two hours to get kicked out immediately. That’s just an asshole thing to do. On the other hand, the older man feels bad for thinking this way, but just imagining Peter rambling and rambling endlessly is already worsening his headache. He also won’t have the courage to tell Peter to not stay in the workshop. He doesn’t want to make the kid feel like he’s not wanted.
He sighs, soon hearing the elevator door opening, and Peter’s bouncy, happy steps going towards him. He’s clearly having a great day. Oh, the irony.
“Hi, Mr. Stark!” Peter greets him. Tony doesn’t have to look at him to see the sun rays coming out of him. Instead of warming him, they only blind Tony and make the heavy storm in his head grow larger.
“Hey, kid,” Tony lamely acknowledges.
“I’m feeling so awesome today! I finally aced my Spanish test,” Peter goes on, probably not noticing Tony’s lack of attention. “For a moment, I thought I wouldn’t make it, since the teacher can be a little hard on the correction, but he congratulated me! Not to brag, but I was one of the few aces in class, and man, you should’ve seen the look on Flash’s face, it was priceless!”
Peter is full on chatterbox mode, talking about all the other school stuff. On a normal day, Tony would’ve been so proud of him. They would’ve even ordered something special to celebrate. He knows how stressed Peter gets because of school, so him feeling so proud of himself is a delight. It’s too bad that Tony’s brain isn’t complying with him, so he stops listening to Peter halfway through, and he realizes he’s not doing anything with his suit, just sliding his fingers on the projection repeatedly, aimlessly.
At some point, he realizes the workshop is silent, save for the Black Sabbath playing in the background. That means Peter has finally realized he’s talking to nobody.
“... uh, w-what are you doing over there?” The teen stutters.
Tony sighs. He should apologize.
“Sorry, kid. I’m…” I’m having a bad day. This is not your fault. But he doesn’t have the strength to say these words, for some reason. “I’m trying to fix some bugs in the communication system.”
“Oh. Do you need help?”
“Nah, it’s fine.” Liar. “You can do whatever you want, like homework, or anything in your suit. I’ll help you later if you need me.”
“Um, okay.”
As Peter moves to his counter, Tony instantly remembers what’s lying there.
“Just don’t touch that thing there, alright?” The latter requests. Almost begging.
“What’s that?” Peter observes it.
“Just… a stubborn car part I’ve been trying to fix forever. And not getting any progress.” He knows his voice is sharper than usual, but Tony’s head is exploding. He’s so angry. At whom?
Peter merely hums and installs himself in the counter. The damned piece is on the other corner. Finally, Tony goes back to the suit. As long as it stays this way, maybe his bad day will improve.
The hero is able to distract himself for once, as Paranoid plays. Tony hears a shuffle or another coming from Peter, but it’s nothing too bothersome.
Next thing he knows, though, everything goes to shambles.
The noise that comes destroying the quietude and peace is loud like thunder. It’s probably the storm inside Tony’s head now ruining the real world, too.
“What the FUCK, Peter?!” Tony blurts out, knowing that it came from the kid. He knows what Peter did, as he sees the car part broken into pieces, scattered on the floor.
“I’m sorry! I’m sorry, Mr. Stark, I was just trying to get a better look at it, m-maybe fix it for you–”
“Are you serious?! I told you not to touch it!”
“I’m sorry, I-I just wanted to help!”
“I don’t WANT your help! I just wanted you to BE QUIET and do your thing in your corner! But clearly you NEVER listen to me when I tell you to stay put!”
Peter is shaking his head, wanting to say more, but Tony keeps going.
“See, that’s your goddamn problem. You refuse to listen to me, you ‘think’ you’re going to help, but you just make EVERYTHING WORSE. That’s exactly what happened at the ferry.”
“But Mr. Stark…” Peter’s voice is tiny.
“I don’t know how many times I have to get in that stupid brain of yours,” Tony steps forward, stepping on one of the pieces, “DO NOT TOUCH MY FUCKING STUFF!”
The thunder scares Peter. He steps back.
He’s shaking. He’s shaking so hard.
And his eyes…
Those precious puppy eyes…
Tony stops dead in his tracks.
The damage has been done.
He replays all the words he just said, and he feels absolutely sickened by his own cruelty.
Peter is scared. He’s scared of Tony.
Oh my god. Oh my god, no.
Peter slowly backs away, like a scared animal.
“Peter,” Tony says, reaching out a hand…
But the kid runs away.
“Peter, wait!”
The boy manages to snatch his backpack and rush to the elevator. Tony doesn’t rush after him, though his arm is still trying to reach him. Of course, it doesn’t work. Peter is gone.
Tony is frozen where he stands.
The car part is broken beyond repair. Some small part of him still believes he can fix it.
But that is not more important.
He needs to fix what he just did to Peter.
He has to fix things.
No suit of armor, no car, nothing is more important than his kid.
When Tony rushes outside, he’s not too late.
“Peter!” He exclaims.
The teenager flinches, much to Tony’s dread. The former turns around like the latter’s storm is going to hit him again.
“Peter, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have said those- those awful things to you. I was wrong about everything I said.”
Despite this, Peter doesn’t seem to believe it. He’s been betrayed. His trust… broken. It’s such a stark contrast to when he arrived at the workshop.
“I get it, Mr. Stark,” he says, voice low. He turns around to avoid Tony. “I just ruin your life.”
“No… goodness, no. My life is so much better with you in it.”
“It doesn’t feel like it.”
Peter isn’t crying anymore. He’s not even angry. He’s just hurt.
“You didn’t do anything wrong, I promise,” Tony insists.
“I just break your stuff and make a mess. You said that, and you believe that.”
Tony shakes his head. Meanwhile, Peter is checking his phone and texting someone, probably Happy.
“Please, don’t leave like this,” the man begs. “W-We can fix this, together. We’re a team, right?”
“Mr. Stark–”
“We can order your favorite food, we can celebrate your grade and- and everything you do, we can watch those space movies you like–” Tony knows he’s pushing but he doesn’t know how to stop.
“Tony.”
Peter has never called him by his first name before. And it doesn’t sound endearing.
The boy is still not facing him.
“... I shouldn’t have come here,” he concludes.
Tony doesn’t know what to say anymore.
After a pained silence, Peter sighs, probably to filter his pain. “I just need to go home.”
The other inhales and exhales, putting his hands inside his pockets. “Okay.”
Not too long after, a car arrives in front of the building. Happy only opens the windows, looking confused at the situation yet not prying. He gestures for Peter to get in.
Peter is heading towards the car…
“L-Let me know when you get home, okay?” Tony pleads quietly.
The teen just vaguely looks at him, not directly. “Okay.”
Happy gives Tony a sad gaze, as if meaning, “we can talk about this later, if you want”.
Regardless, Happy and Peter are quickly gone, and Tony watches the car disappear into the horizon. There’s no one else around to watch this scene.
Tony drove them all away.
He drove his kid away.
And for the first time in a while, Tony can’t hold back his tears.