Saturday - April 2, 2016

Parker Residence - Sub-Level Labs

06:12 p.m.

A sharp hiss of pain flew from his lips as he felt the knife slice his cheek, blood splattering the wall behind them as he reared back, quickly stepping out of range of the woman as she flipped the knife into her other hand.

Peter felt his chest heaving, positioning his feet to face off against her as Sandra threw him a crooked smile, her ponytail swishing behind her as she lifted up her arms, shining knife in hand. Peter narrowed his eyes and gripped the knife in his hand a little tighter right as the woman charged him.

Tensing his muscles, the teen ducked underneath the oncoming slash and elbowed the woman in the side, a grunt falling from her lips as she bent, Peter swishing forward as he swept her legs out from underneath her. Sandra, ready for this, twisted onto her side and fell to one knee, swinging the other leg forward as she caught Peter in the back of the knee, the teen buckling right as she leapt forward and rammed her elbow into his shoulder.

He yelped and rolled away as the knife slashed the air right in front of his face, missing his nose by mere centimeters.

Quickly leaping back to his feet, Peter raised his arm and blocked the oncoming blow, dropping his knife into his other hand as he slashed upwards towards her chest, kicking the hem of her shirt before the two broke away again, her leg swishing out once more. Leaping over the kick, Peter surged forward and rammed his shoulder into her gut, driving her backwards as he cut her arm before he felt a similar feeling slice through his upper shoulder.

He hissed and backed up right as the knife flew forward once more, slashing his forehead before a fist slammed into his cheek, whipping his head to the side right as Sandra shot her knee upwards, catching the bottom of the boy's chin.

He grunted and fell to the floor as Sandra twirled the knife in her hand. "What's wrong, Petey? Tired already?"

"Considering we've been doing this for over ten minutes, just a little bit." He muttered, not even caring about what punishments could ensure for his sarcasm before he narrowed his eyes and curled his fingers even tighter around the knife in his hands, teeth grinding.

He had been fighting all day. Curt, Sandra, Max, Flint, even some of the new cadets. Each bringing with them a new trial for him to overcome, a new enemy to face. And for each exercise, his father stood to the side, measuring his reflexes, his stamina, his strength, face ever stoic and eyes as cold as always, his expressions never shifting into anything other than displeasure as he watched his son get pummeled, stomped, slashed and thrown all over the room.

But what else was new?

However, as he faced off against Sandra for the third time in the last four hours, he couldn't help but feel his frustrations beginning to burn brighter. Each taunt. Each blow. Each crooked smile made his teeth grind and his fists clench just a little harder. It had been such a long day, and he was ready for it to be over!

With a growl of fury, the teen rushed her once again. Preparing for this, Sandra prepared for the teen to strike low once again. However, she was not ready for him to flip over her, slashing her back as he leapt, landing on the ground for just a moment before surging back towards her, sliding underneath her legs as he slit the back of her knees, the woman letting out a growl of pain as she buckled, only for the teen to ram his fist into her face and flip his knife into his other hand, striking it forward as the woman countered with her own, their arms clashing as the tips of their knives pointed threateningly towards their throats.

If it weren't for the inhibitor cuffs tacked onto his writs, Peter would have easily overpowered the woman. However, seeing as he'd prepared for such an event, the teen ducked underneath her outstretched weapon and hit the woman's arm from underneath, catching her by surprise as the knife fell from her grasp, the teen gripping it in his hands as it fell and whipping it forward.

However, before the weapon could reach the mark that was her neck, he felt a powerful force stop his movements cold, seeming to freeze him in place as a cold wash of energy flooded his senses and paralyzed him where he stood.

Eyes widening at the sudden situation, the teen was just able to look around enough in his frozen state to recognize the purple energy now encompassing his body. A feeling of dread fell into the pit of his stomach like a stone sinking in a lake as he tentatively glanced back towards Sandra. The woman was glaring at him in fury as her eyes glowed a deep violet, which matched the energy pooling in her hands as well as the aura hovering around the frozen boy.

Suddenly, with a flick of her wrist, Peter was sent hurtling backwards, his head hitting the back wall with a sickening thud before he crumpled to the ground, a loud groan floating up from his shivering form.

"Sandra..." His father scolded as he entered the training room, the doorway opening up from the bare white walls. The woman folded her arms and glanced back at him. "What? He got me all frustrated." She muttered with a bored expression. "Serves him right for snapping at me."

Richard let out a small growl of annoyance, a clear sign for the woman to stop talking as she exited the room before she had the chance to tick the man off even further. Richard rolled his eyes at the scene but said nothing else as he strode across the room towards his son, who was slowly beginning to rise to his hands and knees.

Peter shakily raised his head, hair falling into his eyes as he stared up at his father. "Up." The man commanded, Peter following through in a second's time as he followed the man out of the training room, the lights falling dim as they exited.

Outside the simulation room, the man swiftly turned on his heel, Peter nearly running into him as he abruptly stopped and held out his hand. The teen blinked for a moment, unsure of what his father wanted him to do, only to jump as he realized the inhibitor cuffs were still attached to his wrists. Cautiously placing his hands into his father's, the man reached into his pocket and pulled out a key, undoing the locks on the cuffs as they released the teen's wrists. Richard pocketed the cuffs and the key as he turned away without a word.

As usual when following up their daily training sessions, Peter went off towards the back of the huge command center to tend to his wounds while his father and the Cons met in his office - which was a suped-up renovation of the inside of one of the abandoned subway cars - to discuss the outcomes of the day.

Plopping down in one of the uncomfortable chairs, Peter winced and let his head fall against the back wall as a sigh fell past his lips, his eyes gently fluttering shut as the full weight of the day's events drained at what little energy remained in him.

Lazily cracking his eyes back open, the teen glanced to the side and gazed down at the rag, bandages and the bowl of water situated on the small table next to him. A wave of exhaustion flowed through him at the idea of moving any more, but he knew he had to clean himself up or the others would get annoyed at him for taking so long.

Heaving a small sigh, the teen groaned as he pushed himself up to rest his elbows on his knees as he reached over with a wince and picked up the towel.

Knowing that he could really only tend to his smaller wounds at the moment, the boy dipped the towel into the bowl of water and dabbed the cloth against his cheek, wincing as he felt the harsh sting of the liquid seeping into the ripped skin, gently dabbing the rag until drops of water began to pool down his cheek, dripping onto his pants.

Moving on to the cuts on his arms and collarbone, the teen bit his tongue against the sting of the cuts and rubbed the sweat and grime out of the scrapes before dropping the towel back onto the table and going for the bandages. Ripping off a small piece of the adhesive, he placed a tiny rectangle of tape onto the cut on his cheek and began to wrap the slashes present on his biceps and wrists, including the scarring marks left by the inhibitor cuffs, which always seemed to rub his skin raw.

Just as he was finishing up, the teen felt his stomach give a loud roar of protest, gnawing painfully at his insides as he shut his eyes in discomfort. Rolling the dates through his mind, Peter quickly remembered that it was Saturday, meaning he had to go out and buy groceries today.

Fun.

The teen supposed he shouldn't complain. After all, it was during these rare occasions that he was able to buy something for himself to eat, granted without the knowledge of his father or the Cons. But what they didn't know...

However, with the benefits of such endeavors came the equally horrid part of asking his father for money. Despite the fact that the man had assigned Peter to grocery shopping detail years ago, the man still couldn't seem to wrap his head around the fact that in order to do so, Peter needed money, meaning he needed his father's money.

Peter cast a morose glance his father's way, the light from the subway car spilling out into the rest of the room. Quickly sucking in a steadying breath, Peter slowly hoisted himself up from the chair, muscles screaming in protest as he grimaced in pain, forcing himself to move nonetheless.

As usual, the teen made an effort to avoid any and all contact with the other people in the room. Some he'd never seen before while others were already frequent suppliers and cadets. Nevertheless, Peter knew that if they were down there - if they were mingling with his father and his crew - then they were bad news.

And Lord knew, Peter didn't need any more of that.

After ducking and dodging past the others in the massive workroom, Peter hesitantly stared at the train car looming ahead of him. The warm orange light seeping from the windows and out the front entrance seemed to creep across the ground, stretching and clawing towards Peter's feet, threatening to drag him in.

The teen shook the thoughts away and took a steadying breath before entering the car.

The base skeletal structure of the car was the same. Large windows that stretched along the top half of the train, and a long narrow pathway flanked by said windows. However, the seats had been gutted out in favor for larger, comfier couches while a desk sat pushed up against one of the side walls and the other hoisted a bulletin board complete with multiple pins and files attached to the surface. His father sat behind the large counter, eyes scanning over the papers spread out over the desk while Max and Sandra put up new pieces of paper onto the bulletin board and Curt read out random information from a clipboard in his hands. Flint was...well, Flint was passed out on the small couch, an empty bottle in one of his large hands.

They hadn't noticed his arrival.

Realizing he'd have to get a move on if he wanted to reach the store in time before it closed, the teen cleared his throat and gently knocked on the metal surface of the closest wall.

Immediately, four heads shot up towards the noise, save for Flint, who was still passed-out drunk. Curt curled his lip before glaring back down at the clipboard. "What the hell do you want?" He muttered, as if his mere presence was a major inconvenience for them.

Peter opened his mouth, only to pause as he glanced over at his father. Richard was staring at him with his usual stare of displeasure and annoyance as he waved his hand in a motion that meant 'Explain. Quickly.'

Peter jerked out of his silence as he lowered his head and began to wring his hands out like wet towels. "Umm...i-it's Saturday. I-"

"Boy, thank you for the update!" Sandra snorted before tossing her hair over her shoulder. "Any other shocking news you'd like to proclaim?" She muttered, Max elbowing her in the side in disapproval while Curt snorted into the back of his hand. Richard rolled his eyes at their words but continued to stare back at Peter, dark black eyes boring into hazel-gold.

The look made Peter shiver.

"I...It's just that...I gotta g-go get groceries t-today." He murmured quietly, tensions mounting inside him on how his father would react. More often than not, it depended on the man's mood. It was almost always impossible to predict his father's reactions.

However, as the words left his mouth, Peter heard his father mutter a sigh of irritation before beckoning the teen over. Peter was quick to comply, sliding past Flint's sprawled-out body before coming up to stand beside his father's desk. The man ripped a few bills from his wallet and shoved them at the boy, Peter quickly floundering to get a better grip on them. "Don't dawdle." The man muttered before leaning closer to the teen, threateningly pointing a finger in his direction. "And don't get any more than needed. Understand?" He growled, eyes narrowed in malice and disgust.

Peter hastily nodded his head. "Y-yes, sir." He exclaimed quietly, moving to dart back out of the cart, only for his father to clear his throat as he stood up from his desk and began to shuffle a few papers into place. His hard stare remained locked on the folders as he spoke. "We won't be here when you get back." He uttered in his usual hard tone before looking away, the small piece of information obviously the only thing he wished to disclose.

However, in his haste, Peter couldn't help but furrow his brows in involuntary curiosity as he tilted his head "Where are you going?" He asked on reflex, before his brain could catch up to the words spilling from his mouth.

As soon as the words were out, the teen realized the mistake he'd made as his father rounded on him, backhanding him across the cheek before roughly grabbing the teen by the side of the neck, aggressively tilting his head back to stare the man straight in the eyes. "That's none of your goddamn business, you hear me?!" He snarled, face pinched in anger as Peter grabbed his father's wrist, hoping to pry the hand off of his neck. "You don't ask questions. You do as you're told and you keep your mouth shut! You understand?!"

The teen did his best to nod, eyes scrunching as he gritted his teeth together. Richard curled his lip in disgust before dropping the teen to the floor, glaring down at him with a scowl. "How many times are we gonna have to do this before you start getting it through your head." He muttered before swiftly walking back towards the desk.

The Cons hadn't even bothered to look up.

Peter said nothing as he scrambled to his feet and quickly bolted from the subway car, not stopping even as he exited into the open station once more, dashing straight for the elevator near the back of the building.

He panted heavily as the elevator doors slid closed around him, his back pressing into the cool metal behind him as he wrapped a hand around his throat, heaving at the throbbing pain in his cheek and shoulder. The soft whirring of the elevator slowly began to help his heart calm, the frantic beating dying down to a rhythmic thumping as he blew a sigh past his lips.

Idiot. He muttered to himself, glaring down at nothing. Why can't you ever just shut up? He growled bitterly,resting the back of his head against the wall behind him as he shut his eyes.

"I'm not gonna punish you or whatever for saying what's on your mind, you know."

The teen paused as Mr. Stark's words echoed in his mind, a lump forming in the back of his throat as he anxiously continued to rub at the back of his hand. Perhaps taking Tony words of advice wasn't the best idea for him. After all, it was already beginning to get him into more trouble than usual, Threatening to instill in him a confidence that the Cons and his father had been adamant in crushing. Besides, it wasn't like he could really apply such words to his life at home.

That was likely to get him killed.

Still...

"I want you to feel like you can be yourself here, alright?"

Couldn't hurt to dream.

The teen jerked out of his thoughts as the elevator doors slid open onto the penthouse floor he shared with his father, his shoulders sagging slightly at the sight. Nevertheless, Peter sucked in a small breath before stepping out. A hot shower seemed to be calling him, and he wouldn't stave it off any longer.

The setting sun was a frothing ball in the sky, warm orange tones seeping out around the clouds, flaring bright yellow and cool pink as its bright rays were reflected down onto the moving city below, shining on each glass pane and metal surface. The street down below was busy as always, people milling the curbs and flashes of light beginning to bloom as the neon signs of New York's night life began to flicker into existence, clashing with the warmth of the sky and the harshness of the neon glow. Yet the warm tones could not mask the dark clouds gathering near the horizon, cold gray beginning to seep into the yellows and reds, clashing violently against the bright backdrop.

Peter stared out at the sight, the warmth dripping onto his face as he felt the sun's rays hitting his cheeks before he turned away, hazel eyes drifting towards the floor. Without another word, the teen slowly ascended the nearby staircase up to his room.

The silence around him was a welcome departure from the usual fighting and shouting that commonly occurred downstairs. They were always arguing about something. Peter thought it best to avoid them at those times.

After entering his room, it didn't take the teen long to whisk off his shirt and sweatpants and hop into the shower. Though exiting was a whole other story. The warm water soaking into his bones made it near impossible to step away. But after he felt the tips of his fingers beginning to wrinkle, Peter let out a small sigh and turned the water off, small drops falling from his cheeks and the tips of his hair as he stepped out and grabbed a towel from the sink, scrubbing it through his hair, which quickly stuck up all over the place.

Reaching for the clothes he'd dragged in from his dresser, Peter quickly pulled up the long, dark-blue jeans and grabbed his shirt before pausing, taking in the sight staring back at him in the mirror.

His abdomen was a swirl of dark blues, purples and blacks, trails of deep red and light yellow sprinkled in here and there. His ribs were clearly visible and his pale skin tone only enhanced the bruises. Deep scars ran up along his sides and across his chest, some old and fading while others were still relatively fresh.

He blinked back at the sight, a small sigh escaping his lips. Other than that, his reaction was minimal. Such a sight didn't really bother him anymore. He knew it should have, but he just couldn't muster up the energy to care about it anymore. Besides, it wasn't like it would change anything if he did, so what was the point?

Shaking his head, the teen pulled the shirt down over his head, wincing loudly as he pulled at the newly scarring wounds he'd acquired earlier that afternoon, the air sucking in between his teeth as the skin pulled taught and the harsh red lines stretched painfully. Nevertheless, he yanked the T-shirt down all the way and walked back out into his bedroom, a warm cloud of stream following him as he opened the bathroom door.

Walking over to the dresser, he grabbed the money his father had given him, shoved it into his pocket and tossed a jacket over his shoulder as he stepped out of his bedroom, running a hand through his lightly damp hair before steeling himself, moving over towards the elevator once more.

The light sound of voices met his ears before the elevator had even stopped, the doors opening to reveal the first floor and the Cons, who were lounging in the living room, eyes blearily staring at the TV as they smoked...something. Peter averted his eyes. They didn't like it when he snooped on their business. He could hear the tell-tale sound of liquid swishing around a glass bottle and the sound of Curt's prosthetic fingers tapping together, the soft noise echoing in the air just loud enough for Peter to make out.

He hated that noise.

Click. Click. Click.

He lowered his head and stiffed his shoulder as he rushed for the door, praying they either didn't notice him or didn't care that he was even there. He was willing to bet on the latter as he reached the door and quickly exited, slamming it behind him with a satisfying THUD!

Releasing a small breath, the teen reached behind him and flipped up his hoodie as he glanced up at the sky, which was now beginning to melt into a pale pink with tones of purple, the darkening storm clouds creeping ever closer, sucking in all the colors from the sky into their gray embrace.

The teen fiddled with the money in his pocket, making sure it was still there before reaching for his earbuds.

However, Peter caught sight of something out of the corner of his eyes and turned his head as he saw his neighbor, May, standing on the front steps of her porch, a large potted plant in her arms as she shakily tried to take another step up the stairs, grunting at the weight of the plant in her arms.

She gritted her teeth as she tried once more to steady her foot on the next step, pushing herself up before she felt her toes slip back, a small yelp falling from her lips as she felt herself falling backwards.

Suddenly, she felt two hands grab her back and steady her as she slipped back to the cement sidewalk, eyes blinking in shock at the fact that she wasn't currently being flattened on the ground by the large pot, only to grin as Peter popped his head over her shoulder, bright eyes staring at her in concern. "You okay?" He asked breathlessly, obviously having just run over at the sight of her struggles.

The older woman beamed back at him with a warm smile. "Yes, Peter. Thank you." She murmured, setting the pot back down to the floor with a huff as she gave the plant a slight kick. "This damn thing seems to get heavier and heavier every time I try to lift it." She muttered, brushing a strand of chocolate hair out of her eyes.

Peter let out a soft chuckle, tilting his head mischievously. "And you seem to get clumsier and clumsier with each attempt." He teased, the woman giving him a light swipe on the shoulder, to which he easily avoided with a smirk.

The woman let out a small sigh before glaring up at the sky. "Well I wasn't planning on moving this stupid thing anytime soon, but it looks like it's gonna rain this evening and these things aren't meant to take much water." She explained, lightly kicking the pot once again to prove her point.

Peter glance down at it before shrugging. "Well, I can help you if you'd like." He offered.

May quickly shook her head. "Oh, it's alright, Peter. That thing's pretty heavy. I wouldn't want you to hurt your-" She started, only to pause as Peter bent down and easily lifted the pot into his arms. "-self" She finished after a pause, scrunching her nose as the teen walked up the steps and deposited the pot next to the woman's covered doorway. "Where are you hiding all that muscle, Pete?" She teased, lightly poking him in the arm.

Peter ignored the uncomfortable tingle that twinged through him at the touch and shook his hands in front of his face. "I'm an enigma." He joked with a smile, May laughing beside him. "That you are, kiddo. That you are." She mused as the boy hopped down the steps once more. "SO what're you doing out here anyway? Waitin' around for opportunities to save me and school me at the same time?" She smirked.

Peter chuckled and shook his head. "Nah, I'm just heading to the store. Grocery run." He explained.

She furrowed her brow and glanced up at the darkening sky. "Now? It's near ready to pour, honey." She expressed with a hint of concern edging her voice. Peter noticed it, but said nothing about it as he shrugged once more. "Dad's orders."

He meant it as a joke, but from the way his neighbor's face quickly darkened, it was obvious she saw the truth behind it, Peter's hands clenching slightly in concern. May seemed to quickly realize the uncomfortableness on Peter's face, for she quickly brushed it away, though it was hard to mask the anger burning in her chest. "Right, I know how that feels. I had to run quite a few chores back when I was your age." She tried to lighten the mood, which was easy considering Peter was all-too happy to change the subject.

The teen tilted his head nonchalantly. "It's no big deal." He sighed, content with the fact that he wasn't tripping over his words. He usually never did around May. There was nothing to be concerned about with May. Nothing to fear.

The woman stole another glance at the sky as a small grumble of thunder echoed around them. "At least let me drive you, Pete. I don't want you catching a cold if it really does start to rain." She said softly, placing a hand on his shoulder.

Peter brushed it off politely, masking his immediate reaction of escaping the touch with a shrug of his shoulders. "I'll be fine, May." He reassured her, ignoring the concerned look on her face as he decided to try another tactic. "Besides, you need to head to the diner soon anyway."

May's eyes widened slightly as she whipped her head down towards her watch, cursing under her breath as she caught sight of the time. "Damn." She muttered before throwing the teen a stink-eye. "How is it that you know my work schedule better than I do?" She scoffed, Peter chuckling as she ruffled his hair.

"Just promise me you'll be careful." She murmured softly as she began to tie her hair back into a bun. As usual, a few stray strands escaped her grasp, falling down around the sides of her face, framing her cheeks perfectly. Peter gave a small nod. "I'll be fine, May." He grinned back as he stepped off of the step and back down to the sidewalk.

The woman lingered at her door for a moment longer before letting out a sigh. "Alright." She murmured, clearly not happy at the current events, but realizing there wasn't much she could do to fix it.

Peter waved back at her. "See you later, May. Oh! And remember to bring your notebook for class tonight!" He reminded her, the woman slapping her forehead with a groan. "Forgot I had that too. You're a lifesaver, Peter." She called before racing back into her apartment, intent on seeking out her journal for her night classes down at the medical center.

Peter gave a small smile and shook his head at his neighbor's forgetful mind before rubbing at the back of his neck. May was a wonderful woman, and was great at getting Peter to talk.

Too good.

One of these days, she'd get him to say something he didn't mean to say. Something he wasn't allowed to say. That made her dangerous. Not dangerous in the same way that Curt and Max and his father were, but dangerous nonetheless.

Dangerous in the same way Mr. Stark was.

He narrowed his eyes and shoved the headphones into his ears more forcefully than needed, sticking his hands into his pockets as the soft roll of thunder milled in the background. Hopefully she was wrong. Hopefully the rain would hold off.

Peter jolted slightly as he felt a cold drop of water land on the tip of his nose.

Of course...

 

---

 

Saturday - April 2, 2016

Stark Tower - Main Offices

07:21 p.m.

"Tony, are you even listening to us?!"

"Nope." The man popped out nonchalantly as he continued to lazily spin in his office chair, Rhodey and Pepper sharing exasperated looks as he turned and threw them a weird look. "Wait - so...why are you in here again?" He asked with a bored tone, head tilting down to gaze at the open manila folder in his lap, indistinguishable papers fluttering in-between his fingertips.

Pepper gritted her teeth slightly, but otherwise held her cool as she narrowed her piercing blue eyes. "I just got off the phone with one very angry Secretary Ross." She started as her face twitched. "Apparently, you missed another on-call session with him this afternoon."

Tony didn't even bother in lifting his head as he continued to stare down at the papers in his lap. "Missed...avoided - you know these things are so ill-properly scheduled that it wouldn't be too much to wonder if maybe it was Ross who missed the call and me who was stiffed." He tossed out casually as he lightly kicked his feet underneath his desk.

Rhodey let out a small growl as he stalked forward and slammed his hand against the surface of the desk, the loud bang finally catching the billionaire's attention as he lifted his gaze. "Oh would you cut the bullshit for one fucking second and take something seriously for once?!" The man snapped.

Tony barely seemed phased as he flipped the folder closed and lifted his head. "Sorry, not really in my repertoire." He muttered back with a challenging look flashing in his eyes.

The colonel opened his mouth to spit out a retort, only to shut his eyes tightly as Pepper placed a hand on his shoulder, the man stepping back as he raised a hand to his face, blowing out a sigh as he ran a hand down his chin.

"Tony, you cannot keep blowing him off like this." Pepper stared up for him.

"Mmm, I'm pretty sure I can. It's pretty easy actua-"

"He is the goddamn Secretary of State, Tony!" Rhodey snapped, glaring down at the man who was now tapping his fingers against the closed file. "What do you think's gonna happen when he gets tired of your shit?" He growled out, shaking his head in exasperation.

"Well, shocking as it may be, I'm not his number one priority right now." Tony muttered, left arm twinging with the same bout of phantom pains that had been plaguing it for some time. "And honestly, I don't give a shit who he is, alright?" He snapped back. "He's a twit-faced asshole who could use a power check every now and then." He scoffed, waving his hand dismissively.

Pepper pinched the bridge of her nose while Rhodey clenched his fists and sucked in another breath through his teeth.

"Besides, he only needs me for one thing, and I've already made it abundantly clear that I want nothing to do with it."

Rhodes narrowed his eyes at that. "Why?"

Tony threw his eyes back on the colonel. "Why what?" He muttered.

"Why are you so reluctant to help catch them?" Pepper finished.

"Because it's not my fucking job, that's why!" The billionaire snapped back, eyes flashing. "They're international felons, meaning their capture is up to the United Nations, meaning the Accords are in play here. And since those pencil-pushing douchebags refuse to agree on the revisions, we're on stagnating waters with those documents. Meaning I'm off duty for the time being." He explained with a cross look marring his features.

He curled his hand into a fist and lightly pounded it against the armrest of his chair before glancing back up towards the others. "Look, Ross is on the forefront of the revisions process regarding the Accords, meaning all this shit stems around him."

"They why the hell are you pushing him so much?" Rhodey scoffed. "Just give him what he wants and he'll stop making your life such a hell!"

Tony rolled his eyes. "You kidding me? That's exactly why I'm fucking with him. The second I give into his little demands is the second I show him that I'm willing to bend and crawl for him and the day that happens is the day I blow my goddamn head off!" He snarled, fighting to ignore the way both Pepper and Rhodey winced at the self-harming comment. He averted his gaze and glared down at the ground.

"I'm nobody's fucking lap-dog."

Rhodey let out another exasperated breath before turning back towards the man. "So, what? You're just gonna avoid him for the rest of your life?" He scoffed.

"That, or until they catch those idiots. Honestly, whichever comes first." Tony shrugged, masking the obvious tensions that were building inside of him at the topic of conversation. The twitching in his fingers and the burning pain in his left arm were a dead giveaway, however.

"Goddamn it, Tony." The colonel cursed. "This isn't something that you can just ignore and hope that it goes away. This is serious. This is national secutiry we're talking about here and-"

Tony groaned and rolled his eyes as he flipped his head back. "Oh, don't give me that! That's-"

"What!? What is it, Tony! What?!"

"That's bullshit!"

"Why?" Rhodes snapped, more infuriated with the man than with the actual words coming from his mouth. "Are you denying that they're dangerous, that they're criminals, that they broke the law?"

"No! God, fuck - that's n- that's not what I'm saying!" Tony growled, brushing a hand over his forehead as he tightly shut his eyes, a growing pressure building up behind his eyes. He gritted his teeth together as the pressure steadily turned into a harsh thumping.

"Then what are you saying, Tony?" Pepper finally chimed in, placing an appeasing hand on Rhodey's shoulder as she gestured for him to take a breath, interfering before things could get out of hand. "Because to me, it sounds like you're avoiding this because..." She trailed off for a moment, eyes shifting slightly in her uncertainty before continuing. "...because you don't want them to be caught."

"Oh, for the love of-" The billionaire groaned.

"Why is Natasha still here, then?" Rhodey countered. "You have the capabilities. You have the tech, the resources. You know they're near. You know they're close. One search. One...and you could get them off your back for the rest of your life. No Ross. No Rogues. Done." The man explained, ignoring the bitter taste the words left in his mouth. He quickly dismissed it in favor of gauging his best friend's reaction.

Tony said nothing. He simply stared hard at the surface of his desk and shook his head, lips pressed into a firm line. The twinging in his arm made him squeeze his eyes shut once more as his head gave another loud throb.

Pepper carefully leaned forward, her movements slow and precise, almost as if she were dealing with a wild animal. "Tony...please think carefully about this. Once Ross gets sick of all those dead ends, he's...he's gonna come for you." She breathed. "You'll be his next target."

Tony continued to shake his head, the pain he was feeling now beginning to show on his face as he grimaced, barely even registering the woman's words. "No...n-no...I sign...I signed those Accords." He said softly, his voice breathy and distracted as he sucked in a breath through his teeth, gripping his forearm tightly.

"Yeah, you did." Rhodey sighed. "But Ross will find a way to turn this around, to claim that you're obstructing justice, breaking the regulations." The man leaned forward, willing his friend to take in the gravity of his words. "He'll come after you, Tones."

For a moment, the billionaire said nothing, rubbing his forearm in a pointless attempt to quell the soreness. He lowered his head, realizing the file from before was still sitting in his lap. His eyes traveled over the heading on the folder before his brows knitted together, his face hardening as he grabbed the file and stood up from his seat.

He angrily threw the folder down onto the desk, a loud slap reaching their ears as he glared back at them. "He'll try." He finally growled out before stepping away from his desk and brushing past the others.

"Where are you going?" Pepper asked, her exasperated tone making Tony's fingers twitch once more.

"Out." He called over his shoulder, never even breaking his stride as he made for the elevator.

Rhodey narrowed his eyes. "Tony-" He warned, only for the other man to cut him off. "What?! I'm taking your advice. You're the ones who said I shouldn't stay cooped up in this damn tower all day!" The words bounced off the walls as the man disappeared behind the corner.

The colonel let out a frustrated grunt while Pepper ran a hand down her face, her head slowly swiveling towards the desk, Rhodey's doing the same as they caught sight of the name on the file that had been in the billionaire's lap moments earlier.

Peter B. Parker

 

---

 

Saturday - April 2, 2016

Midtown East - 42nd Street

07:54 p.m.

His hands gripped the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles were ashen white. He could hear the sound of the leather material squeaking as he squeezed, hands shaking under the extreme duress of his death grip.

The sound of the engine roared around him as he felt the revving of the car while it sped down the street. Lights from the tall buildings around him flared before his eyes, flashing brightly with neon yellows, greens and pinks bright enough to rival the sun. Shooting past, they all blurred into bright lines that whisked past his line of sight.

He could feel the tenseness of his jaw as he clenched his teeth and tried to resist from banging his palm against the dashboard. His tight grip allowed him to feel the blood flowing around inside his hands, the sound of his heart beating making his ears ring. He pushed his foot down harder on the pedal as the car sped up another notch.

Where he was going? He didn't know, nor did he care.

Tony grimaced slightly as he felt the usual twinge of his arm flaring back at him, but he chose to ignore it, focusing back on the road ahead of him, which was now slick and shining with the rain falling around him.

The sky was pitch black, large dark clouds concealed in its inky depths as thick grey raindrops fell, clinging to everything in dark black stains as the streets, the buildings and the surrounding cars were all coated in a glossy shine. The streets around them were milling with multicolored umbrellas, only adding to the wave of color that filled the city at night.

But the billionaire was a bit too preoccupied to really notice.

His fingers tapped angrily on the rim of the steering while as he drove along the road, silently conveying the anger radiating off of the man in vibrant waves. The echoing voices of his friends bounced off of his ears, making his grip tighten as he gritted his teeth and glared out the side windows for a moment, taking in the steady stream of cars whisking past him before focusing straight on once more.

It wasn't that they weren't right.

That was the first thing Tony came to realize as he drove, the melodic humming of the car underneath him lulling him into a mindscape of silence and self-reflection that only made his hands tighten and his muscles tense. Everything that they'd said had made sense. All of it. And he knew that. He knew it as they'd said it and he knew it now.

But hearing reality from someone else was as pointless as telling it to himself, so he didn't bother in listening anymore. He knew how dangerous it was to keep messing with Ross, the Secretary of State, someone with the power to change the Accords at a moments notice just to screw with his life.

Still, that didn't change the fact that Tony could barely stand the man, let alone cooperate with him.

Throughout his life, Tony Stark had developed an impressive skill of letting people he didn't like know such a fact without him ever having to say it. Whether it was through snarky comments, underhanded acts of pettiness or some other show of superiority. If he didn't like you, you and everyone around you knew it.

Yet, despite what some would rather believe, Tony didn't just go around disliking people for no reason. Whether it was a valid reason was up for debate, but the point still stood. If Tony Stark didn't like you, then there was an explanation for it.

And his reasons for hating Ross were primo.

He'd met dozens of assholes who'd rubbed him the wrong way, but Ross just seemed to have a funny way of doing it that made the billionaire want to blast that mustache right off of his idiot face. It was as if the secretary wasn't even trying to hide the fact that he enjoyed watching Tony squirm.

Not only that, but Ross had been on Tony's radar before the Accords were even an idea. He'd had tabs on the man ever since he'd learned of his interest in capturing the Hulk. And ever since Tony had become great friends with the alter-ego of said Hulk, Ross quickly turned into a man he'd rather not see or hear from on a daily basis.

But nothing took the cake more than the fact that the Accords and the shitstorm that came with them all circled back to Ross.

Now, Tony knew that it wasn't just the mustached-douchebag that had drummed up those damn papers. No, over a hundred countries had agreed to them, and the billionaire had to admit that he had too. In fact, he still did. And he was sure he could have gotten the other Avengers to agree to it as well.

If it hadn't been for Ross.

Ever since Thor and Captain America had shown up on the ranks alongside the already loose Hulk, Tony could tell that Ross had quickly taken a dislike to..."enhanced individuals", which meant the creation of the Avengers hadn't necessarily been his favorite development. Now, SHIELD and Fury had taken it upon themselves to act as their makeshift government liaison as their team had begun to form and their bonds had begun to knit together, meaning that Ross and his little schemes had never been able to get through to them.

Or course, once SHIELD fell, the floodgates were opened.

Tony had known it was only a matter of time before their actions caught up with them and the consequences were held over their heads, but the fact that it was Ross dangling them had not helped convince the others of the benefits of the Accords. All they'd seen was someone like Ross pushing a new agenda onto them.

And the billionaire just knew that Ross relished in the divide that the Accords had sliced into the Avengers, so much so that he did nothing to mend it. He only added to the fire, digging his hands into the wound and ripping it apart even more until Tony had no choice but to go after the Avengers himself, to follow Ross's orders and try to save his family before they were slaughtered by the very government that was supposed to be on their side. And it wasn't like they could fully fight back. After all, those were good men on those teams. Men who were just following orders.

There were no bad guys in a situation like that. No justification for killing. They would have been cornered. So Tony had bitten the bullet and agreed to catch his teammates himself, to try and give them one last out before Ross had his way with them.

And they all knew how well that turned out.

Tony yanked roughly on the wheel as he turned down another lane, the tires skidding against the slick roadways.

Now, the billionaire in no sense of the matter excused the Rogue Avengers for what they had done. They'd made a choice and now they'd have to live with the consequences of said choice. But...but he knew deep down that the breaking up of the Avengers could have been avoided. It could have been avoided if Rogers had gotten his head out of his ass and decided to do something smart for once. It could have been avoided if those idiots had listened to him at the airport. And it could have been avoided if Ross had butted out and let them deal with one another themselves without the overhanging threat of a kill squad coming in to obliterate half of the team.

A flash of red above his head had the man resting his foot against the brakes as the car came to a stop at the red light. He somehow managed to unhook his hands from the steering wheel as he pinched the bridge of his nose and rubbed his face as a long tired sigh bubbled past his lips. No...he would never take orders from Ross again.

Cause the last time he did . . . . it cost him his family.

For a moment, all he did was sit there, feeling the coarseness of his calloused fingers rubbing against his face as he felt the oncoming throbs of a blooming headache spreading along the back of his head. With a small breath, the man lifted his head back up, watching the people milling the street pass over the crosswalk in front of his car.

The billionaire was glad that even in his fury of exiting the tower, he'd been aware enough to take his most inconspicuous car. The last thing he needed right now was some paparazzi mob harassing him, especially when there was a high chance of him punching somebody out at the moment.

However, as his tired eyes glazed over the crowd, he couldn't help but catch sight of a figure weaving through the crowd. Normally, Tony doubted he would have picked him out at all, but considering he was the only person walking with no umbrella, it made him pretty noteworthy.

The man couldn't help but scoff as he watched the figure, which he could assume was a teenager from the short stature, mill between people while looking very much like a drowned rat, complete with two armfuls full of groceries.

"What an idiot..." He muttered to himself with a smirk and a roll of his eyes, only to pause as he took in a better look of the figure, which...now that he was really looking at him...was incredibly skinny...with pale white skin and a mop of brown hair...

The billionaire leaned forward as he squinted his eyes and tried to take in as much of the "stranger" as possible. "That can't be..." He murmured to himself, the words dying as the figure twisted around and exposed his face towards Tony's car. A face with unnaturally-bright brown eyes.

The man squinted his eyes shut and let out a very long sigh. "Shit, that's my idiot." He groaned to himself as he watched Peter finish crossing the street and disappear around one of the building corners.

Watching as the last of the pedestrians finished crossing the street, Tony pressed his foot on the gas and rounded the same corner, quickly catching sight of the boy as he walked, sticking as close to the edges of the buildings as possible, as if he were trying to cover himself with the small concrete outcroppings. Though considering how he looked like the victim of a drowning attempt, it was safe to say he wasn't succeeding.

The teen hoisted two grocery bags in his arms, which seemed to be filled to the brim if the bulging of the paper bags was any indication. For a moment, Tony just sat their, the car pulled off to the side of the road as he watched and wondered what the best course of action was. After all, it was Saturday, meaning Tony was the last person Peter would be expecting to see, let alone the last person to offer him a ride home. That made his chances of getting shot down much higher, knowing the teen would probably give some lame excuse and say he didn't wanna inconvenience him.

Besides, if the kid said he could handle himself, then who was Tony to disagree? Besides, with the mood he was in right now, the billionaire doubted it was a good idea to bring Peter into the mix with the threat of saying something insensitive to the teen. The last thing he wanted was to take a step back in the progress they were making.

A loud roll of thunder clapped overhead, Peter jumping slightly as he hugged his body against the building wall for a moment, his form tense and uptight.

Tony watched for another moment before making up his mind. It was best to just leave the kid be. It wouldn't do either of them any favors to jeopardize the slow progress they were making. And throwing their little routine off balance might do just that. It was only logical.

That was that.

Leave the kid be.

Drive off.

. . . .

. . . .

His tires screeched as he sped up and quickly caught up to the teen, his passenger window rolling down even faster.

God dammit...

Peter quickly spun around at the loud noise, dripping face scrunching in slight confusion as he watched the car pull up. However, his eyes quickly widened as he caught sight of who was driving.

"Amazing who you run into on the streets these days, huh?"

"M-Mr. Stark?"

"Yeah. Hi. So are you enjoying your afternoon stroll? You know, I hear they can be incredibly relaxing, especially when you're not encumbered by useless things like...umbrellas...and working immune systems."

"Mr. Stark?"

Yeah, two for two, kid. Anyway, correct me if I'm wrong but I'm almost 75% certain that walking around in the pouring rain when it's fifty degrees out perhaps isn't the best idea you've come up with."

The teen couldn't do more than stutter for a moment as he tried to process whether or not the person in front of him really was Tony Stark?

"We gonna make it three for three? Here, I'll save you the trouble. Yes, it is me, Tony Stark."

He certainly sounded like Mr. Stark.

"I...w-what...what are you...doing here?" The teen was finally able to choke out, now unconsciously trying to hide the shivers traveling up and down his body. The billionaire cocked a brow as he simply looked the teen up and down.

Apparently it was enough for Peter to get the message of 'I could ask you the same thing' as he let out a nervous chuckle and shifted his feet, stealing a small glance at the covered tarp-overhang he was inching towards. "Ah, just...p-picking up some g-groceries." He chuckled uneasily.

Tony noticed the slight stutter, but he was willing to bet it was more from the cold than anything else. "Uh-huh. And...you decided that the middle of a hurricane is the perfect time for you to get all excited about the Buy One Get One 25% off Cheetos or something?"

Peter gently tilted his head side to side in thought, something Tony was quickly picking up as another one of the boy's quirks.

"Actually, a storm like this wouldn't really be considered a hurricane considering the top wind speeds haven't topped the minimum for just a Category One storm and it's actually not all that uncommon for people to be out and about in weather like this cause it usually means the lines at the more commonly traversed places like malls and stores aren't as crowded as they usually are so people aren't as bothered by the huge swarms of people and can just slip in and out relatively faster than they usually can on a day with more calmer weather patterns and-"

He stopped as a small crumpled-up gum wrapper was thrown at his nose, harmlessly bouncing off before falling to his feet. However, it did the job of effectively shutting him up.

He stared at it for a moment before turning back up to look at Mr. Stark, who was shaking his head and pinching the bridge of his nose once more. "Kid, you're killing me here. All I'm asking is why you're out here at this particular time of night in this particular type of weather. Isn't there a better time to be doing grocery shopping? And don't give me the statistics. Cause I know for a fact that anyone crazy enough to be out here willingly would at least have a small semblance of sense to bring an umbrella."

Peter quickly seemed to tense for a moment before falling limp once more, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly. "I d-didn't know it was gonna rain. Besides, today's Grocery Day. Meaning I need to get groceries today. Not tomorrow. Not the day after that. Today. Dad's orders." He added with a small smile and a shrug.

Judging from the look Tony gave him, it didn't have the effect he'd hoped for. He scuffed the toe of his shoe against the puddle pooling at his feet as he finally found a slight reprieve from the pouring rain as he stepped underneath the overhang he'd been eyeing before. However, without the continuous stream of rain pouring down onto him, he was finally able to feel just how soaked he truly was.

"Look, I wouldn't be out here if I didn't have to be, alright?" He muttered, glaring down at the ground as he felt his cheeks begin to grow warm underneath the scrutinizing stare of the billionaire before him. His fingers curled slightly behind his back as he prayed the man would just accept his answer and drive off.

Tony remained silent for a moment before cocking a brow. "Mm-hmm. And just where is your father, exactly?"

Peter shrugged. "Said something about business. I don't know. I'm not supposed to - I didn't ask." He faltered slightly before correcting himself, hoping Mr. Stark hadn't picked up on his slip.

If the billionaire caught his trip up, he didn't let it on as he glanced away and pressed his tongue to the side of his mouth. "So, nobody's expecting you home right now?"

The kid shook his head. "Nobody'd be there to notice." He explained. "Which I g-guess is a blessing. I can only imagine what the Cons would say if they saw me like this." He muttered with a roll of his eyes as he gestured to his soaking form, already imaging their laughs echoing in his head.

The man stared at him for a moment longer, taking in his waterlogged figure and shivering frame as droplets of water splashed down onto his papery-white nose, which only made his tawny eyes stand out even more. Finally, after a second of hesitation, the billionaire let out a long, exasperated sigh before leaning over towards the passenger side and throwing open the door.

"Get in."

Peter faltered slightly at that, cocking his head as strands of hair pressed against his forehead. "W-what?"

"We're closer to the tower than we are to your house and - why is that? Aren't there a ton of grocery stores near your house?" The man asked with a tone of confusion.

The teen shrugged his shoulders. "The stores near my house d-don't have the kind of beer the C-Cons like and-"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! How are you getting your hands on alcohol when you literally look like a ten-year-old?" The billionaire gaped, ignoring the indignant look Peter threw his way.

Choosing to ignore the remark, Peter huffed slightly. "I k-know the store owner out here. He knows how to keep a secret."

Tony couldn't help but scoff in disbelief as he shook his head and ran a hand down his face. Peter rubbed his arm slightly, the grocery bags jostling as he did so, unsure of if he'd made the man angry or not.

"Okay, I...whatever, just get in the frikkin car."

The teen shook his head, face growing distressed. "You r-really don't have to do that, Mr. Stark. I'm fine w-walking home."

"It's a thirty-minute walk." The man deadpanned.

"Not . . . .if I ignore the crosswalks and all safety precautions?"

They exchanged silent looks for a moment before Tony shook his head. "Nuh-uh, get in."

"Thank you, really. B-but I swear I'll be fine." Peter started, only to sigh as Tony cut him off once more.

"If by fine you mean great at catching pneumonia, then yeah. You're super. In. Now."

"R-really, it's alright."

"It's really not."

"I don't w-wanna...ruin the seats in your car."

"I literally have five of the exact same car, all in different colors."

"I...geez, you have way too much money."

"Eh."

The exchange swapped back and forth a few more times before Tony slammed his hand down on the steering wheel. "Damn it, kid! Just...get in the frikkin car! You're holding up traffic!"

Peter cocked a brow and craned his neck to look behind the car, taking note of the empty street before glancing back at the man. "You know what I mean. Just get in the car before I drag you in here myself."

"I think that technically counts as kidnapping, Mr. Stark."

"Peter, you're soaked to the bone."

The teen, in a rare feat of frustration, shook the bags in his hands and lightly stomped the ground before him with his foot. "Mr. Stark, I appreciate the offer. Really I do. But I'm perfectly capable of walking home by myself. Besides I-"

Before he could finish his statement, a loud ripping sound was heard as the tarp-covered overhang above his head finally gave way underneath the pressure of the water it was holding, releasing a torrent of rushing water flooding overtop Peter's head like a waterfall holding gallons of water.

Tony said nothing as he watched the scene unfold, merely rested his cheek against a propped up fist and enjoyed with a relaxed smile on his face.

As the water finally emptied out, Peter stood still in his place, fists still tightly gripping the grocery bags as if his life depended on it as his face held a look of annoyance and resignation. "- couldn't possibly get any wetter." He finally finished with a strained voice.

Without another word, the teen trudged over to the open car door, socks squeaking at the water filling his shoes as he sat down in the plush leather seats, dropped the grocery bags onto the floor and slammed the car door shut, not even bothering in feeling nervous as his body was filled with nothing but annoyance.

Tony couldn't wipe the smirk off of his face as he reached behind him and grabbed a spare towel he kept in the back for emergencies, throwing it over towards the teen, who caught it without even looking up. "Thanks." He murmured softly as he began to scrub his face, only to pause as Tony reached into the back seats once more and pulled out a small pink cocktail umbrella, opening it up with his thumb and forefinger before handing it over to Peter.

"Never wanna be caught unprepared."

"What? For rain or surprise cocktails?"

"Either."

"Why do you even have this?"

"You have no idea the things this car has seen, kid. Trust me, you don't wanna know."

"Noted."

With that, the car began to speed off towards the tower, now with two passengers in tow.

The rain had lightened slightly to the point where you could actually see the road in front of you. The thick drops of water continuously streamed overtop the windows and windshield as the car sped down the road, the soft hum of the engine mingling with the gentle lull of the heater, which helped make the car warm and toasty inside.

Peter tapped his fingers against his knee as he stared out the window, chin propped up on his fist as he lazily watched the cars and pedestrians passing by on the street. He could feel the warmth of the heater blowing hot air around him, slowly drying his soaked clothes and dripping hair until they were left damp and slightly uncomfortable as they stuck to his skin, but much dryer than when he'd first entered the car, which he was grateful for.

However, the uncomfortableness of his clothes mirrored the uncomfortableness he was beginning to feel inside.

He'd resisted the urge to steal glances at Mr. Stark throughout the ride, keeping his eyes locked onto the raindrops sliding down his window, but he could almost feel the man looking at him from time to time, scanning him, observing him. It made his skin prick up and his hands curl slightly into the hem of his shirt.

He hadn't been expecting to run into the man today. Usually, he was able to plan out a little more before they met, their scheduled meetings allowing him to do just this. Running scenarios in his head usually helped him ensure that he wouldn't slip up whenever he talked to the billionaire, a tick he revealed whenever he was frazzled, say...like walking home alone in the pouring rain.

At least when he was prepared, he was...ready to meet the man. Assured slightly of their interaction and the confidence that he woudn't slip up and reveal something he wasn't supposed to.

At least when he was prepared, he knew not to let his guard down.

This, however, was an entirely different story. There had been no planning. No internal debates and monologues. This had been sudden. Unexpected. Unprepared. He had no plan. No backup plan. No backup to the backup plan. He had nothing. He was just a kid sitting in the car of a man who threatened everything he'd been hiding and working to perfect for almost ten years now.

However, as he sat there and absentmindedly counted the raindrops as they appeared on his window, he couldn't help but think that maybe his nervousness came from something else. That maybe it wasn't just the threat of spilling something he wasn't supposed to that had him all jittery. That maybe...it was the threat of jeopardizing their progress.

Peter wasn't an idiot. He knew that Mr. Stark was trying to get him to open up, trying to get him to ease and warm up to him. Why? He had no idea. He was still trying to figure out why the billionaire even wanted him around, let along wanted him to relax around him. But, the teen would be lying if he said it wasn't working.

He could see it in the way he walked, lifting his head more instead of tucking his chin near his chest. He could see it in the way he spoke, not tripping over his words as much around the billionaire as with other people. He could see it in the way he acted, smiling and laughing without restraint, checking and correcting himself on a much smaller scale compared to when he was home.

He was...changing. And that was dangerous.

And he knew this. He knew it was dangerous just as he knew it was dangerous to stay so close to May. And yet, with every joke he laughed at, every invention they brainstormed together, every...meeting they had, Peter found himself craving their interactions just a little bit more each and every time.

So maybe that was why he was so nervous about interacting with the man without any sort of plan or preparation. Because the more he left it up to change, the higher the risk of saying something stupid or doing something dumb that made Mr. Stark realize just how useless it was keeping him around.

Without a plan, he ran a risk of jeopardizing their progress.

Not able to restrain himself any longer, the teen stole a small peek at the man sitting across from him. Tony hadn't said anything since he'd entered the car, simply keeping one lazy hand on the wheel as he rested the other one on the side of his door, resting a cheek against his fist in a similar fashion to the teen.

Peter stared at him for a moment longer before lowering his gaze to stare down into his lap.

Whatever you do, Parker. DON'T blow this... cause it's the only thing going right in your life right now.

Tony glanced over at the boy right as he turned away and stared down at his lap. The billionaire noticed the tenseness of his hands and the stiffness in his shoulders and tried to suppress a sigh. He hadn't even said anything yet and the kid was already nervous.

Having decided it would be best to keep the car ride quiet to avoid any awkward conversations they couldn't escape from seeing as how they were both in a moving vehicle and he really didn't feel like jumping out of a window anytime soon, Tony silently listened to the raindrops splatter onto the roof of his car, tiny drumbeats rhythmically dancing around the metal.

Resisting the urge to glance back at the kid next to him, he decided to try and take his mind off of him as well.

Pepper and Rhodey probably wouldn't be expecting him back so soon after he'd stormed off, so they'd probably have the penthouse to themselves. He supposed this little meeting had its silver linings considering Pepper and Rhodes would refrain from lecturing him anymore tonight while Peter was around.

The raindrops began to fall harder as Tony started to devise up an impromptu plan.

The kid was still pretty...drippy so he'd grab him some dry clothes (considering how small the teen was, they probably wouldn't fit him well but dry was dry) and maybe force him to eat something before getting Happy to drive him back home.

Short and sweet. Right to the point. After all, that was all he really needed to do. Dry him up, get him food, then send him on his way. Hopefully, he'd be able to fulfill that plan better than his previous failed plan twenty minutes ago, which had resulted in a soaking teen ruining the seats in his car.

The rest of the ride was completed in silence, neither party wanting to stir up the already tense air between them. Instead, they simply listened to the soundtrack that was the rainstorm currently showering down around them. The clouds overhead had begun to fade into the background of the already deepening sky now that the sun had officially gone down and nighttime was stretching over the skies. Black melded with black and the atmosphere above resembled a pool of spilled tar with swirls of dark grey that slashed and twisted between each other in intricate dances.

The rain hissed in the air as the car drove past, water splashing up along the sidewalks, the storefronts, the windows. Thick black drops clinging to everything like spilled ink dripping from a pen made the city around them dark and bleak with rare sheens of light from the water-slicked metal surfaces reflecting the lights of Town Square behind them.

The wavering atmosphere and dark undertones seemed to fill their senses to a degree so high that Tony barely even realized when they were approaching the tower, nearly missing his turn.

Nevertheless, the car quickly pulled into the tower's pathway, the restricted gates automatically opening from the sensors on his car as he quickly sped past, the telltale electric hum behind him notifying him that the blocker had once again been activated as they'd passed. With that, they pulled around towards the back side of the tower, dipping down onto the path towards the parking garage.

As they approached a covered awning that led to the garage, the pouring rain suddenly ceased as they reached cover, the thick silence quickly muffling their ears in a stark contrast to the pounding hissing from before.

Quickly pulling into his usual parking spot, Tony quickly shut off the engine, the car falling silent once more. Peter, who seemed to have been zoning out for most of the ride, jumped as Tony opened the door and stepped out of the car, the teen quickly fumbling with the handle as he did the same.

Now that he was moving again, the teen was annoyingly aware of just how damp and uncomfortable his clothes still were, shivering slightly at the cool atmosphere of the underground garage. Eyes falling on the billionaire as he walked past, Peter fell into line behind him.

Making their way over towards the elevator near the back of the garage, Tony moved to the side and allowed the younger charge into the elevator before stepping in himself, the doors closing behind them.

"Take us up to the penthouse, Fri." Tony called, the elevator humming to life without a sound, the AI quickly doing as she was told with no hesitation.

Peter said nothing as he shuffled slightly from one foot to the other, casually trying to wrap his arms around himself as to not let Mr. Stark notice while also trying to gain a little bit of warmth back into the air-conditioned space.

Despite his best efforts to conceal it, Tony obviously took notice of the teen's shivering, for it wasn't even a second latter before he called out once more. "And cut the air conditioning while you're at it, Fri."

"Yes, boss."

Peter cast the man a meek glance but quickly looked back down towards the floor, deciding it best to just keep his mouth shut. It was safer that way, he told himself as he simply stared at his shoes, the toes scuffing against the metal floor.

If Tony caught on to the teen's nervousness, he said nothing about it, which Peter was grateful for.

After another minute or so, the elevator slowed to a stop before the doors opened onto a floor that Peter now recognized as the floor Tony had brought him to on Wednesday, everything looking exactly the same.

Tony wasted no time in stepping out of the elevator, Peter quickly following after him. He jolted to a stop, however, when the man whirled around to face him. "Hold up here for a sec, kid. I'll be right back." He murmured, the teen staring at him for a second before nodding his head, watching as the man turned on his heel and disappeared down the hallway next to the kitchen, leaving Peter along in the grand room.

For a moment, the teen simply stood there, unsure as to whether or not he was allowed to walk around the penthouse floor. Considering he'd already bee up here before, he could very well assume he was. Then again, Mr. Stark had been present then, so maybe the man didn't want him snooping without him to supervise where he did and didn't stick his nose.

Nevertheless, Peter couldn't help but let his curiosity get the best of him as his eyes caught sight of the large glass walls exposing the city below them. His shoes squelched against the cold floor below as he walked over, peering out of the transparent walls and down towards the street below.

The rain hadn't let up on their drive. If anything, it was coming down harder than before. The sky above looked like the world below was on fire and all of the ash and smoke had caught in the atmosphere, shrouding the land in complete darkness, save for a few swirled of dark grey clouds and deep blue trails. The rain splattered hard against the glass, thick drops sliding down, mingling together before falling back down towards the Earth in large sheets of water.

Peter's bright hazel eyes drifted upwards as he caught sight of a bright flash of light that split the sky, crackling to life as it illuminated the clouds and sparked through the air like sparklers shining in the night before it instantly disappeared as quickly as it'd come.

The teen tore his gaze away after a second, turning to take in the penthouse once more, only to jump and let out a small yelp as a clap of thunder shook the floor and tore at his eardrums, the entire tower seeming to quake at the full force of the explosion-like cacophony.

Peter stumbled backwards and gripped the nearby couch, fingers curling tightly into the material as his wide eyes stared out towards the window, watching the raindrops continue to pound against the glass like wild animals clawing at their cages, desperate the reach the inhabitants on the other side. He panted slightly, breathy gasps dribbling from his lips as he tried to get his frantic heartbeat under control.

Another roll of thunder cracked through the atmosphere, Peter flinching violently at the sound.

It's...it's just thunder. It's just thunder.

He repeated the mantra to himself as he rubbed circles into the back of his hand, determined to calm himself from his ridiculous panic. Still, it was hard not to envision the telltale crack of gunshots in his mind as another bang rattled around the tower. Nevertheless, he couldn't let Mr. Stark see how childish he was being. So the teen quickly sucked in a breath, shut his eyes tightly as another roll of thunder sounded, and forced himself to release his grip on the couch.

You're fine. Everything's okay.

"Shh, shh, shh, baby. It's okay. Everything's going to be okay."

Peter couldn't help but let out a small sigh at that as he finally opened his eyes once more, folding his arms protectively over his chest as he seemed to deflate, sliding down to sit on the ground with his back leaning against the couch.

He'd been afraid of thunder every since he was four-years-old.

Suddenly feeling more more exhausted than he had been before, Peter shut his eyes and rested his head on his knees, muscles coiling with each crack of thunder that rolled past, though he continued to keep his breathing under control.

Tony watched from the corner of the room, his shoulder pressing into the side of the wall as he stood, half-concealed in the hallway. He stared at the boy, who tensed and curled in tighter with each roll of thunder, looking absolutely miserable, his soaked appearance not helping in the slightest.

The billionaire couldn't help but sigh at the sight, running a hand down his face as he suddenly felt just as tired as Peter looked to be. For about the hundredth time since he'd decided to make the kid his intern, Tony once again wondered what he'd gotten himself into as he rounded the corner and approached the teen.

He fully expected Peter to bolt to his feet and act like he'd never even moved from his original spot in the first place. However, he was genuinely surprised when the teen did nothing but wearily lift his head, eyes heavy and dull as he stared up at the billionaire.

For a moment, the two did nothing. They simply stared at one another, drinking in the looks on each other's faces. Their eyes, similar in color, held so many differences. One's weak and faded, pain and anguish flowing through the hazel irises while the other held emptiness, loneliness, a missing elements of sorts. Something that had once been there, but was now gone.

Unable to bear the reflections they saw in each other, they turned away, Tony extending out a sweater towards the boy. Peter hesitated for a moment before taking the article of clothing, a soft murmur of gratitude falling from his lips as Tony directed him towards the nearest bathroom so he could change.

The boy's retreating footsteps echoed softly throughout the room, painfully reminding Tony of the emptiness that was once a full and bustling tower. Glancing over at the rain sliding down his windows, the man trudged over to the kitchen and plopped down in one of the chairs, resting an elbow on the counter as he placed his head into the palm of one of his hands.

The dreary weather outside perfectly matched the storm brewing inside of him. Today had been nothing but one shitty thing after another. Getting hounded by Ross, lectured by Pepper and Rhodey, and now Peter, as if today hadn't been enough of a roller coaster.

As he thought back to it, Tony couldn't help but drift back over Ross, his argument with the others echoing in the back of his mind like the soft footsteps around the tower.

It wasn't over. Not by a long shot. Ross was used to getting what he wanted. So the longer Tony refused him, the angrier and more desperate he'd become. But still, was it worth giving into Ross's demands? Doing his dirty work? Getting him involved with the people around him?

He froze at that last thought. There weren't many people around him at all nowadays. Mainly just Pepper and Rhodey. Happy usually got dragged into whatever they'd do and Vision...well, Tony didn't know if the android was even in the states. He assumed not. He didn't really ask too many questions. The android never really gave too many answers.

But still, if today's recent encounters had taught him anything, it was that his list of people had just expanded, cause now he had Peter. Now, he knew that Pepper could hold her own against even the scariest bureaucrats, and Rhodey was a pro at handling the politics and lawmakers nowadays. But Peter? Peter was just a kid. A kid who was involved with him now.

That already put the teen at a disadvantage.

Still, it made Tony realize that with Ross came the threat of having the Secretary closer. Having him snoop. Having his watchful eye on him and those around him, including Peter.

The man dwelled on the thought for a moment longer before quickly resolving himself to a decision.

He couldn't do it. He couldn't help Ross. Not because it'd mean stepping off of his pedestal and falling under the orders of another. Not because it threatened the safety of his ex-teammates. Not even because he absolutely despised the man with every fiber in his being.

But because he couldn't put Peter in danger like that. He refused to. Ross would have to fight him tooth and nail just to get a glimpse of the kid. And even then, Tony would never budge. Cause Ross had already messed with him, messed with his friends, his family.

But he wasn't getting Peter. He refused to give him the satisfaction.

Before Tony could question why he was fighting so hard for a kid he'd only known for a short time, Peter returned.

A large AC-DC logo was plastered onto the front of the large black sweater, the dark color only making the usual paleness of the teen stand out even more, save for the light flush of pink around his nose and cheeks. However, the sweater was obviously made for someone much bigger than him, for it drooped past his waist and swallowed his hands, the sleeves extending out past his fingertips, the fabric flopping around with each move of his arms.

Tony couldn't help but let out a snicker at the sight of the boy, who now looked to be even younger than usual, if such a thing were even possible. "Geez, kid. You look like you should be selling cookies for Cub Scouts or something."

Peter couldn't help but scrunch his nose at that, the look losing much of its intimidation as he flopped the sleeves of the sweater around. "You're the one that gave me the sweater that looks like it was made for the Hulk."

"You're warm, aren't you?"

"Yeah, a warm Cub Scout."

Tony scoffed in amusement before beckoning the teen over, Peter slowly making his way over as the billionaire hopped off of the stool and Peter replaced him. The man moved to enter the kitchen before turning back towards the kid. "Now, I'm not much of a betting man, mainly cause I've been banned from nearly all the casinos in Vegas, but I think I'm safe to assume that you haven't eaten anything recently, hmm?

Peter opened his mouth, only to pause as his stomach gave a loud gurgle. Tony cocked a brow while Peter gave a nervous chuckle and rubbed the back of his neck. "I...I was gonna eat s-something when I got home." (He knows you're lying.)

"Right. Well, what'll it be, kid?" The man asked, ignoring the fact that feeding this kid now seemed to be a regular thing. Whatever. He had food to spare. He had a lot to spare.

Peter thought about it for a moment, seeming to only hesitate slightly before answering with a tilt of his head, brown curls draping to the side. "Do you have any cereal?"

Tony furrowed his brows at that and leaned towards the kid as he rested his elbow on the counter. "Cereal? Really? You...do know I'm a billionaire right? Not even, like, gourmet cereal?"

Peter let out a small laugh before shaking his head. Tony blew out a sigh and shrugged his shoulders. "Whatever you say, kid," he mused before heading over to the clouded doors near the back of the kitchen. Knocking his fist against the glass, the clouded effect instantly dissipated, leaving clear glass that allowed him to see inside of the large space.

Seeming to find what he was looking for, Tony opened the door and grabbed a few boxes from the upper shelves of the pantry, shutting the door with the back of his foot as he dropped the boxes in front of the sitting teen. Grabbing a few bowls and a couple of spoons, he returned and watched as Peter inspected the boxes for a moment before grabbing the Coco Puffs.

Pouring himself a bowl, Peter couldn't help but let out a small chuckle. Tony looked up and threw him a look. "What?"

The teen shook his head. "Nothing. It's just..." He trailed off for a moment unsure as to whether or not he should continue before shrugging. "...I wouldn't have expected someone like you to have Coco Puffs and Fruity Pebbles in their pantry."

Tony couldn't help but huff in amusement at that before roughly jerking the box of Fruity Pebbles into his hand. "What? Just cause I'm a billionaire means I can't like Fruity Pebbles. Their magically delicious, Peter!"

"That's Lucky Charms."

"Same difference!"

The teen laughed as he poured some milk into his bowl, sliding it over towards the man before stirring his spoon around in the liquid. Tony did the same before glancing back up towards the boy. "So." He plopped the milk carton back down onto the counter, Peter lifting his head to look at him. "What's with you and breakfast?"

The crack of thunder that rolled outside timed up perfectly with the teen as he tilted his head and furrowed his brows. "What do you mean?"

The billionaire shrugged as he stirred his cereal. "Well I'm just saying. For the last couple times you've been over here, it's been like a breakfast bar in a shitty hotel." He shrugged. "We even had a traumatic kitchen nightmare experience where breakfast was my doom and downfall." He pointed his spoon threateningly at the kid. "Thanks, by the way, for making me hate anything to do with eggs now."

Peter chuckled at that. He thought about the man's words for a moment, taking that time to place a spoonful of cereal into his mouth before swallowing. He tapped the spoon against the side of the bowl, a soft tinking sound reaching their ears before the boy finally responded.

"Back when I was little, w-we didn't really have a lot of money. P-Parkstem Labs hadn't really expanded into anything big so...b-basically we just kinda scrounged by." He explained, the billionaire across from him listening intently. "And considering we were kinda living from paycheck to paycheck, our pantry wasn't always...fully stocked."

He shrugged his shoulders, swirling the spoon in the cereal once more as another rumble of thunder echoed outside. "M-my mom would have to figure out how to make the best out of what we had, which was usually a few leftover eggs, some miscellaneous meats and tons and tons of beat-up discount cereal boxes."

"I-I was pretty young at the time so I didn't really notice that we'd constantly be having...like, breakfast for dinner or egg sandwiches or cereal buffets as my m-mom would call them." He chuckled. " She'd basically just line up all the boxes we had and pour me a little bit from each one, which now that I'm thinking about it...k-kinda seems a little gross."

"A little?" Tony echoed with skepticism, smirking as Peter let out a humored huff.

The billionaire couldn't help but grow just a little happier as he saw Peter's face crack into a grin as the teen laughed to himself. "You know, actually...n-now that I'm thinking about it...she'd do a lot of stuff like that. She'd dress t-the vacuum cleaner up like a monster and let me chase it around the house, she'd make little origami creatures and string them all around the house, she'd even make little forts with me in the k-kitchen using the dining room table." He chuckled.

Tony couldn't help but smile himself at the happiness spreading on the boy's face.

Peter continued to stare down at the swirling bowl of milk in front of him before letting out a small sigh and shrugging his shoulders. "It seems stupid now, I guess. I mean, breakfast had always been my favorite meal of the day and I love those little origami things and building forts is still the coolest thing so I guess it's c-cause of stuff like that, but...I don't know. Just d-doesn't seem like the type of thing you'd remember." He murmured. "Just seems...so small, like...like such a little thing."

He lowered his gaze. "But...I guess it's t-the little things I remember the most, you know?"

Tony stared at him for a moment, unsure as to how to respond. The boy didn't seem to want to say anything more, for he grabbed his spoon and lifted more cereal to his mouth, effectively shutting himself up.

The billionaire said nothing in return, too lost in his own thoughts to really put anything into words. For a moment, he simply stared down at the swirling flakes of cereal swimming in the bowl of milk on the counter. The soft clinking of metal spoons reached their ears, the only sound in the empty tower save for the pounding of rain on the windows and the occasional crack of thunder from outside that left low rumbles shivering throughout the kitchen.

"They were for the team."

Peter startled in his seat at the sudden words, lifting his head to stare at the billionaire. "What?"

Tony seemed to hesitate for a moment before giving a shrug of his shoulders, leaning back in his chair. "All those boxes of cereal...the only reason I have them is cause the other Avengers used to eat like, twenty boxes a week." He murmured with a shrug. "Figured I had to be stocked at all times. But nowadays, there aren't many people to finish them off." He twirled his spoon around. "So they just kinda sit there collecting dust."

Peter stared at the man for a moment. To anyone else, Tony would have seemed as indifferent as always, leaning back, posture relaxed, eyes watching the spoon and the trials it left in the milk. However, Peter noticed the small details. The slight tenseness in the man's shoulders. The way his fingers twitched ever so slightly. The tapping of his foot against the floor.

It was obvious the man was uncomfortable in sharing what he'd just shared.

So why had he? It wasn't like Peter had pressed him on it or anything. He'd shared it by his own volition, as if he'd made himself to it out of some sort of obligation. Despite the confusion the teen obviously felt on the subject, he couldn't help but be a bit curious. After all, it wasn't everyday that Mr. Stark brought up the Avengers, meaning such a topic was now open for discussion, if only for a moment.

"W-which Avenger would eat what?" His small voice chimed in.

Tony glanced up at him, drinking in his question. Peter was right in thinking that opening such a topic had been uncomfortable for the billionaire. In fact, it was about his least favorite subject nowadays right alongside the Accords and Ross. And yet, hearing the boy open up about his mother, a topic Tony was sure could he a definite sore spot for the boy in certain circumstances, Tony couldn't help but feel...obligated to share something as well. After all, if the boy could trust him enough to share something painful, then maybe Tony could as well.

Even if it was just cereal preferences.

With that thought in mind, the man smirked. "Well, Natasha, or Black Widow as more people know her by, would usually just stick to some black coffee. But there were days where I'd catch her with some Coco Puffs." He chuckled, Peter smiling across the counter. "Clint, or Hawkeye would usually fight over the Fruity Pebbles with Sam. Wanda, whenever she wasn't attempting to make biscuits that weren't burnt black would typically go for some Honey Nut Cheerios, and Thor, on the rare occasions he was here, loved eating Lucky Charms." The billionaire rolled his eyes. "He said something about them bringing him fortune throughout the day or some shit like that."

Peter couldn't help but laugh as the billionaire chuckled alongside him.

The teen quieted for a moment before glancing back up. "And Captain America?"

Tony paused at that, falling silent for a moment as his face fell neutral. Peter winced inwardly for a moment, fearing he might have stepped to far, only to let out a breath as Tony shrugged his shoulders. "Basically what you'd expect. An all-round stereotypical American breakfast: eggs, bacon, white toast, orange juice, and like thirty bowls of Frosted Flakes." He scoffed, Peter letting out a chuckle.

The billionaire let out a sigh of annoyance as he waved a hand in the air. "Yeah, well. Now I got like a hundred boxes of cereal with nobody to eat them." He muttered with a scoff that tried to convey more frustration than sadness.

Key word: tried

Peter was quick to pick up on this, however, as he paused for a moment before letting a smile slip onto his face. "Well, I don't know , Mr. Stark. I-I have a pretty big appetite, so I should be able to help you out there."

Tony stared at him for a moment before letting a small smile of his own pass over his face. "I'll hold you to that."

The two stared at each other for a second longer, each understanding the underlying messages passing between their words. Tony, not one for emotional moments, was quick in pulling away and clearing his throat. "Yeah, well, just steer clear of the Cinnamon Toast Crunch, alright? Pepper and Rhodey are still pissed about the whole 'Spider-Man not even being old enough to drive' thing. I'd hate to see what they'd do to me if I let you eat all their cereal."

"...what?"

Tony lifted his head at the small voice. "Huh?"

Peter stared back at the man, fingers twitching as his muscles coiled, eyes filling with dread and fear. "W-what did you say?" The boy whispered out, voice shaky and terse.

Tony, who was now reading the back of the Fruity Pebbles box let out a humored huff. "Alright, fine. I'll just buy some more Cinnamon Toast Crunch if you're so set on it. But honestly, I don't know what you guys see in that tasteless garb-"

"N-no, no. W...what was t-that you said a-about P-Pepper...and Rhodey...a-and..." Tony finally looked up as he caught wind of the boy's stuttering response, such a thing never a good sign. Neither was the fact that the boy's face held a look of resigned terror.

"T-they...they know? They know I'm Spider-Man?" (I told you.)

The man stared back at Peter for a moment, masking the unsettled feelings passing over him at the looks on the teen's face by shrugging his shoulder and hoping his calm demeanor would somehow reflect off of the boy. "Just the stuff I told them and-"

He didn't get to finish as Peter let out an audible choke of air. "G-god, you-" He stuttered, hands curling into fists as he stared with wide, fear-filled eyes. He licked his lips, a small breathy chuckle falling from his lips. Though from the pained look on his face, it was obvious the boy wasn't amused at all. "You...I-I...I thought you...y-you said you w-wouldn't..." None of the sentences ever made it to completion however as the teen found himself short of breath all of a sudden.

"Y-you told them." It wasn't a question. (You did this to yourself.)

Tony quickly picked up on where the situation was headed, standing up from his seat. "Wait a minute now-"

However, as soon as the man made to move closer, Peter was stumbling out of his seat as well, the metal stool clattering to the floor with a loud clang. Tony winced at the sound as Peter shakily backed up, the rumbling thunder outside doing little to calm his frayed nerves as he pointed a shaky finger towards the man. "I thought you...and t-the...oh, god."

He was lying. The man was lying. He had to be lying. There was no way he'd done it. None. He couldn't believe it. He wouldn't believe it.

"You seriously think someone like Tony is going to back you up when it comes to Ross ad his personal agendas or whatever?"

Sam's words rang painfully in the back of his head as he tried and failed to convince himself that he was overreacting. That the man hadn't just jeopardized his one sense of calm and security, that he hadn't just broken the small semblance of trust the teen was starting to feel.

The doubt that had been plaguing his mind ever since his run-in with the Falcon slowly began to bubble to the surface. The fears that had been plaguing him ever since he'd wondered about what the Accords would mean for him, what they would entail with his identity, the danger that would come from exposing it. The more people that knew who he was, the greater threat it was to him.

He'd taken solace in the fact that Mr. Stark had been around the only true person who knew, the only person he'd hoped to trust with such a secret.

But, of course, he'd been wrong. So. Fucking. Wrong. (You've just jeapordized everything. They'll find out. They always find out eventually.)

Kid just listen to me for a second here." Tony tried to say, but he wasn't too sure Peter had even heard him as the teen let out another laugh of disbelief, face pale and cheeks red as his body jerked with another crash of lightning igniting from outside, illuminating the darkening tower in piercing white light for a split second before falling dim once more.

"I...I-I thought you...How could you?!" Peter exclaimed, shaky voice slowly building up as the teen's fearful expression began to morph into one of anger and his shaking hands slowly curled into fists. This wasn't happening. He refused to believe that his once source of levity was beginning to crumble around him. His past suspicious were now coming to light. (Rule 1, Rule 1, Rule 1)

And yet...something strange began to happen. Instead of the usual feelings of sadness and sorrow that usually followed such disappointments, Peter was shocked at the feelings of heat and anger that began to pool in his chest.

"You think he's not gonna rat you out, expose you to that government douchebag?"

He was tired of it. Tired of getting let down all the time. Tired of having the things he cared about messed up and ruined by people he wished he could trust. He was sick and tired of things always going wrong.

But this time...this time he wasn't staying quiet. This time...he was upset, and everyone was going to know it. For the first time, the ones to blame would know exactly what he was thinking, what he was feeling. And he didn't care what it cost.

What the hell did he have to lose anyway?

"Peter-" Tony called, reaching out to rest a hand on the boy's shoulder. (Get away. Get away.)

Please! You can't be that naive!"

"NO!" Peter roared, wrenching his arm back as his eyes blazed and his hands curled into fists. Tony reared back at the sudden shout, only to falter as the teen glared daggers at him. "I knew it! I knew it! I knew I couldn't trust you!" The teen snarled, fists shaking at his sides as he screamed. "I knew you'd do this! I knew you'd lie to me! That you had been lying to me!"

Tony stared at the teen with wide eyes, mouth agape at the screams being thrown at him. He'd only ever seen the teen shout in such a manner once, and even then, it had been more out of desperation than true anger. But this time...this time it wasn't just anger. It was pain. Fury.

The teen pressed his palms into his eyes. "God, I am such an idiot!" He snarled. "I never should have listened to you. I never should have agreed to all of this in the first place!" He lifted his head back up once more, eyes blazing. "Was that your plan all along? Drag me along and get my secrets?" He let out a bitter scoff as he gestured towards himself. "Well, now you got 'em! Congratulations, Mr. Stark! What's next? Blackmail me into doing whatever you want? Or did you just want insurance for when you finally get tired of me and decide you want me gone?!"

In the back of his head, Peter knew that the things he was thinking about perhaps weren't pure truth. After all, there was a big gap between disclosing secrets between colleagues and disclosing secrets between government officials. But the teen couldn't shake the nagging feeling in the pit of his stomach. It was obvious that Stark considered his secret open to disclose. And that was enough to have the boy spiraling into a panic.

After all, the more people who knew, the higher the chance of something happening...of his father...He couldn't even finish the thought. So he settled for anger.

"P-Peter..." The man could barely even speak, at a loss for words at the sudden turn of events.

"Shut up!" The boy snapped. "God, I can't believe it! I can't fucking believe it! Just when I was finally beginning to open up to you...is that what you wanted...?" His voice wavered slightly at that. "Get me to warm up to you just to turn around at the last second? Is that what you fucking wanted?" (runrunrunrunrun)

The man shook his head in disbelief. "No, kid listen I-"

"Save it. It's obvious now that I can't trust you. Not with this. Not with...not with anything." The boy stared back at him for a moment before shaking his head and glaring down at the ground. "I don't know why I'm so surprised. I guess it just means you're a pretty good actor. Had me fooled." He growled before clutching his head. "God...god, god, GOD!" He shuddered. "You're gonna tell him aren't you?" His body was suddenly racked with shivers as another flash of lightning rocketed through the tower.

"Peter-"

"Y-you're gonna tell him and it's all gonna be over!"

"Peter!"

"How could you do this?!"

"Peter! Listen to me!" Tony shouted, suddenly appearing right in front of the boy as he gripped his shoulders tightly, not even caring if the boy approved or not. Peter, too distraught to even seem aware of the contact, stared up at the man with wide, fear-wracked eyes, hazel irises wavering in anguish.

"Kid..." The man panted, heart pounding from the sudden events that had unfolded. "...I didn't tell them."

Peter stared up at him, chest heaving as he fought to keep from collapsing to the floor in complete and udder exhaustion from the energy he'd expended from his screaming. And yet, he was still aware enough to hear the man's words, muscles tensing as they reached his ears. "...w-what?"

Before Tony could answer him, another crack of thunder shook from outside, Peter tensing underneath his grip. The billionaire growled at the noise before glaring up at the ceiling. "FRIDAY, deal with that damn noise."

"Yes, boss." The AI responded, quieter than usual. Peter wondered if he simply imagined it.

As the windows turned a slight tint darker, Tony turned back to the boy, staring down at the kid who suddenly looked much younger, with his cheeks and nose red from unshed tears and his curls unruly and messy as they flopped down around his eyes.

"Ah geez, kid..." The man sighed, tightening his grip on the boy's shoulders in an attempt at assurance. If anything, they just made Peter wince.

Tony dropped his hands and slowly ambled his way over towards the couch, plopping down on the seats with a loud sigh. Peter stared at him, distrust gleaming in his eyes. His heart ached painfully, but the boy resisted releasing any tears. Anger was one thing, but he refused to break down into an emotionless wreck in front of the man again. Ever since that first day in the lab, the oath had hung in the back of his head.

Nevertheless, he watched as Tony rested his head in one hand as he used the other to rub the back of his neck. "It was when you first came to visit the tower. The first time they really...met you." He murmured. "They figured it out for themselves."

Peter stared at him, body remaining motionless as he stood, eyes falling over the man as he sat hunched on the couch, the teen feeling his fingers twitch at his sides. "H-how'd they find out?" He had to know. Was it something he did? Something he said? Was his secret at a much greater risk of discovery than he'd first thought?

Tony blew out a small breath. "When I was first looking into you, researching Spider-Man and all that crap...I had Pepper keep tabs of all your activities, anything and everything mentioning you. I had her store them on an encrypted file database." He explained before wincing. "Which...is also where I kept the information on one Peter Parker."

Said boy felt his stomach clenching in unease at the man's words. "Pepper pieced it together from that, Rhodey from his encounters with Spider-Man in Germany." He continued. "They approached me. Told me they'd found out and..." He trailed off for a moment. "I couldn't exactly lie to them. Not when they already knew what they knew. So I told them the rest."

Peter stood still for a moment longer before taking slow, small steps over towards one of the seats adjacent to the couch, quietly sitting down as he folded his hands together and hung his head down to look at the ground. After a few moments of silence, he finally spoke up, voice quiet. "Does anyone else have access to those files?" He whispered.

Tony shook his head. "Nobody."

If the teen was reassured by such a fact, he didn't show it as he ran both his hands down his face and blew out a long, tired sigh. Suddenly, the tower seemed much colder, darker, tinged in grays.

"They aren't going to tell anybody, you know."

"Yeah? H-how can you be so sure?"

"Cause I know them, kid." Tony shot back, turning to look at the boy. "Look, Pete. This...this isn't my secret to tell, alright? If you don't want people to know, then I won't tell them anything." He explained. "I promi-"

"Don't!" Peter snapped, eyes suddenly flashing. "Don't use that word. It means nothing." He growled out. Tony said nothing at that.

Peter felt his hands tighten as he continued to stare at the floor, the look turning more into a glare at the man's words. "And what about Secretary Ross?" Even though they weren't close to each other, Peter could have sworn he felt Tony tense nonetheless. "If...if he were to ask...what would you tell him?" He asked, lifting his head to stare the man dead in the eyes.

Tony held his gaze, dark brown eyes boring into light hazel. For a moment, neither said anything, once again caught in the other's gaze. Tony was the first to blink back into reality as his gaze hardened. "I'd tell him to go fuck himself."

Peter stared at the man, face never changing in its neutral look before he lowered his head down once more, eyes hidden by his curls as they fell down overtop his forehead.

Now that the windows were soundproof, there was nothing to fill the silence that quickly overtook the two, the tower settling into absolute silence as the atmosphere instantly thickened into a palpable uncomfortableness that neither knew how to remedy. It was hard to ignore the obvious problems that had plagued both of their minds for the few months they'd been in contact.

Trust.

Peter still refused to grant the man any sort of faith, display that he felt any semblance of confidence in the man. If anything, the previous scene had just displayed how much he didn't trust him.

And yet...it had also displayed how angry he'd become at the notion of betrayal. If Peter hadn't been planning on trusting the man at all, then his supposed "betrayal" shouldn't have evoked as much emotion as it had. And yet, the teen had been visibly upset to the point where he'd ignored all inhibitions and had simply let go, as if he hadn't been expecting to feel betrayed. As if such a thing truly did shock him. Maybe...just maybe he really did want to trust the man. Tony couldn't help but linger on such as fact as he glanced over at the boy.

Peter stared at the ground for a moment longer before lifting his hands to his face, a loud groan escaping his lips, muffled by his palms. "God, I...I'm so sorry." He murmured out, muscles tense.

Before Tony could even open his mouth to respond, the teen was speaking again. "It's just...this...this is all so messed up." He sighed, leaning back as he rested his head against the back of the chair, body slumping in defeat. "There's so much I wanna get over. SO much I wanna just forget and toss away, start to relax and unwind and whatever else you wanted me to do here. It's just...that's a lot easier said than done." He grumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose.

The billionaire decided to remain quiet, allowing the boy to ramble his thoughts away. Maybe he'd slip up and disclose something important. God knew the kid would never tell him purposefully. So he'd just have to hope for an accident.

"I do like it here, you know." Peter murmured. "The tower, t-the cool robots, the inventions, the suits, even y-your friends. All of it is just...so much different from what I'm used to. You're all so...open and...trusting." He sighed wistfully. "I just...I can barely even understand it most of the time." He added with a small huff of amusement. Tony couldn't help but grimace at the meaning behind the teen's words.

"And...and I like our whole 'intern' thing. I...I like coming to...t-to work with you. I like...being with you. I just...I don't know. I feel...something. I-I can't really explain it. It's just...there. And I like it. I like that feeling I get when I come here, when I'm with you. It makes me feel...safe."

The small smile that had appeared on the boy's face quickly morphed into a look of exhaustion as he leaned forward once more and rubbed his face. "God, that's what makes this so much harder."

"Makes what harder?" The billionaire finally spoke up.

"This. Talking to you. Being...being around you. You're just like May!"

At that, Tony cocked a brow and tilted his head. "May?" he asked, wondering the the teen had meant to disclose the information. Judging from the way the teen's face didn't instantly lose all remaining color, Tony was willing to bet he had.

"May." He sighed. "She's been my neighbor for...ever. S-she was friends with my mom. She...she's nice." He mused with a small, warm smile that Tony noticed as genuine. Whoever this woman was, Peter obviously felt comfortable around her. "She cares about me, has cared about me for the last ten years or so. Other than you, she's...basically the only other adult I talk to on a regular basis...you know, of my own free will."

The teen stared down at his hands. "I love May. I love being with her, talking to her. She reminds me of my mom...in a good way, I mean. It's just...s-she..." He trailed off before throwing Tony an unsure look "I...don't really know how to explain it."

"You don't have to, kid." The man reassured him.

Peter nodded. "The point is...whenever I talk to May, I feel...relaxed. Calm. I'm not nervous about anything. And because of that...I talk more. And that's...bad."

The billionaire shook his head. "No it's not k-"

"Yes, it is." Peter shot back. "Alright? You...you don't get it, Mr. Stark. The more...comfortable I am with someone...the more likely I'm gonna say something I shouldn't. The more likely a slip-up is. And I can't afford slip-ups, alright? I just can't." He stressed, resting his head in his hands once more.

"And that's what I'm afraid of here. I'm...I'm scared I'm gonna say something I'm not supposed to, something that end up causing a lot more trouble than its's worth. But..." HE sighed, shaking his head. "You're...y-you're just..."

Tony leaned forward. "Just what, kid?"

Peter stared at him for a moment before licking his lips. "You're just so easy to talk to."

"And why's that?"

The teen paused for a moment before letting a small smile crease his lips. "I don't know. I guess it's cause you seem as lost as I do."

Tony blinked at the teen, unsure as to how to respond to that. Thankfully, Peter continued, sparing him from speaking. "Well, I mean, I'm not one to really talk much to new people and...and it doesn't seem like you have much experience talking to kids a whole lot."

"Geez, thanks kid."

Peter couldn't help but chuckle a little at that, shaking his head. "It's just...comforting knowing you and I are kinda the same in this. Like...like we both need just a little bit of help here and there."

Tony stared at the teen before letting a smirk fall onto his face, hoping the look would hide the silent desperation he was beginning to feel towards the teen. "Well, we could always help each other fumble through this, huh?"

Peter turned away at that. "Well, that's just the thing. It's a little...too comforting." He sighed. "It's so easy to talk to you that it's also easy to share something bad. Say something wrong. The possibility of such a thing seems to skyrocket every time I'm in the same room as you!"

The billionaire blew out a breath and shook his own head. "Peter, there is no...wrong, alright? I've said this before, kid. You're not gonna get in trouble with me for saying what's on your mind."

"It's not you I'm worried about."

At that, Tony couldn't help but clench his fists, eyes narrowing. Peter shook his head and rested his forehead into his palm once more. "Who am I kidding? You wouldn't understand this?"

The billionaire froze at that, the words sinking in as he stared at the teen across the way. The boy continued to scrunch in on himself, almost as if he believed that if he made himself as small as possible, he'd simply just disappear. Of course, the cloud of negative emotions radiating from the boy was nearly big enough to fill the entire tower.

With a final thought and a shake of his head, Tony made up his mind. He was done with this. Done with dealing with the same cloud he'd been trying to fight through for the past couple of months. Tired of having this kid tip-toe around him.

He was fixing his once and for all.

"Let me guess. Nothing you do is good enough for them."

Peter jerked his head up at that, Tony continuing. "Everything is met with some sort of criticism, some exposed flaw, some detail that you missed. Whenever you do something good, it's immediately followed with questions about what you did wrong, about what you will do wrong now or in the future. And it doesn't seem like anything you could possibly do will ever live up to their expectations."

Peter stared at him, eyes wide and mouth parting as his brows furrowed slightly in mild confusion. "How...h-how do you-?"

"How do I know that?" Tony finished for him. He let out a small humorless chuckle. "Cause that's exactly what my dad would do."

The teen never let his eyes leave the man as he continued. "But you know, when I was your age I has just met Rhodey." He explained." For the longest time, I had assumed that most families were like mine. Cold, distant and unforgiving." A small smile crossed his lips. "But...when I met Rhodey, when I met his family for the first time, I realized just what I was missing."

Tony turned to look at the teen, eyes filling with an unreadable look. "Peter...you come from a family that doesn't always appreciate you, don't you?"

Peter swallowed and cast his eyes to the floor, hands wringing around themselves. That gave Tony the answer he needed. The billionaire sighed as he leaned closer. "Well, I'm here to tell you that it does get better, you know. But not if you go at it alone." He stressed. "You gotta reach out to other people, kid. They aren't all gonna bite back."

The teen couldn't help but give a light scoff at that. "I've met plenty that do."

Tony gave a reluctant nod of his head. "Yeah, some of them might...but not all of them. And I can assure you, I haven't lost my bite, but I'm very particular about who gets the honor of being mauled by Tony Stark."

Peter couldn't help but chuckle at that, the small bout of merriment morphing into a look of resigned sadness as the boy stared down at his hands. "Mr Stark...I...I really really wanna believe you." He murmured.

"Then do it. What's stopping you?"

The teen let out a breath, eyes shifting as he tried to find the words. "I w-wanna believe you...but I...I can't trust you."

At the look of shock and slight unease passing over the billionaire's face, the teen backtracked quickly. "No, j-just...listen." He sighed, unsure as to how to explain. "It's not you. It's me. I just...and it's hard because I want to...and with all the the...I-I just..." The words continued to trip over themselves so he just stopped talking, running a hand through his hair.

He was so tired of this, of...of all of this.

He glanced back over towards Mr. Stark, the man staring at him, concern and confusion etched into his dark brown eyes. He could see the hints of caring in those eyes, the hints of a man who really did just want to...help him.

But he couldn't afford to accept it. Not when there was so much he had to mask.

"Maybe this was a mistake." He murmured softly.

Tony sucked in a sharp breath. "Peter-"

"No, I'm sorry, Mr. Stark for making you go through all this trouble tonight." The teen suddenly began to ramble, shooting up from his seat as the billionaire quickly did the same. 'I'm so sorry for taking up your time but I really should be getting home anyways." He grinned nervously, rubbing at the back of his neck as his heart began to beat just a little faster, especially when Mr. Stark took a step closer. "Thanks again for all of this, but i really should-" He quickly jumped out of reach of the man and made to walk away back towards the elevator, only for the man's voice to stop him.

"Peter!"

The teen froze at the man's voice, though his didn't turn around to face him. Instead he simply lowered his head, fists clenching as they shook at his sides, body stiff with tension that seemed to drip from his muscles and coat the floor beneath his feet. He clenched his eyes shut, chest stuttering slightly as he tried to suck in a calming breath.

He didn't hear any footfalls on the floor, which meant Mr. Stark hadn't walked after him, which meant he still had a good chance of making it to the elevator without the man being able tot catch up to him. And yet, despite his obvious window of opportunity, the boy found himself ignoring it. Instead, it felt as though his feet were rooted to the ground, ceasing any and all movement. Before he could think better of it, his mouth was opening.

"You're not stupid, Mr. Stark." His voice was hard. "You know there are things going on that I can't tell you about. I just can't."

He immediately regretted the words as soon as they were out, realizing he'd just etched another crack in his mask. Whatever suspicions the man had been holding he'd all but just confirmed them right then and there. He mentally screamed at himself for his stupidity, but still found himself frozen to the spot.

All he could do was stay silent and listen for the man's response, hoping and praying that maybe he'd misheard him.

. . . 

"Then don't"

Peter jolted at that, eyes springing open as he whirled around to stare at the man, lips parted slightly.

Tony stared at him with a look of resigned acceptance. "You don't have to tell me anything. You don't have to tell me about it. You don't have to confess to me. Hell, you don't even have to trust me, kid." He sighed, dark brown eyes seeming to bore into the teen, who was still having difficulties comprehending the man's words. "But all I'm asking is that you give this a try. Just...just try and let this be a place you can relax in, try to find something to stay for, try to be yourself. T-try to believe that everything I said is true."

Peter blinked up at him, face holding a look of pure shock as he slowly but surely found his voice. "I...I-I don't have to tell you about it? Y-You're not gonna push at it?"

Tony sighed. "Not if you don't want me to." He murmured. "You don't have to think about it, you don't even have to mention his name whenever you're in this tower. You don't have to...do whatever it is you do with everybody else. You don't have to worry about slipping up and saying something I'm not supposed to hear cause I won't fault you for it. I won't pry. I won't snoop. Nothing you don't want."

He rubbed at the back of his neck as he felt fatigue wrapping around him. "I get it, kid. Believe me, I do. You don't know who to trust so you don't trust anybody. You...put up walls, barriers, masks. The act is what people see. Richard Parker's son. that's who greets them, avoids eye contact, hides the truth."

He stepped closer, Peter too stupefied to truly react as the man placed his hands around the teen's shoulders. "But you don't have to do that with me, kid. Cause I prom-" He stopped himself from using the word. "I guarantee I'm not looking for Richard Parker's son, alright. I didn't ask to have Richard Parker's son as an intern, okay? I asked for Peter Parker. So while Richard Parker's kid may put up an act, a front for people to see, Peter Parker doesn't have to do that. You don't have to do that. Not here. Not with me."

Peter stared at him, blinking rapidly as he slowly began to digest the information being thrown at him. He lowered his gaze as his mind swirled around Tony's words. Slowly, he began to piece together what the man was saying, realizing exactly what the man had just figured out.

There were two of him.

There was Peter Parker - Richard Parker's son. He followed the rules. He obeyed without complaint. He kept his eyes down and his mouth shut and he knew just what he could and couldn't say. The things he could and couldn't reveal. He tripped over his words, he flinched around everyone. He had secrets. Secrets that nobody could know. He was a mask.

Then there was Peter Parker, the boy underneath the mask. He came out for Ned and MJ occasionally. He was pulled out by May before quickly being hidden away by the mask again. He wasn't afraid to complain about the rules. He went against them when the time came. He fought back against them when he had to, in a mask of a completely different degree, a mask that ironically uncovered his true self, a mask that let him help people in ways Richard Parker's son never could.

Peter Parker was who he really was. Peter Parker was the person he hid away from his father, the Cons...everyone.

And yet, as he stared up at Mr. Stark's calming chocolate eyes, the teen felt a strange tug in his chest, a longing feeling that had only ever been present in the man's presence, a feeling he hadn't understood before, but truly did now.

A feeling of longing...of freedom.

Tony stared down at him, feelings of anxiety bubbling in his chest at the boy's prolonged silence. "Kid? Heh...umm...could you maybe say something? Just, like...give me a ballpark range here. How high are the chances of you jumping out that window to escape right now?"

Peter lifted his head, staying silent for a moment before letting a small smile grace his lips, the smile growing wider until it turned into a soft chuckle, which grew into a full-blown laugh.

Tony blinked down at him as he cocked a brow, still unsure as to whether or not this situation was really 'under control'. "Alright, I'm still confused. Are we happy or just delving into the first stages of a mental breakdown?"

The teen glanced up at him with a smile. "Probably a little of both."

"Cool. We're on the same page then."

The boy scoffed at that, before swallowing the slight lump in his throat, Tony noticing this as he leaned closer once more. "I meant what I said, Pete. No more masks. No more hiding. Just you."

"Just me." The teen echoed back in a whisper, said more to himself than to Tony. "I think...I think I can do that." He said with a soft smile.

Tony let out a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding as he clasped the teen on the shoulder, Peter giving only small flinch at the touch. "Alright, good. That's...t-that's good. These are...these are good things." Tony rambled, as if trying to find his train of thought, which had quickly left the station.

Outside, another flash of lighting lit the sky, but it was much duller this time. Father away. A soft sound of rumbling thunder echoed through the building as FRIDAY disabled the soundproofed windows now that the storm was getting farther away. But this time, the noise didn't make Peter tense. It didn't make his heart light with panic.

This time he heard no gunshots.

A sense of silence settled over the two once more, but this time it wasn't like before. It wasn't suffocating and cold. This time it was...calm. A sense of peace flowing through the two. A feeling of...comfortableness washing over them.

And for the first time ever, Peter wasn't afraid of it.

It was a feeling he could get used to.

"You know, you never told me about yours."

Tony cocked a brow and turned towards the teen. "Never told you about what?"

"What you'd eat for breakfast with the others."

The man stared down at him for a moment before letting out a humored scoff, Peter giggling next to him. The man shrugged his shoulders and lifted a hand to gesture. "Literally, i could have eaten bricks and razor blades and it wouldn't have mattered as long as I had my coffee." He muttered, Peter snorting at that.

"You mean with the coffee machine that cuts you off?"

"We don't talk about that."

Peter laughed while Tony continued to ramble on and curse out the machine that brought him both so much pleasure and pain in the form of dark black liquid while outside, the dark storm clouds were beginning to dissipate, revealing the clear black sky above, the moonlight seeping through as it illuminated the air and seemed to expel the darkness as light reached out to brighten everything it could touch.