Peter couldn't help but smile from his seat on the carpet as his Mommy let out a laugh, eyes crinkling in the corners as she stared over at their neighbors, May and Ben.

The former was sitting on the couch with a smile on her face while the latter was crouched down next to the TV, sorting through all the old albums his Mommy had stored up over the years. Peter knew their neighbors. Peter liked them. They were nice; funny; they gave him toys and candy whenever they came. But most of all, they made his Mommy really, really happy.

"I mean, how many of these things can one person have?" Ben chided as he glanced through all the assorted music.

May rolled her eyes from the couch. "Don't listen to him, Mary. This loaf has over two hundred CDs just strewn about all over the place. And they aren't even in their correct packages. I have no idea how he finds anything in there."

"Hey! I have my system. I don't question how you find anything in that shoe closet of yours, now do I?"

Mary let out another laugh as she shook her head, playfully pushing Ben to the side as she glanced over his shoulder to browse through the CDs. Her eyes seemed to stop on one in particular as she beamed and reached down.

The four-year-old currently stacking his Legos together watched as Mommy straightened back up, now holding a new CD in her hands, turning it this way and that as she let a smile fall onto her face. "This is my favorite album in the whole series, you know?"

Ben sat down on his haunches and glanced up at her with a funny expression on his face. "Seriously? 'Revolver' is your favorite album? Honey...we gotta have a serious talk about this." He joked, Mary tapping him with her foot as she rolled her eyes.

Ignoring the man's comments, she walked over towards the CD player next to the TV and popped in the disk. "Just you wait, you two. We'll make little Pete here a fan of the 80s soon enough."

"The Beatles weren't from the 80s, you know."

"Details, details."

The married couple rolled their eyes with large grins on their faces as the fuzzy muffled noises from the loading machine cleared way to a bright tune. Mary stooped down and scooped Peter up in her arms, the boy shrieking in joy as his mother twirled him around as if he were her dance partner. The music bopped along merrily in his ears as he gripped his mother tightly, grin stretching from cheek to cheek as she laughed.

Out of the corner of their eyes, they could make out Ben hauling May to her feet, the latter giving a small shout of protest before succumbing to her husband's charm, sinking into his arms as they danced around as well, joining the mother and son as the group happily twirled around the room to the instantly recognizable harmonies of the Beatles.

"What is this, Mommy?"

"The best music in the world, baby. And don't you forget it."

 

---

 

T hursday - April 7, 2016

Midtown School of Science and Technology - Building 1

03:11 p.m.

"You wanna be my what?"

Ned practically bounced in his seat as he leaned closer to the confused boy. "You're 'Guy In The Chair'!" He beamed. "You know-"

Peter shook his head. "No, no. I...I heard you the first time. It's just...what?"

The larger of the two rolled his eyes. "Come on, man. You know what I'm talking about. Like in all those spy action movies where the heroes are out doing their thing, there's always some guy on the sidelines giving him all the directions and opening all the trap doors and turning all the street lights green?"

Peter stared at him, blinking slowly. "...yeah?"

"Well, that could be me!"

Peter couldn't help but scoff and roll his eyes. "Ned, I-"

"Plus, then you'll have someone to talk to whenever you're out swinging around putting out fires and stopping floods." The boy whispered, Peter throwing him a weird look.

"Dude, I'm Spider-Man. Not...Jesus."

Ned threw him a light slap on the arm, Peter chuckling as he lightly punched his friend right back.

Over the past week, Ned had been flooding him with questions and inquiries on his "extracurricular activities", begging and pleading to let him get involved with it in one way or another. Of course, Peter was more than hesitant to allow the boy to do such a thing, knowing firsthand just how dangerous it was. After all, the closer he got the more threatening it was. And not just to him. To Peter as well. (He can't know. Can't know. Can't know.)

Still, that didn't do much to quell his friend's excitement.

And it didn't stop Peter from enjoying it as well. With all the seriousness surrounding Spider-Man and the dangers involved, it was easy to forget the sheer joy of being his spider-persona. Ned brought that joy and excitement back, the same feelings he'd felt when he'd first donned the mask and had swung around the city, free-falling and whooping like a child at Disney World.

So, with that gratitude in mind, Peter couldn't help but smile back at his friend. "I'm sure we could set something up." He murmured with a chuckle, especially when Ned practically started squealing in his seat.

The other decathlon members threw them strange looks but thought nothing of it as they went back to chatting amongst themselves, waiting for Michelle and Mr. Harrington to finish their brief discussion in the middle of their practice session.

The auditorium was all but empty save for the few tables and chairs that they usually set up for their practice meets. MJ and their sponsor teacher were near one of the back walls, having taken a break from their drills as the girl went to discuss something with the teacher while the rest of the members relaxed for a few short minutes.

Taking advantage of their brief rest along with the rest of their teammates, Ned had gone right into the questions and talks about Spider-Man once again, which was what led them to their current discussion.

However, Peter's mind drifted as he glanced over towards where Michelle was talking with their teacher. The girl's messy, curl-filled hair was tied back into a ponytail as usual, a few strands falling down around her eyes as she folded her arms over her chest and continued to converse with the older man. Peter couldn't help but watch the girl as she silently and almost unnoticeably shifted her weight from foot to foot, something she usually did whenever she was annoyed or upset by something but didn't wanna say it out loud, which was rare considering the girl was always quick to voice her opinions.

Of course, before he could question why he was focusing on the girl so much, Ned was tapping him on the shoulder. The teen jerked slightly before turning to face the boy, who - if his facial expressions were any sign - had just said something.

"Huh?"

"I asked if you think you'll run into any other Avengers anytime soon." The teen repeated quietly, confused as to where the boy's mind could have gone but ignoring it nonetheless.

Peter thought about it for a moment before giving a shrug of his shoulders. "I don't really know. I mean Tony and Rhodey I see on a daily basis and that little run-in with the Falcon was kind of an accident. Plus, I don't know if the Black Widow is gonna be making those tower visits a weekly thing and-"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Ned whispered frantically before pointing a shaky finger towards his best friend, Peter rearing back slightly with wide eyes. "Don't tell me you met Black Widow. Peter Parker, do not tell me you met the Black Widow!" He basically whisper-screamed.

"...uh..."

"When did this happen?"

"About...I don't know, two weeks ago?"

"Two-! Two weeks ago?!" He was practically vibrating at this point. "You've had this little secret stored up for two weeks and you're just telling me about this now?!"

Peter shrugged his shoulders once more, a nervous smile on his face. "Well, I don't know, man. Things have been kinda...hectic for me right now. Seriously. I just...it just slipped my mind is all." He murmured.

Ned shook his head. "I am sorely disappointed in you, Mr. Parker. You gotta tell me everything now. In excruciating detail, too, just to make up for it."

Before Peter could roll his eyes and snort out a reply, their attention was drawn elsewhere. "Yo, Losers. If you're about done over there."

They jerked slightly in their seats before realizing that all of the other members had quieted down and were now glancing over at them. Lifting their heads, they noticed Michelle was back, Mr. Harrington now taking his usual seat at one of the back tables, content to stay out of the way to allow the students to handle themselves. The girl in question had her hands on her hips and was looking at them with a cocked brow.

Ned gave a small smile while Peter shrunk down in his seat slightly at all the looks. "Sorry!" His friend called.

Michelle rolled her eyes but quickly dropped it, turning back to address the rest of the Decathlon members. "Alright, so Mr. Harrington and I were just talking and we've gotten word of a rumor floating around the other Decathlon teams around the county that the topics for this next meet are gonna center around Africa."

A collective number of groans drifted up from the students, Michelle narrowing her eyes. "Don't give me that. I don't care if these questions are on Africa, micro-sciences, or fucking Star Wars."

"Language." Mr. Harrington's voice called out from the back, Michelle and the others promptly ignoring it as she glared at her team members. "We are not losing this next meet. Got it? You're all on this team for a reason. You all excel in your individual studies. We have members for math, history, literature, sciences, robotics, the works." She explained, folding her arms over her chest. "So whichever area of testing you're in, just be sure to study up on African areas of your fields, got it?" She snapped, the others quickly giving sharp nods, none too eager to mess around with the strict girl.

Quickly falling out of her disciplinarian mode, the girl slowly melted back into her usual sassy drill mode, pulling out another round of question cards for their next session.

"Alright, so with that in mind, we'll try our hand in a few." She murmured before flipping a few of her cards around and stepping up to their makeshift podium. "In the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, what luxury item was exported on a large scale from Africa by the Portuguese?"

The light tingle of a bell being rung sounded from the table over as Abe, their resident history star, chimed in. "Ivory."

Michelle gave a nod of approval before moving onto the next. "The title for Things Fall Apart comes from a poem from which writer?"

"Yeats." Sally rings in, earning another nod from Michelle.

Over the next half an hour, their questions mainly stemmed around African culture, earning most of their responses from Abe, Sally, and Charlie, who were more culturally knowledgeable than Peter, Ned, or Cindy, who were more mathematics, physics, and science. Of course, with each randomly thrown in math equation, science calculation, or statistical function, their bells were ringing just as much as their other teammates.

However, for once, Peter's bell wasn't ringing as often as their usual meets. It wasn't that he didn't know the answers. It's just that his mind seemed to be...elsewhere. This upcoming Decathlon meet was the qualifier for the regional championships coming up in a few months. Midtown almost always qualified so there was a significant reputation to uphold. The number of people attending this upcoming meet would be substantially larger than usual.

Such a fact didn't really...bother Peter, per se. Sure, it made him a little more anxious than usual being confined to a room with so many eyes on him, lights shining in his face. But he had gotten used to such events in his time on the Decathlon team.

With each meeting, each face-off against a new school, new opponents, the teen began to feel a little more comfortable. He got used to the bright lights, the quick questions. He even got used to the feeling of not knowing a question, learning to rely on his other teammates when he was lost.

However, with each and every new meet that came up, there was always one thing that remained the same. One thing that stood as a constant.

Usually, the first few rows of the auditoriums where their meets were held were reserved for the family members of each of the students, one name after another scrawled onto white pieces of paper before being draped over chairs, reserved and marked for proud mothers and boastful dads. Of course, when it came to Midtown's reserves, there was always one empty chair.

Richard Parker never bothered in showing up for their meets.

Sure, on occasion Sally's mom would have to work late or Ned's dad would have some holdups at the office or a family emergency would hold up Michelle's parents, but one time or another, parents always filled in those seats. One meet or the next. They were there.

But not Peter's. His seat was always empty. Always reflecting that name right back up at him as he spouted off one right answer after another.

This had led to more than one instance of teasing from Flash, the others either throwing Peter looks of sympathy or Flash looks of annoyance, but they never outright said anything. Abe had asked a few times where his parents were and Sally had volunteered her mom to loan his parents rides if transportation was the problem, but each and every time Peter just declined with a smile and a polite thank you, simply saying his dad was usually just busy and would show up if he could.

He never said anything about his mom.

They never asked. He hoped it would stay that way.

But as the absences grew less and less noticeable, Peter began to wonder if his father would ever show up for a meet, or if the man even knew about Decathlon at all.

(Of course he does. He just doesn't care enough to come.)

Still, Peter felt a strange gnawing at the idea of his father missing what could potentially be the most important meet of the season, save for the championship. And sure, he'd missed them before and Peter couldn't exactly be too sure what he'd feel if the man actually did come, it didn't stop the teen from wondering if the man would ever say yes to coming and seeing him. Witnessing his son in a setting where he actually thrived, somewhere he could actually make his father proud.

Maybe he should ask him. (Don't do that.)

Maybe he could mention the meet and how important it was. (He doesn't care.)

Maybe if he knew just how important it was to Peter...maybe...if he was in a good mood...then...

Maybe he could finally prove that he could make his father proud.

(Don't bet on it.)

"Yo, Parker!"

Peter was jerked out of his thoughts for the second time that day by a loud voice calling out to him. Only this time, it wasn't laced with good-natured snark like Michelle's. In fact, everyone turned to look at Flash as he threw the boy a smug look, sitting up from where he'd been lounging against one of the tables, a magazine now resting on his lap.

"What's the matter? No answers today? That brain of your finally short-circuit?"

Michelle glanced over at the boy, a glare and a reprimand at the ready, only for another voice to interfere with her snap. "Yeah, you're pretty quiet today, Pete. Everything okay?" Cindy asked, long black hair swishing as she turned her head to look at him.

Peter blinked a few times just to snap himself fully back to the situation at hand, only to falter slightly as he realized that they were all staring at him now. Shifting slightly under the scrutinizing stares, the teen blew out a small breath as he gave a nervous grin and rubbed the back of his neck. "Y-yeah. Yeah...I'm fine. Just...a little out of it today, I guess."

"Well, you better snap back into it soon, Parker. This meet is in a little over one week and you're my header for mathematics so get on it." Michelle chided from her seat by the podium, Peter blinking at the girl's usual snappiness with a frantic nod of his head.

The others looked ready to let it go at that, but Flash apparently had other plans. "Really, people? We can't see what's happening here?"

"No, but I'm sure you'll enlighten us," Michelle muttered as she rested an elbow on the podium surface and propped her cheek against her raised fist.

"This is just more proof of what I've been telling you. Penis here couldn't tell you the difference between an integer and a fraction and it's gonna cost us the match. This here is just more evidence."

He rose up from his seat and began to make his way over towards Michelle and the podium. "You all know I'm a better choice for his spot and if you don't wake up and realize it, then this match is as good as gone."

"Flash, come on-" Abe started, only for the other boy to cut him off.

"No, you know what? This moron hasn't answered one single question today and I'll prove it to you." He called with a smug grin as he reached over and swiped the trivia cards out of Michelle's hands.

"Hey!" The girl snapped, Flash ignoring her as he rifled through them, obviously trying to find the most difficult one. All the while, the others turned to glance over at Peter, who was sitting as stiff as a board as he watched Flash rifle through the cards. To them, it perhaps looked to be out of nervousness, but inside, Peter was feeling nothing but a burning sense of annoyance and resentment. A new feeling of tiredness washed over him as he thought over all the times Flash had made a mockery of him, had tried to degrade him, bully him.

School was Peter's face haven, but Flash just reminded him that nowhere was really...safe. Everywhere he went, there would always be someone like Flash, like the Cons, like his father.

(You can't escape.)

Well, he was tired of it. If this was the game Flash wanted to play, then-

He stopped himself from finishing the thought, muscles falling limp as the boy swallowed the lump in his throat, the swirling thoughts quickly dissipating with a small sigh.

No.

He couldn't do it. He couldn't push it.

Cause everywhere else, all it ever did was make things worse. So who was to say that it wouldn't be the same here? If Flash truly was like his father and the Cons, then who was he to act any differently? Oh sure, Flash couldn't exactly hurt him (physically at least) without serious repercussions, there was still a substantial power off-balance in the school, and like it or not, Flash was a lot more popular than Peter. And that meant power.

And just like every other person he knew with substantial power over him, Peter did what he knew best.

(Head down. Mouth shut.)

He survived.

So if that meant Flash thinking what he wanted, then so be it. He knew the truth. His friends knew the truth. His teammates knew the truth. Wasn't that enough?

But then again...they didn't really know the truth, now did they?

Did he?

("You're a waste of space.)

Did he even want to know the truth?

Before he could really even formulate an answer, he heard a victorious shout. Flash, apparently finding a question he liked, threw Peter a cocky smirk. "Alright, Parker. If you're so smart, then answer me this. A satellite is orbiting Earth at an altitude of 250 miles. Taking into consideration the measurement of the Earth's tangent horizon line, what is the distance from the satellite to the horizon when the radius is approximately 3,959 miles?" He finished by snidely whipping the card back down to glare at the boy in front of him.

His other teammates glanced at Peter unsurely before reaching for the pieces of scrap paper in front of them, deciding to do the problem as well just in case. Peter stared down at Flash, the teen's words slowly sinking into his mind, weaving themselves together in a jumbled mess Peter couldn't really pull apart, not when he already had so much clutter he was trying to sort through.

(You aren't worth shit.)

However, his troubles must have shown on his face as Flash sneered. "Seriously? You can't even set it up?" He called, noticing Peter wasn't even writing the problem down. "God, you are such an idiot, Penis. Why are you even on this team, man? You're like, completely useless."

("You will always be nothing.")

With those last words, Peter felt something inside of him bend. It didn't break, just shuddered. A small scratch in the glass walls holding in the torrents of black sludge always occupying his mind. It was just a tiny scratch, almost unnoticeable.

But it was enough to have his fingers curling as he glared down at the smirking boy below him. The boy that - for the first time in a long time - didn't look as intimidating as usual. His muscles weren't large and threatening. His face - while annoying - wasn't terrifying. And his eyes...weren't glowing.

Hands clenching, Peter came to realize something. Yes, Flash was like his father, was like the Cons. But he wasn't...them. So while Peter couldn't see himself slugging the teen in the face anytime soon considering the thought of fighting back making a bout of nausea slink through him, he could prove something right here and now.

He was worthy of his father's praise. At least here. At least at Decathlon.

"Come on, Flash. That's way out of li-" Ned began to shout, only for Peter to effectively cut him off.

"1,429 miles." He murmured, voice quiet but sharp. Everyone fell silent at that, even Mr. Harrington, who had been about to intervene once he caught sight of Flash overrunning the practice...yet again.

"And if you want that in yards, it's 2,515,040." He continued, voice cold as he retorted back. "Or maybe in feet, which would make it 7,545,120." He folded his hands together on the desk. "Wanna go for inches?"

Silence filled the auditorium, wide eyes boring into Peter's skin as the teen continued to meet Flash's stare, the latter of whom now finding himself at a loss for words. It wasn't so much the answer that Peter had given, nor the fact that he had a surplus to give considering each and every one of the members on the team could have figured out that particular problem.

No, it was the fact that Peter hadn't even needed to write anything down, hadn't needed to set it up. He just...knew. With only a few moments of thought he knew.

"Well?" Michelle asked with a knowing smirk now plastered onto her face as she glanced over at Flash. "Is he right?" She called, though she already knew the answer to her question. They all did. Even Flash.

Said boy tore his eyes away from Peter, glanced over at the other team members for a split second before turning down towards the card. The unsureness that had washed over his face at Peter's answers quickly morphed back into detached annoyance as he tossed the card over his shoulder. "Doesn't matter. This doesn't prove anything." He snapped, though his voice betrayed his unease.

"It proves one thing." Ned laughed from his seat.

"That there's a reason he's on this team," Abe called from his seat.

"And why you're first alternate," Cindy smirked as she folded her arms over her chest and leaned back in her chair.

Peter could feel his face heating slightly at the praise his teammates were giving him, shrinking in his seat slightly and throwing them all small smiles as they beamed over at him. Flash, on the other hand, looked like a teapot ready to burst from the inside, fists curling at his sides as he glared at them. "Whatever. You'll see for yourselves next weekend. I'm right. I know I am." He sneered before stomping back to his seat.

"Ch'yeah. That ain't the only thing you are." Michelle muttered from the podium, the others snickering at that before the girl threw out another question and practice began once more, Peter now feeling no chains of hesitation as he buzzed in right alongside his teammates, Flash decidedly staying quiet for the remainder of their session.

 

---

 

Thursday - April 7, 2016

Queens, NY -  2765 Springshore Dr.

03:20 p.m.

The car screeched ever so slightly as Happy pulled up alongside the street, Tony craning his neck to glance out the back window. He stared up at the building before him and couldn't help but scrunch his face slightly in confusion.

"You sure this is the place, Tony?" Happy called from the front.

"...uh, sure."

Springshore was known for housing some of the richer, more well-off residents of Queens, numerous CEOs, entrepreneurs, and other high-end rollers settling in the neighborhood which was known for its fancy townhouses and extravagant architecture.

One such example of this would be Richard Parker himself, whose house was situated just across the street from where Tony was parked. The billionaire resisted glancing behind him at the tall building, the structure - though dark and empty at the moment - still giving him a strange vibe that made his stomach curl slightly.

So it was for this reason that Tony stared at the houses on the other side of the street in mild confusion, the side of the street he was currently parked on. Contrasting the lavish, top-tier houses on the other side of the road, these houses were anything but. In fact, they resembled more of the commonly-found apartments and run-down tenements that littered the streets of Queens. And the house he currently found himself parked outside of was no different.

The white paint was stained and peeling, matching the weary, chipped tiles and straining slats of the roof alongside the creaking window panes. The brick steps were dark and dirty, and the wooden banister outside the door had definitely seen better days. Still, there were a few flowers planted along the grass and newly sprouting buds growing in the flower beds underneath the windows, pushing past the melting snow to reach the sun.

If he were to sum the house up in one word, Tony would probably describe it as...quaint. Definitely not something he'd ever stay in, but functional nonetheless.

He took another moment to simply stare at the building before opening the car door and slowly stepping out. "Stay here, Hap. This shouldn't take too long."

"I don't know, Tony. Maybe I should come with you."

"Oh, yeah. You know what? I think you're right. Lord knows how I'll manage to defend myself against the little old lady on the other side of that door. She could have a cat in there. She could have two cats in there."

The man smirked down at his driver as Happy threw him an unimpressed look before reaching over to the passenger seat and pulling up a magazine, flicking it open more harshly than needed before pointedly turning away from Tony as he began to read it.

The billionaire couldn't help the chuckle that rose out of his throat.

With all that had changed in his life over the past few months, it was nice to have a few consistencies, mainly that bugging Happy never got old. Like...ever.

Currently dressed in jeans and a plain black T-shirt with a thick leather jacket overtop, Tony hoped the outfit was casual enough to not draw any unwanted attention as he walked up the steps and stopped in front of the door.

Feeling a strange sense of unease wash over him, Tony found himself hesitating as he stared at the worn-down door in front of him. His fingers twitched at his sides and he could hear his heart thumping just a little bit louder. Stealing a deep breath and shaking the ridiculous notions out of his head, the man lifted up his hand and curled his fingers into a fist, reaching out towards the wooden structure.

The door swung open before he could so much as graze it, the man rearing back slightly in surprise. The woman standing on the other side of the door was obviously just as surprised as he was, jumping in shock as a strangled gasp fell from her lips and she pressed a hand to her chest.

Taking a second to catch his breath, Tony stared back at the woman and found himself mildly surprised. She wasn't what he'd been picturing. Instead of a sweet older lady in her mid to upper sixties, this woman was on the younger side, probably only in her early thirties. She had chocolate brown hair that swept past her shoulders, clear, ivory-tanned skin, and light hazel eyes that reminded the billionaire of his intern's.

She didn't look like the sweet neighborly soul. She looked...hot.

Now, the old Tony Stark probably would have made a move on her right then and there, catching her attention with some cheesy pick-up line and waving around his money. But his affinity for women had taken a sharp decline after Pepper. There just wasn't much...motivation there anymore. Not when every woman he met couldn't hold a candle to his ex.

Besides, he was here for another matter entirely, one that took top priority.

"May Brenner?"

The woman, having taken a second to compose herself as well, lifted her head to meet his gaze, neither of the two saying anything for a second as they simply stared at one another. The billionaire waited for the plain shock in her eyes to transform into awe, confusion, or any of the other starstruck looks that people always got whenever they suddenly found themselves in his presence.

However, he was not expecting her look of surprise to morph into one of resignation and...frustration?

The woman straightened up, not frantically as if she were trying to correct herself for him, but slowly and with precise movements, never taking her eyes off of him as if he were some wild animal about to pounce on her the second she turned away.

Suddenly finding himself feeling even more awkward than before, Tony decided to try and initiate the conversation once more. "You...you are May Brenner, right? I've got the right house?"

He waited for her to reply, only for her mouth to give no twitches of movement. Instead, she continued to stare at him, her hips cocking out slightly as she folded her arms over her chest. "I was wondering when you'd finally show up." She murmured softly, voice sharp and hard despite its quiet characteristics. Tony felt like a teenager about to be scolded by a parent or a teacher.

Safe to say, the feeling was not one he enjoyed.

"Sorry?" He asked in a confused tone, cocking a brow as he tried to play off the uneasy nerves currently prickling at his skin. It wasn't very hard to do, but the fact that he had to do it at all was what bothered him.

The woman - May, he'd have to presume, considering she hadn't told him otherwise - said nothing once again as she simply stepped aside and gestured for him to come inside the house. After taking a second to process the current turn of events, the man found himself walking inside of the little building. Stepping into what he could assume to be a living room of sorts, the man tried not to make it obvious as he glanced around and scoped out the area.

The living room was small, with a two-person couch pushed back against the wall and a plush recliner with a few tiny rips in the corners, small pieces of felt dribbling from the holes and onto the wooden surface below. The kitchen could be seen farther into the room and a hallway off to the side led to a few wooden steps that trailed off towards a second floor before disappearing from sight.

May gestured towards the couch. "Make yourself comfortable. I'm sure it's not all that hard for you." She called as she walked over towards the kitchen. "Anything to drink? Water? Tea? Coffee?" She asked as she opened up her fridge.

The itching call of coffee made Tony's mouth water, but deciding to just get this meeting over with as soon as possible considering the tense atmosphere that was obviously present, the man decided not to prolong their talk. "No, I'm fine. Thank you." He murmured as the woman walked back over with a glass of water for herself. She sat down on the edge of the recliner and took a sip before setting the glass on the side table next to her.

She pursed her lips and turned to face him, eyes sharp and calculating as she stared at him. Tony stared at her as well only to jolt slightly as he realized she was waiting for him to say something. Geez, what was with him?

"So, you were expecting me?" He asked, hoping to lighten the mood somewhat. "You often get a lot of billionaires showing up on your doorstep?"

The woman shrugged her shoulders. "Too many for my tastes, if I'm being honest," she muttered.

"I can appreciate honesty. Though I think I'm safe in assuming you mean Mr. Parker across the street, right?" Tony asked, tapping his fingers together.

May didn't say anything outright. Her face remained neutral and passive. Tony had to admit, she was good. Over the years, he'd developed a fine eye when evaluating those around him, some people easily being read like an open book and others reserving themselves to deeper chapters and pages that he had to file through just to get to the crux of their personalities. But eventually, he'd always find it. Even if it took a second.

However, with this woman, he could honestly say he wasn't getting anything from her. Nothing but a strange sense of agitation with him that even he couldn't understand. As far as he knew, he'd never even met this woman before today.

Of course, lately, he hadn't been the media's favorite icon so perhaps that had something to do with it.

However, before he could dwell on it anymore, May opened her mouth once more. "So, Mr. Stark, to what do I owe this little visit?" She asked, though her tone of voice let on that she already knew to some degree. How? Tony had no idea.

Maybe leaving Happy in the car was a bad idea.

Still, this was not the time to be hesitant. Not when he'd finally found a lead on the case that was Peter Parker. Ever since their little argument on Saturday, the man hadn't been able to stop thinking of a little tidbit the teen had let him in on in the heat of the moment, mainly concerning one lifelong neighbor.

He cleared his throat and adjusted his position on the couch. "Yeah, well, I wanted to talk to you about Peter Parker."

With that, the woman pursed her lips and nodded her head slowly. The cross look, however, quickly melted into a smile as she lowered her head and chuckled under her breath. "Right..." She breathed softly, fingers tapping against the glass in her hands, the sharp clicks as her nails made contact with the hard surface echoing around the small room as her body seemed to take on a new tense posture.

Tony could already feel something bad was about to happen, if it wasn't already underway.

"Tell me, Mr. Stark," The woman started, harping on his name for a moment too long for it to be casual. "Just what about him would you like to know, hmm? Or more specifically, just what about him do you want me to share with you?"

It was obvious the woman was eluding to something, but Tony, perhaps just hoping to skirt by on feigned ignorance for as long as possible, chose to ignore it as he continued on. "Well...I guess whatever you can give me is good enough."

May nodded as she wet her lips. "Of course. Of course."

She set her glass down on the table before her and crossed her legs. "Well, I suppose there are a number of things I could tell you about him." She started. "I have known him for quite some time. But I'm guessing you already know that." She narrowed her eyes at him and threw the man a small smile.

It only made him squirm.

"I could tell you that his favorite color is yellow of all things, or that he'll eat anything you put in front of him as long as there's a salt shaker nearby, of that he's capable of falling asleep almost anywhere you put him, but..." She trailed off, voice darkening as her face hardened, eyes sharpening. "...something tells me that's not the kind of information you want to know, am I right?" She snapped.

Realizing things were worsening by the second, Tony realized he could no longer keep his mouth shut. "M'am, I-" He started, but the woman was not done. Far from it, actually.

"No. See, I think you're looking for something just a little more specific. Something just a little more useful." She hissed, uncrossing her legs as she leaned forward, the atmosphere in the room so palpable it was almost hard to breathe. Of course, that might have just been Tony.

"Tell me, are you wondering about the kinds of things he tells me? Do you wanna know what he shares with me? Do you wanna know if he's ever told me something that might just be a little too secretive to find anywhere else?"

She was out of the chair now, body tense and rigid as she stood stiff as a board, eyes boring into the man before her. "Do you wanna know if he's told me any secret passcodes that one could use to hack into the database of Parkstem? Do you wanna know if he's told me about the newest models and latest inventions his father's concocted?" She leaned closer, Tony rearing back slightly as she approached.

"Do you wanna know if he's a good enough tool for you? Do you wanna know if it's a waste of your time to trouble yourself with him, or if you're actually gonna get some useful information to use against Parker out of him? Huh?! Is that what you wanna know? Is that what you wanna hear, Mr. Stark?!"

The woman quickly turned on her heel, Tony blinking in shock as she snatched the glass of water off of the table below her. The billionaire slowly and cautiously rose up to his feet as she grabbed the glass and tipped it back violently, the contents draining down her throat before she pulled it away once more, the remaining liquids sloshing around the sides as she slammed it back down onto the table.

Tony knew where this was going. He knew what she was talking about, and it made him sick. It made him just as sick as when Rhodey and Pepper had insinuated it back when he's first gotten into this mess. It made him just as sick as when he'd questioned himself over why he'd agreed to mentor the boy, wondering the same things this woman was for a brief moment before dispelling the thoughts from his mind, assuring himself that such notions couldn't be farther from the truth.

However, convincing the woman before him of such a fact was going to be much harder than it had been to convince himself.

Taking a second to steel himself, Tony finally seemed to find his voice. "Mrs. Brenner, I-"

"You know...I am so sick and tired of people like you." She muttered, effectively cutting him off as she didn't even bother in turning around. He could see her fingernails thrumming against her crossed arms, however, displaying her boiling emotions.

"Rich billionaire assholes who think their money acts as some sort of shield, some...some sort of barrier against any and all consequences that your actions can drum up. Thinking that you can get away with anything because you have the money, the power, and the pull to do anything." She growled, whirling around to throw her glare straight at the man. "But you know, at least Parker tries to cover it up. At least he's a good enough liar to fool those idiots out there into believing that he's some white knight, that he's the best thing to have ever happened to this city as if he's some saint that graces us all with his presence and his multi-billion dollar smile that says 'i can do no harm'!" She snarled, fisting her hands together as she gritted her teeth tightly.

"But you...you just strut around, flashing your money, your power, your name all over the place without a care in the fucking world cause you're Tony Stark and your name says it all! That's all you need!"

Tony couldn't say anything as the woman stalked closer. Couldn't move as her eyes blazed with a fury that burned so pure it could only have been brewing over years of time. It had been years since a complete and total stranger had ever spoken to him with such conviction, such...such rage that the man couldn't do anything but freeze.

And Tony Stark didn't freeze. But these past few months had been full of surprises, so what was one more?

"Well I've had it. I've had it with you people. And I've had it with monsters like you and Parker thinking they can use a little boy however they want! Using him however they see fit without even giving it a second thought, without regretting their actions, without even thinking about him!"

She let out a loud breathy laugh, filled with venom, with pure unadulterated rage. "No. Fuck that. I've had to sit here and watch that psychopath across the street do horrible things to that boy for years without being able to do one goddamn thing about it because that's Richard Parker and I'm some no-name waitress down at the local diner who could definitely use the cash and publicity that would come from making such a claim, which is actually what people would think I'm doing it for. And Peter would be caught in the crossfire."

With that, she leaned forward, their noses nearly touching as she stared at him without flinching, without blinking, without a single care crossing her mind of the repercussions that might come from threatening such a high-power figure like Tony Stark.

"But if you think I'm gonna keep quiet as you come in here and do the same...then you have another thing coming, motherfucker. I may just be one person, but I will do whatever it takes to keep you away from that boy." Her eyes seethed as her words flew from the tongue like daggers cutting through the air. "I won't let you hurt him." With that, she roughly grabbed onto the man's wrist and jerked him towards the door.

"Now get the fuck out of my house."

At her touch, the man seemed to snap out of whatever stupor he'd fallen into as he blinked back into reality and dug his heels into the ground, whirling around to face the woman. "Now hold on a second here-"

"No! I don't wanna hear whatever lies you have to spew, you son of a bitch!" The woman snarled as she raised a hand, seemingly done with restraining herself as she took a swing at him. Tony yelped and ducked under the first, latching onto the woman's wrist.

She growled in response and aimed a kick at the man's shin. Tony buckled slightly but kept his grip tight as he twisted her arm around her back, the woman thrashing as she let out a long string of curses that would make even him real back slightly.

"Would you calm down for one goddamn second here?!"

"I'm calling the cops, you fucker!"

He could feel her nails digging into his skin as he tried to keep her subdued long enough to say what he needed. "Just listen and-"

"Fuck off! Don't you dare hurt that boy!"

"I'm not trying to hurt him! I'm trying to help him!"

Her struggles seemed to weaken slightly at that, but after a second of hesitation she was thrashing about once again. "Oh, shut up you little weasel! Don't pretend that you're doing him any favors! I know you're just biding your time until you get exactly what you want and-"

"I KNOW ABOUT RICHARD!"

May froze, her body going rigid in Tony's grasp. The man panted heavily behind her, grip tight on her wrists as he studied her movements, or lack thereof. He couldn't see her eyes considering he was facing her back, but judging from the tight coiling of her muscles, the man could tell she was struggling with some sort of internal debate.

"What about him?" She asked, voice tight and sharp, though it was obvious she was searching for a particular type of answer.

The man let out a small sign as he released the woman, May quickly whirling around to face him. Tony tensed for a brief second, wondering if she would leap onto him once more, but after a moment passed with no such attack, the man shut his eyes and let out a deep breath.

"I...I know about him. About...what he does."

The woman stared back at him, unmoving and silent as his words rang clear. She swallowed thickly, eyes never leaving the man's face. "And...and just what is it that you know about him?" She asked, though her voice faltered slightly.

Tony gave a small shake of his head. "Not as much as I wish I did, but...I know what he's doing to Peter. Well, at least I think I have a pretty good theory." He growled under his breath just loud enough for the woman to hear. She blinked at him, eyes suddenly filling with something other than anger. "D-did...did he tell you about it?" She whispered, her voice reaching a volume Tony hadn't even known it could reach considering all the yelling that had just taken place.

Assuming she meant Peter, the billionaire shook his head with a small scoff. "No, you kidding? When I tried to pry it out of the kid, he nearly bit my head off with denials. Though that pretty much gave me all the confirmation I needed."

May let out a small bitter laugh at that. "Yeah...I know how that feels." She sighed, rubbing at the back of her neck that Tony noticed was extremely close to what Peter did whenever he was nervous of uncomfortable. May lifted her head to stare back at the billionaire, face falling into a look of solemn confusion. "So you're not trying to exploit him?" She asked softly.

Tony stared at her for a moment before letting a sigh bubble past his lips. "I think we should start from the beginning."

 

---

 

A few minutes later found May walking back out of the kitchen, now wielding two glasses of a liquid that was definitely not water if the amber color was any hit. But at the woman's words of "If there was any a time to drink, I think now seems to be about right", Tony raised no arguments.

She handed him a glass and sat down in the chair opposite him, a loud sigh of exhaustion falling from her lips as she leaned against the back of the chair, brushing a few stray strands of hair out of her face with her one free hand. "I guess everything started around twenty-five years ago." She began. "My husband and I had been great friends with Mary, Peter's mother. We'd gone to college together. She'd studied genetics while my husband had studied engineering and I had worked down in the nursing department."

"Did you know Richard too?"

May tilted her head from side to side. "Not as well as Mary, but...yeah. We knew each other." Her eyes grew thoughtful for a moment. "He was different back then. Nicer. Still a bit of a loner but...nice."

"So...different from the two-faced asshole he is now?"

The woman scowled and shook her head in exasperation, confirming his statement before continuing.

"Anyway, this was before he became this big-shot manufacturer. Before all of that, he was actually a lepidopterist."

"A leper-what now?"

"Lepidopterist. He studied butterflies."

Tony's scoffed in disbelief. "Seriously? That hard-ass used to flit around flower fields all day with a butterfly net in hand?"

May shrugged her shoulders. "It's true. Maybe wasn't the most flashy thing on campus but it sure got Mary's attention." She muttered with a roll of her eyes. "They fell for each other our sophomore year and stuck to each other like glue after that." She sighed, a look of sorrow morphing her features before she blinked back into reality and took a sip of the scotch. "After graduation, we all went our separate ways and it just happened to be random chance that we all ended up in the same neighborhood years later. But...things had changed. Richard had changed."

Tony's eyes narrowed, the similar sinking feeling he got whenever he noticed Peter trying to cover up a bruise or stutter out a choked-up response settling into his stomach. "Changed how?"

May scowled. "More like how he is today, only less...severe." She waved a hand before her as she spoke. "Apparently - and this is all from what Mary explained to me - after college, Richard moved into genetics with her. I guess her passions rubbed off on him or something," she explained. "In fact, I actually think I remember her saying something about them working for Oscorp for a time."

Tony cocked a brow. "Oscorp? Really? Or all the places-" He started before trailing off with a shake of his head. "Well, how do you get from working within a 'supposedly' great company to starting one of your own in little less than a year's time?"

May nodded her head at the man's words, swirling the glass in her hands so that the liquid slashed against the sides. "Apparently, there was this huge scandal. Something or other revolving around stolen tech and fraudulent research, but whatever it what, it got Richard fired from Oscorp and his name slandered through the mud. Mary left not long after that." She narrowed her eyes. "Loyal till the end I guess." She muttered.

Tony blinked at the new information he was receiving, information he never would have even begun to think about, let alone search for. All he'd known about Parker was his involvement with Parkstem Labs. All the other record were either inconsequential or sealed and Tony hadn't thought anything of relevance would have been stashed in said files so he'd ignored them.

Obviously, that had been a mistake.

"It wasn't long after that that Peter came into the picture."

The billionaire cocked a brow. "Doesn't really seem like the best time for a baby all things considered."

May let a small smile fall onto her face at that. "That's what I thought too, but...once you saw him...you didn't really care," she chuckled, a small gleam of happiness entering her eyes. "He was just...he was so..." She shook her head. "This was after Richard had been fired so money was pretty tight for them but...Mary made it work. I don't think Peter ever really knew about it cause of how well she hid it," she sighed wistfully.

Tony shifted uncomfortably in his seat, dreading the answer to the question now forming on the tip of his tongue. "And...and Richard? How was he with Peter?"

May shrugged her shoulders. "I wouldn't know. He was always locked away in the basement or out trying to clear his name."

The billionaire felt his fingers tighten around the glass in his hand, stomach churning. "So you don't know if he ever..." He didn't even want to finish.

May's eyes sharpened at that, an intense fire burning within her irises. "Mary would have never let him lay a hand on her son. Not while she was around."

Despite the woman's harsh tone, Tony couldn't help but feel a small piece of the weight hanging in his stomach chip away at that. At least there was some good news in all of this. May swigged another drink before letting out a long sigh. "A few years passed and eventually Richard discarded the genetics field altogether and began to go into manufacturing tech...I guess sort of what you did a couple of years ago."

Tony furrowed his brow. "Yeah, but I have...money. Starting up your own company like that isn't something you pay for out of pocket, especially when you've just been fired from your job and have a wife and kid to look after."

"Well, that's just the thing," May interjected, face twisted into a look of confusion. "Apparently Richard got some funding from an outside investor that helped him with launch."

"Outside investor?"

The woman shrugged her shoulders. "That's all Mary ever told me. Maybe all she knew about it."

Tony glanced away at that, eyes hard in thought as he tried to rack his brain for anybody with the money to invest so much into a risky company. The man made it a point to know people with the money and power to ever interfere with his endeavors, and he could only think of a handful that would maybe try such a thing. Still...the whole thing seemed a little...off to him.

"It wasn't long after that...maybe a month or two that..." May's voice seemed to shift, taking on a much softer tone. "..t-the incident occurred." She cleared his throat before turning to look at him. "Did...did Peter-"

"He told me a little," Tony admitted. "Something about a break-in."

May bit her lower lip before ducking her head away. "I was never told the details." Her voice was almost too quiet for Tony to hear, but interrupting her wasn't something he was about to do."Nobody really was. All I know is that there was an intruder in the house when Mary and Peter were home. Richard told the police he was probably after some of his newly designed models or something like that...but apparently, he found Mary instead."

The woman fell silent for a moment. The billionaire bit the inside of his cheek, unsure of what to do as his fingers tapped nervously against the side of his leg. What he'd told Peter was still valid now: emotions really weren't his strong suit. Thankfully, before the man could dwell on what his next course of action should be, May cleared her throat and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand.

"She was taken to the hospital with two gunshot wounds to the chest and pronounced dead a little while after." She let out a small sniff. "We didn't even have time to make it over there before..."

Tony watched her clear her eyes once more before deeming it safe enough to ask a question. "How did Peter take it?"

"How you'd expect a four-year-old to take it. He didn't really understand it. All he knew was that his mother was gone and that she wasn't coming back."

"And Richard...?"

The woman took another sip from her glass. "We didn't really see much of him. We showed up to the funeral and he didn't say anything," she murmured. "People went up to him, shared their sympathies and condolences and he'd nod along, say a thanks here and there, but...something was off." She growled, voice straining slightly as she continued. "He was sad, you could see it on his face. But...he wasn't sad enough. He was just too okay. He was too...normal, like they weren't putting his wife into the fucking ground. There just...there was just something...wrong about it."

Her grip on the glass tightened as her face turned into a scowl. "He wouldn't even hold Peter's hand."

She blew out a breath and her face calmed. "After that, things...things didn't get better. Those assholes he calls associates moved into the house a little while after that when he was finally making enough money to expand the house. We started seeing less and less of him and more and more of Peter...including some things we didn't want to see on Peter."

Tony felt the weight in his stomach sink even further. "Mary was gone..."

"...so there was nobody to stop him." May finished with snarl. "Don't get me wrong. As soon as we caught wind of it, Ben and I were on it like that." She snapped her fingers, the sound nearly making Tony wince in the otherwise silent room. "But..."

The billionaire narrowed his eyes. "Let me guess. Richard has a way of shaping things exactly how he wants it?"

"People only know what he wants them to know." May growled out. "Besides, he has enough friends in high places to ensure his free reign. Plus, I'm sure you've become aware of Peter's skills in...twisting the truth?"

The man nodded. "Yeah, I've been meaning to ask you about that. It's just that...he seems to be a little pro at lying about...you know." He muttered. "In fact, it's almost not surprising that most people haven't taken any notice cause he's so good at keeping them off his trail. But...when he tries to do the same thing with me...it's like..."

"Like he couldn't talk his way out of a wet paper bag?"

The man raised a brow, a small smirk appearing on his face for the first time since entering the house. "I take it you've noticed too?"

May let out a small snort. "He used to be the same way with me and Ben. He'd come over at night looking absolutely miserable and just...stand there. Tongue-tied and flustered...as if he couldn't form a coherent sentence." Her face grew thoughtful. "It's almost as if...he didn't want to lie to us...so he couldn't. Almost like he...wanted us to know...wanted us to see the truth."

As the woman dwelled on her words, Tony couldn't help but do the same, specifically something she'd said at the beginning.

"Used to be?"

May blinked back into reality and turned to face him. "Huh?"

"You said he 'used to' be the same way with you. Did something happen?"

Considering the woman had been quick to share so much the past hour, Tony was genuinely surprised when she turned her head away and remained silent. Despite the fact that he was desperate for any information he could get in regards to Peter, he knew that he was asking for a lot, especially considering the kind of memories he was making the woman dredge through.

"You don't have to tell me, Mrs. Brenner. I-

"Ben."

The man quickly shut his mouth, watching the woman seem to have some sort of internal battle with herself before deciding to continue. "It...it was around two years ago. Peter had had a particularly rough evening at home and had come here for a little break." She started off, her voice low and slow, almost as if she didn't trust herself to be able to continue. "Ben decided to go and take him out for ice cream to cheer him up. I...I was at work."

Her fingers curled around the glass and around the armrest of the chair she sat in, hands shaking slightly. "Along the way...along the way there was a-a man. A mugger. H-he had a gun. Ben...pushed Peter behind him."

Her voice trailed off after that, more tears spilling down her cheeks as she silently brushed them back.

"I'm sorry." Tony murmured quietly, unsure as to what he could really say. He didn't think there was anything.

It took little longer than before for May to compose herself, but Tony didn't push her. She brushed a strand of hair out of her face and cleared her throat before continuing, red eyes staring into the glass in her hand. "After that, something changed with Peter. He stopped coming over here. He stopped talking to me and...whenever he did, he wouldn't have trouble lying right to my face, as if...as if I were just another stranger he had to convince.

She swallowed thickly before turning to face him. "Peter's a good boy, Mr. Stark." She murmured softly. "Maybe that's why he stopped telling me things. I don't think he wants me to get involved with this anymore. Doesn't want me to be a part of this. Might explain why he gets so frantic any time I bring up exposing his dirt-bag father." She growled, grip tightening on the glass once more.

"It's just...that madman has the power to do whatever he wants whenever he wants without any restrictions, consequences, anything!" She growled. "He can do whatever he wants to that boy and get away with it! Peter used to be such an outgoing, energetic little angel! Now he's some...obedient tool that only ever says what his father wants him to say without question, without any resistance because that asshole has beaten it into him and-"

Before she could say anymore, the glass in her hand shattered, the noise startling both her and Tony as the pieces littered floor beside her foot. She grunted in surprise before stooping down onto her knees, shaky hands attempting to grasp the tiny pieces as she placed them in her palm.

As her trembling hands struggled to pick up a particularly small piece, another, more calloused hand grabbed it instead. Her tear-streaked face lifted to stare into Tony's, the man holding a look of resignation.

"He's just a baby." May whispered as another tear rolled down her face and splattered down next to the glass. "He's just a...j-just a..."

She didn't say any more as the pair continued to collect the glass, brushing the shards onto the table before them. After a moment, Tony seemed to find his voice once again. "Peter...has made it very clear to me that he doesn't want me to get involved with his father's...business." He explained. "Doesn't want me snooping around asking questions."

May shook her head with a sigh. "Sounds like him."

"So...I made a deal with him." Tony continued, unsure as to how the woman before him would respond to such information. "I told him he doesn't have to tell me anything about what goes on in that house and that I would never ask about it and-"

"You what?" May shouted, blinking in shock as she reared back. "How can you expect to help him if you just gave him a free ticket to never talk about it?!"

The billionaire held up his hands. "I know it sounds crazy, but just hear me out." He asked, waiting for May's shoulders to release some of their tension and for her face to fall neutral once more as she sat back on her haunches and motioned for him to go on. The man hesitated for a moment, contemplating what he was really going to say before letting out a long sigh and rubbing the back of his neck. "Look, I know what it feels like to not be able to trust anybody, to...to wonder whether anyone around you is who they say they are or if they're just using you in some way, manipulating you to get what they want." He muttered, mind reeling to decades past. May said nothing as she sat and listened.

"I know what it's like to be...afraid of everything around you," he murmured, glancing down at his hands as he clenched and unclenched them back and forth. "So...I made that deal. I made it so that he won't have to be afraid around me...around the tower." He explained. "He won't have to fear spilling something he shouldn't say, something he shouldn't do. Maybe that way..." He paused for a moment, sucking in a breath before continuing. "Maybe that way he'll actually start taking of his own free will. If...if I can get him to do that...if I can get him to trust me, then..." He lifted his head to gaze back at her. "...then I'll finally be able to help him."

May stared at him for more than a moment, bright hazel eyes boring into dark brown as she seemed to soak up the man's words, searching his face for any and all traces of lies, deceit or malice. Finally, after a moment, she rose up to her feet, Tony quickly mirroring her actions as the two stood off against each other. Licking her lips, the woman gave a small nod of her head.

"I'll do whatever I can to help."

Internally, Tony let out a strained breath. Though, it wasn't all that surprising to find that he'd been nervous about the woman's reaction. After all, taking in Peter's intimate relationship with her, gaining her trust would just be another step on the road to gaining Peter's, a journey that would be all the more difficult if someone the boy trusted and valued didn't hold the billionaire in a certain light.

Nodding his head, the man let a small smirk fall onto his face. "I guess the best thing you can do is...not badmouth me to the kid if you can." He only half-joked.

May smiled as well, lowering her head before giving a small nod. "When Peter told me about this...about this little internship," she started, gesturing to the billionaire. "I was...incredibly skeptical." She muttered before her face softened and her eyes crinkled slightly. "But...you should have seen the look on his face. It...it was a look I haven't seen there for a while." She smiled. "He actually looked...he almost looked...happy." She swallowed the small lump forming in her throat before turning to face the man seriously. "It's been nearly ten years since I've truly seen my baby happy, Mr. Stark. If you can bring that back...if you can bring him back..." Her voice faltered and trailed off, eyes growing misty once more.

Tony stared back at her before giving a nod of his head. "I'll do what I can," he said, his voice more serious and determined than it had been in a long time.

And for the first time since Siberia, Tony felt something change in him, something shift and morph. The anger and sadness and pain began to crack and pulse, transforming into something else, something greater than him: determination. If he could do something good with that despair in him, if he could use it to do something other than make things worse (like he usually found himself doing), then he'd do whatever he could to make it a reality.

He wouldn't fuck this up...no matter what.

He cleared his throat and turned away, the sheer force of emotion filling the room nearly sweeping him off his feet. "I should probably get going. I have somewhere I need to be, actually."

May nodded as they began to walk back over to the front door. "Of course. You know..." She paused once they approached the entrance, Tony already halfway outside as he turned back at her call. "...you're not who I thought you were, Mr. Stark." She murmured, her lips creasing into a smile. "You're not what they say you are. I hope you know that."

His chest pulsed again and his arm gave another phantom twinge of pain as an indistinguishable feeling began to form in his stomach, but the man pushed it back before he could really acknowledge it. He smiled back at her and extended out his hand. "Call me Tony."

The woman stared at him for a moment before sliding her palm into his. "May."

Quickly separating, Tony began to descend the steps of the run-down apartment, making a mental note to bring his city renovations organization over to this side of the city to help transform such buildings. However, as he began to reach for the handle to his car door, the man turned back around. "Oh, and before I forget...is there anything else about Peter than you can think of that I might need to know? It doesn't have to be like...life-altering, but...anything that might come in handy?"

May furrowed her brow in thought, pondering the question for more than a moment where Tony nearly decided to forget about it, until her face lit back up and her mouth curled into a knowing smirk.

"I might have something..."

 

---

 

Thursday - April 7, 2016

Midtown School of Science and Technology - Building 1

04:13 p.m.

"Alright, guys!" Mr. Harrington called from his chair, rising up as he adjusted his glasses. "That's enough for today. Great session, kids." He said with a large grin as he walked over and clapped a hand on Michelle's shoulder, the girl placing the index cards on the podium as the teacher lent a hand of aid. She took it and stepped off the podium, moving over towards the others as they walked off the stage and approached.

"Well this is just great," Charlie muttered as he threw up his hands in exasperation. "It's bad enough having to know all about the literature of Western culture. Now we gotta study up on Africa, too?"

Michelle couldn't help the smirk off her face. "Apparently."

Ned shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know. I don't think it'll be that bad." He chimed in.

"Well, that's kind of easy for us to say, man," Peter said softly. "Physics and math are the same in Africa as they are here." He chuckled, the others doing the same as Abe, Sally and Charles all gave fake pouts of annoyance.

Nevertheless, the teens quickly moved off the topic as they moved over towards the back of the room, where their backpacks and stuff were all strewn about, none of them actually having had the motivation to organize them when they'd first started practice.

"Well, I don't know about you, but my parents sure are excited for this next match." Abe said with a smile, his faint accent leaking through in his words, which had all the other teens nodding their heads along with him...well, almost all the teens.

"I know, right?" Cindy beamed. "My mom is so pumped for this, probably more than me, actually." She rolled her eyes. "Bringing the camera and everything. Probably gonna post it online or something."

Michelle shrugged her shoulders. "Not necessarily a bad thing. We could always use the sponsors and the more people that see us the better so..."

"Yeah, but I don't want hundreds of thousands of people watching me screw up any questions!" She protested.

Peter cocked his head to the side and raised a questioning brow. "Welp, it's a high-school decathlon match, so 'hundreds of thousands of people' seems like a bit of a stretch." He teased, the girl playfully swatting him in the arm.

"Nah, I feel you, Cindy. My parents haven't shut up about this stupid thing. Honestly, I think they just want more stuff to brag to their friends about." Ned mused with a smile, the others chuckling before shrugging their shoulders in agreement.

"I don't know, guys. I think it's safe to assume that we'll have at least one extra chair..." Flash chimed in, the others turning to look at him as he approached, a nasty grin on his face as he stared over at Peter. "...right, Parker?"

The mood instantly shifted as the boy approached, the group seeming to quiet as they all deflated to some degree. Dealing with Flash always seemed to have that effect on them. Peter glowered at the boy. "Leave me alone, Flash."

"Ah, come on, Parker. I'm just playing with you." He grinned as he walked over and placed a tight arm around Peter's shoulder, the boy flinching violently at the touch, his face contorting into a look that almost resembled pain. "It's not like it's your fault your dad doesn't seem to care enough to come to these meets. Maybe he's just trying to save you the embarrassment. I mean, it's gonna be hard enough messing up in front of a crowd of people and your peers, the last thing you need is your dad witnessing it, too. IF anything, he's a pretty realistic guy." He sneered, tightening his hold on the boy. Peter grunted, resisting the urge to push Flash as hard as he could just to get those hands off him, off him, off him!

Thankfully, Ned seemed to pick up on his friend's discomfort, pushing Flash away himself. "Shut up, Flash. Stop being such an ass!"

"Yeah, man. What's your deal?" Charlie growled, face scrunching in annoyance in a similar fashion to his peers.

If Flash noticed the looks, he didn't let it on as he shrugged his shoulders. "Come on, guys. You all know it's true. Parker's old man just doesn't give a rip. Perfectly normal reaction when your kid's below average in pretty much...well, everything." He gave Peter a punch in the arm.

(He's right. He's right. He's right.)

Michelle's hands quickly met her hips as she pursed her lips, eyes blazing in a silent anger seen only in the slight twitching of her fingers. "At least Peter's dad would have something to watch. Your parents have to just sit there knowing their kid isn't good enough to make it on the actual team, so he has to settle for First Alternate." She smirked up at his shocked face. "I'm sure they're very proud."

The boy blinked at her for a few moments, the sounds of the other teammates giggling filling his ears, which were quickly growing red. His face, however, quickly began to match that shade as he glared at her before turning his sharp eyes towards Peter. "At least my parents care about me enough to show up." He snapped with a vicious grin, knowing he'd stuck a nerve when Peter took a small step back.

Instantly, the voices of Peter's teammates rose up in indignation, only for Mr. Harrington to walk over. "Alright, alright, calm down you guys. Save some of this energy for next week." He chuckled, obviously unaware of what their voices had been raising for.

Peter, however, didn't feel like sticking around to listen to the boy's words anymore. Twisting around on his heel, he stooped down and began collecting things into his bag.

"Peter, come on, man. Don't listen to him." Ned called, glaring over at Flash as the boy grinned victoriously. But before Peter could even open his mouth, Flash was speaking once again. "Hey, you know what? Since you keep striking out with your dad, how 'bout you try changing it up? Why don't you go ahead and ask Tony Stark if he can come to the meet." He sneered with a laugh, the other teammates, besides Ned and MJ seeming to back off slightly at that.

Considering most of they were still unsure as to how the whole Stark Internship really played out, their options on defending their teammate were sorely limited.

Peter stared down at his bag, not lifting his head at Flash's words despite the boy's goading. "What's the matter, Penis. Scared your idol won't show up either? Afraid he'll think you're worthless too?"

Peter instantly shot up to his feet, throwing his backpack over his shoulder as he wordlessly began to make his way over towards the exit doors, ignoring the calls of Ned and his teammates, the only voice he could really make out being Flash's.

"Go ahead and face the facts now, Parker! A loser like you won't ever be anything! And everyone around you already knows it!"

The doors slammed shut behind him, the teen letting out a shaky breath as he clenched his backpack straps tightly, hands shaking ever so slightly. He scrunched his eyes shut and gritted his teeth, blinking back the slight veil of mist now covering his irises. Flash was wrong. He knew he was. He always was.

(Not about this.)

Peter ran a hand through his hair as he shrugged his backpack off his shoulder and leaned back against the wall behind him, head resting against it. He'd be lying if he said Flash's words hadn't got to him. But the main point of issue was that they had. That jerk had been bullying him for years, and usually Peter was easily able to block them out. To ignore them and keep on moving.

But today...something about them. Something just made him squirm, made that room too suffocating to be in. And the sad thing was...Peter knew why, despite what he tried to convince himself.

Flash was right.

He was right about his father. Every word. There was no way his dad would ever want to come to the meet. To him, it wasn't even a blip on his radar. Not even worth glancing at...just like him. It always seemed like the things he was good at...his father never seemed to care about. Mathematics, physics, building Lego sets, cooking...none of it seemed to click with his father. None of it was worth noticing.

No...all he seemed to notice were the things Peter couldn't do. He noticed every time Peter stumbled during training. He noticed every time the boy was late coming home. He noticed every time he took one step out of line.

Sometimes it made Peter wonder...if the bad stuff was the only thing his father would ever notice...then what was the point of trying the good stuff?

Why bother?

The boy sighed and pulled his backpack up onto his shoulder once more, scrubbing tiredly at his face as he pushed off the wall and began to shuffle across the lawn of the school, head down as he made towards the sidewalk.

A sudden honk by the road had the teen jumping near out of his skin. He whipped his head up and balked at the sight of a sleek car pulling up beside him. The back window slid down, revealing the smirking face of one Tony Stark.

"Feel like playing hookie?"

Peter blinked at him before cocking a brow. "School already ended...like, two hours ago."

"...Feel like doing some extra-curricular activities?"

"You mean like Decathlon? You know...the thing I just finished and-"

"Just get in the car, kid."

Peter couldn't keep the grin - albeit a confused one - off his face as he walked over towards the door on the other side of the car and opened it, sliding into the seat next to Mr. Stark, the man currently scrolling on his phone with one leg resting atop the other. "Step on it, Happy." The man called to their driver, the car pulling away from the curb before Peter could rethink and go back on his decision to enter.

The teen quickly strapped on his seat belt before awkwardly glancing over at Tony. "Umm..." He murmured, rubbing the back of his neck as he threw the window next to him a sidelong glance. Tony set his phone down and looked over at the teen, unable to suppress the small smirk that grew onto his face at knowing exactly what the boy was thinking.

"Not that I'm not...happy to see you, M-Mr. Stark, cause I am! I mean, it's...it's cool and all you coming to my school...especially after hours so nobody sees me with you and- Not that I don't wanna be seen with you! It's just..." The boy seemed to bite down on his tongue as his face grew a little redder.

The billionaire gave a small roll of his eyes. Despite the growing amount of times the two had spent together, Peter still couldn't stop acting like a stuttering mess at times.

"Relax, kid. I'm not about to kidnap you or anything." The man finally said.

Peter opened his mouth to reply, only to tilt his head at the billionaire's words. "Well, I mean...you still haven't really t-told me where we're going so...I kinda think we're on the verge of a kidnapping." He murmured with a cocked brow a a small hint of a smile.

Tony scoffed and rested his arm against the lip of the seats. "Trust me, kid. If I wanted to kidnap you, I'd do it in a much more original way." He noted. "Something that lets you know you're definitely being kidnapped by Tony Stark."

Peter couldn't help the small snicker that escaped his lips before clearing his throat, his face now noticeably brighter than when he'd first entered the car, something Tony took small pride in. "Alright, so why are you...almost kidnapping me?"

Tony inwardly winced at that, realizing he hadn't really come up with a great excuse as to why he'd been near the school. He couldn't just say he'd come from the tower cause that drive alone was nearly half an hour and Peter would ever believe that he'd driven all that way just to pick him up from school on a day where they weren't even meeting at the tower. Hell, Tony would never believe that cause it's something he'd never do.

Then there was always the option of telling Peter the truth; telling him the real reasons for him being in the neighborhood. And yet, something told him that such a conversation wouldn't go over well with either of them. After all, not even a week ago, he'd promised the kid he wouldn't go snooping into his life and he was literally only there because he'd been trying to dig up information on the kid from the only person he semi-trusted.

Yeah, so that was definitely out.

"What? I can't just drop by for a hello?" He hoped the pure confidence he was exuding would be enough to fool the boy.

Unfortunately for him, however, Peter was a pretty smart kid.

Peter furrowed his brow and tilted his head. "Something tells me Tony Stark doesn't just drop by places for a friendly hello?" The teen murmured as his body shifted slightly, Tony just barely picking up on the twitching of Peter's fingers against the leather seats as his eyes narrowed ever so slightly

The billionaire hesitated for a moment before deciding to stick to the confidence route as he shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly. "Yeah, you got me there, kid. Truth be told, I was already in the neighborhood."

With that, Peter's posture shifted even more as his face fell into a shroud of distrust as he fully narrowed his eyes and scrunched his nose, staring the man up and down as if the answers themselves were tattooed to his skin if he could just find them. His hands now fully curled around the edge of the seats as his muscles coiled underneath his shirt sleeve. "Uh-huh..." His voice practically dripped unease. "...And, uh...why was Tony Stark in the neighborhood and not at his Tower?"

Tony turned his head and stared down at the boy, Peter seeming to shrink ever so slightly underneath the man's gaze but still holding his own as he waited for the man's answer. Knowing now was not the time to start backing down, the billionaire narrowed his eyes as well, almost seeming to challenge the teen as he answered. "Avengers stuff." He finally answered. "Secretive Avengers stuff, actually. Secretive as in 'not the type of thing you share with nosy interns'." He said.

Something about the man's answer seemed to flick a sort of switch in Peter, for the boy immediately lost whatever fire had begun to burn in him as his eyes glanced away towards the ground and his shoulders loosened and sagged ever so slightly. "Right..." He murmured softly, fingers continuing to softly twitch against the leather.

The man silently cursed himself for the answer, wondering if maybe he could have handled the situation better before shaking the thoughts out of his head. Since when did Tony Stark doubt himself? Maybe he really was just having a bad day.

Nevertheless, there was a reason he hadn't just gone straight back to his tower after meeting with May and he planned on fulfilling such a task.

"But now that you mention it..."

Peter glanced back over to him as Tony spoke again.

"...super secretive Avengers shit can really work up an appetite." Tony let out a loud melodramatic sigh before shoving Peter's shoulder, the teen jumping slightly as the sudden touch. "So you know any good places to eat around here?"

Peter stared at the man for a moment, mind reeling from the sudden shift both he and Tony had just performed within literal seconds, going from slight tension to lackadaisical joking. It was...strange to say the least, but Peter couldn't say he wasn't revealed by the shift in focus.

The teen felt a small smile form on his face as he gazed at the man before him.

"Yeah...I might know one."

 

---

 

Thursday - April 7, 20

57th Street, Queens NY - Delmar's Deli-Grocery

04:32 p.m.

"You know, Pete. When a place claims to have the 'best sandwiches in Queens' you'd think they'd be able to afford tables."

Peter couldn't help but giggle as he glanced over at Mr. Stark, who was grimacing at the curb they were currently seated upon, heir legs stretched out in front of them. Tony murmured a silent thanks that he wasn't wearing one of his more expensive outfits today considering the amount of potential gum and grime they were now seated upon.

The teenager beside him, however, didn't seem all that bothered as he simply shrugged his shoulders. "It adds to the ambiance."

"Thinking it adds more to a health code violation."

Peter threw the man a crooked look. "Mr. Stark...Rhodey told me that when you were in college, you got drunk and ate a burrito you found stuck to the bottom of his car floor for three bucks."

"Hey, I got three bucks. If anything, I won that scenario."

"Apparently, you also won a week's worth of food poisoning, too."

"Fucking...I'm never letting you hang out with Rhodey anymore. He's tarnishing my image in your impressionable eyes."

They both were unable to suppress their laughter that time right as Mr. Delmar walked out, a bag in hand. "What's up with this, little Boss-man? You making friends with people other than me? How could you?"

Peter glanced up at him and gave a smile of his own. "Sorry, Mr. D. I'll be sure to buy extra sandwiches to make up for it."

The older man gave a fake grumble of annoyance. "Yeah, yeah." He muttered as he shoved the bag into the teen's hands. "You say that now. You know, I should charge you extra now that you got a billionaire for a friend."

"Fair enough," the teen said with a shrug, Delmar cracking a smile of his own as he shook his head and walked back into the store.

Tony stared at the kid and blinked while a smirk made its way onto his face. "My, my. Look at you. Seems little Peter isn't as shy as he appears." He teased as Peter handed him his sandwich.

The teen merely shrugged his shoulders. "I've known Mr. Delmar for as long as I can remember. He's practically family at this point."

"Hmm...seems like a happy guy."

"Uh, yeah...speaking of happy...Are you sure Happy's alright with just sitting in the car like that?"

"Nope. I'm sure he's hating every second of it."

"Mmm...you're a good friend."

"Mm-hmm" The man mumbled as he unwrapped the sandwich Peter had given him before taking a bite. The teen beside him couldn't withhold the smirk that spread onto his face as he watched Tony's eyes grow comically wide at the first taste.

"I'm buying this restaurant."

"Wha - no. It's not even a restaurant."

"I'm buying this - what is this place?"

"It's a bodega."

"I'm buying this goddamn bodega."

Peter laughed and gave a small shake of his head before going back to his own sandwich, taking a bite right as Tony turned towards him. "So, why were you staying so late after school today?" He asked, ignoring the fact that he already knew the answer in favor of getting the kid to speak.

"We had Decathlon practice today. We have it every Tuesdays and Thursdays to prepare for the different types of meets and tournaments we have every couple of weekends."

"Decathlon. Isn't that just like Jeopardy but in club form?"

The teen chuckled. "Basically. I mean, everyone on the team specializes in one main thing, chemistry, literature, history, all that jazz. So we don't have to know everything about everything. Just...everything for your specific specialty."

"Uh-huh. So what do you specialize in?"

Peter shrugged. "Math and physics."

Tony took another bite of his sandwich. "How many people are on this team of yours again?"

"Uh...seven, with one alternate in case one of us gets sick or anything."

The billionaire furrowed his brow. "Right, so with all those nerds-in-arms, how come I only ever hear two names leave your mouth when you talk about friends. What are they again? Ted and CJ?"

"Ned and MJ."

"Whatever. My question still stands."

Peter glanced down at his sandwich for a moment before giving a small shrug of his shoulders. "I...I don't know." He murmured, voice growing much softer than it had been moments ago, almost as if he were less sure of himself. "I mean, those guys are great, don't get me wrong. They're...they're really nice and - well, most of them are really nice but let's not get into that." He quickly added when he saw Mr. Stark look as if he wanted to ask about that.

"It's just...I don't know. People...people aren't really my...strong suit."

Tony furrowed his brow. "Not making a whole lot of sense, kid."

Peter gave another hurried shrug of his shoulders, seeming to tense slightly. "I don't really know how to explain it. It's just..." He seemed to struggle to find the right words. "People are so...unpredictable."

The billionaire paused for a moment. "Alright..." He said slowly, coaxing the teen to continue.

"It's like...okay, look. You deal with numbers all the time, right?"

"Pretty crude way of describing it, but yeah. I guess you could say it like that. I prefer 'rocking bomb-ass mathematics into super cool robot suits', but whatever floats your boat."

Peter turned away once more. "Well, either way, you gotta know what I'm talking about, right? Numbers, equations...they're just so...stable. So steady. Numbers, infinite as they may be, are still so finite at the same time. So absolute. They never change. They never falter. There's never a surprise, never a shock when you're dealing with formulas and patterns. Everything is laid out nice and neat. The answer's always there if you can just find it. There's always a pattern there if you can just pick it out."

Tony said nothing as Peter glanced down at the ground, eyes seeming to fill with something unreadable.

"Numbers don't lie...People do." The teen murmured softly. "Math, physics, all that is just...safer. I guess I'm just...better suited for a lab than a house party."

Tony stared at him for a moment before turning away. "Sounds pretty lonely, kid." He murmured.

Peter said nothing for a second before giving another shrug of his shoulders. "Lonely's not always bad."

"No...but it can get pretty exhausting. Trust me. I know." And he did know, cause everything Peter had just said was exactly how he'd used to feel in college, when he was locked in his dorm room ignoring Rhodey's pleas for him to get out and socialize. He'd given the same excuse, albeit with a lot more snark and rude hand gestures while locking himself in the bathroom as his roommate threatened to break down the door if he didn't go out to Shauna Murphy's party.

Peter continued to stare down at the ground, face hardening slightly as he scrunched up his nose in displeasure. "Yeah, well. Even if I wanted to, most people at school would only wanna hang out cause they know my dad's got a ton of money and there's no way I'm dealing with that so..." He glared down at a crack on the concrete. "I don't have much choice now, do I?"

Tony reared back ever so slightly at the teen's harsh tone before Peter backpedaled. "Sorry...I don't mean to be rude."

The billionaire scoffed. "Kid, I don't think your definition of rude really matches up with mine," he chuckled, falling quiet when he noticed the teen's face remained passive and downcast. The man blew out a small breath, rubbing the side of his face before shrugging his shoulders, hoping his casual and laid-back posture might encourage the boy next to him to do the same.

"But, I know how you feel, Pete. Anyone at MIT who didn't hate me for my attitude was trying to suck up to me for my money. It was either one or the other. There was never any happy medium. Just two sides of a pretty fucked up coin."

Peter fiddled with the paper wrapper of the sandwich. "How'd you deal with it?"

"Same way you're dealing, I guess. Focusing more on math and science than on people. Figured it was just easier that way." The man paused for a moment. "Of course, there were also staggering amounts of drugs and alcohol thrown into the mix so maybe there are some slight deviations in our stories."

"I don't know, Mr. Stark. You don't know what I do behind the dumpsters during lunch."

The man threw a weak glare over at the boy currently giving him a small smirk, Tony shoving the teen lightly in the shoulder. "Ha ha, Parker. Trust me, if I ever catch whiff of you doing even half of the shit I used to do, you'll be scrubbing the oil off of each and every surface in my lab for months. And you'll need a ladder cause DUM-E gets that shit everywhere."

Peter chuckled. "Okay, okay. Message received."

Tony gave a small smile before drifting back to the topic at hand. "Like I said, back then, I basically did what you're doing now. And I can admit now, it wasn't the healthiest thing for me."

The boy said nothing as he let out a small sigh and glanced over at the man beside him, hazel-brown eyes flashing with so much emotion held within that Tony nearly had to look away as they fell on him, each and every flicker of gold hidden within them seeming to pierce his chest with each shift. "So...what did you do?"

Tony swallowed the small lump that had formed in his throat at the realization that Peter was asking him for advice, in his own subtle way. He wanted the man's help. Even if it was for something minuscule as to how do deal with social pressures that come with school and their suffocating hallways.

Still...it was a start.

The man smiled. "Welp, I guess I took a page out of your book. The few friends I did have, I stuck to like glue. Or course, your current friend group of a whopping two people technically is double what I had in college so I kinda can't fault you for that."

He hesitated for a moment before reaching ha hand out to place on Peter's shoulder. Expecting the slight flinch that he felt underneath his fingers, the man tried not to let it bother him too much this time. "People are complicated, kid. I'll give you that. But that doesn't mean you cut them all out." He murmured, feeling the thick irony of his words hitting him full force as he thought back to the bottles of liquor in his lab sitting and waiting for him.

"And yeah, it's hard branching out. So much so that I never even bothered back then. So if it seems like a bit much now, then that's fine. But you still need people you can rely on. People you can depend on. So whether that's two people or twenty people, any number is good enough. Or, how 'bout this? Any positive number is good enough." He added with a wink.

Peter smiled up at him. "I get the picture." He murmured before crumpling up the piece of paper than had been in his hands. "Thanks."

Tony removed his hand from the boy's shoulder and let out a small sigh as he turned back to stare out at the street before them. "Don't mention it, little Boss-man."

The teen chuckled and shook his head, only to think back to earlier in the afternoon when he'd been fidgeting in his Decathlon seat. The teen bit his lower lip and twitched his fingers slightly as he contemplated asking what was resting on his tongue.

(Don't do it.)

(Why would he care?)

"You know..." He started before he could think better of it. "For Decathlon...t-there's...um...ther- we have a championship meet c-coming up...coming up in a week, in case...if you wanted to...go."

Tony glanced over at the teen in mild surprise, obviously not having expected the teen to fumble out an invitation. Peter's face flushed red as he fiddled with the bottom of his shirt. The billionaire gave a small shrug of his shoulders. "Nerd tournament, huh? I'll see if I can squeeze it in."

Having been expecting an outright refusal, Peter's eyes lit up in surprise at the man's response before he ducked away again and hastily nodded his head.

A small ghost of a smile fell onto Peter's face, only for him to jump in shock as he saw something flash before his eyes. "Gah!" He grunted as he hunched over and rubbed his fists against the skin over his eyes, trying to blink back the dots that were flashing before him.

"What the -" Was all the man next to him had time to say before more flashes were going off in their faces, along with a growing number of voices all increasing in volume as people seemed to flood in from each and every direction.

"Goddamn it." Tony growled right as another flash made him duck his head away. He'd been hoping the casual look of his clothes and of the car they'd been driving would be enough to stall the paparazzi storm long enough for him and the kid to have a quiet time together before booking it out of the public eye, but of course, that wasn't the case.

The flood of unintelligible questions began to float around the air as the crowd of people with flashing cameras continued to grow around them. "Is this how it always is for you?!" Peter shouted over the hysteria as Tony stepped in front of him, hoping to shield the teen from the flurry of lights around them.

"Pretty much, kid!"

"This sucks!"

"Could be worse! They could be snapping pics while you vomit uncontrollably after winning a three-dollar bet! Still counting that as a victory, by the way!" He shouted back while Peter laughed into the back of the man's shirt.

A large force pushing and shoving past the mob had Tony visibly relaxing in relief as Happy smacked a camera out of one extra-pushy man's hands. Reaching the pair before him, Happy latched onto Tony's wrist while the billionaire grabbed onto Peter, the three forming some sort of human chain as they began to fight their way back to the car.

The voices around them continued to mingle and mix right up until they were nearly leaping into their car, the slamming of the doors effectively locking the screaming voices outside with their owners as the mob tried to push their cameras as close to the windows as possible. The frenzy didn't die down as they pulled out of the parking lot and sped away as fast as possible.

Peter watched through the window as the mob slowly got smaller and smaller as they drove away before sitting back up in the seat once again, glancing over at Mr. Stark, whose face held a mixture of annoyance and resignation, as if he'd dealt with such scenarios for all his life.

Peter was almost sure he had been.

"Should...should I be worried about that?"

Tony glanced over to him and gave a small shake of his head. "Forget about them, Pete. They were more focused on me than you anyways." He murmured, Peter giving a small nod of his head in reassurance. He remained silent for a moment before glancing back up at the man. "Um, Mr. Stark? T-thanks for taking me out today. It...it was nice." He threw the man a small smile. "I liked it."

Tony stared at him for a moment before giving a small smile of his own and lightly punching the teen in the arm. "Yeah? I liked it too, Underoos. Nice to get away from five-star dining and enjoy a good sidewalk sandwich."

Peter chuckled at that as Tony leaned forward and knocked on the barrier currently up between them and Happy up front. After a second, the screen came down and Happy glanced at them from the mirror.

"Parker residence, Hap." The billionaire called, to which the driver gave a small nod of his head. "Oh, and play some music while you're at it. What are you driving? A hearse?"

The man up front gave a large roll of his eyes before lifting up the barrier once more. After a second, a light melody began to play through the car, Peter nearly doing a double-take as he heard just what it was.

He quickly turned towards Tony, brow cocked as an incredulous smile worked its way onto his face "Are you listening to Wham!?"

Silently praising his own victory while also giving thanks to May and her know-how when it came to her faux-nephew, the man feigned an innocent look. "I'm more a Led Zeppelin, Black Sabbath kind of guy, but I'm willing to mix it up every now and then." He made sure to hide his distaste well as he heard the disbelieving scoff the kid let loose. In all honesty, Tony would have never been caught dead listening to crap like this, but in that moment, he was willing to make a few sacrifices.

The truth was that the man didn't like listening to music that threatened to put him to sleep. In reality, he really only liked those other bands because their music was loud, jarring and more likely to keep him up whenever he pulled his all-nighters. Anything else was just too...calm.

Of course, the teen next to him didn't pick up on the man's well-hidden displeasure, for he was too busy trying to stifle a chuckle. "Sorry. It...my gosh, it just...it reminds me of my mom fighting with our neighbors."

"Yeah? How so?" Like he didn't already know.

"Well, they were always bickering about music. They were both super into it, had CDs stacked miles high with all sorts of bands from the 70s, 80s, you know, old people music."

"Gee, thanks."

The teen threw him an apologetic smile. "Sorry. You know what I mean. Music like this. Where the music videos feature people in leg-warmers with frizzy hair, neon lights and mandatory seizure warnings at the beginning."

Alright, the billionaire gave a little chuckle at that.

The teen smiled, face growing thoughtful for just a moment. "Anyway, they were always going back and forth, arguing which band they should introduce me to, which ones I would like more, stuff like that. Meanwhile, I was four so I wasn't really interested in anything that wasn't brightly colored or shaped like a crayon. I always thought it was dumb back then, listening to all their stuff. But now...I don't know. I guess it's not so bad."

Tony gave a small chuckle. "Guess we'll have to make you a playlist in the lab, then."

The teen's smile grew wider at that as he gave an eager nod of his head before tuning back into the song. As the car gently rolled down the busy New York streets and Peter silently tapping his foot to the melody, Tony found himself slowly doing the same. In fact, it was hard to keep a grin off of his face as the man witnessed a rare moment of genuine joy spreading across Peter's face, wishing with all his might that such a look could be a permanent fix on the teen's features.

But for now, a single fifteen-minute car ride would do, with music he had to admit...he didn't totally hate.