Chapter Text
Peter tossed and turned all the past couple of days every time he tried to sleep.
He had been home for almost a week and he still found himself scared to close his eyes and drift off. To make himself vulnerable.
If he wasn't awake then there could be rough hands grabbing him, tying him down.
What if he closed his eyes and when he opened them he was in the 10x10 concrete room again, hands cuffed together.
Logically, Peter knew they got out. Logically he knew that he didn't hallucinate the whole thing and he had been lucky to survive after the damage his healing factor took from the torture.
Part of him was still scared to close his eyes at night.
What if it became a memory so repressed that he forgot? A memory so repressed that his brain began to shut down again like it did all those years ago and he was nothing but the shell of someone. He owed it to himself not to push everything so far down into his psyche that his subconscious remembered but he didn't.
He owed it to himself to remember. He just didn't like the subsequent nightmares that were bound to follow.
He was released from the medbay a few days ago, still on bedrest and on strict orders to not go swinging around Queens by "I'm not that kind of doctor" Banner. (Who, as it turns out, sort of is that kind of doctor.)
Tony had offered to stay with him as he fell asleep tonight. He knew Tony could tell that the circles under his eyes weren't fading, but were progressively getting worse. Darkening like a bruise.
He knew Tony was worried because he should be healed by now, but his healing factor won't get its ass in gear because Peter can't find it in him to sleep for more than an hour at a time.
The night had been like every other few nights out of the medbay. After Tony left, Peter rolled over onto his side and stared out the window for hours, unable to let his eyes droop. Once he got tired of that, he would move to his desk and do some extra studying because he's already missing so much school. (Tony and May not knowing that he's doing homework at One AM is for their own good. That's what he tells himself.)
Every other night he would have studied until the heard Pepper shuffling found the hallway, getting ready for work, and he would quickly throw himself into his bed, pretending to be asleep.
Unfortunately, it seems the last few nights finally caught up with him.
One second Peter was trying to stomach doing another calculus equation through his pounding headache, and the next he was back in the room.
The room.
The 10x10 cells, his wrists sore and bloody from being roughed around in the cuffs. Tony nowhere to be seen.
Peter screams and cries, because no he can't do this again. He won't let the guard get close to him.
He can't fight him off when he's thrown on the floor and his hands are grabbing him- he can't escape this time. The guard laughs in his face, Peter feels himself cry out and beg to be let go, but the man only gets more aggressive.
"Hey!" The man yelled, inches from his face," Hey! Peter!"
Peter kept kicking, unwilling to stop fighting.
"Peter!"
Get off! Get off!
"Peter!"
The hands from the guard disappeared and he found himself back in his room at the tower.
He blinked away the fog from his eyes, wondering how he ended up on the floor by his desk, when he saw the familiar figure crouched down next to him.
"Tony?"
"Hey, kid," Tony smiled. He reached a hand out but hesitantly pulled it away," you with me?"
It was just a dream. It was just a dream.
Peter felt himself sag in relief, tension leaving his muscles.
"I- it felt- so real-"
Tony's frown deepened in concern, he scooted closer to the boy, his hands hovering like he wasn't sure if he should touch him or not.
"You're okay, kid, you're at the tower. None of it was real."
Except it was real wasn't it. Maybe it didn't happen tonight. But it did happen...
The silence stretched on for a long time. Neither of them made a move to say anything, both content with staring at the floor respectively.
After what felt like ages, Tony cleared his throat.
“You want to talk about it?” He whispered.
Peter tensed, his shoulders going up to meet his ears in a casual shrug.
“I- uh,” He paused for a moment,” No. I don't.”
More silence.
“You know you can talk to me?”
“I know.”
“You don't have to do this on your own.”
“There's nothing to do on my own.”
The two were silent again, the only thing that could be heard was the AC rushing through the vents, and the white noise of the city hundreds of feet below them.
“I don't think you're alright, kid. And it's okay that you're not.”
“I'm fine.”
“This has gone on for long enough-”
“I'm fine!”
“No- I've watched you torture yourself for the past week. I can't stand by and watch you do this to yourself anymore-”
"I said I don't want to talk about it!" Peter nearly screamed, his voice wavering on hysterics.
Tony paused, going rigid at the volume of his voice.
"I-im sorry…" Peter slumped back against the wall like a puppet whos strings had been cut, a small cry escaping his lips.
"No, I shouldn't have pushed, it's alright, kiddo," Tony slowly made his way over like he was approaching an injured animal, crouching down in front of his kid. "I just worry, okay? You shouldn't have to relive it."
Peter slowly brought his knees up to his chest, allowing his face to fall into his knees.
He held back the sobs that were threatening to break through any second.
Slowly, Peter lifted his head, careful not to meet Tony's eye, looking right past him. He was afraid if he made eye contact he would shatter.
"I- he- I don't know…"
"Shh, it's okay. Would it be easier if I asked you questions and you answered?"
Peter nodded slowly, feeling his consciousness begin to try and swim out and away from him. Without thinking his hand shot out to grab Tony's forearm like he was his anchor. Tony was surprised but didn't mention it, only placing a comforting hand on top of his.
"Did something happen"
Duh, Peter thought, but he nodded anyway, assuming Tony was starting with the easy questions.
"Alright. Was it that one agent?"
Tony feared that answer. Unfortunately his suspicions were proved correct when he nodded again.
"Did he- beat you up?"
Peter's brows furrowed like he was deep in thought. He made a face as if to say "sorta" with a bit of a shrug.
Tony saw how every muscle in his body tensed up, pain shot up his own arm when he realized Peter's hand that was gripping his arm had tightened. He ignored it, searching the boy's pale and tired face for his answer.
It was what was next that he didn't want to ask.
"Peter…"
This time Peter nearly snapped Tony's arm when he tensed, casting him to jolt a bit at the sudden pain. Peter released his hand but didn't seem to be registering Tony in front of him.
He was looking at- no- through Tony like he was glass. Like he wasn't there.
His chest was heaving, his hands shaking at his side.
"Hey, hey, it's okay," Tony reached out, placing his hands on Peter's face.
Peter shielded himself from Tony, turning his face away from him.
Tony quickly pulled his hands away, raising them to show Peter that he wasn't a threat.
"It's okay, it's just me. It's Tony. We are at your room in the compound. Nobody is getting to you here."
Peter dropped his shoulder slightly, relaxing a small bit.
"Im sorry,"
"Dont be sorry, bambino,"
Peter let himself fall into Tony's chest, his rapid breathing turning into soft sobs.
Cautiously, Tony wrapped his arms around him, his hand going to the back of his head, running his fingers through his curls.
"It's okay, kiddo," Tony shushed, rocking them back and forth in his lap.
"Tony…" Peter's voice was gentle and weak, making Tony's heart break at the sound.
Just a kid.
This was all his fault.
"Tony, he- " Peter muttered the last two words remained unsaid, but Tony knew.
Tony knew.
He figured.
He heard the conversation exchanged right before the man had died. He had seen the look on Pierce's face.
His blood still turned to ice upon hearing it from the boy, holding him tighter against his chest.
"I've got you, bambino,"
The boy's sobs grew louder, echoing in his room. Peter was letting out the pain he had held in bravely for the past week, every part of him feeling like it was breaking in Tony's arms on his bedroom floor.
Tony was sure Bucky and Steve had been woken up considering they were just a few doors down and he was half expecting Bucky to run in, guns blazing at the sound of the youngest avenger crying.
He didn't blame him.
If that son of a bitch wasn't already dead, he would have killed him himself.
Hes sure half of the team wouldn't hesitate.
Tony held back his own tears at the sight of the boy, waterworks running down his face, hiccuping through the cries. All Tony could do was hold him, and reassure him.
"Is everything alright?"
Tony looked up to see just who he was expecting.
Steve and Bucky were both in pajamas. Steve in a comically small shirt that looked to be thrown on haphazardly like he put it on as he walked out of his room.
Bucky was in large sweatpants and a tank top, his hair pulled into a low messy bun. He looked exhausted, but his eyes were alert.
Nobody really knew what happened back at the base. Tony didn't know the full story. He wasn't sure if Peter did either.
It had only been a week, he figured it would come in due time.
The entire team had been slightly on edge since everything happened. Tony was unfortunate enough to be the one that had to deal with most of the repercussions, like SHIELD doing drastic safety checks, long winded interviews, and telling them everything he knew about what had happened.
The whole thing was still a mystery to them at this point. Pierce was gone, and nobody knew what he took with him.
Honestly, Tony couldn't find it in himself to care.
He just wanted to move on from the whole situation.
Peter carefully lifted his head up to look at the two men, face flushing and ears heating up. He quickly wiped his face with the palm of his hand.
"Yeah just uh- a nightmare," Peter hiccuped, trying to mask the tone in his voice.
Not entirely a lie.
Bucky and Steve exchanged looks, the latter shrugging softly.
Tony knew that look Steve had.
They had heard their conversation.
He knew both of them had super hearing just like Peter, and he knew that Peter knew that.
Steve slowly stepped forward, crouching down so he was at Peter's eye-level.
"Do you need anything, son?" Steve asked, his voice gentle as ever. Peter didn't get a chance to respond before Bucky was speaking for him.
"I think you need to watch one of your nerd space movies, yeah?" Bucky forced a smile," Steve and I couldn't sleep anyway, how about we go start one?"
Peter leaned back, nodding his head in silent agreement.
Tony took that as his cue to slide out from under Peter and get onto his own feet.
"You alright?" Tony asked, looking down at the teen," Can you stand?"
Peter mumbled a yeah, using the wall as a crutch to help him to his feet, Steve and Bucky using that moment to take their leave towards the living room.
Peter swayed on his feet, his vision blacking out as he nearly toppled back over.
Luckily, Tony had suspected this would happen, and was able to catch him under the arms.
"Yeah, no, you aren't walking," Tony bent down, scooping Peter's legs up so he was in a bridal style carry," Nice try tho."
Peter rested his head into Tony's shoulder, a small smile gracing his lips.
That was maybe the best thing Tony had seen in the past month.
Tony put Peter down on the couch, heading into the kitchen to pull out some coffee, when just the person he needed showed up.
"Pep? What are you doing up?"
She was also in pj's, which was an odd sight in of itself, a sad look on her face.
"Hey, honey," She yawned," I think the whole tower might be up now. Maybe we should invest in some sound-proof walls."
Right.
Peter had woken Tony up too with his screaming, he shouldn't be too surprised that Pepper was up as well.
Pepper grabbed the coffee ground from Tony, giving him an annoyed look then exchanged that for some tea. Tony rolled his eyes but took the packet anyway.
"How is he doing?" Pepper asked, grabbing a mug and heating up the water.
Tony glanced over at Peter who was just staring into the abyss. He caught him doing that a lot recently. He didn't blame him. Bruce said it was a trauma response, and after what he went through he should expect some rough nights.
"Uh-" Tony rubbed a hand down his face with a sigh. "Not good Pep."
Pepper, leaned against the fridge, her eyebrows raised. "What's going on? Bruce mentioned a few things, but he said none of it was too serious."
Tony's frown deepened. Maybe he should speak to Bruce about everything. After what Peter told him he was due for another check-up unfortunately.
"It's not my information to share..." Tony trailed off. "But- it's not good."
Pepper studied his face for a moment, reading him like an open book. Her expression dropped.
"Oh, Tony..."
Tony took a deep exaggerated breath then sighed again. "Honey, I am so far out of my depth here. I don't know how to fix this."
"I don't think you can fix it."
The kettle hissed in the background alerting the woman that her water was done boiling. She sat up, pouring the water into three mugs, plopping a tea packet into each.
"What do I do?" He whispered, his voice cracking.
She walked over, placing a hand on his shoulder comfortingly.
"Tony, I know you're going to hate hearing this but I think you need to hear it. You can't fix it. You can support but you can't fix this problem like one of your math equations. He's a person not a suit."
Tony wanted to scoff, because he knew that. He just didn't know what to do with said person in a situation like this.
"You care about him right?" She waited for Tony to meet her eyes, his expression answering the question. "Then start there."
Tony rested his face in his hands, trying to decipher exactly what that meant. Pepper only gave him a kiss on the head, grabbing her mug and Peter's to bring over to the couch.
Tony took a moment to collect himself, then joined them.
Pepper was already sitting down next to the kid with her tea, Peter doing the same. He wasn't drinking it, mostly just staring at it like it was the most interesting thing in the world.
Tony plopped down next to him, giving him a bit of distance, shooting a reassuring smile once he looked up.
"Hey, Kiddo."
"Hey, Mr. Stark."
"I thought we were done with that whole Mr. Stark thing." Tony teased, earning a smug look from Peter.
"The more you mention it the more I'm gonna keep doing it."
"You're such a little shit."
Steve and Bucky joined the group after, sitting next to each other on the couch. Both looked slightly uncomfortable, sending several looks in Tony's direction as if to silently ask the same question everyone has been asking.
Is he okay?
Tony avoided eyecontact, trying to focus on Star Wars which was turning out to be incredibly difficult after his and Peter's conversation.
Somehow though, he fell asleep, as did Peter because when he opened his eyes everyone had returned to their rooms and the sky was a few shades brighter.
Tony looked down at his watch (which was now shattered thanks to his last predicament.) the time on it read 5:52 AM.
The credits of the movie were now rolling, and Tony couldn't deny how exhausted he was.
Deciding to favor his back, he stood up stretching, shaking Peter's shoulder softly.
The teens eyes fluttered open, he rubbed at them and sat up slowly.
"How long was I asleep for?" He said around a yawn.
"Not more than an hour. What do you say we head back to your room?"
Peter nodded in confirmation, standing up carefully.
Tony walked with him back to his room, let him get in bed then sat on the other side of it directly next to his head.
"Want me to stay?"
Peter stared at him, biting his lip, then averting his eyes.
"Yeah."
"I'll stay as long as you need me to, kiddo." Tony pushed his bangs out of his face, content when he leaned into his touch.
Tony kicked his feet up, sitting on the bed next to him, scrolling through his phone. Peter was faced the other direction, pretending to be asleep.
They sat like that for a while, until the noises of the tower waking up around them were heard.
Seven AM.
Tony found himself accidentally closing his eyes, then forcing them back open just as quickly. He would stay awake for a little longer, just incase.
It was then Peter decided to turn over his shoulder and look up at him.
"Tony?"
"Hmm?"
Peter sat up further on his elbows so he was fully facing him.
"I'm sorry."
"You are really breaking a record with those I'm sorrys today. 'Sides there's nothing to be sorry for, okay?"
Peter furrowed his eyebrows, sitting up so his legs were crossed now.
"You don't hate me?"
"Hate you?"
Peter managed a small glance at him, his eyes filled with unshed tears.
"I went against what you told me to do- then I killed that guy and- don't you think I'm terrible? Everything that happened I could have-"
"Don't finish that sentence." Tony grabbed his shoulders pulling him back so he could look him in the face. His shoulders were slumped and his face was still streaming with tears, his eyes focused on his hands in his lap. "Kid, can you look at me?" Peter hesitantly raised his eyes, his chin still bowed. Tony took his finger under his chin so that the kid was forced to make eye contact with him.
"There is absolutely nothing you could do to make me hate you, alright?"
Peter's eyes were wide, shining with unshed tears. "You could murder a whole room of cute baby seals and I still wouldn't hate you. I would be slightly mortified, yes, but never hate you." Peter smiled softly at that wiping the palm of his hand roughly over his eyes
"I think that warrants hate."
"Maybe." Tony shrugs," The point is, it's unconditional, kid. You aren't getting rid of me because you saved our skin. It was him or you. I hate you were put in that situation to begin with, but I want you to know I'm proud, okay?"
For whatever reason, Tony and Peter had found each other. Fate. Destiny. Whatever you want to call it. Life set up a perfect line of dominos, every circumstance leading them to each other. God knows Tony isn't going to let anything take that away. There aren't many times when life hands you a second chance. Tony himself has had numerous second chances- probably more than he can count- Afghanistan, Pepper, The Avengers, and Peter Parker…and that's just off the top of his head.
"And don't even get me started on the whole blaming yourself game. Trust me I've been there, and you're only going to run yourself in circles. I can tell you with full confidence right now, that absolutely nothing that happened was your fault. I don't care if you are Spider-Man. I don't care if you could have broken free. You were put in an unfair position."
Peter wiped at his eyes, fresh tears falling right after. He had a wstery smile on, but he didn’t look like he was really listening to what Tony was saying.
"Thanks, Peter crashed into his mentor's arms for the millionth time since he stepped foot in the room, holding onto the man like a lifeline.
Tony squeezed him back, one hand holding the back of his head. "I would tear apart the universe- hell, the Multiverse if it meant saving you. Break every single one of the laws of physics to keep you here, break the fabric of reality-I could never hate you. It's not possible. Not in my DNA."
And I'd do anything to prove it. Tony says in his head, deciding to keep that bit of information to himself.
Peter didn't believe him yet. He wanted to, desperately. He wanted the words to ring true, but he couldn't find it in himself to believe someone like him would deserve mercy and love like that from someone like Tony Stark. Instead, he whispered an Okay, and let himself fall asleep in Tony's comforting arms.