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Peter didn’t have a lot of memories of his dad. Even less so of his mom.
But he knew that he loved them. Especially his dad. Even though he couldn’t picture the man’s face without looking at a photograph, there was still this warmth every time he thought of him. A dull ache that must have been searing back before he could remember. Back when that plane went down, and they never came home.
So, what little memories he had of his dad, he tried to latch on. He really did. His father’s laugh, loud and boisterous and silly. His father’s fingers, tickling him until he couldn’t breathe. His father’s apologies, every time he left on trips far away.
Weirdly enough, Mr. Stark has always reminded him of his dad.
Even though the two look nothing alike, from the first moment Peter saw him on tv when he was six years old, his first thought was there’s daddy. He doesn’t exactly remember the rest, but Aunt May loves joking about how he threw a fit when Ben insisted that the man on tv wasn’t Daddy and that they couldn’t call him, although it had apparently been a lot less funny at the time, the real Parker’s loss still fresh and bleeding.
Peter could never truly explain it, but Tony Stark had just always felt so familiar. Before meeting him, he always tried to chalk it up to childhood trauma and severe hero-worship.
The familiarity got stronger after meeting him. After being mentored by him, after spending endless hours in that lab… after being wrenched back into existence having lost five years, and suddenly being sucker punched with Tony’s fatherhood.
Morgan Stark brought out a new side in Tony, and watching from the sidelines made Peter feel… weird.
Tony was softer now. Lighter. Happier. Familiar.
Peter hated it. And loved it. And missed it, and didn’t know why.
Peter loved Morgan, don’t get him wrong (who didn’t love Morgan? She was nothing but sunshine and blackmail attempts), but there was this… prickling jealousy that he couldn’t quite explain.
So, he just decided not to.
But when he found a disturbingly familiar teddy bear in Tony’s lab, something inside of him itched.
Peter and Tony were working on a new StarkPad (at least, they were supposed to be, but got sidetracked with another project… or five) together, and the inventor had sent him to grab a couple coffees from the machine. But while waiting for it to brew, he’d just… seen it, sitting there. Leaning against a cabinet.
It was a pretty worn looking Teddy bear, obviously played with, and obviously Morgan’s, because who’s else could it. It was brown, with one blue glass eye, and one red button where the other should be. It had a weathered ribbon bow around its neck, and a shield reminiscent of Cap’s sewed to its arm.
Which was… weird, since Tony didn’t typically buy Captain America merch for Morgan (besides that knockoff action figure that looked more like a half melted monstrosity that Steve continuously rolled his eyes at).
Peter picked up the toy, and he knew that he had had one just like it. Even the freaking button was familiar.
“Yo, Underoos!”
Peter jumped, turning around to see Tony still with feet up on his desk across the room, typing away on the laptop on his lap.
Tony didn’t bother to look up, still typing code after code, reading glasses threatening to fall from their perch on his nose. One hand was typing at rapid fire pace, while the other- the metal prosthetic that looked like it was taken straight from one of his suits- typed at a more careful pace, having gone through too many laptops already back when he was getting used to the thing.
The lack of a second arm and permanent scars along his neck and lower half of his face didn’t make Peter do double takes as often as they used to months ago, but a sliver of guilt still coiled around him when he saw it. Guilt that he hadn’t somehow done more during their first round against Thanos, but he usually tries to stifle that with relief that Tony was still alive. Still here, even if not in one piece.
Tony didn’t bother to look up as he spoke. “You gonna bring my Java or what? It’s probably a good thing you went down the vigilante route rather than a barista career. Unless you’ve got some hidden latte art talents, you’re not gonna like my yelp review.”
“You’ll get your boiled bean juice when you get it.” Peter rolled his eyes, grabbing two clean mugs from the cabinet (an Iron Man one for himself, and a personalized Spider-Man one for Tony). He poured a good heaping of sugar in his own, and a couple splashes of chocolate syrup. He left Tony’s drink as black as the dead of night, just how he likes it (besides when Pepper whipped up the occasional cappuccino, and he was partial to hazelnut lattes, but they didn’t have the ingredients for that).
“So snarky.” Tony mocked a gasp. “What would Aunt May say?”
“‘Keep it up, Peter. This is exactly how I raised you.’”
“So she’s a degenerate too, then?”
“It’s a family trait.” Peter carried the bear under his arm, taking it with him as he brought the coffees over, plopping the Spider-Mug down by his mentor’s feet. He took a sip from his own before setting it down, leaning against the desk. “Hey, wanna know something weird?”
“Always.” He replied, glasses sliding dangerously low, the codes on the screen reflected in them.
“I used to have a bear exactly like this.” Peter held up the teddy bear, waving it around a bit.
Tony suddenly stiffened and the typing faltered, his eyes the only part of his body moving as they shot up at the toy. He froze for a solid ten seconds before looking back down to the laptop on, resuming his typing. He still seemed mostly normal, but there was a tenseness underlining his words. “Hard to believe, that bad boy’s one of a kind. Be careful with it, by the way. I can’t replace it.”
“That’s what I used to think before I lost mine. But seriously, it’s, like, exactly like the one I used to have. It even has the same button mine did.” Peter poked at the red button, chuckling. “I still remember how mine lost his. I was playing around with my dad’s tools, pretending that he was a robot and that I was fixing him.”
Peter barely noticed how the typing stopped entirely, along with his mentor’s heartbeat for a solid three seconds. “I can’t remember exactly what tool I used or how it happened, but his eye popped out and got lost, and I was crying nonstop. My dad tried to find it, but couldn’t, so he found a button… I think it was from his shirt or something, not sure. But anyway, he sewed it on, and Buddy was fixed. Oh, yeah! His name was Buddy! Like the Elf from Elf. But anyway, I think we found the eye, but I liked the button better anyway so…”
That’s when Peter noticed his mentor staring at him as if he’d sprouted three heads and insulted his mother with all four of them.
He’s pretty sure Tony wasn’t even breathing, just staring at him with an expression he couldn’t possibly hope to read, something dark and aching in his eyes.
“Uh,” Peter shifted, moving the bear from one hand to the other. “Mr. Stark?”
“How did you know that story?” Tony’s voice was deathly and downright menacing, a voice that’s never been directed at him before.
“What?” Peter straightened, brows furrowed. “What are you talking about, that’s my story.”
“No, it’s not. It’s not.” Tony removed his legs from the desk, practically tossing aside the laptop and his glasses. “Who told you that story, Peter? Was it Rhodey? He’s the only person who knew. I can’t—“ he shook his head, voice catching as it thickened. “I don’t know why the hell you would think this is-is what, funny? What the hell, Pete?”
“What are you talking about?” Peter snapped, growing agitated, taking a step back. “I don’t know what you’re so upset about!”
“I think you should go.” Tony got up and snatched the toy from his hands, walking off to the other side of the lab, apparently ready to leave it at that. “FRI, have Happy pull the car around and get the kid back home.”
Peter blinked as his mentor slammed the door behind him, the loud click of a lock close behind. “… what the fuck?”
••••••••••••••••
Tony was livid.
The kid was usually sweet as pie and had a pretty good sense of humor that toes the edge of insulting (usually), but this was just… cruel.
Which is why he simply couldn’t understand it.
And another thing he couldn’t understand, was why his best friend and his protege were chitchatting about stories regarding his dead son.
Missing. Missing son.
A little voice whispered in his ear, cruel and unrealistic as ever. Just because they never found a body didn’t mean there wasn’t one.
Tony shouldn’t have left that toy out. He’d had a rough night, one filled with nightmares and guilt and memory. He’d stood outside of Peter’s room in the Tower for about ten minutes, just to make sure he was still breathing. That he was still there. And not just a pile of ash. He was just glad the kid had been staying the night (he would like to have him every night, but he couldn’t do that to May, or Peter).
He then did the same thing outside of Morgan’s door, then hid in his lab. And because he was a self-torturing sadist, he took out Buddy Bear. It had been one of the few things of Lukas’ to survive the destruction of the Malibu house (he didn’t usually cry over objects, but he cried over that house and his son’s lost things).
He now kept what did survive in a metal box that could probably survive a nuclear war.
He should’ve put the toy back, but after his little episode, he’d just… forgotten. And then Peter came in, and pulled that stunt.
A stunt he was about to have a long ass talk to Rhodey about.
Speak of the devil, the lab doors whooshed open without having to be told, and the familiar sound of the colonel’s leg braces filled the room. “Hey, Tones. How’s it going?”
“Not too good, honey bear.” Tony rolled around in his chair, holding up the toy. “Care to explain why you told Spidey about this?”
Rhodey blinked, shaking his head once. “What are you talking about?”
“Oh come on, the jig is up. I’m not mad, I’m just disappointed.” Tony paused. “Well, actually, I am mad. But I just thought that phrase sounded appropriately parental. I shoulda used it on the kid earlier.”
“And why the hell would you be mad?”
“Because the kid thought it would be funny to take that story you told him—“
“Didn’t tell him.”
“- and pretend like it was his. He- you should’ve heard him, Rhodes. I know he can be a little shit, especially when he’s wearing red and blue, but this… I never would’ve thought he’d even think to pull something like that. So for now on I’d appreciate a little heads up on stories you tell him.”
“Tony, you’re not listening!” Rhodey shook his head, arms crossing. “I didn’t tell him anything, dammit!”
“Then who did you tell?”
“No one.”
“Well you had to have told someone, because how else would he know?!” Tony snapped, agitation running through him. “He knew details, Rhodey. Weirdly specific details that no one ought to know, Hell I’m not even sure I remember telling you some of them, but your the only person I told, so I can’t…”
“What do you mean details? What exactly happened?” Rhodey stepped forward, suddenly very focused on what he had to say.
Tony shrugged, fingering the bear’s shield. “Details, about…” he held up the bear. “About how Captain Furball lost his eye and gained a new one. He… knew how Lukas liked to play mechanic and… and how his-his dad sewed the eye back on even though I clearly remember doing that. He even knew the damn thing’s name, Rhodey. And he was talking about it as if that was his toy and his memories when…”
Tony swallowed, a traitorous lump trying to form in his throat. “He said that he used to have a toy just like this one, with the same eye and everything, and then laid that story on me. And I know that coincidences happen, but not that many. So what else could it be?”
Rhodes was dead silent for a good long minute, looking like he’d seen a ghost while running something through his head. “You… never told him any of this yourself? You sure?”
“More sure than I am of anything.”
“Have you ever…” Rhodey grabbed a chair (Peter’s chair) and wheeled it over in front of him, plopping down in it. “Look, I know I’m usually the voice of reason between the two of us, but I’m about to suggest something so out there it may as well be in orbit… have you ever tested Peter’s blood?”
“Like… for the spider bite? Yeah, a couple times, it’s pretty fascinating actually—“
“A paternity test, Tony.” Rhodey swallowed, voice careful even as it began to strain. “Have you ever done anything like that with him?”
Tony blinked. Then blinked again. “What the hell are you saying, James?”
Rhodey sucked in a breath, intertwining his fingers together. His voice was quiet, and dangerously hopeful. “… he’s about the same age Luke would be, with the blip.”
“No,” The words were out before he’d even thought them. “No fucking way.”
“He remembers things that no one else besides you and me should know.” Rhodey seemed to think aloud, not quite looking at him anymore. “He… he kinda looks the way I always imagined he would, a lot like you did at MIT, but with some of his mom mixed in. That was my first thought when I met him without the mask, it almost gave me whiplash.”
“Your first thought?”
“My first thought.”
Tony was already shaking his head. “No, there’s no way, I’ve- I’ve been looking, Rhodey. Even when I stopped thinking that I’ll ever… I still looked. But I found this kid through freaking YouTube! Not the police, not the AIs, and- and I knew him for years, and I lost him and he died and—“
“You got him back.” Rhodey grabbed him by the arm, the metal one. A cost small in comparison to what he got in return. “You got him back, and he’s here, and he’s fine, and… what if he’s…”
Tony couldn’t help but laugh, choked as it was, yanking his arm away. “Fine, you want me to prove it? Let’s just bang this out. Hey, Baby Girl?”
“Yes, Boss?” FRIDAY’s voice rang out throughout the lab.
“Run Peter’s blood that’s on file against mine, see if we’re related in any way.”
“Already done, Boss.”
Tony’s throat nearly closed up, to the point that he had to clear it to force any words out. “And?”
“They are a match, you are biologically Peter Parker’s father. Congratulations.”
It’s like the room stood still and started spinning all at once, his entire world tilting to the side. “What?”
“Run it against Luke’s blood.” Rhodey said with more hope than he’s had in over a decade.
“Boss, do I-“
“Uh-huh.” Tony replied absentmindedly, more focused on the blood rushing to his ears and how all the oxygen seemed to be zapping out of the room.
FRIDAY was quiet for a moment, only a moment, until she blew his world apart. “Discounting the synthetic changes to his DNA, it’s a match.”
That’s about when everything went black.
••••••••••••••••••
One panic attack and three more runs through the DNA tests later, the men are both sitting on the floor, leaning against a wall and staring into nothing.
Tony couldn’t stop thinking about everything. Every memory, every moment, from the first video of Spider-Man to the day he turned to ash in his arms.
Does Peter know? He can’t know. He can’t know. Does May know? May, who got to raise his son. May, who shares a bottle of wine and endless stories with Tony on Sundays? She might know. She might know. And that’ll be a betrayal far worse than Obie’s or Rogers’.
I watched my baby die.
Those five words kept running through his head over and over and over, along with the memory of it happening. Over and over and fucking over. And he thought it haunted him before.
“All this time, he was right there.” Rhodey breathed, voice haunted. “He was right there, Tony. I thought… I thought he was…”
“We all did.” Tony said, the first thing to come out of his mouth since the whole reveal. “I did.”
“I’m still confused as all hell about this and have probably a billion questions on the modest side, but…” Rhodey laughed, eyes glistening as he smiled. “He’s alive, Tones. He’s alive. He’s alive and he’s okay and he’s… fuck, he’s…”
“Perfect.” Tony’s teeth chattered, and he had to stop himself from squeezing his flesh arm with his metal one, an old habit that tended to bruise nowadays. “He’s so fucking perfect, Rhodey.”
“I was gonna say he’s just like you, but, yeah.” Rhodey nudged his shoulder with his own. “He’s fucking perfect.”
“Just like me?”
“Two snarky, self-sacrificing dumbass geniuses.”
“Haha. Hilarious.” Tony rolled his eyes, then stiffened when the words settled. “Oh god. Oh fuck oh god oh fuck.”
“What?”
“He’s Spider-Man. My baby is Spider-Man, and he’s a sweet, self-sacrificing idiot who can get himself killed!”
“Now you know how we feel. Except for the sweet part.”
“I’ve known since I met the kid, but now it’s… fuck, it’s worse. Because… because I lost him, and… I took him to Germany, I took my son to Germany and almost got him killed—“
“You didn’t think the fight would get that bad.”
“— took away his suit and he almost got killed, and then I took him to fucking space and then he—“
“Stop it, Tony.” Rhodey grabbed what was left of his mangled shoulder and shook it, getting his attention. “He’s fine, Tones. Peter… Lukas is fine.”
“Lukas is fine.” Tony breathed, words he never thought he’d ever get to say again. “Lukas… Lukas. Lukas.”
His baby boy is alive. His baby boy is alive.
His baby, who used to steal from his toolbox in order to play mechanic. His baby, who used to sing-along to AC/DC songs to the best of his ability. His baby, who used to kick up a fuss every time he had to leave on business trips in ways that downright tore at his heart.
His baby, who went missing two days shy of his fifth birthday when he was on another goddamn business trip, breaking his heart to pieces.
His baby, who he refused to bury an empty casket for, even at Obadiah’s insistence and his own loss of hope.
His baby, who’s been stealing the broken pieces of his heart bit by bit under a different name, almost drowning his father in guilt for letting it happen.
His baby, who was currently in Queens with a woman who may-or-may-not have known all this time.
“I need to see him.” Tony was already calling for the suit before he’d even stood up, the nanotech forming around him from his prosthetic. “Now.”
“Tony, wait—“
But he was already gone, flying through a window that FRIDAY had barely had time to open.
•••••••••••••••••
Soon enough, Tony found himself standing in front of the apartment door, suit hidden away save for the arm.
Again, he couldn’t breathe.
Lukas was in there. Lukas was in there.
Except… he wasn’t really Luke anymore, now was he?
He was Peter, who liked thrifting old parts and Star Wars and helping people.
He’s a sixteen-year-old teenager who’s known grief and fear and responsibility. Whose world is more than just Tony and his little inner circle (oh god, he needs to tell Pepper and Happy, every person who’s grieved with him. And Morgan, he has to tell Morgan that she’s got a big brother… not that she didn’t already see Peter as such, and that thought sent a jolt of happiness through him).
How does Tony Stark fit in that world now?
Before he could even think to go down that dark rabbit hole, the door swung open, and there he was.
He’s so beautiful.
He saw Luke so clearly, now that he was looking for it. He saw his eyes and his nose and the waves in his hair, it was Lukas and it was Peter and fuck, it hurt and he loved him and it hurt.
“Oh,” Peter’s brows raised in surprise, a twenty dollar bill in his hand. “You’re not the pizza guy.”
“Not unless the stocks go down at Stark Industries.” Tony replied, mouth dry and voice raspy. “Can I come in?”
“Why? To gaslight me some more?” Peter snarked, even as he stepped aside, allowing him in. “I know what I remember.”
“I know you do.” Tony stepped through, turning around in the entryway as the kid closed the door. “I’m sorry, kid. I was wrong, you… god, Pete.”
He couldn’t stop staring. Looking at him now, it was so obvious. He should’ve known. He should’ve known the second he laid eyes on him, the second that kid opened his mouth, he should have known.
He should have known that all these years, his son was only a borough away. Right here in this apartment.
He felt like he was about to drown under all that pointlessly lost time.
“Mr. Stark?” Peter- Luke- Peter frowned, scratching the back of his neck. “You okay? You kinda spaced out for a minute.”
There was something very, very wrong with his baby calling him anything that started with Mr, but that was the least of his worries.
“Tell me about your dad.”
“What?” Peter shifted uncomfortably, frowning. “You didn’t seem to like it very much when I did that earlier. This isn’t some kinda masochist thing, is it? I already know about the adrenaline junkie thing—“
“Just humor me, please.”
“Uh, sure, fine, whatever.” Peter shrugged, swinging one leg to and fro. “I don’t really remember him much, can’t even picture his face unless I look at photos and stuff. But he was a scientist, and he loved making things. And he used to work a lot, but he would read me a lot of bedtime stories.”
“He used to read them to you in Italian.” Tony drew a shaky breath, eyes glistening as a smile trembled on his lips. “He wanted you to learn it as your second language, so he’d always read them to you like that. Because that’s what his mom did with him.”
Peter’s jaw dropped, eyes widening. “How… I imagined that part, that’s what Ben said. My dad didn’t speak Italian so he couldn’t… how did you know that?”
“He did, Peter.” Tony’s flesh hand trembled as he stepped forward, and trembled still as he placed it on his son’s cheek. “He spoke Italian, and he called you Bambino. And he was a terrible cook, and he’d apologize every time he had to leave you behind on a trip.” He nearly choked at that one. “And he took buttons from his shirts to sew into your toys, and he loves you so, so much. He loves you, Peter.”
Peter was starting to tremble, so confused that it made him ache. “What are you talking about?”
“Have you ever heard of Lukas Stark?”
Peter blinked, all the more confused. “What Iron Man fanboy worth his salt hasn’t?”
Tony couldn’t help but snort, even as his world was ripping apart and stitching back together all at once. “Do you know how old he would be?”
“Uh, around, like, twenty-something?”
“Sixteen years, eight months, and five weeks if he was snapped.” And here it was, going straight for the jugular. “He went missing when he was almost five years old, without a trace. He had brown eyes and hair, loved space and had… had a Captain American teddy bear with one red button eye.”
Peter’s eyes widened even more as he took a step back, waving his hands in front of himself. “You think- oh god, Tony, there’s no way that I’m- I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything about the bear, but it’s just a crazy coincidence! I had parents! And they were my parents and—“
“Did you ever do a DNA test? 23-and-me, ancestry.com, any of those?”
“I didn’t think I needed to, which I don’t!” Peter shook his head in denial, eyes wide and erratic.
“Well, I did. Four times.” There was no going back from this, and he didn’t want to. “Each one came back positive. You’re my son, Peter. You’re him. Lukas Stark. I don’t know how or why you ended up here or with the Parkers. But… you’re him.”
Peter went dead silent, as if the breath had been knocked out of him. It was impossible to read anything off his face besides the sheer shock, and fear started to trickle down through Tony.
“I, uh, would’ve made a ‘Luke, I am your father’ joke, but I felt like that would be crass.” Tony winced. “Unless, would a little humor have made it more digestible?”
Peter just continued to stare at him, until he looked away. And stomped straight to his room.
“Kid?” Tony called as he walked past, and saw the door slam behind his son. “Underoos, come back, please, I’m—“
Tony wasn’t exactly sorry, he’s not sure he’d even have the room for another emotion. He was furious, and petrified, and deliriously happy and- he can’t hope to make sense of it all. Only thing that was certain, is that he wanted his baby close. And he wasn’t going anywhere, not now, probably not ever. Not without Luke.
Tony was about to barge in when the kid yelled back, “GO AWAY!” sounding close to tears.
Tony’s not sure how much more his tattered heart could take, he’ll be surprised if he doesn’t need another arc reactor by the end of the day.
He didn’t barge into the room, but he didn’t leave, either.
Eventually the pizza man came, doing quite the double take when Iron Man answered the door and shoved a couple hundreds into his hand while asking they keep this between them before closing the door in his face.
Tony set the pizzas (three pineapple and pepperoni atrocities) on the kitchen table, and sat down by them.
Tony had just slowly finished his way through one slice when the kid’s door opened, the poor boy looking absolutely wrecked, as if a demented supervillain just murdered his puppy or something.
Tony scrambled off the chair, wiping his hands on a used napkin, not really caring where it had previously been. “Hey, spiderling.”
“Hey,” Peter replied, no combating nickname. He stood there for a good minute, just staring at him. And Tony let him, since he was doing the exact same thing right back.
Peter, apparently having made up his mind, slowly made his way towards him. His father stood still, as if he’d run like a deer in the brush with one wrong move.
Peter stood right in front of him for a few agonizingly long seconds before throwing his arms around him, burying his face in his neck and fuck. It reminded him of their last hug before his trip, and their first hug after the blip.
Tony hesitated only a second before hugging him back, one arm around his shoulders and the other, the metal one and the one that he sacrificed for him and half the world cupping the back of his head. Just like he used to.
Peter was crying, body shaking and tears wetting his father’s shirt.
“I’m here, Bambino.” Tony started to rub soothing circles along his back. “I’m right here.”
That only seemed to make him cry harder, fingers digging into his back before gripping his shirt, as if afraid to let go. “I- I always fel-felt like I knew you.”
Tony’s heart stuttered at that, his chest caving in with each word. “You did?”
“Even before we met, I…” Peter drew a shaky breath, trying to control himself. “You always felt so familiar, Tony. Just looking at you was like… I never felt that with Richard or Mary. I thought there was something wrong- wrong with me, that I didn’t— that I felt closer to a stranger than them but… is this why?”
“Yeah,” Tony lightly nodded, tears finally escaping his own eyes, already knowing that he’ll be a sobbing mess once this whole thing actually fully settles in his head. “Yeah, kiddo, I think so.”
“I’m… I’m not Lukas. At least, not completely, anymore.”
It was like a knife cut through him, but Tony didn’t say a word of it. “I know.”
“I wanna still be Peter. Is… is that okay?”
“Kid,” Tony gently pulled away from the hug in order to look him in the eye, gently wiping the tears from his face with his flesh hand. “I loved you when you were Lukas, I loved you when you were Peter, and I love you now. Always. No matter what your name is.”
Tony gave a watery laugh. “You gotta understand… I lost you. And I didn’t know where you were, and I had all these awful things in my head… so to find out that not only are you alive, but you’re happy, and so damn perfect… that’s all that matters.”
“Is everything going to change?”
“Some things will.” Tony confirmed. “But it’ll be okay, Pete. I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere, ever again. Some things will change, and it’ll be weird, but it’ll be okay.”
“Weird… that’s one word for it.” Peter huffed. “I’m still really confused and none of this makes any sense.”
“That makes two us.” Tony smiled. “But it’s gonna be okay.”
Because his baby’s alive, and here, and his family was finally complete again.