Chapter 4

Peter's eyes flickered back to the clock hanging above Ms. Tidwell's head for the seventh time since class began. The pent up energy coursing within his body escaped through a series of obnoxious foot tapping and drumming fingers. He bit his bottom lip to try and calm himself down when Ms. Tidwell raised an annoyed eyebrow at him.

Ned leaned over from Peter's left, "Dude, why are you so twitchy?"

Peter held his hands together to keep them from shaking with excitement and whispered back, "This is my first weekend staying at the compound with Mr. Stark. Happy is picking me up from school today."

He heard Ned's breath hitch as he sucked in too much air, and a giggle escaped Peter's lips when he saw the saucers Ned's eyes resembled. "Dude, are you freaking serious? That's the coolest thing I've ever heard! I can't believe my best friend is an Avenger!"

Peter shushed the boy quickly, "Go ahead and announce it to the whole class why don't you?" Ned gave him an apologetic smile, "And I'm not an Avenger. Mr. Stark wants to train with me for a while."

"That's so, so cool! The Tony Stark wants to spend the weekend with you!" His best friend finished the sentence a little too loud, earning each of them a reprimand from their teacher.

"Sorry Ms. Tidwell, it won't happen again Ms. Tidwell." Both boys recited immediately.

Peter sneaked a peak at Ned, whose face was still lit up, and found his own excitement growing. He had barely been able to hold it together this week, and now that his last class was five minutes from letting out, Peter couldn't contain himself. May had helped him pack his bag for the entire weekend, as Mr. Stark assured her that Peter would have his own room to stay in, which was currently holed up in his locker. He tried calculating exactly how long it would take him to sprint out of class, grab his duffel bag and meet Happy outside, but someone interrupted his thoughts.

"Have somewhere to be, Penis Parker?" Flash quipped from two seats up. "I hope you're not still on about that whole Stark internship." He laughed cruelly, causing a few of their surrounding classmates to follow suit, "As if!"

Ned glanced nervously at Peter, who was silently trying to communicate to his best friend that he needed to keep his mouth shut about this. Flash was just a bully, there was no reason to flaunt the fact that he not only knew Tony Stark, but was going to be staying with him on the weekends. Thankfully, neither of them needed to come up with an excuse.

"Flash," Michelle interjected, sounding utterly bored with the whole situation, "Somewhere out there, a tree is working very hard to replace the oxygen you consume. Now go apologize to it."

The three boys blinked at her, before a shade of pink stretched across Flash's ears. "S-shut up Michelle! You're such a freak!"

She closed her book and turned slowly in her chair to face him. When Michelle had full view of Flash, she popped a brow; "I've been called worse things by better people." She stood up, causing Flash to flinch, the moment before the bell rang. Michelle's eyes flickered to Peter, and he tried to half-smile at her in thanks, knowing her expression wouldn't change. He was right of course, and she just picked up her books and filed out the door with the rest of the class.

Ned blew out a heavy breath and shook his head, "That girl scares the crap out of me."

Peter nodded his agreement. Michelle did scare him, but not because of the reasons Ned and Flash were afraid of her. She was absolutely brilliant, and had this incredible ability to not let anything or anyone get to her. He could never be sure of what she was thinking, and that's what was scary.

"Dude, are we getting out of here, or what?" Ned whined, standing by the door.

Peter hopped up, breaking out of his own head for a moment to remember that Happy was probably waiting for him. "Er, yeah of course! Let's go!" The two boys rushed out of the now empty classroom, heading straight for their lockers.

Ned gaped when Peter pulled out his duffel bag, "Dude, you have an overnight bag to bring to Mr. Stark's? So cool!"

He grinned at his best friend, throwing his books into the now-empty locker, "I know right? I can't wait! Apparently, I have my own room at the compound." As they pushed open the school doors and headed down the steps, Peter felt his spidey senses tingle for a second before he was thrown down onto the concrete. He hopped up immediately, trying to figure out how the heck that just happened.

Ned was scrambling to get up next to him while Flash stood at the top of the steps, cackling like a maniac with his friends. Apparently, the bully pushed Ned, who caught Peter on the way down. "That's what you get for letting your little girlfriend fight your battles, Penis Parker!"

A glimmer of annoyance settled within Peter, knowing full well that he should have been able to stop both Ned and himself from falling. Although, if he had, it probably would have looked suspicious considering the fact that Ned was twice his size.

Peter rolled his eyes, "Since when did you start resulting to physical violence, Flash? When MJ called you out for being a complete waste of oxygen?"

Ned grabbed onto his arm when pure animosity shone behind Flash's eyes, and whispered furiously as the bully made his way down the steps towards them. "Peter, you can't get into a fight here at school, you're Spiderman!"

Peter shrugged him off, not really caring about what a fight as Peter Parker meant. He was so sick of Flash picking on him and his friends, and besides, it wasn't as if the bully could actually hurt him. Flash shoved Ned out of the way and gripped Peter by the collar, bringing him closer, "What did you just say to me, you piece of shit?"

Before Peter had the chance to fire back, a voice boomed behind him. "Take your hands off of the kid before you lose them." Peter looked over his shoulder to see Happy, who had never looked more intimidating, stretched to his full height and sporting a sharp black suit with his sunglasses on and a cruel scowl stretched across his face. Peter blinked as he remembered that before Mr. Stark became Iron Man, Happy had been his personal bodyguard, and a professional boxer before that. He definitely looked the part now.

Flash must have realized that he really didn't want any trouble with this man, because he immediately released Peter from his grasp. Happy stopped his advance right behind Peter, towering over him more than Peter cared to admit. "Who the fuck are you, and what do you think your doing grabbing the kid?"

Peter tried to bite his lip to stop the laugh that escaped when Flash's face paled considerably. The bully sputtered, "N-no one, s-sir. I was j-just leaving!" He turned on his heel and sprinted down the block with his friends, who kept looking back to catch a final glance at Happy.

"Yeah, he'd better run." Happy muttered under his breath before turning Peter around and checking him over. "You good, kid?"

Peter nodded, fidgeting to try and get the new wrinkles out of his button up shirt. "I'm fine, Happy. Thanks."

The now-driver studied him for a moment before nodding. He looked at Ned, whose face was lit up like he had just met Santa, "Are you okay? I saw the shit that kid pulled."

Ned nodded enthusiastically, "Yes! More than okay! Are you here to take Peter to Mr. Stark's?"

Happy raised his eyes at Ned, and looked to Peter as if asking "you're going around telling people about this?"

"Er, Ned's my best friend. I tell him everything." He tried explaining, which only earned him a happy yelp from his right.

Happy shrugged and gestured for Peter to get into the back of the Audi, "Let's get going, kid. Tony's waiting." The excitement that had been building up all week suddenly returned full force, and Peter buzzed with newfound energy. He quickly moved to do his and Ned's handshake before practically diving into the backseat.

Mr. Stark was waiting for him.

XX

"Alexandria, may I come in?" Her father asked with a slight knock on the door.

Alex rolled over to the right side of her bed to switch off the speaker and called out, "it's open!"

Joey stepped into the room, letting his eyes wander over the antiqued furniture, folded quilt, and finally settling on the new suit lying across her loveseat. "You cleaned your room, mi figlia."

She grinned and pushed off from her spot on the bed, "I needed something mindless to keep me busy before my first official mission."

Her father cupped her chin and ran his thumb along her jawline. "You are going to make us proud tonight."

Alex swallowed and tried to nod, "I'm going to try, Father."

Joey moved past her to sit on the edge of the bed and patted the spot beside him. When she obliged, he turned to look her in the eye. "I'm going to bring you to the training room for your briefing in a moment, but I wanted to speak with you first."

Alex furrowed her brow, but didn't break eye contact. Her father voice suddenly sounded far away as he continued, "Everything will change tonight. You are going to ensure that the other Families comply with our demands, whether they want to or not. You understand that this is necessary, don't you?"

She nodded slowly; automatically regurgitating the information the Family had been drilling into her head for ten years. "Yes, Father. The Genovese Family has been unmatched in size and power since the eighteen-sixties. It is time that we take our rightful place among the Commission."

Joey grinned, obviously pleased with her answer. "We have taught you well, mi figlia." His gaze suddenly turned serious, and Alex straightened her posture in turn. "I want you to remember one thing tonight, Alexandria. I am your father, and I know what's best for you and what's best for the Family. If I tell you to do something tonight, that contradicts Luca's, Angelo's, or even your grandfather's orders; I need you to trust me. I want you to answer my call above all others. Can you do that, mi figlia?"

She didn't understand why something like this would ever come up, but Alex didn't dare question Joey when he was looking at her with such intensity. "Of course, Father. I will always trust you."

He was silent for a few moments, and Alex swore the tension surrounding them could have been cut with a butter knife. Suddenly, he grinned and kissed both of her cheeks, "I knew I could count on you." Joey pushed off of the bed and gestured her towards the door, "I'll show you to the briefing room." She took a deep breath to follow him, but as he reached for the doorknob, he paused and turned back towards her. "This conversation never happened, Alexandria. Do you understand me?"

Alex nodded, feeling an icy thread of doubt spread within her chest. "Yes, Father, I understand."

"Excellent."

XX

"Kid, come taste this sauce and tell me if it needs a little more garlic." Mr. Stark asked from his place in front of the stove. Peter complied immediately, abandoning the mixing bowl and sticking his finger into the saucepan. He tried to hide his grimace with a small smirk, "It's fine, Mr. Stark, but I think we might have missed a step."

The billionaire frowned and returned to the cookbook on the counter. "Let's see...garlic-check, salt-check, sugar-check, tomato-"

"Actually, I don't think we added any sugar. I don't remember putting it in there." Peter interrupted, searching the large kitchen counters for their missed ingredient. He found it next to the refrigerator, "Oh, here we go."

Mr. Stark muttered something to himself and took the measuring cup from him before pouring it slowly into the saucepan. He stirred it for a few minutes and tasted the spoon. Peter's lips upturned when he watched the billionaire's eyes light up. "Yup, that definitely tastes much better. Good job, kid."

Peter tried not to faint in elation from the compliment, instead opting to hop up onto the only clean portion of the countertop. The spacious kitchen resembled a war zone, and looking back on the evening, the description probably wasn't very far off. When Peter arrived at the Compound earlier that evening, Mr. Stark wanted to work in the lab for a bit. The pair worked for a few hours, with Peter soaking up every piece of information Mr. Stark was willing to impart on him like a sponge, before F.R.I.D.A.Y. reminded the billionaire that Peter hadn't eaten. He didn't mind of course, but apparently Mr. Stark regularly forgot how normal human beings lived their lives according to a schedule.

His mentor decided to forgo ordering a pizza in lieu of cooking an actual meal. The problem was that neither of them had any experience in the kitchen. The most complex dish Peter could make was a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, while Mr. Stark still burned his macaroni and cheese from time to time. Apparently, that all was meant to change tonight. "Kid, if you're going to be staying here on the weekends, I think we should learn how to fend for ourselves. We can't always rely on Aunt May or Miss Potts to cook for us. Don't you agree?"

Peter chewed on the inside of his cheek, "But Mr. Stark, where are we supposed to start?"

The billionaire gave him a stern look before rummaging around in the pantry, "Kid, how many time have I told you today to call me Tony?" He pulled out what he was looking for, "Ah-ha! My mother's cookbook." Mr. Sta-Tony flipped through it, "F.R.I.D.A.Y., what do we have lying around the kitchen?"

"Miss Potts had InstaCart delivered to the Compound yesterday. It seems as though you have all of the ingredients for Chicken Parmesan, sir."

"Then Chicken Parmesan it is, kid." He grinned happily, tossing the open book down onto the countertop. "Check over that list and help me gather all of the ingredients. You'll have to search through the cabinets and pantry, I honestly couldn't tell you where anything is."

They spent the next thirty minutes reading and re-reading the instructions, separating everything out until they were sure they were set. Peter was surprised at how normal this felt, just cooking dinner with Tony Stark, his hero and mentor. Neither one of them were particularly careful when it came to measuring, so they spilled quite a bit of flour onto the counters. That, of course, led to a mini food fight between the two, with only flour and sugar as their weapons. While they had changed their clothes, the kitchen still looked like a disaster.

"Mr. Star-" At the billionaire's glare, Peter corrected himself, "Er, Tony. I noticed you haven't gotten any calls tonight. I know you're usually really busy, is it just an off night?"

Tony shook his head, waving off the question. "Nah, I asked F.R.I.D.A.Y. to hold my calls on the weekends now, unless it's Pepper, of course. I spend enough time during the week dealing with Stark Industries."

Peter wasn't quite sure how to respond to that. He had his mentor all to himself...all weekend. A warm feeling blossomed in his chest, but Peter shoved it down, careful to not reveal all of the emotions he was feeling. "T-that's cool. How long does the chicken need to cook for?"

"Well, the book says to cook everything for about fifteen minutes, but my mom scribbled in a note in here to let it stay in the oven for twenty. And I'll always take her advice over some book." He winked before slipping the dish into the bottom rack of the oven. Tony's eyes wandered around the disheveled kitchen, "Geez, kid. Who knew cooking dinner could be so messy?"

Peter grinned and hopped off his spot atop the counter and wet a washcloth, "Yeah, but it shouldn't take too long to clean if we do it together."

"Clean? I'm not sure if that word is in my vocabulary." Tony asked, smirking.

He looked at the billionaire strangely, "Er, yeah, aren't we going to clean up our mess?"

Tony shrugged, "I was just going to have the staff do it. But who knows, maybe this is some kind of teaching moment that I almost missed out on." He started putting the caps back on the ingredients they had used.

Peter tossed the last dirty paper towel in the trash can just as the timer went off, and his stomach growled loudly in reply. Tony's lips upturned in amusement, "Hungry, or something, kid?"

He moved a hand behind his head in embarrassment, "Er, just a little. I have to eat a lot more than someone else my age to keep up with my metabolism."

Tony's brow furrowed as he pulled the Chicken Parmesan out of the oven and placed it on the stovetop. "What happens if you skip a meal, or something like that?"

Peter folded his arms and thought for a moment, "Nothing crazy, I just get a little dizzy, and my head will start to hurt. It's like when a diabetic has low blood sugar."

As Tony pulled out two plates for them, he gestured for Peter to grab the silverware from the drawer he was leaning against. "That's good to know. Especially if I'm responsible for keeping you alive on the weekends."

Peter's cheeks heated, "I'm sixteen, Mr. Stark, not five. I can take care of myself."

His mentor cut into the dish and placed a large chicken breast on one plate, and two on Peter's, "It's Tony. And exactly, you're sixteen years old. A teenager." Tony handed him his food, and Peter followed him over to the living room couch. "An adult is supposed to take care of you."

Before Tony could reach for the remote, Peter floundered over his quickly growing curiosity, set his utensils down on the coffee table and turned to completely face the billionaire. "Is that why you're letting me come here, Mr. Stark? Because you think someone should be taking care of me? I know May works double shifts on the weekends, but I'm fine by myself. "

He flinched at the question, obviously not expecting for a sixteen year old to call him out. Tony's gaze met Peter's, and he knew that the billionaire was trying to decide if he wanted to answer honestly or play it off as a joke. "Please, Mr. Sta-Tony. I'd really like to know why you would want me here."

His mentor nodded slowly, and took a long sip of his water before answering. "Alright, kid, here it goes." Tony met his eyes, an intensity behind them that Peter had only seen a few times before. "You remind me of myself in a lot of ways. Smarter than everyone else in the room, taking on more than you need to just to prove something to someone. Anyone. But you're better than I ever was. My father wasn't exactly the best role model. He never told me he loved me, never even told me he liked me. I spent my entire childhood trying to prove something to a man who would never give me the love I craved so much." Peter's throat constricted as Tony talked, but he didn't dare interrupt the man. "You're such a good kid, Pete. The best. I don't want you to grow up to be like me, I want you to be better. You already are. I want…"

His gaze met Peter's again, and his eyes were bright in the light's reflection. "I don't want you to think that you need to earn my respect, or affection. I'm already so proud of you. I just want to spend my time with an extraordinary kid, and do everything in my power to keep you safe." Tony smirked and shook his head. "And Pepper, god knows I love that woman. She's the one who suggested this arrangement, you know? Heard me going off about Germany, and how well you did with the Vulture. She thinks you're a good influence on me. I don't think she's wrong."

Peter stared back at his mentor with an unrecognizable emotion dancing within his chest. He couldn't…he needed to try and explain how much this meant to him. That Iron Man was proud of him, that he wanted to keep a kid from Queens safe and happy.

"Mr. S-Tony…I don't even know what to say. I really don't. No one…I just-thank you, for everything. You've been my hero for the better part of ten years. I used to dress up as Iron Man whenever I got the chance. And then you brought back the Stark Expo, the one where that lunatic tried to kill everyone. I thought since, you know, I was wearing the mask, that I could help save the day, like you. You saved me when I tried to take one on myself. When that spider bit me, and I found out I had these powers, I finally got my chance to be the hero. I became Spider-Man because of you, Mr. Stark. Tony."

Tony froze again, "Hold on, pause. Are you telling me that you're the kid that tried to stand up to the Hammer drone?" Peter could see that his mentor's mind was running wild, so he nodded silently, trying to give him some time to process.

"I...I'm going to put a pin in that for now." He finally breathed out and turned back to his dinner. "I'm…I'm glad you're here, Peter. You're a great kid. We're in this together now, right?." He took a large bite and spoke with his mouth full, "Now that we're past all of the mushy stuff, pick a movie. F.R.I.D.A.Y. will put on whatever you want to watch."

Peter blinked and continued staring at his mentor. The man had never been so real with him before, except when he was reprimanding him a few months ago, so this was a first. He felt…warm. Appreciated. Looked after. Iron Man would keep him safe. They were in this together.

"Kid?"

Peter hummed in acknowledgement.

"Pick a movie." Tony said again with his mouth full, earning a small laugh from Peter before he complied.