A/N: Good evening, folks! This chapter has barely been proofread, so please ignore any mistakes. The action's starting to heat up now, so fasten your seatbelts.
Thanks as always to my beautiful reviewers: LoonyLovegood1981, NotCurrent, EmilyF.6, Wisdomsqueen, Stark staffie and fatinkimkai88. Y'all are my heroes. Thanks also to those who followed and added this story to their favourites list.
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Enjoy.
ICARUS
4
ICARUS IS FLYING
Damn that kid. Damn that fucking kid for working his way into Tony's heart, for getting under his skin so he can use his technology and stop him from getting too close to the truth, for blinding him to Spiderman's true identity - because now he knows, it's obvious. It's so obvious that Tony would laugh if he wasn't so close to passing out. As it is, he stumbles back against the side of his car, looks at his angrily beeping watch and reads with detached interest its glowing message to BREATHE.
It feels as if he is underwater. His blood is roaring in his ears; his vision keeps slipping in and out of focus. His heart hammers wildly in his chest.
Panic attack.
It didn't take long after the first day of Peter's internship - three or four months ago, now - for him to start coming to the Tower more and more frequently - almost every day, in fact. Tony made it clear that he's welcome whenever he wants to come, and although technically Peter is meant to be working on Floor 28 on any day of the week he's there except Thursdays, when he comes up to Tony's lab, more often than not Tony finds himself wondering down to the research lab to see if his intern is there, and invite him up to join him. Whether he likes it or not, Tony is definitely becoming more attached to the kid - more interested in his wellbeing, what he's working on, his school life.
And it's not just Peter's endless excitement and enthusiasm. There's something else, that he can't quite put his finger on; something that makes Tony feel oddly protective over him. Because there's something not quite right about the kid. He's definitely hiding something, and the more apparent this becomes, the more uneasy Tony feels.
Some things, he keeps quiet about, for the sake of both of their sanity. The bruising, for example. After he noticed the livid bruising on Peter's wrist, the finger marks where it's almost certain someone grabbed him, Tony has been trying to keep an eye on him. Sure enough, some days he comes in favouring one leg, or moving one arm less than the other, or wincing and grabbing at his ribs as he turns or moves too quickly. On one occasion, Tony could see the concealer on his face, trying (and mostly failing) to cover a bruise blossoming across his jaw.
Then there are the more obvious occasions. Perhaps most memorable is the time Tony accidentally kicked a door behind him with too much force, and it slammed closed. Peter, who was deeply engrossed in a project, jumped about a foot in the air at the noise and clamped his hands over his ears with his eyes screwed shut for a good five seconds before he realised there was no danger. And there was the time Tony grabbed him by the arm to tell him something as he was leaving - not aggressively or overly tightly, but firmly enough - and Peter pulled away as smoothly as if he'd barely been touched. He's much stronger than he looks.
But however hard Tony tries, however many background checks he's done on May Parker and her records and all her associates, however many times he's hacked the Midtown School's database to see if there are any kids with criminal records, or records of violence or bully, there's nothing. He can't confront Peter with nothing.
"This is what you've been working on?" Peter exclaims. "You've never even met Spiderman. I mean - have you ever even met Spiderman?"
"No, but I'm planning to." Tony's been tracking this guy for months now. To be honest, he's an almighty pain in the ass - the whole secret identity thing is driving Tony slowly insane. "I'm hoping this will help persuade him to meet me."
"Why?" asks Peter, examining the red Spandex creation in awe.
"Because he's dangerous."
"He saves lives, Mr. Stark. He's one of the good guys."
"But he's powerful. What happens if he stops being a good guy? If a bad guy changes his mind or something? There's nothing stopping him from swanning in and killing all the people he says he's protecting." Sometimes the kid's naïveté is infuriating.
Peter hums, unconvinced. "But he has a secret identity. He must do that for a reason. Isn't it wrong to - to unmask him like that?" Something has him worked up; he's tapping his foot agitatedly on the floor and his shoulders are tense. Is there something Peter isn't telling him? Or perhaps it's just a matter of hero worship - he wants to protect the guy running round fighting crime outside his home.
"In my experience, secret identities are the most dangerous ones." Tony picks up the mask he made. "He's pretty fascinating, though. Do you think that web stuff comes out of him?"
"What? Ew! No!" Peter looks scandalised. "That's - that's really gross, Mr. Stark."
"Please stop calling me - "
"FRIDAY, pull up a video of Spiderman," Peter interrupts. Teenagers. The AI obliges. "Look," he says, pausing the video as Spiderman is mid-swing. "He makes that hand movement and then it comes out of that shooter on his wrist."
"Okay. I don't have a formula for that webbing shit, but I can make shooters. What d'you reckon's going on with his eyes? God, that suit's shitty."
"I like it," says Peter defensively, but he's eyeing the red and blue suit stood proudly on the mannequin.
"Some kind of focusing system, maybe?" Tony says, ignoring him and looking at his mask. Filtering the light through, perhaps, so he isn't dazzled. It's not a bad idea. "Ooh, watch this," he says, pressing the spider printed on the centre of the suit's chest. The tight fabric immediately loosens, so it is easy to take on and off.
"Awesome!"
"I know. I'm still your favourite superhero, right?"
Peter grins. "I don't know. Captain America is pretty cool ... "
Tony playfully cuffs him upside the head. "No, he isn't. He's not even a real superhero. He's just really strong and he has a shield. Besides, you don't get to make that judgement till you've met him."
"Can I meet him?"
"No. I'm your favourite superhero."
"Rude," Peter huffs, then brightens and says, "Hey, FRIDAY, can I meet Captain America?"
"Of course," FRIDAY says, and Tony swears he can hear the triumph in her voice. "Would you like me to ask him to come down to the lab? He is currently in his suite on Floor - "
"No. Absolutely not," Tony says resolutely, as Peter's eyes widen. "Nope. Don't ever authorise Peter and Steve to be in the same room together."
"You're the boss."
"Hey, FRIDAY, can I meet Hawkeye?"
"No! Jeez, kid, Hawkeye? Really? You think he's cooler than me? I have a flying metal suit of armour that - that shoots people!"
"He has a bow and arrow, man! That's, like, infinitely cooler." He skips backwards easily when Tony tries to grab him.
"FRIDAY, Peter is not authorised to meet any of the Avengers apart from me. Ever." Tony picks up a Stark tablet and hands it to him. "Here. Draw me a picture of Iron Man and think about your sins."
Obediently, Peter opens up a drawing app for making design specs and draws a red and yellow blob with a speech bubble saying, I'M NOT AS COOL AS HAWKEYE!
"Teenagers," Tony mutters, turning back to his work. More trouble than they're worth.
"So, does the suit have any cool tech in it? An AI, or, like, secret guns or anything?"
"Nope. Not even a tracker. Basically, it's just a glorified scrap of Spandex. Barely even worth a hundred dollars in materials. I guess the novelty means it's worth more, though. How do you think the eyes work?"
Peter pulls up a stool and pulls some notepaper out of nowhere. The kid has an ability to find things in this mess of a lab to rival only Tony's own. "I think it could be like this," he says, and immediately starts scribbling something down in almost indecipherable handwriting without even stopping to think. This boy is smart. Where did he even get this idea from?
He passes the paper to Tony in triumph. " ... I think," he finishes quickly, noticing his mentor's expression. Tony just stares at him.
"What, did you redesign his suit as well or something?" he deadpans. Peter goes red and splutters something about I was just thinking about it, turning away to hide his face. "Got any ideas about the web shit as well?"
"I - no," Peter says quickly. "But are you sure you need to design the whole suit? You could just ... give it to him, or something. Let him make his own adjustments. You don't need to find out his identity. What if - if you just knew him as Spiderman, or something? He could drop by, like, weekly, in his suit, and you - "
Tony narrows his eyes. "Why are you so passionate about this? Do you know him?"
It doesn't seem possible, but Peter blushes even more. "Uh - no. No."
He looks so uncomfortable that Tony almost starts laughing. "Then how do you know you can trust him?"
"I ... don't, I guess. It's really hot in here. Can I open a window?" He looks so miserable that Tony waves him on and decides to drop the subject.
He starts talking about the tensile strength of the webbing and who could have manufactured it. "OsCorp, maybe? They do a lot of work in genetic enhancements ... "
"Uh, really? Yeah. Um, I just remembered, I gotta - uh, I gotta get home early tonight ... May wants me home - to - to cook dinner."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. We're - we're all out of microwaveable mac 'n' cheese. I have to make ... pasta."
"Pasta doesn't take an hour to cook."
"Ours is ... artisan pasta. It takes longer. Bye, Mr. Stark!"
He's out the door like a shot. Tony wonders why it's so important that Peter makes dinner on time that he's so panicked when he almost forgets to. Then FRIDAY says, "Boss, you have a meeting at half past five. I would recommend leaving now in order to make a good impression. And maybe putting on a suit."
It's five o'clock. Tony had been planning to skip the first half hour of the meeting to supervise Peter, but now he's gone, and so is Tony's trail of thought about the Spiderman mask, so he shrugs and heads down to his bedroom to shower and change. Tony Stark is nothing if not unpredictable. Even on three hours of sleep with five cups of coffee in his body and only half a tuna sandwich to soak it up. Especially on three hours of sleep with five cups of coffee in his body and only half a tuna sandwich to soak it up.
He showers and changes in record time, before heading down to the conference room on the twenty-third floor. Pepper is waiting for him, and she tries to hide her surprise at his appearance. "Hi," she says. "Ready?"
"No. What's this meeting about, again?"
She sighs heavily and checks her watch. "This guy wants to become our main supplier for iron and other metals. I think he thinks it would be a good advertising campaign? To supply the materials that Iron Man uses in his suits? I don't know. He seems a little ... unstable, so don't push him."
"Would I ever?"
She slaps his arm. "Yes. So don't. His prices aren't too bad. We're considering taking the deal."
A young man emerges from the elevator. "Mr. Winfield! It's wonderful to finally meet you." Pepper fixes a professional smile on her face and shakes the man's hand. God, she's good at this, Tony thinks, watching her absently until she smacks his arm again.
"Hi," he says. "I'm Tony Stark."
"I know," gushes Winfield immediately, clasping his hand like it's a lifeline. Tony fights the urge to roll his eyes. "Mr. Stark, can I just say, I'm a huge fan ... "
Tony glances at his wrist, notices there isn't a watch there, pretends that there is one, and says, "Wow, would you look at the time already. Looks like we only have five minutes left. What was it you wanted to sell us again?"
The man blinks, looking horrified. "Five minutes? I thought - "
"Mr. Stark, there has been a security breach in your lab on Floor 47." FRIDAY's cool voice fills the lab.
"Shit," says Tony loudly. He turns to the man in front of him. "Look, Mr. - Mr. Wing ... something ... I already have a metal supplier. It's going to have to be a hard pass. I've heard OsCorp likes low quality materials? Anyway, I have to go."
He starts running towards an elevator. "Talk to me, FRIDAY."
"Your prototype for a new Spiderman suit has been stolen," she says. "The thief entered and escaped through the window, which Mr. Parker opened because he felt too hot. I have closed it now."
"How did they get in?"
A pause. "The only plausible option is that they scaled the building, boss."
"There was no plane? Or helicopter? Glider, even?"
"Nothing. The thief climbed in through the window, took the suit, and jumped out again while I was alerting you of his presence."
"He jumped out? No parachute?"
"No."
"It had to be Spiderman."
"Are you referring to the masked vigilante who combats petty crime in Queens?"
" ... Yes? We have a whole file on him."
"I can't find any files relating to the vigilante Spiderman."
"What?" The elevator finally reaches the right floor and Tony charges out, running into the lab and looking around the lab wildly. Sure enough, the suit is gone. There is a note taped to the chest of its mannequin. THANKS FOR THE NEW SUIT! I HOPE IT WASN'T TOO EXPENSIVE. IN EXCHANGE, I LEFT A GIFT ON THE COMPUTER. LOVE FROM SPIDERMAN ;)
Tony runs to the window. Spiderman, the bastard, is long gone.
He moves slowly to the computer. On it is a specification, in perfect detail, for Tony's suit. Except, this time, the plans he's been working on with Peter - to absorb excess heat energy from the repulsors back into the suit to help power it - are there too, with small changes that just might make it work. He closes the tab and opens up Documents. The Spiderman file is gone. Deleted. "How did he even get onto the computer?"
"It would appear that Mr. Parker forgot to log out."
The kid left in too much of a hurry to log out. Tony can still remember how he boredly gave Peter access to edit all files, since he couldn't be bothered to choose which ones the kid was allowed to see. Don't click on anything that looks important, he said. Now, he slams a hand on the table furiously, shouting in anger. "I'm an idiot!"
"Don't be too hard on yourself, boss," says FRIDAY gently. "At least thirty-six percent of the blame can be attributed to Mr. Parker."
"Don't blame him," he says sternly. "None of this is his fault. Is Spiderman out now?"
"A video of him was posted to YouTube seven minutes ago."
"What's the location?" Tony's already getting into his suit.
"I'll direct you to the coordinates."
Five minutes later, Tony is flying across Queens while FRIDAY uses satellite imaging to pinpoint a location. She speaks calmly in his ear the whole time, giving him directions and attempting to assuage Tony's furious disbelief that someone has managed to catch him completely off guard. The bastard - thinking he can just waltz up to the Tower and steal shit? "How the fuck did he even know I'd been watching him?"
"It seems that he has been watching you right back, boss." FRIDAY's voice is subdued.
How dare he? How fucking dare he?
"In all fairness, you were watching him too."
"He's a vigilante. Vigilantism is a crime, which makes him a criminal."
"Vigilantism is not actually a crime. It's just that most of the things vigilantes do are considered illegal - namely assault. Although no legal action has been taken, many consider the Avengers a vigilante group."
"There he is."
Tony swoops down and slams into Spiderman as he swings between two buildings, wrapping metal arms around his struggling body, flies upwards, and drops him none too gently onto the hard concrete of the nearest roof, landing nearby. Spiderman coughs slightly and tries to stand up, but staggers back into a seating position on the ground, wheezing. "Ow."
"So, what? You thought you could just waltz in and steal my stuff?"
"Wha - Mr. - " he coughs, and suddenly lowers his voice by about an octave. "Iron Man."
"Answer my question."
"You made that suit for me. And in return, I solved a problem you've been working on. A suit for a suit."
"I made that suit to give to you when I knew I could trust you!"
"You can trust me. I help people. This suit is just going to help me do that."
"You stop crime, huh? Well, theft is a crime. As is breaking and entering. And I'm pretty sure I could get you convicted for a whole lot more than that."
Tony lunges forwards and grabs the mask.
"Please! Don't!"
"Give me one good reason why not!" Tony's shouting now. He doesn't care.
"I have a family to protect! Don't you get that? If you reveal my identity to the whole world, and there's a criminal out there who wants to manipulate me, and he takes my family, what then? I'm not like you, Mr. Stark; I don't have loads of money to spend on private security to protect them or whatever. So say one day a murderer comes to my apartment and I'm not there to stop them - what if my family gets killed? Then I'm all alone, and I don't have anyone. How am I meant to protect people if I can't even protect my own family?"
Tony pauses. "How old are you? You sound like a kid."
"I'm not going to tell you how old I am," says Spiderman. His voice has dropped again.
"Why do you keep doing that thing with your voice?"
"What thing with my voice?"
"Lowering it to make yourself seem older. Never mind. Listen, I can't let you go. I gotta bring you back to the Tower. You can show me your face in private, I won't tell anyone who you are, and then we can have a very long talk about why theft is wrong."
"I'm really sorry, Mr. Stark, but I can't do that."
Something white completely obscures Tony's vision. "FRIDAY - what - "
Then a leg sweeps under his with alarming strength, knocking him flat on his back, and there are four quiet thwips, each one the sound of webbing sticking an arm or leg to the ground, rendering Tony completely immobile. "Son of a bitch!" he yells, but Spiderman is long gone. He struggles uselessly against the bonds, but he can't even see anything, let alone break free of bonds stronger than steel and a hundred times more sticky.
Tony lets his head drop uselessly against the concrete and tells FRIDAY to call Rhodey.
