Thank you so much to everyone who has been reading and reviewing, and thank you for waiting so patiently. I know this one has been a little bit later than usual, but I've been dealing with some medical stuff.
The Calm After the Storm
Tony stared down at the boy on his lap, a hand on his hair, gently working through the filthy, matted curls. He was sure that his own hair was in a similar state...he felt like he could use a nice shower...and maybe a massage. And he hadn't been the one to lift a building off of himself and then crash a plane. The kid had. Without his suit...not that Peter needed it to be Spiderman. But without it, Tony had no idea how badly he was hurt. And he needed to know that because the kid was definitely hurt. Tony would put his money on concussion and probably some broken ribs. The kid had been out of it since the plane crash, but even then, he'd helped Tony take down Toomes...and then he'd saved the man's life.
This kid was the real deal.
In the front seat, Happy threw another nervous glanced back at them, his eyes drifting down to Peter. "Tony…"
"You already informed Helen?" Tony checked.
"Yeah. She's waiting in the Medbay. But is...is he…"
"He'll be fine." Tony bit out, looking down at the boy on his lap and resting a gentle hand on his shoulder. Peter would be fine. He very determinedly didn't think about finding the boy in the rubble...how the kid's eyes had refused to focus. He didn't think about leading Peter away from the beach and then turning to find him on the ground, barely able to sit up on his own. Or the feeling of the boy collapsing in his arm and being unable to tell how hurt he was. Being afraid to move him. Carefully scooping him up and carrying him to a waiting car where Happy had nearly had a fit.
Peter groaned a little in his sleep and Tony resumed the motion of running a hand through his hair, hoping to soothe him a little. He had only woken up for a minute or two but had been coherent enough to have something like a conversation. Sort of. At least he'd seemed to understand what was happening. So the head injury hadn't been too bad...well, that was Tony's fervent hope. "You're alright, kiddo." Tony murmured, removing his hand from Peter's hair, then paused when he saw the blood on his hand.
Gently he prodded Peter's head once more, finding the gash that was the source of the blood. Pulling a handkerchief out of his pocket, he pressed it to the gash, using enough pressure to stop the bleeding but hopefully not hurting him. They needed to clean him up. Hopefully, find him some pain medicine and get him into a real bed.
In his lap, the boy whimpered and Tony flinched. The kid was hurt. He'd done everything right...at least, it seemed like he had. He'd gotten closer to Peter. Hung out with him. Made sure he felt heard and valued...because he was! Tony valued him so much. Hell, he loved the kid. But he'd still gotten hurt. That wasn't fair, some small, angry part of him whispered. Not fair that Peter had been hurt by this asshole. Not fair that the boy had been crushed in an abandoned building, and had been forced to lift it himself.
But Peter had done it anyway.
"Easy, bud. You're okay." He told the boy, running his fingers carefully through his hair, trying not to go near the gash. "I've gotcha, kid. You're alright."
"Is he?" Happy asked, voice tight. "He just crashed a fucking plane." Tony was well aware...and Happy didn't even know about the warehouse yet.
"He will be."
They pulled up to the Compound what felt like hours later, It wasn't, of course. Happy had practically floored it the whole way there, throwing nervous looks back at Tony and the kid in the mirror. Tony wanted to make a joke about not knowing that Happy cared...but of course he knew.
Dr. Cho met them at the car, pausing when she caught sight of Tony and Peter in the back seat, Peter's head pillowed in Tony's lap, the bleeding in his head having finally stopped. Or At least slowed. He'd been holding the handkerchief there the whole time, and it was soaked in red and staining his hand and his pants, but Tony barely noticed. Helen glanced from Peter to Tony, eyebrows lifting, and for a moment, he thought she was going to ask what the heck they'd been up to. Instead, she gestured to the man who was walking behind her with a gurney. Tony slipped an arm under the boy's knees and pulled him up to rest his head on his shoulder. "Alright, kiddo. Now would be an excellent time for you to wake up and give me a hand." He told Peter without much hope.
He didn't even stir.
"Right," Tony muttered, scooting his legs over and out of the car as he cradled Peter in his arms, the boy's bony hip resting on his leg. The kid wasn't all that heavy, but it was awkward to turn and not hit his head on anything. The man with Helen, a nurse he sort of recognized, leaned in to take him, careful of the boy's head, straightening with a grunt and placing him on the bed they'd rolled out.
"Are you hurt?" Helen asked, sparing Tony a glance.
"Not really." He waved her off, shutting the door behind him and watching the nurse strap Peter onto the gurney. Helen was lifting one of Peter's eyelids and shining a light. Immediately, Peter jerked away, a whimper escaping as his eyes scrunched shut. He tried to move, but he was strapped down, and Tony hurried to grab his shoulder before he could really freak out. "Hey, hi...kiddo. It's okay."
"Mr. Stark…"
"Yep. It's me. You're fine. Just relax, bud."
"But...I can't…"
"You're on a gurney. We're going to get you to the Medbay and Helen is going to look you over. You're safe, kid." Peter blinked at him, then nodded, eyes drooping once more. "There you go, bud. You just rest."
"Mkay." He murmured, releasing a breath and slipping back into sleep. Peter trusted him...enough to go back to sleep after waking up strapped to a gurney. Tony smiles a bit, patting his shoulder, then followed as the bed was wheeled into the building. Helen had a tablet in her hand and was typing furiously all the way to the Medbay where she had the nurse help her slide Peter into a bed.
"He was in a plane crash," Tony told her, standing off to the side. "Hell...he caused a plane crash. He was on the outside of the plane...and he crashed it and he was fighting the Vulture and earlier he had a building dropped on him." She blinked, staring up at him for a moment, then nodded, sighing under her breath. "He lifted it." Tony went on, eyes darting to the boy once more. The nurse was cutting the boy's suit and he flinched...Peter had made that himself. Still, he didn't say anything. Didn't tell her to stop. He never told Helen to do anything.
Tony had to fight the urge to ask how Peter was. If his injuries were bad. Because they had to be bad. The boy had lifted a whole building off of himself. The kid had to be hurt. He'd passed out. Hit his head. But Tony was afraid to know what exactly had happened. How bad he was actually hurt. So he hovered for a while until Helen shot him a look. "You've got to let me work."
"I don't want...I don't want him to wake up alone." She lifted an eyebrow. "I…"
"I'll call for you if he starts to wake up." She told him, voice somewhat sharp. Then she softened. "I promise. Just give me an hour to get him settled."
Tony nodded, wiping a hand over his mouth, then headed upstairs.
He paused at the bar, reaching into the cabinet to grab a glass, staring at it for a moment. He wanted to fill it without something amber-colored and strong...wanted to throw it back and forget, just for a moment, what it had looked like to see Peter, dazed and sick-looking...how he'd turned around, and then when he'd seen him again, the boy had been on the ground, swaying. Staring up at him with pupils blown and lips trembling as he'd tried to understand.
The kid would be fine. He was enhanced. Peter had known him. Had been talking. He would be fine. Tony put the cup down, staring at it for a moment, then replaced it in his cabinet, holding his hand against the cabinet door. No. He wasn't going to drown himself...wasn't going to dull it. He needed to be there when Peter woke...the kid would need him.
He needed the kid.
Tony sighed, moving over to the sofa and dropping onto it, wiping a hand over his face. He was sore. Tired. Old. Then again, he was old. Changing his mind, he pushed himself off of the sofa and headed to his bedroom. He needed a shower. A change of clothes. Maybe to call Peter's aunt, but he had no idea what he could tell her. He knew he owed her something, though, so he grabbed his phone out of his pocket on his way to his room, dialing her number.
She answered after a few rings, her voice hesitant. She probably didn't have his number saved. "Mrs. Parker? This is Tony Stark. I'm sorry to bother you…"
"Oh. Hello, Mr. Stark. How can I help you?" She asked, sounding almost concerned.
"It's actually about Peter."
"Is he okay?"
"Yes. Of course...he's fine." Tony lied. "There was a...a project. An internship project…"
"I'm sorry?" She asked, and he cursed himself for not rehearsing this.
"No, I'm sorry. Um...I asked him if he wanted to come to the compound after his dance and he said yes. He was helping me with an internship program and he fell asleep."
"Oh. Um...he didn't tell me." She sounded upset. Almost angry, and he tried to intervene.
"That's on me. I'm sorry...I should have asked you first. Or had him call you. It was a time-sensitive project and I thought he could use the experience but...it's on me. I'm sorry, Mrs. Parker." And he was. He was sorry that he'd dragged her nephew into this and sorry that Peter had been hurt. He was sorry that he hadn't gotten to the kid in time to save him from being buried under a building and sorry that Peter had crashed a plane. Most of all, he was sorry that it was going to happen again. Not this part, exactly. He would do his best to make sure that Peter didn't get crushed under rubble or crash a plane.
But Peter would get hurt again. Because Peter was Spiderman. He was a superhero. And superheroes got hurt.
May blew out a breath. "It's okay. Just...um...make sure he calls me next time...please."
"Of course." He hurried to assure her. He knew the kid didn't want to tell his aunt, and he understood that, but they would have to at least try to keep her in the loop. "Again, I'm so sorry…"
"It's okay, Mr. Stark. He loves that internship, you know? Just...loves it. Sometimes I have to triple check to make sure he did his homework at night…"
"I'll start reminding him." He offered, and she laughed, the sound making something in him unclench. She had been fooled. Peter would be okay.
"Don't tell him I told you that. He'd kill me." There was a fondness in her voice that made him smile. "How is it going? The internship?"
"He's doing a wonderful job." Tony wasn't lying, not even a little. "Pete's one of the best. You should see him work in the lab sometime. I can give you a private tour."
"If I can ever get a day off." She told him, her tone telling him that she wasn't quite joking. A thought struck him then, one that he was working out before he'd even finished his next sentence.
"I didn't tell him yet, but I'd like him to apply for one of the paid internships with Stark Industries."
"A...a paid internship? Really?"
"Pepper has been pushing for it,". He lied, "and I think we're going to have one or two opening up soon. I'm sure he'd be perfect for it." Peter would be perfect for it because the spot would be designed just for him. "I'll probably ask him about it this week if it's okay with you."
"Oh...of course. Of course, it's okay. I'm...wow...I'm sorry. I'm just surprised." She laughed a little, the sound full of her surprise. "That would be amazing. He'll be so happy. Thank you, Mr. Stark."
"You can call me Tony, Mrs. Parker. And you're very welcome."
It was the least he could do for the kid. The very least. And he wanted the kid close. Wanted to make him a real part of the team. The internship was just the first step.
He headed back to the Medbay after hanging up the phone, his footsteps loud in the empty hallways. He hadn't given Helen quite an hour, but he figured it was close enough. She seemed to be expecting him when he stepped into the room, glancing up from her tablet and giving a wry smile. "You took longer than I'd expected."
He chuckled a bit, worry breaking through the amusement. "How is he?"
Sighing, she held up the tablet, gesturing at the display so that it appeared above the screen in hologram form. A list. "The concussion is my top priority right now. There were broken ribs and a dislocated shoulder, but he concussion was my biggest concern. It's already getting better, thanks to his enhanced healing, but I'd like to keep an eye on it. He hasn't woken up since I got him settled. Lots of cuts and bruises and muscle strain, so I have him on some pretty strong pain medication. He might wake up tonight, but I can't be sure."
"I'm going to sit with him." She nodded, probably already knowing that.
"Of course. Have you contacted his aunt?"
"I told her that he was sleeping over." Helen gave him a disapproving look but didn't say anything, just led him to the little curtained off area where Peter was lying, dressed in a hospital gown, the blankets up to his chest. In the back of one hand was a needle, the tubing taped to his hand so it wouldn't get dislodged. Tony had to assume that the bag hanging beside him was pain medicine. On the inside of his elbow was another needle, and Tony followed that one to another bag hanging from a pole.
"Hey, kid."
Peter had been cleaned up, the blood and dust and sand scrubbed from his hair and body, and his damp hair had been combed out of his face. But his face was still colorful with mottled bruises...his arms too. A monitor at his side displayed his heart rate and oxygen levels, a nasal cannula supplying the oxygen which Tony thought was probably a precaution. Then again, then kid had inhaled plenty of dust and smoke, so maybe not.
Pulling a chair over, he sat down on Peter's left side, which seemed to have fewer bruises. Reaching out, he took the boy's hand, careful not to touch the needles or bother any of the tubes. "Hey, buddy. It's Tony. Did I mention how impressed I am? Because, holy shit, Pete. You took down a plane. By yourself. You pretty much single-handedly saved the day. Took down the Vulture in a pair of sweatpants and saved all of the Avengers tech." Tony squeezed his hand a little. "Now you can get some rest, huh? Take a break from giving me a heart attack every few minutes." He ran his free hand over his face, smiling at Peter and shaking his head. "I'm glad you're okay. I'll be right here when you wake up. Well...I'm going to have a bed brought in because I'm old and it's been a long night, but I'll be in the room." Running his thumb over the bruised knuckles, Tony stared down at the boy's black and blue arm. "I'm sorry you missed your dance, buddy."
The bed they brought in wasn't great, but it was better than trying to sleep in a metal chair. Rolling it right up to the kid's bed, he made himself comfortable, listening to the soft sounds of Peter breathing until, more quickly than he would have guessed, he fell asleep.
His kid was safe. The rest, he could deal with in the morning.
Thank you for reading!