Tony finally felt like he could breathe again. He'd hacked the prison's surveillance where Adrian Toomes aka the Vulture was being held and he'd had F.R.I.D.A.Y. analyze all the video and audio from the past year to make sure the convict hadn't told anyone else about Peter or hatched any kind of elaborate scheme to hurt him. Surprisingly, he hadn't. The only time Peter had ever been mentioned had been when one of the other inmates had asked Toomes if he knew who Spiderman was and he'd denied it. But that didn't mean Tony trusted him. He still needed to eradicate any possible threat to Peter, so he'd pulled some strings with the higher ups that he knew and had Toomes transferred to the Raft where he'd truly be cut off from the outside world. And yeah maybe that was a little harsh, but Tony didn't care. He would do whatever it took to protect his son.
Speaking of Peter, he read the text message he'd just gotten from Steve. Your son's asleep on the floor up here. Do you want me to send his friend home?
Tony glanced at his watch. 2:55pm. He hadn't meant to stay down here that long. He'd planned on sending Ned home earlier knowing Peter usually got tired around 2:00pm. Although he'd almost made it to 3pm today. Maybe this was progress.
I'll do it. I'm on my way up. Tony texted back.
"Shut it down F.R.I.D.A.Y." Tony said as he left the workshop. The lights turned off and the door locked behind him.
He walked off the elevator into the common room to Ned enthusiastically regaling Steve, Clint, and Sam about something with a video game controller. He met Bruce's eyes from across the room and the man inclined his head to the floor in front of the small couch he sat on. Tony padded over and his eyes softened when he noticed Peter fast asleep on the carpet.
"Hey Ned." Tony said and instantly garnered his attention. "I think it's time to call it a day kid. You can come back and visit later."
Ned's brow furrowed in confusion at the sudden dismissal but then it turned into a full-fledged frown when he noticed Peter passed out on the floor.
"Is he ok?" Ned asked and Tony could tell he was worried.
"He's fine." Tony reassured. "Do you need a ride home?"
"Um no I'm good. Thanks though." Ned stood and shot another concerned glance toward Peter before addressing the rest of the group. "It was uh nice to meet all of you."
"It was nice to meet you too Ned." Steve smiled and the rest of them followed suit and said their good-byes.
The kid gave them all a little wave and then got in the elevator and left. Once he was gone, Tony turned his attention back to Peter. He bent down and eased his arms under the kid's neck and knees before standing with a small grunt, careful to lift with his legs. Peter wasn't heavy per se but he wasn't exactly light either. He took the few steps toward the couch.
"Move." He ordered and Clint, Sam, and Steve scrambled to get off the couch. Once they were out of the way, he set Peter down. He covered the kid with a blanket and eased a throw pillow under his head before taking a seat in the small space left between the pillow and the end of the couch. After he was settled in, he grabbed the remote control and propped his legs up on the coffee table.
"Movie?" He asked the room.
"Sounds good to me." Clint agreed from where he and Sam now sat on one of the other couches. Steve was perched on the loveseat next to Bruce. The extra seating space was so much better than the compound.
After only fifteen minutes of arguing, a fairly short amount of time for them, they settled on a flick and F.R.I.D.A.Y. dimmed the lights. He glanced down at Peter still sleeping peacefully. The volume on the TV didn't seem to be too loud. Tony brushed the hair back off his kid's forehead and let his hand settle there, loosely resting on his head. Peter's hair was getting really long. The kid needed a haircut or pretty soon he wouldn't be able to see through the mop. Tony leaned back against the cushion. Peter was safe next to him. Adrian Toomes was locked up far away on the Raft. His teammates surrounded him. He could finally unwind.
Peter came awake slowly, trying to orient himself. A situation he'd found himself in way too many times this past week. He'd meant to just rest his eyes for a minute on the floor but obviously that hadn't happened. He must've fallen asleep and now he was lying on something soft, clearly not the floor. Someone must've moved him and he hadn't even woken up to notice. He was warm and comfortable and a reassuring weight rested on his head. It took him a couple seconds to figure out it was someone's hand. His dad's. He was just about to let sleep claim him again when he remembered Ned. Shit. He was a bad host.
His eyes flickered open. He was on the couch in the common room, the lights were dimmed and some action movie played on the screen in front of him. Bruce, Steve, Clint, and Sam were still here but Peter didn't see Ned. He rolled onto his back as he scrunched his eyes shut and stretched. The hand on his head moved to resettle on his forehead. He opened his eyes and they instantly met Tony's before slipping closed again with a sleepy sigh.
"Waking up?" Tony asked, amused.
"Mmm." He hadn't decided yet. He was still tired and oh so comfortable. "Where's Ned?"
"I sent him home." Tony said softly and the hand on his forehead brushed his hair back.
Peter felt kind of bad about that. He'd conked out on his friend.
"You haven't been asleep very long." Tony said it like an observation but Peter read the underlying suggestion to it. That he probably needed more sleep. For once he didn't disagree. He didn't think he could get up right now even if he wanted to.
Peter rolled over so he was facing the back of the couch instead of the TV. He felt Tony readjust the blanket over him when the movement dislodged it. That was nice. He sunk back to sleep in seconds.
He woke up later to the smell of food. Had he slept through dinner? That was a long time. His eyes snapped open. The team must've ordered Chinese food because everyone had a characteristic white take out container in hand as they watched what Peter recognized as Skyfall. He sat up and frowned when his head throbbed. Ow. Why did his head hurt?
"Hey." His dad said from the same spot at his side. "You hungry?"
Peter rubbed his eyes and glanced at Tony. The truth was he wasn't. He actually felt kind of crappy but he knew refusing food wouldn't go over well for him.
"Sure." He said as he dropped his feet on the ground so was sitting instead of lying down. He gathered the pillow and blanket up and tossed them toward the opposite end of the couch.
"Here." Tony handed him a container. Sweet and sour chicken. His favorite. How did Tony remember this stuff?
"Thanks." Peter took the food and the plastic fork. "What time is it?"
"Seven." Tony answered. "Ned must've worn you out."
Peter frowned as he picked at his food. That was a long time. He hadn't slept that long in days. And now his head hurt again. Maybe he should say something, but then Tony would freak out or whatever and it was probably nothing anyway. He managed to eat about half the container before closing it and setting it aside on the coffee table so Tony wouldn't notice he hadn't finished it. He tried to watch the movie but for some reason it seemed to make his headache worse. The team constantly bantered about what Bond should be doing differently and other better strategies but Peter didn't feel like joining in.
"You're quiet." Uh oh. Of course Tony would notice. "You ok?"
"Yeah." He gave Tony a small smile. He just needed some Advil. Maybe there was some up in their suite. Or an aspirin. Or anything. "Um actually I'm going to go back upstairs. I have to call Ned."
Tony frowned at the excuse but didn't protest when Peter stood, said good-bye to everyone and left.
As soon as he got back to the penthouse, Peter went straight to the bathroom in his room and opened the medicine cabinet. Empty. Dammit. He tried the bathroom in the hallway next. Also empty. Tony's room was the only one left. He hesitated for a few seconds at his door before deciding to enter. Tony's bathroom's cabinet had a ton of junk in it. Shaving cream, razors, aftershave, nail clippers, tweezers, rubbing alcohol, Q-tips, cologne, lotions, soap, bandaids, antacids, ah ha Advil. Thank god. He snatched the container up.
"What are you doing?" Peter started violently at Tony's voice and whipped around. Tony didn't look mad at finding Peter in his bathroom going through his stuff, but he didn't exactly look happy about it either.
"Um…"
Tony zeroed in on the bottle of Advil in his hand. Whoops. He'd forgotten to hide it.
"You came in here for this? What's wrong?" Tony frowned and took the Advil from his hand.
"I just have a headache. A normal headache. I didn't want you to freak out about it." Peter sighed.
"Do you usually get headaches?" Tony asked.
"Well no but—"
"You slept all afternoon and now you have a headache but instead of telling me you sneak up here to steal this?" Ok he was mad.
Peter rubbed his temples. "Can I just have a couple of those? You can yell at me later."
Tony pursed his lips but after a few seconds he unscrewed the bottle and handed Peter two pills. Peter dry swallowed them right away and Tony made a face. Peter watched as he grabbed a clean glass from his bathroom counter, filled it with water, and handed it to him. Peter took it graciously and drank it to wash the pills down.
"Come on." Tony guided him out of his bathroom and back to the couch in the living room. "Sit."
"Here." Tony handed him the TV remote after Peter sat down, but he didn't take it.
"I don't want to watch TV. It bothers me. Makes it worse." Peter said as he stretched out and laid down against the cushions. There was no reason to waste the energy pretending to be fine now that Tony knew his head was bothering him.
He gazed up at Tony and met his assessing stare unflinchingly.
"Can you please try not to overreact for once?" Peter huffed when Tony continued to stare at him. "It's seriously just a headache. I promise."
"Oh you promise." Tony said sarcastically. "So you got your medical degree when I wasn't looking?"
Peter sighed heavily. He knew Tony could be snarky but he usually he wasn't like that with him, especially when he wasn't feeling well. "Are you still mad at me about the whole Vulture thing?"
"What? No." Tony answered but didn't say anything else. He still looked twitchy and unhappy. Great.
"Then why are you being like this?" Peter complained.
"Like what? Worried about you? Oh I'm sorry. I thought that was my job."
Peter rolled his eyes at the sass. "I'm fine. Can't you just wait like half an hour to see if the Advil works before you go running to Bruce?"
Tony still had his lips pursed and he didn't look inclined to agree.
"Tony come on. Please. It's really not that bad." Peter practically begged. He didn't want a little headache to get completely blown out of proportion. At this rate Bruce was going to think he was some kind of wilting flower.
"Fine." Tony agreed tersely. "But if it's not completely gone in half an hour I'm talking to Bruce."
"Deal." Peter gave Tony a small smile. He could just say it was gone regardless and put an end to this nonsense.
"And don't even think about lying to me." Tony pointed a finger at him accusingly. "Believe me. I can tell when you're lying. You're a terrible liar."
Or not.
"I would never lie to you." Peter responded cheekily.
"See right there? Lying." Tony didn't look amused.
Peter snorted a short laugh. He actually felt a little better. Maybe the Advil was working.
Tony glared down at him for another long few seconds before he gave in and sighed. "You're going to turn me grey kid."
"There's hair dye for that?" Peter offered.
"Don't be cute." Tony scolded.
"Oh I'm sorry. I thought that was my job." Peter jokingly reiterated Tony's previous words to him in an attempt to ease the tension.
Tony just raised an eyebrow at him and walked away.
Peter frowned but didn't ask where he was going. He closed his eyes and rubbed them to try to ease the lingering ache behind them. He heard Tony running the water in the kitchen but he didn't feel like getting up to see what he was doing.
Peter kept his eyes closed even when he eventually heard Tony walk back toward him. Tony didn't say anything but a second later an ice cold washcloth was set over his forehead and eyes. Peter could help the small groan of relief that sprung from him.
"Better?" Tony asked. And it was. So much better. Especially since Tony didn't seem irritated with him anymore.
"Yeah. Thanks."
Peter felt Tony grab his lower legs and pick them up so he could sit down on the couch before re-settling them in his lap. Peter thought about saying something sarcastic about how they had more than one couch for a reason, but he knew Tony just wanted to be close because he was worried. When he worried he hovered. And trying to keep him from hovering just made it so much worse, so Peter just resigned himself to it. And to be honest, as much as it annoyed him, Peter kind of appreciated the proof that Tony cared.
They sat together in silence for awhile, Peter half asleep and Tony tapping away at something on his phone, until Peter realized his headache had finally faded away. Apparently Advil, a cold washcloth, and some quiet really did do wonders. He pulled the damp washcloth off his head and sat up. Tony turned his attention toward him at the movement.
"You ok?" Tony asked. He looked sort of tense.
"Yeah I feel a lot better actually." Peter answered and couldn't keep the surprise out of his voice. "Headache's gone."
"You sure?"
"Yes." Peter rolled his eyes as he set the washcloth on a magazine on the coffee table.
"So you don't care if I turn the TV on then?"
"No. Go ahead." Peter shrugged and shifted backward against the couch armrest so now his feet barely grazed the side of Tony's thigh instead of across his lap.
Tony picked Tombstone, claiming it was an old classic. Peter had never seen it but he didn't miss the opportunity to throw out a shot about Tony being an old classic himself as they settled in to watch. Tony kept eyeing him periodically throughout the beginning of the movie until he seemed satisfied that the headache really must be gone. Only then did he seem to actually relax. Peter started to feel a little guilty about making him so obviously worried over the headache thing, and probably the falling asleep on the floor and sleeping the whole afternoon away thing, oh and the Vulture thing. Hmm. So really the entirety of the day. Whoops.
"Um sorry about kind of being a handful today." Peter said with a wince once he'd realized it.
Tony let out a little snort and shot him an amused glance.
"And uh sorry about the whole Vulture knowing my identity thing. I really didn't mean to keep it from you, and it's not like I haven't been worried about it, but I knew there wasn't really anything I could do about it so I just kind of tried not to think about, you know?" Peter rambled.
"Well you don't need to worry about it anymore. It's taken care of." Tony said cryptically.
"Wait. What does that mean?" Peter frowned.
"Shh." Tony said as he went back to watching the movie where everyone was in the middle of some sort of gunfight.
"Tony? What do you mean it's taken care of?" Peter tried again.
Tony patted his knee distractedly. "It means I took care of it. Like I said I would. I don't want you to worry about him anymore. He's somewhere he can never get to you."
"Oh my god did you kill him?!" Peter's voice squeaked. Would Tony really do that for him? Have someone killed in cold blood to protect him? No way. Right?
"What?! Of course not! You think I'd do that?" Tony turned to him in surprise.
"Well no, but the way you just said that sounded sketchy as hell. Like some Godfather-esque kind of shit."
"Hey. Language." Tony chastised with a frown. "I didn't kill him. I had him moved somewhere more secure."
"More secure than prison?" Peter was flummoxed. What did that even mean?
"I don't want you to stress about it. It's my problem, not yours."
"How is it not my problem? I caused it." Peter argued.
"Because you're the kid and I'm the dad, so it's my job to fix the stuff you can't when you screw up. Got it?"
Peter just blinked. He was a little hung up on the fact that Tony had called himself dad. It was the first time he'd done that. Maybe that meant he didn't mind when Peter called him that.
"I took care of it. You're safe. That's all you need to know." Tony continued more softly and gave his knee what was meant to be a reassuring squeeze. Too bad it seemed to hit him right in the funny bone.
He barked out an involuntary laugh and gave Tony a little kick. "Stop. You know I'm ticklish."
Tony grinned at him and for a second Peter was worried he was about to be all out tickle attacked, but instead Tony just patted his knee again before turning back to the movie. Peter still had so many questions he wanted to ask but he could tell Tony wasn't going to indulge his curiosity, and honestly he was just glad to know he didn't have to worry about it anymore. It'd been a constant nagging concern in the back of his mind for the past year and now in under a day Tony had taken care of it just like that. He felt like a weight had been lifted off him. He really wanted to thank Tony, but he knew his dad wouldn't like that and it'd probably start another 'serious conversation', something he definitely wanted to avoid.
For a moment, Peter let himself feel fortunate. It seemed ridiculous because realistically he was probably one of the unluckiest people ever, having lost so many loved ones in his life, not to mention getting bitten by a radioactive spider, but right now he couldn't help but feel like he'd lucked out because for how amazing Tony was as a businessman and a superhero, he was even better as a dad.
The next week flew by. Ned visited a couple more times because Tony still wouldn't let Peter leave the Tower since he had yet to make it through the day without needing a nap. Peter couldn't believe he wasn't completely back to normal yet. It'd never taken him this long to recover from an injury before. He'd even heard Tony and Bruce talking about it the other night when they'd thought he'd been asleep. Apparently Tony was worried about him, but Bruce wasn't as surprised about the lengthy convalescence. Bruce had explained that the type of head injury he'd sustained would've killed anyone else so there really wasn't a precedent for how long it'd take Peter to completely recover. But he was recovering. He'd only napped for half an hour today.
The good news was school started tomorrow, in eleven hours to be exact, and Peter couldn't wait because there was no way Tony was going to keep him home from school just because he still needed a late afternoon nap. He'd finally get to escape. He practically buzzed with excitement as he packed all the stuff he'd need in his backpack including the note from Bruce that said he wasn't allowed to participate in gym class yet due to a concussion. He was actually happy about that. He hated gym class. He always had to pretend to struggle when he knew he could easily show up everyone, but he hadn't been an athletic phenom before the spider bite so he couldn't be one now. Sometimes it grated on his nerves though.
He set his backpack on the floor and picked up around his room. He and Ned had left the place a little trashed yesterday and Tony hadn't said anything about it yet but he'd given him a look when he'd come in earlier and seen the disaster. When it was back to a relative semblance of order, he made his way out to the kitchen to grab something to drink.
Tony and Steve still sat next to each on the couch pouring over stacks of papers, exactly how he'd left them a few hours ago after dinner. Peter wasn't sure what the papers were because Tony had deflected the question when Peter had asked earlier, but he knew it had something to do with the government's regulation of the Avengers and it had both men all worked up.
Peter grabbed a bottle of coke out of the fridge and unscrewed the cap, the hissing noise finally garnering their attention.
"What are you still doing up?" Tony asked when he noticed Peter in the kitchen.
"It's only like nine o'clock." Peter raised an eyebrow and took a long drink as he walked over to them.
"It's after ten." Tony corrected with a glance at his watch. "And you have school tomorrow."
Peter rolled his eyes and took another drink. "It's fine."
"No it's not fine. And you shouldn't be drinking caffeine before bed." Tony frowned when he noticed the coke.
"It's not like I'm drinking coffee." Peter challenged, eyeing Tony's nearly empty cup of coffee on the table.
Steve snorted and Tony shot him a look.
"I'm an adult. That means I can drink coffee whenever I want."
"Whatever." Peter sipped at the bottle in his hand as he tried to surreptitiously catch a glance at some of the papers on the table.
"All right hand it over." Tony held out a hand for the soda.
Peter took a little step back and took another long deliberate drink. Steve barked out a laugh at the open defiance.
"Give it." Tony ordered, tone turning more serious. He didn't seem to be in a very playful mood tonight.
Peter didn't know why but something inside him rankled at the command. May never would've cared if he stayed up late or drank a coke before bed. Who did Tony think he was?
He raised an eyebrow at the man and drank the rest of coke down in a few long gulps before capping the empty bottle and tossing it to him.
"Stop trying to tell me what to do. I'm sixteen not six." Peter said and then walked away.
"Could've fooled me. You're sure acting like you're six." Tony called out after him. "And you better be going to bed!"
Peter rolled his eyes even though Tony couldn't see it. He managed to gather enough self control to shut his bedroom door silently instead of slamming it shut like he really wanted to. He didn't want Steve to witness that. Peter didn't even know why he'd made such a big deal out the stupid soda anyway. Maybe it stemmed from all the restrictions Tony had piled on him recently. No Spiderman. No visiting Ned. No leaving the Tower. The coke had just been the last straw. And it was something he could actually take control over.
He continued to stew as he brushed his teeth, washed his face, and changed into his pajamas. He climbed into bed because he wanted to. Not because Tony had told him to.
"Lights F.R.I.D.A.Y." He requested and his room turned an inky black. He grabbed his phone off his nightstand and started texting Ned to complain, but he just ended up getting more annoyed when his friend didn't seem to understand why he was so pissed off.
I'm just saying that if I want to drink soda before bed then I should be able to. And I don't need him telling me when to go to bed. I'll go to bed when I want! I'm not a baby. Peter tapped away angrily.
I don't know what you want me to say Peter. My parents don't let me drink soda after dinner. And I hate to break it to you but most people our age still have a bedtime. Mine's 10pm on school nights and 11pm on weekends. Ned texted back.
But you're texting me right now. Peter argued. It was 10:30pm.
Well yeah but my parents don't know that. They think I'm asleep.
May never cared when I went to bed. Peter tried to explain so Ned would get it.
Well yeah but May was like super lax. You do know that right? I mean I doubt anyone else our age could've gotten away with sneaking out all the time like you did to be Spiderman. Ned's response didn't really make him feel better.
So you're saying May was a bad guardian? Peter typed back angrily. He didn't know why he seemed to be itching for a fight.
No. But maybe a little…irresponsible? Don't get mad. Too late.
I'm just trying to be straight with you. Most parents have rules for their kids. Especially a bedtime. If that's pissing you off I'm just worried this is going to be a bit of a rough adjustment for you. Ned continued before Peter could curse him out for the earlier May comment.
Like you might want to prepare yourself that you're not going to get to run as free anymore. If Tony wants you in bed by 10pm then you're obviously not going to be allowed to go out patrolling until 3am.
Peter hadn't even thought of that. He'd just assumed that once Bruce gave him the all clear he'd go back to living his life like he used to, which meant coming and going whenever and patrolling at night. Sometimes until 3am if it was busy. But if Tony was going to get on him about caffeine before bed then somehow he didn't see him letting him stay up all night as Spiderman.
Shit. Peter texted back. Ned might be right…
It'll be ok man. Ned tried to reassure him. We can talk more tomorrow. I'll see you at school. Night.
Night. Peter replied.
Well fuck.
A/N: I want to thank Jokul Frosti The Winter Child for making the amazing cover art for this story!