If They Knew All About You

by MsHermia

Tony Stark has lost his son when he was only 2 years old, stolen away in broad daylight. Years later, Tony has just made it through the disaster with Ultron. He is trying to keep himself and the team together but relationships are strained and tempers are running high. Then a random turn of events leads to his path crossing with that of a particular vigilante. #AU #Irondad

58. Legal Guardian - Chapter 58

Chapter 58 - Legal Guardian

All his words were reassuring. Mr. Stark said that things would be just fine. That he'd be alright. That there was a plan and Peter would just have to trust them. That everything would be just fine.

But the man's eyes said something different. His pulse said something different. It screamed that he was nervous, tense, even... maybe even afraid.

10 minutes at best, that was how long Mr. Stark held him, tried to calm him, but Peter just couldn't get a grip on his senses. He felt exposed, too open, too vulnerable. One wrong step, one wrong word and they might all know. He might just give it all away. 10 minutes and then the lady from CPS turned up again. Peter didn't even mind her all that much, she looked just as scared by everything happening around them as he felt.

But she was a stranger. A stranger that worked for a government agency. They couldn't trust her and he couldn't hold it against either Miss Potts or Mr. Stark that they pulled away from him when the lady entered the room. Still, it felt like someone pulled the rug out from under him, again. His skin was prickling with nerves. Without the cuffs confining him to one place, Peter had a hard time just lying there. He wanted to fidget, unable to find a position on the bed that he could tolerate for more than a minute or two, but every movement reminded him of that bullet wound in his arm, the bruises on his body.

Mr. Stark was the first to reach for his hand again. He would whisper reassurances, repeat those words about safety and protection that all rang like lies even though Peter knew that he wanted to mean them, wanted to make him believe, maybe make himself believe that they would get out of there.

It was a waiting game. They both pulled a chair close to either side of his bed and settled down, took turns talking to Peter, would type frantically on their devices if they weren't, exchange glances from time to time. Time seemed to crawl as they were waiting for the results of the DNA test. Results that in their primary purpose, Peter didn't even question anymore. Way too quickly, he had made peace with what had come to be his new reality. If there had been any doubts left in him before, doubts that might have still plagued him the day before or even that very morning, they had all evaporated. As soon as Mr. Stark had pulled him close, when his arms had held Peter tightly and this ambient vibe had settled in his stomach, everything had seemed so clear all of a sudden.

Maybe he was just being silly. It didn't make any sense, scientifically. He couldn't deny it though. And maybe it wasn't even about genes, maybe it was just trust. Comfort that had been earned over time, over the last few months and some serious trouble Mr. Stark had helped him through. Maybe he really did just want to believe it was true, but with all the thoughts, all the worst-case scenarios that buzzed in Peter's mind, not once was he worried that the test could somehow not confirm what had been unthinkable.

The unthinkable that Mr. Stark really was his dad.

No, it was everything else. His powers, things in his DNA that none of them had even thought of, that might catch them all by surprise. The door opening and a whole SWAT team pushing in to arrest him. Those kinds of fears kept him on edge. Mr. Stark needed to be reasonably sure though right? Reasonably sure that whatever they had planned would work, otherwise they surely would have busted out of there long ago. Or maybe not.

It had to have been less than an hour later when Natasha Romanoff made her way back into the room, carrying a tray of food. It wasn't even lunch or dinner time, maybe she was just grasping for an excuse to check up on them. It was then that Peter caught a glimpse of the armed guards patrolling in the hallway. They couldn't just bust out, could they? Not with Miss Potts there. Or other civilians that might be caught in the crossfire. No.

Shaky hands shoved the pieces of cut-up sandwich into his mouth that the Widow had brought him. He wasn't even hungry, but all the grown-ups insisted that he had to keep his strength up, that his body needed the energy to heal. It didn't seem like the best idea to him. Healing any faster than he normally would, seemed to be anything but a desirable goal there and then. As if she could read his mind, the Widow disappeared again and returned with more bandages and proceeded to carefully wrap his wrists that had been rubbed raw between the Winter Soldier's assault and the cuffs that had cut into his skin.

Things settled into a still tense but somewhat calmer atmosphere after the Widow left. It was just them and the lady from CPS. Peter might have even been on the verge of something that could resemble control if it hadn't been for Clarke. Peter could feel the man strutting down the hallway long before the door flew open. Mr. Stark in turn seemed to feel the nervous energy that radiated off Peter, the way his muscles automatically tensed.

The chief still had that satisfied smirk on his face, his underling still on his heels. "Still here then, Stark."

Mr. Stark must have been physically biting his tongue for he stayed quiet even though he was seething next to Peter. Before he could break and spew something back at Clarke, Doctor Abrahams came into the room followed by the Congresswoman.

"Ah, getting a little crowded in here, huh? Well, let me get to it then. I assume this is what you've been wait—"

"Give me that!" Clarke ripped the sealed envelope out of the doctor's hand and tore the paper apart at the top.

Next to his bed, Mr. Stark had gotten up and only stopped rushing forward when Miss Potts leaned in quickly and physically held him back, whispering softly, asking him to stay calm. Her eyes wandered over to Peter and he gave a couple of little nods. Sure, he'd just stay calm and wait for the NYPD's police chief to figure out his secret. No big deal.

Clarke whirled around and pressed the envelope and the piece of paper he had pulled out of it back against the doctor's chest. "Run this again!"

Dr. Abrahams' eyebrows shot up and after a quick glance in Congresswoman Davis' direction he took a step back from the chief and unfolded the documents. The look on Chief Clarke's face was anything but pleasant. That was probably a good thing for Peter. No smug smirk or anything, all that was gone.

"The lab evaluates the test as conclusive." The Doctor quickly read through the first pages, only gave a halfhearted glance at the other two pages. "The boy's DNA is a perfect match for that of Aiden Elliot Stark. 99.9% alignment as would be expected with—"

"Run. This. Test. Again!"

Mr. Stark cleared his throat, eyebrows arched. "On what grounds, chief?"

"On... on the ground of shut up, asshole!" He was advancing at Mr. Stark, finger pointing right at him. "I know you had your hands in this. I know it was you who told the boy to decline the test in the first place! I know you're hiding—"

"Congresswoman Davis," Mr. Stark turned, not even bothered by Clarke's temper tantrum. "I would implore you to take a good look at who you align yourself with. I get that it looks good for a reelection campaign, but the police departments endorsement isn't worth much if the head of the department is an unhinged clown with anger management issues."

The Congresswoman's face was positively red. "Chief Clarke, please, calm yourself."

Miss Potts stepped up next to Mr. Stark, both almost forming a barrier between Peter and the rest of the room. "We complied with your order and now, you will let us go. Doctor Abrahams," She turned to the doctor directly. "I do expect the hospital will follow procedure in this. I would hate to have to call in our legal department yet again. I don't think they will—"

"I know he works for you, Stark. I know you've been hiding him." Clarke was positively livid.

"I wasn't hiding him, you moron. I don't DNA test every intern SI takes on. Definitely will think about adopting that policy now though."

"Wait... " Congresswoman Davis looked back and forth between the chief and Mr. Stark. "You... the boy works for you?"

But it was Miss Potts, who answered. "He is a Stark Industries intern."

The Congresswoman's eyebrows were moving closer and closer together, her face otherwise blank. "You... you knew?"

"Of course, he fucking knew!" Clarke turned to her, smelling an opening. "He's fooling all of you! Thinks the rules don't apply to him, as usual!"

Mr. Stark didn't even flinch at Clarke's outbursts, his focus was entirely on the Congresswoman. "Congresswoman, I know you and I, we don't know each other very well, but I assume given my public profile you're familiar with my general MO." He couldn't help himself and stepped closer to her, his voice dangerously low. "If you think that I'm at all capable of knowingly working in the same building, let alone same room as my son who I've been searching for for over a decade, if you seriously think I could do that without doing something highly radical about it, you're alarmingly mistaken. I will get you anything between 50 to 100 character witnesses in here so fast who will vouch for my irrational over the top decision-making. And if you..."

Miss Potts stepped a little closer to him. With every word, Mr. Stark's voice had risen in volume as well as in agitation. But her hand on his arm reigned him in, stopped him effectively.

"None of that even matters." Miss Potts held her head high, voice firm. "Even if we had known that Peter Parker really was Mr. Stark's son, it still wouldn't change anything about his legal rights as his father."

"It's obstruction of justice!" Clarke had some of the glee back on his face. It made Peter's blood run cold. "He probably planned the whole thing. No way fit to care for a child!"

"Bullshit," Mr. Stark spat at him. His hands were balled up into fists as if that would physically contain him. "If you honestly think that you can try to keep me from my son for just another second or actively try to strip me of my parental rights so Chief Ass-face here can get off at throwing his weight around implying that I had anything whatsoever to do with keeping the boy hidden or even had him disappear, I promise you that you will find yourself with a defamation lawsuit so big, not even a third rate fast food restaurant would trust you flipping burgers after I'm done with you if you as much as mutter a word of accusation in my general direction. There is absolutely no evidence to suggest that I knew where my son was all along, because I didn't."

He didn't even glance in Clarke's direction now, his voice strong and in full force aimed at the doctor and the Congresswoman. "If you think you can keep me from my son I will make you suffer the consequences in front of the court, legal as well as public opinion. So do think very long and very hard about whether you really want to stop me from walking out of here with him."

"Mr. Stark, please." The Congresswoman had her hands up, eyes wide and round. "Of course we would never accuse you of anything like that."

The doctor shot a glance at Peter then cleared his throat. "Perhaps this conversation is more appropriate to be held in Miss Thomas' office. Gentlemen, if you—"

"There is no conversation necessary," Clarke spat at the doctor. "This is just Stark trying—"

"Chief Clarke!" It was the first time Peter had heard the doctor actually raise his voice. "The office, please."

The men stared daggers at each other until Clarke blew out an angry groan. "Johnson!" He pointed a stubby index finger at the police officer in a clear order for the man to stay put and stormed from the room. The doctor's eyes moved to Mr. Stark instead who gave a short nod.

"Right." He turned to Miss Potts. "Pep..."

"It's... it's fine, you go. I'll be here. I'm not going anywhere."

Mr. Stark swallowed hard, then nodded again. He sent a short glance over his shoulder at Peter like he needed to reassure himself that he hadn't moved. "I'll just be a minute."

The thought of Mr. Stark leaving even just the room without him made Peter's pulse pick up. It was pathetic and childish, but he couldn't help it that his eyes were wet. He was lying on his side, knees pulled up to his chest, one arm wrapped around himself. His senses were dialed up to the maximum, it was like the Winter Soldier had just let go of his throat, like Peter had just pulled the trigger of that gun mere seconds ago. Miss Potts was by side in an instance. She kneeled down next to the bed and put an arm around him. That seemed to be good enough for Mr. Stark for now. He gave another short nod and followed the doctor out of the room.

The clicking sound as the door fell shut rang through the room like a shot. Peter turned his face into Miss Potts' shoulder like it would hide him from everything that could go wrong.

"Shh, don't worry, darling. It's okay."

"What if... what if they arrest him, what if—"

"They won't." She blew out a long breath. "They won't. There's nothing to arrest him for."

"But... but Miss Potts—"

"Shh, we've got this. Just breathe, darling."

He tried to do just that, tried to tear his mind away from worst-case scenarios. Her hand found his and she squeezed it softly.

"Pepper." Her voice was low, whispered only for him to hear.

He nodded, eyes closed. He could do that. He could distract himself with that instead of scaring himself more and more. They had managed to keep his powers quiet, had done something that had them not pop up on that DNA test. If they could do that, they could do anything. If they could do that, it meant they really had this, had him. Would keep him safe. He could trust that, not just cause he wanted to but because they had already proven their strength.

It was only minutes later that the door to the room flew open again and Peter flinched away from the sudden movement. Ms. Potts... No, Pepper... Pepper still held his hand in her own.

"Shh, it's alright. You're alright," she whispered, her touch warm and strong on his skin.

It was Mr. Stark. He walked up to the bed with a few long and swift strides. His eyes flickered to the far side of the room, taking stock. That one NYPD officer was still hovering close to Peter's bed and the social worker sat in the corner drawing as little attention to herself as possible. His eyes back on Peter, he gave a short nod in their direction at which Pepper carefully squeezed Peter's hand once, then let go and stepped to the side. Hers was replaced by Mr. Stark's hand.

"Come on, buddy. Can you get up? We're getting you out of here."

"Mr. Stark!" The officer stepped closer to them, blocking the way to the door. "Step back from the detainee. You have no authority to—"

Mr. Stark turned on him, his hand still holding Peter's. "I'll give you a taste of actual authority, asshole, if you put another finger on my—"

"Tony." Pepper was by his side at once, planted herself between them and put her hand on top of Mr. Stark's. Her voice was low, would have been inaudible for anyone but Mr. Stark if it hadn't been for Peter's enhanced hearing. "Just take a breath, honey. We... we have to wait. When we have the release papers we—"

"I'm done waiting," he snarled eyes still on the officer.

Both of Pepper's hands came to rest on Mr. Stark's arms, squeezed them, eyes searching his face, looking for his attention. "I know you want him safe. I do, too. But if you're directly acting against police orders we're going to—"

"The prints were a match, so was the DNA. They have no right. He is to be released to a guardian and I'm his legal guardian. His only legal guardian. Unless Chief tight-ass wants to make up a reason why—"

"Shhh. Tony, calm down." She pulled him closer, eyes intently on him, waiting for his glance to meet hers.

"No." He finally looked at her. "I'm done being calm. We're leaving."

With another whoosh, the door flew open once more. The police officer jumped in surprise. Chief Clarke stood in the doorway, one hand on the door holding it open. Just behind him, the Congresswoman was lingering in his shadow.

"Get your hands off that boy, Stark! He's not leaving."

"Oh, he is." Mr. Stark wasn't even looking at the man, his focus solely on Peter.

"I'm warning you. I don't give a fuck how much money you fling around. This city is under my rule."

Mr. Stark's hand was still in his. He couldn't tell if it was only his body that was shaking or if some of those vibrations came from Mr. Stark. Anger or fear, he didn't know. Peter squeezed his hand tightly, not wanting him to let go. Scared they would leave him there. "Mr... Mr. Stark—"

"Shhh." The man gave his head a subtle shake, his voice a whisper, too low to hear for anyone but Peter. "You'll be fine, kid. Don't worry."

"Get your hands off him, Stark!"

Pepper now stepped between them and the chief, shoulders drawn back, chin held high. "We have a court order, Chief Clarke. We conceited to the test you insisted on. The results remained the same. If anything it underlines Mr. Stark's right and I see no—"

"Shut up, Missy! We're getting a new order. A new test. I don't know how you cheated this, but we will not—"

"Chief Clarke, please!" The Congresswoman's eyes were wide as she witnessed the hostility between both parties.

"I'll throw you in jail for this, Stark, and it'll be my pleasure!"

"Oh yeah," Mr. Stark still held onto Peter's hand bit turned at last, eyes narrowed on Clarke. "Go on then. Do it. Cuff me. Drag me out in front of every single reporter in New York City. Go on, asshole. You want to put your hands on me, I will—"

"Tony. Stop." Miss Potts' voice couldn't hide the worry so plainly written across her face.

The door flew open once again and Doctor Abrahams walked right in, another lady by his side. He ditched both Congresswoman Davis and the chief effortlessly without looking up once, just tapped a few times on the tablet in his hand. "Mr. Stark, Chief Clarke, you remember Miss Thomas. She's the legal representative of New York Downtown Hospital" His eyebrows were pulled up high but his gaze was firmly on the device in his hand. "Mr. Stark. You are taking son out of the hospital against medical advice."

The lady from social services shuffled uncomfortably out of her seat at last, seemingly terrified that she would have to get involved. She stood, eyes wide and frantically moving between the police chief, Mr. Stark and Peter. "I'm sorry, but the... erm... the boy... I... I need—"

"Thank you, Miss Muller." The hospital-lady Miss Thomas seemed positively thrilled that she could address someone in the room that wasn't Mr. Stark or Clarke. "The... erm..." She cleared her throat and pulled out the stamped document Miss Potts had walked in with earlier. "The order from the court stands and Mr. Parker that is—" She cleared her throat again, eyes glued to the document. "Mr. Stark—Mr. Aiden Elliot Stark, is to be released into his father's care to await his hearing. Your services are no longer required on this case, Miss Hall."

Peter's heart skipped a beat. He held onto Mr. Stark as tightly as he dared. Would he really get to leave? Did they really manage to get him out with his secret still safe? The social worker didn't put up much of a fight. Visibly relieved that she would no longer be caught up in this mess, she awkwardly shuffled around the men between her and the door and ran from the room.

"What the fuck, lady!" The vein on Clarke's forehead was positively ready to pop. "You can't just—"

"Actually, we can, Sir." Miss Thomas cleared her throat. "You have no arrest warrant and the question of the boy's guardian has been definitely proven. The hospital's protocol in this case is clear and the NYPD has vowed to abide by said protocol."

Doctor Abrahams' eyebrows had moved even further up his forehead. "Right." Two more taps on his tablet. "Mr. Stark, you need to sign here."

Miss Potts... Pepper. Pepper was the first one to move among the people left. She stepped up to the doctor and took the tablet from his hands. The expression on his face was somewhere between bored and annoyed.

"This has to be signed by a guardian."

Peter's pulse was throbbing in his throat. His eyes shifted to Mr. Stark who still held onto his hand, his grip strong but far from unpleasant. They would let him leave. They would actually let him leave. His breathing picked up and he tried hard to swallow down the sob that was building in his throat. The chief stepped forward, trying to intervene but stopped himself from actually laying a hand on either of them. Pepper had distinctly put herself between Clarke and Mr. Stark, holding the tablet up for Mr. Stark to sign his name. The doctor's eyes shifted from Peter's wrists to his neck but he was pulled out of the stare as Pepper pressed the device back into his hands.

"Speedy recovery to you, young man." A sharp nod in Mr. Stark's direction and Doctor Abrahams turned and before he had even left the room, Mr. Stark's attention was back on him.

"Come on, buddy." He could feel the intensity of the man's stare on his very skin. His mentor's stare, former mentor's, now... now guardian's? Father's. Just the thought made him all dizzy. Not that his head wasn't spinning already with overstimulated senses. But none of that mattered right now. All that mattered was getting out of the hospital, away from the authorities. All that mattered was the pressure of the man's other hand on his shoulder that tethered Peter to reality. Light pressure increasing, suggesting that Peter should get up now. The sense of relief that was slowly but steadily engulfing Peter was entirely missing from the man's posture though, his face drawn in concern. "Just sit up for now."

"We're not done here, Stark. This will have consequences." The chief turned sharply to the door at last, pulling his man with him.

"You can bet that this will have consequences, Clarke!" Mr. Stark called after him. As the door fell shut with a bang, the man's voice turned low and soft again. "One step at a time, Pete. Just focus on one step at a time."

Tears burned in his eyes as Mr. Stark used his name. The familiarity had an intense wave of comfort rush through him followed by confusion and doubt. Was he no longer going to be Peter Parker? What would happen with him now? And what would happen to May?

"I... can I... where is May, Mr. Stark? Please, can I just—"

"Shhh," the man's hand patted his shoulder. "Just get up for me for now, alright? One thing at a time."

"Please... please, she... I need to see her, I—"

"Kid, you're close to passing out or jumping out of your skin, I can't quite tell but..." The man's voice was low, only for Peter to hear, but firm nonetheless. "But you know why. We need to get you out of here first. She'd want you safe, you know that."

"But—"

"No more arguing."

Peter bit the insides of his cheeks to suppress the sob that was working its way up his throat, tears trailing down his cheeks. Unable to really nod with the thick bandage around his neck he just lowered his eyes in defeat. His body was like jello, his senses made his skin prickle and there was a deep strong jab of fresh pain as his shoulders left the bed, muscles in his back and neck contracting as he tried to sit up. Mr. Stark had a point. He'd have a hard time getting out of there as it was.

"I got you, bud. Just turn, get your legs off the—there you go. You're alright." Mr. Stark's hand was pushing him up, taking some of the pressure off his muscles. "Can you walk, kid? I can... If you want me to, I can—"

"No." Peter looked up at him. "I can... I can do it."

He was going to be fine. Spider-Man didn't need to be carried! He could... he could deal with a little pain. He could walk out of there on his own. Mr. Stark's hand steadied him underneath his elbow, providing enough of a push for Peter to stand up. As soon as he was upright, Mr. Stark's other arm snaked around him and held him there, supporting Peter's weight. He did have him, held him close to his side. Peter's legs were steady like that, or at least steady enough. Pepper had rushed forward to support him from his other side. Behind her, Congresswoman Davis was the only one still left in the room, still watching them.

"Mr. Stark," the woman stepped forward. "Can I just say that—"

The look the man gave her shut her up immediately. "No. You can't. Get out of the way."

Peter kept his focus on the floor in front of him, away from anyone they could meet on the way. The walk to the elevator felt incredibly long. Mr. Stark made him stop a couple of times when his breathing got too labored.

"Just give it a moment, kid. You're shaking."

Pepper was right next to them, then looked up and down the hallway. "Let me see if I can find a wheelchair somewhere."

"No..." Peter leaned on Mr. Stark for a moment then made a point to put more of his weight on his own feet. "I... I'm good."

Mr. Stark's hold on him tightened. "Kid, you're really not. We can—"

"I'm good. I'm... I'm good. Let's just... let's just go." It wasn't physical exhaustion that drained him, not even the pain. It was the hospital itself, everyone around them. He needed to get out, get away from all that. Even though the corridor was empty, he could hear it all. The sounds, the lights, all the people in the rooms down the hall. As the elevator doors closed and sealed them off from the outside world, Peter could breathe a little easier, stand a little firmer on his feet. The lights were still too bright and made his head swim but the low clutter of the elevator's chains as it was moving downstairs was easier to drown out than the many voices in the rooms around them.

"Tony, that's the lobby," Pepper whispered. "We should go through the basement, use one of the backdoors."

Mr. Stark shook his head. "We can't go there."

"It will be quieter, less people. I had them send another car."

The man just gave his head another shake. "Pep, just hold him tight for a moment."

The strong arms around Peter loosened. It was like someone was pulling the ground out from underneath him.

"Mr... Mr. Stark?"

"It's alright, Pete. I'm just gonna put my jacket around you, alright?" Just as he said it, Mr. Stark carefully settled his suit jacket on Peter's shoulders, then pulled it up high to cover his head. "We gotta go out the front, buddy."

"Wh-what?" Peter's eyes shot over to him.

"Tony, are you—"

"They have Barnes in the basement." Peter's heart fluttered at the name, but Mr. Stark had his arm back around him, held him close again. "But they also need to see you, see that you're with me. They need to see you were hurt. We need the press on our side. The people."

"But... but then... then they'll all know!" The thought made Peter's stomach turn. They'd all know the most personal thing about him. Something he didn't even understand himself.

"They already do, buddy." Mr. Stark's grip tightened on his torso. "It's already everywhere. Might as well make it work in our favor."

Peter's heart skipped a few beats. "They... they know? They know? Oh... oh god, they-?"

"Shhh, buddy, it... just trust me, alright? Can you trust me?"

His hands were clinging so close to the man in front of him now, he was sure to leave bruises even with one of his arms useless by comparison but he just couldn't help himself. "I..." Peter wanted to nod, to confirm that of course, he would trust him, but he was just so terrified. Every fiber in his body revolted against the idea of everyone knowing something so intimate about his life.

Mr. Stark shared a look with Pepper and at his nod, she got a little closer, held him tight. Peter closed his eyes and leaned into both of them. Mr. Stark had said he'd get him out and he had, they were just about to walk out of there. "I do... I do trust you, Sir."

Miss Potts shifted next to him and it had Peter's eyes flutter open. There was a look on her face he couldn't quite read. Surprise or... or shock?

"Come on then, buddy." Mr. Stark pulled him along, made his legs work by what seemed to be sheer will of force. "Let's get you out of here."

When they made it to the end of lobby, dread swept over Peter. A short glance up ahead revealed a whole crowd out people outside of the hospital. Even through the doors, the chatter of the paparazzi, reporters, and onlookers echoed into the front hall. Peter's hand shot up, held tightly onto Mr. Stark's arm.

"I... I can't... please... please, I—"

"It's alright." Mr. Stark turned to him and pulled him close, his arms wrapped around Peter. "It's just a few steps. I'm right next to you. I'm right here."

Peter buried his face in the fabric of the man's shirt.

"You know what to do, kid. Just focus on me. Block everything else out. They are not important, alright? I got you."

He nodded into Mr. Stark's chest, neck burning with pain, let the man's heartbeat fill his ears and numb everything else. Mr. Stark patted down the jacket that was still wrapped around Peter, pulled out a pair of dark sunglasses and pushed them carefully onto Peter's face. He still had his arms wrapped around Mr. Stark and the man didn't even try to untangle himself. He just slung his own arms closely around Peter and they followed behind Pepper, heading for the exit.

Noise washed over Peter like a herd of wild elephants. He tried to focus on one thing, control his senses, control himself, like Mr. Stark had said, his arms still around his torso, his face pressed into the man's side. Mr. Stark had one arm wrapped around him, the other rested on the back of Peter's head, holding the jacket in place that shielded Peter somewhat from the crowd, making things a little easier for his oversensitive senses. The man's heartbeat was so different, not as rhythmic, almost erratic but strong and loud and Peter tried to just focus on that, eyes shut close, but the commotion around them was too much, breaking through that barricade he tried to put up. His instincts screamed at him to run or to fight, to protect himself and his people. He turned his head just enough to see where they were going. Miss Potts was in front of them, leading the way. There were a few huge men around them as well, blocking off the worst of the onslaught but still hands reached for him, cameras and microphones were pushed in their direction. People screamed Mr. Stark's name, his own name and they called out for Aiden to look at them. It was too much. All Peter could do was retreat back into the safety of Mr. Stark's arms, hoping it would be over fast.

Someone pulled at his arm, trying to detangle it from Mr. Stark and he only held on tighter, pulled himself closer. Then hands rubbed up and down that same arm and Mr. Stark's voice rang in his ears.

"Come on, kid. You gotta let go. Just get in the car, come on."

Peter did look up at that, first at the man he still clung to, then up ahead where Miss Potts—Pepper. Where Pepper was waiting in the car. It was her hand that was rubbing up and down his arm and he reached for it as soon as his brain made the connection. She pulled him inside and Mr. Stark's hand on the back of his head made sure he got in safely. Everything happened faster than Peter could keep track of things but it was as if he could finally breathe again when the door of the car slammed shut behind Mr. Stark.

"You alright? Hey, Pete, look at me."

Every cell in his body was aching, his head was swimming with all the voices, all the noises, the pushing and shoving.

"'m alright," he tried to say, but it came out more garbled than intended.

He needed his brain to slow down, his senses to mellow but even the tinted windows couldn't filter out the camera flashes to a degree that would stop that throbbing in his head. He should be able to ignore them. He just had to concentrate, but the ache in his bones, the way his skin was burning. It was all too much.

They were pushed into the seats as the car sped away. Pepper's hand came to rest lightly on his shoulder but even that was almost too much for him to bear now. "Tony, what are you doing?"

"It's gonna be alright, Pete." Mr. Stark's hands were on him, different than Ms. Potts', not as light but with more conviction, steadying him. Peter was still buried beneath the man's jacket, trying to shield himself from at least some of the sensory input, when Mr. Stark pulled on Peter's arm. "I need you to let go for a moment, alright? I'll be quick. You'll feel better right away." Mr. Stark tried to loosen the fingers of his left hand from where they clawed into the jacket's fabric. "Just stretch out your arm, buddy."

He listened. He did as he was told and stretched out his arm for Mr. Stark, biting his tongue as pain shot through his upper body from the movement, then carefully squinted past the fabric at what was happening. Only then did he register the syringe in Mr. Stark's hand. With a flash, the mental images from that warehouse and that basement came back to him, the needles that were rammed into his neck and before he could even think, he had already ripped his arm out of Mr. Stark's reach, scooting away on the backseat, he bumped into Miss Potts right next to him. She let out a surprised shriek but caught him before he could fall forward into the back of the passenger's seat.

"I'm sorry, buddy. I should have—" Mr. Stark had thrown both hands up in the air. "It's fine. It's from Helen. Remember? Like she gave you at the Compound? It's gonna help with the pain and with your senses." He eyed him, eyebrows knitted together closely, a hand open and careful extending towards Peter. "Come on, it'll make you feel so much better, kid."

Peter hesitated. He shouldn't. There was a reason why he couldn't allow that. "For... for the pain? The Widow, she said... she said I can't because... she said..."

Mr. Stark leaned in closer to him now, his hand gripped Peter's thigh and that helped, tethered him back to earth. "It's just gonna make you a bit loopy. You'll get a bit tired. But it'll help."

He frowned. He was supposed to stay alert. "It's... it's okay now? She... I have to... to pay attention, be... be on guard for... for..."

Mr. Stark's eyes were squarely on him. He could feel them on him even more than the hand that held him steady. "You're with us now, buddy. We're gonna take care of everything. You're safe with us, alright?"

Of course. Yes, of course he would be. They had gotten him out, out of the reach of the officers, who had despised him. The thought of painlessness made him want to cry again, wondering if he had ever stopped since they left the hospital room. Mr. Stark's hand left his leg and took hold of Peter's hand instead, guiding him closer. He was right of course, now it didn't matter if he passed out and couldn't really defend himself. He was safe with them, of course he was. Peter flinched as the needle pierced his skin. He had completely forgotten to look away, but it wasn't too bad. It didn't burn or anything. It was more like cool liquid that spread through his veins and into his every cell. It numbed him, not just the pain but also his senses.

"Better?" Mr. Stark asked and Peter just nodded, one of his hands shot up to his neck on instinct and he flinched at the still persistent pain but there was no denying that he felt better already. He let himself carefully sink back into the seat. Yes. Yes, he already felt a little numb, but in a good way. Things would be fine now.

"They will be, buddy. You'll be just fine."

Peter frowned. Had he said that out loud? He looked up and found Mr. Stark looking down at him, the expression on his face so soft, it made Peter feel like a little boy again. Not in a bad way though, in a protected, cared for kind of way. One of the man's hands still held Peter's, the other came up and combed the hair out of his face, took the glasses off him that Peter had completely forgotten about. The man's thumb slowly ran along Peter's hairline, down to his temple. It felt good. Great actually. His eyes fell shut, his strung-out body and mind finally finding some relief. Only the backseat of the car felt weird, unnatural. He couldn't find a way to comfortably sit, shuffled back and forth until Mr. Stark's arm pulled him in. Peter's head settled down against Mr. Stark, came to rest on his collarbone and the man's arms pulled him close, held him tightly against him. Peter's own limbs just hung down like a puppet's, strings cut off. There was something nestling into his hair. It took him a moment until he recognized what it was, Mr. Stark's breath on his skin. The man's own head was resting against Peter's.

"I'm so sorry, buddy." Mr. Stark's voice was low but very close to his ear. "I should have never left you. I was such a fool."

Peter's eyes were still closed and he leaned into the man's body, shuffled as close as he could.

"Shh, you're safe now, kid. Nobody's gonna touch you, alright? I got you."

Peter nodded along, or at least he intended to. There was no telling if his body listened to anything he told it to do.

"I know... I know I keep saying that and still, you end up—" The man cut himself off with a low curse.

He wanted to say something. Tell Mr. Stark how he couldn't have known that Barnes would come after him, but words were a distant illusion. His body wasn't cooperating and his brain was drifting off. He tried to fight it at first but the strong beat of Mr. Stark's heart though still a little different than it had been in the past was lulling him under. Peter didn't want to fight anymore, hated being on guard all the time. He just wanted to let things be, to trust that he was safe.

He was woken up by some shaky movements and at first, his thoughts went to a bumpy country road. Where they outside the city? But when he opened his eyes he found himself in someone's arms. He looked up to make sure that the strong arms that held him close were indeed Mr. Stark's. That's when he registered that those shaky movements came from the fact that Mr. Stark was walking, carrying Peter along with him. Peter let his head fall back against the man's shoulder and looked around them. Where were they even going? As he turned his eyes forward into the direction Mr. Stark was heading, he almost jerked out of the man's arms.

"Shh, hey, it's alright, kid. You're alright."

No. What was happening? His breath was uncomfortably thick in his throat. A gurney and people in white coats were waiting at the elevator.

"It's okay. We're at the Tower. Helen and her team are gonna quickly check that the hospital didn't miss anything. Make sure you're taken care of. She'll know better than those doctors, right? She knows how to help you."

Peter relaxed a bit at that, not that he could have done much about it. His vision was blacking out around the edges again already. His mind drifted off before they even reached the medical team.

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[author's note: Thank you guys for the great response to the last chapter. As always I thoroughly enjoyed your reactions and theories! Next chapter should be coming along soon, possibly this weekend.]