WELCOME BAAAAACK✨ Hope everyone's holidays are/were good and that you're ready for som :') We get some freaking well deserved Irondad and Spiderson hurt/comfort time!

ADDITIONALLY: I posted a multichapter fic of angsty one shots called "Irondad Ending in Platonic Cuddles" if that's up you're alley :)

No TW/ unless a mild description of burns is bothersome 3000

Have fun and stay safe ❤️️ 💛💚💙💜

Chapter 9: The Sixteenth

Peter stands in the comforting warmth of his mentor, his muscles aching, eyelids heavy, and breathing slow. The seared skin on his abdomen still pulls uncomfortably when he breathes and his shoulders twinge with pain, but something about Tony's hug makes it worth it. He takes a shuddering breath in and hugs Tony back, his mask slipping out of his hands.

"You smell…oddly sweet," Tony mentions with the rise of an eyebrow, smelling the faint aroma of sugar coming off of Peter's suit. Smiling slightly, Peter explains.

"Kind of a long story. Short version: Scorpion threw me into a cotton candy machine," he chuckles looking back on it, but Tony doesn't find it as humorous.

"God, kid, I'm sorry," Tony mumbles into the kid's hair. He grits his teeth out of frustration, but it's himself he's frustrated with. If he'd been paying better attention to the news instead of wallowing in self-pity, he would've seen what happened at the boardwalk. He could've helped Peter instead of feeling sorry for himself. Then, maybe Peter wouldn't have gotten hurt.

"What? Why?" Peter asks, not understanding why Tony is apologizing.

"I…" Tony stalls. It isn't like him to not know what to say. "I should've been there. You asked me to go and I blew you off. What if something happened and my ass wasn't there?" Peter slowly pulls away to look up at Tony, who stares down at him with conflicted eyes.

"It's not your fault, Mr. Stark," Peter states, his eyebrows pulled together in concern. "It's not like you made Scorpion attack. None of us could have known. It's okay." For some reason, this causes Tony to pull back and run both of his hands through his hair.

"It's not okay. I could've made sure that" he angrily gestures to Peter's burned skin, "didn't happen. And I tried calling when I heard, I did, but your phone kept going to voicemail." The explanation just seems to work him up even more, his under-eye bruises becoming much more prominent as his face pales. Peter is at a loss for a second, then begins to stutter out reassurances.

"Hey, I'm, I'm alright, see? And I have super healing, remember?" he reasons with Tony. "The reason I couldn't answer was because my phone's broken. More like crushed beyond repair, but that's not the point. And…I know you needed the time so I didn't wanna push it." He anxiously rings his hands together, but doesn't break eye contact. "Do you wanna talk about it?" Tony's eyes soften minutely. The last time Peter asked this, Tony snapped at him. He won't let history repeat itself, even if he's reluctant to expose the kid to this.

"Only if you let me get you a StarkPhone instead of that old POS," he agrees with the beginnings of a smile forming on his lips. Peter mirrors his smile and nods.

"I guess I can agree to those terms." With that, he goes to change out of suit while Tony prepares the first aid kit. Luckily, Peter's room has pretty much everything he could ever need since he spends so much time here to begin with. He puts on an oversized shirt that reads "I see you have graph paper, you must be plotting something" and a pair of sweatpants before walking back out.

"Do you have a shirt that doesn't have a pun on it?" Tony halfheartedly inquires. He's already sitting on the couch with the first aid kit open and ready to go.

"Technically, this one's wordplay, not a pun," Peter defends, a prideful look on his face.

"Don't pick the fly shit out of the pepper, kid," Tony lightly reprimands as he digs through the box. Eventually he pulls out a burn ointment and bandages, then looks up to see Peter staring at him in utter confusion.

"What…does that even mean?" Peter finally questions. "You make fun of my Vine references and then you say that?" He hasn't ever heard a saying like that in his entire life, and May has some pretty strange sayings.

"It's only the best saying of all time, but let's focus, hm?" Tony shrugs off, patting the space on the couch next to him. Peter carefully sits down and lifts his shirt just enough for easy access to the burn. It's already starting to look better, but the surrounding skin is still flushed red and has blisters near the center.

"It doesn't really hurt," he assures when Tony gives him a sympathetic glance.

"You able to put some petroleum jelly on?" Tony checks warily, yet Peter nods. The substance is a gross consistency and stings when it's applied, but it could be a lot worse. Tony then applies the bandages loosely enough that the burn can breathe.

"Um, don't be mad," Peter starts, effectively stealing back Tony's attention.

"That's not disconcerting at all," Tony comments sarcastically. Regardless, Peter continues as if he weren't interrupted.

"But I kinda also have these ones." He lowers the collar of his shirt to show a set of four puncture wounds just underneath his right clavicle. Of course, there's a matching set on his left side that remains unseen. Tony takes a deep breath and raises his eyebrows before pursing his lips.

"Christ, kid. You're going to give me an ulcer," he complains as he pulls out more supplies. Once the punctures are all patched up as well, he starts to pack up the first aid. "Next time, I'm calling Helen so she can knock some sense into you first." Peter smiles sheepishly.

"Thanks for helping me, Mr. Stark," he says gratefully.

"Yeah, yeah," Tony dismisses with the lazy wave of his hand. "Don't expect me to keep going out of my way to- are you cold?" he questions when he turns back. Peter tilts his head.

"What?"

"You have goosebumps," Tony points out, nodding towards the kid's arms. Peter looks down to see the goosebumps littering his skin. Huh. He hadn't noticed. In his defense, it's hard to notice that when you're dealing with burns and physically can't shiver to begin with. "You cold?" Tony repeats his question.

"I guess a bit." Peter gives a noncommittal shrug as his mentor stands. Tony hums in recognition.

"How about some hot chocolate and then we'll have that heart-to-heart or whatever," he offers casually. The last thing he wants is to make this a big deal, even though it is, so he tries to keep it as lighthearted as possible. Still, he knows the topic will get heavy once they start talking about it. Peter nods in agreement, pressing his lips together.

"That'd be great." That's how they end up in the kitchen, Peter bandaged up and Tony looking like the human embodiment of insomnia, making hot cocoa in silence. It's not an awkward silence, but it's not entirely comfortable either. The weight of the conversation that's bound to happen looms over their heads. Luckily, Tony has the best kind of hot cocoa: the kind you make by heating up milk on the stove and melting solid chocolate into it. Peter thinks it's from either Spain or Italy, but can't remember. In his defense, he has a lot on his mind.

Eventually, the two sit back at the couch with their warm, nearly overflowing mugs of hot cocoa.

"So…" Peter awkwardly tries to get a conversation going. He stares into the hot cocoa, merely letting it warm his hands. Tony, on the other hand, takes a drawn out sip of his.

"So," he mildly agrees, taking a deep breath. Well, he's a man of his word. "Do you know what the date is?" The question isn't accusatory or demanding, it's genuine. Borderline disinterested, actually.

"Um," Peter starts, not quite seeing the correlation. "It's the sixteenth, I think. Why?" For some reason there's a feeling of dread settling in his stomach. Tony takes a breath and decides to look up at Peter instead of delaying the topic.

"Twenty-seven years ago today my parents died." He grits his teeth and avoids the word "murder" to both keep himself sane and not make Peter remember his own losses. Peter looks like a deer caught in headlights, his eyes conveying a mix of shock and sympathy. Then, he remembers how much he despises getting pity when he talks about his parents and Ben. His face morphs into that of empathy.

"I'm so sorry, Mr. Stark." He puts as much sincerity as he can into his voice, but doesn't leave it at that. "They'd be proud of what you're doing. Helping people and everything. You do a lot for people." Tony looks at him with an abundance of grief and emotion, his eyes glistening but not tearing up. He wants to argue. To say how horribly strained his relationship with his parents was. How his father treated him more like a nuisance than a son. Unexpectedly, however, Peter's words mean more to him than he thought they would. It's as if those reassurances are coming from a place so pure and meaningful that it makes him want to break down all over again.

"Thanks, Pete." He gives Peter a fragile smile and puts his arm around the kid's shoulders. It takes all his strength not to feel guilty, yet he still fails miserably. He feels like he's been doing that a lot lately. "You shouldn't have to comfort me. That's not your job, kid," he sighs, resting his cheek on the top of Peter's head. Peter lets himself relax a bit, his nervous heart rate slowing.

"But you always help me, so just think of it as me returning the favor," Peter shrugs Tony's guilt off. "And I want to help, 'cause I know what you're going through and it's already the worst thing to go through without having to do it alone. If there's anyone who understands what you're feeling…it's me. I know what it's like to lose parents and family and I'm here for you." Tony's hand tightens around Peter's shoulder and he nods his thanks, not trusting his voice. What would he do without this kid? Before his emotions get too out of hand, he clears his throat and adjusts his posture to seem more relaxed.

"I know something's bothering you too, Shortstack," he teases, but is mostly serious. Peter chooses to continue with the humor instead.

"I'm almost as tall as you, y'know," he smugly points out. His words make Tony grimace at the mere thought of Peter one day being taller than him.

"I know. Stop doing that growing thing." Peter laughs and says a good-natured apology under his breath. Tony roughs up his hair, then sobers again. "Don't think I didn't notice the way you hesitated when you came up. What's going through that genius brain of yours?" he inquires. The chuckle from Peter at the casual compliment causes Tony to smile.

"It's just something Scorpion said," Peter says noncommittally, finally taking a sip of his hot cocoa.

"I'm all ears," Tony offers. Peter seriously considers whether or not it's worth bringing up. Ultimately, he realizes that Tony would understand the most.

"During our first fight he said I'm gonna lose no matter what because scorpions are predators of spiders. Which, y'know, is stupid. But, the more I fight him, the more he absolutely beats me into the ground. I'm trying not to let him get in my head, but it's just hard when I feel like I'm getting better at this whole superhero thing and then get destroyed." His mind wanders to Mysterio, which was a low point but at least he constantly moved forward. Now he just feels…stuck. He doesn't feel like he's learning anything about Scorpion besides the fact that the villain is evidently going crazy.

"Kid," Tony starts, getting Peter's attention, "I'll let you in on a classified, superhero secret: we never quite get the hang of it. You can't talk yourself into that kind of bad mindset. We just do our best to learn and adapt. It'll never be an easy job to do, villains come out of the woodwork with all this fancy new tech and longer monologues than the last." Peter smiles at that. "But we get better too. Trust me, soon you'll have this arthropod's schtick all figured out and he'll be gone just as fast as he got here. And people like us will win 'cause we care about people, right?" Tony makes a fair point, and Peter nods in agreement.

"Thanks, Mr. Stark." Peter feels a bit more confident with Tony's words to back him up.

"Besides, we have cooler outfits. Puke green, scorpion themed suit? Someone needs to get him a new costume designer," Tony banters with an unimpressed expression. His face softens when Peter playfully rolls his eyes. "Good work today, bud." Peter's eyes widen slightly and he turns to face his mentor.

"Wait, really?" He looks genuinely surprised.

"Yeah," Tony confirms, then pins him with a curious look. "Why? Have low expectations for me?" he teases. Peter shrugs his shoulders and looks down in embarrassment.

"No, I just kind of thought you'd be mad." When Peter looks up, he sees Tony raising an eyebrow, waiting for him to elaborate. "Well, we trashed the park and messed up a bunch of rides, so I was expecting, I dunno, a responsibility speech or something. It wasn't on purpose, though! Scorpion was super angry for some reason and went on a complete rampage. He was destroying everything and I didn't want anyone to get hurt, so…I lead him into the park where less people were," he explains through nervous rambles. Tony nods slowly in understanding, his lips pursed, then pats Peter's back reassuringly.

"I'll take care of it. Nothing fixes a mess like a particularly large check," he easily dismisses without fret. "If it was what you had to do to keep people safe, then I get it. Can't reprimand you for tearing shit up when I had a hand in destroying half of New York and prying Sokovia out of the ground." He says it nonchalantly, but there's a bitterness behind his voice that Peter doesn't miss. Peter can practically feel the different levels of stress radiating off of Tony, so he decides to lighten the conversation a bit.

"Well, I mean, when you put it like that…" He smiles mischieviously and Tony rolls his eyes before taking a drink of his hot cocoa with a smile.

"I don't like it when you pick up on my sass. The only sass master here is me, so hands off my title, Pipsqueak," Tony pointedly threatens with a finger raised. Peter beams innocently, pressing his lips together to hide his smile. "Back on topic, did you find anything new about our friend?" Peter wracks his brain for the useful information about their encounter and piles it together into something cohesive.

"Um, it was like he was going insane. Like, actual psychosis. And Karen said he was mutating." This piques Tony's interest.

"Mutating how?"

"He has real claws now. Made out of chitin and everything," Peter recalls with his eyebrows raised. Tony's eyes flit to where he knows the puncture wounds are on Peter's shoulders. "And his skin was turning this gross green color and his eyes were getting yellow." Tony sighs and rubs his forehead.

"Okay, psycho with a mechanical tail is now taking on characteristics of a scorpion. Great. Fantastic. What else can we add to that lovely list, hm?"

"Well…" Peter steels himself for this part. Just the thought of it practically makes his Spidey Sense react. "When he showed up he was already yelling for Spider-Man, which was weird 'cause I wasn't even in my suit. He said he knew I was there." Tony sets down his mug and sits back against the couch. He takes a deep breath, his eyebrows knit together in both thought and concern.

"He could've tapped your suit, but I doubt it," he proposes. Peter nods, holding his mug closer. A thought makes its way into his head, and it makes his stomach drop.

"Could he be tailing me around New York?" The implication there would be that Scorpion knows his identity. Peter's eyes lock onto Tony with a deeply set fear. If Scorpion knows his identity, that means May, Ned, and MJ would be in danger. Luckily, Tony shakes his head.

"If he were, he'd attack you outright, not scream for you to make an appearance," he counters. Then, leans forward with a hand over his mouth in thought.

"Think the suit's bugged?" Peter offers instead. They both make eye contact. "Crap," Peter mutters when he realizes that has to be the reason. "Do, do you think he knows where May and I live?" he questions anxiously. Tony stares at him, conflict behind his eyes.

"I don't know," he answers honestly. He doesn't want to lie to the kid. "I'll have Happy pick her up, just in case." While he pulls out his phone, he continues to talk. "Okay, first thing we're gonna do is go down to the shop and scan and repair your suit. If you're bugged, we need to get you un-bugged asap," Tony lists out their priorities, stress evident. He stands, leaving behind his mug, which prompts Peter to stand as well. Peter, on the other hand, holds onto his hot cocoa.

"Cool. We can work on the upgrades too," he quickly agrees as they start walking to the elevator. He can hear his heartbeat in his ears as the situation sinks in. He just doesn't want the people he cares about getting pulled into this. The last thing they need coupled with that concern is his identity revealed, and Tony knows that, hence the sudden onset of worry. Luckily, the Tower is probably the best place Peter can be since it's already established that he's linked to Iron Man.

"It's gonna be okay, you hear me? We aren't going to let this asshole get the upper hand." They stop in front of the elevator and Tony clamps a firm, reassuring hand on Peter's shoulder, despite his own anxieties sinking in. Peter takes a shaky breath.

"I hear you," he affirms with all the trust in the world. The elevator doors open and as they're about to step in, the doors reveal none other than Steve Rogers and Sam Wilson.

THA ER IS PROBABLY THE *SECOND* WORST ONE I WILL DO TO YOU 😇 so teeeechnically its not thaaaaat bad 3 I wonder what Steve and Sam are doing here, thoughts?👀 see ya next week!

Sometimes you just need a good dose of Peter and Tony hurt/comfort :') It helps me get a lot of thoughts and feelings out 3

Thank you for reading! ❤️️ 💛💚💙💜

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